Chapter Text
A dream. Lan Wangji had a dream. It was not an unusual occurrence, especially while he slept, but for it to appear to him so vividly — for him to be able to experience everything so clearly; so directly — surely that was not normal. How could he possibly gaze upon the man dressed in black robes before him, and think him inconsequential? — consider him forgettable and only marginally seminal? To do so would be beyond Lan Wangji, for he was impossible to ignore, much less obliviate.
From his flute, he produced a most haunting melody that traversed even the roar of flames and drums of war resounding from within, calling an unknown force to arms. As for the mysterious man in black, he remained wholly unaffected. Perhaps even somewhat indolent. Reclined in his little boat, his biggest concerns hinged upon hitting the right note, everything else was purely background static. It didn’t matter.
For the longest time, Lan Wangji listened to him play, entranced by his display of casual indifference, and captivated by how he managed to remain detached, even as the sound of war drew nearer. Until, finally, he sat up, and, in peering over the edge of his boat, twirled his flute with a simple yet elegant gesture — one as carefree and light as he presented himself to Lan Wangji. He was gorgeous.
Staring back at him was not only his reflection, but a single lotus blossom that bobbed in greeting. Much like him, it too drifted alone in the center of the pond, unbothered by the surrounding carnage, to the point of obliviousness, and absorbed only in keeping beat with his song as it moved in twists and turns, the tune breathed by his flute inspiring it to dance.
At the moment the man reached out a tentative hand to caress the little lotus, Lan Wangji realized that it was him — he himself had been the lotus blossom. Jolting awake, he didn’t dare divulge his prophetic dream with anybody over breakfast. Not his uncle, nor his brother. Instead, he travelled by himself to Yunmeng without anyone’s knowledge. A place where lotuses were abundant. Reflected in the surface of the pond, a distorted image of his face stared silently back at him, frowning as he did when nothing happened, and glaring coldly when he was suddenly struck with the thought that today’s visit to Yunmemg had proved an absolute waste. Surely, he could be making better use of his time elsewhere; meditating; training. Instead he was chasing a silly dream, idling away in the streets of Yunmeng, whilst gazing keenly at lotus flowers. Feeling ridiculous, Lan Wangji had been preparing to leave when something unexpected snagged on the corner of his eye. His interest piqued, Lan Wangji looked once more into the water to find a woman now standing beside his reflection. A grounding presence that was not felt, and sure enough, on turning to face her direction, Lan Wangji found there was nobody there. He was all alone. Yet she remained, reflected in the surface of the pond, red lips twisted into an impish grin. She never wavered. As for her silence, however.
“O, marriageable maid.”
After an innocuous challenge by the ghostly figure, ushered by her gaze and her gaze alone, Lan Wangji initially believed she’d been referring to herself; come to find out, it was him she dared to address as such; ‘marriageable maid’ being just the tip of the iceberg, as she pursued, her voice a river of the sweetest honey, and her eyes as cold and dead as a grave, “Consort of the black robed lord.”
The image of a flute was quickly conjured up, followed by billowing black robes. The man from Lan Wangji’s dream.
“Unwedded maiden.”
With a capacity to strike the very air colder, the woman’s sharp smile adopted a softer, more gentle shape, as she reached out her hand. Out of nowhere, the surface of the water began to quiver and bend, as if influenced by her words, which were as delicate and brisk as the passing breeze. “Bride of the Yiling Patriarch.”
A ripple contorted her lovely face.
“Consort of the black robed lord. Marriageable maid.”
Taking a step back, Lan Wangji shivered.
“Bride of the Yiling Patriarch. The Yiling Patriarch. Yiling. The.”
Her voice carrying on as a faint echo in his ears, the woman soon lost her shape when a sudden gust of wind blew a leaf onto the surface of the pond, directly where she stood. Lan Wangji was stunned. Somehow he felt those words had been meant for him. As if he were the bride of the Yiling Patriarch she spoke continuously of. Since he was young, Lan Wangji had always known he was special — was aware that he was different from the other men. He bathed with his older brother enough times in his youth to be able to tell that, despite both of them being boys, they weren’t the same. Breaking out of his reverie, Lan Wangji realized that he recognized Yiling. It was a place not far from Yunmeng. Climbing onto Bichen, he took flight, headed in the direction of Yiling. It was high noon by the time he arrived, and evening when he reached a cave, having travelled up the mountain by foot. Surprisingly, despite being so close to Yunmeng, there weren’t many water sources, and even less lotus blossoms to be found. Lan Wangji searched around all day, but he couldn’t find even the faintest trace of the pond he’d seen in his dream. Be it lakes or rivers, ponds or even vegetation, it was as if the mountain was completely devoid of life altogether. Even the cave Lan Wangji had happened upon was as quiet as a tomb. It was damp, and smelled heavily of calcite and fine mud. Everywhere Lan Wangji looked there was dirt and rock and more dirt. Nothing grew, save for his anxieties about spending a night in such a dark, desolate place. In certain sections, he had to squeeze his way through, the passageways being extremely narrow and tight. While other sections were as big and spacious as a house. There wasn’t much in terms of echoes, which made Lan Wangji admittedly a little nervous. If somebody wanted to ambush him, they could more than likely go right ahead, and he’d be none the wiser. Just knowing that was honestly enough to make him traverse deeper inside, figuring the farther he was from the entrance, the better. That meant less of a chance of anybody incidentally stumbling upon him as he slumbered.
Wrought with wanderers fatigue, Lan Wangji finally settled down for the night in a portion of the cave that was maybe wide enough to fit him and one other person. He was so exhausted after his travels that it didn’t take long for him to drift off, and he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched down upon soft earth.
It was roughly around two hours later when a disturbance came to Lan Wangji in the form of a disembodied voice. Immediately, the cave was overgrown with deep, penetrating shadows and reeked heavily of blood. Meanwhile the earth let out a hair-raising shriek the likes of which Lan Wangji would not soon forget.
“Beautiful.” A man said, with a sigh. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Confused, Lan Wangji sat up. There was no way anybody could see him, much less what he looked like. It was far too dark inside the cave. Lan Wangji himself was so disoriented by just how dark it was, that he could hardly tell which way was up and which way was down. Anxious and afraid, he reached blindly for Bichen.
“Relax. I don’t bite.” Said the man. “I mean, unless you want me to.” His voice taking on a more suggestive tone, Lan Wangji could hear him shuffling closer, and he narrowed his eyes, a deep rumble in his chest.
“Okay, okay. So you’re not into that.” Returned the man, panicked. Seeming to retreat backwards, he breathed a laugh. “Goodness. If anyone is more likely to bite between us, I’d say it’s you. Do I really make you so nervous?”
Annoyed, Lan Wangji huffed. The answer should have been obvious. Alone in a cave, and at an utter disadvantage due to a severe lack of visibility, of course he was nervous. Combined with the unexpected presence of another human being, of whom he did not know, but who seemed to possess almost inhuman capabilities, it was only natural that would make him even more nervous. Even if the other man couldn’t see him, he’d be fairly uneasy — but it was the fact that he obviously could which was making Lan Wangji so tense and alarmed. He probably wouldn’t have continued reaching for Bichen otherwise.
“Who are you?”
“A fair question. But a bit distasteful, don’t you think? It is you who’s wandered into my home, after all. That said, shouldn’t it be the other way around? — where I ask you who you are? That seems pretty reasonable, wouldn't you agree?”
A slight frown creasing his brow, Lan Wangji didn’t respond.
“Fine! I get it.” Said the man after a brief pause. Evidently, the silence made him uncomfortable — enough to sweep formalities under the rug, as if they didn’t even matter. His earlier claims be damned.
‘Distasteful’, was it?
“I’m Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian. Though I’d really rather you call me by my given name.”
Still, Lan Wangji said nothing. But he didn’t have to. Not when he could practically hear the smile in Wei Wuxian’s voice as he pursued, seeming to tease Lan Wangji, “And you’re Lan Zhan. I already know all about you.”
Caught off guard by his words, and the casual, almost offensive, manner which he delivered them, Lan Wangji couldn’t help but recoil in obvious surprise.
He was so shocked, he could scarcely form a sentence.
“You—! How—? Shameless!!”
Wei Wuxian shrugged, remembering at the last possible second that Lan Wangji couldn’t see it, and therefore, wouldn’t be able to notice. So he settled for a lighthearted and playful spirit instead.
“How so? It would be even more improper of me to not know the name of the one I’ve knocked up. Wouldn’t you say so, Lan-er-gege?” Raising a brow like how he raised the corners of his lips, Wei Wuxian met Lan Wangji’s stern regard coolly, his arms folded across his chest as he slowly leaned back, his slender back and narrow shoulder blades supported by a wall. He couldn’t explain it, but, looking at Lan Wangji, he was overcome with a sense of grotesque elation. Even more so when the other suddenly froze, Wei Wuxian’s words seeming to finally register in his brain.
“Rejoice, oh lovely and virtuous Hanguang-jun! Soon you will bear this Wei Ying a son capable of commanding the very heavens themselves with his charms, and powerful enough to shoot down the sun.” As he spoke, he pointed towards the sky, only to, again, be reminded that Lan Wangji could not see him, and hence, could not react.
Trembling, Lan Wangji lightly touched his stomach, relief welling up briefly inside of him when he noticed it was still flat. There couldn’t be a child. This man and him, they haven’t even laid together. How could there possibly be a child!? Absurd! Clearly, he was being messed with.
“……No.”
From cheering, Wei Wuxian fell all of a sudden silent.
“No?” He repeated, sounding genuinely confused, and perhaps even somewhat worried.
Clamoring to his feet, Lan Wangji stood up. “I do not know you.” Hands balled into fists, he faced the direction he believed Wei Wuxian to be standing, and scowled, his gaze as cold and sharp as steel. It sliced Wei Wuxian to the core, cutting beyond the skin, deep into his soul.
“But you do know me.”
“…..I do not love you.”
Wei Wuxian hummed, giving the impression that he was unconvinced. This frustrated Lan Wangji to no end. Never in his life could he ever recall meeting any Wei Wuxian. That being the case, how could he possibly love a man he did not know? — a man who was hardly a man at all, but a complete and utter stranger?
What was there to sound so unsure of? Lan Wangji wasn't following. He just couldn’t comprehend.
“Didn’t you come all this way looking for me?”
Had Lan Wangji not been clenching his jaw so hard, he probably would have gasped. The dream he had. A man wearing black robes. Lan Wangji hadn’t told anybody about the purpose of his visit. Not even his older brother. Yet, somehow, this man knew. He knew Lan Wangji was looking for somebody, and for some unknown reason he’d assumed that somebody was himself. Why? How? Even after receiving an answer, there was still no wrapping his head around it.
It wasn’t until the man produced a talisman and ignited it that Lan Wangji finally understood.
Mouth running intolerably dry, his eyes widened. The appearance of the man left him slightly overwhelmed.
“You…..”
“Ah, I see you get it now. Good, good.” With a small nod of approval, the man beamed a smile — his face a mirror image of the one Lan Wangji had seen in his dream. With fingers that cradled the talisman, eerily similar to those that once reached out to tenderly caress along Lan Wangji’s delicate petals. In short, he was indeed the man Lan Wangji sought — the man in black robes. A flute was even hanging from his waist. The same flute from Lan Wangji’s dream.
The one he’d seen Wei Wuxian playing so beautifully.
“You’re….”
Unfortunately, even after seeing him in the flesh, he only left Lan Wangji with more questions than answers. ‘Why’ and ‘How’ being the two most prominent. Same as earlier.
“The Yiling Patriarch…..”
Suddenly recalling how the ghostly figure had referred to him back in Yunmeng, Lan Wangji blushed.
If Wei Wuxian truly was the Yiling Patriarch, then, if what the woman reflected in the pond said was true, that made Lan Wangji his bride. But that was only if she’d been referring to him. She never confirmed it, after all. Then again, why else would she have appeared in front of Lan Wangji? What other purpose could there have been, if not to pass on a message?
As if reading Lan Wangji’s mind, Wei Wuxian stole a sneaking step forward, one hand outstretched to cradle the side of his face. On meeting his gaze, Wei Wuxian smiled warmly.
“Lan Zhan, ah Lan Zhan. I’ve found you at last.”
He leaned in, and it was while shyly averting his gaze that Lan Wangji happened to notice his robes, once white, now steeped in the angry red glow of the setting sun. Except, it was nighttime. Not only that, but they were currently in the belly of an intricate cave system. Even if it was evening, there was no way for the light to reach them — no place it could possibly penetrate. That meant that what was happening to Lan Wangji’s robes could only be a result of Wei Wuxian’s influence, as well as the use of his powers. There was no other explanation.
“Will you really…..marry me?” Inquired Lan Wangji quietly.
Not just his outfit, even the tips of his ears had been dyed an adorable crimson because of Wei Wuxian, and the culprit himself couldn’t help but to laugh. Sharp yet sweet.
“Only if you’ll have me.” He replied.
“….I say that, but I’m pretty sure you and I were always meant to be.”
“Because of fate?” Asked Lan Wangji.
Wei Wuxian shook his head. “No. The intervention of fate implies a gross lack of control. If there’s one thing I pride myself on, it is my control.” He spoke in earnest. “Though if you keep looking at me like that, Lan Zhan, I might just end up touching you so deep, I accidentally leave fingerprints on your soul.” With the blossom in Lan Wangji’s cheek still held in his palm, Wei Wuxian gave a laugh and a firm but gentle squeeze, before lowering his voice and very delicately whispering, “Forgive me. I can’t really explain it well, but your existence is like a sentence I’ve been trying to finish for thousands of years. Does that make sense?”
A sharp intake of breath.
Virtually stooped over Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian moved closer, crowding the other until his back was pressed up against the wall.
“And you?” Never did he remove his hand from Lan Wangji’s face, preferring to hold him closer, touch him more tenderly. “How do you feel about all of this?” His eyes shone with a strange light.
“I….”
Lan Wangji was at a complete loss for words. Unable to even think clearly, let alone articulate properly. In truth, nobody had ever bothered asking for his opinion before. Only his older brother mattered; his beliefs; his impressions. No one wasted their time trying to talk to Lan Wangji, or figure out what he thought. If there was ever a question worth asking, surely Lan Xichen would suffice in providing a reasonable solution. He was much more friendly and approachable anyway. So unlike Lan Wangji, who was often called the ‘Ice Prince’ behind his back.
At that moment, he felt a tease in his chest.
“I do not mind.” He raised his eyes to meet Wei Wuxian’s own. “……Am I really with child?”
Wei Wuxian softened his gaze. “Yes.” He answered softly. “Can’t you feel them inside you?”
Slowly, Lan Wangji dropped his line of sight, hand following as he slid his palm down over the toned planes of his abdomen. There was nothing. He blinked in confusion.
“No.”
“Give it time. He’ll grow bigger; stronger. You’ll be able to feel one another soon enough.”
“Mn.” Lan Wangji nodded. After listening to Wei Wuxian, something compelled him to believe every word. As for what that was, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that Wei Wuxian very clearly wasn’t human; so, to hold him to his human standards, it simply wasn’t appropriate — just couldn’t be done. Not without being completely unfair — to him — to their situation.
If Wei Wuxian said Lan Wangji was pregnant, then chances were he wasn’t lying. What reason could he have to lie? To marry Lan Wangji?
— And so what? Was that really such a bad thing?
He seemed considerate enough. Not only that but he was certainly attractive. Powerful, smart. Though he’d never been interested in matters such as marriage, or love, Lan Wangji honestly couldn’t have asked for a better husband.
“Lovely.” Wei Wuxian smirked, and it was ultimately this smirk that interrupted Lan Wangji’s musing. It was positively wolfish, so predatory. It sent a thrill straight through Lan Wangji’s wildly beating heart, and filled him with nervous excitement.
“Well, now that we’ve gotten the formalities out of the way, what say you and I take our time enjoying our wedding night alone together, hm?” He purred, closing the distance between Lan Wangji’s lips, before sealing them with his own.
The talisman was extinguished, and the rest of the night was spent in a feverish haze. Everything was so wet, so warm; the cave, Wei Wuxian; his flesh, his eyes. Clingy and damp.
Pressure; pain; pleasure; a sweet ache. In the dark, every sensation was amplified. Between his hips was where it burned most of all — so gaping and sore, with the slightest friction. Lan Wangji felt exposed. Vulnerable. Sweet moans sang through the air, borne back to his ears as an intense smoldering, and for the first time since he entered this place that Wei Wuxian affectionately called the Demon-Quelling Cave, he was grateful for the lack of an echo.
Above him Wei Wuxian gasped and shook, his body joined with Lan Wangji’s in a slick strain of sweat and heightened arousal. His panting breaths licked wetly at Lan Wangji’s skin, as he mounted, claimed, and dominated the soft, submissive body beneath him. Holding tightly to Lan Wangji’s fair and slender waist as stubborn as a dog, with the energy and stamina to rival a beast, an animal. All teeth and tongue. Feral and devouring.
Wrapped in their nakedness, they folded more and more into one skin with every beat of Lan Wangji’s pulse, finding rhythms in Wei Wuxian’s appetite, and breathing love into every corner of the cave. A wedding night that lasted forty-eight days.
The longest wedding night in history.