#bc his scales are golden like a son | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

qobiin · 4 years ago

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those bluest skies above me

pairings: lan wangji & everyone (lwj&lxc, lwj&nhs, lwj&lqr, lwj&nmj), background nielan

genre: angst, fluff | dragon lan wangji au, pre-canon

warnings: implied/referenced non-con (concerning madam lan), canonical character death, injury, mild blood, shifting, scenting, lan sect being not so good

a/n #1: written for the MDZS Big Bang 2020! the title is taken from steven universe's "that distant shore" bc i feel it bodies lwj's thoughts about wwx perfectly. thinking of the dragon dynamics similar to how abo works will help you with understanding them, but to be clear: there is nothing sexual going on in this fic. madam lan's story has so many gaps that bother me a lot bc when i look at the gaps i see a backstory like the one i gave her here since it's just what makes sense when you really think about it. the non-con is only talked about somewhat in-depth in one scene and mentioned briefly across other scenes afterward. if you want to skip the heavier bit of it, stop reading at "Then why, Lan Zhan asks with his eyes." and pick back up after the art that minzi made to accompany this <3 hope you enjoy!

words: 25291

summary: Lan Zhan’s memories begin from the moment he hatches out of his shell and meets his mother’s golden gaze.

part one of gentleness of light, escaping

Lan Zhan’s memories begin from the moment he hatches out of his shell and meets his mother’s golden gaze.

He only has to take one look at her to know that she is the one who laid his egg. She is the one who made his comfortable nest, who sat with him every day until he was ready to hatch.

Even for a dragon, Lan Zhan is certain that she is the most beautiful woman in the world. Her scales glimmer under the candlelight. Dark blue, green, and brown surround him as her golden eyes glow.

A young boy sits on the edges of Lan Zhan’s nest but still within Mother’s embrace. He looks almost as beautiful as their mother, even if he isn’t in dragon form himself. There is an ornament tied above his eyebrows that gleams when he moves and matches the liquid silver of his eyes.

There is no mistaking that this small boy is his brother. He can smell his mother on the boy’s skin and in the air displaced when his dark hair moves. He can see their mother in the curve of his brother’s smile and the awe in his gaze as Lan Zhan finishes slithering out of the broken remnants of his shell.

Lan Zhan stares at them both, transfixed and loving every image his eyes relay back to him. He makes a rumbling sound in the back of his throat, feeling content and loving his mother and brother more than he could ever hope to describe. His mother mirrors his rumble and his brother’s brows furrow before his expression clears as he smiles again.

His thoughts at that time are fleeting and underdeveloped, his memories are crystal clear but hold no further insight. This is something that an older version of him will miss when his memories are only plagued by questions and doubts. For now, however, his mother helps him clean his scales then scents him thoroughly.

Her whiskers brush against his snout only once and when Lan Zhan sneezes, his brother laughs. His laughter is soft and tinkles wondrously in the air around them. As the sound begins to fade, Lan Zhan decides he will do whatever he needs to do so he can hear his brother’s laugh again. Mother wordlessly guides Brother through appropriately scenting him as well and Lan Zhan shivers under the soft human hands his older brother is trailing over his face and neck.

His sire is nowhere to be seen.

(Later, Lan Zhan will be grateful for this. For the moment, however, he focuses on spreading his scent all over his weyr in return.)

Gold and silver quickly become a favorite of Lan Zhan’s.

For the first two years of his life, Lan Zhan always remains at his mother’s side.

He sees his brother only once a month and decides very quickly that he dislikes how little time they get to spend together. Brother smiles and laughs often when he is with them but Lan Zhan gets the sense that this is the only time his brother smiles and laughs so easily.

Lan Zhan dislikes that too.

His mother is beautiful and warm despite the cold river that runs through all three of their veins. She is gentle when needed and appropriately harsh in her reprimands. Lan Zhan has much he wishes to learn and he does not begrudge the discipline she hands out to him when he does something unbecoming.

He is much stronger than humans. His brother, though as much as their mother’s son as Lan Zhan, only has one form which just so happens to not be a dragon. Lan Zhan has to be aware of his strength at all times lest he hurt Brother or any other human who does not deserve it.

Even if his instincts are not as strong as Mother’s, partly in thanks to his sire’s human blood diluting most of the traits she passed down, Lan Zhan strives to practice caution at all times. His inherited instincts also do not excuse him the few times he allows them to override his thoughts and Mother, though loving, does not hesitate to put him in his place by pinning him and growling until he submits.

In their weyr, Lan Zhan is not the Head. Lan Zhan is a Claw, and maybe when he is much older, he will become the Head of his very own weyr but that is not the case now. Neither Lan Zhan nor his Head is a fucanglong who takes their hoard and hides it from the world like a jealous lover, but Brother is the only Treasure in their weyr. It is expected of Lan Zhan to guard him as well as he can even if he is the younger sibling.

Lan Zhan pushes himself to absorb as much information as he can the first year after his birth. Many of the things he learns make him angry, others are simple facts he memorizes quickly to keep everyone around him safe. He practices his strength, practices not calling upon elements to do his bidding when his emotions threaten his control. He practices remaining calm, staying alert, and always being conscious of how much damage he could carry out if he were to ever lose himself.

Control is difficult, but Mother knows enough about his nature to direct his instincts and impulses where they are needed in order to keep him present and non-threatening. In both her first and second forms, Mother shines as bright as moonlight and Lan Zhan loves her as much as he loves Brother.

That is why it is easy for Lan Zhan to shift into his second form once a year has passed since he first hatched. For his weyr, Lan Zhan finds himself able to do anything as long as it benefits them.

He is much smaller than he is accustomed to in this new form of his, but when he sees the joy and relief in Brother’s eyes the next time he visits, Lan Zhan finds this development welcome. Brother can pick him up easily in his new form and he still kisses Lan Zhan on the forehead as often as he did before, rubbing a hand over his hair where his horns would usually be.

The gentleness that now accompanies his brother’s movements soothes the urge Lan Zhan has to bury so he does not suddenly shift back into his first form. If he were to shift too quickly, he could harm his brother and that is one thing Lan Zhan never wants to do.

Lan Zhan can walk without much difficulty in his second form but speech is harder for him. He sticks to monosyllables and pointing, for the time being, brightening each time Mother and Brother interpret him correctly. Even if his ability to speak is worse than most human children his age, Lan Zhan is content with being understood by his weyr.

His thoughts come slower to him as a human and he at first feels like he is going to burst back into his dragon form at any moment. It is difficult to remain in his second form, but after a fashion, Lan Zhan is easily able to consciously shift between both his forms. Mother’s golden eyes gleam with pride and happiness as Lan Zhan’s growth continues. Even when sadness begins to lie in the shadows of her gaze and scent, her pride and love for him envelop him in their midsts gently.

He does not understand why Mother grows sadder with each passing day until two years have passed since Lan Zhan first hatched. Brother visits them that day as he normally does but he arrives accompanied by a man who introduces himself as their uncle. Uncle explains that he will now be taking care of Lan Zhan and his brother full time instead of Mother and Lan Zhan is no longer allowed to stay with her in seclusion. The Clan Elders believe that Lan Zhan has learned most of what he requires to live a peaceful life without his draconic tendencies interfering and he shall now be brought into the Gusu Lan Sect good and proper to be raised alongside his older brother.

His instincts do not want to be far from the Head of their weyr. Lan Zhan himself does not want to be taken from Mother, but she is his Head and Brother is their only Treasure. He must protect him in their mother’s stead and if that means he is only allowed to see Mother once a month from now on, then so be it.

It doesn’t shock him that Brother does not look happy after hearing this news. Still, there is a sharp line of resignation in his shoulders that tells Lan Zhan all he needs to know.

If it were up to Brother, neither of them would ever be kept from Mother. Mother would be living with them wherever they wished to go just as long as they were together. Unfortunately, this matter is not being left to Brother so they will have to make do with what they can since it does not seem like the Head of their weyr will do something to keep them with her either.

Brother hands a box to Mother who opens it, angling it so Lan Zhan is also able to see the white ribbon identical to his brother’s own lying within. Lan Zhan kneels before her, both of them in their second forms as she ties the ribbon around Lan Zhan’s forehead. She fixes his hair and presses a kiss to the ribbon once she is done, the slant of her mouth loving and unhappy at the same time.

Lan Zhan pokes at the familiar clouds adorning his ribbon and nods, showing his acceptance of these turns of events.

He still cries that very night in his new shared quarters with Brother. He does not make a sound as he weeps, more than sure of the fact that he will be punished if anyone that is not his brother catches him at this moment. Just because he accepted being taken away from Mother does not mean he enjoys this. His acceptance does not change the fact that he is only two-years-old and is being kept from his mother.

Brother wakes only to slide into his new bed beside him and scent him until they both fall asleep with a shared longing for their mother inside their hearts.

Uncle does his best, Lan Zhan knows.

It does not change the fact that his instincts wail and weep to see the Head of his weyr every day. That one day a month is not enough to satiate the ache and longing within his four-year-old body to see Mother. That Lan Zhan is a Claw and is not ready to become a Head in his mother’s place just yet. That Lan Zhan still does not know everything he should to steadily curb his instincts until he has found a way to balance both sides of his blood.

Brother’s instincts are weaker than Lan Zhan’s own but he knows his brother still feels them within his darkest depths.

Lan Zhan is only allowed to shift back into his first form twice a week and he always makes certain that he is allowed to shift in the presence of his Head. He frequently finds himself schooling his expression so no one except Brother and Mother may know what he is feeling. He might not be as tall or as imposing in his second form as he is in his first, but that doesn’t mean he will make it easy for others to take advantage of him.

Many of the children close to his age tend to avoid him in the children’s hall because of his supposed lack of feeling. Lan Zhan doesn’t mind. He likes the distance kept between them, especially since he still has not tamped down the urge to shift into his first form when he is drastically startled. Knowing that the fragile, weak human children around him aren’t staying too close is comforting in case his grip on control ever slips. Nevertheless, Lan Zhan finds this unlikely to happen since he guards himself against his baser instincts with a viciousness that surprises his own mother.

It shouldn’t surprise her though. Not when considering the whispers trailing after him that the Clan Elders think he cannot hear. Lan Zhan has excellent senses, only further improved in his first form. Even when he accompanies Brother and Uncle to the cold springs far away from the areas most of the residents of Cloud Recesses pass through, he can hear the poison dripping from their mouths.

They want to show him off to the cultivation world. They want to use him as a threat against the other Great Sects. They want him to lose control so they can punish him and make an example out of him. They want to say, Look at what we did to this dragon and her offspring. Look at what we have the power to do to everyone with these dragons under our thumbs.

Lan Zhan is young. He is much too small in his second form when considering the way he feels. He improves in controlling what expressions flit across his face. He gradually enhances his ability to tamp down on his feelings instinctively calling out to the elements around him when he is overwhelmed. He is polite and cordial to Brother and Uncle in public, but as affectionate as he can be when they are in private quarters with no risk of being interrupted. He learns to meditate, learns about the reassuring joy of music, and picks up the guqin. Due to his golden core forming while he is still so young, Lan Zhan is now considered a prodigy in his own right.

Lan Zhan is many things, but he is not ignorant. He can always smell the terror that shadows every interaction people have with him and how they recoil whenever he moves too quickly or gives off an aura much too powerful for a newly turned five-year-old child. He is never able to disappear from other people's awareness no matter how much he wishes it. Because of this, he never once presents himself as anything less than the perfect Lan every disciple in his sect strives to be. Especially not where others are able to see and somehow use it against him in the future. His status as a prodigy only further alienates him from the rest of his sect members and as a result, loneliness is something he has quickly grown used to.

The three thousand rules that the Gusu Lan Sect is infamous for become his word of law, his guide in this dangerous territory. By all rights, Cloud Recesses is Lan Zhan's. He is the first dragon to be born here on this mountain, up high in the sky. By the rights bestowed upon him through his mother's blood, this makes the area his. Makes the people who live here fall under his jurisdiction and protection alike. Cloud Recesses should be his, but it is not.

The Clan Elders are the ones with the power here and Lan Zhan is not going to give them a reason to put him down.

When he explains this to Mother on his next monthly visit, she cries. She weeps and sobs and pulls him into her frail arms. He wants to remind her about the rule concerning excessive sadness but decides to bite his tongue. Now wouldn’t be the time for that.

So he lays his head against his mother’s shoulder and wraps his arms as far as they can go around her, holding her as tightly as she is holding him. The Head of his weyr crying brings him no joy or comfort, but Lan Zhan is at least glad that Brother fell ill yesterday so he would not be subjected to their mother's tears along with him.

"A-Zhan, my poor A-Zhan," she murmurs into his hair.

Lan Zhan understands that Mother is sadder than most, that her dragon spirit is slowly dying with each passing day she spends away from the earth and rivers that bore and nurtured her. It is why he learns as much as he can from her.

Mother tells him about the different kinds of dragons. Tells him that no matter what their different aspects may be, every dragon has a bit of fucanglong in them. She tells him Grandfather's name and that since he was a fucanglong, Lan Zhan will have more of that in him than others of their kind would. That she has much of her father in her no matter that she was born the same as her mother since she hatched in the roaring rapids of a river. That Lan Zhan is a shenlong made for the rain and clouds that frequent Gusu Lan, even if Mother herself is a dilong who misses the earth and her river and is not meant for the skies like him.

"You hatched on this high mountain and in these clouds. That is why you are a shenlong, A-Zhan. A dragon's being is determined by the nature they hatch in, not the nature they inherit from their parents," Mother says, her voice soft and clear despite her tears. "But never forget that you will also have a bit of me and your grandfather as well. You enjoy visiting the cold springs often, correct?"

"Mn."

"The cold springs settle the urges I passed down to you when there was nothing more than a delicate shell separating you from this world," Mother explains. "Water does my bidding, but both water and wind will do yours. A-Zhan, it may one day be the reason you fly. Not all shenlong do, not even most, but I have a feeling you are capable of it."

Lan Zhan nods, understanding this as fact. He knew most of this already and guessed the rest but hearing it relayed back to him from his Mother settles the feelings within him.

Mother smiles and presses a hand to his face, cupping his cheek tenderly. Lan Zhan blinks and suddenly feels the urge to cry as he realizes that while he may be able to indulge his safer and more basic urges, the Head of his weyr cannot. Mother is confined to this house hidden within the back slopes of this mountain with no river or large body of water nearby. The sitting room is only big enough to accommodate her first form if she coils up around the table they sit at for tea.

Why is she here in this house hidden high within the clouds?

"What's wrong, A-Zhan?"

Lan Zhan blinks rapidly up at his mother, opening his mouth to speak before he loses his nerve. "Why are you here?"

His Head sighs, her fingers now carding through Lan Zhan’s hair. “I am meant for the earth, for the firm press of dirt, the freshly tilled soil, and the winding rivers that always lead back to the sea. Not the sky. Not the clouds, winds, and rain that you are meant for, A-Zhan.”

“But⎼” Lan Zhan begins to say, not liking the implications of his mother’s words one bit.

“Let me finish, A-Zhan. This is not something I ever planned to tell you at your age but we are different from regular people. You are already beginning to understand your place in this world, and it would not be fair of me to never share with you how the circumstances of your birth came to be,” Mother speaks right over him, smiling when Lan Zhan meets her golden gaze with furrowed brows, both of them thinking of the rule forbidding one to interrupt others.

Lan Zhan huffs out a breath he will deny is a sigh and nods his head once more, eyes still locked onto his mother’s own. “Mn.”

And so she tells him. Tells him of how when she was still a whelp, Grandmother was captured by the Jin Sect and killed for her beautiful scales. That Grandfather was, understandably, furious about this but she was only sad and confused. That she never understood how humans could ever trap a being as powerful as Grandmother. That she did not think that could ever happen to her, especially not after Grandfather hid her with his other Treasures.

By this point in her story, her gaze is wistful and far-off. “Baba took us underground and hid us from the rest of the world for our own safety, but I was unhappy. I was still young and I ached for the rivers that ran above our heads. I wanted to explore and see this world for myself. I could not survive under Baba’s rules forever, so I waited. Baba left to hunt one day and I took that as my chance to escape. I had always planned to return, but now I will die without ever having Baba’s scent on me again.”

“Mother,” Lan Zhan rasps, his eyes already itching.

Mother continues, acting as if Lan Zhan has not spoken. She tells him of posing as a rogue cultivator for some time after first joining the cultivator world. How she used the money she received from the night hunts she completed to buy herself a sword. Forming a golden core wasn’t a task too difficult for her, just as it was not difficult for Lan Zhan either. Those like them are very intelligent and have always had enough patience to test even the Great Immortals the cultivation world attempts in vain to become.

Here Mother bends and presses an absent-minded kiss to his forehead ribbon, quickly resuming from where she left off in her story. “I was in Caiyi Town when I met your father, A-Zhan. He was young and handsome, but he smelled all wrong to me. He claimed he fell in love with me from the moment our eyes met, yet I have never loved him.”

Then why, Lan Zhan asks with his eyes. His Head sniffs, her eyes watering again.

She explains that not too long after meeting his father, she decided to try alcohol for the first time before she left Caiyi Town and moved on to the next night hunt that was calling her name. The inn she was staying in claimed their brew was the best in all the Great Sects. She believed it would be acceptable for her first try, so she ordered a jar with her usual dinner in the inn’s public dining area. One of the Clan Elders was there as well, sitting a table away from hers, drinking tea and doing nothing else. Mother says that she did not think anything of it at the time. She was more preoccupied with the alcohol being stronger than she had first been led to believe. Soon enough, she was intoxicated and stumbling around, trying her utmost best to return to her room by herself.

The innkeeper had offered to help her up to her room once it was quite clear that she was inebriated, but the Clan Elder insisted that he would do it instead. Mother only agreed because she knew she needed help and he had seemed friendly enough to her. But once they reached her room, he did not drop her off at her door like she thought he would. He refused to leave as she struggled to shift into her first form to defend herself from his attack. The alcohol had made it difficult to focus and she had been attempting to shift ever since she first realized the Clan Elder was not going to leave her alone as she had hoped. She knew there was a way to use her golden core to burn the alcohol out of her system, except the enormity of her emotions did not allow her to think clearly.

“I have never been able to forget that man’s face,” Mother says, her eyes wide and blown with the depths of her pain. “I planned to leave Caiyi Town not long after that until I found out I was with child. There was no doubt in my mind that man was the father.”

Lan Zhan does not know what to say. Since the moment he hatched, he believed he and Brother to be the results of his Mother’s strained marriage. Now he finds that to be false. Brother and he do not share the same, exact blood.

Knowing this somehow sparks a wave of insurmountable anger within him. The depth of the anger he can feel burning in his chest both terrifies and reassures Lan Zhan. He has never been angry before, not like this. Not to the point where it feels like his rage could swallow him whole and churn him back out completely changed. This type of response is unexpected, of course, but he finds it valid nonetheless. His mother was hurt, and his brother was a product of that hurt meaning, in a way, Brother was also hurt by this.

“Brother is not…” Lan Zhan decides to ask before he trails off as he realizes he is unwilling to finish his question.

“A-Huan is your brother,” Mother says without hesitation, her voice firm and leaving no room for doubt. “His father may have hurt me, but I love him as I love you. He is not your half anything, A-Zhan. A-Huan is your brother because you are both my sons. He inherited many of my physical traits in this form, so much so that no one would ever suspect you two of having different fathers. That is what your uncle said to me before he took A-Huan away.”

Knowing all of this somehow makes the angry, vicious pit in Lan Zhan’s chest feel all that much worse. He has always known that Mother’s seclusion had been forced upon her as a form of punishment. The full implications of this had never quite registered until now though. Lan Zhan could never pinpoint what rule she had broken that was severe enough to warrant her level of punishment. Rule-breaking and Mother had never gone hand-in-hand to him, not when both she and Uncle had been the ones to instill such deep respect for the three thousand Lan Sect rules within him.

Something was missing from the picture before and now that a part of it has been given to him, Lan Zhan almost wishes he had never paid attention in the first place.

“The Clan Elder…” Lan Zhan trails off again, unsure of what he means to say exactly.

Mother understands though. His Head has always understood him when his words tended to fail him. “I killed him for what he had done to me. It was mercy in my eyes. Baba would have done so much worse if he had ever found out. Others saw differently, however.”

She stops there for a moment, her gaze uncertain. Lan Zhan nods, determined to hear this through until the end. Even though he does not know what the Clan Elder did to his mother exactly, he wants to know if that man’s death is the reason Mother is imprisoned here. Mother takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, tears tracing down her cheeks silently.

“Your father was already the Sect Leader by that point. He convinced me to marry him. He said he would protect me and your brother. I agreed even though I feared he might do to me what one his sect’s elders had done, but your brother was already one of my Treasures by then, A-Zhan, and a Head keeps their Treasures safe,” she sighs, gently wiping Lan Zhan’s tears away with her thumbs. “I never understood the position Baba was in until I felt your brother’s heart beating within me. I knew he was not going to be enough like me to keep himself safe. He would be born mostly human and I did not dare shift into my first form lest it harmed him in any way. I had to keep him safe and no one believed me when I told the other Clan Elders why I killed one of their own.”

Mother is crying again, her words trembling as she rambles. “No one but your father and uncle accepted my words as the truth. Your father put me here and then secluded himself due to guilt and grief alike. I had killed one of his sect after all. No matter how awful that man had turned out to be, he had influenced your father and uncle a lot as they were growing up themselves.”

“Mother,” Lan Zhan whispers. “You need not continue.”

But his mother only shakes her head, pressing onward. “I had A-Huan here and only got to hold him for a few moments before he was taken from me. His monthly visits began at the same age yours did. He had never seen me before but he knew who I was from the moment our eyes met again.”

Her breathing is even when she says, “I decided to give your father a child some time after that. I am his wife in nothing but name, A-Zhan. It troubled me that this man who claimed to love me but I did not love in return would endure so much trouble and pain for my sake. I felt guilty, so I disrupted his seclusion in the middle of the night and made my intentions clear. He was unwilling at first but eventually agreed.”

Lan Zhan almost smiles when his Head’s nose wrinkles, a tiny scowl marring her tear swollen face. Her tears have stopped for the moment, but Lan Zhan is certain they may return soon enough when Mother says that his sire still smelled all wrong to her. She did not love him, no matter how much he loved her but there was something there within him that reminded her of the earth and rivers she had been kept from for so long.

She left before his sire woke up the next morning and later felt the urge to shift for the first time since Brother’s conception that very same night. She was hesitant at first, unsure of what could have been making her feel that way. Eventually, she gave in sometime after the curfew bells rang, still uncertain about what exactly was compelling her to do so.

“And what do you know?” Mother laughs then, the sound tired and small but still there. “An egg was trying to pop out of me! I was laying your egg, A-Zhan.”

Later she learned that his sire and Uncle had a small portion of dragon blood in them that could be traced all the way back to Lan An, Gusu Lan’s founder. For the first time in years, however, Mother was in her first form, making a nest for her egg after curfew.

Mother smiles then, something soft and loving in the curve of her lips. Lan Zhan cannot help but smile in return, reaching up to wipe his Head’s tears. She tilts her head down in his direction, golden eyes glowing with the warmth of her unabashed affection.

“Oh, you were so tiny in the beginning, A-Zhan. Your shell was so fragile that I worried myself sick those first few months thinking you would not make it, but here you are,” Mother says, cupping Lan Zhan’s face in between her palms as if she almost cannot believe it herself. “Here you are, my little dragon. My Claw and other Treasure.”

Soon though, her smile and the warmth in her eyes begin to wither. "I would have liked to tell you this when you were older. You are still much too young and I know this information will only burden and harm you in the long run, but I do not know how much time I have left and you deserve to know so you can keep our weyr safe. After I am gone, you will be Head, A-Zhan. You must keep your brother safe when I no longer can.”

She speaks up again before Lan Zhan can, looking straight into his eyes when she says, “I wish that I could have brought you into this world under better circumstances, that I could have brought your brother into this world the same way I did you. But I do not regret it. I do not regret having you two and loving you both as much as I do, A-Zhan. You and your brother are not only my Treasures but two halves of my Heart as well. Do you understand?"

Lan Zhan feels his breath catch. Does he understand? Yes, of course, he does. How could he not when being a Head’s Heart is so much more valuable than being their Treasure? Being Treasure means being well-protected, well-loved, and well-nurtured. Being a Head’s Heart means being a part of his Head’s very being. It means being loved down to the bare bones of his core with no exceptions.

It means being half the reason Mother’s heart could physically break.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Lan Zhan shifts into his first form and wraps himself around his Head. He purrs when she follows suit not too long afterward and they scent each other. Despite the new knowledge spinning in his head, Lan Zhan is happy to be here. Happy to be alive with the Head of his weyr, with the mother who loves him and his brother enough to do whatever she can for them.

Still, there is also the sadness and anger in him that he cannot shake. That clings to every breath he takes and lies in the shadows of his thoughts. He feels loved and guilty all at the same time and he isn’t quite sure how this can be.

What Lan Zhan does know without a doubt is that he is a Claw, Treasure, and half of a Heart. Brother is Treasure, the other half of their mother’s Heart, and from now on, Lan Zhan will protect him from this truth for as long as he can.

This would destroy his gentle brother and Lan Zhan is not about to let that happen.

Lan Zhan takes to the sky five years after his birth.

He has no wings, but it does not stop him from gliding in the air, skirting through the clouds he was born for. Sunshine kisses his scales as the wind blows through his mane, whiskers twitching as he loops around the mountain again.

It is peaceful up here in the sky with only the warm sun and biting wind to keep him company.

Down below, the Lan Sect members are bright dots clustered all over Cloud Recesses. The bravest of them wave their arms at him, but most turn tail to disappear indoors once they catch sight of him. Lan Zhan ignores them, eyes latching onto two bright dots standing near where he is certain he left his robes before shifting forms.

The thought has barely crossed his mind before his body angles downward and the air shifts until it is pressing him down gently. His claws skim the treetops briefly when he dips down low to land in the cold springs.

Despite their name, Lan Zhan has never quite felt the cold bite of these waters like his fellow sect members have. He lands gracefully on his first try in one of the larger pools with only a small splash and many ripples signaling his landing. Lan Zhan moves forward, using his legs to propel him to one of the shallower pools of water. Once there, he shifts into his second form and accepts the robes Brother hands him.

“How was it, A-Zhan?” Brother asks, the longing in his voice unmistakable.

Lan Zhan only pauses for a moment as he finishes getting his inner robes on before saying, “I will take you soon, Brother.”

Brother smiles, holding the first layer of his outer robes up. “Not until you’ve had more practice. It would be unfortunate if you were to tire yourself out halfway through our intended flight.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan acquiesces.

“Wangji,” Uncle cuts in then, drawing both his nephew’s attention as Lan Zhan finishes getting dressed. “How are you feeling?”

Lan Zhan mentally takes stock of his energy levels and the soreness located in his lower back. “Tired, but well, Uncle.”

Uncle frowns and beckons him forward. “Let me check. You have only just recovered and I know your arm has continued to bother you.”

Lan Zhan goes willingly. Uncle is strict and appears to be fussy all the time, but Lan Zhan is aware that is how Uncle shows affection. Of course, Uncle is not perfect but his faults are not enough to make Lan Zhan or his brother love him any less.

Uncle presses two fingers to Lan Zhan’s wrist, his other hand gripping Lan Zhan’s shoulder firmly to keep him in place. Lan Zhan leans into Uncle’s touch readily, head tipped back to study the look of concentration on his face.

It is unsurprising that Uncle is worried. After all, it was only a month before when the training accident took place.

(Lan Zhan is of the mind that it was not much of an accident at all actually, but the Clan Elders would hear nothing of it.)

Brother had been sparring with two older disciples in the sword training area while Lan Zhan spotted. Lan Zhan had not been worried at the time, Brother is very skilled in the six arts of cultivation but especially in swordsmanship. Sparring against older disciples is a habit of his brother’s, one that he indulged frequently. It was also somewhat of an unspoken rule in Cloud Recesses that if Lan Xichen draws his sword, then Lan Wangji will be found nearby ready to intervene at a moment’s notice.

Lan Zhan takes his position as a Claw very seriously. Brother knows this and huffs a bit when Lan Zhan stations himself nearby during sword practice but says nothing to discourage him from it. In a weyr, Treasures need to be protected at all times, no matter the cost, so it was not unusual for Lan Zhan to be present at that time.

Brother had been doing well against his mock-opponents. Too well if the frustrated looks on the older disciples’ faces were anything to go off of. Of course, Lan Zhan was also privy to the anger slowly building up in one of the older disciple’s scents.

As soon as he had caught a whiff of it, Lan Zhan’s hair felt like it stood on end. Something ancient struggled to spring to life in his chest, his senses focusing only on the spar in front of him. He had exhaled heavily, hoping to calm himself but left himself shocked instead as his breath turned to mist in front of him. Lan Zhan was unsure how that had come to happen but before he could think about it too much, the flash of a sword glare stole his attention.

From one moment to the next, Lan Zhan was standing in front of Brother, his unsheathed practice sword held out in front of him and his body caught between his two forms. His scales were all too clear around his neck and jaw, but none were found where the older disciple’s sword had just sliced through his arm. Lan Zhan had barely glanced at the blood seeping through his robes before he made a rumbling sound that lodged itself in the back of his throat and the disciples dropped their swords, scuttling backward in fear.

Even in his second form, Lan Zhan’s skin is tough and sturdy enough to not sustain most of the usual injuries normal children his age would receive. Brother, too, has this kind of protection and Lan Zhan is more than aware of that. It does not mean that they are invulnerable, but it does mean they are less likely to break when compared to others.

It still did not stop Lan Zhan from taking the blow that was meant for one of his Treasures.

If either of them were normal, that sword would have cut Lan Zhan deep enough to render his arm useless. If he had not stepped in, that sword would have run Brother clean through.

But Lan Zhan had. He had moved as quickly as the wind and put himself between his brother and the oncoming danger. He had stood there silently, uncaring of the blood dripping down onto his hand and staining his robes. He was in-between forms, but he had made no threatening moves in these boys’ direction, had not even unsheathed his practice sword. One of these boys had tried to draw his Treasure’s blood right in front of Lan Zhan’s very own eyes and he still did not lose control.

If Mother had been there, had witnessed one half of her Heart being attacked, there is no telling what would have happened. Lan Zhan, of course, still isn’t very sure he would not hurt those boys if he caught sight of them anywhere near Brother or Uncle again. There is a likely chance Mother would kill them if they approached Brother, but there is no chance that she would do so if they came near Uncle. Uncle is one of Lan Zhan’s Treasures, after all, not Mother’s.

(Brother told him that she, of course, approved of Lan Zhan’s actions and Lan Zhan’s claim to Uncle as Treasure, but her anger about the “accident” was not light.)

At that moment, however, Lan Zhan only pulled his arms back to his sides when Uncle arrived and placed a hand over his brother’s own on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. Before that, Lan Zhan had been contemplating whether it was worth it to break so many of the rules and hurt these disciples no matter what punishment awaited him.

Violence is not something Lan Zhan has ever taken joy in. He knows his instincts are capable of drawing bloodlust out of him and he also knows that his strength would be enough to harm anyone he wanted without trying. If he was that careless, however, he would be losing face for both his family and his sect alike. Mother and Uncle have not raised him to give in to his instincts so easily at the first sign of a threat targeting his brother. His self-restraint and control are stronger than that.

So Lan Zhan had exhaled and calmed himself as he allowed Brother to escort him to the healer’s hall while Uncle berated the older disciples for their recklessness. Uncle had gotten their side of the story, nose wrinkling when they claimed it was an accident and Lan Zhan was merely overreacting. Lan Zhan had heard all of that and had almost spoken aloud to mention the rule prohibiting dishonesty that they were breaking, but Brother had gripped onto his shoulder that much harder and practically dragged him away before more blood could possibly be shed.

Lan Zhan’s arm was cleaned and bandaged minutes after they arrived in the healer’s hall. The cut was shallow enough that it would be healed by the next day. Brother had still winced when Lan Zhan’s robes were peeled away to expose the wound though.

By the time the healers had proclaimed him healthy enough to leave, Uncle had come through the door in a flurry of robes and angry fussing. Lan Zhan had sat there with Brother as they explained what had happened and if Lan Zhan had felt something cold get stuck in his throat as he spoke, then that was neither here nor there.

Uncle had taken the issue to the Clan Elders and they had, unsurprisingly, sided with the older disciples instead of the Sect Heir. Lan Zhan felt sick just thinking of how far the Clan Elders were willing to go to punish their secluded Sect Leader’s wife, no matter if it affected their own Sect Heir and future or not.

The older disciples are now in seclusion for the time being. Both as punishment and protection.

Lan Zhan was not punished severely for his behavior, but he was still assigned to copy the rules ten times after his injury had healed. He had quietly and gracefully accepted his punishment, making sure each brushstroke was careful and precise before he submitted his copies of the rules to Uncle when he was done. He was also barred from seeing Mother and when Brother left to see her for their next monthly visit, Lan Zhan played all of Mother’s personal favorites on the guqin.

Sometimes when Lan Zhan found himself passing a Clan Elder in the halls, he would clench his hands into fists at his side until his fingernails had left crescent marks on his palms. He would also unknowingly grit his teeth as he thought of how close someone had gotten to harming one of his Treasures. Uncle had caught him doing so only one time and now believed that he was experiencing phantom pains in his arm when really, Lan Zhan was remembering the cold, hard fury that had rushed through him at that moment.

“Uncle, I am well,” Lan Zhan says as Uncle finally releases his hold on him and steps back.

Uncle’s mustache bristles with the force of his frown but nods. “There is no harm in making sure, Wangji.”

Brother chuckles beside them and Lan Zhan feels his lips twitch at the sound before his expression clears again.

Out here in the cold springs where only a select number of people would run into them, Lan Zhan is still careful to not allow his emotions to show. Not when their peaceful bubble could be disrupted by anyone in this very public space.

Even if Lan Zhan is not open with the full force of his emotions, this is good too.

When he is six, Lan Zhan lies coiled before the door bordered by gentians and waits.

And waits.

And waits even more.

He lies there with tears in his eyes, his lungs squeezing as grief chokes him. He will not move until the curfew bells ring when he must slither back to the room he no longer shares with Brother. Brother has not been able to build the courage to visit the Jingshi, but even if he can no longer see his Head, Lan Zhan refuses to leave.

That morning, he had woken up thinking today and had been so overcome with tears that a strong gust of wind blew open the door to his quarters. Lan Zhan had been quick to fight down the urge to fly into the sky and never return. Even if he no longer has a Head to depend on, he still has a weyr of his own depending on him now.

But the Head of his weyr is dead. Has been dead long enough for Lan Zhan to not bear thinking about it.

Lan Zhan is too young to become the Head of a weyr, especially the one he has just inherited. He wants Mother back, wants her to open the door, and let him back inside. Wants her to kiss his forehead ribbon and tell him more about Grandfather. Wants his Head to tease him until she has managed to coax a barely-there smile out of him. Wants Mother to cup his face as her golden eyes glow with the depths of her love, but now he will never be graced with the sight of her smile or the sound of her laughter ever again.

Mother’s scent still lingers here and there around the Jingshi, her scent the most saturated in certain points. When the wind blows, he can almost convince himself that the small gurgling stream nearby sounds like her laughter. The gentians she adored continue to bud even as the weather grows cold and Lan Zhan wonders for a moment if they will always be what surrounds his mother’s tomb.

He focuses on the remnants of her smell and waits. He will wait as long as he needs to, so long as Lan Zhan can cling to his last memories of her.

Mother dies and a piece of Lan Zhan dies with her.

He remains in his first form for a full month after her passing. In his second form, it is too difficult to catch the echoes of her presence at the Jingshi. In his first, he can still smell her, can hear her in the gurgling streams, and can feel her where his heart should be.

Brother does not speak much to him that month. Instead, he sits beside Lan Zhan in what was once their room and practices his music cultivation when the quiet becomes too much. He moved into a room of his own not too long before Mother left them, old enough at nine for the Clan Elders to approve the arrangement. Brother had been excused from his usual lessons after Mother’s death but had shown up for morning meditation early the following week, his signature smile fixed in place only dimmer than usual.

Sometimes Lan Zhan feels sick looking at the forced, gentle happiness his brother is displaying for the world to see. Other times, Lan Zhan is happy that Brother drops his mask when they are alone.

Lan Zhan ignores the meals Brother brings along with him. He can go a long while without eating in this form, does not even need to drink water as often as is required in his second form as well. He is aware that Brother and Uncle are worried, but he remains in his room and breathes every painful breath knowing that Mother is gone.

Excessive grief is against the rules, Lan Zhan knows, but he is not breaking the rules by doing this. To him, this is not excessive. This is justified.

How can it be considered excessive when he is six-years-old and just lost the mother who he had been forcibly kept from for most of his short life?

Mother had given up both her freedom and life just to make sure Brother would remain safe. Mother had gone to Lan Zhan’s father and made him within a night, had put together a nest, and taught him all he needed to know to also remain safe.

She had known what would happen when she agreed to marry the leader of the Lan Sect. She would be kept from the earth and rivers that were her lifeline and would die so her Heart would remain safe.

How is Lan Zhan’s behavior excessive? Her punishment was not considered excessive. Her treatment was not considered excessive.

No one has the right to claim his grief as excessive.

For once, Lan Zhan is glad of the distance that separates him from others in the sect. He revels in the fact that many members of the sect are terrified of him. It makes leaving him alone that first month easy.

After all, no one wants to risk the wrath of a grieving dragon.

Many of his fellow sect members believe it to be a fact that Lan Zhan’s instincts could take control of him and force him to harm them if they happened to reprimand him during this time. They remember that sunny afternoon in the sword training area when Lan Zhan took a blade for his older brother and had shown his scales to the two older disciples who had “accidentally” aimed too close for comfort during a practice spar. They are convinced that they know what Lan Zhan is capable of, especially in his first form.

Lan Zhan, of course, knows this to be false. He has spent years tempering his self-control, reigning in most of his urges, and perfecting his ever-present blank facial expression. These people do not know him and Lan Zhan is glad because of that.

By the end of that month, however, Brother leads him to Mother’s abandoned house. It is close to curfew, the sun already having fallen for the moon to take its place. Lan Zhan is uncertain of where Brother is taking them at first until he realizes they are following an all too familiar path Lan Zhan would be able to follow blindfolded if need be.

He walks in the halls but as soon as they have stepped onto the dirt path leading further up the mountain, Lan Zhan allows the wind to carry him where they are going. Brother keeps a hand on his head to keep him steady by his side, silent as they trek towards the one place Lan Zhan was certain Brother would never visit again.

As they come around the last bend in the path, they find a man standing in front of the Jingshi. Lan Zhan believes it to be Uncle until he catches a whiff of the man and realizes that it smells all wrong.

It is Qingheng-Jun.

Lan Zhan does not want to be here anymore. He wants to leave and return when this man is no longer standing in front of the place he imprisoned the Head of Lan Zhan’s weyr. The Jingshi was always going to be Mother’s tomb and he had to have known that when he secluded her here.

Brother feels him tense under his hand, but he only grabs onto one of Lan Zhan’s antlers and nudges him forward. Lan Zhan goes, unwillingly, but he still goes anyway.

“Father,” Brother calls out after they have come to a stop a few paces in front of the Lan Sect Leader.

When Qingheng-Jun turns to face them, two things happen. One, Brother bows. Two, Lan Zhan gets a clearer sense of his sire’s scent and growls in response.

Qingheng-Jun reeks of blood. Every inhale that brings his scent to Lan Zhan makes his stomach roll and his mind rear back. Lan Zhan wants nothing more than to pick Brother up and retreat, to curl away from the darker instincts that are begging him to get rid of the source of this smell. Instead, he bares his teeth and holds still, waiting.

He is aware that Brother freezes beside him, still caught in a low bow. Qingheng-Jun only blinks at him before he smiles and a low chuckle escapes him.

“That was your mother’s exact reaction the first time she met me,” Qingheng-Jun manages to say after he has cleared his throat and before he turns to Brother and places a hand over Brother’s clasped ones. “Ah, and no need to be so formal, Xichen.”

Brother straightens from his bow woodenly, eyes on Lan Zhan when he responds. “Father, I brought A-Zhan as requested.”

Lan Zhan’s gaze snaps to his older brother, betrayal the only thing on his mind. Brother winces and shrugs subtly, a tight smile on his face as he meets Lan Zhan’s eyes.

“Thank you, Xichen. I must speak with you both. Wangji,” Qingheng-Jun says, staring pointedly at Lan Zhan’s form. “Will you be joining the conversation?”

He stares pointedly back, waiting to see what Qingheng-Jun will say or do once he realizes that Lan Zhan does not, in fact, plan to join the conversation. If his Sect Leader orders it, then yes, he will shift into his second form. Nudity notwithstanding, Lan Zhan will not disobey a direct order from the official Lan Sect Leader even if he is Sect Leader in name only.

(Although, Lan Zhan isn’t technically bothered by the nudity aspect either. He can smell his robes hidden in the qiankun pouch Brother is keeping up his sleeve. Brother knew what Lan Zhan would decide before he even brought him here, yet he is prepared for any outcome nonetheless.)

But if his sire is asking, then Lan Zhan will remain as he is. He knows filial duty is another rule he is meant to follow, but after breaking one, what is another? He does not want whatever this man is attempting to offer now that it is too late. Maybe if this man had ever visited him, had ever cared for him. Maybe if this man had never left the responsibilities of a father and Sect Leader on Uncle’s shoulders, had ever checked in with them once to see how they fared. Maybe if he had ever left his seclusion while Mother was alive, Lan Zhan would have given him a chance, but the Head of his weyr is dead and Qingheng-Jun has never been a part of their weyr and he will never be who Lan Zhan calls father.

When Lan Zhan was much younger, he struggled with these feelings. When Mother told him about how her marriage came to be, Lan Zhan realized he did not consider Qingheng-Jun as a part of his family. Yes, his mother’s imprisonment may have spared her life when the Lan Sect Leader first decreed it, but it only delayed the inevitable in the end. Lan Zhan can appreciate that he was given life half in due part to Qingheng-Jun, but a person does not become a parent simply for making a child. Caring for a child and nurturing their mind is what makes someone a parent.

That is why, so long as Uncle lives and breathes, Lan Zhan will never consider another man as his father.

Qingheng-Jun must realize this because he sighs and continues as if Lan Zhan’s stubbornness is of little to no surprise. Lan Zhan allows himself a brief second to feel smug about this before his attention returns to the conversation at hand.

“Father, why did you decide to come out of seclusion now?” Brother asks, his voice sounding no different than usual except for the slight tremor of uncertainty Lan Zhan knows Qingheng-Jun is not picking up.

“You misunderstand. I have merely taken a brief break from seclusion to see you both. I will be returning after this,” Qingheng-Jun explains. “I wanted to speak to you two about your mother.”

Lan Zhan rumbles out a displeased sound, unsure of what to classify it as. Brother stiffens beside him again, his smile strained. Their Sect Leader smiles once more, his scent smelling something like nervousness as he hesitates.

“What about our Head?” Brother rasps.

Before Lan Zhan can think better of it, he is pushing his antler more firmly into Brother’s hand. His goal is to distract him, to get rid of the pain and sadness in his scent that he rarely ever allows to show clearly on his face. Maybe Lan Zhan never smiles or expresses much of anything with his own face, but Brother’s ever-present smile is a mask all on its own as well.

Qingheng-Jun raises a brow in question. “Your head?”

A low growl escapes Lan Zhan once he registers the way Qingheng-Jun mispronounces their mother’s title. The syllables sound distorted coming from his mouth, the weight of them all wrong in the air between them.

“Head,” Brother corrects him, a wrinkle between his brows. At least Lan Zhan was not the only one who disliked his words. “Mother was the Head of our weyr. Now… A-Zhan is the Head.”

“Do you use their terms because you also feel those urges?” Qingheng-Jun asks then, his silver eyes glinting for a moment as he tilts his head to the side.

Lan Zhan does not like the edges their Sect Leader’s question is trying to hide. They feel too sharp, too loaded with an assumption he finds himself bristling at. Brother runs a hand down his snout, wordlessly asking him to calm down. Lan Zhan listens. His Treasure is asking something of him and Lan Zhan answers, pushing down the indignation he can feel building up from the tips of his claws. His emotions are easier to read in his first form since he has more practice concealing them in his second. He needs to improve on that soon.

Brother’s smile is tight again, his silver eyes heavily guarded. “I use these terms because I am a part of this weyr, Father. I was Mother’s Treasure. A-Zhan was our Claw. Now he is our Head and I am still Treasure. Uncle, too, is another Treasure.”

You are not a part of our weyr, is what goes unspoken.

Lan Zhan could cry from the happiness springing to life in his chest. He had always known that they shared some of the same instincts, but to hear Brother explain this so simply and succinctly to an outsider ⎼ because that is what Qingheng-Jun is. That is what he will always be while Lan Zhan is Head ⎼ soothes him down to his core.

No matter what, Brother is on his side. Even if he tricked him into meeting their Sect Leader out here after curfew, Brother is still on Lan Zhan’s side.

“I apologize,” Qingheng-Jun says when the echoes of Brother’s words have faded in the darkness around them. “I did not mean to offend either of you or the memory of your mother. I loved her, after all.”

It takes Lan Zhan a moment to realize he is not the one who growled in response to Father’s apology.

Brother’s teeth are bared, his silver eyes flashing in the moonlight. Rage, hurt, and sadness rolls off Brother’s skin in waves, but Lan Zhan does nothing to stop him. Brother has never been able to shift between forms but here under the light of the full moon with his Sect Leader and the Head of his weyr as the only witnesses, Lan Zhan thinks Brother may be able to reach the in-between point of his forms one day.

“How can you still claim that?” Brother manages to say, his voice unsteady, but Lan Zhan is more than able to hear what Brother is not saying, You secluded her here knowing she would die. You removed yourself from our lives entirely just so you would not have to see her wither slowly away and still claim that you loved her?

In the recesses of his mind, Lan Zhan is shocked that Brother would ever say anything meant to be contrary against their Sect Leader. He has always thought of his brother as more forgiving than him. When Qingheng-Jun has been mentioned in the past, Brother would visibly perk up with interest, soaking up any information he could about their absent Sect Leader. Lan Zhan was careful to remain indifferent. After all, why should news of a man he has never met matter to him?

Now though, with his brother truly angry and close to confronting their Sect Leader, all Lan Zhan feels is pride.

“Xichen, do you know why your mother was in seclusion?” Qingheng-Jun asks, his voice so terribly light that Lan Zhan feels the vicious urge to bite him.

Brother shakes his head, now trembling with the force of his anger. Lan Zhan nudges his snout into his side, scenting him in the hopes that it will help him settle. Qingheng-Jun only sighs, folding his arm behind his back as he begins to speak.

He tells Brother everything. Everything Mother had glossed over and implied to Lan Zhan a year ago is laid down at his and his brother’s feet.

Lan Zhan knows the moment Brother has come to the same conclusion Lan Zhan did about their different parentage when he abruptly pulls away from Lan Zhan’s touch. His hands curl into fists at his sides, his trembling now doubled.

The pain and horror in his brother’s scent punch the very air out of Lan Zhan’s lungs. Saltwater joins the mix of smells hanging in the air soon enough and Lan Zhan aches with the need to comfort his Treasure.

Qingheng-Jun finishes shortly after that, staring at them both as he waits. What for? Lan Zhan has no idea but he must realize he will not receive whatever it is because soon enough Qingheng-Jun is stepping away with a pained look in his eyes.

“This old one apologizes, but you both deserve to know,” their Sect Leader says before he nods in Lan Zhan’s direction and turns to disappear further up the dirt path.

Lan Zhan watches him leave, eyes on his back as the darkness swallows him whole. Brother’s shaking begins to subside as Qingheng-Jun goes, his body loosening of its own accord slowly.

Brother falls to his knees once Qingheng-Jun is no longer in sight. Lan Zhan finds himself shifting into his second form to kneel beside him without thinking. Even if it is unseemly to kneel when naked, Brother is in pain and it is Lan Zhan’s job to protect him. He was never supposed to learn about this, not this way.

It does nothing to change the fact that his brother is hurt now.

“You knew,” Brother chokes out. “You knew.”

Lan Zhan nods, opening his mouth to speak before Brother rushes to speak first. “Why did you let me believe that lie, Wangji?”

The use of his courtesy name is what finally cuts Lan Zhan. Brother has been calling him A-Zhan since he hatched and has never cared for whose company they may be in when using the endearment. Lan Zhan was a Claw and Brother a Treasure, but that did nothing to change the fact that Lan Zhan is his little brother.

“You are my brother,” Lan Zhan says without hesitation. His voice is raspy and hoarse from disuse, but his words are sure and steady. “You are my brother.”

“Half,” Brother murmurs, “Half-brother.”

Lan Zhan shakes his head furiously, reaching out to grab Brother’s shoulders. Relief floods through him when Brother does not pull immediately away.

Mother’s words go through his head at that moment and for lack of a better thing to say, Lan Zhan echoes them, “You are not my half anything. We are both our mother’s sons.”

Brother leans into his touch then, tears still streaming down his face. “That is not how the rest of the world will see it.”

“I am not the world,” Lan Zhan responds. “You are my brother.”

“You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?” Brother asks after the silence between them has become too much.

Lan Zhan nods.

Brother stares at him for a moment, his tears crystalline under the moon as they cling to his lashes. Eventually, he reaches into his sleeve and pulls out his qiankun pouch. Lan Zhan stands and allows Brother to dress him, twisting and turning where he needs to so his robes lie against his skin perfectly. Brother fixes his hair and guides Lan Zhan’s hands through tying his ribbon.

He is not Lan Zhan’s parent, spouse, or child but he is Lan Zhan’s brother. They are not allowed to touch each other’s forehead ribbons, but they can put their hands over the other’s and move them where they need to go so their ribbons lie straight. It is a system they developed soon after Lan Zhan was taken from Mother and the fact that Brother is still willing to treat him the same as he did before means more than words could ever say.

“When did Mother tell you?” Brother asks, eyes elsewhere as Lan Zhan brushes his robes down.

“Last year,” Lan Zhan says, glancing up when Brother inhales sharply at his response.

Brother grips his shoulders and meets his gaze, tears springing to his silver eyes once more. “She should not have done so, Wangji. We are children who should not know of this until we are older. You especially should not have been told this before I was.”

Lan Zhan blinks in confusion, not understanding. “Mother did not tell me everything, but I knew we did not have the same fathers. Besides, I was a Claw and now I am the Head. I am supposed to protect you.”

Brother shakes his head and pulls him into a hug, clinging to him with all his strength as tears overcome him again. Lan Zhan holds on, hands no doubt wrinkling Brother’s robes but uncaring of that as his Treasure’s scent sours with sadness again. It is clear that Brother is willing to work his way back to how they used to be, but this revelation is too new and unsettling for either of them to act as they normally would.

Even though Lan Zhan is certain that they will get through this, Brother stops calling him A-Zhan for some time after that.

Now that Lan Zhan is back in his second form, the Clan Elders decide to keep him under close observation.

When Lan Zhan first returns to his regular classes, he is surprised to note the seven Clan Elders standing in the back of the classroom. As far as he had been aware, the Clan Elders were much too busy to bother with the education of the junior disciples. In fact, Lan Zhan would go as far as saying the Clan Elders do not care about any of the disciples unless they have broken an important rule or disgraced the Gusu Lan Sect in a very public manner.

So to see them sitting in on his classes immediately puts Lan Zhan on edge. He can barely pay proper attention to the lesson one of Uncle’s favorite assistants is lecturing them about, not when he can feel more than just the Clan Elders’ eyes on him.

For once, Lan Zhan finds himself despising his usual seat in the front of the classroom.

It takes Lan Zhan longer than usual to realize he has been called on and he feels his ears grow hot as he both dully recites the proper answer and tries his best to ignore one of the Elders huffing loudly in displeasure. None of the other junior disciples make a sound but Lan Zhan can smell the amusement in their scents well enough to feel embarrassed.

He maintains his perfectly proper posture anyway and forces himself to pay better attention to the lecture. During the noon meal hour, he will find Brother and confer with him about this. See if the Clan Elders have been dropping in other classes as well or if this is targeted at Lan Zhan alone. A way for them to say that they have noticed his recent behavior and now that it is safer for them to confront him, they will if need be.

Lan Zhan is nothing more than a child, but he has always known the Clan Elders are cowards. Only cowards would demonize a woman killing the man who violated her. Only cowards would give that woman a death sentence of her own, claiming it to be the just thing to do when it is anything but. Only cowards would confront a six-year-old child when they believe they have the advantage.

Perhaps they do have the power and the right to put him down but Lan Zhan is not his mother. Mother made certain that Lan Zhan would have many more advantages than she ever did, advantages he and Brother would both have even after she was no longer in this world.

The Clan Elders may have imprisoned her, but they did not strip Mother of all the political power she gained by marrying their Sect Leader and providing him with two Sect Heirs. They would need a powerful and unshakeable reason to strike one of their own Sect Heirs down, a reason the entire cultivation world would not fault them for.

At least, that is how Brother explains it to him later as they are leaving the central mess hall to attend their afternoon classes.

"Do not give them a reason, Wangji," Brother admonishes him when they come to a stop before they go their separate ways for class. "Embody the perfect disciple they desire so much. Get them to grudgingly accept your position here by whatever means necessary. They will never be fair when it comes to you or me, but that does not mean we have to make it easy for them either."

"Mn," Lan Zhan nods, bowing to his brother before he turns on his heel and leaves.

At the sword training area, four Clan Elders stand on the sidelines, safely out of any unpredictable young child's sword swing. Lan Zhan barely spares them a glance as he gets into position and waits patiently for class to begin.

For the better part of a month, Lan Zhan's classes are shadowed by a handful of Clan Elders. None of them speak a word to anyone present, but they make their disapproval known through loud sighs and disparaging grunts.

Lan Zhan learns their scents well and avoids them in the hallways whenever he happens to come across their trails. The few times he catches their scents too late, he shoulders their thinly-veiled complaints on the "ghastly sight" of his scales and the "childish behavior" he is much too old for now.

None of them will ever say it outright but Lan Zhan knows they wish to punish him for his so-called excessive grief which is why they are now hovering over his shoulder, watching his every move in the hopes that he will crack under pressure. Lan Zhan is made of sterner stuff than that though.

He is a dragon. He was born for the sky and clouds that blanket their mountain. Water and wind do his bidding alike. His Treasures accept him as the Head of their weyr without complaints.

He is his mother's son and his grandfather's grandson, Lan Zhan will not break under the weight of the Clan Elders' scrutiny.

This becomes more than clear the longer Lan Zhan is kept under their watchful eyes. He takes Brother's advice to heart and becomes even more of the perfect disciple he had always strived to be, first for his Mother's state of mind and now because he refuses to allow his feelings to be used against him.

Dragons and the Lan are alike in the way that they show their true feelings through everything except their words. Lan Zhan is both, so whether big or small, his actions are twice as potent. His emotion-fueled behavior will not be what takes him from his Treasures.

Brother lost one Head already, Lan Zhan refuses to let him lose two.

(Two weeks later, Lan Zhan wakes thinking today before he remembers. He spends the remainder of the day with a fierce ache burning through him as he kneels in front of a familiar door.)

Lan Zhan takes one glance at Nie Mingjue and thinks, Claw.

Nie Mingjue is a stranger to him in all rights. Brother has talked about him constantly when he began attending the guest discipline lectures, always with a softer version of his usual smile on his face. He tells Lan Zhan everything he learns about Nie Mingjue, never leaving any details out. Brother's scent tends to swell and ripen with the force of his fondness and admiration for the older boy but Lan Zhan says nothing.

Talking is not one of Lan Zhan's particular skills. Others may regard him as eloquent, but that is solely due to the fact that Lan Zhan only speaks up when he is certain of the words on the tip of his tongue.

So it is unsurprising that even though he says nothing about the thought that crosses his mind when he finally meets his brother's friend, Brother notices anyway.

Maybe it is because of how intensely Lan Zhan studies him when the older boy isn't looking. How he sniffs the air as he analyzes the way Brother and Nie Mingjue's scents are complementary to one another. Or perhaps how Lan Zhan not-so-subtly reaches out and grips Nie Mingjue's nape to scent him into the weyr.

Honestly, Lan Zhan has no idea how Brother figures it out so quickly but he accepts that Brother will always be one step ahead of him regardless and leaves it at that.

Nie Mingjue takes his strange behavior in stride, stiffening for only a moment when Lan Zhan first comes into direct skin-to-skin contact with him. Lan Zhan waits until the older boy has relaxed under his grip before reaching out and taking his left hand. Slowly, he pulls it towards his face and presses his cheek against Nie Mingjue's palm briefly then steps back and puts the appropriate amount of distance between them again.

Brother is smiling, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he steps forward and smooths a stray lock of Nie Mingjue's hair back into place behind his ear. "Wangji has decided that you are a part of our weyr now, Nie-gongzi. Welcome."

"I don't know anything about dragons, Lan-gongzi," Nie Mingjue admits, his face wrinkled with confusion. "I would not wish to offend you."

Lan Zhan squeezes Brother's elbow, silently urging him to talk in his place. If Nie Mingjue truly wants no part in their weyr, Lan Zhan will accept that without complaints. He will not hold the boy to something he can not personally be a part of.

But if the only problem here is a lack of knowledge, then Brother can be depended on to remedy that quite successfully.

(Lan Zhan personally wants Nie Mingjue to accept his role as a Claw in their weyr because he can already tell that there will never be another person better at protecting Brother than him.)

"I can teach you all you need to know and anything else you wish to learn about us," Brother assures Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue raises both his brows in surprise. "Us?"

Brother's smile does not falter but Lan Zhan can tell without looking that it is dimmer than before from the tone of his voice alone. "I may only have access to this form I am currently in now, Nie-gongzi, but I am my mother's son just as much as my brother is. We share her blood and a few of the same urges she passed down. On top of that, Wangji considers me as one of his Treasures and he wants you to be our Claw."

"And what is a claw exactly?"

Lan Zhan and his brother wince in unison at the older boy's pronunciation. They both relax as Nie Mingjue chuckles at their reactions, his face softer and looking less severe than it has during this conversation so far.

"Claw," Brother corrects him, emphasizing where it is needed so Nie Mingjue can understand. "A Claw is a protector of the weyr. They keep Treasures safe, act as enforcers when our Head demands it of them. Wangji is the Head of our weyr and Grandmaster Lan is another Treasure."

Brother pauses there for a moment, turning his head to meet Lan Zhan's gaze. The corner of his mouth twitches, his right eyebrow slightly elevated as he tips his head ever so slightly to the side. Lan Zhan allows his stony expression to soften as he nods, humming his verbal agreement to leave Brother with no doubts about his decision. Brother's smile wobbles before it evens out again, blushing a very soft pink that Lan Zhan is certain no normal human would ever be able to notice.

"In other words," Brother turns to Nie Mingjue with a firmer grasp on his emotions. "My brother wants you to protect his Treasures."

Nie Mingjue blinks at them both, his scent spiking with embarrassment and pleasure all at once. Lan Zhan watches him closely, meeting his eye when the older boy's gaze lands on him. He knows this is very sudden and a lot to ask of someone he has only officially met today, but Nie Mingjue is Brother's closest friend and Lan Zhan's brother does not have very many friends.

What Lan Zhan knows of Nie Mingjue he has learned from Brother or through his reactions in this encounter alone. For normal human beings, this is not enough to entrust someone else with what they value above all else, but it is more than enough for Lan Zhan.

Besides, it is more than obvious that Brother intends to court Nie Mingjue in due time. Perhaps when they are both a few years older than they are now Brother will begin the courtship through subtle maneuvers before presenting Nie Mingjue with a jewel that is worth just as much as the bond between them. It is the ways of old, ways Mother never got the chance to experience herself, and ways Lan Zhan will make certain Brother experiences when he considers himself ready for them.

"Then it seems that I was already unofficially a Claw before your brother offered the position to me, Lan-gongzi," Nie Mingjue breaks the silence with, his pronunciation still off but better than before.

Brother lets out a startled laugh in response, his blush darkening further as he grows flustered. Lan Zhan feels his lips twitch with the urge to smile as admiration and amusement bubble up within him.

Nie Mingjue smiles then, his scent twisting until it is less surprised and more confident. "I would still appreciate being taught anything you wish to teach me before I accept. I would not wish to offend either of you after you have already trusted me with so much."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums, stepping forward with his hand outstretched.

He finds himself smiling when Nie Mingjue ducks enough to press the crown of his head into Lan Zhan's palm. Not a smile like Brother or others generally wear on their faces, but a smile nonetheless.

Nie Mingjue is not a part of their weyr, but he will be soon.

While Nie Mingjue is in Cloud Recesses, Lan Zhan learns how to ride a sword.

He absolutely despises it.

Having to fly by way of his sword instead of controlling the winds in his first form frustrates him. His instincts do not agree in the least with having to step on a thin sheet of metal and using his golden core to keep him in the air.

Almost as if Bichen knows how Lan Zhan feels about flying on it, he often falls from his sword. Many of the junior disciples he regularly trains with have either already mastered flight by sword or are close to it.

Lan Zhan is the only nine-year-old who cannot remain stable on his sword. The Clan Elders do not let him forget it.

As soon as word had spread that the sole dragon of Cloud Recesses was struggling to fly on his sword, the Clan Elders descended on Lan Zhan quickly. They linger in the back of his lessons again, beady eyes glued to Lan Zhan.

Nie Mingjue finds him on an afternoon the disciples have been given free time to do as they please. Lan Zhan is once again attempting to ride his sword, his jaw tight as his teeth refuse to unclench. Brother is not with him, something that Lan Zhan finds strange as he registers his Claw’s scent approaching but does not acknowledge until Nie Mingjue is standing on the sidelines of the sword training area.

“My Head, what are you doing?” Nie Mingjue asks after they have bowed in greeting to one another.

Lan Zhan keeps his gaze on Bichen, embarrassed that his Claw will be witness to one of his weaknesses. It has not been long since Nie Mingjue accepted Lan Zhan’s offer of being a Claw. Less than a month has passed since then and now Nie Mingjue will learn of how childish Lan Zhan really is and will be ashamed of being in his weyr. He will want to leave their weyr because Heads are meant to be strong and in control, but Lan Zhan can’t remain on his own sword for more than an incense stick’s worth of time before falling off.

Among the other disciples and his teachers, Lan Zhan is labeled a prodigy. Many praise him for his ability to do anything that is taught to him. He masters techniques children his age are not introduced to until they participate in Uncle’s year-long lectures. His golden core is powerful and he has been able to fly without a sword’s assistance for almost four years now. Riding his sword should not be as difficult as it is making itself to be.

Nie Mingjue waits patiently for an answer, brows pulled together in confusion as Lan Zhan holds his unsheathed sword up. He sighs quietly, resigning himself to the shame he will undoubtedly feel in full effect after Nie Mingjue has left him alone again.

“Flying,” Lan Zhan supplies. “I keep falling.”

Understanding dawns across his Claw’s face, his expression clearing quickly. “I see. What seems to be the problem then?”

“I dislike it,” Lan Zhan says, studying Bichen intently as if he has never seen his own sword before then. “I despise it,” he clarifies when Nie Mingjue’s confusion returns.

“Because you can fly on your own without your sword, correct?” Nie Mingjue asks, head tilted to the side in thought.

Lan Zhan nods, still refusing to meet Nie Mingjue’s gaze lest his shame be too great.

Nie Mingjue’s laugh startles him into looking up, blinking furiously as their eyes meet. Lan Zhan can see and smell the amusement Nie Mingjue is sporting at the moment, but he can also make out the fondness in his Claw’s scent as well.

“Well, it seems the only way to fix this is to continue practicing,” Nie Mingjue states as he claps his hands together once then steps down into the sword training area. “I will catch you if you fall, but do not allow your frustration to be your downfall. I struggled with learning how to fly my saber as well.”

At fourteen, Nie Mingjue seems much too wise and intelligent for his age but considering what Lan Zhan is, he has no room to talk. Instead, he hums his agreement and clambers onto Bichen again and again. And again and again, Lan Zhan’s Claw catches him every time he falls off without fail.

They do not stop until Lan Zhan is able to ride his sword longer than two incense stick’s worth of time without falling while Nie Mingjue smiles at him from below.

That is how Brother finds them, pausing as he watches Nie Mingjue lead Lan Zhan through his wobbly landing.

As Lan Zhan’s feet plant themselves firmly on the ground once more, he happens to look up in time to catch a glimpse of one of Brother’s rarer smiles. The type of smile Brother only shares privately, the genuine one that Lan Zhan would not hesitate to go to war for.

His Brother’s happiness means more to him than life itself and as the Head in their weyr, there is nothing Lan Zhan would not do for his first Treasure.

“Wangji, Nie-gongzi,” Brother calls out to them.

Lan Zhan does not miss the flush that rises to Nie Mingjue’s nape as he turns to face Brother, stumbling into a hasty bow as he greets him. Brother’s smile turns softer at the sight, amusement and fondness glimmering within the depth of his silver eyes. Lan Zhan watches them interact for an incense stick’s worth of time before he speaks up to excuse himself.

He reaches out to them both to scent them as he passes by, something bright and airy filling his chest up to the brim as they scent him in return.

Lan Zhan cannot be the terrible Head he believes himself to be if his weyr is happy. They are all young, after all, and they all have the opportunity to grow.

They will be fine.

When Lan Zhan is eleven, Uncle gives permission for Brother to embark on his first night hunt.

Brother is almost fifteen and very strong, but Lan Zhan worries for his Treasure every moment that he is gone. Lan Zhan had petitioned Uncle so he could accompany his older brother. Uncle had only shot him down easily.

The Clan Elders would never have allowed it, after all, and Lan Zhan does not want them to keep him from his first Treasure.

It soothes him when he learns Nie Mingjue will also be on the night hunt. His Claw will protect his Treasure. Nie Mingjue would never allow harm to befall Brother. Lan Zhan can breathe easier knowing his weyr will remain safe, but he finds himself growing restless as the days drag along.

Lan Zhan studies and trains diligently, keeping to himself as much as he always has before. Uncle sits with him for dinner every night but during the day, Lan Zhan is alone. The disciples still keep their distance from him, still tend to watch him from the corner of their eyes when he is anywhere nearby. They duck under awnings or doorways when he takes to the sky and they give him a wide berth of space if their paths ever intercross in the halls.

On the fourth morning Lan Zhan wakes after his brother's departure, he makes a point of not running to Uncle's room once he realizes that Brother's scent on him is beginning to fade. He stops in front of Brother's door on the way there, inhaling his Treasure's scent deeply before moving on again. It is still early but not early enough for the halls to be devoid of others and Lan Zhan does not wish for whispers of his odd behavior to reach the Clan Elders' ears.

Uncle is still in the process of getting ready for the day when Lan Zhan knocks on his door, so Lan Zhan kneels by the entrance and waits patiently. His posture is as perfect as it always is and his expression appears calm but his heart is thudding painfully away in his chest with each moment that passes.

"Wangji," Uncle calls from behind his changing screen. "Would you like some tea?"

Lan Zhan finds himself nodding before he remembers that his uncle cannot see him. "Yes, Uncle."

Uncle makes a noncommittal sound and emerges from behind the screen soon after, looking as polished and pristine as he always does. Lan Zhan drinks in the tranquil image of his uncle, fists clenched over his knees as he continues to kneel.

Lan Zhan watches as Uncle sends for a tea set and goes about preparing their usual blend of tea leaves when a disciple sets down a tray on the only table in Uncle's sitting area. Uncle beckons him forward, motioning to the empty space across the table from him and Lan Zhan keeps his movements measured and serene as he sits.

When the tea is done and Lan Zhan has finished pouring it into their cups for them, Uncle reaches across the table and cups Lan Zhan's cheek gently. "Deep breaths, Wangji."

He follows his Treasure's reassuring words and exhales heavily, inhaling deeply after a moment's pause. Uncle's eyes remain on him as he gradually calms, Lan Zhan's face still cradled within his palm.

There is an ache Lan Zhan has not been able to fully ignore since Brother left, one that demands his Treasures to be near at all times. But under Uncle's steady gaze and his familiar scent surrounding him, Lan Zhan pushes that ache to the side and focuses on the here and now.

"Brother's scent," Lan Zhan murmurs before an incense stick's worth of time has passed, eyes kept closed as he leans into Uncle's touch.

Uncle hums with understanding and allows his fingertips to brush the area behind Lan Zhan's ear, ensuring that his own scent will linger on Lan Zhan's skin throughout the day. "You may enter Xichen's room to take something with his scent on it, but do not linger. It is impolite to enter someone's dwelling without their knowledge."

Lan Zhan moves his head in a motion that could be considered a nod.

"Xichen will return in two day's time, Wangji. Be patient," Uncle admonishes, gripping Lan Zhan's shoulder with his free hand before pulling away and motioning towards their untouched tea. "Let us enjoy our tea and share our breakfast before we depart for the day."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums.

They drink their tea and eat their breakfast quietly. Lan Zhan remains calm for the rest of the morning but when he ducks into Brother's room and tucks a pair of his more favored robes into his qiankun pouch, the itchy feeling from before has returned. He has no time to reacquaint himself with Brother's scent before morning meditation begins and struggles to reach that zen state in between full awareness and unconsciousness Lan Zhan adopts for these sessions.

He skips the noon meal to return to his room and unceremoniously shove his face into Brother's stolen robe.

Brother's scent is a balm, easing him back into the serenity Uncle was able to draw out of him that morning. Lan Zhan refolds Brother's robe when the noon meal is almost done and settles it carefully on top of his bed then leaves. He manages to reach the central mess hall and quickly gulps down a bowl of rice before he’s off to his afternoon lectures.

Uncle scents him again at dinner and Lan Zhan sleeps easier that night.

Two days later, Brother returns just as Uncle said he would. They call him Zewu-Jun now and every member of the Lan Sect bows deeply before him as he passes. Brother has been raised since birth to fulfill his role as the Sect Heir, yet it is only now that Lan Zhan looks upon him and sees the bright future Gusu Lan has to look forward to.

Brother comes back with a title he feels he does not fully deserve and the cultivation world's eyes set on him. He looks tired with light purple shadows under his eyes that Lan Zhan mentally frowns at until they finally have a chance to be alone. Lan Zhan welcomes his Treasure back, returning the robe he took in exchange for Brother's natural scent now that he is by his side once more.

"When it is your turn to debut," Brother tells him later that night, a hand running through the ends of Lan Zhan's hair. "I will be by your side, A-Zhan."

Instantly, Lan Zhan feels his heart constrict in his chest and his eyes prick with the telltale sign of his tears. Brother has not called him “A-Zhan” for five years now. Five years too many if Lan Zhan were to ever be asked about it, but he has not so he kept his silence. Until now.

He turns and surges forward to wrap his arms around Brother's shoulders. He holds onto him tight, burying his face into his older brother's hair. Lan Zhan inhales deeply, uncaring of the tears now spilling down his cheeks as Brother's familiar smell of ink and wet stones surrounds him.

"A-Zhan," Brother sighs against the top of his head before he too is holding onto Lan Zhan with what feels like the majority of his strength. "A-Zhan."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums in response and closes his eyes, feeling warm with the force of his brother's love and his own love for his brother.

When saltwater mixes into his brother's scent, Lan Zhan only holds onto him tighter and says nothing. Words are not his specialty and never will be. They do not come as easily to him as they do his brother, but that is fine.

Lan Zhan does not require the uncertainty of words for Brother to understand what this moment means to him.

Each year Lan Zhan spends without Mother is another year his love for Brother grows tenfold.

When he wakes up on a certain day every month thinking today, he kneels in front of the Jingshi door until Brother comes to collect him at nightfall.

Each time Lan Zhan sees Brother smile, he thanks his mother for bearing and loving them to the full extent that she was able to.

When Lan Zhan thinks of Mother, he remembers her with the pain of his grief lessening ever so slightly until it no longer festers like an untreated wound.

Some days, Lan Zhan does not think of her even once. Other days, all Lan Zhan wants is to be able to see his mother again. He no longer dreams of her, but he smiles to himself even as his heart twists when he plays her favorites on Wangji.

He has forgotten what her laughter sounds like, has forgotten how rich and full her scent was when it lied on his skin, but he will never forget that he was half of her Heart and she loved her Heart until her dying breath.

Lan Zhan is almost thirteen when he meets Nie Huaisang.

Earlier in the month, Lan Zhan was surprised when Uncle informed him he would be joining the party departing for this year’s Discussion Conference held in Qinghe Nie. He had not argued, had simply hummed to show that he was aware of Uncle’s order and packed accordingly.

The journey had not taken long, but Brother remained steadfast by his side. The usual easy smile he always wore when Nie Mingjue was involved was gone, his form rigid and stiff beside Lan Zhan.

A few months before, Nie Mingjue had become the Nie Sect Leader after his father died. Lan Zhan had been able to glean enough details to know the former Nie Sect Leader’s death was no accident. Lan Zhan was also quick to put the rest of the pieces together, now fully understanding why Uncle ordered him to come along.

Lan Zhan knows without a doubt that if it were up to Uncle, Lan Zhan would have been freed from the Gusu Lan Sect shortly after being born. Even though he did not care for Mother, Uncle would have found a way to get them both out if he could. The Clan Elders still regard Brother with subtle distaste, but Lan Zhan's existence remains to be a well of bitterness and greed for them. As much as they despise him, they are none too keen on removing him from the sect.

Now that the Wen Sect has proven they are unafraid to strike down a Sect Leader, the Clan Elders intend to use Lan Zhan’s presence at this Discussion Conference as a show of power. They want the Great Sects to look at the delegation from Gusu Lan and see the beast that is always lurking in the depths of Lan Zhan's being.

The death of Nie Mingjue’s father not only preys upon the Clan Elders’ desperation but upon Brother’s betrothal proposal to Nie Mingjue as well. When they were both nothing more than Sect Heirs, Nie Mingjue could have possibly married into the Lan Sect and have his younger brother take over in his stead. Now that Nie Mingjue is Sect Leader and Brother is close to taking the title himself, the chances of a marriage between them being approved by either of their sects are low.

That will not stop Lan Zhan from trying.

When they arrive in Qinghe, Nie Mingjue is there to welcome them. His eyes never leave Brother’s face and Lan Zhan grits his teeth when his Claw’s scent becomes riddled with the same longing and sadness that shadows Brother's every step.

Brother does not spare Nie Mingjue more than what is polite greetings and small talk as Uncle directs the flow of the short conversation, quickly leading their delegation to their rooms. Lan Zhan can smell the sadness surrounding Brother all too clearly and wants nothing more than to scent him as a distraction, but they are in public and it would not do well to draw attention to the Gusu Lan Sect before the official proceedings have begun.

Lan Zhan plays all of Brother’s favorites on Wangji, glancing up from time to time to take stock of Brother’s expression. He smiles at first, his attention focused on Lan Zhan’s playing, but he is overcome with sadness again by the second song.

Three songs later and Lan Zhan can no longer be so far from his first Treasure when Brother is like this.

“Brother,” Lan Zhan says, “If possible, I would take on your responsibilities.”

“The Clan Elders would kill you first before they allowed you to be Sect Leader, A-Zhan,” Brother replies, spikes of anger now curdling in both his expression and scent. Lan Zhan knows his older brother well enough to recognize the anger is being directed at the thought of any harm befalling him and not at Lan Zhan himself. “They would make it look like an accident so none of them would have to admit to breaking the rules and submit themselves for punishment, but we both know this to be true. I cannot give you a death sentence for my own selfish reasons.”

Lan Zhan cups his older brother’s cheek, the corners of his mouth twitching downward. “Love is not selfish.”

Brother mirrors him, his palm large and calloused from swordplay but still remaining one of the softest things Lan Zhan has ever felt. “A-Zhan, love itself is not selfish, you are correct. But tell me how could I ever live without you? How could I leave the sect and you for dead all for the sake of love that I feel for someone who is not of my blood?”

The frown on Lan Zhan’s face is small but clear enough to show his displeasure with Brother’s words. “He is a part of our weyr. He is your mate. I am willing to shoulder your responsibilities to the sect, Brother.”

“I am not,” is all Brother says before he refuses to speak any longer on the matter.

The next day Lan Zhan is determined to say something more, to add to the subject, and change his brother’s mind. He wakes at five and washes up quickly, dressing in the traditional five layers of robes every Lan is expected to wear. He had long since turned his nose up at any fabric that was not silk or lace a long time ago, greatly disliking the way other fabrics tend to irritate his skin.

Mother had smiled the first time he admitted his discomfort towards the robes Brother used to help him put on when he was younger. She shared the same sentiment, stating that she had allowed only the softest of blankets and fabrics in Lan Zhan's nest and on her person. Brother too usually wore clothes that were on the softer side, but the texture of the fabrics did not affect him as considerably as they affected Lan Zhan and their mother.

Lan Zhan stops his thoughts in their tracks there. It has been many years but Mother's death still hangs over him like a dark cloud, bringing both sorrow and metaphorical rain to him. He directs his attention towards getting ready for the day, ignoring the grief he can feel in the depths of his heart.

After dressing, Lan Zhan does his hair, fixes his forehead ribbon so it lies straight, and goes to find breakfast. The meal is not the same as the one he is used to in Cloud Recesses, but it is acceptable and filling nonetheless. After that, he trails behind Brother, intent on convincing him to ask for Nie Mingjue’s hand in marriage, yet Brother knows him all too well. He avoids speaking with Lan Zhan at every opportunity, keeping his gaze away from both him and Nie Mingjue. Uncle is Acting Sect Leader, but Brother is the Sect Heir, and where Uncle goes, Brother is not far behind him.

Lan Zhan is not old enough to participate in any of the competitions being held, but Brother always manages to place first or second in all of them. He watches the competitions by Uncle’s side, aware of the many eyes on him from Sect Leaders and regular everyday servants alike. He fights to show no reaction the first time he catches Wen Ruohan's scent, choking down the bitterness of it all. Uncle makes sure to always keep himself between Lan Zhan and the probing gaze of Wen Ruohan.

Every time the jewel on Wen Ruohan's forehead makes a sound, Lan Zhan grips his robes even tighter to restrain himself from standing up and walking away. Not only would it be rude, but it would make the Great Sects doubt how much control the Lan Sect has over him. Wen Ruohan is not worth a moment of lapse in Lan Zhan's ever-present self-control.

When the noon meal hour has almost finished, Brother approaches him with a respite in the form of a smaller boy clad in Nie gray. His features are delicate and Lan Zhan can immediately tell the boy is nervous by how tightly he is clenching the fan in his hand. Even before Brother introduces them and sweeps away soon after to avoid Lan Zhan’s impending attempts at persuasion, Lan Zhan knows the boy is Nie Mingjue’s younger brother, Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang is a few months younger than Lan Zhan and set to attend Uncle’s guest disciple lectures the following year. The anxiety thrumming through Nie Huaisang puts Lan Zhan on edge, always feeling like he is one wrong word away from reaching out and soothing this frazzled boy himself. Scenting the Nie Sect Heir would be inappropriate, however. Nie Mingjue would excuse it, but the other Sect Leaders would only take this as proof of the fact that Lan Zhan is less than human.

Lan Zhan keeps his hands to himself as Nie Huaisang mumbles through many of his sentences, growing more and more discouraged after each of Lan Zhan’s terse responses. Many may say Lan Zhan is cold and unfeeling, but he is not blind to the way Nie Mingjue views his younger brother as something precious and worth protecting from the world at large. Nie Huaisang is Nie Mingjue’s Treasure and Lan Zhan wants to appear more welcoming and inviting, wants Nie Huaisang to feel comfortable around him, but he is unsure of how to do that.

The Jin Sect is the only other sect to have brought their young heir, but Jin Zixuan is not someone Lan Zhan would ever want to wish upon Nie Huaisang. Even if their time together is awkward, at least it will hopefully not leave Nie Huaisang in tears by the end.

“What are your interests, Lan-gongzi?” Nie Huaisang asks timidly, a flush high on his cheeks.

Lan Zhan hums, “Reading. The guqin.”

Nie Huaisang nods as his face turns a startling shade of pink. He continues to ask Lan Zhan questions no other person has ever bothered to ask him before and Lan Zhan continues to answer simply. He is sure that he is not making any progress in befriending Nie Mingjue’s younger brother, but he cannot deny that the curiosity in Nie Huaisang’s scent is distracting him.

Eventually, Lan Zhan is able to convince Nie Huaisang to play weiqi with him, watching and analyzing his every move. Nie Huaisang had mentioned how he and Nie Mingjue sometimes play together and Lan Zhan had turned to him very suddenly to challenge him to a game. He has played weiqi with Nie Mingjue only a handful of times himself, but the experiences alone were enough to tell Lan Zhan all he needed to know about Nie Mingjue’s character.

Nie Huaisang comes alive as they play. He appears timid and makes moves Lan Zhan would have generally classified as simple, but the longer they play, the longer Lan Zhan realizes that is not the case at all. Lan Zhan can practically taste the anticipation building up within Nie Huaisang as they move across the board, conceding defeat when Nie Huaisang’s plan is finally revealed to him.

They set the board for another round, Lan Zhan’s interest in the inner workings of Nie Huaisang's mind practically begging him to continue playing. Nie Huaisang’s plan is not the same as before but it is just as discrete and Lan Zhan cannot see it coming until Nie Huaisang has him exactly where he wants him.

It is all too clear to him that Nie Huaisang is intelligent and has an exceptional knack for strategy but he hides it behind his faked ignorance and paper fans.

Lan Zhan does not agree to another game, already aware that he will lose once more. Nie Huaisang deflates but then Lan Zhan haltingly asks him about his own interest in the arts and Nie Huaisang comes back to life. He can practically hear Nie Huaisang's mind at work as they spend the next shichen discussing music or reading excerpts from Nie Huaisang’s extensive collection of stories and poems together.

As the day fades away, Lan Zhan loosens ever so slightly around Nie Huaisang. He is not usually a fan of new acquaintances, but he finds himself enjoying Nie Huaisang’s company.

By the time dinner is approaching, Lan Zhan is reaching out to grip Nie Huaisang’s nape much the same way he did to Nie Mingjue all those years ago.

“Lan-gongzi?” Nie Huaisang asks, frozen in Lan Zhan’s grasp.

Lan Zhan rubs his thumb across the back of Nie Huaisang’s neck and releases him soon after. “You will be my Tail.”

Confusion flits across his face before Nie Huaisang understands. “Da-ge won’t be happy with that.”

It is good to see that Lan Zhan was not wrong about Nie Huaisang having knowledge of this already. To Lan Zhan, it made perfect sense for Nie Huaisang to learn everything he could about dragons if his older brother had been taken into the folds of a weyr, after all.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan hums. “Not for him to decide.”

Nie Huaisang blinks and stares at him, eyes gone wide as the realization sinks in. “Me?”

Lan Zhan nods. Nie Huaisang blinks again as his eyes begin to water, tears a very real thing that may happen in the next moment or so. Lan Zhan blinks back, confused over why this would garner such a response but decides to look into it later. Nie Huaisang apologized to him multiple times when he was in the middle of excitedly explaining something from one of his books or a poem he liked in particular and that was all Lan Zhan needed to know that when Nie Huaisang talks, others rarely listen.

That will never be the case in their weyr.

Nie Huaisang is correct that Nie Mingjue does not approve of Lan Zhan’s claim on him, but considering the fact that Nie Huaisang being added to their weyr is also what is necessary for Brother to finally talk to him, Lan Zhan does not have to listen to the Nie Sect Leader’s protests for very long. Brother’s explanation of weyr positions and Nie Huaisang’s role as a Tail is perfect, simple, and enough for Nie Mingjue to turn to his younger brother and see him in a different light.

After all, even when you focus on a dragon’s claws or teeth, you should never forget about its tail. Making such a mistake could be deadly.

Soon after they have returned from the Discussion Conference, Lan Zhan is given permission to venture into Caiyi Town unsupervised.

At first, he does not wish to go. He was granted this privilege through the Clan Elders, as all the other junior disciples had been as well. This is meant to be a group excursion with only those who had recently broken a rule not being allowed to go. Lan Zhan is the perfect disciple and therefore, the Clan Elders had no way of denying him this without raising many questions within the sect itself.

Lan Zhan, of course, could not care either way if he is allowed to go or not. He has no money of his own to spend in town nor friends to spend time with while there. Brother will be busy in Cloud Recesses with his own studies and may not accompany him. Asking Uncle would prove fruitless as well.

He ponders over whether Brother would believe him if he claimed to fall ill the morning of the excursion and decides that Brother would have already prepared for that kind of scenario. Instead, Lan Zhan grudgingly accepts the qiankun pouch full of money that Uncle pushes into his hands and ignores the teasing slant of Brother’s smile as he descends down the mountain with the other junior disciples.

The journey down is quick enough for Lan Zhan and as quiet as he expected it to be with no company. He is the first to step into Caiyi Town, most of the junior disciples still working their way down all those steps.

Caiyi Town smells of the lakewater that surrounds it and the street food that vaguely calls to Lan Zhan. In Cloud Recesses, their food is unseasoned and bland but filling nonetheless. Mother gave him sweets once as a child, something he found was not much to his liking. The smell of sugar lies heavily in the air and Lan Zhan decides to follow it to its source.

The marketplace is lively, not as loud as Lan Zhan expected it to be but disarming nevertheless. The stall selling candy is surrounded by children, some enjoying their sweets and others looking on with unabashed longing.

Before Lan Zhan recognizes what he is doing, he has already swept forward and bought each child in the vicinity a sweet. The vendor thanks him profusely, accepting the large sum of money Lan Zhan has offered him to pay. In truth, the amount is enough to buy out all the sweets but Lan Zhan only takes one for himself and asks the vendor to give the rest away to any child that wouldn’t normally be able to buy it for themselves.

He sweeps away, eyes roaming the marketplace as children cheer behind him. Their cries are not exceptionally loud, something about Caiyi Town as a whole keeping itself reserved. Lan Zhan doesn’t mind it though. He pops the sweet into his mouth and forces himself to get past the overbearing taste of sugar as he moves farther and farther away from the center of the marketplace. Here and there he can see the telling robes of his fellow junior disciples but walks past them without a second glance.

Even though his control is unshakable, for the most part, Lan Zhan keeps his distance from others out of habit. He passes one of the livelier inns and turns sharply away from the scent of what he can only assume is alcohol. The smell is bitter and sets his teeth on edge as he thinks of Mother before he viciously pushes the thought away.

Muscles he had not been aware of beforehand loosen as he moves forward, merely trailing around the marketplace in search of nothing in particular. Many vendors eye the cut of his robes and the clouds on his forehead ribbon, the only markings Lan Zhan carries of his position in the Lan Sect. They call out to him as he passes but Lan Zhan only nods to them in acknowledgment, silently apologizing as he continues to walk.

He stops at a quiet inn around noon and eats a simple meal, tipping generously once he has finished. He takes note of the inn’s name for future reference and decides it would be best to return back to Cloud Recesses for the remainder of the day.

He pauses as he steps out of the inn, ears immediately catching onto the words, “This came from a real dragon!”

Lan Zhan’s eyes trace the sound back to a vendor down the road with a small stall decorated in necklaces of all sorts. From this distance, Lan Zhan can make out the indistinct shape of teeth and glass jars hanging from the chords that cover the vendor’s stall. He is talking animatedly to a young man who peers down at the necklace being proffered to him before scoffing and walking away, muttering under his breath about knowing a scam when he sees one.

Despite himself, Lan Zhan is curious about what exactly this vendor is claiming is from a real dragon. He approaches calmly, inwardly delighted when the vendor brightens as he catches sight of him. The residents of Caiyi Town are aware of the dragon in the Gusu Lan Sect. None have seen him before today, but Lan Zhan is certain that they recognized who he was as soon as they saw the clouds on his ribbon. This vendor proves to be no different, even as his scent grows nervous, his expression and body language remain excited when Lan Zhan comes to a stop in front of his stall.

This close Lan Zhan can tell that none of this vendor’s merchandise came from an actual dragon. The teeth are too small, the water and wind caught in the glass jars too artificial, and the scales are nothing more than painted sheets of metal. The fans look to be made from high-quality material, at least, but Lan Zhan does not mention this to the vendor. He is more than aware of the fact that the vendor already knows and is hoping Lan Zhan won’t run him out of business by disputing his goods.

Lan Zhan reaches out for four of the tooth-bearing necklaces and pays the vendor more than they are worth before he turns on his heel and leaves. His lips twitch when the vendor thanks him profusely for his business, loudly drawing the attention of everyone milling about on the road.

It takes only one glimpse of his clouds for everyone to recognize him as he walks away and before he knows it, the stall is being flooded with customers.

Back in Cloud Recesses, Lan Zhan presents the necklaces to Brother and Uncle. Lans do not wear jewelry, not the type most can see anyway. He bought these on a whim, but he is glad when they silently wrap the chords around their wrists before hiding their hands within their draping sleeves once more.

As for the last two necklaces, Lan Zhan sends those to the Nie brothers. He enlists Brother’s help to get them delivered and is satisfied when Nie Huaisang sends him a thank you letter in return. Or as satisfied as he can be when only a week later, he receives another letter from his Tail informing him that he has somehow misplaced the gift Lan Zhan gave him. Lan Zhan takes that to mean Nie Huaisang did not particularly like the necklace he was given and is asking for something else instead as politely as he can.

(Years later, however, Nie Huaisang will tell him that he gave the necklace to a boy from the Jiang Sect with startling silver eyes who was in awe of the fact that a dragon had given him his own teeth as a gift. Nie Huaisang did not have the heart to tell the boy that the teeth were fake and instead allowed him to keep the necklace as a token of their new friendship. Lan Zhan finds that he cannot fault his Tail for this when he meets the silver-eyed boy for himself.)

Lan Zhan returns to the same vendor as before on his next allowed excursion into Caiyi Town and grabs the fan with a detailed drawing of a dilong on it, ignoring how much it resembles his mother.

Nie Huaisang shoots him a smile behind that same fan the next time they meet and that becomes the end of that.

On one autumn day when Lan Zhan is thirteen, he experiences the effects of his first growth spurt.

In his usual bleariness of the early morning, he mistakes the pain in his lower back as an ache from not sleeping in the traditionally accepted Lan sleeping position. Even though he falls asleep while laying on his back, he always wakes in the morning to find that he has moved in the middle of the night.

That morning he happens to wake up curled up on his side, his hair a tangled mess beneath his shoulder. He sits up carefully, distantly aware of the twinge near his spine as he moves. Gently, he turns at the waist and sighs as the twinge disappears almost immediately.

By then, Lan Zhan has decided this is a matter of little importance and begins preparing for the day. He forgets about the discomfort from the morning until the noon meal has passed and his back begins to ache again.

He is in the middle of sword practice when he parries a blow from his sparring partner and feels his shoulder twinge with mild pain. Lan Zhan ignores it, for the time being, and finishes the spar quicker than usual. His sparring partner bows to him after she has risen from the ground, her white robes dusted with dirt. He barely remembers to bow back before he turns on his heel and finds a spot on the sidelines to watch the rest of the spars.

Lan Zhan slowly rotates his arm, feeling his brows come together for a split second before his face smooths itself of all expression again. A slow and steady heat is spreading from his shoulder blades down to his waist, an unusual urge to scratch the knobs of his spine valiantly attempting to push through to the forefront of his thoughts. He ignores that as well, sitting out for the rest of the sword practice and excusing himself when the itching becomes too distracting.

The master swordsman in charge of their class waves him away, asking only once if Lan Zhan is feeling alright before he is dismissed. Lan Zhan is intent on seeing a healer but halfway to the healer’s hall, his feet start to lead him towards Brother instead. His back now feels like it is burning but Lan Zhan continues to calmly follow his brother's scent past the bustling main halls and into the back slopes of Cloud Recesses.

He finds Brother sitting on a dry rock by the cold springs, staring pensively into the waters.

"Brother," Lan Zhan speaks, surprised by how strained he sounds. He reaches up to grasp his shoulder before he can stop himself, the burning feeling only increasing with each moment that passes. "Brother," he repeats.

Brother startles as he turns to face him, confusion and concern blanketing his face. "A-Zhan? Are you unwell? What's wrong?"

Lan Zhan shakes his head, his grip on his shoulder tightening even further. "Brother."

"A-Zhan," Brother breathes, standing up quickly and rushing to Lan Zhan's side. "What’s wrong? Tell me."

Lan Zhan shakes his head, his tongue suddenly feeling too heavy. He feels too big for this form, his clothes constricting instead of comforting him with their familiar sensation and weight. "Brother," is all he can manage to say before he tugs on his sash to begin removing his robes.

Brother seems to understand because, in the next moment, his hands have replaced Lan Zhan's trembling ones as they methodically remove his three outer robes and hesitate before pulling Lan Zhan's two inner robes off as well. Lan Zhan only notices enough to nod, too used to nudity around his older brother to care about it now.

(Brother did mind for a while, but only because he thought Lan Zhan would feel different now that his second form was changing with age. Lan Zhan didn't and so their typical camaraderie had, thankfully, returned.)

Lan Zhan sinks into the cold springs after he tugs his boots off and leaves them by the bundle of his robes that Brother is slowly folding. The water calms him briefly before the burning on his back returns, and Lan Zhan submerges himself completely underwater. He wrenches his eyes shut and clenches his hands into fists by his side, taking stock of the pain.

It is different than it was in the morning, even different than it was not that long ago at sword practice as well. Before it was just a twinge or an ache he could ignore and push to the side to deal with later. Now it is like an invisible fire has sprung into existence on his back, taking shelter in his spine as his body screams to be released from this form.

In the next moment, Lan Zhan relaxes and feels the familiar shift in his bones take hold. His transition is swift and clean, his first form tuning into the rhythm of his Treasure's heartbeat. He moves with the change in forms, his head breaking the water's surface and inhaling the fresh afternoon air. His limbs stay underwater, but bits and pieces of his back are exposed to the sky above him. The fire is gone now, everything as it should be.

When Lan Zhan opens his eyes, he finds Brother gaping at him in shock.

Lan Zhan leans forward to brush his whiskers against the top of Brother's hair, chuffing as Brother lets out an inelegant snort he would never allow anyone else to hear in public. Anyone except for Uncle and Nie Mingjue, but they are not exactly anyone so Lan Zhan does not point out this exception. After all, their weyr has extended from three Lans to include two Nies as well.

Brother reaches out to press the flat of his palm against Lan Zhan's muzzle, moving upwards to scent him in return. Since his birth, Lan Zhan has almost always had Brother's scent on his skin. When he was with Mother for those first two years, his brother was not always available to scent him as often as Lan Zhan wanted to but since Mother died, Lan Zhan has made a point of scenting Brother daily. Brother did not do the same in return at first, but now he reaches out for Lan Zhan in either form without nary a thought.

"A-Zhan," Brother breathes into the air between them, one hand pressed to his own chest as his heartbeat quickens and his scent morphs from concern to awe. "You've grown."

He can already guess what will greet him, but Lan Zhan turns enough to glance behind him anyway. He freezes as soon as his eyes catch sight of his tail, much longer and thicker than it was the last time he went flying. His second form is changing by the day though, maturing and growing. Maybe it stands to reason that Lan Zhan's first form would also change to accommodate the progress of his second form.

Still, Lan Zhan almost cannot believe it.

While Lan Zhan's body continues to grow, his mind races ahead in leaps and bounds.

Brother is close to adulthood but not quite there yet. He no longer hopes for an official marriage with Nie Mingjue, but their sworn brotherhood is no secret. Uncle had approved and arranged for the ceremony to take place shortly before the Discussion Conference held in Qinghe came to an end. Still, whenever Nie Mingjue is mentioned, Brother’s scent goes sour with the force of his sadness.

Lan Zhan doesn’t understand why until Nie Huaisang sheds light on the situation for him.

Nie Huaisang is in Cloud Recesses for the year-long lectures Uncle holds for the guest disciples every other year. Three days earlier, Lan Zhan had spent the better part of the morning waiting at the entrance to welcome the Nie Sect Heir then show him to the guest disciple dormitories.

When he first caught sight of him, Nie Huaisang had smiled so brightly that Lan Zhan felt the ridiculous urge to glance behind him to check if there was someone else Nie Huaisang was so happy to see. His surprise must have shown because Nie Huaisang had laughed quietly enough for only Lan Zhan to hear after they bowed to each other and gave the customary greetings expected of them. Lan Zhan was certain that Nie Huaisang was going to walk close enough by his side to be considered improper, but his Tail had kept a respectable amount of distance between them and barely fidgeted with his fan as they walked further into Cloud Recesses.

Only once they were safely behind closed doors did Nie Huaisang sit beside him and press their upper arms together as they drank tea. Lan Zhan had calmed at the familiar position, envisioning both of their older brothers sitting across from them like they usually did when they all had tea together. While Nie Huaisang was in the process of reciting his newest collection of poetry to him, Lan Zhan had reached out and gripped the back of his neck. His Tail had gone limp in his hold, giving in without a fight to show Lan Zhan how much he had missed their scenting sessions.

It had not occurred to Lan Zhan that Nie Huaisang might be lacking in receiving physical contact until he came to Cloud Recesses without his brother accompanying him. At that moment, however, it became startling clear and Lan Zhan has made it a point to scent Nie Huaisang every day since then.

Brother has been unhappy all day, the sour scent of it cloying. Lan Zhan scented him before breakfast in an attempt to distract him but instead, he has Brother's sadness lingering on his skin, the weight of it dragging on Lan Zhan all day. It has had him on edge and when Lan Zhan feels like crawling out of his skin but is unable to shift, he plays music.

That is why when he sits down to practice his guqin after classes have ended and Nie Huaisang leans against his back, Lan Zhan remains stiff and upright. He plays all of Brother's favorites first before the notes blend into a song Nie Huaisang shared with him during his last visit with his brother.

When the song ends, Nie Huaisang reaches out and grips Lan Zhan's wrist to stop him from plucking the strings again. "Lan-xiong."

Lan Zhan inclines his head in Nie Huaisang's direction to show that he is listening. He does not miss the way his Tail's face softens, nor can he mistake the dull sprigs of surprise buried within his scent. His chest tightens, an unfamiliar feeling gripping him whole as he thinks of how often Nie Huaisang must be brushed aside and not taken as seriously as his brother to be caught off-guard when he immediately receives the full force of someone's attention on him.

He knows Nie Mingjue listens to every word Nie Huaisang says, knows that his Claw cherishes his younger brother more than anything in this world. Lan Zhan knows that Nie Huaisang's hidden reaction is not a result of his brother's actions, but the reaction itself still bothers him. No one in his weyr should ever expect their words to be ignored, especially not Nie Huaisang.

"Do you wish to speak about what is bothering you?" Nie Huaisang's steady voice draws Lan Zhan out of his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "You are troubled, my Head."

Words are not Lan Zhan's greatest strength. It takes only an incense stick's worth of time in his company to know this fact. Many think him aloof and reserved, always intimately aware of his ire but never of the other multiple emotions filling him to the brim. That Nie Huaisang can tell he is upset does not surprise Lan Zhan. Nie Huaisang asking if he would like to air his grievances does.

Lan Zhan wanting to share his troubles with the newest member of his weyr surprises him even more.

He nods, placing his free hand over Nie Huaisang's on his wrist. Nie Huaisang starts to apologize for interrupting him in such a manner, but Lan Zhan brushes it aside and grips onto Nie Huaisang's hand tighter.

"Brother is upset," Lan Zhan finally manages to say, eyes downcast and glued to their joined hands.

Nie Huaisang sighs, sagging beside him. "Yes, I have noticed Zewu-jun's mood has not been as bright as it should be these past few days."

Lan Zhan nods again, leaning into Nie Huaisang's warmth without much thought. "Do you..." He trails off, suddenly unsure of what exactly he wants to ask.

"Da-ge told me that there has been a sudden influx of marriage proposals for him recently. Our Clan Elders wish for him to marry sooner rather than later," Nie Huaisang speaks into the silence between them. “They want the line of succession to remain clear.”

Lan Zhan stiffens, fury and indignation rolling up from the depths of his very being. He knew Brother's future relationship with Nie Mingjue would not come without complications, but to know that others are willing to force his Treasure’s mate into a loveless marriage leaves him feeling like he is lost at sea. Unmoored from the stability and control he has taught himself from the moment he took his very first breath.

"Sect Leader Nie will⎼" Lan Zhan begins to say, his words resembling a long and drawn-out hiss he is more familiar with in his first form than in this one.

Nie Huaisang does not let go of his hand, does not flinch or pull away when faced with Lan Zhan's anger and in the recesses of Lan Zhan's thoughts, he feels awful for subjecting a member of his weyr to this. It is not any fault of Nie Huaisang's that their brothers will not have the chance to be together. It is not Lan Zhan's fault either but he cannot abate the rage building up within him that easily.

"I am more than willing to produce an heir for the Nie Sect, Lan-xiong. I told Da-ge that he does not have to marry out of duty, no matter what the Clan Elders say," Nie Huaisang states, not half as calmly as he is hoping to appear but enough to confront Lan Zhan's baser instincts head-on.

Despite his sudden anger, Lan Zhan inhales deeply and closes his eyes. He focuses on keeping his breathing normal, on finding his way back to the pier he has always kept his control tied to. Nie Huaisang waits patiently at his side, the last vestiges of fear fading away from his Tail's scent as Lan Zhan calms.

He opens his eyes when he is more than sure of his temperament and bows in apology, eyes downcast. Nie Huaisang flushes through his acceptance and then changes the subject, prattling on about how difficult his studies are. Lan Zhan hums where appropriate, mentally far away from this moment and glad of the fact that his Tail has not taken offense.

Later, Lan Zhan finds Uncle in his room before dinner.

"Wangji, did you wish to join me for dinner?" Uncle asks after Lan Zhan has given the proper greetings.

Lan Zhan shakes his head, holding his hand out in a silent question. Uncle meets his gaze as he nods, stepping forward so Lan Zhan can easily reach out and scent him.

"Sect Leader Nie is being pressured into marriage," Lan Zhan begins with, brushing his thumb behind Uncle's ear and wondering if Uncle will consider what he says next as gossiping. "The Elders will not allow this one to produce an heir. Now or in the future."

Uncle sighs, aging before his very eyes. "Yes, Wangji. They have come to accept Xichen as heir thanks to his sworn brotherhood with Sect Leader Nie and the political ties it will give the Lan Sect. They expect him to marry within due time and produce an heir for the sect so you never will."

"Brother knows?" Lan Zhan asks, raising his other hand so Uncle's face is cupped between his palms.

"No, but Xichen will have guessed already."

Lan Zhan hums, dropping his hands so they lie at his sides once more. Uncle sighs, a sound Lan Zhan is not used to but does not mind. This is not a conversation Uncle expected to have with his almost fourteen-year-old nephew, after all. Neither of them is at fault for the situation at hand but they both cannot help but feel guilty for the apparent outcome regardless.

Uncle reaches out and smooths Lan Zhan’s hair down, his scent curdling with sadness and guilt. "This old one apologizes, Wangji. I can do no more than I already have."

"Mn," Lan Zhan responds, not out of agreement but to show Uncle that he has heard him. "Uncle has done his best. Wangji is grateful."

Uncle cups his cheek for a brief moment before he steps back and dismisses Lan Zhan, urging him to join his older brother for dinner. Lan Zhan agrees, not bothering to point out that was his initial plan.

Though every meal is marked with silence, the one Lan Zhan shares with Brother that night is edged with something else. Something that has Lan Zhan itching to play more music in an attempt to curb the unfamiliar feeling.

"Brother," Lan Zhan says once they have cleared the empty bowls and dishes away. "Second Young Master Nie has informed me of his plans to give his sect an heir."

Brother's silver gaze burns against him but Lan Zhan remains steady. He has his brother's sole attention now, the full force of his focus that others tend to wither under. Lan Zhan reaches out and takes hold of his brother's hands in his, not allowing their eyes to stray from one another.

"I will not be allowed to produce an heir," Lan Zhan admits, feeling his heartbeat increase when Brother's gaze only intensifies.

"The Elders will not allow Mother's blood to linger in the Lan Clan through you," Brother says so softly that Lan Zhan has to strain to hear him. "If your future spouse is not a man, they will destroy your chances at marriage."

Lan Zhan hums in agreement, still gripping onto his brother's hands. "Brother."

Brother leans forward until their foreheads are close to touching, both of them bowed over their joined hands. "A-Zhan, let us find happiness where we can."

"Mn."

Lan Zhan's debut makes a monumental splash across the waters of the cultivation world.

The night hunt he accompanied Brother, Nie Huaisang, and a handful of other junior disciples on was simple. They had resolved the issue within two nights and returned to Cloud Recesses three days before the graduation ceremony for the guest disciples would take place.

Nie Huaisang had failed his exams, excited for his plans to return again in a year's time when Lan Zhan will be able to join the lessons. Nie Mingjue had plenty to say when he had found out but Brother had distracted him before he could cause a scene when he came to accompany Nie Huaisang home.

(Lan Zhan, for his own part, had asked his Tail if he had failed on purpose and sat silently through the adamant denial Nie Huaisang offered in a teasing voice.)

Since his debut, Lan Zhan and his brother have been regaled as the Twin Jade Dragons of Gusu Lan. Lan Zhan himself did not gain an official title like Brother had, but he is both pleased and discomfited with the unofficial one they have come to share between them.

After the guest disciple lessons are officially over, the Twin Jade Dragons see the small party from the Nie Sect off, wishing for their safety on their trek back home. Brother and Nie Mingjue bow to each other as is becoming of a Sect Leader and a Sect Heir, but Nie Huaisang's bow to Lan Zhan is much less formal than is expected.

Lan Zhan returns it despite all the eyes he can feel on him and hums in agreement when Nie Huaisang asks him to continue to keep in contact. He can already guess what Nie Huaisang's incoming letter will center around and mentally catalogs all the possible responses he can present in turn.

Months after Lan Zhan's debut, the Clan Elders invite him to a discussion Brother was unaware of until Lan Zhan mentions it to him.

Uncle and Brother both escort him to the meeting, standing firm by his side even when the Elders make their distaste over their uninvited appearance clear. Lan Zhan stays silent throughout the entire thing. His input isn't welcome here anyway.

By the end of it, Uncle and Brother have agreed for Lan Zhan to enter seclusion until the lessons for next year's guest disciples begin. The Elders had said they were concerned that all the new scents and people Lan Zhan will be joining in a classroom setting would upset his instincts and put everyone at risk. They want him to seclude himself and strengthen his control until there is no chance of him ever losing it.

Lan Zhan knows the extent of his control. He is well aware of this being another manner in which the Clan Elders want to exert their own control over him. Lan Zhan has never been bothered by new people and all their different mannerisms so he knows the Clan Elders’ reasoning to be flighty at best. New scents only take up enough of Lan Zhan's attention for him to recognize them as unfamiliar before moving on.

It has been too long since the Clan Elders have made their presence known in his life. Something like this has been long overdue.

Lan Zhan remains silent on their trek back to his room, musing over how to word his proposal.

"Wangji," Uncle begins with once they have entered Lan Zhan's room. "There is nothing Xichen and I can do that would change the Elders' minds."

"Mn. Wangji understands," Lan Zhan replies, meeting his uncle's gaze easily. "Brother, Uncle. Wangji wishes to make a request."

Brother nods. "If it is within our power to do so, we will listen and grant it."

Lan Zhan bows, keeping his eyes on his feet. "Wangji wishes to seclude in the Jingshi."

Silence befalls them, the shock and surprise in their scents filling the air between them. Lan Zhan remains bowing, keeping his posture perfect and proper as he waits.

"A-Zhan," Brother whispers, reaching out to grip Lan Zhan's elbow and pull him out of his bow. "Your seclusion will not be like Mother's punishment."

"Wangji understands," Lan Zhan responds, eyes still on his own two feet. "Wangji still wishes to seclude in the Jingshi."

Uncle grips his other elbow, pulling him a step closer until Lan Zhan is forced to look up so he can see the expressions on their faces. "You may move into the Jingshi. This would please the Elders, but your seclusion will end before the guest disciple lessons begin, Wangji. You have broken no rules. You are the model disciple that the Lan Sect is fortunate enough to have. Your seclusion is not a punishment."

Lan Zhan is surprised by the vehemence of his uncle's words for only a moment.

Uncle is steadfast in his stance and respectable. He is stubborn and holds the Lan Sect rules in high regard. Lan Zhan knows that Uncle was greatly affected by Mother’s punishment and his sire’s seclusion. As a result, Uncle has done his best to raise him and Brother to always respect those rules. Uncle was never fond of Mother, but he was still one of the only two people who believed her when she presented her case to the Clan Elders all those years ago.

Uncle is the one who recited the rules to Lan Zhan as a toddler and Uncle is the one who first placed a brush into Lan Zhan's tiny hand before guiding him through writing his own name. Uncle is the one who gave Lan Zhan his first guqin, who arranged for both Lan Zhan's and his brother's swords to be made, and who indulged Lan Zhan's scenting until Uncle grew used to daily physical contact. Uncle was the one who nursed Brother when he was sick as a child, who hurried to Lan Zhan's side the only time he found himself injured, and Uncle was the one who helped Lan Zhan practice keeping his expression blank even when overwhelmed with the sheer breadth of his feelings. Uncle was the one who gave him and Brother their courtesy names, the one who took them to see Mother every month, and the one who told them when she was no longer in this world.

Of course, Brother would not be the only one wary of a dragon secluding in the Jingshi again. Lan Zhan must strive to remember that his second Treasure cherishes him just as much as Lan Zhan does him.

"Wangji understands," Lan Zhan repeats, allowing himself to be pulled forward into the group hug Brother initiates.

Lan Zhan is fifteen when he emerges from seclusion.

During those isolated months, Lan Zhan was grateful that Brother came to visit him every day. They would share a quiet dinner and scent each other afterward before Brother would take his leave. Sometimes Brother would stay longer to hear Lan Zhan play on Wangji, but it happened rarely enough that Lan Zhan tended to savor his brother's praise on his playing. Uncle, too, would visit, only dropping in once a week to make sure that Lan Zhan was remaining relatively healthy and continued to have everything he needed.

Visits during seclusion are not expressly forbidden, but Lan Zhan knew if the Clan Elders had ever caught on, it would have soon been added to the wall.

Now Lan Zhan is once again allowed to be out and about. Uncle's year-long lessons begin tomorrow, the last of the guest disciples having arrived earlier today. Nie Huaisang arrived four days earlier and has come to visit Lan Zhan twice since then, tagging along with Brother to join them for dinner.

Lan Zhan no longer has his Tail's scent on his skin but he is looking forward to another year of Nie Huaisang's company.

Seclusion has left Lan Zhan feeling cemented in the Lan Sect's rules. He studied them countless times, pouring over every character with the utmost attention. He'd been too lax before, he is well aware of that now. The Clan Elders could have accused him of breaking a handful of rules and it would have easily turned his seclusion into the punishment he knows they still wish to hand out to him.

In appearance, he was the perfect disciple that the Clan Elders could no longer do anything except wait for him to misstep and lose control. In his heart, Lan Zhan knows he will never allow that to happen.

Uncle has given him the title of Discipline Master as a way to welcome him back into the folds of the sect. Lan Zhan now has the power to dole out punishment to his age-mates and those younger than him who happen to break a rule. As Discipline Master, he must aid in the curfew rounds, making sure that everyone is in bed by nine. Considering that there are now guest disciples staying with them, Lan Zhan is not expecting his first night to be quiet.

The light of the full moon gives Lan Zhan all the light he needs to prowl the corridors, his senses on the alert for any curfew breakers. Cloud Recesses is filled with new scents and sounds, but its appearance has not changed.

It is still the mountain high in the clouds that he was raised in. It is still where the rivers and streams that follow his command reside. It is still home, even despite the animosity he faces on its slopes.

Near the outer wall, Lan Zhan hears scuffling and quiet cursing on the other side. He pauses, gripping Bichen tightly as the scuffling starts to climb up the wall until it is located above his head.

A moment later, a hand holding two jars throws itself over the wall, the rest of the guest disciple's body following soon after to sprawl across the roof.

Lan Zhan looks up at the guest disciple, taking in his unruly, black hair and the white of his disciple robes embroidered with purple lotus flowers that mark him as a disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. "Step back."

The Jiang disciple stumbles, gripping onto the roof to keep his balance. "Ah! You startled me. How am I meant to step back now?"

Annoyance begins to build up within Lan Zhan at the Jiang disciple’s volume. He sniffs the air subtly, easily recognizing the bitter tang of alcohol surrounding the jars in the Jiang disciple's hand. Lan Zhan jumps onto the roof, eyes finding the Jiang disciple's own. They are silver, a shade darker than Brother's but similar enough in color. Lan Zhan feels unsettled for just a moment as he marvels at the resemblance between real silver and this Jiang disciple's eyes.

"What are you holding in your hand?" Lan Zhan demands, already knowing the answer but wanting to see if the Jiang disciple will admit to his rule-breaking or not.

The Jiang disciple looks from his hand and back to Lan Zhan, amusement swimming richly in the air. "It’s Emperor’s Smile! If I share a jar with you, can you pretend that you never saw me?"

Lan Zhan almost cannot believe the audacity of this Jiang disciple trying to bribe him. "Alcohol is forbidden in Cloud Recesses."

"Why don’t you tell me what exactly is not forbidden in your sect?" The Jiang disciple asks, his nose scrunched up in a manner that Lan Zhan finds he cannot look away from.

His annoyance has now evolved into irritation, none of it showing on his face but clear enough in his tone of voice. "Our rules are on the wall by the entrance. You should have read them when you arrived."

"Who has the time to read all those rules?" The Jiang disciple asks as he gets to his feet and smiles, the sight of it alone punching the air out of Lan Zhan's lungs. "Alright, if alcohol is prohibited in Cloud Recesses, then I won’t go in. I’ll drink it standing back here. That wouldn’t count as violating the rules, would it?"

Lan Zhan has only just regained his senses when the Jiang disciple gulps down an entire jar of Emperor's Smile, standing on the other side of the roof. A clear, small stream of alcohol trickles down his throat and glistens under the moonlight. A gust of wind passes them by as Lan Zhan’s agitation grows and Lan Zhan freezes. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, something deep within him unfurling and awakening as Lan Zhan catches the full force of this Jiang disciple's scent in the air.

He smells of lotus flowers and chili peppers, of something sweet like sugar and tart like berries. The Jiang disciple’s scent is both an unusual combination and exhilarating all at once. Lan Zhan's heartbeat increases, his breaths deviating from their normal pattern as the Jiang disciple finishes drinking from the dark jar in his hand. He watches him sigh, content, even as he blatantly disregards the rule Lan Zhan has so plainly explained to him.

There is a series of words on the tip of Lan Zhan's tongue, sweeping through his mind, and upturning his senses. He does not know what those words are until he has broken the second jar of Emperor's Smile after drawing his sword on this beautiful, brash Jiang disciple and fights him across the rooftop of the outer wall under the light of the full moon.

Silver. Shiny. Treasure, his instincts whisper to him.

"Treasure," Lan Zhan says under his breath as the Jiang disciple loudly mourns the loss of his alcohol. "...Mate."

a/n #2: please note those lines at the end that were lifted from the novel bc they are definitely not mine and i thought them fitting to include. i took bits and pieces of info about oriental dragons and mashed it with stuff about european dragons to create all this too.

thank you for reading my heart and joy! i spent months on this and hope to get part 2 out soon so we can all swoon over wangxian and their courting. but please be patient with me in case it doesn't come out very soon after all.

a huge thank you to eri for cleaning up the bulk of my rambling mess while still being super supportive. you're wonderful and i owe you one of my kidneys at this point. you can cash that in whenever you want, homie. and minzi did such an amazing job on the art and you should all shower minzi in love and adoration for it bc i know that i definitely will :((( <3

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