openmisc | Aaron/Huaisang

Aaron/Huaisang - Early

He was simply Aaron when his boat landed on the coast. He remained only Aaron when he was pulled from the small boat and taken to a healer, who found him not only alive and breathing but strong and capable. He was taken in by a clan, a strong clan, one of rules and laws and principles, and Aaron began to thrive there. He doesn't talk much, chooses to smile and fake his way through most interactions, but he proves himself to be a diligent student and learner. He spends his time reading or practicing, and they assess that he isn't too far behind his peers. He will catch up eventually.

But there's the matter of his appearance. He's an odd child, fair of skin and hair and eyes. He's been able to prove himself with his own clan, but that doesn't mean that the others will think the same of him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Said young boy approaches the main pavilion, as he's done time and time again, walking a little closer to his older brother with each small, timid step. He's spent time with Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, the elder and the heir of the Lan Clan, but never in this capacity, never as future pupil. He wants to cling to his Da-ge and beg him not to do this - he'll work really hard with the other Nie disciples, but he knows it's hopeless. Nie Mingjue's made up his mind, and he won't be persuaded otherwise.

He stands beside his brother and circles his arms to bow low to the Lan. As he rises up he catches a glimpse of blue eyes, but then the moment is broken, and he's being ushered into one of the receiving rooms for a tea ceremony and arrival banquet.

He's determined to see those blue eyes again though.

He wouldn't dream of sneaking into the lectures, but his gaze follows the other boy for as long as he can before he's ushered off to his other duties. He shakes his head, trotting off obediently after a few of his friends.

Aaron sits outside later, legs crossed, pretending not to listen to the last part of the lectures he had mostly memorized by this part.

Huaisang hates this. He hates being away from home, away from his brother, his birds, his little precious things, the servants who dote on him like a child and pinch the remaining baby fat on his cheeks. He doesn't mind coming to Cloud Recesses occasionally - the food is bland and the rules are annoying, but he always had the protection of being a Nie Heir. Standing in the white robes of a disciple, the sleeves too long for his arms and the hem catching on his feet, he feels completely out of place.

The first day of the lectures are exceedingly boring. The first week, really, since all they do is go over the 3,000 rules of Cloud Recesses and the Gusu Lan. What makes it worse is they're expected to listen to every single one without laughing or falling asleep, and Nie Huaisang just can't handle that kind of monotony.

He manages to sneak out before the end of the lectures to just get a little air, pulling out his fan to twist between his hands as he sits down on one of the steps. He doesn't notice the other boy yet, too distraught from homesickness to pick up his head.

Aaron opens one of his eyes and glances to the other boy.

"They aren't finished yet," he says, hands in his lap.

He's breaking the rules, and Aaron likes his rules. He likes the way they tell people what to do and makes them predictable and easy. He likes the routine of knowing what comes next and what will happen later. He likes the structure of it all, the way the consequences are lined up so there aren't any surprises. It's neat and efficient.

And of course someone is already screwing it up.

Huaisang's head picks up from where he's dropped it into his hands. He quickly rubs at his eyes, because of course he's been crying, and they widen when they land on the boy who's spoken to him.

It's the ghost. The blue-eyed boy.

"You speak our language," he says shakily.

"No I don't," he tells him serenely. "I speak my language."

He has no discernable accent or lilt to his words, only those of what the rest of his clan might.

He frowns. That isn't what he meant -- he twists his closed fan between his hands.

"I just thought...because you're a foreigner..."

He raises his head. "My name is Lan Yalun," he tells him. "I live here in Cloud Recesses. You don't. You are the foreigner."

Lan Yalun? He looks back at him, blue eyes and fair skin and Lan headband, and ducks his head a little bashfully. "I just meant...you weren't born here..."

He feels like an idiot though, the more he talks the worse he's making it. He just can't seem to stop though.

"And you're white."

"Yes."

He lets out a long breath, focusing on his mind and his body like he's been taught. "Why are you crying?"

It's just weird, is all. He just feels the need to point that out.

"No reason," he says, wiping at his eyes again. Does it still look like he's been crying? He doesn't want that. "I'm hungry."

It's not a lie, he is hungry.

Hm.

He hops down off of the bench he's sitting on. "Come on," he says, but doesn't wait for him.

Nie Huaisang perks up slightly, but the boy's already moving when he realizes he should be up and following. He jumps up and hurries after him. "Wait, wait, wait, don't leave me behind!"

He waves his hand with his fan still clutched in his palm, finally catching up to the boy with minimal tripping over his feet. "Where are we going?"

"Perhaps if you eat, you'll be more attentive," he says, winding his way through the little homes and buildings towards his own. He's lived here for a long while, but he's proven to be mostly self sufficient, but he's still too young to live on his own. There was an old woman who took him in, her own children grown and gone.

He darts inside and brings out a steamed bun.

Well, it’s not that great a stretch to assume that he’d listen better with food in his stomach. The Lan meals are so light, the last few days he hasn’t had a full belly, not even during the banquet. His eyes widen when he sees the fluffy steamed bun.

“For me?”

He’s almost afraid to take it from him.

He nods and holds it out for him again.

"Yes. But you have to tell me why you're here," he answers. "You're too young. You're no older than me."

Huaisang hesitates, because this feels like some kind of trick question. But he takes the bun and starts to eat it, nearly crying because it tastes so good, but it's also not a bun from home. There's no smoked meat inside, just more vegetables.

"My brother," he says, mouth half full. "My brother made me."

Aaron tilts his head, watching him. "Why?"

He uses the pause allotted to him by having more food in his mouth to delay the answer, but when he swallows he still hasn't come up with what to say.

"He's...he thinks I need more help."

Huaisang looks at the lacquered wooden walkway. "He's the Nie Clan Leader."

"I know who he is," he insists. "Do you need help? Are you stupid?"

He isn't actually asking maliciously, but more of a way to try to understand.

Huaisang tries not to look insulted, because maybe he is! But his brother doesn't think so.

"I just don't care about cultivating," he admits quietly.

"What do you care about?" he asks, turning and finding another bun. This one he tears apart and hands the other half to Huaisang.

He brightens up, just ever-so-slightly, when he's asked about what he cares about. He takes the bun with a gracious nod and eats this half a little slower. "I really like painting, and birds," he says, chewing thoughtfully. "Da-ge said I could choose, but that was before..."

Huaisang shakes his head. "That was before, and now he wants me to work on my golden core."

Before their father died. Aaron paid attention to the news; it had been what everyone was talking about for weeks.

"Leaving the lectures will not help you with that," he points out.

Before their father was killed by a man who was supposed to be his friend. Wen Ruohan had expressed his deepest sympathies when the elder Nie had gone mad from a broken saber, even offering to take little Huaisang under the care of his clan until Mingjue was confident in his role as sect leader.

Nie Mingjue had been skeptical and rightfully wary. Huaisang's never been more grateful for his brother's natural mistrust in people who have done wrong.

He doesn't care about his golden core, but he doesn't want to let Mingjue down. He sighs. "It was so long though. 3000 rules is too many."

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