Aaron/Huaisang - Early

[creeksidealtarboy]

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.

Comments

[creeksidealtarboy]

"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.

[threedontknows]

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.

[creeksidealtarboy]

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."

[threedontknows]

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."

[creeksidealtarboy]

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

[threedontknows]

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."

[creeksidealtarboy]

"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.

[threedontknows]

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.

[creeksidealtarboy]

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

[threedontknows]

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."

[creeksidealtarboy]

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.

[threedontknows]

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."

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Most of them are common sense," he assures him, patting his shoulder. "Focus on the ones that are not."

Aaron enjoys most of the rules and the ones that he doesn't, he considers an appropriate sacrifice. No meat for the ability to live safely and with predictability is a small price to pay.

[threedontknows]

They all seem pretty stupid to Nie Huaisang, but at least there doesn't seem to be one that makes him cart around a giant saber and practice all day long.

But it's pretty good advice, so he nods softly and finishes his bun. "I'm just not used to sitting still for so long."

[creeksidealtarboy]

He looks behind him, like he might get caught, then lowers his voice. "I make up stories in my head when it gets too long," he explains.

[threedontknows]

Huh. So does he.

"What kind of stories?" he asks quietly.

[creeksidealtarboy]

Aaron glances over at the boy and then shakes his head.

"You should go back."

[threedontknows]

Huaisang frowns slightly. He's not used to not getting what he wants, but he can sense that if he presses now he's still not going to get a satisfactory answer.

He wipes his mouth and nods. "This way?" he asks quietly, pointing back towards the pavilion. He really doesn't want to leave his new friend.

[creeksidealtarboy]

"I have my studies," he tells him, but still nods to his answer. "It isn't far for you."

[threedontknows]

Nie Huaisang has to actively stop himself from pouting. The boy was already kind enough, he should probably just be grateful that he even bothered with him.

He bends at the waist in a low bow. "Thank you, young master." Then Huaisang rights himself and scurries back off towards the original pavilion, hoping to catch the last few minutes of the lecture without getting into trouble.

[creeksidealtarboy]

The next year, Aaron finds himself waiting for the boy that had been such a disappointment the year before. Would he return this year? Would he be there?

He sits on a bench, enjoying the sunshine, watching younger children play, while he waits on the disciples.

[threedontknows]

His year had been a certifiable disaster - he hadn't passed the lectures, he hadn't learned anything other than what the birds were like in Gusu, and Lan Qiren had written a very snippy note to his brother which forced him to practice the saber for weeks after he came home. Thankfully Da-ge's soft spot for his younger brother won out over his anger at the failure, and he only made Huaisang do two days of extra saber practice before letting him go back to his painting.

But then the next year came around. He'd been hoping he would get to skip to the next year and actually be with his peers, but his brother was adamant that he try again.

And so Nie Huaisang found himself back in Cloud Recesses. He was happy to see Lan Xichen though, and spent some of the first day with his older brother's best friend talking about poetry and silk fans.

[creeksidealtarboy]

Aaron passes Huaisang wordlessly, but he slips a bit of paper into his hand as he does, averting his eyes from the boy's companion and offering a deep bow before skittering off to his destination.

Folded in Huaisang's hand is a paper bird. A little chick, just the size of his palm.

[threedontknows]

Nie Huaisang is on his way to the evening meal when the boy with hair like sunshine passes him by. He moves before he's able to respond with a bow of his own, and blinks softly as he opens his palm and looks at the little origami bird.

He's quiet for a long while after that, though slips the paper into his sleeve and hurries off to the dining pavilion to sit with the other students. He wants to see the boy again, but somehow he doubts that he will.

He'll see him again when the boy wants him to. He just wishes he could get a read on his personality. To give him such a pretty gift, but to just run off! Obviously he wants to be his friend.

[creeksidealtarboy]

He does want to be his friend, but he doesn't know how to do it. He doesn't want him to cry again and he doesn't want him to fail.

The next day, the next time he sees him, he slides him a paintbrush. A symbol, rather than a gift. He knows what he'd rather be doing, but he has to focus!

He can't fail again.