openmisc | Pagan/Huaisang

Pagan folds his arms across his chest and watches him with narrowed eyes.

But eventually he does find himself back in bed, curled up to sleep.

And the next morning, he walks the grounds, enjoying the gardens, pretending like nothing happened.

Nie Huaisang sleeps for two hours, then rises. His breakfast will be delivered in Nie Mingjue's old room - the room of the Sect Leader, but for the moment he has the moment to himself.

"Da-ge," he says, finally kneeling beside the floorboard. He pries it up with delicate fingers and looks down in the small cache, his brother's severed arm stilled by a blanket of talismans. "Da-ge, you were restless last night. I need you to still."

He reaches down to touch the back of his brother's hand. "Min Pagan is visiting. He misses you. Is that why you're so agitated? You need to quiet, Da-ge. Hush."

Nie Huaisang sighs and replaces the floorboards. He reseals his room and steps away to take his breakfast and read his correspondence, an hour or so later appearing once more in his own gardens. He looks more put together than he did the night before, cheerful despite not being well rested. "Min Zongzhu! Good morning!"

Pagan knows how to play this game. He smiles, giving him a bow. "Ah, Xiao Nie, you are quite cheery this morning. I thought I'd visit Qinghe properly."

He doesn't know why, but he feels as if he needs to leave. As if something is pushing him away.

That is a shame, he does enjoy Min Pagan's company. "It's been some time since you've visited," Nie Huaisang says, smiling and returning the bow. "I envy you. There's a theatre troupe that plays in Qinghe, their latest play is the talk of the city."

Pagan smiles. "Have you seen it yourself?" he wonders, knowing the answer.

"No, I haven't had the time," he admits sadly, fluttering his fan in front of his face. "I'd like to go though! My advisors keep me here."

Pagan grins at that, seeing an opportunity to keep trying to dig at his mask.

"Fuck your advisors. Come with me."

“Sect Leader Min presents a tempting offer,” Nie Huaisang replies, frowning softly. He did have to prepare for his meeting with the Jin next week, but -

“Okay.”

He grins quietly. “But I need to change - I don’t want to be identified right away.”

"I'll be waiting outside the gates," he grins, giving him a low bow.

Min Pagan is a bad influence. His father used to say that, didn’t he? Nie Huaisang understands the sentiment now, tiptoeing as he is through his chambers to throw on some less suspicious clothing. Nothing too fine, and nothing with Nie colors or the beast head - he eventually settles on some old robes he’d purchased for later plans, pinning his hair back up before heading down to meet Min Pagan at the gate.

"I almost didn't recognize you," he says, having recognized him immediately. "Truly, Xiao Nie, that is not a suitable look for you. You should be in your pretty silks again after this."

But he is ready to walk, gesturing for Huaisang to follow.

“Liar,” Nie Huaisang laughs, “but thank you. I have a few outfits suitable for saber practice - not many, of course.”

He follows along with a single glance over his shoulder, making a silent promise to return to his brother that he nearly always does when leaving the Impure Realm.

Pagan is content to siphon all the attention for himself, leaving none of the plainly dressed figure at his side. He's energetic and charismatic, delivering glances to most who pass, speaking volumes while saying nothing.

"This has grown into quite the bustling place," he remarks to his companion.

He’s happy enough not to have eyes on him, it makes for a nice change of pace not to be scrutinized and watched closely every single hour of the day. And Min Pagan is casually charming, flirtatious without meaning to, diverting and friendly in a way that Nie Huaisang has missed dearly.

“Hasn’t it just?” He smiles quietly to himself, pleased. “Da-ge worked hard to build it up after the war.”

"I'm sure he did," he drawls, grinning a little at someone who walks by.

"Your brother's influence is everywhere."

He nudges him as they walk. "Even on you."

He knows that Pagan doesn’t know the truth and how correct he really is, and so he smiles quite genuinely before his cheer faded. “I know I was a disappointment to him,” he says quietly. “I hope I can be half the leader he was.”

He keeps his gaze ahead.

"You were not meant for this position, Xiao Nie. Your brother did not want that for you." Huaisang was meant to be a gentleman. To bring the finer things to the rough and angular Nie clan.

"You were not a disappointment to him. He did not understand you and his affection shows in - other ways."

He lets out a breath.

His expression becomes distant, his eyes sad. Da-ge didn’t understand him in the end, and he didn’t understand his Da-ge. If he hadn’t kept the secret of the sabers from him he might have been more sympathetic to his efforts to make him constantly practice and learn the techniques of the Nie.

“Did he tell you what he did to me in one of his fits?”

"No," he answers softly, honestly. "Tell me?"

He gently steers them away from the crowds, still on their way to their destination, but slower. Quieter.

Nie Huaisang doesn't want to sully the memory of his Da-ge, but there was a lot that happened in the Impure Realm that stayed behind those tall, fortress walls. His illness was exacerbated, but his rages still happened, and for a lot of it Nie Huaisang was the person who bore the brunt of the abuse.

"He smashed and burned my things."

He looks ahead, squinting slightly as he recalls that day. He'd been so wounded by his older brother in so many ways. "Emptied my room and made me watch as he set them all on fire."

It all just makes Pagan - sad. That anger, that rage, that wasn't who he knew. Of course he had a temper and was prone to foul moods, but that sort of cruelty was -

Well, Pagan didn't like who he became as the end neared. And it came much faster than he anticipated.

"I am sorry to hear that."

"He was so angry with me," he says quietly, shaking his head. "I couldn't understand why then. Why then, if he wasn't disappointed with me?"

He sighs softy, hand twitching at the thought of pulling out his fan.

"He suffered a similar illness to my father. You remember how he was in the end, don't you?" His father's saber had been broken; everyone understood that his spiritual power faded after that and caused the illness. But Nie Mingjue's illness, his qi deviation, had been so sudden and mysterious.

Pagan remembered. He remembered because he had been younger then, naive. He had thought perhaps it wouldn't happen. That the illness wouldn't take the man that he had come to adore and look up to.

His death was what caused Pagan to finally kill his own father. Enraged by his own grief and pain, he had finally slit his throat, blaming it on someone else.

And then Nie Mingjue was there and Pagan, once again, had hope. The illness wouldn't touch him, the madness wouldn't rear its ugly head.

Twice he's had his heart broken.

"I remember," he says with a frown, staring straight ahead.

He remembers how somber Min Pagan had been at his father's funeral. As his father's close friend he'd expected that reaction from him, something sad and upset by the tragic events. He also remembers how angered he'd looked at his brother's memorial - most people were bewildered, his brother's body went missing after all - but Min Pagan had looked like Nie Huaisang had felt all those weeks after when he uncovered the truth.

But he didn't know the truth. No one did. It just looked like another Nie Sect Leader qi deviating, like father like son.

He frowns to himself.

"We know that wasn't Da-ge. We know." That's what counts.

He sets his jaw. "We know. The rest of the world doesn't, but we do. And we remember," he says, placing a hand on his shoulder a moment.

"Come, I think your troupe is this way." He just has to follow the sounds of excitement.

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