openmisc | Pagan/Huaisang

It would haunt him, he realizes. His Da-ge does haunt him.

“I’d like to see it some day.”

He realizes how it sounds, but he’s sincere. He wants to pay his respects to Min Pagan’s daughter - and he’s fascinated by this side of him, this unexpected story that’s emerged.

"I - think I would like that."

But that's all he can say because they've made it to the gates, to the way it opens up to the mansion near the mountain. The people are a mixture of ones who look like Pagan and Huaisang and those who are from the other side of the border, which isn't so much a border this far out but an invisible boundary that no one really notices. The Min's have been able to seamlessly integrate his people, his cultivators and his culture, with those of their neighbors. Pagan has been the most successful in this.

He dismounts, gesturing for Huaisang to do the same.

"Come, you're tired. Let me show you to your room."

Nie Huaisang’s glad that Min Pagan will grant him such a private thing. He’s even more glad to change the subject - it was a heavy topic, and Nie Huaisang needs a little time to think.

The realm of the Min is more bustling than he remembers, and a lot more diverse too. He takes it all in as they walk up to the Min family quarters, letting servants take his horse and returning the polite bows to the people he passes.

Shennongjia is a beautiful place, but Pagan has no eyes for it now. He does, as they approach the doors, point out a flock of colorful birds standing along the wall.

"They nest there when it's warm," he tells him with a smile, but continues walking into an open wing, doors covered in cloth to let the cool air circulate.

They’re very beautiful birds, but Pagan is right, Nie Huaisang is tired. He walks into the airy chambers, similar but very different in the way they feel since he was a child exploring these very rooms, head swiveling to look at all the art and carvings on the high walls.

It is far from the modest lands of the Lan. The White Cloud Fortress is decorated in reds and golds, the colors blending together in all the art and walls.

"Sleep well, A-Sang. If you need anything, Sunder is just outside the door."

The rooms that Min Pagan house his guest is are impressive, bright and rich but not obnoxious like the gold of the Jin. Nie Huaisang bows to his host and then shuts the doors, immediately sending a butterfly to his advisors asking about the whereabouts of certain Jin and Wen disciples during a certain period of time.

It’s a wide net to cast, but he’s determined to figure out who did this to his friend and closest ally.

Pagan doesn't sleep well that night. He spends his time at Lakshmana's shrine, bent in prayer as he fashions a new bell for her. It's well after midnight when he stands up, legs shaking, and retires to his room to fall asleep face down on the bed.

Nothing about that shows in the morning. He's up bright and early, whistling a little as he walks through his home, off to ensure that Huaisang is awake. He has a full day planned for them.

Nie Huaisang sleeps well, as far as his usual sleep schedule goes, and he wakes early in the morning to wash and dress and rebraids his hair. He leaves the room and nearly runs into Min Pagan himself, smiling in apology for almost knocking him over.

"Good morning, Sect Leader Min," he says with a coy bow at the wait.

"There you are!" he declares, returning the bow. "Come, I had quite the meal prepared for you this morning. Moong Dal Chilla," he declares, as if that might mean something to the younger man.

He knows the word ‘dal’ - lentils, if he remembers his time on the border when he was a child. But the rest is a mystery, and he’s eager to try whatever delicacy Pagan’s set out for him.

“You’re too good to your guest,” he says with a smile, taking his signature fan out from his sleeve.

"We aren't known for our hospitality, but that's because no one comes to visit," he laughs, as if he didn't just take him through an illusion of a rock in order to get here.

He leads him through the halls to a raised table with seats around it. Ishwari had insisted on the table, and Pagan had accommodated her, of course. He gestures to one of the cushioned chairs and the table, set with their breakfast.

The raised seats are strange, but Nie Huaisang doesn’t say anything about the custom. He takes his seat, feeling wobbly, and looks down at the yellow pancake with a smile.

“This looks delicious,” he tells him. And the tea! So fragrant! Nie Huaisang picks up his cup and inhales appreciately.

"Eat them as you wish. And the tea is spiced so - be careful," he warns with a laugh. It's warmed with cinnamon, after all.

"I can handle a little spice," he says, "I'm from Hebei, after all." He's no Jiang, but he can handle peppercorns and turmeric here and there!

He picks up his cup and sips carefully, warned by the smell of the spice. It's delightful and warm, and he smiles as he sets it back down.

"I know you can," he smiles, watching his face, hoping to find a little happiness there.

"What do you think?"

“The tea is good,” he tells him, pulling up the sleeve of his robe to eat the lentil pancake with his fingers. He remembers this part was tradition. “But this? This is excellent.”

He nods. "Good," he says, pleased to see him enjoying himself so much. "I'm so glad for it. Once you're finished, I'll take you on a proper walk of the grounds so you can see it in the morning light. We will...need to dress for the walk."

“Oh, not my heavy, cream-colored robes?”he teases, folding and tearing another piece of the lentil pancake single-handedly. “How long of a walk?”

"No, you will stick out and everyone will laugh at you," he smiles, ducking his head. "The walk is - oh, a good half day."

“Half a day!” Nie Huaisang groans loudly and starts to slump a little in his seat. He’s looking forward to going though, of course he is, especially as Min Pagan has been so surprising this entire trip.

He grumbles softly as he pulls himself off the chair. “Half a day. I should go find my good boots.”

"I've had clothes sent to your room," he chuckles. "You'll be much more comfortable in the attire of the people here. Robes and shoes included."

Oh? Local attire?

“If it’s anything as beautiful as the clothes you send me, I’ll be happy to change,” he says, face breaking out into a broad grin. “I’ll meet you at your throne room when I’m finished?”

"More so. Another sherwani with beautiful shoes. Ah. Finish your meal and then go. I want to see you in it."

He playfully shoos him as he slides off of the chair.

He does so quickly, taking a bite to go as he hurries off to his room in a run. He wants to see what Pagan got him, if it's half as lovely as the clothing he sent to him before. Of course it's much better, as promised - gorgeous, rich fabrics and buttery leather sandals. He pins his hair up on his head and dresses in the fine clothing, walking slowly through the halls to meet Pagan in the designated meeting spot.

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