openmisc | Pagan/Huaisang

"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.

Pagan meets him there, his hands folded in front of him, dressed elegantly in black and gold.

"Ah! You look wonderful," he says.

He doesn't say anything about the hesitation in his voice. He doesn't say anything about how his heart gives a half-stop at the sight of him.

He isn't wonderful; he's exquisite.

Pagan looks every bit a grand sect leader in this new outfit, gold embroidery and finely-tailored cloth making him appear powerful and graceful. Nie Huaisang stops mid-step to stare at him, mouth dropping open slightly as he looks him up and down.

“That suits you,” he tells him honestly. Far better than the robes ever did, if he was being honest.

Nie Huaisang looks down at himself, his own outfit, and smiles to himself at the compliment. Min Pagan is sincere, of course; he doesn’t play mind games.

“Shall we go?”

"Walk with me."

He leads him towards a path along the outside of the palace. There's a small building that seems newly built, at least comparatively. Pagan says nothing about it as they pass.

"There is where we can see the entire valley. Are you up for the walk?" he asks, pointing towards the topmost point of the mountain.

For the moment Nie Huaisang doesn't say anything about the little building, but he recognizes a shrine when he sees one. He bows his head as he passes and then raises it back up when they're on the path proper, looking at the very high mountain with a bit of a smile.

"I think I can handle that walk," he says, hand sneaking into his pocket and pulling out a treat he may-or-may-not have snuck from the Min kitchen. "You'll carry me when I'm tired, right?"

"I certainly will not. But these mountains do not grow too cold. I'm sure you'll sleep just fine."

He smiles to himself as he walks, pointing out the various flowers and animals they find. "Monkeys," he mutters, pointing to a chattering tree.

“That doesn’t mean they don’t grow cold at all,” he whines, though he is momentarily distracted by the monkeys. Or at least allows himself to look distracted, when in reality he’s thinking about how Min Pagan might keep him warm throughout their walk.

“Monkeys common?”

"Very. If you're not careful, they'll throw rotten fruit at you," he says with a smirk. "Ishwari taught me how to avoid them, but it's a secret I will take to my grave."

He puts a hand on Huaisang's shoulder and continues on the trail, up and up and up.

That's the second time he's mentioned his late wife. He can guess that it's the location - he's home, and is closest to the ghosts of his happy family here.

He likes when he talks about her. There's something about him that's so much less guarded.

"That was kind of her," he says, stretching his legs as far as they would allow for being so short. "It's only so funny, I can imagine."

"It is! But - " He holds up a finger, darting off of the path and returning with a mango, offering it to Huaisang.

"Ah, it is only amusing when it happens to other people."

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