[closed post -- training]

[onthewillowsthere]

The day after Evil Twin Magnus leaves, Galahad shows up for his training with Lan Wangji exactly as he always does (although later in the day, because Lan Wangji asked him to wait until afternoon to meet) -- if Lan Wangji were going solely on his appearance, he'd see absolutely nothing out of order. He throws himself into the sword forms with his usual focus. But he's gripping the hilt of his sword too tightly, and his movements are tense; he's never graceful, but today he's almost clumsy, and each failure or misstep only seems to pull him tighter, like an overwound watch.

Comments

[lightbearinglord]

Good. He would do that now, if asked, although perhaps less helpfully. Putting his hands in the soil would do nothing but make his hands dirty. Lan Wangji refills his own tea, then. "I took the other Galahad to see the rabbits."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Did he like them?"

[lightbearinglord]

The fresh tea steams a little again, the tea leaves suspended before they start to sink. "Yes. I think that he was not so powerfully sad while he held Danding."

[onthewillowsthere]

"There's a patron saint of rabbits. Melangell. She was Welsh. From the same country as Percival," Galahad says.

[lightbearinglord]

That's another little thing to hold onto, and he will. "Perhaps he was reminded of Percival. He thought that I might have been sent by his god."

[onthewillowsthere]

A very faint, brief smile. The idea is both understandable -- Lan Wangji is quiet and dignified, solemn and kind, with a voice that gives clear and simple instructions. Galahad can see how a version of himself, especially a version who is looking desperately for guidance, would find the idea of Lan Wangji a relief.

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji notices that tiny smile, of course, and commits the look of it to memory. He sips his tea, then sets it back down again. "You asked to train with me. You can ask to stop." He means it straightforwardly, with no particular implication. He enjoys teaching Galahad; he likes watching him learn and watching his strength grow. But Galahad is not a Lan disciple, and he has no obligation to keep down this path. If he can do only so much, as is true of every person, and he wants to fill his time with other things instead, he can.

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad blinks. "Why?"

[lightbearinglord]

"You're overwhelmed," Lan Wangji says. It's without judgment, either. "If you need to set this down, you can."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Thank you." He sips the fresh cup of tea slowly, thinking it over, rolling the grain of it around until all the chaff is loose and can be blown away. He is overwhelmed, but the time spent training with Lan Wangji has made him feel less helpless: being able to see the slow build of his strength and balance, the way he's become able to move his body in different ways. He's also grateful to spend so much time with Lan Wangji. He can remember the time when he was suspicious of him and his intentions, when he saw Lan Wangji only as a stranger who might try to affect his mind. The man he knows now is a friend and a teacher, someone he respects so much that finding out how they're alike gives Galahad pleasure and relief. He's someone to look up to, and a hope for Galahad's own future.

Galahad does feel somewhat unsettled still that Magnus is jealous of them, but things are better with him and Magnus now that they've talked about it. And Magnus can ask to spend time with them if he wants to. It's not Galahad's fault, or something he's done wrong.

"I don't want to stop," he says finally.

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji finds himself glad, even relieved. He feels the weight of this responsibility every day; Galahad is hardly a traditional cultivation disciple, and he is Magnus' brother and best friend, Claudius' beloved and his future husband. He wants to guide him well. It is a good weight, though, a pleasant one that reminds him of his own experience and endurance. "Then we will continue."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Thank you."

[lightbearinglord]

That earns Galahad an ephemeral smile from Lan Wangji in turn, there and then gone again. Typically, if he is not alone in this room, it is filled with the sounds of Wei Ying: talking, laughing, teasing, tapping his fingers as he thinks or flipping furiously through the pages of whatever he is reading. Sharing the quiet with Galahad has its own kind of appeal.

[onthewillowsthere]

For a while longer he drinks his tea, until the cup is almost empty. Then he asks, "Did you like Claudius while he was different?"

[lightbearinglord]

"I did." His voice is laced with subtle fondness. "He seemed wholly different at first, but he was unmistakable the moment he spoke."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Yes. He was Claudius."

[lightbearinglord]

"Mn. His stories were different, but he was still my friend."

[onthewillowsthere]

"What stories did he tell you?"

[lightbearinglord]

"Some of the history of his country, Ishgard. The story of a man he had loved and lost, and about a young man in his care." Upon finishing his own cup, he refills each of theirs one more time; there's just enough left in the teapot for that.

[onthewillowsthere]

"Will you tell me?"

[lightbearinglord]

"Not as well as Claudius told it," he warns Galahad.

[onthewillowsthere]

"I know. But I want to hear it."

[lightbearinglord]

As long as Galahad knows -- but he already would have, given their similarity. Lan Wangji nods, resettles himself where he sits, and takes his cup of tea in his hands anew. "Ishgard is an isolated country. It spent a thousand years at war, battling dragons. Claudius had left it behind."

[onthewillowsthere]

He smiles for a brief few seconds. It feels familiar already for Claudius to have left his warlike country for something else.

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji catches the smile, and without mirroring it, mirrors the sentiment. He takes a slow drink of his tea and assembles his memory of his walk with that other Claudius. "He had found steadfast companions and was known as the Warrior of Light." That title still comes near to snagging his face into a smile after all. "In a place called Ul'dah, he was accused of murder by poison." He meets Galahad's gaze there, well aware of the irony of that detail of the story.