[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

[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.

[onthewillowsthere]

"He had not poisoned anyone," Galahad says, understanding that Lan Wangji would not have lingered on that detail unless it were meaningful. If there is a King Hamlet in this story, he still lives.

[lightbearinglord]

"Not this time. He had been framed." He hesitates, if not for long. He can't help but be glad of this part of the story, as much as Claudius seemed to regret how beloved he was. He suspects Galahad will feel the same. "His companions came to his defense and secured his freedom."

[onthewillowsthere]

He has companions, who would defend him. Not like Elsinore, where he was abandoned in the face of the king's displeasure, judged not worth risking a place at court. Galahad feels a soft warmth steal through him. He nods.

[lightbearinglord]

There it is. Lan Wangji sips his tea again, warm with that, too, and continues. "His band of warriors came apart in the aftermath, but he saved a sixteen-year-old boy, Alphinaud. They went to Ishgard. Claudius had been determined never to return, but Alphinaud needed protection. They sought shelter with Haurchefant, a knight who welcomed them." This is a warming thought, too, though he knows how little Claudius wanted to cross Ishgard's borders at all.

[onthewillowsthere]

Again, he thinks that if Claudius had to go back -- to Elsinore, to Ishgard -- at least this time there was someone waiting to watch over him. He wasn't alone. It fits into what Galahad could feel from the man he met: there was a confidence and forthrightness that his Claudius doesn't have. His Claudius is shy and fearful, someone who can only protect himself with words and poisons.

[lightbearinglord]

The way that Claudius described Haurchefant, with an exasperation that could mean nothing but powerful fondness, will be impossible to capture in his own words. Lan Wangji pauses, then tries. "Haurchefant was loud," he says. He hears the echo of Claudius saying the same, his eloquent emphases, and wishes he could convey that, but his own voice is as low and calm as it ever is. "He was proud to have Claudius and Alphinaud in his home."

[onthewillowsthere]

But Galahad understands. In the same way that Claudius likes to complain about Laertes' impulsive nature, or Sagramore's unwillingness to stop talking -- complaining is something he likes doing. He complains differently about someone he hates than someone he loves, and loud is a loving complaint. Galahad can hear the inflection of the word exactly.

And Haurchefant was proud to know Claudius and to protect him. Galahad holds that pride in his chest like a cloudy marble, solid and perfectly spherical, cool glass. He wants Claudius to have been treasured and wanted, to have been important to someone, long before he came here. It's what he wants for his Claudius too. It matters that there is a Claudius who had it.

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji feels that understanding, instinct more than any evidence of his own eyes. "Any sympathy or communication with dragons was heresy in Ishgard." If he ever rolled his eyes, he might do so here. "Claudius was receiving visits from a dragon visible to no one else. The reincarnation of Midgardsormr, who fathered the first dragons on his world."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Was he afraid?" Of being found out, of being thought mad, of any danger -- although Galahad thinks Claudius would have denied fear until it no longer mattered.