( What is it about those words? Thank you, or I'm sorry? His mind skitters around them as his pulse calms, as the distance stretches and the bone hounds don't lurch out of the shadows of this tomb of a household, as he breathes, as breath steadies, as he's not the shadow of his own fears. Where he can almost laugh, not for the thank you, but for the dungeon. The indoctrination. His half laugh, half inhalation, and the confession that is part of what he doesn't want people to know, or see, but he called her sister, and what is it that means, what does it mean, but to crack open parts of the ugliness and vulnerability to share?
Jiang Yanli taught him many things. Every so often, he manages to not only remember, but see a way to acting on them, in some small or larger way. )
Wen Ning handled that creature. Before it handled me.
( So small, that cell with the massive wolf, or dog, or whatever it was, slavering and growling and chained on the opposite wall, but with too much reach. It had found his flesh, it had scored and bit and salivated over him. Wen Ning had won more of Wei Wuxian's regard for the simple, complicated kindness of sneaking in and putting the beast to rest for the time being. The Wens, by and large, left ignorant to a truth that would have been wielded as brutally as the knives that stole Lotus Pier from all of them, that slaughtered the Jiang Clan as if it were a due extracted from the world for failing to bow before greatness, when it was a cost of refusing to bow before depravity and festering ills.
There are days he remembers, and times he forgets. If she hadn't mentioned it, Wei Wuxian would have gladly left that dungeon forgotten for another lifetime, abandoned to the haze of unpleasant moments buried in his past. )
They like my playing. ( Another confession, another drop in his voice to a tone just shy of murmuring. To a grimace he doesn't disguise. ) Not because I'm coaxing them to anything, shijie, they just like it.
( Thus is his primary weapon against the dead turned against him in a way that's laughable, even as he rubs at his face, lets his grimace turn into a wry grin, or the shadow of one. )
Jiang Cheng's been yelling about it at me lately. How I should be beyond it.
( Jiang Cheng with the shepherd's dog from his arrival, back in the snows of Sa-Hareth; Jiang Cheng who rescues puppies, who had managed to hold no dog close since the arrival of Wei Wuxian at his doorstep and the fear that drove the same child into the dark and up trees, until Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng alike found him, brought him home. He doesn't know when that faith broke, not really. When his brother decided he would no longer tolerate a fear, and instead...
Wei Wuxian turns his thoughts aside. It's neither here nor there. He's well familiar with failing those he cares for. He's well familiar with not being enough. )
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Jiang Yanli taught him many things. Every so often, he manages to not only remember, but see a way to acting on them, in some small or larger way. )
Wen Ning handled that creature. Before it handled me.
( So small, that cell with the massive wolf, or dog, or whatever it was, slavering and growling and chained on the opposite wall, but with too much reach. It had found his flesh, it had scored and bit and salivated over him. Wen Ning had won more of Wei Wuxian's regard for the simple, complicated kindness of sneaking in and putting the beast to rest for the time being. The Wens, by and large, left ignorant to a truth that would have been wielded as brutally as the knives that stole Lotus Pier from all of them, that slaughtered the Jiang Clan as if it were a due extracted from the world for failing to bow before greatness, when it was a cost of refusing to bow before depravity and festering ills.
There are days he remembers, and times he forgets. If she hadn't mentioned it, Wei Wuxian would have gladly left that dungeon forgotten for another lifetime, abandoned to the haze of unpleasant moments buried in his past. )
They like my playing. ( Another confession, another drop in his voice to a tone just shy of murmuring. To a grimace he doesn't disguise. ) Not because I'm coaxing them to anything, shijie, they just like it.
( Thus is his primary weapon against the dead turned against him in a way that's laughable, even as he rubs at his face, lets his grimace turn into a wry grin, or the shadow of one. )
Jiang Cheng's been yelling about it at me lately. How I should be beyond it.
( Jiang Cheng with the shepherd's dog from his arrival, back in the snows of Sa-Hareth; Jiang Cheng who rescues puppies, who had managed to hold no dog close since the arrival of Wei Wuxian at his doorstep and the fear that drove the same child into the dark and up trees, until Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng alike found him, brought him home. He doesn't know when that faith broke, not really. When his brother decided he would no longer tolerate a fear, and instead...
Wei Wuxian turns his thoughts aside. It's neither here nor there. He's well familiar with failing those he cares for. He's well familiar with not being enough. )
You're sure none of them looked likely to attack?