Blood on the Altar (HuaLian TGCF)

Chapter 12

San Lang spends the day at Xie Lian's side, bringing him food and showing him around the manor, talking with him and trying to coax a rare smile out of him. It's strange, having someone who's so clearly interested in everything he has to say, who seems to want nothing from him except a smile. Xie Lian knows he shouldn't get used to it, that his Wu Ming has grown into a great and powerful lord who must have much more important things to do then entertain his fallen god, but just for this moment it feels ...Nice. How many decades has it been since he last had someone who wanted to listen to him talk? How many centuries? He's honestly not sure. He knows it can't last, not San Lang's attention and not his affection, but just for the moment, he can't help admitting to himself that yes, it /is/ nice.

That afternoon San Lang says he has a surprise for Xie Lian and shows him to a set of doors behind which the god can feel killing intent. It sets him on edge but he reminds himself that this is Wu Ming, that even if he wanted to hurt Xie Lian he would be justified and so when the Ghost King tells him to close his eyes he does so. When he opens them again all tension drops from his shoulders and for a few precious hours the shadows in his mind clear, replaced by delight as he explores the ghost king's armory.

It's night when the shadows return and Xie Lian wakes, shaking and damp with sweat, hands clawing at his cloths, certain that they're the only thing that's holding the broken mass of bone and organs inside his body. Cool hands reach for him through the darkness and he slaps them away.

"Stop! Don't touch me!"

"Your highness, you're safe. No one here will hurt you."

The words are gentle and they reach Xie Lian just as he finally succeeds in pulling his robes open and he feels his own chest, whole and unmarked, beneath his hands.

"I don't..." His voice is shaking and his breath comes raggedly as he tries to orient himself, his hands moving up his body until he finds the chain against his skin and above it the comforting imperfection of his scars.

"Breath, Gege, just breath. It will be alright."

Xie Lian's shoulders relax as the voice finally locks into place in his mind.

"San Lang?"

"I'm here."

Slowly the darkness gives way as the bedroom fills with soft silver light and Xie Lian relaxes more, awe replacing fear as beautiful silver butterflies rise all around them. As he watches them dart and dance and form patterns in the air his breathing eases and his heart rate begins to calm. At last Xie Lian's eyes drop from the butterflies above him to the ghost king sitting at his side in the desk chair which is once again next to Xie Lian's bed.

"San Lang, what are you doing here?" The question is curious rather than accusatory. Now that Xie Lian thinks about it, he should have asked it when he woke the day before with the ghost's hand in his, but he had been so distracted at the time by his own conflicted thoughts and San Lang's revelations that it never occurred to him to do so.

The ghost king's face turns slightly sheepish. "I apologize for the intrusion but I thought you might have more nightmares. I didn't want you to wake up alone."

"Oh..."

Xie Lian says it softly, an odd warm feeling constricting his chest. How long has it been since he's had someone who would even think of something like that let alone try to help him through it?

...Not since Wu Ming's 'death.'

"May I?"

The question pulls Xie Lian out of his thoughts before he can fall too deep into them. San Lang's hand is extended but he's not touching Xie Lian and even the act of asking first, small as it is, makes Xie Lian feel warm. He nods and San Lang takes one of Xie Lian's hands in his, twining their fingers together and squeezing lightly.