( There are moments, he supposes, when his devotion is so obvious and plain that it may yet be writ on his cheek with dark brush strokes, bruising the complexion of pride. Wei Ying. It comes to him — and 'his own life.'
He watches Wrath breathe and be and fill a room, and he understands more vividly than ever the stark difference between them: Wrath is majestic, unwavering, inescapable. The eye is drawn. He occupies all attention. Lan Wangji, meanwhile, recedes into himself, like thorns in flesh. Barely rasps: )
Perhaps not at this price. ( He has not spoken it. They both know, it will not be simple. ) A long life was his, first. Sacrificed for a brother, without knowledge or permission.
( Would this be so different, then? Worse than comeuppance? )
...I speak to excess. ( And wade in a troubled sea to cross at another time, when his mind is no longer so muddied. No, the precepts of Gusu Lan disagree with so much... chatter. ) The witch. Let us think of her. Her complicity with Matthias.
no subject
( There are moments, he supposes, when his devotion is so obvious and plain that it may yet be writ on his cheek with dark brush strokes, bruising the complexion of pride. Wei Ying. It comes to him — and 'his own life.'
He watches Wrath breathe and be and fill a room, and he understands more vividly than ever the stark difference between them: Wrath is majestic, unwavering, inescapable. The eye is drawn. He occupies all attention. Lan Wangji, meanwhile, recedes into himself, like thorns in flesh. Barely rasps: )
Perhaps not at this price. ( He has not spoken it. They both know, it will not be simple. ) A long life was his, first. Sacrificed for a brother, without knowledge or permission.
( Would this be so different, then? Worse than comeuppance? )
...I speak to excess. ( And wade in a troubled sea to cross at another time, when his mind is no longer so muddied. No, the precepts of Gusu Lan disagree with so much... chatter. ) The witch. Let us think of her. Her complicity with Matthias.