Chapter Text
A-Yuan’s Baba was magic.
Not real magic, not like fairytales and sun reflecting glass, but the kind of magic good people can be. Baba’s smile was the widest A-Yuan had ever seen, and his laughter could bring the sun out on even the rainiest of days.
On days when A-Yuan was sad, or hungry, or tired, he could count on Baba to keep him safe, keep him warm. A-Yuan couldn’t have the fancy dolls and kites he’d seen other kids play with, but Baba carved him little wooden animals like rabbits or cats, and folded him paper butterflies that took flight between his clever hands.
A-Yuan loved his Baba more than the world, more than anything. More than the frogs in the creek or the silly donkey they kept to take them back and forth from their little farm to the market.
One day, a loud man came and took Baba into his arms. They were shaking, both of them. A-Yuan didn’t know why. When he asked Ning-gege, the older man had just smiled kindly and said they needed to pack their things, because it was time to go home.
Home. A-Yuan already had a home here, with Ning-gege and Qing-jiejie and Baba and the donkey and the frogs. He didn’t understand.
“To your Baba’s home,” Ning-gege corrected shyly. “Lotus Pier.”
“This is Baba’s home,” A-Yuan said. “Are you coming?”
Ning-gege smiled and nodded.
A-Yuan thought very hard about this. “Qing-jiejie?”
“Yes.”
“And Baba?”
Ning-gege pulled A-Yuan into his chest for one of his best warm hugs. “A-Yuan, your Baba would never leave you, don’t you know that?”
A-Yuan did know this, so he nodded against Ning-gege’s chest. “Xiao Pingguo?”
“Absolutely not.”
It was the loud man, standing over where they sat on the porch of their little house. He was so tall, and his face was twisted into a scowl A-Yuan had only seen on Qing-jiejie’s face before. A-Yuan scowled back and buried his face against Ning-gege.
Baba laughed somewhere close by, and then he was pulling A-Yuan up and into his arms. “Look at you, my little radish! Already picking a fight with your Shushu, and you haven’t even been introduced! Don’t worry, A-Yuan, he has that effect on people.”
The loud man - A-Yuan’s Shushu, he supposed - turned red. “You-!”
Baba laughed some more, and A-Yuan pressed a smile into his neck.
This was A-Yuan’s first home. Fields of grass and wildflowers surrounded it, under a sky so big it felt like they were the only ones in the world. Perhaps that was why Baba seemed sad sometimes, even when he smiled so wide.
They drove away in a carriage so fine that A-Yuan was scared to dirty it. They drove away with Baba playing his dizi and Xiao Pingguo following behind.
-
A-Yuan’s second home was on the water.
It was the most beautiful place A-Yuan had ever seen, made even more so by the way Baba stretched out and glowed.
He seemed even bigger here, his laughter bright and loud enough to scare away the birds that liked to hover and bob above the lotus leaves. He taught A-Yuan how to swim in the warm lakes and how to fly a beautiful kite that A-Yuan had only dreamt of holding before. Guma cooked all different kinds of good food when she visited, and Shushu chased him up and down the piers, shouting about bad kids and breaking legs and all other sorts of nonsense that made A-Yuan giggle and run faster.
When A-Ling came, he was a tiny thing. He was so loud, even louder than Shushu, and when he cried he went all red and squirming like a worm. A-Yuan preferred to hide in Baba’s skirts when this happened, even when Baba clucked at him and made him greet his cousin. When A-Ling stopped his wailing, he wrapped a chubby hand around A-Yuan’s finger, and A-Yuan supposed he would make a good little cousin.
A-Yuan had lived in his new home for an entire year when, just after his fifth birthday, Lotus Pier transformed into a palace of red and silver. Shushu and Qing-jiejie were wearing red and silver robes to match, and then bowed to each other in front of more people than A-Yuan had ever seen. He’d taken to huddling close to Baba’s legs these days, unused to the chaos and noise that had erupted in the weeks leading up to the festivities. A-Yuan didn’t understand what was going on, and Baba had laughed when he asked him.
“Married,” Baba said fondly, and pinched A-Yuan’s cheek. “Your Qing-jie and Shushu got married. That means we’re all really family now.”
A-Yuan frowned, for he thought they already were one. “Why did they get married?”
“Because they love each other.”
“I love Baba, do we get married?”
Baba cooed and pulled A-Yuan close. “Ahhh, you’re too sweet, too sweet! My little radish, I love you too! So much! Too cute! But no, baobei, not that kind of love. I love you because you are my son. Shushu and Qing-jie love each other like Guma and Gufu do, like husbands and wives do.”
“Guma and Gufu don’t live here,” A-Yuan said. “Does that mean Shushu and Qing-jiejie will have to leave home, too?”
“Ahh, no,” Baba shushed. “They’re not going anywhere. This is home, baobei. Guma and Gufu live at Koi Tower because Gufu is like Shushu, he has to take care of his people just like Shushu has to take care of the people of Yunmeng. Do you understand?”
A-Yuan didn’t think he did, but he let it go. “Will Baba get married?”
Something changed in Baba’s expression, a little twist of his lips, almost like a pout. There was a bit of red on the tops of his cheeks. “A-Yuan! How can you ask such things of your father, of course not, how could I ever need anything but you?”
A-Yuan, very used to his father’s dramatics, simply patted Baba’s cheek. “You can get married, Baba, if you love someone like married people do.”
“Ah,” Baba stuttered, “A-Yuan-”
“It’s okay,” A-Yuan insisted. “You can bring them here, and they can be home with us.”
-
It took almost another year before the talk of marriage came around again, and this time, like A-Yuan had wanted, it was from Baba.
It was a quiet night. Guma and A-Ling had retired for the night, weary from their travels. They visited often, so that they could all be together as a family, even when Gufu was too busy taking care of his people to come with them. A-Yuan sat between Baba and Shushu, three sets of legs dangling off the pier. It was almost too cold for this, and Baba had insisted on wrapping A-Yuan up in a thick quilt, but they all loved to watch the night sky dance above them, even as the wind ran icy fingers across their cheeks and toes.
“This will be a long trip,” Shushu said quietly, in a way he rarely was during the light of day. “I don’t mean to-”
“It’s fine,” Baba said, cheerful though subdued. He had one arm wrapped tightly around A-Yuan, his other hand running his fingers through A-Yuan’s hair. “Got to earn my keep somehow, right?”
Shushu made an annoyed sound. “Don’t be stupid.”
Baba hummed, and the sound rumbled in his chest. A-Yuan could feel it, from the way they were pressed together.
Sometimes, Baba had to go away. A-Yuan knew that Baba helped Shushu with his business, with taking care of his people and other people across the land. Sometimes it was only for a day, or several. Sometimes, longer. This time would be the longest yet - weeks away from home. When Baba had told A-Yuan, they had both cried a little. A-Yuan had never been away from Baba so long, not that he could remember. Baba had insisted that Shushu and Qing-jiejie and Ning-gege would take good care of him, but A-Yuan didn’t want his Baba to go.
After a long time of quiet, Shushu crossed his arms. “You’ll be passing through Caiyi.”
Baba stilled. “Jiang Cheng.”
Shushu looked away. “You could-”
“Please,” Baba said, and A-Yuan looked up quickly to find a pained expression on his face. “I already said-”
“I know what you said,” Shushu snapped. A-Yuan’s gaze rocked back and forth between the two men, like watching a game of catch. “But…well, I just. Things are different…now.”
“What’s Caiyi?” A-Yuan asked.
Shushu looked down at him and made a face, almost like he’d forgotten A-Yuan was there. “Caiyi is a city. It’s where the royal palace is, where the King lives.”
“Jiang Cheng-”
“Have you been there, Baba?” A-Yuan asked.
“Don’t interrupt your father,” Shushu snapped. “And oh yes he has.”
“Aaaand it’s time for little radishes to be in bed,” Baba sang and stood up, swinging A-Yuan up onto his hip even though he was getting much too big to be carried. “Come along, darling, say goodnight to your Shushu, big morning ahead of us, let’s go, let’s go.”
“Idiot,” Shushu said, though he didn’t sound as angry as he usually did. “I’m trying to give you my blessing.”
Baba was shaking under him. “Jiang Cheng-”
“Do I have to repeat myself?” Shushu shouted, startling a crane that was curled up in sleep. “If you don’t come back with a husband, don’t come back at all!”
Now A-Yuan was startled, and Baba was glaring. “Good night, Jiang Cheng.”
Baba rushed away, A-Yuan still in his arms. He didn’t stop until he was in the room they shared, and he grumbled under his breath the entire way about meddling little brothers and ridiculous notions and something about a jade statue. A-Yuan was just as confused as he had been minutes ago, but couldn’t bring himself to speak. Not as Baba undressed him, not as Baba combed his hair, not even as Baba tucked him into bed and crawled in beside him.
A-Yuan rolled over and pushed his face into Baba’s neck. “Baba, are you married?”
Baba huffed out a laugh. “No, radish.”
“Shushu said-”
“Shushu doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Baba muttered, then sighed. “A-Yuan.”
“Mm?”
Baba’s breath hitched. “A-Yuan.”
“Baba?”
“Last year, when Shushu and Qing-jie got married, you told me I could too,” Baba said, so soft A-Yuan could barely hear. “You told me to bring them here, and we could be home.”
A-Yuan didn’t remember that time much, it seemed so long ago, but he nodded. He trusted that Baba remembered, even though he sometimes forgot silly things.
“What if…” Baba took so long to speak, A-Yuan wondered if he’d fallen asleep. “What if I was married, and we went there instead? What if home was somewhere else, because that’s where my husband is?”
“Like Guma and Gufu?”
“Just like that.”
A-Yuan considered this. Lotus Pier had been home for so long now, he barely remembered before. Mostly what he knew were stories from Ning-gege, funny things and soft things that he stored close to his chest to keep him warm. Lotus Pier was all around him, all the time. He didn’t need stories, or memories, because he made them every day he woke up. He loved the docks, the fish, and all his family together happy and laughing in the heat of Yunmeng. He loved chasing dragonflies and playing in the mud, even when the nursemaids scolded him. He loved Baba’s magic smile when he looked out over the water to the sunsets that seemed to last hours, brilliant red and orange and pink washed across the sky.
He loved Baba. Baba was magic, though the real kind. Baba should have a husband too.
“Yes,” A-Yuan said, and was then immediately crushed into Baba’s embrace. “Okay. I’d like a wedding.”
“Okay,” Baba repeated, and then laughed. It sounded a little wet. “Okay, we can have that. We can have this, baobei, we can have this.”
-
In the morning, Baba left after a million kisses and hugs, and even more tears on both of their parts. Shushu thundered and snapped and threatened, Guma laughed and fussed, and A-Ling wailed.
With a wink and a grin, Baba was gone, leaving behind the promise of his return.
-
And return, he did.
When he’d left, it was on the back of one of Shushu’s prized stallions, a horse so tall and proud that A-Yuan had always been a little afraid of it, even when Baba insisted that it was as kind as his Guma. He’d trotted off into the fields, a sole rider getting smaller and smaller until he’d faded into the distance completely.
When he returned, it was with the fanfare of a parade.
He was carried by a caravan and escorted by a small army of guards and servants, bringing with him crates and crates of treasure. A-Yuan had never seen so many beautiful things before. He had never seen his Baba look so happy before.
“I can’t stop crying, Shijie,” he laughed into Guma’s hair, and indeed, tears were streaming down his cheeks. A-Yuan was standing next to Shushu, waiting patiently for his turn to greet his father. Baba was like a hurricane, unable to be still in his excitement, his robes swirling around his feet and tripping him up. He was wrapped in an outer robe A-Yuan had never seen before, one of fine material in a swirling pattern that reminded him of clouds. It didn’t fit him right, too big at the shoulders and dragging slightly in the dirt. Wrapped around Baba’s wrist was a ribbon, starkly white against the midnight blue of his sleeve. He was laughing and crying, and A-Yuan still thought he was magic.
“A-Yuan,” Baba gasped, and dropped to his knees in front of him. “A-Yuan, A-Yuan, you good boy, you precious boy, I am so happy, baobei.”
A-Yuan giggled and threw himself into his father’s arms. “Baba. Baba.”
“How about it,” Baba whispered into his ear. “A-Yuan, how about it? I’m going to take you home, alright? I’ve found you a second father, is that okay?”
A-Yuan pulled back in confusion. “A second father?”
Baba smiled so wide it must hurt. “ Yes, baobei. My husband. My husband, ” he repeated, like he couldn’t believe it.
A-Yuan gasped. “A husband!”
Baba laughed until he was crying again.
“Is he trying to compensate for something,” Shushu sniffed, looking around at all the crates being carried into Lotus Pier. “Really, isn’t it excessive? And who does this Hanguang-jun think he is, not escorting you himself?”
Guma shushed him, while patting the top of Baba’s head, who was sobbing into her skirts. “You know well why Wangji couldn’t come, A-Cheng.”
Shushu scoffed. “Ridiculous. Wei Wuxian! Stop blubbering, get off the ground, you’ll dirty that fancy new robe of yours. Is this how you behave in front of the King? Get up, get up! Oh don’t touch me, get away from me, go-”
-
They rested in Lotus Pier for the night. Baba said the trip to Caiyi was long, and his back ached, and he needed a good night’s sleep in a proper bed before another trip so daunting.
“Besides,” Baba said with a gleeful look in his eye that A-Yuan was wary of, though it was aimed purely at Shushu. “It’s not like I’ll be getting much sleep once we get there.”
A-Yuan frowned. It was important for Baba to get good sleep. He hoped their new home wouldn’t prevent this. He frowned even deeper when Shushu turned an impressive shade of purple and shoved Baba into the lake.
-
Qing-jie met them the next morning, having just returned from assisting a nearby village that had suffered an earthquake. Both of the Wen siblings would escort them to Caiyi, where Qing-jie would give a report to the King on her experience there.
All of their things were packed carefully into trunks and stored away into the caravan and carts that had brought Baba back to Lotus Pier. Their departure brought yet again more tears from both A-Yuan and Baba, even as Guma shushed their cries and promised to visit soon. Shushu was gruff in his well wishes, though A-Yuan thought the hug he gave him was extra tight.
Baba barked out a laugh as he scrubbed away his own tears roughly. “Ah, what will Lan Zhan think, seeing us like this? We’re a mess, the two of us. Come here, baobei, that’s it, settle down.”
“Hanguang-jun is a good man, A-Xian,” Guma soothed, “this isn’t goodbye forever. He’d never let it be.”
Baba pressed a kiss to A-Yuan’s temple. A-Yuan, as always, felt safer in Baba’s arms than anywhere else, even with his home slipping from between his fingers. “Lan Zhan is the best man in the world, Shijie.”
“That’s right,” Guma agreed. She looked to A-Yuan, who blinked at her slowly. His head hurt a little from crying, and he wanted to sleep, but he had to hear what Guma had to say to him. “A-Yuan, my darling, I will visit you just as much in Caiyi as I do now, I promise.”
“I don’t want to leave,” A-Yuan sniffed.
Baba made a little hurt noise.
Qing-jie swept in next to Guma. “A-Yuan,” she said, stern and soft at once. “Do you know what makes a home?”
A-Yuan shook his head against Baba’s chest.
“It’s not the walls, or the floors,” she said. “It’s not the beams or the roof. I lived somewhere else once, it was called Qishan. It wasn’t home, though, because of a very important reason. The people there didn’t love me. They didn’t love A-Ning. That’s what makes somewhere a home. A-Yuan, in Caiyi, your Baba will love you, and do you know who his husband is?”
Somewhere behind them, Shushu snorted. They all ignored him.
“My husband is Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji,” Baba whispered to him. “He’s your A-Die, and he loves you so much already. How lucky are you, to have two homes where people love you so much?”
A-Yuan thought he must be very lucky indeed, and said so. He twisted his fingers into Baba’s hair, anyway.
-
On the eve of the second day of their trip, one that would last several more, A-Yuan found himself unable to sleep. Night had fallen, and gentle sounds of hoofbeats and the wheels of the caravan over the dirt road were for once too quiet. Qing-jie and Ning-gege were walking next to the carriage, stretching their legs in the cooling air.
Baba’s arms tightened around him. “A-Yuan?”
“Baba,” A-Yuan said.
Baba’s lips pressed against A-Yuan’s forehead. “Why is my radish still awake? Growing boys need their rest.”
“Baba,” A-Yuan said again.
A breath of air passed over A-Yuan’s face, and then a chuckle. “Alright, how about this, then?”
A-Yuan’s father laid him out over the bench, carefully tucking a blanket securely around him. Then, he reached into his wide sleeve and pulled out a long, dark stick of bamboo that A-Yuan recognized immediately. His eyes widened.
Baba didn’t play his dizi much these days. He said it tired him, or bored him, but A-Yuan could remember the beautiful way his Baba’s fingers would dance over the instrument, how the notes could sound light or shrill depending on the quirk of his lips, the push and pull of his breath.
Tonight, a familiar, soft tune floated into the air, instantly soothing A-Yuan and putting him under a spell of peace and warmth. His oldest lullaby, another bit of Baba’s magic.
“Wei Wuxian.”
That was Qing-jie, from outside. Her voice was low, a warning. A-Yuan was too tired now to understand why.
Baba chuckled as he lowered the dizi from his lips. “Can’t I soothe my son to sleep, Jiang-furen?”
Qing-jie said something back, but A-Yuan couldn’t hear it. He was already too far asleep for that.
-
When he woke again, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Something felt…wrong.
He whimpered, reaching for his Baba’s sleeve, his hand, a strand of his hair. There was nothing.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes with a whine, and startled when a hand pressed over his mouth.
Qing-jie’s face swam in front of his face. “Quiet,” she said, just as low as before.
A-Yuan wanted to ask why? He liked to ask why, liked to understand the reasons behind rules and the way things were. It was like a game, he would ask why over and over, until the adults ran out of answers. Baba liked the game too, especially when he would join in and send Shushu into fits.
A-Yuan didn’t ask why, now. Qing-jie’s face was frightfully pale, her lips set into a tight line, her eyes huge.
Then, from outside the caravan, a shriek.
A-Yuan startled, and let out a cry. Qing-jie winced and pulled A-Yuan into her arms. A-Yuan clung to her. Qing-jie was much smaller than Baba, but she was safe and home just like him, even though the skin of her throat was freezing when A-Yuan pressed his face into it.
Qing-jie was shaking. Qing-jie never shook.
Then, the clash of steel on steel.
A-Yuan knew that sound, knew it from the training grounds where Baba and Shushu would practice their forms and spar, each one trying to outdo the other in terms of speed and style. Baba often won.
Then, a roar.
A-Yuan cried loudly as the ground shook around them, as the air burned hot and an acrid taste burnt his throat and lungs. Some force hit the carriage and sent it teetering sideways. He tumbled out of Qing-jie’s arms as she let out a shout, and A-Yuan was scared, he wanted his Baba-
An ear-splitting note cut through the air, shattering the roar of flames of quaking of the earth. It was so shrill, so loud, that A-Yuan’s eyes watered. He tried reaching for Qing-jie, but she wasn’t moving, her eyes closed. Something dark was leaking down the side of her face, but A-Yuan couldn’t see what it was in the shadows.
Just as suddenly as the note had started, it cut off, leaving the world feeling achingly silent. The earth stilled, the air softened, and A-Yuan cried.
He climbed over Qing-jie and nearly fell out of the carriage door, but steadied himself before he could hit the ground. Outside, the world looked like it had been torn apart. Deep cracks split the earth, and fire blazed the forest all around. The carts were strewn across the road, torn into pieces, and among them, the guards that had been sent to escort them.
Ning-gege was gone. Baba was gone.
-
He was hungry; he was tired. He was so cold, and then so hot. He tucked himself closer against Qing-jie’s side, listening to the rasp of her breath, her little moans of pain. He squeezed his eyes tight.
-
He’d soiled himself. Shushu would be mad. Baba would tut and scold, but he would still wash him and hold him. Qing-jie was still asleep.
-
He was so thirsty.
-
He came to as the sound of hoofbeats echoed around him, startling him from his disturbed sleep. Men called to each other, called for Baba, called for Qing-jie. He wanted to call back, but his throat was closed shut, his mind a haze.
Hands reached through the door to the carriage, and A-Yuan had the presence of mind to shrink back, to make himself small, to make himself unseen. The hands pushed aside the curtain, and A-Yuan saw trailing white sleeves, a spill of hair darker even than Baba’s.
“Jiang-furen,” the figure said, voice hoarse and broken. “Jiang-furen.”
When Qing-jie did not respond, the figure climbed further into the carriage.
It was a man, larger than Baba, with a sharp jaw and glowing, golden eyes. His skin was nearly as pale as his robes, but was marred by soot and dirt. There was red on his hands, staining the edges of his beautiful, gaping sleeves.
“Jiang-furen,” the man repeated, and reached out a hand to grab her wrist, “are you-”
He cut off with a choke when his eyes met A-Yuan’s.
They stared at each other, A-Yuan’s heart beating loud in his ears. The man’s eyes widened, and then his face did something funny, like it twisted. A-Yuan couldn’t be sure, he thought he might be falling asleep once more.
The man leaned forward, taking Qing-jie’s wrist, though he never broke A-Yuan’s gaze. “Yuan?” The man asked, and there was something horrible in his tone that made A-Yuan think of his Baba’s nightmares. A-Yuan wanted to fall away, go back to sleep, and go back to Lotus Pier to the frogs and the dragonflies and his Baba’s magic laugh.
“Baba,” A-Yuan croaked. “Baba.”
The man inhaled sharply, then crumpled, bending in half like something had struck him from behind. He didn’t move until someone else approached the carriage with a shout.
“Wangji!”
It was another man, this one even larger than the one with golden eyes. He carried a massive blade across his back, blunted off at the end. When he saw inside the carriage, he gasped.
“Wangji, move back. Is she-”
“Alive,” the golden-eyed man whispered. “Alive.”
The other man forced his way into the carriage, which at this point was feeling overly crowded. Both men stilled when A-Yuan whimpered, though the second man shook himself and took Qing-jie’s wrist from the first. The carriage lit up with a warm light as spiritual energy flowed between them, like A-Yuan had seen Qing-jie do more times than he could count.
“Wangji,” the second man said. “Is this-”
The golden-eyed man ignored him, turning his eyes once more to A-Yuan. “Yuan,” he said, and reached out a hand. It was trembling, but sure. “Come.”
A-Yuan huddled closer to Qing-jie, who was stirring.
The man inhaled deeply, though A-Yuan could hear the breath stutter in his chest. “A-Yuan, come. Are you hurt?”
“Where is Baba?” A-Yuan whispered.
A-Yuan saw the shift of the muscles in the man’s jaw as he gritted his teeth. His eyes shone, red around the edges. “I don’t know.”
A-Yuan let out a little sob. “Are you my A-Die?”
The second man, the one tending to Qing-jie, turned to watch the first man - Wangji, A-Die. His brows furrowed, low over his eyes.
When Wangji spoke, his words were wet. “Yes, A-Yuan. Come to me.”
Careful not to disturb Qing-jie, who was panting as her eyes blinked open slowly, A-Yuan crossed the tight space to where his A-Die knelt, hands braced on his knees. Slowly, as though approaching one of the birds that liked to rest among the lotus leaves on the still lakes of Lotus Pier, A-Yuan closed the distance between them. He caught his A-Die’s gaze, gold and warm and shattered.
“Where is Baba?”
A-Die looked at him and then shook his head.
A-Yuan leapt forward and collapsed into his arms.
-
A-Yuan’s third home was among the clouds.
He slept in A-Die’s bed, freshly bathed and belly full of hot food and cool drink. A-Die sat next to him as he dozed, his long fingers carding through his hair. He’d cried himself to sleep, despite the creature comforts he’d been treated to, calling out for his Baba as his A-Die shook next to him, both their cheeks wet.
Qing-jie was still in the infirmary. She’d been there for nearly a full day, and A-Yuan had only been permitted to see her briefly before he’d been whisked away to be cleaned and cared for himself.
A-Die had stayed with him, always.
As he dozed, he heard soft footsteps approaching. The fingers in his hair did not stop their slow motions.
“Didi,” a gentle voice said.
“Xiongzhang,” A-Die whispered.
“How are you?”
A-Die’s fingers twitched in A-Yuan’s hair, but he said nothing.
“What can I…” the gentle voice began, then hesitated. “How can I…”
A-Die was quiet for a long time, and A-Yuan nearly drifted back away, but then his voice brought him back. “The child.”
“Yes. He is well, I am told, all things considered.”
“If I had been any later…”
The swish of robes, and then the bed shifted as another sat down. “This is not your fault, Didi.”
Finally, this made A-Die’s fingers still. “If not mine, whose?”
“You could not know-”
“I was not with him.” A-Die’s voice was flat, devoid of both the soothing calm he had projected to A-Yuan as he bathed him and the uneven hoarseness that had called to A-Yuan in the carriage. “I was not by his side.”
The other voice did not respond.
A-Die’s breath picked up, and A-Yuan struggled to hold his own tears back. “What am I…what am I supposed to do, Xiongshang? What am I supposed to do?”
-
A-Yuan pressed his face roughly against the side of A-Die’s hip, his arms wrapped tight around his leg. A-Die’s fingers were laced into his hair, a comforting weight on the top of his head.
Shushu was still, silent for the first time in A-Yuan’s memory. Guma was crying.
“He can’t be,” Guma sobbed, “he can’t be, he can’t, he can’t-”
“We will not cease in our search,” Lan-Bobo said gently, “though-”
“You will not stop,” Shushu gritted out, the first time A-Yuan had heard him speak since A-Yuan’s family from Lotus Pier had arrived at the palace, at Cloud Recesses. “You failed to protect him, and now-”
“Wanyin,” Gufu said softly, “it is not the time.”
A-Yuan didn’t want to listen anymore. He tilted his head to look up at his A-Die, who was staring straight ahead, his beautiful face blank as stone. When A-Yuan tugged at his sleeve, he looked down, and the cast of his expression cracked just enough to show a fragile care that A-Yuan thought only he could see. Without speaking, A-Die bent to draw him into his arms and cradled him to his chest, rising once A-Yuan was secure. A-Yuan tucked his face into his A-Die’s shoulder, rubbing his cheek against the silky fabric of his robe.
“Are you tired?” A-Die asked, his voice a low rumble that reverberated into A-Yuan’s skin.
A-Yuan shook his head.
A-Die was not one to sigh, but his chest pressed against A-Yuan’s own in the semblance of one. “Do not lie.”
Thin fingers trailed against his back softly, gentle and familiar. “A-Yuan, darling,” Guma said, hushed and wet, “would you like to come back to Lotus Pier?”
A-Die’s arms tightened around him, and A-Yuan whined. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, wasn’t sure what was up or down. He wanted his Baba; he wanted Guma; he wanted to go back to A-Die’s bed and sleep and have his hair stroked with long, steady fingers.
“A-Die,” he cried, and hoped he would be understood.
Guma sighed, and A-Die rocked ever so slightly in place.
“He’s very taken with you,” Guma said.
“Mm,” A-Die agreed. “I…Wei…Wei Ying told me…much about him.”
A-Yuan hugged his A-Die tighter at the mention of his Baba. A-Die stroked the back of his head.
The adults continued to speak around him, their voices rising and falling. A-Yuan’s eyes fluttered shut, his thoughts drifting amongst memories of flame and laughter, of flute song and the shifting of the earth. A-Die’s fingers were gentle in his hair, Guma’s touch light on his back.
He dreamed of Baba. He dreamed of home. Home, where clouds drifted, reflected in the infinite expanse of a crystal lake, and Baba’s magic was everywhere.