InsaneJournal

Who: Laurence and Lan Xichen
What: Getting together to compare calligraphy
When: Saturday, Sept 4
Where: Cloud Recess
Warning: If these two ever need a warning there's something Seriously Wrong
Status: Complete


Laurence had, initially, thought to bring a bottle of wine for Lan Xichen, but he hadn’t wanted to give the impression that he presumed to stay for dinner. He’d opted instead to bring a small box of high-quality dark chocolate: of all the extravagant new foods Laurence had discovered in Vallo, chocolate had rated highly. In his own time, it had come only as a liquid which he normally drank warm, which varied wildly from quite delicious to so bitter as to be nearly undrinkable. He suspected that even had Lan Xichen tried chocolate in his own world, it would pale in comparison to this new recipe. He carried the chocolate, tied with a silver ribbon, in the crook of his left arm, and held in his hand a small bag which contained the lovely, if not overpriced dip pen he’d purchased in his first days here, a small ink well, a half dozen ballpoint pens for curiosity’s sake, and a new journal that he’d purchased this morning for the sake of this demonstration.

He was glad now that he’d decided against the wine, as Alcohol is Prohibited was one of the first rules that was listed on the stone wall. He’d been surprised at how easily he could read the list of rules - he may have a passing competency in speaking Chinese, but reading the language had been a challenge unto itself for which he’d never developed the ability, and there were places where the writing on the wall had been so worn as to be nearly illegible. Even still, he found that he was able to read it with not much more difficulty than he would have in English, though he thought that even if the wall had been written in English, he’d not have time to finish before Lan Xichen came.

He thought many of the rules would be easy to follow, though he made special note of the ones which may have given him particular trouble so that he might keep them present in his mind; even still, he was near certain that it would not take him long before he’d managed to embarrass himself. He was just smiling (foolishly, perhaps?) at the unnecessary inclusion of Do not disregard laws and rules when he heard someone approach, and he turned to them.

Down the pathway from the house came Lan Xichen, dressed in what passed for “relaxing at home” clothes at Cloud Recesses: pale blue silk robes on top of more silk robes, and of course the ubiquitous forehead ribbon of self-discipline. What else could one expect from the clan with three thousand rules literally carved in stone at the entrance?

“Good afternoon,” he said, raising his hands before him and making the simple, polite bow one gave to equals. Lan Xichen had no idea how people’s merits were judged here in Vallo, but he’d always been the sort to treat everyone like an equal anyway. That part of the transition to a new world wasn’t too difficult. “Thank you for your visit, Lao Ren-Tse.”

He spoke the Chinese version of Laurence’s name the same way he would any of his friends’ names with similar structures, as though “lao” was a clan name and “ren-tse” was a courtesy name. Having never heard it said, that seemed to make sense, and was certainly easier to say than William Laurence, of all the messy sounds in the world.

Laurence returned the bow, managing it gracefully enough, he thought. It had been some time since he’d last heard ‘Lao-Ren-Tze,’ but he’d grown used to it in his months in China and was gladder to have someone comfortable in saying his name than anything, and it had been he who had suggested the name if it was easier than his English name.

“A good afternoon to you, too. I thank you for your invitation, Zewu Jun,” Laurence said. He didn’t recognize the title itself, even if he recognized it as a title of some sort. “I’ve brought this for you,” he added, adjusting his grip on his bag so that he might present the box of chocolate with both hands. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t,” his host replied, and found to his own surprise that a small smile had come to his face. There hadn’t been many smiles in recent times, but this little touch of familiarity, hosting someone and accepting a simple gift, warmed Lan Xichen more than he expected. With so much strangeness and discomfort, it was nice to have home feel more like home.

He received the box in both hands and bowed once more in gratitude. “Thank you. And please, call me Lan Xichen. Despite the Wall of Discipline--” He nodded to the stone wall etched with rules upon rules. “--I am not one who insists on the greatest formality.”

Laurence felt a small amount of relief in hearing that. Though he'd been raised with the impeccable manners of a Lord's son and had always taken a great deal of comfort in knowing exactly the rules that one should conduct themselves with in company, he'd fallen rather out of practice these last five years and found that he'd grown, somehow, to prefer the loose manners of the Aerial Corp (even if he could not bring himself to quite take comfort in the complete lack thereof in New South Wales just yet). Add to that not being wholly familiar or comfortable with Chinese customs, despite the crash course Hammond had put him through nearly four years ago now, a loosening of formalities was something to be glad for.

"I hope you'll share it with your brother and your companions, Lan Xichen," he said, in reference to the chocolates. He had tried not to read any of the comments on Lan Xichen's posts that hadn't directed toward him, but it had been impossible to miss the fact that a great many people had seemed familiar with him.

"It is a very impressive wall," Laurence said, with a hint of a smile, glancing toward the wall. "I must say, it's refreshing to have the rules for a residence etched in stone and so prominently on display so one doesn't make any grievous errors. I regret that I hadn't quite managed to make it through all of your edicts, however. I hope you won't hesitate to correct me if I should do anything you consider unacceptable."

"You'll find me a less dedicated enforcer of the precepts than Grandmaster Lan would be," Lan Xichen warmly replied. "The spirit of them is more important than the letter, I think. If you generally conduct yourself with honor, I won't take issue with a bit of running or smiling. Nor will my brother, and we are all of the Gusu Lan who are here. Please, be at ease."

Laurence allowed himself to smile, though it was unlikely he’d be doing any running without cause. “How have you been enjoying Vallo so far?” Laurence asked. “Have you had much chance to explore the island, or the city?”

"Mostly the forest, so far," Lan Xichen replied. He began leading the way up the path to the collection of buildings that made up Cloud Recesses. He did not, despite a powerful urge to do so, comment on Laurence's hair. Not that there was anything wrong with it--he'd just never seen the color of autumn chestnut leaves taking up residence on a person's head before, and it was almost as foreign to him as all the electricity and typing. Lan Xichen kept his many questions to himself, because it was obviously not appropriate to inquire after a guest's hair, but he resolved to ask his brother later if this was a normal thing.

Outwardly, he projected the same serenity that he always did in public, clarifying his answer further. "I have needed a few days to...adjust. Jiang Yanli has promised me a tour of the city this week, however. I'm also to meet Dorian Pavus soon to learn of the covens, which seem to be the closest equivalent to the cultivator sects in my own world."

Laurence walked in step with Lan Xichen drinking in all the sight, glad he was not wholly unfamiliar with the way Chinese estates were set up so that he did not gape like a fish; as much as he loved the rolling hills and manors of England, the Chinese seemed much more aesthetically conscious in their estates.

"It's good you'll have a guide your first trip. I hope you'll not be too overwhelmed, and that you'll be mindful of traffic." Laurence himself had stepped directly into the path of a car while he'd been avoiding being hit by a bicycle, and he was sure that it has only been thanks to the attentions of Eloise that he'd made it to Morningside Manor at all.

"Dorian is a good man. His help to me has been invaluable so far; I'm glad you'll be meeting him." His manners were not quite what Laurence was used to, with the ego of Iskierka but without any of the bloodthirsty impatience. He hadn't mentioned the covens to Laurence, but as Laurence had no magic of his own, he was not terribly surprised.

Dorian was much more...open, he supposed, than the people Lan Xichen was used to. The cultivation world prized an even temper and a serious countenance, keeping emotions under tight reins and sharing them only with those closest to them. Dorian's ready smiles and quips were the stuff of courtesans and entertainers, to Lan Xichen. Not that he objected - as he slowly made his way out of seclusion, rethinking all his choices, there was something reassuring in that sort of honesty and freedom of feeling.

"He introduced himself in the Glorious Purveyors shop, when my brother sent me looking for talisman paper," Lan Xichen replied. "And he helped me find the silk for putting down my poem of gratitude. He seems to be a very helpful person - which I appreciate, having fallen into such strange circumstances. And you said you have only been here a short time yourself?"

"It will be two weeks tomorrow," Laurence answered. He'd spent these two weeks desperately trying to learn all he needed of this world, paying social calls and trying to integrate himself into society - he'd gone to a charity event the evening before, which was not unlike the society parties he'd frequent before Temeraire came into his life, and he'd picked up two free tickets to the symphony toward the end of the month. It was difficult to believe that there had once been a time when Laurence had thought losing such a life would be unbearable, when now he would give it up in a heartbeat if only it meant that he could see Temeraire again.

He hadn't yet looked overhard for employment - especially not once he'd found an additional $1500 that Vallo had provided one afternoon - but he hadn't wanted to start work while he still couldn't work a light switch. The time was coming though; as overwhelming as this world was, it was beginning to lose its ability to distract him from the fact that he was quite alone, and that for the first time he was needing to rebuild his life from the ground up without the constant, comforting presence of Temeraire. Dorian had gone a long way in assuring him that Temeraire himself was not likely to feel the loss - the idea that there could be two Laurence's existing simultaneously was a lot to take in but he'd accepted it quickly if only so it meant Temeraire was not left alone in New South Wales. But he knew well enough that he'd soon need some sort of purpose; he could not spend all his days engaged in frivolity.

He realized, belatedly, that he'd allowed himself to enter a brown study, and he forced himself back to the present. "It's been quite the steep learning curve, but it's been filled with unexpected delights. Much of the food here is quite unlike anything I've had at home, though it does have the familiar comforts as well. And technology has managed to provide many comforts I hadn't ever thought myself to be lacking."

Lan Xichen noticed the little stretch of silence, but it didn't bother him. Silence was a frequent companion in Cloud Recesses, nothing to cause discomfort or anxiety. Neither, though, was conversation; unlike some other members of his family, Lan Xichen actually liked most people and enjoyed speaking with them.

"The swift communication is certainly helpful," he said. "In my world, if we could have reached each other hundred of miles away in an instant, with perfect privacy...many things might have been different."

The dirt pathway turned to white gravel as they reached the first of the dwellings of Cloud Recesses. Dark wood, white plaster, and pale gray roof tiles made the whole place seem bright, reflecting light in every direction. It was still strange for Lan Xichen to see it so motionless, without the white robes of junior disciples fluttering down every walkway and hall.

“If there is one thing I could bring back to my world, it would be the instant communication,” Laurence agreed. He wasn’t sure how much would be different, but he imagined warfare in general would be much changed if communication could vasty outdistance armies. How might the invasion of Britain have been avoided had they heard of Napoleon’s plans while they were being hatched.

He frowned to himself, tilting his head. “I assume, then, that your world must have some sort of post system. How is that managed, if you don’t have dragons?” Britain was relatively small, though he imagined that one could ride across it on horseback in about a week's time. The delay would be wearisome but not egregious. But China was almost unimaginably vast; he couldn’t imagine that delivering mail by horseback was at all feasible, especially when he’d come to think of China’s postal service as one of the quickest and most advanced in the world.

"By messenger or bird, most often," Lan Xichen replied, faintly puzzled. The postal system was such a basic fact of his life that he struggled to imagine it any other way. "Your dragons carry mail?"

Not that courier was a disreputable profession, but in Lan Xichen's world, dragons were legendary beings, to be held in awe or even worshipped. The idea of them just carrying letters around seemed absurd.

“Not all of them, of course. It wouldn’t be practical for, say, a heavyweight dragon to carry regular post.” Though, it didn’t seem uncommon in China or in America for heavyweight dragons to carry particularly large, cumbersome, or heavy packages. “In Britain, we use lightweight dragons as our courier dragons. They’re about the size of a cart horse and can only manage a single rider. Not fit for battle, perhaps, but excellent to carry the post. In China, the dragons run the post without any riders, and there’s a very efficient relay system put in place which is the quickest I’ve ever heard of. And they’ve recently bred the Lung Shen dragons. Lung Shen Li, who’s been delivering the post for Temeraire and I, can fly over five-and-a-half thousand miles,” he paused here, doing quick, mental arithmetic, “nearly 18,000 li in a fortnight, though I’m given to understand that his endurance is prodigious even among others of his breed.”

That was stunning enough to break through even the Lan's legendary composure. Of course, a Lan breaking composure was just a slight lifting of the eyebrows, but still. "That's more ground than I could ever cover in sword flight," Lan Xichen marveled aloud. "From Gusu to Meishan takes that long, with stops for rest and food, and it's a fraction of the distance. And I would be exhausted by the end of such a flight."

“Yes, I’m not sure I could endure such a -” Laurence stopped suddenly, both speaking and walking as the words truly sunk in, and he was forced to take a couple of hurried steps in order to catch up again. For a moment, he’d been sure that he misheard fight as flight, but then he’d puzzled over it and realized that the rest of the statement would make no sense if he had simply misheard. He had only the loosest understanding of Chinese geography, but he was certain that it would be impossible for one to have a sword fight that covered the distance from Gusu to Meishan.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite take your meaning,” he said after a moment. “A sword flight?”

"Yes?" Lan Xichen appeared as puzzled by the question as Laurence did by the concept. It took him a moment to process that this was apparently another one of those strange differences between worlds. "It's how cultivators often travel long distances, when there's no need to stay for long or bring much. The cultivator extends their spiritual power to connect with that of their sword, and use it to take flight. It's faster than running, but it does consume a lot of energy."

Laurence had the sudden, absurd mental image of men riding their swords as witches were said to ride brooms, though he supposed that doing so would be wildly uncomfortable even if the sword were sheathed. Standing upon the blade seemed impractical, but so too did dangling by ones arms like a monkey seemed more undignified than he could imagine Lan Xichen being.

"It sounds as though it would take some time to learn," he said. "Though quite convenient once you mastered it. I can't imagine flying without a dragon beneath me."

"You are correct on both matters," Lan Xichen replied. "And I cannot imagine being on a dragon like some hero of folklore."

A single turn brought them to the Library Pavilion, a rounded, sweeping space that was as neat as everything else at Cloud Recesses despite the quantity of knowledge it contained. Books and Scrolls were stacked and shelved, and the low desks that served as work areas were neatly arranged. With his customary elegance, Lan Xichen slipped off his shoes as he entered the room, barely rustling the hem of his robes. He led Laurence to the largest of the desks, set on a slightly raised platform at the room's center. He had already set it up for writing - a few leaves of fine paper were stacked in preparation for use, and the brushes and ink and their associated tools were at hand as always, ready for scholars to sit before them and get to work. On a smaller table, just to the side of the desk, a finely glazed tea service for two patiently awaited them; it would never be said that the Lan clan lacked for hospitality, even with their circumstances so changed.

Lan Xichen sat first - with proper form, of course, because sitting improperly was among the many forbidden acts at Cloud Recesses. He couldn't be sure of how his rank compared with Laurence's and who technically ought to sit first, but he had a feeling Laurence didn't know, either. It seemed best to set an example.

Laurence mentally cursed his lack of foresight as he bent to untie his boots to remove them, but it was quickly done before he was able to join Lan Xichen. Even had Laurence not developed a taste for reading in the last half decade - entirely the fault of Temeraire - he would have been impressed by the library, and he glanced around, wondering if any of the scrolls here were copies of the ones Temeraire had read.

On the matter of rank, Laurence was uncomfortably aware that, had they been in China, he most likely would have outranked Lan Xichen. Luckily, they were no where near China proper, despite the surroundings Laurence now found himself in, and even if they were, the question of different worlds was also, confusingly, present. Either way, Laurence was more than happy to give precedence to his host and never have the question broached formally. Laurence waited until Lan Xichen was seated before he seated himself, never especially elegant in his movements, particularily now without the flowing Chinese robes to mask his graceless limbs. As smart as he considered his suit, styled more in the local style than the clothing he normally wore at home, it did him no favours now.

"I thank you again for your hospitality. Your home is quite lovely," Laurence said, once he was situated. He wondered, vaguely, how Lan Xichen had come across a home here so well-suited to him. It seemed quite out of place with the glass and steel towers of Vallo City, though he couldn't ask it.

"Thank you," Lan Xichen replied, more warmth coming through in his tone than in his facial expression. "I was pleased to find it here when I arrived. According to my brother, our mountain home simply appeared out of nowhere one day. He says it happens with some regularity - things from other worlds find their way here just as people do."

Lan Xichen didn't know what he'd do if he had to make his way in the city. Just coming through there to do the first very basic business with the Department of Outlander Affairs had been overwhelming. The presence of this one familiar place was a great balm to the wound of jumping universes. It made some things much easier - he could invite a new acquaintance to visit, for instance, and serve tea just as he would on a normal day.

Laurence wasn't quite sure how to take that news. It seemed incredibly odd to him that entire buildings could drop out of nowhere, though he supposed it was no more or less odd than a person appearing out of nowhere; perhaps it was the same as what Dorian had said about it existing simultaneously in two worlds. He wished he could get Temeraire's, or even Tharkay's opinions on matter; speaking with either one of them often helped him get his thoughts in order when nothing else seemed to.

He wasn't sure what he'd do if Wollaton Hall were to drop out of the sky, and decided the matter was too complicated to dwell on overmuch in the company of others.

"It must have been a great comfort," Laurence said. Even without having spent any portion of his life at Cloud Recess, he already felt more at peace here than he has in the city. He suspected it was equal parts the fresh air, the lack of the near-constant hum of electricity, traffic, and all the other ambient noises that came from a modern city, and that the general aesthetic of the place was clearly one that had been designed to invoke peaceful contemplation and study.

"Are there a great many who live here, or is it just yourself and your brother?"

"Normally there are many others," Lan Xichen answered as he carefully poured a cup of tea for Laurence. "Our clan and its disciples live here, and we take students from the other clans on a regular basis as well. On this island, the population is reduced to just a few of us - myself, my brother, my nephew, and my brother's betrothed. It feels strangely empty."

He poured a second cup of tea for himself, thinking of all the usual activity at Cloud Recesses. Lan Xichen had found himself simultaneously missing the bustle of students and visitors and glad of the peace and the lack of any obligation to be at his best at all times. It was lonely, but it was also relaxing.

Laurence waited until Lan Xichen poured his own cup before he reached for his, inclining his head in thanks before he smelled the aroma as Hammond had taught him and took a sip.

"I imagine it must be strange indeed to be so reduced, though perhaps with time you'll grow to appreciate the intimacy." He hoped so, at least. Laurence himself had grown to appreciate the smaller, more intimate circle of companions he'd cultivated in the last five years over the large social circle he'd maintained while he'd been in the Navy.

"I do, for all that I miss the activity. There is something to be said for quiet, at times." Lan Xichen had always been a person who enjoyed the society of others, before Guanyin Temple. He liked good conversation, playing music, joining his friends for a floral banquet or a festival celebration. The time since had been much harder, and he'd turned to self-imposed isolation in an attempt to get through it without damaging anyone else. Now that he was rejoining the world, it was good to be able to do so in stages rather than being plunged head first into the role of sect leader.

He wasn't one to dwell too much on himself, though. Rather quickly, Lan Xichen considered Laurence's situation, and how much more difficult that must be. "Do you have anyone from your world here?" he asked. "Or are you entirely alone?"

"I've been told Temeraire has been here before." Laurence too, though that was a particularly unnerving thought. "And so I hope he might join me here again. But I've no complaints of my reception so far. The other Outlanders have been quite welcoming; even the locals have been very understanding."

"Very," Lan Xichen agreed, still rather amazed by that himself. "I suppose they've grown used to visitors here, but even so...I cannot think that people so foreign would be met with such understanding if they appeared in the world I came from rather than this one." They'd probably all be thought either demons or madmen, had Outlanders begun appearing in the cultivation world. And how they were treated...well, that could vary wildly depending on when and where they landed. It was a rather disturbing thought, imagining these kind and friendly people trying to survive Qishan under Wen Ruohan.

That was a thought that Laurence hadn’t had before, and he very nearly laughed at the idea of the Government attempting to deal with a sudden influx of Outlanders. “No, there would not be nearly so much understanding in Britain, either,” he agreed. “I can’t even begin to imagine how parliament might respond. I think the government entire would grind to a halt while they debated what was to be done and present motions, many of which would be frivolous at best”

Unless, of course, the government tried to poison the lot of them, in which case they might just do so without any parliamentary debate whatsoever, he added to himself, bitterly. But then, perhaps the Outlanders presented as too human for them to stoop to such lows.

There had been a time when Laurence would have been appalled at such blatant criticism of the government, but distance and treason had rather changed his views on things.

Lan Xichen had gone through a similarly violent realigning of his world view. He had believed in prudence and justice and following the very many rules, and he had believed in the judgment of his elders. He'd believed that there were depths to which no seemingly decent person could possibly sink. Now he reckoned with looking back on a lifetime of absolutes that were not so absolute and wondering what else he had held as true that wasn't. It made looking at the three thousand precepts on the vaunted Wall of Discipline rather difficult, some days - especially now that he'd found himself in a completely different world with wildly different people.

"We…" The corner of Lan Xichen's mouth turned up to form the ghost of a rueful smile. "I cannot honestly say if we would have held a week-long discussion conference to not make any proper decisions about it, or simply gone to war without a thought. I am glad we have Vallo as our hosts, rather than the cultivation world or your Parliament."

“It’s good to know that going to war without a second thought is common across multiple worlds,” Laurence said wryly, and took a sip of his tea. “I’ll consider us very fortunate to have wound up here instead.” It did make Laurence very curious about the system of government Vallo had implemented, though he’d spent the last several months swearing off politics altogether - despite how MacArthur kept trying to make him change his mind.

Politics had taken up a large portion of Lan Xichen’s working life in his own world. Here he wasn’t quite sure yet how he would be involved. He’d only accepted the concept of rejoining the world rather recently; determining the way to do that was still a work in progress. Inviting someone to tea and conversation was sort of a first attempt at it.

Lan Xichen gave his agreement with the sentiment in the form of a simple nod of his head. It was indeed best for all that they had come to someplace so open. “If we continue on this path of conversation, I fear we will turn melancholy,” he said. “Tell me instead of Temeraire. I am curious about a dragon who reads the Analects and calls human beings his friends.”

Speaking of Temeraire was also likely to make Laurence melancholy, though in a different way than thinking of the hubris of government, and as much as it felt like tastelessly bragging about his child, Laurence had always received a certain kind of pleasure in speaking of Temeraire’s merits.

He took a sip of his tea, contemplating where to start. “Friendship between humans and dragons is quite common in my world,” he started eventually. “I believe most countries have some sort of relationship between their human citizens and their dragons, although the exact shape that relationship can take can vary widely.” He’d never seen the relationship between Russian Dragons and their riders, though he’d heard that it was not typically a kind one, whereas in Tswana, dragons were particularly well-regarded.

“Temeraire and I’ve been together since his hatching in the year five, and even when he was fresh from the shell he was the most curious creature I’d ever seen. He’s cleverer by half than any other being I’ve met, and can learn languages nearly as easily as he can breathe. When we came to China, he was immediately taken with it: The Chinese have a much more respectful relationship with Dragons than we do in Britain, I’m sorry to say. It’s only natural, of course, that he immediately wished to learn all he could of his country of origin, especially as Celestials are expected to be scholars and poets and not soldiers, as Temeraire was. I am quite happy to answer any questions you might have of him, so long as you don’t mind if my boasting becomes a little tiresome.”

“Not at all,” Lan Xichen said, and for the first time in a while, a proper smile came to his face. He’d always taken pleasure in hearing people talk about the things that truly mattered to them. Whether that was a beloved partner or a precious child or a carefully-tended peony garden, listening to someone be genuinely enthusiastic was heart-warming. The fact that this was a dragon under discussion just made it a little more fun.

“Perhaps you can show me your writing with that?” he suggested, inclining his head toward the paper on the desk. “Write his name with this pen of yours.”

"Yes, of course," Laurence said, and reached into his bag to pull out the pen and the inkwell. For now, he left the journal in the bag; he hadn't wanted to presume to use Lan Xichen's paper for the demonstration - while paper seemed comparatively inexpensive here, it was dear back home - but to refuse the offered paper would have been insulting.

He took a moment to set aside his tea cup and to arrange the inkwell and paper in front of him how he preferred.

When he wrote Temeraire it wasn't with the simple, elegant script he composed his daily correspondences in - correspondences he still wrote nightly to Jane, Granby and Tharkay, though he knew he'd never send the letters - but in the script he and his mother had spent hours perfecting when he'd been younger so that he might compose invitations as beautiful as his mother's once he had a house of his own in which to throw dinners and parties, filled with florid curlicues and crisp, clean edges.

He took a moment to examine it for flaws, noting with pleasure that the paper hadn't allowed the edges to bleed as some papers did, and then turned the sheet toward Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen had watched the whole process with interest, observing how the metal nib moved over the paper. It didn’t quite have the sweeping elegance of a brush, but it allowed for much finer control. The writing held a different kind of beauty, like a master architect’s plans for a pavilion rather than a watercolor painting of the same building. It still seemed strange to Lan Xichen that he could see any meaning in the characters, but he recognized the sounds they indicated and how those fit together to form words with meanings - or in this case, the name of a beloved friend.

“It’s very precise,” Lan Xichen remarked, and looked up from the paper with a smile. “Show me more, if you would. And explain how the metal holds onto the ink?”

“Yes, of course. Though you’ll have to consult a penturner if you’d like a more detailed explanation, I can do the best I can with what little knowledge I have,” Laurence said, and began to write the next, a bit of Shakespeare that he had prepared ahead of time specifically because he thought Lan Xichen might appreciate the poetry of the bard:

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect
For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair

The words were not as elaborate as Temeraire had been, but they were just as crisp and written in the flowing script he reserved for invitations rather than his usual penmanship. Once he was finished, he examined it again, turned it toward Lan Xichen and offered him the pen so that he might examine it closer, and leaned over the table so he might better point out the mechanisms in play. “You see here…”