Log: Lan Xichen and William Laurence WHO: William Laurence and Lan Xichen WHAT: Popping the question. No, not that question. The other question. WHEN: Monday evening WHERE: The Hanshi at Cloud Recesses WARNINGS: None
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Laurence read Lan Xichen’s comment so many times that could likely recite it from heart, half convinced that he’d missed something important, some sort of indication that Lan Xichen couldn’t, or wouldn’t, live with Laurence, were he to ask.
But every reread strengthened Laurence’s convictions that Lan Xichen wanted this as much as Laurence did.
He’d very nearly rushed immediately from the covert, but made himself slow down. He made sure his appearance was appropriate – suit ironed and clean and crisp, queue neat, and while he tied his neckcloth for the third time, just to be sure that it sat properly, he contemplated if he should arrive empty-handed or not.
He was sure, nearly sure, that Jane would not have accepted his marriage proposal even had he prepared a little better, and he was, in the end, glad that she’d refused: he was not sure if he would have been able to do what needed doing, had she accepted, and if he still had, he wasn’t sure if such a betrayal was one he would have ever been able to forgive, even if everyone else, even if Jane herself, would have been able to. But that hadn’t stopped him from thinking of it long after, turning it over in his mind – if he’d perhaps asked at a different time, or if he’d asked in a different way, if he’d prepared flowers and a speech, perhaps: would she have said yes?
There was some comfort in knowing that he could nearly take Lan Xichen’s answer for granted, but that didn’t mean that he would make the same mistakes. Flowers, he decided, would not be remiss.
It wasn’t until Laurence was standing on the doorstep of the Hanshi, a bouquet of red peonies in hand, that he realized he was going about this all backward; that he should be proposing marriage before he even considered living with Lan Xichen, except he wasn’t entirely sure how that would work, with two men. Lan Xichen was the head of his family, and so by rights it should have been him who proposed, and Laurence wasn’t aware of what cultural intricacies might be expected in a proper proposal. Was, perhaps, Lan Xichen expecting a proposal? It seemed to him now, standing here, that asking Lan Xichen to live with him without first proposing marriage, was, in fact, nearly an insult to Lan Xichen’s dignity and propriety, as though he were ashamed of Lan Xichen, an implication that Laurence didn’t find Lan Xichen worthy of marriage. Was, in fact, Lan Xichen expecting a proposal of marriage?
Perhaps he should speak to Lan Wangji.
Lan Xichen was of course aware when Laurence passed the wards of Cloud Recesses. He was also aware of the moment when Laurence set foot on his doorstep. He allowed the man a full five minutes of dithering on the steps. Less would seem rude, as though he didn’t have faith in Laurence, but more seemed an excessive indulgence.
That, and Lan Xichen was simply tired of waiting. He was fairly confident that he knew why Laurence was here. Discussing the idea of living together, of making their connection more permanent, was obviously a matter better suited to a face-to-face conversation rather than an exchange of text messages. He had hope of it being a discussion with a happy conclusion, so Lan Xichen wanted to get right to it–and if it was not to end well, he would rather have the matter over and done with.
Softly, the door slid open, and there was Lan Xichen, looking regal and put-together as ever. “May I invite you in?”
Laurence didn't quite jump, though he did snap suddenly to attention when the door opened, back straight, shoulders back.
Speaking with Lan Wangji would have to wait, as well as any proposal of marriage; not if he wanted to do it in a way befitting of Lan Xichen. For a moment, he wondered if he should postpone the invitation to live at the covert until a proper marriage proposal could happen.
Looking at Lan Xichen, Laurence knew he couldn't, even if it was, perhaps, the more proper option. It was more than desire that filled him. He'd been a man starved, forced to stare at a table laden with delicacies, unreachable, and he'd finally found a path cleared. He couldn't wait any longer to begin sharing his life with this man.
"You may," Laurence said, the tension leaving his shoulders. He stepped forward to greet Lan Xichen with a kiss. "These are for you," he added, presenting him with the peonies.
Lan Xichen received the kiss and the flowers both with a warm smile. “Thank you, my heart. They are beautiful,” he replied, and made room for Laurence to enter the Hanshi.
Were the flowers a good sign or a bad one, he wondered? The longer he considered the matter, the more he began to worry that the lovely peonies were the beginning of an apology for leading him on. Until Laurence had stood at his door for so long, Lan Xichen had been sure that Laurence wanted to discuss sharing a home in a positive sense, but now Lan Xichen was concocting a truly chilling vision of a conversation where he was once again told I love you, but…
“Allow me to find a vase for these. I would not want them to wither while we talk, and you look as though you have much to say.”
"I hope not so much as all that; I'm afraid I'd bore you nearly half to death if I rambled so long the flowers began to wilt," Laurence teased, though he used the time to remove his boots, feeling some surprise at the way his fingers trembled as they loosened his shoelaces.
When that was done, he made his way to the middle of the room, hands clasped behind him to hide their trembling, taking in the room while he waited for Lan Xichen to be ready. This was where he'd first heard Lan Xichen's waltz, where they'd first confessed their feelings for one another and made love. This was where Lan Xichen has presented him with the painting of Temeraire, where Lan Xichen has told Laurence of his painful past, and not far from here was where Laurence has told Lan Xichen of his own.
By necessity, Laurence had never learned to harbour any sentimentality to the places he'd lived; he'd never remained in any of them long enough to grow attached. But if he was to develop a fondness for anywhere, it would be here.
No doubt Lan Xichen's feelings for Hanshi, for Cloud Recesses, were more complicated than Laurence's, especially given his family history, but that only meant that it was tied to Lan Xichen in ways Laurence couldn't begin to fathom. He wondered again if he had any right to ask Lan Xichen to leave.
A vase was easily found; even as a child, Lan Xichen had a proper place for everything. He navigated the space easily, all his customary grace evident as he filled the vessel with water and placed the flowers in it. He tried not to think too much about anything but the flowers as he did so; if trouble were to come, it would come in its own time, and there was no sense in fretting over things that might not even come to pass.
“There.” He gave one last glance to the flowers, and finding their positions satisfactory, he turned to Laurence. Seeing him so worried, Lan Xichen walked over to him and very gently placed his fingertip between Laurence’s eyebrows, hoping to make him smile at something a little silly. “You have a little wrinkle right there when you worry,” he said, and lifted his hand away. “What worries you so, my heart?”
Laurence did smile, face clearing. "I was just thinking…" Laurence started, and reached for Lan Xichen's hands so he might twine their fingers together.
"I have never had anything I might have considered a home; not properly. I ran away from my childhood home, my parent's house, at twelve, and since then, I had scarcely spent three months together there; I'd rent rooms in London, while my ships were berthed, but nothing permanent, nothing my own. While I was captain, I had a cabin to call my own, and when I joined the Corps, I had Temeraire, and that was as much as I could wish for; I needed, wanted, nothing else. I thought, perhaps, New South Wales would become my home, but Temeraire tells me we don't remain there, either, for more than a couple months."
Temeraire did tell him that Laurence would, eventually, settle down with Tharkay on Tharkay's country estate. He seemed relatively sure that Laurence and Tharkay weren't involved romantically, and so Laurence tried not to think too hard on what that might mean, aside from moving somewhere where Temeraire might have a seat at parliament.
"It seems nearly cruel, given all that, to ask you to leave. I've more pleasant memories in Cloud Recesses than, I think I can honestly say, anywhere else in this world or my own. You've a lifetime of memories here, and a duty, as clan leader. If I could live here with you, if I thought there was any way I could, then know that I would take it. That I could never, in good conscience, ask you to give up so much. But there's no room for Temeraire, and so… Lan Huan, my love, my heart, my zhangyu, I hope you'll not think me too selfish, too audacious, if I ask you to come to the dragon covert, to make a home there, with me."
It was, without any doubt, the sweetest speech Lan Xichen had ever been given. Laurence had asked him to live with him, to make a home with him. Laurence worried only for Lan Xichen’s happiness, not for his own. Laurence had gone and learned how to say octopus just to tease him a little, and it gave Lan Xichen too much pure joy to contain. For a moment he was so overwhelmed that all he could do was squeeze Laurence’s hands and smile as though he’d been gifted the sun and the moon for his very own.
“I do not think you selfish at all,” he said at last. “I am elated that you would ask, and I do not feel I will be giving anything up. My fond memories of this place will remain no matter where I go, and Cloud Recesses and my family will always be only a short flight away.”
Laurence had been nearly as sure as he could be that Lan Xichen would agree to live with him; Lan Xichen had made it as clear as he possibly could have. Even so, to hear Lan Xichen say it aloud, to hear him say he'd not feel as though he were sacrificing some part of his life, that Laurence wasn't asking something impossible of him… Laurence felt as though some hold on his heart was released.
He placed his hand on Lan Xichen's cheek, pulled him close and kissed him deep, and broke apart only so he could murmur, "I love thee, darling, more than I ever thought possible."
“And I love you,” Lan Xichen softly replied. He stayed close, resting his forehead against Laurence’s and closing his eyes for a moment just to fully appreciate the happiness of this moment. He was glad that he had already spoken to his brother about beginning a proper courtship with Laurence and gained his approval; it would make a conversation about moving to the covert much simpler.
“Have you discussed this with A-Xiang yet?” Lan Xichen asked as the thought of family crossed his mind. “Or did you come to have this conversation first?”
"Ah, not yet," Laurence admitted, sheepishly. "Before today, I'd thought it impossible, and when I found it was otherwise, I flew out here all at sixes and sevens, without a thought to anything except for how much I wished to speak to you. I don't think he'll have any objections, though; he is very fond of you."
“Why would you think it impossible?” Lan Xichen smiled warmly and nudged Laurence’s nose with his. “Foolish man. My intentions toward you are serious; of course I would want to live with you eventually. What is impossible is fitting A-Xiang in Cloud Recesses, or I already would have asked if you would want to move here.”
"Oh, it all seems very silly now," Laurence said, the entire notion, which he'd quietly harboured for months, being dispelled in a matter of minutes. "I had thought, with your position, that you'd be unable to leave."
Or worse, that he'd be unwilling to leave, even if it wasn't one of the 4000 precepts carved into the wall of discipline, his house and his title weighing more than any desire to live in a covert, an empty training barrack, with Laurence. It had, in fact, seemed so self-evident that Laurence hadn't even considered the alternative in anything outside of his dreams.
"I am glad to have been proven wrong."
Lan Xichen gave him a soft kiss and once again stayed right there in Laurence’s arms. “I am likewise glad I found the courage to say I wanted you to ask.”
He thought of how worried he’d gotten himself while Laurence stood on the steps and huffed a soft laugh. “And glad that my worst worries were also proved wrong. By the time I opened the door for you, I had half convinced myself that you brought flowers to apologize for making me believe you might want such a thing.”
"What a pair we make," Laurence chuckled. "I'm sorry for making you worry." He hesitated a moment, and then plowed forward, prudence be damned. "I had actually been wondering if you might not be offended if I'd asked without first proposing marriage."
“I am not,” Lan Xichen replied, though a thoughtful look came to his face. “Though I should admit that I would welcome such a proposal, after a reasonable courtship–or make one myself.” It was so strange not knowing the rules for who ought to do what, and at the same time there was a joyful freedom in it that made Lan Xichen smile. “I suppose we can handle it either way we want, can’t we?”
Laurence smiled, soft. Some small piece of him, a relic of a time long gone, wondered how anything could be expected to be done when there weren’t prescribed roles for this sort of thing, and how much confusion could be avoided. But the rest of him, the greater part of him, was pleased. Many of the surprises in Laurence’s life had been unpleasant, or had, at first, seemed as though they would be unpleasant; in this, he could be pleasantly surprised, however it happened.
“Any which way we could possibly desire.” He placed another gentle kiss on Lan Xichen’s lips. “We can remake whatever traditions we wish.”