Will Laurence (gentlemanly) wrote in valloic, @ 2022-08-23 10:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, temeraire: william laurence, the untamed: lan xichen |
And of course, there was the matter of storing clothing. Lan Xichen had brought over the stand he used for airing out his hanfu after wearing, but it had seemed silly to haul over a wardrobe and shelves when there were surely similar enough pieces already at the covert. Thus he was now, following an afternoon of supervising photo shoots, cleaning out an ornately carved oak wardrobe for his own use. In the midst of the process, he found them.
Lan Xichen had worn layers of silk and cotton robes since he was a child, and as First Young Master and then Clan Leader of the Lan Clan, he had always worn the best. He knew quality. What he was looking at here, folded neatly away and stashed where it would be looked at as little as possible, was the finest work he’d ever seen. It wasn’t just silk, it was thickly woven silk, the kind that cost ridiculous amounts of silver to get. The embroidery on the outer robe, dragons from top to bottom, was gloriously detailed and impossibly fine, with shards of gemstones for the dragons’ eyes and talons–he could hardly imagine the hours that must have gone into that stitchery. And the color! Each layer of the robes was dyed to perfection, in a shade of gold brighter even than what the Jin clan claimed for their colors.
Imperial gold, Lan Xichen realized with wonder. The cultivation world didn’t interact much with the outside government, preferring to handle their own affairs, but he still knew Imperial yellow when he saw it. He knew the story of how Laurence had been adopted by the emperor in his world, all part of the complicated political maneuverings that allowed Laurence and Temeraire to remain together. Laurence had always described the matter dismissively, however, calling it only a formality, and certainly never mentioning that he had in his possession the most beautiful formalwear Lan Xichen had ever laid eyes on. Formalwear which Laurence undoubtedly looked very fine in, if Lan Xichen’s imagination was any judge of the matter.
“Will-ge!” he called into the hallway. Raising one’s voice was forbidden at Cloud Recesses, but it was necessary at the covert if one wanted to accomplish anything with any efficiency. “Will! Come in here!”
Laurence had not quite gotten over his joy (and mild shock) at finally living with Lan Xichen. There was some small part of him, a holdover from another life, that was almost horrified at the idea of living under the same roof, in the same bed, with someone he wasn’t married to, but it was quieting, even if his desire to marry him wasn’t. The silks that Lan Xichen hung could have easily seemed ostentatious, and yet under Lan Xichen’s hand they were elegant and tasteful. He was pleased with the work he’d put into the library – Laurence had developed a taste for reading since Temeraire had come along, but that hadn’t translated into a love of poking around in libraries, and the room had fallen into (or perhaps had always been in – he didn’t think there were many aviators who made a hobby of librarianship) a state of disorganisation that had discomfited him whenever he’d gone in it to find a new book for Temeraire.
Under Lan Xichen’s care, the covert had been slowly transforming from a temporary housing of aviators into something more resembling a home; it was something Laurence could have never managed on his own, having spent nearly his entire life laying his head wherever he’d been ordered. There was a simple pleasure in being able to prepare tea or a sweet treat in anticipation of Lan Xichen coming home from a difficult day of work, of being able to rub his feet or his shoulders, and whenever he looked around and saw the evidence of Lan Xichen’s presence, whatever guilt he might have felt melted away into a strange mix of joy and longing.
He had been working on the monthly accounts when Lan Xichen called him, and, eager for the excuse to put them aside, and he set off to find Lan Xichen. It wasn’t difficult to find him.
“Yes, Darling? What is –” Laurence started, though the question died on his lips when he saw what Lan Xichen was looking at.
Laurence had been more than a little disappointed when the robes had shown up in Vallo, not very long after he’d arrived. He knew he couldn’t just get rid of them: the whole episode of his adoption into the Imperial family of China wasn’t something he particularly relished speaking about, but he wouldn’t do something so disrespectful as to get rid of them. And so he’d tucked them into the very back of his Morningside closet and had pretended to forget about them up until he moved to the covert, where, again, he stashed them away somewhere that he hoped they would never, ever be found.
“Oh.”
Lan Xichen, on the other hand, was pleased beyond measure to find them. He was rather confused by the obviously dismayed look on Laurence’s face.
“Why are these so shut away?” he asked. Robes such as these weren’t for everyday wear, certainly–they would be impractical for any occasion that involved more activity than the occasional sitting, standing, or bowing–but they were far too beautiful to leave folded up in a closet, never to be seen. In addition to imagining Laurence in them (and ever so carefully taking them off of him), Lan Xichen thought they’d also look quite nice on a display mannequin in the library.
Laurence frowned, considering the question; he'd never had to put his reluctance into words: he'd never express it to the Chinese, and the British had all understood it as naturally as breathing (the exception being Hammond, whom Laurence suspected knew, but just didn't care). With Temeraire, he could explain why it was inappropriate to don them in any specific instance, but that wouldn't work for a question of why they were hidden away in the first place.
"They're too fine," Laurence said at length. "I'm only a simple soldier, Huan, and it would not be appropriate… it would seem as though I were putting on airs, or pretending to be something I was not, were I to display them like some sort of prize. And if others were to see them, I'm sure they would get the wrong idea."
The only evidence of Lan Xichen’s ever-growing puzzlement was a slight tilt of his head. The tiny change in angle, to anyone who knew him well, indicated quite clearly ‘I understand the words you are saying, but they do not make sense to me.’ He thought Will Laurence was the finest of men, and that he accordingly deserved every nice thing in the world and that anyone who disagreed was quite simply incorrect. It was a thing Lan Xichen had in common with Temeraire.
“So despite all you have done to allow your world’s emperor to save face, all you sacrificed to protect all the dragons in your world, all you have been through in the name of helping others…you believe that this piece of silk is unearned?”
Laurence dismay only increased. He'd thought that Lan Xichen would have understood: more than even Laurence, he was well-versed in diplomacy and what was proper, but perhaps that didn't matter quite as much as Laurence had hoped. Diplomacy was, after all, Hammond's job, and the man had seemed nearly as insistent as Temeraire when it came to Laurence wearing the robes, but then, Laurence would never accuse Hammond of having much in the way of tact, however good of a diplomat he may have turned out to be.
"They are robes for royalty, of which I am not, no matter what polite fiction was settled upon so that Temeraire and I could remain together. I am not a prince, and it would be unseemly to pretend that I were."
“I do not mean to suggest that you wear them to tea,” Lan Xichen explained, thinking he was being quite the model of patience. He understood propriety and being circumspect and tactful, but sometimes his understanding of such matters was different from Laurence’s, and it appeared imperial robes were going to bring that to the fore. “But this is possibly the most beautiful textile art I have ever seen, and—if I understand correctly—a gift from an emperor? A memento of your past and A-Xiang’s, even. Displaying them does not seem dishonest or inappropriate to me.”
Laurence floundered; however dishonest it might have seemed to him, when Lan Xichen put it like that it was clear that that wasn't any sort of argument that he could make. It had been a gift from the emperor, and one they obviously seemed keen on him having: Temeraire had told him how these robes had burned up, and the new emperor had had new ones made for him.
"It would seem as though I were making pretensions," he ventured at last, a little desperately.
Lan Xichen still didn’t quite get it. If Laurence wore the robes to anything but an official imperial function, yes, that would seem gauche. This was full ceremonial garb, nothing to wear for a day about town unless one were trying to make a point, but simply to display it in their home? That seemed perfectly normal, like any display of art or artifact for its beauty or the story it had to tell. And yet, Laurence was obviously embarrassed by the mere idea of it. This man who so loved spinning a tale at dinner was absolutely not interested in telling this one to anyone for any reason.
“If you tell the tale to others anything like the way you told it to me,” Lan Xichen said, “no one would think you were at all pretentious. But if you prefer to never have it come up at all, I will not push the matter.”
Laurence could tell that Lan Xichen didn't understand, and Laurence, for all he was trying, couldn't seem to find any way to put it into words just why he found the whole thing so distasteful, and he was beginning to wonder if it wasn't he who was being unreasonable about this. He took some comfort in the idea that Granby, at least, would have backed him up in this. He sat down on an old, worn loveseat which had been pushed up against one of the walls.
"I had thought when word of my adoption by the emperor reached my father, that he would have been furious," Laurence said, inexplicably. He couldn't begin to understand why he suddenly felt the urge to discuss his father. "That he'd think that I had entered into the arrangement with no thought to his feelings, as though I'd cast him aside to be a prince of China. I spent half a year wondering how I would make it up to him, and when I finally saw him again, he didn't so much as mention it."
If he'd been angry, he hadn't shown it. All he'd asked of Laurence was to publicly oppose Horatio Nelson's views on the slave trade; Laurence had, evidently, become nearly famous enough to stand opposite of the naval admiral.
Now this was starting to make sense to Lan Xichen, at least in a way. Whether it was the right way or not, he couldn’t be sure, so he came to sit beside Laurence and place a hand lightly on his knee, there for Laurence to take if he wanted it.
“I think I begin to see why you struggle so with accepting anything you don’t believe you’ve won for yourself,” Lan Xichen quietly said.
Laurence took his hand, and rested his head on Lan Xichen's shoulder, and stared glumly at the robes. He wasn't blind; he could see that they were beautiful. Under other circumstances, ones that hadn't involved his adoption, he may have even been pleased to have them.
"Perhaps you're right," Laurence said after a moment. "And if they're on display, then maybe Temeraire won't insist I wear them any time he sees the opportunity. I haven't yet told him that they're here." He couldn't say that he hadn't felt a little guilty at the near deception, either. He knew how much Temeraire would have enjoyed knowing they had arrived in Vallo.
Lan Xichen would still have liked to have words with Laurence’s father (why did so many men neglect or mistreat their children?), but it was hard not to feel lighter imagining how Temeraire must have insisted about the robes. The dragon did like to be admired, and he seemed to consider Laurence’s consequence an extension of his own.
“Young people often struggle with the art of dressing for an occasion rather than aiming to be at one’s most impressive at all times,” he replied with a fond smile. “Perhaps we could mount them on a display mannequin somewhere he can see?”
Laurence managed, narrowly, to keep the dismay from his face. Displayed in the library, at least, would ensure that few people would be likely to see it; somewhere where Temeraire would see would mean that it would be far more likely to be seen by visitors.
But of course, if he were to display it at all, it would have to be within Temeraire’s vision; to do so otherwise would be inexcusable. He doubted very much that Lan Xichen or Temeraire would be satisfied with him putting it on a mannequin near the window in one of the unused rooms.
“Yes, I think that Temeraire would like that very much,” he agreed. “Just not the main vestibule, I beg of you.”
“Perhaps instead of merely dusting off the library, we should have builders come to add a large window,” Lan Xichen thoughtfully replied. “One facing A-Xiang’s pavilion. Then we could set up the robes where he could look on them and the collection of books whenever he likes, without placing them in full view of every visitor who calls upon us. How would that suit you?”
Laurence's hands had lost many of the calluses he'd had when he'd first arrived in Vallo, no longer used to toil long in the fields of his farm, but they were still rough in comparison to the smooth, soft skin of Lan Xichen's cheek has he cupped his face and leaned in to kiss him.
"I think that would suit me very well. Temeraire, too. We can have it so the windows open, so that he might talk with us while we're there."
Every now and then, Lan Xichen thought, it still came in handy that he’d spent so long practicing the art of diplomacy. He settled in against Laurence with a smile, resting their foreheads together and turning to tuck his knees up over Laurence’s lap. The habit of clinging like an octopus did not seem likely to leave him any time soon.
“Then I believe we have a solution that will work for everyone,” he said. “And that leaves me with but one request to make.”
“Of course,” Laurence said; there was little that Lan Xichen could request that Laurence wouldn’t do, so long as it was within his power. “What is it?”
“Will you put them on for me?” Lan Xichen continued quickly, before Laurence could panic or say some variation of absolutely not. “Just once, not where anybody else would see - in our quarters would be perfect, in fact.”
Laurence flushed. Looking at it, it wasn’t a surprise that Lan Xichen had asked, and yet somehow he hadn’t expected it. He wouldn’t refuse him, though, though he did feel he should disabuse him of any notion that the robes suited him.
“I do not wear them nearly as well as you wear yours, so I hope you’ll not expect me to look anything but out of place in them. But if you wish it, I will wear them for you.”
“Looking out of place is more often than not a matter of feeling out of place,” Lan Xichen replied. “If you put them on thinking you are wearing the costume of an imperial prince, you will undoubtedly look deeply uncomfortable the entire time you wear them. However…”
Lan Xichen lowered his voice a touch and walked his fingertips slowly up Laurence’s chest. “If you think of it as simply putting on some very fine formalwear from your lover’s culture because it would please him to see you dressed up so just once, it might feel less awkward. I would be happy to return the indulgence by wearing whatever your people wear for the finest occasions sometime, if you like.”
It wasn't the first time Laurence imagined Lan Xichen displaying those long, fine legs of his in a pair of tight-fitting breeches, though he hadn't before paired the image with a tailcoat, perhaps worn atop a pale blue waistcoat, and the image, paired with Lan Xichen's tone of voice, made Laurence's mouth go dry with want.
He doubted very much that when he'd been given the robes, the Emperor intended him to peacock around in it so as to impress a lover, but he thought, in that moment, that he'd agree to just about anything that Lan Xichen asked of him.
He caught Lan Xichen's hand and kissed his palm. "Very well. If you would like to wait for me in our quarters, I will meet you there."
Lan Xichen allowed himself just a few seconds to bask in the light of love and victory. And anticipation, because however foreign Laurence might find the garb, Lan Xichen thought he would look very well in it indeed.
“Thank you for indulging me, my heart.” Lan Xichen’s smile was equal parts affection and mischief, as he contemplated just how he might like to be waiting when Laurence arrived. “If it helps, I can assure you that once you arrive, you are unlikely to stay in those robes very long.”
“That does help, though, we could just skip the robe entire.” Laurence had little hope that his final plea would work, and the smile on his face showed it.
“Just once!” Lan Xichen insisted with a laugh. “Let me see you dressed up one time, and I will never make you put them on ever again, I swear to you.”
“Just once,” Laurence agreed, though he privately wondered to himself if that would be the case. Every time he thought he was done with the robes, they seemed to rear up again; especially with the knowledge that he’d be given a second set of robes after these ones had burned up in the sinking of the Allegiance.
He waited until Lan Xichen was out of the room and well down the hall before he began to undress from his regular clothes. He was lucky that he’d had such experience undressing Lan Xichen these last few months, or he was certain he’d have been helplessly lost. As it was, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hair. He recalled that they’d put some ornament in his hair when he’d been introduced to the Emperor, but he had nothing like that and wasn’t sure he’d have been able to style it into anything acceptable anyway, so he allowed it to hang loose over his shoulders instead.
He spent some moments agonizing in front of a full-length mirror, making sure the robe hung right – or as right as it was liable to hang off him, though looking at himself now he was reminded at just how poorly he carried it. Regardless, if this is what Lan Xichen wanted, he’d deliver, and so he pulled his shoulders back, and it was with a degree of put-on confidence that he strode down the hall to their chambers.
The confidence might have been a masquerade, but Laurence had committed to it enough that it absolutely worked. Lan Xichen, who had used the time Laurence spent getting dressed getting undressed down to his under-robe and arranging himself artfully on the bed, was now looking at Laurence like he’d just been given the most delightful gift imaginable.
And why shouldn’t he? It was the first time he’d seen Laurence in anything Lan Xichen naturally recognized as “dressed up.” Even the fact that Laurence was willing to do this just because Lan Xichen asked was exciting. Of course he loved it.
“Oh my…” Lan Xichen breathed, sitting up just a little more to get a better look. “Oh, I am so pleased that I made this request.”
Whatever reservations Laurence had had previously, they were swept away entirely at the look on Lan Xichen’s face. He’d have never thought that a single look from anyone could have fulfilled him so completely, and yet he was sure he would have tried to move Heaven and Earth in that moment if Lan Xichen would only promise to look at him again like this.
“I’m pleased to have fulfilled it, then,” Laurence said, approaching the edge of the bed. “Come here, Lan Huan.”