acrookedpath | [pfsb] happy halloween!

The glittering eyes -- like diamonds, like frost -- narrow.

Keep it, he echoes. For how long?

Surely, the voice implies, Lan Wangji is not really asking what the Black Rabbit thinks he is asking.

"I am not sure how it came to happen," Lan Wangji tells him. "It may only be a spell for one night. I would only ask that it not be ended early under your influence."

Ah.

The Black Rabbit settles back on its haunches, still regarding Lan Wangji.

It won't, he says, calmly, as long as we do not meet under moonrise. El-ahrairah told your friend as much, didn't he? (It is not a question.) I cannot take Hawthorn to join my warren -- he is human, after all -- but the dead are the dead, Moonlight. It will not be comfortable for him, or his sister, to stand in my presence.

“No,” he manages, through a throat that is tight at the thought of this rabbit stealing Wei Ying away. “It would not.”

He makes himself draw a careful breath. “Would it be safe for them to visit the ocean inlet? That is some distance from where we stand. What would you ask, to make it so?”

An interesting question, muses the Black Rabbit. It cocks its head; the shadows around it seem to stretch longer. You came to speak to me so you could protect Hawthorn. Do you trust me to protect him?

No, he cannot help but think, and can only hope that the Black Rabbit cannot read his thoughts.

“El-ahrairah told the story of how he came to bargain with you,” he says, instead. “And from that I conclude you are a being of honor. What you say, you will do.”

The Black Rabbit chuckles, a little, like the creak of a rotted tree about to come down.

That is not a 'yes.' But very well. The Black Rabbit flicks its whiskers. Here is my offer: Hawthorn and his sister can walk the grounds like every other night. I will keep them from harm. But you...

A spark flares and dies in the Black Rabbit's eye.

The light you carry within you, that you use to protect so many? I will pinch that out until the moon sets.

Involuntarily, Lan Wangji looks up at the sky, where the silver light of the moon pours down over him. He can feel the thrum of his golden core within him, can feel the fear at the thought of being without it, helpless to defend himself or others, followed by bitter shame at the fear.

He closes his eyes for a moment to draw a deep breath, then looks at the Black Rabbit.

“I agree.”

Very well, says the Black Rabbit of Inlé once more.

The shadows that form its body break apart, swirling down into ribbons of ink. They circle Lan Wangji's feet, rising higher, and higher, up to his waist, then his chest, then blotting his vision entirely as --

It feels like a gust of wind rattling through his ribcage. It strips away the vestiges of heat that still cling to his insides.

And like a candle snuffed, the power of his golden core winks out.

He holds still, makes himself hold still, makes himself not resist—

—-and then everything inside him goes dark and empty and cold. He staggers, going down hard to one knee, and feels the sharp pain in his leg and his hand where both meet the rough ground.

Gritting his teeth, trying and failing not to shiver at the icy cold, Lan Wangji struggles to his feet and looks back at the fence post where the Black Rabbit was.

Slowly, he raises his hands and bows once more.

The shadows sweep away from Lan Wangji, coalescing into the Black Rabbit sitting atop the fence post. The glimmer in its eye looks almost... pleased.

You are a brave one, Moonlight. Another soft laugh. Until moonset, then.

And the blackness dissolves, taking the weighty presence with it.

It has been some time since he has felt this vulnerable. When Cloud Recesses was burned and he was taken as prisoner by Wen Xu, perhaps; when he was helpless to save Wei Ying, although in both cases it was not a lack of his own internal strength that was the cause for his failure. This is different; this is a sense of weakness and fragility. Perhaps the closest he has come to it recently is when lying wounded and delirious on the stone bed of the cave, waiting to see if he would live or die from his punishment.

As he thinks it, he can feel new aches stabbing through him, stemming from the cruel lacework of scars across his back, as on the very worst days when even breathing causes pain.

It does not matter. Moonset is not so many hours away, after all. He has made his choice, and now what remains is to see that Wei Ying and Jiang Yanli are able to benefit from it.

His jaw sets hard as he makes himself move, ignoring everything else as best he can. One foot in front of the other, then again, striving to move as normal so that Wei Ying will not be alarmed, he returns to the inn and crosses to the table where Wei Ying and his sister sit waiting.

"He is gone," he murmurs. "You will be safe where you wish to go."

Wei Wuxian, deep in conversation with his shijie, looks up and brightens at Lan Zhan's approach.

"Wonderful!" He jumps to his feet, catching Lan Zhan's hand and drawing him into a quick kiss. "Lan Zhan, you're the best. Shijie, let's go!"

There is a whole new world still to be explored, now that they have time!

Lan Wangji's tiny smile is warm and gentle. Seeing Wei Ying's joy brings peace to his heart. He has done the right thing. He can endure this for a few hours; it is not so bad as all that.

"Where are we going?" Jiang Yanli asks, half-laughing as she rises to her feet.

"The flowers," says Wei Wuxian decisively. "It is beautiful there -- you will love them."

He starts for the back door.

She glances at Hanguang-jun, who bends his head to her in a stiff nod, and follows her brother toward the door as the other man moves to follow behind her.

The breeze outside is chilly, but not unseasonably so, she suspects, and there is no sign of anything unusual that she can tell. Still, she looks to A-Xian to check.

Catching Jiang Yanli's look, Wei Wuxian grins. "Don't worry, shijie," he says. "If Lan Zhan says it is safe, then it is safe. Remember? Lying is forbidden."

He laughs, and leads the way toward the glass house just visible in the distance: a speck of light, silver and gold, as the moonlight reflects off the glass and the electric lights within burn bright.

"Mn."

He follows after them at a slower pace than his usual, trying to ignore how each movement spears pain through his back, desperately hoping that he has not made a grave error by taking the Black Rabbit's word.

Moonlight silvers the ground and air around them as they go, but the only cold is a normal late-autumn chill, he thinks. There is no abnormal shadow, no bone-wrenching cold, and he breathes easier.

Unthinking, Wei Wuxian keeps pace with Lan Zhan, and it is only when they're halfway to the greenhouse that he realizes how slowly they've been walking.

Huh. Perhaps Lan Zhan is tired? It must be past hai hour by now. He makes a note to stop by Madam Bar for tea when they return.

As they reach the bright, wide expanse of the glass building, Wei Wuxian pulls open the door so his shijie can enter first.

She walks inside and stops still with a gasp of delight. The glass house is filled with softly glowing lights and bright flowers - including roses of all colors and sizes that she has never seen before.

"It's beautiful," she breathes.

Ah, he knew she would love it. Wei Wuxian cannot stop beaming; he slips inside, holding the door for Lan Zhan as well. It's much warmer in here, and the slightly damp air teems with the scent of hundreds of kinds of flowers.

"It's like the library, isn't it?" he says. "We could spend days upon days inside and only see a fraction."

He passes through the door after Wei Ying and takes a moment to be deeply grateful for the warmth as Jiang Yanli brushes her fingers over the petals of the nearest flower. He lingers near the entrance, where a small space has been made for repotting and planting, and listens in quiet as she exclaims in pleased surprise at the different things she finds.

Half-hidden by the other plants, a fallen log rests in the dirt. Curious, Wei Wuxian kneels down to take a better look -- is it part of another plant that has died? -- and his eyes widen.

"Shijie, look!" he whispers gleefully.

What he thought was ordinary moss under the lights of the greenhouse shifts when his shadow blocks the way. All at once, it begins to glow, little tendrils uncurling as if to emerge from hiding.

She kneels beside him, eyes bright with interest, and gasps softly with wonder at the sight. "They're like tiny stars," she murmurs.

"It's so beautiful," he whispers. Raising his voice as he looks over his shoulder, "Lan Zhan, come see!"

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