thesilentdarkangel:

thesilentdarkangel:

thesilentdarkangel:

thesilentdarkangel:

thesilentdarkangel:

thesilentdarkangel:

Guardian fic attempt 1

Elegant fingers was plying the strings of a guqin.

The player’s features was empty of expression. Fair like the most exquisite of jade, craved with perfection.

Though the melody was that of a familiar song, known to everyone with a Haixing ancestry, it was however imbued with a strange melancholy, deep and helpless, tugging at the feelings of any listener.

The sorrow and yearning, cried out by this instrument, sung of truths that the young gentleman carefully hidden from view. Only now, in the relative privacy of a solitary pavilion within the lavish gardens of the Dixing Envoy’s embassy compound, that he dared to unfold a glimmer of his emotions. Pouring all into the wooden guqin placed upon the polished floor in front of his folded knees. His back remained straight, posture impeccable, even as his hands danced with abandon upon the guqin.

A storm had raged fiercely, leaving devastation within his soul. Only his eyes, crowned with charming lashes unfairly long, gave hint of the unhappiness within.

His identical twin entered the structure, kneeling carefully behind the musician, and encased his elder brother in a hug. Hooking his chin on his brother’s shoulder, the younger of the two began to softly hum, a jarring counterpoint to his twin. An old folk ditty from their Dixing motherland.

Faced with such provocation right next to his ear, the musician’s fingers left the guqin. “Ye Zun,” he softly chided, turning to face his mirror image.

His little brother smiled an unrepentant grin, familiar and so comforting. For a moment, Shen Wei felt as if they were back at the Palace, still in the safekeeping of their old guardian the crafty Lord Justice. Giving in to nostalgia, Shen Wei sighed and rested his forehead against his twin’s. Ye Zun lowly complained that he “preferred your drum playing, our clan’s energetic beats, rather than this slow nonsense!”

Shen Wei chuckled. Ye Zun never took to any Haixing culture with grace. That he agreed to forgo the Dixing mode of dressing was already a great concession. There were even tantrums thrown on the day their clan beads were combed out of the twin’s intricately braided hair, as they exchanged their customary Dixing robes for Haixing’s garments.

A gentle breeze flew by, playing with the unbound half of the brothers’ long tresses, styled in the common Haixing fashion meant for unmarried youths. The ticklish sensation of unbraided hair flying against their faces broke the moment and their embrace.

Pushing the guqin out of the way, Ye Zun threw his head in his brother’s lap, forcing Shen Wei to change his seat, the better to accommodate his twin’s antics. They had always been close, such behavior was nothing out of the ordinary for the openly affectionate Ye Zun. The only difference between him and the politely reserved Shen Wei.

Grabbing Shen Wei’s left hand, Ye Zun grumbled at the reddened marks left by the sharp strings of the guqin on his twin’s fingers, before launching into a litany of complaints, strings of grievances against the current Dixing ambassador tasked with hosting the twins. Shen Wei felt his face broke into a helpless smile at his brother’s bratty deportment.

He knew that Ye Zun was trying to distract him from the encroaching despair that was haunting Shen Wei.

With each sunset, his wedding —sight unseen— to the sole heir to Haixing’s Grand Duke Zhao Xin Chi, the famous young Lord Guardian Zhao Yun Lan, grew nearer.

…•…

Crouching on top of a wall, three young gentlemen was trying their level best to catch a glimpse of the Dixing nobleman betrothed to their good friend and ringleader Zhao Yun Lan. Accompanied by one apathetic guide, the son of the diplomat who’s courtyards they were intruding.

One hapless soul, the innocent Guo Chang Cheng was pressed to be the lookout, despite his many protestations and teary eyes.

“Old Chu, which one of them?”

Lying on his back along the wall, eyes closed and head resting on folded hands behind him, Chu Shu Zhi carelessly answered, “They’re identical twins. One face is as good as the other.”

He was soundly shushed for his pains.

“Lower your voice!”, one baby faced individual hissed. “Old Chu, you might be safe from the swords of your father’s guardsmen, but we’re not!”, another one added, his normally cunning face twisted with anxiety.

Their leader, too busy focusing his questing eyes towards the secluded pavilion, choose not to admit the inadvisable nature of their antics.

Zhao Yun Lan refuse to be wedded to a groom —no matter how prestigious— sight unseen, traditions and superstition be damned.

Guardian Fic Attempt, Part 2

Perhaps it was a stray breeze that carried their voices beyond sight, perhaps it was the cracking of tiles burdened with unaccustomed weight, or perhaps it was the sharpness of Zhao Yun Lan’s intent gaze.

Both of the twins froze and, in an eerily synchronized move, turned accurately towards the interlopers.

In a flash, a few throwing knives thudded home into the wall, right where those young Haixing aristocrats were huddling. Sunlight glittering on their edges. With a yelp, two of the trio tumbled down and scrambled to get away. Leaving one apathetic son of Dixing diplomat to continue with his sunbathing and one newly appointed Lord Guardian standing his ground and seizing the opportunity to meet with his mysterious future groom.

Smirking a significantly bloodthirsty expression, Ye Zun slowly rose from his brother’s lap, twirling a throwing knife between his fingers.

“Didi, remember what we promised to Lord Justice,” Shen Wei cautioned.

“Don’t worry, Ge. There won’t be a diplomatic incident if there’s no body to be diplomatic over.”

Guardian Fic Attempt, Part 3

Unfortunately, there was a diplomatic incident.

Zhao Yun Lan, unsure of the identity of his attacker and not wanting to accidentally maim his own fiancé, chooses to return the strikes he received from Ye Zun in an exaggeratedly careful manner. Softening his stances and turning aside the full potential impact of their exchanges. And as per his manner when facing an unexpected opponent, his lips was jokingly running full tilt with his usual stock of flirtatious words. Each of his sentences either begun or ended with a variation of praises on the charms of his sparring partner.

Da Qing and Lin Jing simultaneously facepalmed. From a safe distance, of course.

Chu Shu Zhi, still on the wall, was content with shouting out critiques.

Ye Zun, recognizing the way that he was being handled, was incensed at the perceived disdain from someone who was clearly a capable fighter. This snooping young lordling was pulling his punches, as if Ye Zun isn’t capable of answering his blows! To one from the noble House of Gui, widely acknowledged as one of the best pugilist in his motherland, this was a slight that could not be tolerated. Can’t this moron tell what skill it took to not kill someone in a blow when each of his attack was meant to be a singular death strike?

When his ears finally caught up with the nonsense that was sprouting from that smarmy mouth, his irritation ignited to honest fury.

The fight turned into a brawl, with Ye Zun chasing after Zhao Yun Lan all over the place.

Passersby —attracted by the noise of the fight— alerted the nearby station of the Capital Guardsmen. Who then arrived with alacrity. To witness the young Lord Guardian in a spar was a great treat to these enthusiastic fans of the popular Zhao clan. The Grand Duke, veteran of countless battles, was held with high esteem by all those who served to protect the nation and everyone shared great hopes and pride for his sole heir.

The cheerful nature of these patrolmen changed when they finally got to the scene.

Hapless Guo Chang Cheng was cowering by the walls of the Dixing embassy. Too scared to move. His crimson and burgundy attire, paired with elaborate golden embroidery and a gilded crown on his head, instantly proclaimed his identity to all. The fight between the Lord Guardian Zhao the younger and this unknown youth took on a different story.

Even the most illiterate beggar can tell you that there stood the Dowager Empress’ eldest grandson, in mortal peril.

With a shout the guardsmen surrounded the two fighters, a ring of spears appeared with grim determination. The sole survivor of the decimated MuShi Wangfu must be protected!

Because the plot bunny decided to go back to the depths of Dixing motherland ……here’s a cover?

Guardian Fic Attempt, Part 4

“Didi, please step back.”

A clear voice broke into the commotion, during a lull in the standoff between the two combatants, metaphorically taking in the deep breath before the plunge.

One half of the fighters surrounded by a forest of spears abruptly changed his tack and nonchalantly shrugged, appearing to be as if he’s out on an extremely boring stroll. A noble gentleman that wasn’t —just seconds ago— doing his level best to take Zhao Yun Lan’s head.

Nonplussed, everyone was searching for the owner of the voice, and taking cue from the strange youth in silver and grey, they looked up towards the walls of the Dixing embassy. Another copy of the miscreant opponent of Lord Zhao the younger was standing up there, with his white and azure robe fluttering in the wind. Exactly the same, down to the shape of their brows, and yet completely, unmistakably different.

If the one in silver was a smiling demon incarnate, sent to sow chaos amongst mortals, then the one in azure was an icy celestial, descending to taunt hopeless human infatuation.

A few of the more green patrolmen were openly gaping at the sight. Those of the more “seasoned” ones just coughed or made some other small movements to get a better grip over themselves.

And then with nary an effort, the gentleman on the wall floated down whisper-soft as a willow leaf blown by the wind. As his garments settled down from the controlled flight, a subtle display of qinggong mastery, he walked towards the amassed crowd who hastily put away their sharp implements and parted to make way.

Lin Jing whistled with admiration. That kind of presence, a silent command that expected and compelled instant obedience only came from those who had spent years in power, or those who was bred with them.

‘There comes a time in a man’s life that you just have to admit that sometimes there are humans too pretty to be considered real’, Zhao Yun Lan philosophically thought to himself. And hoped really hard that it’s this one that he’s betrothed to, instead of the devil in front of him. Wedding night might get a bit troublesome if otherwise.

“Touch a single strand of his hair, and I shall slay each and every single last of you.”

The threat, delivered by such a soft expression and a cultured voice, was such a whiplash to those present that they were rendered speechless. Zhao Yun Lan dearly wished to restart today. Ignoring them, the azure gentleman then turned around towards Guo Chang Cheng and gracefully apologised for “the sudden fright” before holding out a hand towards his brother. He swiftly flew away —with his twin in hand— into the embassy before anyone could gainsay a word.

“What… just happened?” one brave guardsman piped out, right before a side door to the embassy banged open and Dixing soldiers poured out, sabers rattling, like an overturned jar of bees.

The captain of the embassy’s forces, beard bristling with agitation, stomped over and loudly demanded an explanation.

Guardian Fic Attempt, Part 5

Madam Zhao had her son kneeling in the family altar chamber until her ire was satisfied. His body aches afterwards.

The Grand Duke had Yun Lan overseeing the monthly patrol rosters as well going over the budget for both their household security forces and also the capital patrol. His fingers cramped up from all those writing and calculations that he had to do and Zhao Yun Lan swore that his sight went cross-eyed for a while. His brain hurt.

Being summoned to an audience with the emperor was, in comparison, an evening stroll. It also helps that —next after Guo Chang Cheng— he was a favourite of the Dowager Empress, who was present in the chamber.

Armed with his usual bullshitting and sweet talking, he got out of the meeting fairly intact.

However, he did not escape unscathed from the second meeting with his prospective husband.

That very same evening.

Meeting that beautiful pair of eyes across the street as he was about to be dragged over the doorways of the capital’s foremost flower bower, all Zhao Yun Lan could think about was,” … well, fuck.”