sheathing the blade

while some of xuanyu’s things i’m still slowly thinking about, under the cut is some info about him!

chaeyul leaves little space for xuanyu to talk, and even less space for him to disagree. he supposes this ugly amalgamation of unspoken words and stifled anger is the consequence of burning bridges when ego gets in the way, like it always does, between the headstrong. but nine years of what he essentially counts as silence coupled with resentful glances across the royal court, and he wonders if there was ever a time where he looked at the other and didn’t feel the wave of bile burn in his throat. 

he shifts. feels the weight of the sword inside the sheath resting against his thigh just to ground himself again, to remind himself to keep breathing and keep both feet on the ground.

“i want to know what your next moves are.” he says, sharply, honestly, corners of his lips twitching downwards into the perpetual half scowl that always seems to rest on his mouth nowadays. “it is not outlandish of me to ask. you’ve been quiet in all the places and during all the times i expected you to be loud, and it makes me anxious.”

confusion mars xuanyu’s face as his brows knits at chaeyul’s words. 

strange that the prince was saying that he was carrying a big sword and swinging it around, when his sword had always been nothing but sleek and slender. 

he spared chaeyul a light glance, never one for the subtleties that the rest of the nobles liked to say--mincing their words behind other’s backs and spreading rumours, whether it was to their advantage or other’s disadvantage. 

it was a cruel thing to master, the corners of his lips slid downwards in a mild frown of displeasure, almost disregarding of the prince’s own warning as he sets his sword back down with a mild exasperated little sigh. 

“it’s the small sword that cuts the sharpest, prince. mine is perfectly balanced. i see no big sword around here apart from the words that you’re attempting to swing at me from your mouth.” he may not like engaging in a war with words like most of the other nobles dabbling in politics were very much inclined to do, but that did not mean that he was foolish enough not to catch the drift behind chaeyul’s biting words. 

somewhere, somehow, he had offended the prince .

which was why they were standing on polar opposites, his sword in hand and chaeyul’s own, both in the form of sharp cutting words and a lack of shared understanding--reaching, but never there.

“do i?” xuanyu responds to his accusation about his inclination towards bloodshed and violence with a slight clench of his hand around the sword, his eyes dropping slightly to shield the myriad of disappointment that slowly burgeoned in the depths of his irises. “sadly, i disagree. clearly, you know me not well enough, despite all of the things we’ve supposedly experienced together. as childhood friends. or whatever--” he waved his hand almost dismissively. “whatever that truly is. sometimes, bloodshed is necessary, but rest assured that whatever blood that is spilt tonight will remain within the walls of a certain manor, never outside either way.” 

it had been but a blip in his memory, a small recollection of the past of a time where a young boy had trailed after his footsteps, and he had been surrounded by the laughter and joy of other children...even if he lacked in understanding of it, he accommodated, and tried to assimilate. however he could, and tried to follow along in whatever he can...before that had been killed alongside his innocence and memory of a battlefield, thrown in with the cavalry by a father that believed in blind faith and sheer luck more than gentle tutelage. 

he’d fought and clawed his way out from corpses and bodies, with flesh and blood in his mouth and rage in his eyes (he remembers losing his sword in battle, the terror and rage of wanting to be alive, then--the decision he made as soon as another soldier charged at him with bloodlust and fear in his eyes. fight. his body had said, tears streaking down his dirtied face as he opened his mouth and chomped down on the man’s neck, like a beast ripping flesh from it’s prey. if you have no weapons nor hands, use your mouth and sink it in flesh.)--and he supposed.

supposed.

that was now what he was in other’s eyes.

a monster made out of carnage and bloodshed. 

baring it’s teeth at the slightest show of hostility, tugging at it’s leash, and drooling with desire for swords against necks, yearning, to feel hot blood spill like a river over his hands. 

the only person that didn’t see him in such a way had problems of her own, locked up in a gilded cage where everyone saw her as a monster, instead of her beautiful soul tainted by the wickedness of the world, just like how he had. 

when chaos ensues, she is prepared. absconding into the rush of disorder and scattering bodies, she makes it as far as the edge of the holdfast. she listens for a sign. chaeseong had not mentioned who he had sent to aid her in her escape, but trust was a peculiar thing. had he wished her dead, he would’ve smite her into a pile of ashes in the catacombs when they first reunited. he would not leave her to die, not when she’d promised him she’d come back.

in the distance, something calls. a beautiful trill; as familiar as it was delicate. a flap of wings overhead. a touch of camaraderie, a sliver of hope. she runs towards her rescue, bursting through the woods like a shadowed wraith with death on her heels.

xuanyu materializes in front of her like a breeze, his voice gentle. chaeyeon’s eyes skim his face, traveling down his body, lingering at his hands. paranoia is a disease and it manifests in the way her mouth twists, setting into a thin line. she covers it with a hand and a brief nod of her head. “you came for me.” fact realized in the steady width of his shoulders, the relieved look in his eyes. this was not a man who wanted her dead. this was a man on her side. she dips her chin in quiet gratitude. behind them, a roar of a dragon shatters the night, leaving chaeyeon shuddering at chaehwi’s fury. she steps forward, wary, hand clutching his sleeve. “we have to go.”

“of course i did.” it seems only natural now, for him to reassure her, wherever her concerns and self-doubts tended to take her. (there was a time ago where he would have looked at the stubborn princess with his own mouth in a downturn, their childish annoyances with each other turned into a

xuanyu watched quietly as she covered her mouth with her hand, a faint tremble in her lips as her mouth twists and her brows frown. she’s a picture of tentative agony, mixed with relief and pressure all at the same time that twists her into a nervous being that he’s become familiar with, in all her strength and all of her weaknesses. 

“i always will.” the flicker of mischief goes out in his eyes, replaced with a beat of solemnness that curves around him like a wall, even as a dragon roars in the distance out of sheer rage, all he can think about is how natural it seems for him to slip behind her and stand guard, as he always has--like a shield, wherever she wished or wanted him to. 

the lights flicker in the distance. wavering lights. like torches in the wind, thirsty for blood and out to hunt. 

we have to go.

there’s a flicker of urgency in her voice that he resonates with, his brows turning into a frown as her hand clutches to his sleeve (his fingers brush her own, a fleeting touch on the back of her hand, as though to reassure her, in all her anxiety.)

“we have to move. now.” the rustle of leaves is crisp in his ears as the rest of his men shimmy down the trees, his eyes falling to his first-in-command briefly as he gave a slight nod, releasing his slight grip upon her sleeve as he moved back, teeth imprinted in a harsh line along his pale lips as the flickering lights draw near. 

at his welcoming, the mute misery on her pale face faded out. a flush of hope came to her then, as it did when she felt she was in good company. these days, she was always in half a daze, as if there were thoughts in her mind she could not shake. she had busied herself so much with looking around his room, letting her curiosity lead her on, that she was late to hear his question. she turned to him, her eyes deep and bright as morningstars. “hm? oh, nothing,” she answered. by that time, she had reached the window and resolved to taking a seat by it. she folded her knees under her and stared out at the sky as she spoke. “i had a bad dream. i was lost in a forest and trees were telling me terrible tales,” she shared candidly, cool night air blowing gently at her face. then, as if it was helpful, she amended, “they had awful faces. they told me—oh—” she turned to him, “i don’t mean to bother you. were you very busy?” she frowned, “i bear no bad news, i promise. i just couldn’t fall back asleep. what’s this about bad news, anyway? did something happen? are you okay?”

"trees? faces?" suddenly, the night didn't seem that drab and dreary anymore. his brow raised, then popped, a sliver of interest flooding over his features as he turned his attention fully towards sayuri, and air of mystified intrigue at her words. “well..bah, it’s just politics. which doesn’t sound as interesting as your terrible tales of forest, trees and awful faces.” he hoped the look upon his face was one that was amiable, trying to school his face into one with mild (non-offensive) interest, before completely giving up and staring at her, eyes bright.

“i wasn’t very busy. it was just...me and my tassel-making.” he waved his hand slightly, partially embarrassed as he divulged his secret past time. “bad news can be about many different things, and i think for one, that your bad news sounds like a tale that i’d like to hear.” he paused, his head lightly tilted as he ruminated for a moment, wondering if he was being--a little too callous. 

she had said that it was a nightmare after all. how did people usually approach this sort of thing again? caught between the complexity of his own confusion and eagerness to hear her words, he reclines back in his chair, puffing out his cheeks in mild exertion of the thought. 

it's a curious question that he has to answer--one that xuanyu admits almost he has never thought of in what would be the longest time (years of his need to fulfill his duty, be it military wise or familial wise). he pauses, giving it a fair amount of thought as he brings his cup of tea to his lips, brows furrowed as the porcelain scalds the surface of his lips slightly.

“ well. would it an answer if i said that i don’t know exactly?” the words that part his lips are hesitant, yet gentle. “ you see, the saddest thing is that...i don’t think i know for myself what exactly is my true, authentic self.” a fragment of confusion perforates his voice, almost beseeching in his answer to the question, as though he hadn’t quiet formulated the right words to speak himself.

xuanyu swallows tightly, throat bobbing as he shifted his weight slightly, discomfort rife in his actions. 

“ and within that problem of not knowing my true self lies in the question, how do i live as my true, authentic self if i don’t really know myself.”  the admission comes like a sort of relief, washing over his shoulders like a flood as he barely lifts his eyes up to meet the other’s eyes. “i guess part of it constitutes as not doing anything against my morals, or things that i cannot reconcile with.” his lips purse, thoughts drifting towards the more macabre details of his various errands. “that’s what i believe is the meaning of living as my true, authentic self. regardless of what people expect of you, what people see of you...as long as you live by the rules you’ve set for yourself and it doesn’t go against what you’ve believed or is anything that you can’t reconcile yourself...that would be living as your true, authentic self.” 

       “ it was certainly difficult to make them let me go. ” the brunette tried to laugh it off but the hint of annoyance in her voice was crystal clear. no matter how many times she had to fight through painful small talk with older nobility, akane would probably never get used to it. “ frankly, their feelings are of no concern to me. ” the grin on her face grew bigger as she spoke, raising her glass of wine ever so slightly, almost like she was speaking a quiet toast. “ you should consider yourself lucky then. people are bending over backwards to get the chance to talk to me and you actually get the chance without having to do anything at all. ”

xuanyu couldn’t help but huff a laugh into his drink at the brunette’s crystal clear annoyance, his eyes drifting towards the young men still forlornly looking their way, half-bridled with anger and annoyance at his appearance by her side. 

“am i?” he gave her a slight side-eye, feeling a slight chill run down his back as his eyes caught hold of one of the young ladies who had been trying to catch his eye for...what seemed like ages ever since he had first introduced himself politely. “perhaps i am.” he teased, relenting to her words with an air of slight mischief. “i mean, after all--you’re a friend that helps chase potential women who want to come my way.” he shuddered slightly, the aversion almost visible as he grumbled into his glass. “i’m still blaming you and chaeyeon for sending any of them my way.” there was almost a petulant pout in his tone of voice. “makes me think that both of you just enjoy seeing my pain, having to deal with ladies coming my way.” 

a subtle look of sheer pain flickers through his pretty face. 

absolutely.

"yes." cool nonchalance flickered in his eyes. "they're inconsequential to me. we're not close at all." his shoulders lift, raise and then shrug. "though i would try to give mother a more lenient or amiable death than the others." his eyes softened at the thought of his mother. she was the one who had tried, no matter how hard it was, to understand him to varying degrees. it had all failed in the end but still--his eyes dropped slightly at the thought, lips tentatively pursed. "i have something that i have to do. so i can't die. yet." he murmured. "otherwise, i also wouldn't mind giving up my own life, since there's nothing much left here that would make me linger anyway." he had no lovers, no close friends apart from the fair few he truly loved. and most of the time, he couldn't help those close friends much, either.

"the world would be a better place with one less emotionally dysfunctional person like me." he gave the person a small, cheeky grin, the corners of his lips lifting ever so slightly. "but to answer your question, yes. if it is necessary, if i have a purpose, and if there is no other way out."

death seemed like the most probable answer--and yet, for someone like him who had been on the battlefield for almost all of his life--it wasn't.

"death of my friends." xuanyu murmured softly, his fingers going towards the sword tassel at his side, grasping onto the ornament tightly with his fingers, the half moons of the jade ornament digging deep into the palms of his hands, as though a little pain would suffice to wake him up from the stupor that this question had sent him into. "i'm sure you'd think that i would say death of myself or my family. but those are...inconsequential." his shoulders lift, a light shrug in favour of his nonchalance towards the idea of death. "but. i am absolutely terrified of my friends dying." chaeyeon. akane. maybe gwanji. he was still thinking on that. hangyul too, for the uniqueness they shared. "i, for the life of me, cannot bear to see them die." he whispered, the slightest tremble in his voice belying his underlying terror and discomfort, tiny yet small. "it's a selfish thing to fear, and there's no doubt that it is selfish of me to fear this-- because ultimately, i would also fear what comes next, since...what will i ever do without them?"

the true answer to his fears lay behind his first answer, like a blanketed undercurrent of certain despair.

so. i just realized that my anons weren’t on TOT  (thank you rie for telling me *wipes tears*) 

xuanyu stared almost belligerently at the question given, a myriad of colours and emotions--from intense confusion, to sheer horror, and absolute panic flooding across his otherwise smiling face in a terrible flood of embarrassment.

"are you serious?" his throat bobbed, frowning as he tried to figure out the motive behind why such a question was asked. “i don’t want to answer this.” a rare slip of childish petulance slips out from his usually unfrazzled stance as he gave a rather violent sigh (which, no one tell him, seemed more like a pout.) “why did you have to make this difficult for me? i feel as though--” he squints, staring at the names against with a nervous apprehension. “forget it. i’ll just answer this and get it over with.” he grumbled, seating himself uncomfortably as he stared at the names with a contemplative squint. “well, obviously the one that i’m going to behead is chaehwi.” he points out with a deep scowl. “why would i not, when he’s all but gone crazy in the head? he’s been burning people and nailing them to their doors. quite an easy choice for who to behead, if you will.” he crossed his arms as he glanced at the next two names, falling into almost muted silence at the other two options. 

god. he was so dead if either chaeyeon or chaeyul heard what he said. should he even explain himself if they did hear what he was going to say? or would that be too...well. he wasn’t going to dwell upon it now that he had chosen to answer, of course.

“bed and wed chaeyeon. as for chaeyul? i’m giving up on that one.” he grumbled, huffing to himself as he felt a sheer amount of mortification turn his ears red at his reply. he gave the person that had given him the question the evilest side-eye he could possibly muster. “it’s fine since i’m more comfortable with chaeyeon anyway. also, i probably won’t get killed by chaeyeon in my sleep compared to that of chaeyul.” he paused for a moment, whirling back around almost violently as he held up a finger, teeth gritted as he exhaled. “and to clarify things, bed means share a bed, do you hear me? sharing. a. bed. i’ll even put a whole row of pillows between us and sleep on the edge of the bed if i have to. this is such a evil question.” he mumbled under his breath, desperately wishing for a hole in the ground to open up and swallow him whole, especially after the words he had spoken. “i won’t even have the say in marrying a royal anyway--so.” he swelled a little more confidently at the thought, all traces of panic finally fleeing from his face. “at least whatever i say now, i know that it isn’t going to be me in the end.” 

god. 

49BG, two hundred and fifty-one in the era of kyoshi,  in the month of the verdant rain moon down in the south.

the south was far different from what xuanyu had imagined in the depths of the evening to the night, though he had little to no time to appreciate the sight before his eyes, waiting amidst the trees and the dark for a particular figure to show whilst hidden amongst the other guards that had committed themselves like he had to this particular mission.

he fidgets quietly, shoulders tense as he wipes them against the roughened fabric of his trousers, lips pursed tightly into a thin line as he narrowed his eyes at the darkening horizon. the instructions had been simple. 

to infiltrate, extract and escort princess chaeyeon, who had been working in secrecy. as to what was the plan that the princess was working on, everything remained unknown. the only thing that they knew to look out for was for the scattering of the guards from their regular posts, and the vague description of where would be they would meet.

perhaps this lack of information was the root cause for his worry, which was why xuanyu had deliberately gone on ahead before hand, reconvening at a later time with the rest of the team after checking around the place and scouting around.

chaeyeon. xuanyu felt his heart tighten in his chest at the thought of her possibly being in danger. after all--they weren’t able to do anything beyond waiting for her to appear at where they were supposed to meet. getting out of the youngest prince’s holdfast? that relied entirely on the princess herself, and despite his knowledge and confidence in chaeyeon’s own abilities, there was a part of him that was still...inclined to worry.

oh how he wished that he had the ability to take away just a fraction of her burdens and worries. she had always seemed too burdened with them, as though the whole world laid upon her shoulders as if it had been written as something fate had pre-destined--a world where she was never to be happy. and he--he had never seemed to be able to help her out with them, even for the least of her problems to begin with. 

his fingers brushed against the bird whistle that he had carved back when he was her bodyguard--there had been two, one of her, and one for him (he remembered the wide-eyed delight in her eyes when he had brought the baby bird for her to raise, the challenge that had lit the fire in her eyes when he demonstrated how to train the little bird to his whistle commands. and then--each little test they did to see if they could possibly send messages to each other, even whilst carefully observed.) --and a fond smile graced his lips, turning the corners of mouth into a fleeting smile, before he turns his eyes back towards the now darkened horizon, clinging to every thought and hope of seeing the princess successfully escaping to their meeting place. 

his ears pricked as the sound of warning bells tolled in the distance, and the faint dots of torches that were of guards making their rounds vanishes from a pinprick to complete nothingness. 

if chaeyeon was to escape, now would be the best time.

quickly, he lifted the whistle to his lips, a bird’s soft call to it’s brethren trilling in a low note from the beautifully handcrafted whistle--ever so familiar to his own ears. 

he sees the bird in the distance first, the swoosh of it’s powerful wings as it answered to his call, and then...the familiar hooded figure of the princess, hurrying along the slippery path as she made her way towards their pre-arranged meeting place. 

thank god she made it out. relief washes over xuanyu like a tidal wave, and he quietly slips from his spot on the tree--an unusual course of action in comparison to his usual touch of discretion and secrecy. i’ll go meet her. he murmured to his subordinates, shimmying down the trunk of the tree as he made himself known to her from the shadows...lingering as though having waited for her right there, for hours, in place. 

it’s been a long while since xuanyu has seen prince chaeyul.

maybe...give or take six or seven years? the number blended together in a manner that he no longer cared to count, the little memories of a much more innocent, younger self with the sang family siblings and their cousins blurring into nothingness in favour of being the current person he is now--with that cool, calculated outlook that he had in life, strengthened by the experiences he had under his father’s tutelage. 

or maybe, non-tutelage.

he barely remembered admiral zhao being much of a parental figure in his life after all.

xuanyu mused to himself, brows knitted slightly as he pondered over what to say exactly to the prince’s face, now that he had caught him at the most inopportune moment, swords in hand and a nonchalant expression set across his face. the swords lift for a moment as he adjusts his weight, the slight cant of his head as he contemplated the pros and cons between explaining what it meant for him to be carrying around his sword on the night that it was declared house sang had escaped with the traitorous youngest prince. 

drastic or not, some things had to be done. even if it was not the best option.

a slight tick of annoyance clicks sharply from between his teeth, the very thought of what he would need to do later drawing his ire as his thoughts shifted towards minister sang, and the word from his confidants that his father had seemed a little more than just suspicious with his movements.

gathering their forces? whispers for their men to secretly bring their arms? what the hell were they even thinking? it didn’t take much to guess exactly what they were aiming to do, even without an explicit order from the house that they had sworn fealty to. he would have liked to take things a little slower, perhaps even plan out a perfect plan that would make even the smartest of them all proud...but there was just not enough time.

war was brewing in the horizon. he could feel that much, having lived on the edge of his sword for most of his life. bloodshed would happen, whether he liked it or not, and he was not about to let himself or anyone related to him to be caught up in the game of thrones on the wrong side of the board with the wrong play. 

and so he decides to pretend. both for his sake, and for the prince standing on the bridge before him, eyes flickering and hands kept behind his back, a slight nod of his head to his subordinates that brush past him without ever looking back.

he tilts his head slightly, calm and composed, yet with the slightest mask of confusion obscuring his gently smiling face. 

below the cut is the update on the events that happened to both house zhao & xuanyu!

~~~

50BG,  thirtieth of the red wolf moon , two-hundred-and-fifty in the era of kyoshi -- 

admiral zhao receives orders & call to arms from minister sang, for them to follow her into battle against the royal family in a form of a letter that never reaches him. 

the letter is snatched from his hands and torn into pieces, and admiral zhao’s eyes widen, bulging as his eldest son scatters the letter and it’s contents to the wind.

the gates of house zhao’s mansion groan as they close, the rush of muffled screams and feet fill the air as the yuyan archers eradicate any servant who would be a house sang loyalist.

admiral zhao, lady zhao & xuanyu’s siblings are escorted to their rooms, where they remain under the watchful eye of xuanyu’s confidants. 

a letter, penned by xuanyu is sent in response back to minister sang.

house zhao will no longer respond to house sang’s beck and call.

and the night falls silent once more.

---

even after years of being in the military, xuanyu never feels comfortable when he arrives at the capitol prison to visit gwanji. the stones seem to burn with intense heat beneath his feet as he enters the tower, a slight cant of his head towards the prison guard as he makes his way through the dim lights...and towards the cell where he knows his friend has spent many years of his life, paying for a choice that he made. 

kidnapping a princess. and chaeyeon at that.

he had balked when he first heard of the news in the barracks years ago, stitching together a tapestry of mottled flesh on his body from the latest charge with the cavalry. sweat stung his eyes and blood glimmered in his teeth, his fingers trembling as he gripped his sword and squeezed. gwanji? no way. a laugh of disbelief had huffed from his lips, followed by a quick silence, the news sinking in as he narrowed his eyes and contemplated--the thought of his friend being capable of doing something akin to a kidnapping was almost unfathomable--no, jarring even. (memories of gwanji’s fingers pinching his cheeks to pull it up into a smile as he folded his arms and squinted back at him juxtaposed against the knowledge of the gwanji’s crime. the kindness that remained in gwanji’s eyes that never gave up on the twisted nature of a creature like him.) 

but people changed even within the shortest timespans, he knew that. afterall, he was a living proof of that. 

xuanyu’s hands rested against the pommel of his sword, just as he always did when deep in thought, and wrapped in intense worry. a frown etched itself deep into his forehead, his lips pressed together thinly as he sucked in a breath through his teeth, the slight musky scent of the cells assaulting him as he tightened his grip on his sword and stepped into the dim light flickering before gwanji’s cell. arms crossed, and fingers worrying harshly against the sharper edge of his sword’s sheathe, as though some pain was a good enough distraction from the nervousness he felt growing deep inside his belly.

it had been years since they had met. years--of him slaughtering in fields, his feet treading over masses of bodies--and at times, back to back with chaeyeon, their names wreathed in blood, trust and faith whilst gwanji lay here, locked in like a gilded bird in a solid cage.