#ofxing

    It was a true testimony to the focus with which he was assigning the papers in his hands that he did not hear the approach of his wife- though truth be told, the delicate woman tended to move with such waif-like motions anyway that perhaps he shouldn’t honestly berate himself for that right now. No, he should have sensed her by her Ki, and for that oversight he had no excuse. It was becoming late- far beyond it, perhaps- and his wife had just saved him from what would have been a particularly sore neck and shoulders should he have remained hunched over his low-lying table for a few hours longer. For that, he greatly appreciated her interruption.

    The tiny, somewhat self-berating smile that had ghosted across his lips faded a moment later, however, when he sat up to properly catch sight of the girl for the first time in what must have been almost an entire day. Any tinge of guilt he might have felt was immediately overrided by the uncomfortable twist of his stomach at the implication of the clothes she wore.

              Ah. He’d been wondering when this would happen.

    Eyes that were perhaps a tad too scrutinizing flit briefly over her fragile form- from her doe-eyed face, down the slender line of her throat, to the gentle swell of breasts beneath thin material, to her hips, then back up to those nervous eyes- and then they fell once more to land upon the paper before him. There was nothing but nervous obligation within every inch of her form, and he was not the kind of man to take from someone under such circumstances, married or not.

    “I will retire soon enough; there are a few last matters I wish to attend to before turning in.”

--- It was a rejection. She knew that well. He wanted her to go back to their bedroom and wait. But he would wait so long she would have fallen asleep by the time he arrived. At least, that is what she suspected. Their bed was so enormous there was never a need for them to touch at all. It was as though he was afraid to touch her. Or perhaps repulsed... But she didn’t think that was the case. Wherever she might have gone wrong, it was not her looks. She saw the way he looked at her standing here, in the doorway.

   She decided to be brave, bare feet padding across the wooden floor and towards the low table he was sat at. She peered over his shoulder at what he was looking at. Her almost sheer gown billowed a bit from a breeze the half-open window provided. It gave certain, well-needed coolness to the summer-heated room. The soft fabric of her sleeve stroked along his shoulder and neck as she reached out; gentle fingers running along the nape of his neck and squeezing his shoulder. She shouldn’t touch him without his permission. But then.. He was her husband. 

 “I’m not explaining this again,” The fact that his voice had risen slightly in it’s pitch, one hand gesturing outwards as though it would help to emphasis his words or even provide an outlet for the exasperation that was written plain as day on his face, wasn’t purposeful but it was noticeable nonetheless. The worker, at least the one in earshot, wasn’t exactly subtle in her efforts to listen to this stranger talk to himself about why exactly leather was a fundamental part of a wardrobe. Either way, whether she overheard or not wasn’t exactly any concern to Greed. He had important matters to tend to. 

 One way or another he was going to get this body to his satisfaction. It may not have been ideal when he first took claim, but he was flexible and it wasn’t like he was against finding them a more satisfactory outfit- if not for the fact that he was accompanied by an ever present peanut gallery. 

 “No cutting my hair!” This, and “Those are too tight.” that. 

 Ling was picky for someone who had willingly taken on a humonculi as his, what, soulmate? Body buddy? Whatever. Beyond that the prince seemed alright, they’d come to a bit of mutual ground after some of the memories came flooding back and he was reminded just why he hightailed it on the the rest of the sins. They were buzzkills, all of them, and he had no intention of furthering anyone else’s gain in the world when he still had so much left to claim. Sticking with this body, potentially gaining control over a whole country- that was fine and dandy for now, but his ambitions were higher then just that. He’d figure something out along the way, but as for the moment he had priorities. 

Warmth. She was suddenly enveloped in warmth. Peeling the blanket from off her face, Mei peered up at the young man before her, the new soon-to-be Emperor of Xing, her brother. She had never had a close relationship with any family members (though, in youth, she had tried and failed) and often wondered what it would be like to have a proper sibling (one that didn't try to kill you while you slept...).

"Thank you but... what use do I have for you, Yao Ling?"

“Really? You?” He hadn’t meant for the words to sound so incredulous, but, well, smoke and ash and the violent crackling of wood weren’t exactly sensations he would have thought to associate with his delicate wife. She was too…soft for such things. Too tame, like an indoor cat sheltered from the wilderness of its own backyard. Even bringing her here- to Resembool, the location of his best friend’s wedding- had felt like uprooting a flower from its garden and depositing it without care into the middle of the Amestrian boondocks.

    But still, she seemed to be taking things in stride, and for that he was actually rather proud. He’d feared that she, raised in propriety among the finery of Xingese high-class culture, would be unable to handle the rugged folkness of the little sheep-farming village, but her words and her expression and even her posture told him that he’d been wrong. He took comfort in in that, and turned his face back towards the flickering flames of the campfire that he, his wife, and a great many of the invited friends and relatives had gathered around as night fell. He didn’t think he’d felt this calm- this happy- in a long time.

    “They are rather nice, are they not?”

--- “Yes, me indeed.” She allowed soft laughter to sound privately between them. “Though before tonight I had never experienced something such as this, it is beautiful. Fire has always been something of a dangerous ally. Though we need it, it has also the potential to be indomitable and dangerous. But like this, in the darkness, its light and warmth are so welcome. People gather and bring food. They dance.. It is simply a wonderful experience.”

     She did feel like a lily amongst tulips. Not in any way more beautiful than the others there, but so obviously different. Her emperor had soon donned his more casual attire upon arrival, but she had failed to pack anything very informal. As the emperor’s wife she could not allow a bad reputation, and as such, she sat, legs neatly to one side and her hands folded in her lap. In all her royal glory. Flowy robes, shining jewellery and headdress.. Out of place indeed amongst these warm, open people. Though they certainly treated her and her husband with respect, they were also immensely friendly, their address of them was not practiced nor had it had any underlying intention. They were simply.. Friendly. and Wen Yue found that it was a breath of fresh air not to have to get involved in proper politics.

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“Oh.” She cannot decide whether she is disappointed or not, though she certainly sounds like it. It sounded like one of her stories, after all. The immortality, the fighting. Some sort of magic catalyst to make it all happen..

“So it was all a lie, or good politics?” She asked softly. “Does it exist at all..? Immortality? They say the sage of the West is immortal. They say he is still out there.” That is what the people like to believe in any case. But then, they also like to make up other stories, legends, and to idolise certain animals or objects for good luck. Wen Yue never really knew whether she should believe in that kind of thing.. Although she did adore her parents’ croaky calico cat, Lim. They were said to be the luckiest cats of all. 

It had amused her, at first, when the young emperor had started showing off. Doing acrobatics off of benches, running along a wall for the longest time he could manage, then braving the tall wall wrapped around the palace’s gardens. She had been walking below, watching anxiously as he balanced himself on the thin expanse of brick.

She did not underestimate his skill, but even so, her stomach rolled uncomfortably when he announced he could make the jump from one end of the wall, over the opening that allowed one to enter the park-like gardens, to the other end. It was a far leap, and though she had seen just how acrobatic her betrothed was, the mere thought of him plummeting to his death because he attempted a move she believed was meant to impress her had her filled with dread.