For Wei Ying
Apr. 5th, 2020 05:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lan_wangjiLan Zhan cannot stop staring at the paneling. Wei Ying's sketches, while beautiful, did not do justice to the finished product. The carvings soothe an ache in his chest for home, for something of Gusu that is not tied to the myriad of painful memories the place now holds. The renderings of home with the inlay of lotus for Wei Ying's own complicated and much missed home make this place seem more their's than even the oversized, frankly indulgent bed tucked behind a sliding screen.
It is cruel that Lord Turgon disappeared right as he had finished his work on their home and Lan Zhan regrets he had not been more profuse with his thanks.
He will try not to make that mistake again, taking for granted what they have. This will be their first, official night in the new house. He'd moved the last of his belongings from his room and has spent the rest of the day organizing their few possessions into an orderly system he has no doubt Wei Ying will undo, immediately. Their kitchen lacks many of the modern conveniences of Odinhaus but he prefers it, prefers its familiarity. There is a pot of stew simmering, red and rich with spice for Wei Ying's first night and candles lit and scattered throughout the house. The evening is mild and the doors thrown open to allow the fresh air to circulate.
He thinks he has never loved a space so much as this, not since the last time he'd said goodbye to his mother in her own home. It feels like home in a way he was not aware a physical place could. It feels the way Wei Ying feels to him.
It is cruel that Lord Turgon disappeared right as he had finished his work on their home and Lan Zhan regrets he had not been more profuse with his thanks.
He will try not to make that mistake again, taking for granted what they have. This will be their first, official night in the new house. He'd moved the last of his belongings from his room and has spent the rest of the day organizing their few possessions into an orderly system he has no doubt Wei Ying will undo, immediately. Their kitchen lacks many of the modern conveniences of Odinhaus but he prefers it, prefers its familiarity. There is a pot of stew simmering, red and rich with spice for Wei Ying's first night and candles lit and scattered throughout the house. The evening is mild and the doors thrown open to allow the fresh air to circulate.
He thinks he has never loved a space so much as this, not since the last time he'd said goodbye to his mother in her own home. It feels like home in a way he was not aware a physical place could. It feels the way Wei Ying feels to him.
