sorrowandsorrow | Open Post: Welters

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Open Post: Welters

It's probably been noted before, but Janet's not actually dumb. The people of this mansion are varied and mercurial. They're not like Fillorians, some of whom are little bitches but who were largely cow-eyed and willing to accept her authority just because she was a pretty girl from another world.

So. She has to win people over. Maybe everyone needs a little fun to take their minds off things. Conveniently, welters is absolutely Janet's idea of fun. There's a bunch of insane rules, violence is encouraged, and you win if you're good at magic and being bossy.

The mansion grounds are also a little tempestuous as to their character, but apparently the master magician toying with all their lives is feeling charitable today. She's found a big, flat stretch of undisturbed grass, and she's sketching out welters squares with a piece of chalk.

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Obviously that's not possible. Luo Binghe can't think of why not right now though, so he just scowls and drains his second glass. The drink has lost some of its complexity now, to his impaired tastebuds, and all he tastes is bitterness.

Janet bites back another laugh. He looks like a giant mastiff whose owner has told it to go sit in the corner: big, dangerous, and sulky.

"Why don't we switch? Come on, this is what you're supposed to have for girl talk." She shuts the liquor cabinet, concentrates for a second, and then manages to pluck a chilled bottle of rosé on her next attempt.

Luo Binghe has never seen this beverage either.¹ Queen Janet is giving him the full tour of her world's spirits. She hands him a glass; it turns out to be as pink as a peach blossom², with a mildly sour, yeasty flavor. The wine doesn't sting his throat like Janet's old-fashioned drink. Instead, it warms him from the center of his chest, making everything soft and woozy around the edges.

"What about at the mansion?" he says, thinking of Shen Qingqiu. "Has anyone drawn your interest here?"

¹They had grape wine in ancient China, but Luo Binghe is from Stupid Fantasy Ancient China, where they only have the most cliché Ancient China-seeming stuff.
²See? Now that's a xianxia-appropriate reference.

"Sir Sagramore is pretty handsome," Janet says with a grin as she sips her own glass of wine, "among other things." That's the closest she'll get to overtly kissing and telling to Luo Binghe of all people. "That Nightingale guy is kind of hot, too. What, is that why you just realized you're gay? Did you see some man here and get slapped with a realization?"

"No." If that were true, it would be Claudius, and Luo Binghe is not even going to entertain the question. "It was someone I met before. But I had been trying not to think about it, because of... the logistics." Shen Qingqiu, or whatever the name is of the spirit who now inhabits him. Scolding Luo Binghe for getting injured, before dressing his wounds with a worried little frown, as though every hurt to Luo Binghe hurt him too. Then shoving Luo Binghe away when he noticed—what? Luo Binghe still cannot guess what small detail gave it away. How could that Shen Qingqiu tell there was something wrong with him?

"But there was this book, in the library—did you see it? I hate that book. All blank, but it would tell you one secret pertaining to—something that might upset you, I think. I only saw what it said to me, which was—you understand." He tries to think through the wine haze. "Who is Nightingale?"

"Nightingale? Older guy, British. The accent's a little sexy. He can do magic too." Janet laughs, tipping her glass to watch the light filter through the pink of the wine. "Sorry, a book told you you're gay? But you already liked some boy from before you came here?"

Like is too prosaic a word for it. What he felt—feels—deserves some of the poetic splendor that has been dedicated to his victories in battle. "I was given a glimpse into another world. Not like this place. It was another version of my own reality, where the other me was—in an intimate association with a man. They were..." Incandescent, and horrifying. "Very affectionate. That's what made me think... And after I returned to my own world, I tried everything to return to him—to steal him from the other version of myself." Distantly, he might be aware this aspect of the story doesn't reflect well on him, but it doesn't seem important. "But I couldn't. My wives and my closest advisors grew tired of my obsession. I grew tired of it myself. In time, I grew to think I would not see him again, and I tried to put it out of my mind. But he is here, in this mansion. Do you see why I would think this a test? He did not exist at all in my world—there was no counterpart to him. But he exists here."

He traces the rim of the glass with the tip of his finger, moody. "Being here, with him—it will ruin me. It makes a mockery of me, of my life, my accomplishments. All the time I spent building my empire—thrown away on one man? It reduces everything I have, all my glittering treasures, to fool's gold, and I the fool. I wanted to resist it, but I lack the strength. Janet, he is unmaking me."

"Whoa," Janet says. This feels pretty woefully inadequate, but for at least a couple beats there, it's really all she's got. Janet's pretty sure she's never felt this way about anyone, of any gender, in any circumstances. Like, she and Eliot are a unit -- but not a he is unmaking me kind of unit.

She clears her throat and busies herself sipping rosé to buy time. Then she says, "Look, I'm not a romantic. Seriously not a romantic. I can't give you good advice on this. But do you actually like your empire? Does it, I don't know, make you feel all gooey inside? Or does... this guy?"

He knows the answer, but he can't think of the words to articulate it. Or maybe he just doesn't want to, because he suspects if he says it out loud—and the alcohol is making it feel so easy to say out loud—it would sound pathetic. Because of course it doesn't make him happy. There's never been anything that makes him happy. But his empire satisfies the things the younger Luo Binghe wanted. Until he was twenty-two, he had never in his life slept in a real bed. His palaces, lands and wives are there to compensate for that, not to make him happy.

If he were talking to Nina, he would find a way to express this. But he's starting to suspect that he might regret being so free with his thoughts later, when he stops suppressing his powers. "You are a monarch yourself. Could you give up your kingdom for one person?" He laughs bleakly. "I'm sure you've guessed who it is. His charm and beauty outshine anyone else here."

"Two things." Janet holds up two fingers demonstratively. Okay, she's a little buzzed, but Luo Binghe seems way worse off.

"One," she starts, "I have no idea who it is. Sagramore is my favorite man here, but the competition isn't super stiff. Two," she continues, "I couldn't give up my kingdom for one person. I love Fillory. It's stupid and impossible and right out of a nerd's wet dream and I love it anyway. I love it way more than I've ever loved the idea of being with someone like that. But I'm not you."

She's obviously just pretending she doesn't know it's Shen Qingqiu, but he appreciates her letting him save a little face by not saying it. Sagramore is a handsome and appealing man, and Luo Binghe has thought of him often since they met, but there's no contest.

But just as she says she can't imagine feeling the way he does about Shen Qingqiu, he can't imagine feeling the way she does about her throne. He doesn't love the demon realm; it was just the place he was able to gain power. It seems everything he's ever done has been a horrible mistake. He pushes the wine away and puts his head on the counter in despair.

Oh, geez. Luo Binghe is so... big and handsome and muscly. Janet didn't think she'd be able to outdrink him.

Awkwardly, she gives him an incredibly reluctant pat on the shoulder. "Buck up," she says, "or something. Hey, you're still the emperor." Of a place he can't get back to, but that's not likely to be helpful.

Luo Binghe doesn't move. "Does it matter?"

"Fuck if I know." Janet laughs, tiredly. "You're the emperor of nothing and I'm the queen of nothing, as long as we're here. Isn't that why we're drinking?"

"Mm." He knows she's trying to cheer him up, but he doesn't want to be cheered up. He wants to think about how terrible his life is and try to picture Shen Qingqiu's smile. "This was supposed to be about how much I hate Claudius."

"We can still talk about that if it'll make you feel better." Janet finishes her glass of wine, but it seems like that's a good place to stop for the night. "Let's see: Claudius is slimy and creepy and has horrible vibes. Better?"

"No," Luo Binghe says with a sigh. He needs to sober up. It's easier to do so than to stay drunk, anyway. He releases his hold on his healing powers, and his blood cleanses itself of alcohol within a few moments.

He sits up, shaking his head a little to clear it, which makes his hair go everywhere. As he suspected, in a sober light it is clear he's been making a maudlin fool of himself. At least Janet was understanding; she really would make a good wife, if not for his condition. "That's better. I rarely drink."¹

¹This is the non-apology. Even more non- than usual.

Janet looks at him, her chin in her hand. She's still tipsy, so she thinks for a second what a shame it is that he's gay and also came onto her with the worst pickup lines she's ever heard. She'd probably let him fuck her, once. Oh well.

"I can tell," she says. "Did you just--? That's a neat trick."

"Demon blood." Others can do it with cultivation, but Luo Binghe's human spiritual cultivation is a mess.

Despite how mortifying Luo Binghe's emotional display was, Janet was sympathetic. Luo Binghe's biggest concern is that she might tell Shen Qingqiu, or anyone else. He has no idea who her friends and allies are in the mansion. He wants to confirm that this will stay between them, but saying it will just reveal that she has leverage over him. Better would be if he could get her to reveal something she wouldn't want to get out. "We've spoken of our hearts, and of Claudius. Is there anyone else here you don't trust?"

"Who do I trust?" Janet says dryly. That's not totally accurate -- she's getting there with a few people. But everyone starts at the same baseline of guilty until proven innocent. "My number one shadiness suspect aside from Claudius has to be Jasin Natael. I couldn't tell you what his deal is, but I know there's something weird about him."

"Who?"

Janet narrows her eyes at Luo Binghe. "He's got a harp and, like... an ascot? Is that what that's called? Fancy neckwear. He's always creeping around."

"Oh, him." He was in the library, with the cursed book. "Thinks a lot of the sound of his own voice."

Come to think of it, Luo Binghe was humiliatingly maudlin with him, too. What is wrong with him? He already knows his weakness is being overly sentimental, and while he hates people knowing it about him, his moods often loosen his tongue. At his palace he can contain this side of himself and release it only in the right company. Here, he is foundering. Maybe it's best he leave Janet alone and take himself somewhere else, before he reveals any more embarrassing secrets.

That makes her laugh again, at least. She could tell Luo Binghe about Joar Addam, really throw Jasin under the bus, but she still has that instinct to hang onto everything juicy she's learned. "Yeah. I don't dislike him as much as I dislike Claudius, but I don't trust him at all."

"I'm glad to hear your thoughts, Queen Janet." He sighs. "I should retire to my rooms. I think neither of us trust easily, and therefore cannot part as close allies, but I've enjoyed your company." He thinks back to their first meeting, and how Janet ended it by extending her hand to him. Likely a Fillorian custom. He does the same to her now as a gesture of respect.

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