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Summary:

What brings Lan Xichen out of seclusion is a child.

Notes:

This is the first time I've written fic in, wow, literal years. Anyway... for the Untamed Fall Fest on tumblr, Day 8. Happy Birthday, Lan Xichen!

Edited to fix my uncle mistake. <3

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It is not a grand revelation which brings Lan Xichen out of his self-imposed seclusion. His grief does not dry up overnight, nor does his guilt stop eating at him like flies on too-ripe fruit. All of those things remain, and he still continues to feel lessened and unworthy of his place, of his titles. 

As it turns out, what brings Lan Xichen out of seclusion is a child. 

It is still early when he hears heavy footfalls outside. He ignores them at first and stares blankly into his tea. He hasn’t been tasting it, not really, everything has been consumed perfunctorily and only because he promised Wangji he would look after himself—it is the very same promise he had procured from Wangji during his own seclusion, when he was being eaten by his own guilt and grief. He cannot ignore, however, the rapid-fire knocks against the door or the call of his own name. He sighs. 

“Zewu-jun! I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to bother you. Lan Zhan said not to, but it’s an emergency.” 

The word emergency sets him on his feet. Images of his own father refusing to leave his seclusion while the Cloud Recesses burned around him flash through Xichen’s mind. He opens the door to find Wei Wuxian about to knock a second time. The sheepish expression that paints his face is relieving; there is obviously no true emergency. As Xichen studies him before permitting his entrance, Wei Wuxian shifts around nervously on the porch and readjusts the bundle of blankets he has nestled in his arms. 

Xichen raises an eyebrow in question. 

“Lan Zhan is away with the junior disciples and normally I would go with them, but I was away doing a thing with Jin Ling and I got back later than I was expecting and—anyway. I need a second pair of hands, you know? Because, it’s a bit complicated. I mean, more complicated than anything I’ve dealt with before. And with Lan Zhan gone, and the kids… Well, there is no one left here who likes me besides the baby Lan disciples. And I think their hands are probably too small to help.”

Wei Wuxian punctuates his spiel with a self-conscious laugh and rubs a finger over his nose. “Not that you, uh, like me. But I thought you might still help.”

His words break Xichen’s resolve to send him away to find help elsewhere. He wonders how Wangji would feel, knowing his husband considers himself so wholly disliked in the place where they make their home. He knows his brother, and he would likely pack up and leave the Cloud Recesses with his husband in tow. No ones wants that, least of all Xichen. 

“I like you just fine, Wei-gongzi,” he says, and he finds nothing but truth in his statement. He steps to the side, allowing his brother-in-law entrance to his home. 

Before he can close the door behind them, a golden Jin messenger butterfly flutters inside and up to Wei Wuxian. A lump lodges itself in Xichen’s throat. That is not something he had expected to see in the Cloud Recesses again, nor had he wanted to. 

Wei Wuxian smiles and it looks like an apology. “Oh, there’s Jin Ling now,” he says. He  struggles with the bundle in his arms, looking from the butterfly to the bundle and back again. The butterfly is getting insistent, fluttering against Wei Wuxian’s face. “These stupid butterflies,” he mutters. “They’ll bash themselves into the side of your head until you acknowledge the damn things.” He looks down at the bundle again and then nods decisively. “Um, here.” And he leans forward and hands off the bundle to Xichen. 

Xichen nearly drops it in shock. The blankets part and a tiny face pokes out. It coos up at him and blows a spit bubble. “Wei-gongzi! This is—This is a child.” 

Wei Wuxian ignores his panic. “Ah, that Jin Ling. Always pretends to be so tough but he’s already checking on me to see if I got back all right. So much like Jiang Cheng. Is that a case of nature or nurture, do you think? Like say with Sizhui—he’s so polite and kind and thoughtful. Would he have always been that way, or did he turn out so great because he was raised by Lan Zhan? And you as well, Zewu-jun. He told me he spent a lot of time with you as a child.”

Wei Wuxian smiles at him. 

“Wei-gongzi!”

“Hmm?”

Xichen lifts the baby minutely and widens his eyes. “This child?”

“Oh, right. She’s mine! I gave birth to her.” He laughs at his own joke but his laughter peters off quickly at Xichen’s narrowed eyes. “Aiya, you didn’t fall for that like Lan Zhan, huh? Fine, fine. Well, I kind of found her? We were interviewing the locals about a nearby haunting and she was living with a midwife there. Poor thing—both parents dead. Her father died before she was born and then her mother giving birth to her. The midwife was struggling, what with her own duties and children. And I thought, Lan Zhan loves babies. He should have as many babies as he wants, you know? So I said I would take her. Once I told the midwife my husband is Hanguang-jun she practically threw the baby at me. If I was even more shameless than I am I would namedrop Hanguang-jun far more often. People give me so much free stuff. Wine and food and little trinkets—”

“And babies?” 

Wei Wuxian lets out a breathless laugh like it surprises him. “Ah, Zewu-jun. You and Lan Zhan are both so funny. Who knew Lans could be so funny?” 

Xichen ignores him to focus on the problem at hand. In his hands. Currently. He should probably give it back to Wei Wuxian because it’s starting to wriggle and squawk at him. He knows nothing about babies. How is he meant to help? Even the smallest disciples with their tiny hands would be better than him. “What about a wet nurse? You can’t just bring her here without…”

“Oh, she can eat solid food. Also, milk. So, um, we have a goat now.” He looks sheepish again. “Apparently I am determined to populate the Cloud Recesses with all sorts of animals. Haha, but look, she has some itty little teeth.” 

He pulls the child from the blanket swaddle and lifts her so she is facing Xichen. She stops her irritated squawks and stares at him, mouth open and big, dark eyes blinking slowly. And then she smiles. She is the most adorable thing Xichen has seen since he was presented with his own tiny brother. “Cute, right?” Wei Wuxian says. “Lan Zhan is going to melt into a sappy puddle of goo.” 

Melting into a puddle a goo is exactly what Xichen feels as though he himself is doing. He reaches out to take the child again. Wei Wuxian had said he needed an extra pair of hands after all. “Let me. You must be tired from carrying her all this way.” 

The smile Wei Wuxian gives him is pleased. He places the baby in Xichen’s arms and then wipes the drool from her mouth with one of the blankets. Inside her mouth Xichen can see that she does in fact have several tiny teeth. They bite into the fabric of the blanket and she grumbles. It almost sounds like a kitten’s growls. “Be careful with your fingers near her mouth. The midwife said she’s teething. She bites.” 

“Oh dear,” Xichen says. Is it normal for babies to bite? Is there something wrong with this one? 

“Aiya, it’s fine, it’s fine,” Wei Wuxian says. He waves his hand in the air. “Her little teeth aren’t so sharp.” As if that clears everything up. “And as soon as Lan Zhan gets here, he will make her stop. They all just listen to what he says the first time he tells them.” 

Xichen is amused and gratified by Wei Wuxian’s faith in Wangji’s abilities, but even Wangji has never dealt with so small a child. Babies probably don’t follow rules. 

The baby grumbles and starts smacking one tiny fist against Xichen’s shoulder. 

“Okay, you’re hungry again, I get it,” Wei Wuxian tells her. “No need to clobber your poor bobo. He’s only just met you, give him a better first impression.” Wei Wuxian shakes his head at the baby. He looks up at Xichen and sighs mournfully. “She eats all the time,” he says. “And barely ever sleeps. Barely ever.” 

Then he plops himself down at the low table and begins removing a multitude of small dishes from the bag he has slung over his shoulder.

Bobo. Even Lan Sizhui had rarely called him by the name when he was small. But every time he had, Xichen had felt a spark of warmth in his chest. He had always wished Sizhui had been comfortable enough to continue with the title. But alas, once he had started training with the other disciples he had stopped calling Xichen bobo altogether. 

This time he will insist on it, he decides, looking down at his new niece as she gags herself on the corner of her blanket. He pulls it from her mouth with a cringe and she squawks at him, her brow furrowed. “Sorry little one,” he says in a quiet voice. “You are going to hurt yourself.” She blows another spit bubble. 

“What’s her name?” 

Wei Wuxian continues to mix food in the dishes. “She doesn’t have one yet. The midwife gave her a milk name, but she said she didn’t feel right naming her when she knew she couldn’t actually raise her. I’ll let Lan Zhan do it. He’ll pick something good.” He holds up a small bamboo spoon with a smile. “Do you want to feed her? You don’t have to—she gets the whole room messy when she eats, so I can—”

“I will do it.” Xichen sits her up in his lap and reaches for the spoon.  

She does in fact get food everywhere. Maybe Xichen should care about the indignity of a sect leader with clumps of congee drying in his hair and spit and milk on his robes, but he can’t seem to stop smiling. 

Wei Wuxian laughs as he cleans the food from the downy hair’s of the baby’s eyebrows. “Little one, you are a mess,” he says. Her eyes blink slowly up at them. “Thank the gods, she’s getting sleepy.” 

She falls asleep in Xichen’s arms. He rocks her slowly, humming a song his mother used to sing to him when he was a child. He runs a hand over her soft cheeks. He can’t recall when he last felt so content, so at peace. He almost wishes Wei Wuxian would leave her here, but he knows he will soon want to head back to the jingshi and await Wangji’s return. When Xichen looks up from the baby to ask him, he finds Wei Wuxian himself fast asleep, curled up by the table and snoring quietly. 

 

~0~ 

 

The next time Xichen sees his niece, she is with Wangji.    

“I know you have met her already, and I am sorry for disrupting your seclusion, Xiongzhang. It felt right to introduce you formally, as she is your niece.”

Xichen smiles. “You’ve chosen a name then?”

“Mm.” Wangji runs his fingertips softly over the baby’s dark hair. “Lan Xing.” 

“A good name. You must have been surprised to find her with Wei-gongzi when you returned home.” 

The corners of Wangji’s mouth turn up; his eyes are soft and happy. It makes Xichen’s heart glad. He must remember to thank Wei Wuxian for this and many other things. 

“Wei Ying is very good at surprises,” Wangji says. He leans forward and kisses the baby on the forehead. “Would you like to hold her?”

Xichen does. They sit in the quiet for awhile, watching as she snoozes in his arms. 

“Your happiness is a balm to my soul, Wangji,” Xichen says as Wangji readies himself to take his leave. And for the first time in many years, Wangji reaches out and grasps Xichen’s hand. 

“You will get there, Xiongzhang. I once thought I would never— It will be better.” 

Xichen squeezes his brother’s hand and thinks perhaps. 

 

~0~ 

 

A week later Wei Wuxian comes back to see Xichen with little Lan Xing is tow. His entire countenance screams desperation. 

“Do you think you could maybe watch her? Just for an hour. Well, let’s say two or three hours. At least.” He holds the baby out towards Xichen. “If I don’t spend some alone time with Lan Zhan I’m going to kill myself.” 

Xichen takes the baby. She giggles and immediately starts babbling and gnawing on her fist. 

“Don’t tell Lan Zhan I said that. Gods, I should know better than to make that joke. It makes him so upset.” Wei Wuxian scrubs a hand over his face and forces a laugh. “Who knew orgasms were the only thing keeping me sane? Too bad I didn’t figure that out in my last life, right? Hahaha, I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

Xichen decides he should probably save his poor brother-in-law from himself. “Wei-gongzi, it’s fine. Please go spend some time with Wangji. I will watch A-Xing.” 

Wei Wuxian falls all over himself thanking him, then bows deeply and books it out of the door. “No running in Cloud Recesses.” Xichen calls after him in a teasing voice. 

He props the baby up on his arm and walks her around the room. “And what should we get up to, little one?” he asks. He receives a gurgle in response. 

What Xichen finds is that little A-Xing, more than anything, enjoys simply being spoken to, regardless of the subject matter. He goes through half a volume of poetry and recites hundreds of Lan Clan disciplines (the ones he finds most important, though he would never tell his uncle that he considers some rules more important than others). She is even happy when he threatens to add a new discipline to the wall in her honour (thou shalt not bite bobo). 

When she finally falls asleep after a meal of mashed vegetables and rice, Xichen realizes he hasn’t had a single negative thought since Wei Wuxian brought her to him. He rests his eyes, her small, warm body against his chest, the two of them breathing in tandem.

 

 

Wangji comes to retrieve his daughter after several hours. The tips of his ears are flushed and there is an angry red mark under his jaw that looks vaguely mouth-shaped. 

“Apologies, Xiongzhang,” he says. “Wei Ying should not have disrupted your seclusion. He won’t do it again.” 

“Wangji, I—” He looks down at the sleeping baby in his arms. “I really don’t mind. I find it peaceful, having her here.”

Wangji watches him for a moment. “Do you want me to bring her more often?” 

Xichen turns the idea over in his head, and finds it pleasing rather than stressful. “If it wouldn’t be any trouble for you. I don’t wish to keep her from you.”

“I have meetings every morning while Wei Ying teaches basic talismans to the novices. Would that be too often?”

Xichen feels a wide smile break across his face at the prospect of a daily visit. For the first time since he returned from Yunping, it doesn’t cause him even the slightest pain. 

 

~0~ 

 

Five months go by like this, A-XIng being left by Wangji or Wei Wuxian every morning, a few hours that brighten all of Xichen’s days. She grows in front of his eyes, begins to scoot around the hanshi on her bottom and destroy anything he isn’t quick enough to remove from her ever-widening reach. Xichen holds her hands and helps her practise walking until his back aches from stooping over and he loves every minute of it. 

One morning Wei Wuxian says, “She took her first steps without us holding her, right into Lan Zhan’s arms!” And Xichen feels pride, yes, but also disappointment. He wasn’t there to see. He should have been there to cheer her on. “And then,” he continues with a laugh, “she took off running right at Sizhui. We are all in so much trouble now!” 

With a wish of good luck, Wei Wuxian leaves A-Xing in Xichen’s care. She is already struggling to get down from his arms. 

A-Xing runs the length of the hanshi, back and forth, back and forth. And then she does it all over again. Xichen tires just watching her. 

It must be a bit of a bore for her, just Xichen’s rooms instead of the world outside. She would probably much rather run in the forest or pester Wangji’s poor rabbits. Just as Xichen is contemplating taking her to the garden behind the hanshi, A-Xing bumps into the sword rack and falls on her behind. 

Her lip pops out and begins to quiver—a sure sign of an impending meltdown. Xichen rushes over. “You’re fine, little one. All fine.” 

“Bobo,” she says and then wails, lifting up her chubby little arms towards him. 

Xichen scoops her up, staring into her watery eyes. “What did you say, Xingxing?” 

A-Xing sniffles at him, her crying stopped, and then shoves her face under his chin to wipe her tears and snot on his neck. 

She had said it though, there is no way he misheard. His niece had said his name. And if she had spoken a coherent word before that surely one of her fathers would have told him about it. Xichen turns to tell someone, anyone, that his baby niece just said her first word, but there is no one to tell. He is alone with A-Xing as he has been every day for months, preluded by months of no one but himself. It feels wrong, suddenly. He feels trapped, smothered, impotent. And he wants to bring the news to his brother himself. He wants to tell Wangji and Wei Wuxian. And Sizhui and Shufu and—

He kisses the top of A-Xing’s head and leaves the hanshi for the first time in more than a year. 

As he walks through the Cloud Recesses he receives bows and smiles mixed with incredulous looks. He must appear half-crazed, thin and hollow in his plainest robes. He hadn’t even put his hair up properly—it is simply tied half back with a small ribbon, no guan to be seen. He hasn’t worn it out in public in such a way since he was still a child. 

No one comments on his hair or his sudden appearance when he bursts into Wangji’s office and hurriedly closes the door on the stares he can feel at his back. 

“Xichen?” Wangji stands from behind his desk. 

Wei Wuxian is closer. He reaches Xichen first and looks his daughter over as if for an injury. 

“She is fine,” Xichen says. “She took a little tumble, but she is unharmed. But she—she spoke.”

Wei Wuxian laughs. “Sometimes her noises sound like words, but nothing real yet.” 

“No, she did this time. She said—” Xichen looks down at A-Xing. She has a fist full of his hair and is moments away from shoving it into her mouth. “Who am I, Xingxing?” He points to himself. 

She grins and bites on his hair. Xichen tsks at her and pulls the hair from her grasp. Her brow furrows. “Bobo,” she whines, and makes another grab for his hair. 

He lets her take it, barely noticing when she tugs too hard. He is too busy watching for Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s reactions. 

They do not disappoint. 

Wangji rushes over with a delighted smile on his face. Wei Wuxian claps his hands together. “I guess we know who your favourite is, ah, little one?” 

Her favourite, Xichen thinks. At the back of his mind a voice that sounds like Shufu says, “do not be prideful.” Today, just today, Xichen decides he is going to ignore that voice. Today, for a moment, he will allow himself. Today as he is surrounded by his family. Today as his little brother smiles at him, full of what looks like relief, and leans a head against his shoulder. Today, as Xichen leans back against him. 

“Bobo,” A-Xing says again, and she tries to shove her parents away.

Today he is A-Xing’s favourite.