windlion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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sid_guardian2019-05-05 04:58 pm
windlion) wrote in sid_guardian2019-05-05 04:58 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Black Rainbow (Gen)
It’s not the first time they meet, but it is once more than Shen Wei thought would ever be possible. It won’t be the last.
A quick little thing for mer-May and attempting to get into writing Weilan (and actually posting again). Not confident enough to come up with a name for Kunlun's anonymous incarnation here, so suggestions are welcome!
He’d always been a strong swimmer. The water didn’t care.
Falling. His stomach turned as light as his limbs went heavy, his heart hammering in his ears through the roar like dragons. False calm blanked his thoughts as he turned his head into the buffet of the wind and spray, struck by the incongruous beauty of the blue sky and mountain spires that would likely be his last sight.
Beauty never lasted. The calm shattered upon the rocks below; white spray and froth swallowed him before he could even see the rounded molars of boulders he’d be ground upon.
Impact. Cold water, tumbling, fleeting flashes of heat where flesh and bone struck rock.
Light and fury turned to dark, muted pressure, and as suddenly as the vise grip of the river had seized him, he was released. He’d never been the kind to face death blindly, so he opened his eyes into the gloom. Sunlight filtered through the water from high above, illuminating bubbles floating away.
And hanging suspended in the water overhead, a silhouette of long, sinuous curves, like a dragon in the sky. It didn’t even occur to him to panic. Instead, laughter shook him. He knew he would never die a boring death. His involuntary bubbles floated upwards, sweeping past the shape of the dragon’s head as it darted down towards his outstretched hand.
Instead of fangs, the flash of white resolved into ivory-pale skin, the dragon’s mane a cloud of silk framing clean lines that should have belonged to a painting in a palace.
Ahh, so his last sight in this life would be of beauty after all.
He woke to sun warm on his face and the certainty that he was being watched. Considering he was still alive, stretched out on his back on what felt like thick grass, that was a marked improvement over the previous situation. He was missing his armor and weapons, stripped down to cloth that was drying quickly in the breeze. He risked a furtive glance through his lashes, catching a glimpse of the riverbank and long green grasses moving as something pale ducked back into the water like a shy otter.
Ahh, a shame; he’d wanted another look. His rescuer had stayed to see him awaken, though, and that was promising. He made a show of stretching and slowly waking up, subtly testing his body for injuries. He felt… a bit tired, some lingering soreness, but remarkably well for a man who’d been swept downriver a kilometer or two before a legendarily tall waterfall. His clothes looked a bit worse for the wear where he recalled hitting branches and rocks, but the skin underneath it was intact.
Not just rescued, healed. He scanned the area, taking in the river bank, the gentler flow of water at the river bend, the copse of trees that would shield him from view from a distance. No signs of people. He could still hear the waterfall itself, a roar that rumbled steadily in the background, and he thought he might hear a bit of rustling still.
He slowly propped himself up on his elbows, pitching his voice to carry, low and friendly, “I survived the falls. This must be a miracle. I wonder what deity I owe my thanks to.”
Now that he sat up, he could see his boots were sitting next to him on a flat rock, then the armor laid out neatly to dry, and his weapons on the other side. Easy to find but out of immediate reach, and closer to the water than to him. So: benevolent but not too trusting. He approved.
A man’s voice answered him from the grasses, closer than he thought, “You would know of miracles, Kunlun-jun.”
His eyebrows shot upward. In a story, this would be where the hero would easily claim the legendary name, to trick further favors out of the gullible spirit, until the hero was able to steal away with its treasure. Or its head. That seemed like a poor way to repay the favor. "If you were fishing for gods, I’m afraid you’ve caught something much smaller. I’m just a man.“
"But you are Kunlun.” Stubborn, his savior, and sharp about it.
He laughed, shaking thick hair out of his face. “An easy mistake to make, I’m sure.” He pushed himself to his knees, sweeping aside the grass so he had a clear view of the water. "I’m just me.“
To his elation, the beauty didn’t retreat, and stayed where he was braced on his arms against the river bank. With moon-pale skin, lithe lines, and a wild sweep of ink-black hair, he was a lovely vision of a court lord from the waist up. And from the hips down… He had been close, thinking dragon. That was definitely a sweep of iridescent black scales vanishing into the water, with a flutter of fins that reminded him of long black sleeves in silk so thin as to be translucent.
As much as he stared, the beauty stared back in bold challenge, close enough to touch.
He waited. He would wait as long as he needed to.
At last, the name came. "Shen Wei.”
A quick little thing for mer-May and attempting to get into writing Weilan (and actually posting again). Not confident enough to come up with a name for Kunlun's anonymous incarnation here, so suggestions are welcome!
He’d always been a strong swimmer. The water didn’t care.
Falling. His stomach turned as light as his limbs went heavy, his heart hammering in his ears through the roar like dragons. False calm blanked his thoughts as he turned his head into the buffet of the wind and spray, struck by the incongruous beauty of the blue sky and mountain spires that would likely be his last sight.
Beauty never lasted. The calm shattered upon the rocks below; white spray and froth swallowed him before he could even see the rounded molars of boulders he’d be ground upon.
Impact. Cold water, tumbling, fleeting flashes of heat where flesh and bone struck rock.
Light and fury turned to dark, muted pressure, and as suddenly as the vise grip of the river had seized him, he was released. He’d never been the kind to face death blindly, so he opened his eyes into the gloom. Sunlight filtered through the water from high above, illuminating bubbles floating away.
And hanging suspended in the water overhead, a silhouette of long, sinuous curves, like a dragon in the sky. It didn’t even occur to him to panic. Instead, laughter shook him. He knew he would never die a boring death. His involuntary bubbles floated upwards, sweeping past the shape of the dragon’s head as it darted down towards his outstretched hand.
Instead of fangs, the flash of white resolved into ivory-pale skin, the dragon’s mane a cloud of silk framing clean lines that should have belonged to a painting in a palace.
Ahh, so his last sight in this life would be of beauty after all.
He woke to sun warm on his face and the certainty that he was being watched. Considering he was still alive, stretched out on his back on what felt like thick grass, that was a marked improvement over the previous situation. He was missing his armor and weapons, stripped down to cloth that was drying quickly in the breeze. He risked a furtive glance through his lashes, catching a glimpse of the riverbank and long green grasses moving as something pale ducked back into the water like a shy otter.
Ahh, a shame; he’d wanted another look. His rescuer had stayed to see him awaken, though, and that was promising. He made a show of stretching and slowly waking up, subtly testing his body for injuries. He felt… a bit tired, some lingering soreness, but remarkably well for a man who’d been swept downriver a kilometer or two before a legendarily tall waterfall. His clothes looked a bit worse for the wear where he recalled hitting branches and rocks, but the skin underneath it was intact.
Not just rescued, healed. He scanned the area, taking in the river bank, the gentler flow of water at the river bend, the copse of trees that would shield him from view from a distance. No signs of people. He could still hear the waterfall itself, a roar that rumbled steadily in the background, and he thought he might hear a bit of rustling still.
He slowly propped himself up on his elbows, pitching his voice to carry, low and friendly, “I survived the falls. This must be a miracle. I wonder what deity I owe my thanks to.”
Now that he sat up, he could see his boots were sitting next to him on a flat rock, then the armor laid out neatly to dry, and his weapons on the other side. Easy to find but out of immediate reach, and closer to the water than to him. So: benevolent but not too trusting. He approved.
A man’s voice answered him from the grasses, closer than he thought, “You would know of miracles, Kunlun-jun.”
His eyebrows shot upward. In a story, this would be where the hero would easily claim the legendary name, to trick further favors out of the gullible spirit, until the hero was able to steal away with its treasure. Or its head. That seemed like a poor way to repay the favor. "If you were fishing for gods, I’m afraid you’ve caught something much smaller. I’m just a man.“
"But you are Kunlun.” Stubborn, his savior, and sharp about it.
He laughed, shaking thick hair out of his face. “An easy mistake to make, I’m sure.” He pushed himself to his knees, sweeping aside the grass so he had a clear view of the water. "I’m just me.“
To his elation, the beauty didn’t retreat, and stayed where he was braced on his arms against the river bank. With moon-pale skin, lithe lines, and a wild sweep of ink-black hair, he was a lovely vision of a court lord from the waist up. And from the hips down… He had been close, thinking dragon. That was definitely a sweep of iridescent black scales vanishing into the water, with a flutter of fins that reminded him of long black sleeves in silk so thin as to be translucent.
As much as he stared, the beauty stared back in bold challenge, close enough to touch.
He waited. He would wait as long as he needed to.
At last, the name came. "Shen Wei.”
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THANKS FOR SHARING IT!
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(Seriously I got used to Tumblr’s lack of interaction so I am having a culture shock moment)
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*furtive looks in both directions*
Falling back ungracefully to a more comfortable seat in the grass, the man who was definitely not Kunlun waved dismissively, “I try not to make a habit out of it.”
Shen Wei huffed, aggrieved. “Try harder. You may not be so lucky next time.”
“Ah, but I didn’t have much choice.” That had been the better part of fifty men on the bridge, and as much as he might boast he knew damn well what the outcome of that battle would have been. It had almost been worth the whole ride downstream, just for the expressions on their faces when he vaulted the side. "I’ll just have to make sure I have something better than luck next time.“
Shen Wei folded his arms, somehow managing to look dignified while half-reclined out of the water. "Which is?”
“A plan.” The man paused, thoughtfully, “Or an army. I’d take either.”
“Kunlun–”
He tsked and shook his head, “Ahh, not Kunlun! ”
Shen Wei leveled a look at him that said he wasn’t making a very good argument otherwise. "You mean to tell me that you used the river to escape your enemies.“
"The good news is that they’ve got to think I’m already dead.” He grinned, cheerfully gesturing at the waterfall, “Who would survive that?”
If he kept his head down getting out of the area, he might have weeks before anyone knew otherwise.
Shen Wei’s lips pressed into a flat line. “There hasn’t been any significant fighting upriver in the past few weeks.”
“You’re right, but how would you know?”
“There hasn’t been any blood in the water.” Shen Wei’s face and human form held perfectly still, but he saw a wave in the water that spoke of the great tail shifting fitfully below the surface. Dragon, he thought again, but then there were the river catfish that were known to be man-eaters once they were big enough, and a creature the size of Shen Wei… His new friend could eat many men indeed.
He considered the pale pink lips and the smooth white shoulders thoughtfully. That might not be such a bad end.
Shen Wei folded his arms, somehow managing to look dignified while half-reclined out of the water. "Which is?"
"A plan." The man paused, thoughtfully, "Or an army. I'd take either."
"Kunlun--"
He tsked and shook his head, "Ahh, not Kunlun! "
Shen Wei leveled a look at him that said he wasn't making a very good argument otherwise. "You mean to tell me that you used the river to escape your enemies."
"The good news is that they've got to think I'm already dead." He grinned, cheerfully gesturing at the waterfall, "Who would survive that?"
If he kept his head down getting out of the area, he might have weeks before anyone knew otherwise.
Shen Wei's lips pressed into a flat line. "There hasn't been any significant fighting upriver in the past few weeks."
"You're right, but how would you know?"
"There hasn't been any blood in the water." Shen Wei's face and human form held perfectly still, but he saw a wave in the water that spoke of the great tail shifting fitfully below the surface. Dragon, he thought again, but then there were the river catfish that were known to be man-eaters once they were big enough, and a creature the size of Shen Wei. . . His new friend could eat many men indeed.
He considered the pale pink lips and the smooth white shoulders thoughtfully. That might not be such a bad end.
Re: *furtive looks in both directions*
I loved the snark and then this:
but he saw a wave in the water that spoke of the great tail shifting fitfully below the surface. Dragon, he thought again, but then there were the river catfish that were known to be man-eaters once they were big enough, and a creature the size of Shen Wei… His new friend could eat many men indeed.
He considered the pale pink lips and the smooth white shoulders thoughtfully. That might not be such a bad end.
So evocative and sensual, dangerous and sexy. YUM.
Re: *furtive looks in both directions*