when has nie huaisang done things to truly earn his brother's pride? such a rare admission, and one that he feels that he hasn't earned. it's bittersweet; he has done so many terrible things, all in the name of vengeance and justice. he won, but the victory felt overly hollow. killing jin guangyao let his brother rest, but it didn't bring him back, and as he takes on a position of great power at home, nie huaisang lives with that knowledge, and surely will for the rest of his life. to be placed in such a position, where his brother lives again, is a wondrous blessing, but it comes with a knot of guilt that won't quite untie.
he knows that his brother means it. he doesn't know the extent of all of the things that he's done, but nie huaisang never takes anything he says as less than the truth, because unlike huaisang, nie mingjue is not a liar.
he looks at the hand now clasping his, and stretches his fingers out to return the grasp. his hand looks so small in his brother's--he has long, delicate, inkstained fingers, more suited to holding a brush than a sword, and comparatively, it's like they're little kids again. how many times has nie huaisang reached for this hand in his life, to find it there and ready? when he was lost in the halls of qingghe, scared of his own shadow, when he was barely old enough to walk? it's so natural that the combination of his words and the action make emotion well up in his chest, again, and he has to speak around the sticky way his throat seems to close with it. his fingers gently squeeze against mingue's, thumb finding his pulse and pressing against it like he can reassure himself it's there. ] ...everything was taken care of. [ jin guangyao, but also, his brother's proper resting place. his rites, done correctly, so he could finally rest in peace.
a part of him wants to think that this little life he's created here might be an effect of that. he hopes so. ] I'll tell you anything you want to know, da-ge. I-- [ a soft huff of a laugh. ] --I haven't spoken of it much.
[ which means at all.
but, as mingjue continues, he'll see nie huaisang's expression change, too. jin guangyao being here, in this little paradise, rapidly destroys that hopeful thought. mingjue may still see the childish innocence in his face, but he's just as complicit in such dark emotions; they swirl behind his eyes, clouding over with a similar, black fury. in the years since the death of nie mingjue, nie huaisang has grown in more ways than one. ] ...I promise.
[ tch. he's glad he's here more than ever, now. to know that jin guangyao and his brother have existed in the same space makes him anxious, makes him angry. he won't let jin guangyao ever trick his brother ever again. he'll stay by his side, constant, vigilant. i won't let him harm you either, he thinks, though he doesn't say it.
he's glad he's angry. he hopes he is. anger make people sloppy. huaisang will find a way to take him down, again. ]
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when has nie huaisang done things to truly earn his brother's pride? such a rare admission, and one that he feels that he hasn't earned. it's bittersweet; he has done so many terrible things, all in the name of vengeance and justice. he won, but the victory felt overly hollow. killing jin guangyao let his brother rest, but it didn't bring him back, and as he takes on a position of great power at home, nie huaisang lives with that knowledge, and surely will for the rest of his life. to be placed in such a position, where his brother lives again, is a wondrous blessing, but it comes with a knot of guilt that won't quite untie.
he knows that his brother means it. he doesn't know the extent of all of the things that he's done, but nie huaisang never takes anything he says as less than the truth, because unlike huaisang, nie mingjue is not a liar.
he looks at the hand now clasping his, and stretches his fingers out to return the grasp. his hand looks so small in his brother's--he has long, delicate, inkstained fingers, more suited to holding a brush than a sword, and comparatively, it's like they're little kids again. how many times has nie huaisang reached for this hand in his life, to find it there and ready? when he was lost in the halls of qingghe, scared of his own shadow, when he was barely old enough to walk? it's so natural that the combination of his words and the action make emotion well up in his chest, again, and he has to speak around the sticky way his throat seems to close with it. his fingers gently squeeze against mingue's, thumb finding his pulse and pressing against it like he can reassure himself it's there. ] ...everything was taken care of. [ jin guangyao, but also, his brother's proper resting place. his rites, done correctly, so he could finally rest in peace.
a part of him wants to think that this little life he's created here might be an effect of that. he hopes so. ] I'll tell you anything you want to know, da-ge. I-- [ a soft huff of a laugh. ] --I haven't spoken of it much.
[ which means at all.
but, as mingjue continues, he'll see nie huaisang's expression change, too. jin guangyao being here, in this little paradise, rapidly destroys that hopeful thought. mingjue may still see the childish innocence in his face, but he's just as complicit in such dark emotions; they swirl behind his eyes, clouding over with a similar, black fury. in the years since the death of nie mingjue, nie huaisang has grown in more ways than one. ] ...I promise.
[ tch. he's glad he's here more than ever, now. to know that jin guangyao and his brother have existed in the same space makes him anxious, makes him angry. he won't let jin guangyao ever trick his brother ever again. he'll stay by his side, constant, vigilant. i won't let him harm you either, he thinks, though he doesn't say it.
he's glad he's angry. he hopes he is. anger make people sloppy. huaisang will find a way to take him down, again. ]