๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ย . . .ย have a drink at my table , allow me to tell you storiesย โย stories of dragons and burnt men .ย tell me about lord zhao jianย .ย
(ย ย mark tuan ,ย cismale , he/himย ย )ย ย : ฬฬโย ย twenty-nine years young , a firebender from the noble house of zhao . many know them to be ill-tempered & violent . how unfortunate , truly . . .ย iโve always found them to be capable & straightforward . they oft fulfill the duties of the head of houseย zhao . oh , i should tell you โ they oppose the rule of house yi . well , you know how every storyteller bends the tale they tell .ย ย โถย ย selene , 24 , she/herย .
( 24/02 - plots page is updated! )
hi all, i'm selene (twenty-four, she/her, gmt+11) ! as a long-time fan of atla I'm very excited to join this group and write with all of you.
(most of) jian's information is currently available in the links above. some pages still need to be updated, please bear with me. for now, here's a tl;dr:
background
born on 05/19/33 to zhao xiuying (mother, head of house), and zhao yixing (father)
was a bit of an ass as a kid. he wouldn't bully you or insult you to your face, but he would ignore your existence, and look down on all he perceived as weaker than him
became the current head of house zhao at twenty after a duel (agni kai) with his stepfather went awry. he technically didn't kill him, so he wasn't charged with any crimes
joined the fire nation army at sixteen, shortly after his mother (the former head of house) died
soon climbed up the ranks and became the captain of the royal guard at eighteen. some say it's because of his family's connections, but jian would argue: "what family?"; he thinks it's all because of merit (who knows?)
firebender skilled in martial arts (if he had to use a weapon, he could. you can't have any obvious weak points as a zhao)
personality
unbelievably disciplined in his training (he needs to be, because who else is going to protect his loved ones)
has some issues with his parents putting so much pressure on his shoulders as a kid, but not being present to see his goals come to fruition (bc... they're dead...)
opposes house yi. resents them for meddling in his house's affairs, and for the lack of freedom to do as he pleases.
greatest ambition of all is to become as powerful as possible, but not necessarily the political kind (take that as you will)
difficult to approach, let alone befriend, due to his lack of positive emotion (he feels nothing but rage)
and for the people he did let in, jian would have clung to them as if his life depended on it (maybe it did)
will always put his duties first, even if it meant sacrificing his time, energy or comfort (this man survived being poisoned in the spirit world, came back to the land of the living in a coma, and resumed his duties two days later)
appearance
dark brown hair, often kept short and trimmed
black-and-red training robes is his daily uniform, unless he's at a formal event
multiple scars on his arms, thighs and back, from years of intense training at the red gorge and in the military
speaks with a northern (red gorge) accent
wanted connections
childhood friendย -ย someone presumably from the house ma/house yue
(ex-)loverย - someone (previously) close to jian but not quite marriage material
advisor/sย (house ma/house yue) - a person from one of the vassal families meant to provide counsel to jian.ย must oppose house yi
rivals, allies, and everything in between - float some ideas my way and iโm sure we can work something out!
if you'd like to chat on discord please add me (selvne), otherwise i may be a bit slow responding to tumblr im's. i hope to write with you all soon!
the courtyard was a sight to behold at this time of year.
the late lady zhao adored the flowers in her garden. a young jian often woke up at the brink of dawn to find her there, nursing her morning cup of tea amidst the flowering peonies and marigolds and wisteria.
now, when he felt ill, he would sit on her favourite chair and nurse a warm cup of tea in his hands, as he watched the birds and insects descend on the blooming buds around him. after becoming head of house, jian had glimpsed some of what his mother had gone through; how the only solace she had, sometimes, was a few minutes of repose in a manicured garden before a day full of duties and politics and intrigue began. and it was good, for it was enough for her.
aching as he was, jian forced himself to stand as he heard footsteps approach. of course, this person needed no introduction, after everything they had gone through.
as lady wanning entered his field of vision, he was briefly reminded of what they had endured in the spirit world. jian still wished he had done more for her lady yura, but perhaps there was no point in regretting what was already done. he tried his best, at the very least, to shield them both from further harm.
โgood morning, lady wanning.โ jian felt it was too early for formalities, when he had still yet to finish his first cup of tea. he beckons her to sit, and mirrors her when she settles.
jian briefly wondered if the lady yue was able to sleep, or if she had been regularly seeing visions like him. but he dared not ask, for it was too soon to presume the nightmare had ended for either of them.
โi hope you are doing well.โ jian himself was recovering, but his patience with himself was wearing thin. there were dark circles under his eyes the colour of bruises, and a deep ache in his bones he couldnโt quite place. he had only hoped for wanning to be spared from the same fate. โi apologise for asking to meet so early. i have a request, if you would be so kind to accept.โ
he describes a weapon he had only used a few times before: a jian sword, which he was quite possibly named after, one he desired for its versatility and lightness.
โi find it difficult to wield a polearm now, you see.โ he blames it on his newfound exhaustion upon returning from the spirit world. he needed something lighter, in case his bending were to beโฆ inaccessible, yet again. โi trust you would understand why.โ
he waited expectantly. often, for requests such as this, jian need only address a letter to lord and lady yue and it will be done with haste. but he often found little excuse to shirk from his duties, and it has been quite a while since he saw the younger lady.
jian couldnโt quite admit it to himself, but he was happy to see her.
[...] zhao keran & ma yunseo
Every hope keeping him together falls to the floor with the towels as he shoves his way inside of the room, color drained from his face. Seeing Keran thrown over Jian isn't alarming because he expected as much. Seeing Jian with his eyes open is a different scenario and it elicits an equally unexpected trembling that begins on his bottom lip and rockets down to his knees. In a matter of seconds his face is wet, but he can hardly move to dry it, trapped just beyond the threshold of the door with a mess of spilled linen and cool water between them.
"J-Jian?" Yunseo exhales, a skeleton of an empty inquiry that feels hardly audible even to himself.
wherever he was, jian felt as though the darkness had swallowed him whole.
time was but an illusion in the spirit world. somehow, after wandering aimlessly for what felt like years, he found himself on the banks of an inky lake, glittering as if the stars shimmered beneath the surface. there was no sky above, only stone. when he looked around him, wanning and yura were nowhere to be found.
panicked, he runs, but the only direction he could go was forward. the water rippled beneath his feet, but he could not feel the cool wetness through his boots. another step forward, and then, he was plunged into the icy water.
a garbled scream tore from his lungs as jian was pushed back into house baeโs banquet hall, the sounds of battle raging around him. for a split second he sees keran, ash streaked on her face, tears brimming from her eyes, as he pushes her to safety, and his footing slipsโ
โge.โ
he heard faintly. when was the last time she called him that?
he couldnโt even remember. jian had almost forgotten what her voice sounded like. but he could never forget her name, not when he saw her face calling out to him every time he closed his eyes.
โkeran.โ
he awoke with a start.
where was he now? in a sizable room, he sat upright on the only bed, a slow pounding in his temples as his ears began to ring. there was a sudden loud noise to his right, but his head reacted too slowly, as if he was still submerged in the icy waters of that lake.
โgege!โ
for a moment, he couldnโt breathe, for keran had thrown herself into his arms. albeit his hearing was still muffled, the way her chest heaved was enough to convey what he needed to know. jian wrapped his arms around her, his pulse thrumming right under his skin.
she was warm, like how he imagined her to be. she was never the affectionate sort, if he remembered correctly, and jian was not arrogant enough to believe that he deserved that from her after all thatโs happened between them. still, he caressed her hair, his movements slow and his hands heavy. it all felt a little too real; he could count every single strand on her head if he so wished.
that was when he noticed. when he brought a hand up to his face, it was not translucent. his heart lurched into his throat.
was he finally back in the human world?
โkeran,โ breathed out her name, blinking as his eyes began to sting, โi missed you so much.โ his tone full of relief, of love for his youngest sibling. jian truly thought he would die, that koh would somehow find him and keep him hostage, forever. and yet, he survived; he was a zhao, after all.
โiโm glad youโre safe.โ jian kisses her head, wrapping his arms impossibly tighter around her trembling frame. he was never letting go of her ever again.
his eyes snap to the door as it suddenly opens, and yunseo enters his field of vision. the sight of his best friend was enough to drive him to tears.
โyunseo.โ he called out, his expression contorted into that of grief, of pain. he never did hesitate to be himself around the younger lord; there was no need, not when he had already bared his heart to him.
he beckons him closer, and pulls the younger man into a half-embrace, his right arm wrapped around keran still. one could infer, with the way the eldest held onto the two for dear life, that both zhao keran and ma yunseo were dearly beloved to him. yet he could not find the words to communicate that; he could only press his cheek against yunseoโs, in an effort to emulate a hug, as he whispered in his ear, โi missed you, too.โ
there was a moment of stillness as jian allowed himself to feel. perhaps, although there seemed to be no words that could describe the horrors the spirit world had brought unto him and his companions, he could relish the few moments of relief he had in seeing those he loved, lest the call of his duties need to be heeded sooner than the young head of house would have liked.
and yet, as he recalled jiyu falling into the lava moments before him, his stomach twisted and coiled with festering doubt.
โwhereโs jiyuโฆ?โ he struggled to form words, for the pounding of his temples continued to worsen. jian released a shaky breath. โwhat-what happened?โ
to fight was to relish the freedom of release, with every movement connecting you to your opponent; a tantalizing thrill, perhaps only accentuated by zhao jianโs known brashness and lack of courtesy even on mere training grounds.
the scars on his body were visible underneath his black vest, acting as permanent reminders of how he would try, and often fail, to use whatever weapon he could get his hands onโbe it spear, polearm, or sword. yet none of them could quite compare to the greatest weapon one could wield, and duly hone: his bending.
jian was taught by his father to never hold back, regardless of who he fought with. today, perhaps due to a lapse in judgment by the elder zhao, the person who stood opposite him was none other than ma yunseo.
and he could tell you a lot of things about his friendโsomeone he thought he used to know, but had recently affixed himself firmly to jianโs side upon returning from the spirit worldโlike how the grin on his face seemed to permanently disable jianโs ability to frown, regardless of how foolish yunseo acted. and how, even as he prepared himself for the fight, the thought of hurting yunseo was enough to give him uncharacteristic pause.
it was difficult, still, regardless of how many months had passed since. whenever he laid eyes on yunseo, he remembered what happened during the blood moon. jian could never quite see him the same wayโnot after what he learned that night. not after jian almost lost him, all because yunseo decided to carry all of his pain by himself.
โare you ready, yunseo?โ jian pulled on his left arm for a final stretch; lazily, like they had all the time in the world to tumble around in the dirt. it was only quarter past noon, after all. โweโll draw the fire out of you today. prepare yourself.โ
perhaps his words would seem taunting to some. but one could argue that you had not seen the eldest zhao in battle before; his flame burned brightly, fuelled by the rage kept sacred in the depths of his heart. jian was a vessel of emotion about to burst. and yunseo, perhaps as a show of mercy to his friend, had suggested they spar to relieve some of that tension.
this would be the first time jian trained since before the incident at fire fountain city. and this would be the first time, in a very long time, that yunseo stood across from him as his opponent.
jian languidly removes his vest and throws it to one of his servants, who catches it with ease. the sun was high in the sky, beating its rays onto his back. green-and-purple bruises covered his pale skin, marks of all his accidents from the visions that continued to plague him.
still, his body felt hot, and feverishly so. jian felt alive; for once, not bogged down by grief or exhaustion in this moment. the grin that overtook his lips was one of excitement, and eagerness. a fleeting moment of freedom, but one he could still cherish without guilt.
and so, they began.
jian attacks, his movements strong and controlled, as a roundhouse kick connects with the back of yunseoโs thigh. he launches himself forward, giving yunseo enough time to fight back as he attempted to tackle him; grunts as he fails, forcing jian to slip underneath yunseoโs arm, a mass of heated limbs and ragged breaths.
โcome on, whereโs that flame?โ jian taunts as he slips out of yunseoโs grip with ease. โburn me once and this will all be over.โ
sweat drips from his forehead as he counters yunseoโs attacks with some degree of difficulty. the nature of firebending meant it was an offensive art; often, the best defense would be to absorb the shock, and use the other personโs movements to your advantage.
seeing an opening, jian lands a sharp kick to the other manโs side, grimacing lightly as he feels his shin connect to bone. it gives jian enough momentum to summon a fire bomb that he thrusts down onto yunseoโs back. it wasnโt enough to disable, one could only hope, for the power of jianโs bending had not faltered even at the sight of his friend in pain.
his narrows his eyes as he crouches down low, one hand beckoning his opponent forward. he could feel his heartbeat from his neck, equal parts anxious about yunseoโs condition, and proud to know that jian could still read him well, even after all these years.
a drawn-out sigh, a creased brow; zhao jian was a sorry sight for some, but a sore one for many. he did not relish in partaking in festivities, for his own nameday celebration was overshadowed by the crumbling of house bae. too busy in the affairs of his house in the aftermath, jian was given nary a moment to pause, and breathe. respite was one of the few things that so eluded him, even to this day. pored over his work, and with his condition worsening by the day, his mood had followed suit.
being childhood friends with a hino had its perks, he supposed. when lady rei was escorted into his chambers, jian felt immediately relaxed by her presence; he would plop his head down onto her lap as soon as she settled, a small sigh escaping his lips.
โmy lady,โ he reaches up a hand to hold hers, gently placing it atop of his forehead, โi hope you can forgive me for my lack of courtesy. frankly, i feel as if i am dying, slowly but surely.โ
jian knew himself to be selfish, too. while he could never thank rei enough for tirelessly helping his brother find a cure, a large part of him knew that the weariness that had nestled deep in his bones was not one you could fight off through sheer force of will. and he had waited long enough for this day; he could indulge himself, just a little bit.
โi could tell you all about it, the visions,โ jian begins, his eyes slowly closing, โbut i fear itโs all for naught. i can see him every time i close my eyes; as if heโs always there, waiting. biding his time.โ
it often struck jian when he was not ready. the nightmare-like visions would badly disable him; unable to breathe, or move, or speak, he would often crumple to the floor, leaving large bruises on his body from the impact. those, he was sure rei could heal. his mind, however, was a different story.
โplease,โ jian pleads, desperate for some semblance of peace, โi canโt do this anymore, rei. i need your help.โ
[...] ma yunseo
"I promised you that I would stay by your side and I won't stray from that again." Yunseo's hand slips down, rests at the crook of Jian's elbow. "But I can no longer offer to protect you as I could when we were young. My bendingโ" he mulls over the admittance, new, terrifying, before laying it between them. "My bending has been inaccessible," a fragile beat of time, punctuated with a shallow inhale, "for a while now."
jian releases a breath he didnโt notice he was holding.
his bites his tongue as yunseo snaps at him, and apologises soon after. he wondered when this started, how the distance between them widened until jian began to drown in it. perhaps it all began when yunseoโs father died, followed subsequently by jianโs father a year later. too young to suddenly lose one of the biggest pillars of their lives, their grief manifested as anger, tearing into their flesh until they could do nothing but push it outwardโto other people. to those they loved.
jian would lose his mother years later. and then, in his peripheral vision, he saw yunseo tear himself from the inside out before he could do anything to stop him.
he closed his eyes, attempting to steady his breaths. he listened to yunseoโs voice, sounding as tired and wary as he was. perhaps, the parts of themselves theyโve lost could be found in each other. but nothing in life was ever that easy, was it?
โi understand.โ jian responds, his throat tight and his voice rasped with emotion. โbut you were never a charity case. at least to me.โ
no, he was more than that. yunseo was someone jian could never describe with words; loyal, surely, but not even those who pledged their fealty looked at him as if he was the sun itself.
and if jian had felt so bold, he would remind lord ma yunseo that the best thing he could possibly grant is favour to his vassal; support to claim the title of head of house ma, if his friend ever wished to do so. but jian could never say it aloud. it was not the time, nor the place. and in the back of his mind, he knew the nature of their relationship rarely allowed for politics to flow between themโtheyโve filled all the cracks with all the things they could never say.
after all, they were not lords in this moment, merely two young men with broken spirits.
it was evident with the way the younger manโs body shook, as he placed a hand on jianโs shoulder. hesitating, still, as if he would be burned if he came too close, or acted too rashly.
when yunseo finally confirms his fears, jian releases a shuddering sigh. and then, a small laugh is torn from his lungs, struggling as he was to temper the pounding of his heart.
โi would sooner throw myself off a cliff than see you die before me.โ this time, jian allowed tears to prick the corners of his eyes. he allowed them to fall as he blinked, and pulled the other man as close as he could. โit is my duty as your liege to protect you, yunseo.โ he wipes the tear from his cheek, sniffling in turn. โstill, thank you for telling me. i understand that it was difficult, like everything unsaid between us seems to be.โ
for a heartbeat, jian held him as tightly as possible, mindful to not further aggravate his injuries. he could smell sweat and ash and blood, but none of it mattered to him. yunseo was one of his own, and zhao jian was not someone whose clutches you could escape so easily.
โneed i always remind you who you are? you are not merely lord ma, nor am i only your liege. you are yunseo; you are one of mine.โ jian pulls away, allowing space between them once again. still, his hands rested on yunseoโs shoulders, threatening to shake them if he ever dared to say something stupid again. โwe will find a way to restore your bending, no matter what. but first, you must rest.โ
he pats yunseo on the head, as if condescendingly, but the grin that soon spread on his face stated otherwise. โi canโt believe i used to have a crush on an idiot like you,โ jian shakes his head in disbelief, โbut youโre still the same yunseo from nineteen years ago. always thinking about everyone else, never yourself. when will you learn, i wonder?โ
[...] zhao jiyu
โa manatee whale? in front of a navy ship? jian, why didnโt you tell me youโre looking to make a name for yourself in comedy?โ jiyu rolls his eyes, but his shoulders stay relaxed; thereโs no bite in his tone. โmaybe for more covert operationsโ, he acquiesces, but itโs not as though nobody else wouldโve considered it before if it was feasible. โcall it an expansion of our personal forces. our fearless warriors, riding manatee whales to battle.โ the notion is ridiculous.
jian immediately noticed the shift in his brotherโs demeanor. he always thought himself to be honest, yet perhaps not open enoughโto his siblings, at least.
and so he says, frankly, that keran had yet to write back to him (and that it was, in fact, the servants who informed him), and that they were too busy with preparations: for gifts to other nobles, as jian was to head to hari bulkan soon; and for his nameday, and keranโs, and house baeโs banquet. he still did not feel the need to explain everything, yet the way jiyu talked made him bristle slightly. as if they were all but strangers, who only spoke when need be.
it was not far from the truth, despite how much he wished it to be different.
there was no malice when his eyes settled on his brotherโs figure. trepidation, yes; and disappointment, lingering in the pit of his stomach, for his brotherโs icy faรงade was nigh impenetrable once more.
still, he was proud. for jiyu had made a name for himself, and proved jianโand anyone else who doubted himโwrong. a feeling not easily translated to words, but was evident in the way jian conceded too easily; how he would always try, even if in vain, to make up for his past actions. if not as the head of his house, at least as their eldest brother, pushing a plate of fruit even closer to jiyu until it almost tips over the edge of the table.
โat least you understand, brother, that a group of manatee whales would surely help expand our navy.โ they had their allotted three ships, the most recent of which jian had requested years ago to patrol their territorial waters. of course, the fire lord wouldnโt acquiesce to another. โbut perhaps that would be too much work for your soldiers. i will spare you the pain.โ
jian sits up, stretching his legs. he was at a loss for what to say next. a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips.
at this point in time, one of them would have already left for their chambers; the tables would have been cleared by now, with the cushions put back into place. yet jian was allowed to steal more time from his brother. if this was not progress, then he surely could not fathom what the word meant anymore.
โi met with sarang the other day.โ jian said, softly. he was never privy to the ongoings of his brotherโs life, either, but perhaps he felt bold enough tonight to try his luck by sharing some of his.
he said nothing further. a large part of him wished to grasp his words and push them back into his mouth, and act as if he never said anything in the first place.
jian poured himself another drink. simply waiting, with no expectation of a reply.
the words were faint, almost garbled, as the visions began once again.
once a mighty lord, now a prison of his own mind, zhao jian writhed from where he sat, eyes clenched closed, as if in pain.
โโmy lordโโ
nightmares gripped his being, holding his breathing still and silent and quiet, for he has no nose no mouth no face โ and he fights for control of his own body as he crumples to the floor. it was too much, too real, kohโs eerie face too close, the sound of otherworldly voices echoing against cold stoneโ
โhold onโโ jian gasps for air. he was on the floor when he came to, bracing himself from the impact, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.
the doors have already been flung open, servants rushing to his aide. he glowers and yells at them to leave him be, threatening to burn every single one of them with his flame. but it was too late, now; even if he wondered who it was that told them to defy his orders, it was of no use. he had already lost face to the person that mattered most.
all he could do was shrug off the hands that deigned to touch him, and command them to leave his chambers. his face burned a feverish red, sweat blooming under his hairline.
โno one else may enter, do you understand?โ he barked to his guards, who immediately bowed and closed the door behind him.
as sarang enters his room, the scowl all but melts from his face. he straightens his robes as much as he could, and turns to her with an inscrutable expression on his face.
she looked sullen, pale. withdrawn, almost. jian felt a hint of regret, having not spoken to her for as long as he had. even at the bae estate, he was far too busy to properly converse with her; all he could do was meet her gaze, and offer a small smile. too busy with the affairs of his house, with wondering if jiyu would survive another day with his illness, of reassuring keran that he was alive and would never leave her side again. and by the time he realised what he should have done, it was too late; they were summoned to hari bulkan. jian knew his own tune well enough by now: it was the same song and dance as eight years ago.
โsarangโฆโ he reached out a hand as if to hold hers, but hesitated at the final second. he probably meant nothing to her now, if there was even anything there before. and even after presenting his case to the fire lord, there will be nothing between them now.
all he could do was meet her gaze, and offer the sincerest apology he can.
โi apologise,โ his lowered his voice, but kept his gaze firm, โfor not talking to you until now. for being selfish, then and now.โ
excuses, again. jian screwed his eyes shut. how could he possibly tell her how he felt? that she was all he ever wanted, but he canโt put his houseโand hersโin danger?
but jian knew it was futile, how he longed for something that was already over. it was for the same reasons he clung to the memories of his mother, as if his life depended on it: his relationship with sarang was one of the only times he ever felt true to himself. happy, even.
with a heaved sigh, he pulls her into his arms. all the words he wanted to say died in his throat at the sight of her; the smell of her hair, the fire in her eyes. he didnโt mind if she protested, or hit him, for touching a lady such as her without permission. but jian was past the point of caring. this would be the last time.
all he could say was: โiโm sorry.โ
as he relieved sarang of his embrace, he tells her about how he talked to the fire lord, pleaded with him to let him court her, and received nothing but spite in return. and jian, for his lapse in judgment, will have to sentence his youngest sister to being a political hostage of the house he so despised.
he could only laugh wryly. could only watch for her expression to change, to finally see him as who he truly was: a fool, and nothing more.
โyou were right, sarang.โ his voice drops to a whisper. โi am undeserving of my title. i have no right to call myself a lord, when all i do is put everyone i love in danger.โ
but jian had already sworn to himself that he will fight. he will watch the yis burn, no matter what it takes. because if doubt took hold for even a second, his resolve would falter.
โi wish you nothing but happiness.โ jian echoed his words from so long ago. but they were empty now, as was the heart he now lay at her feet. โi wishโฆ things were different. but thank you, sarang, for seeing me again.โ for the last time.
far from kind, with social graces still to be honed, yet respectable all the same. the fiery ambition from his youth had morphed into polite respect for the royal family, whose political affects had often found themselves intertwined with his familyโs on more than one occasion. had jian become head of house younger, the yi familyโs insistence to meddle in his affairs would cause jian to rebel; over the years, with his heart closer to those he knew would be cruelly affected by his actions, hesitation prevailed over anger. a voice in his head, sounding much like his late mother, would beseech him to see reason; to protect, to serve, as he was taught to do.
now, after surviving the horrors of the spirit world, jian emerged with deepened scars.
he was barely given time to breath. at the bae residence, he soon resumed his duties as head of house two days after he awoke from his deep sleep. and this morning, two months after returning to hari bulkan, jian sought audience with the fire lord.
he pleaded with lord sado to allow him to court seok sarang, his twin flame, but was met with sharp rejection. the gravity of his actions was not lost on him; jian was merely hoping for him to understand, for has one ever felt alive if they had not loved? yet despite how much he implored, the fire lordโs word was final.
it was with heavy footsteps and a heavier heart that he entered the zhao residence. passing directly through the courtyard, he summons flame from his palms; briefly considered burning the whole place down, and everyone in it. for what else was there to do in this world, when you are so shackled to the whims of a senile, paranoid man?
and jian would burn the world if it meant he could taste some semblance of freedom.ย
he roared, deep and guttural, as he hit the training dummies with the full force of his bending, powered by sheer rage. it was then he finally noticed his brotherโs presence; jianโs pained expression remained, clenching his fists as wood and straw and cloth burned behind him. what small relief he felt from seeing jiyu in the flesh was engulfed by his emotions.
โjiyu.โ his voice was hoarse and thick as he scanned jiyuโs form, noting the scales on his ear. โi am glad to see you, brother.โ
as he tells jiyu what had taken place, he remembers his brotherโs bond with crown prince suho, sadoโs offspring. in his mind they were alike, given power they did not deserveโpower that rightly belonged to the zhaos.
โwe will find you a cure.โ his tone becomes louder, more manic. his eyes communicated what he dared not speak: the desire to enact violence, to maim someone. to kill. โand then, we will watch them burn, together.โ
[...] yi yeongja & hino rei
"oh-- lady rei of house hino is here." it's difficult to mask her excitement at seeing her dear friend, resulting in her tone shifting higher and her eyes crinkling with affection. "let us go over to her. my, she is breathtaking this eve, is she not?" she begins to lead her date over to the woman, tugging away at his arm, the fabric of her dress swaying and flowing to reveal her legs and the curls of her hair brushing past her shoulders as she charges forward with great haste.
zhao jian wore a placid expression beneath his mask, arm curled stiffly on his side as princess yeongja takes it. with their names formally announced, they enter the hall to join the festivities.
perhaps on any other night, the pair would end up arguing (or, more accurately, making passive-aggressive comments away from the prying eyes and ears of other nobles). but tonight, with too many eyes on them, jian could only mirror her fake smile with his own, and try his best to bury the itch to escape.
he listens to her speak as he scans the roomโfrantically, but he would never show. the mask that sat on the upper half of his face seemed to help in that regard. as he hums in affirmation, he spared a glance towards the long table of food and drink, and almost jumps for joy when he spots hino rei; even more so when yeongja herself appeared eager to converse with the lady.
โlady hino! how are you?โ as they approach, jian is swift to pull away from yeongja and wrap his arms around his childhood friend. for a split second, jian forgets where he was, and about their past engagement, too.
reluctantly, he steps back, close enough to yeongja that he could smell her sweet perfume. he hoped no one was watching his actions too closely.
โyou look absolutely stunning tonight, rei.โ jian grins, perhaps for the first time that night. when he turns to yeongja, he tempers his smile to be more polite and pleasing. โbut of course, not as wonderful as princess yeongja.โ
[...] zhao jiyu
often, when he talks to jian, he doesnโt even mean half of what heโs saying. itโs idle chitchat - the sort that has him talking a lot without any substance. jiyu, because heโs been trying to extend some goodwill, catches himself in the act and stops. โi canโt complain, jian, truly.โ
jian hums in response to his brotherโs words. despite all his efforts, the most he gets from jiyu is occasional banter like this. perhaps something was better than nothing; in this case, the way he acted as if to annoy him, despite knowing that stirring a response from jian would require more emotion than jiyu would be willing to give, brought a smile to his face.
โthat information is classified, commander.โ jian sat up to push the plate of fruit closer to his brother. it wasnโt anything serious, simply an exchange of words with one of the servants; jiyu didnโt have to be privy to everything. โand i find it amusing that youโve perused our cellars recently. iโve asked them to restock more than what was needed, and yetโฆโ
โtheir servants didnโt buy enough of jiyuโs favourite liquor.
jian stretches his legs. there was no use in regrets now. and when jiyu speaks of manatee whales, all the eldest could do was roll his eyes. he had no words, truly, for he is always uncertain how to act around his family. even in the best of times, like tonight.
โcrumb is enough of a handful.โ he mutters under his breath, low enough that jiyu could hear him if he really wanted to.
the next sentence that leaves his brotherโs mouth almost sounded like a form of gratitude. jian would have to mull it over to decipher exactly what it meant; for now, he pointedly ignored the strange spark of excitement in his chest.
he barely catches himself in time, knowing if he looked at jiyu as if heโs grown an extra head, his brother will get angry. instead he pops a slice of persimmon in his mouth, and hums to the tune of a song only known to him.
โi will be leaving for hari bulkan next month. then, fire fountain city.โ jian plops onto the cushions once again. and he adds, with a sly grin, โperhaps you can even use one to pull your ship, if you are so fascinated by them.โ
no, jian didnโt need to be asked how he was doing. it was not something he was known to offer on his own accord. still, when shown even the slightest bit of interest by his brother, he allows himself to smile, and to speak freely, even for just a few moments.
[...] yue wanning
Wanning shut her eyes against the painful memory. "His parents wept - they could not even recover his bones for a shallow grave." To avoid wounding the pride of men, she often persuaded gently with stories, and this one happened to be true. "My lord, I amโฆworried," she admitted. "You are injured and undoubtedly exhausted. Shall we return and find you a healer?"
the voice jian hears was not immediately familiar to him. a cursory glance confirmed who it was: the young lady wanning, with her eyes always burning with intent, needed no introduction.
lord yue once told him of her: how, when she was a child, she had described jian like a fine weapon to be honed to its full potential; to be their future leader, and protector. the jian who laid eyes on her at this time, tired and weary, could not possibly fathom the statement for what it truly was: a testament of her loyalty to house zhao, going above mere respect and admiration.
when he says โi know who you areโ, jian felt the knots in his shoulders loosen. his gaze is redirected towards the horizon as the setting sun paints the sky in burnt orange tones.
as she recounts the story of a boy she once knew, he was reminded of the childhood that was taken from him. perhaps a lesser man would be driven to rash action, would have easily succumbed to the pressure and the stress. but if jian was anything, he was strong.
yet, perhaps even the strongest of men falter when blood paints their hands.
โi appreciate the sentiment, lady wanning.โ and he did. as he curled into himself, his legs hugging the edge of the cliff, jian was reminded of why he sought solace in the first place. โbut i am not a child.โ
jian grits his teeth. qusheng dared to call him a child, to label him as someone who only lived to seek approval from others. he was mistaken. jian was more than that. he was a formidable fighter, former captain of the royal guard, and a respectable lord in his own right.
now, he has wrested the title of head of house zhao from his stepfatherโs clutches. it was bittersweet, but there was no use for doubt now. he flexed a clenched fist, sucking in a breath through his teeth. the pain that lingered in his bruised body was not physical; it was embedded deep in his soul, coming to the surface. and jian never did fare well with emotion.
still, wanningโs pleas did not fall on deaf ears. his resolve weakened as tears blurred his vision.
โi am sorry about your friend. but unlike him, i have no parents to weep for me.โ jian closes his eyes, the wind burning his cheeks, his voice softening in turn. โleave me be.โ
[...] seok sarang
after taking a few more stable breaths, sarang finally decides itโs time to speak her mind freely: โwhat you did or didnโt do back when we were younger was hurtful to me. we both know it and you gave me an apology albeit a little bit overdue,โ she dares to smile just a little bit, โbut so much time has passed since then and โฆ to be honest, i enjoy being in your presence. i enjoy receiving your letters.โ
she thinks back to how hyeju scolded her for still writing him but doesnโt allow the thought to take the upperhand. โi donโt want you to disappear from my life, jian,โ she repeats, โi want you to be a part of it. if youโd like to be.โ
jian releases a breath he didnโt know he was holding, so focused on the presence in front of him. he was finally forgiven now; the object of his affections have told him herself that he was allowed to remain in her life.
as she continued, jian feels discomfort in his spine. there was a reason he hasnโt apologised before, but he had no courage in his heart to tell her what (or more aptly, who) it was. all he could do was gaze upon her as she spoke, wondering if he would be able to tell her everything someday.
โyouโre not the first person to tell me you enjoy being in my presence.โ jian remarks, a grin tugging on his lips. of course, he referred to his tight-knit circle of friends, all of whom heโs known since childhood. โbut you are the first to say you enjoy receiving letters from me. i appreciate it.โ
and when sarang speaks again, clearly saying how she wanted jian to be in her life, his smile falters.
whatever hope he had left should not be allowed to take hold. and yet, with each breath he took, it was all that entered his lungs. like the breaking of floodgates, jian remembered; what it was like to hold her hand, even for a moment, as they gazed at the sunset in the distance; how they would dance, albeit badly, when they felt like no one was watching; how he dreamt of proposing to her, so so often, that the zhao family ring was forever imprinted as sarangโs in his mind.
he remembered how he had given it to keran mere weeks ago, with the intention of a goodwill gesture a thinly veiled ruse. jian wanted it gone from his nightstand, for he decided he wanted to move on, in hopes that he could soon secure a bride to continue their lineage.
and every single one of his plans faltered in this moment. crumbling around him like fine sand, slipping through his fingers once again. jian embraces the feeling: that jittering rush of being alive, and being able to feel.
โit would be my honour to stay in your life, my lady.โ jian begins to pour tea into his cup. it seemed like he wasnโt leaving anytime soon, after all. โi hope i can see you smile more. as a friend. orโฆ a pen pal, perhaps? who knows?โ
he laughs. this time, his smile reaches his eyes. โregardless, i will be content knowing you are well.โ and he adds, softly, as he looks down at his tea: โthank you, sarang.โ
lord jian, the head of the great house of zhao, did not revere the spirits.
he acknowledged their existence in the world, but never worshipped them as he saw no need for it. after all, if the spirits had exerted even the smallest amount of positive influence on his life, perhaps his father wouldnโt have fallen in battle. and his mother wouldnโt have died young, and left him and his siblings in the hands of their stepfather before jian even became of age. it was as if the fates themselves laughed in the face of his plights, of his sorrows, and jian burned with rage at all the world had taken from him, and all it had refused to give.
when his senses came to, he forced himself to stand in a flit of panic, fine golden sand impeding his movements. keranโwhere is she? worry threatened to still his breathing; did she fall into the lava with him? was she harmed by any of the spirits? was she okay?
thoughts of his siblings flickered through his mindโhe had seen jiyu fall into the lava, moments before him. meilin was backed into a far corner, facing off with a dark spirit. and keranโgods, wherever she may be, jian could only pray he had pushed her out of harmโs way.
when jian notices his hands were a translucent blue, and he cannot bend, the hot wind that pushed him forward whispered softly in his ears: โyou do not belong here, human. find a way out, now!โ
he starts running, sheer terror pumping through his veins. he finds an unconscious yue wanning curled into herself, as if pained, and jian gently awoke her. they would soon find choi yura wandering as the desert that gleamed before them began to descend into darkness, and they collectively decided to head deeper into it, for there was nowhere else to go.
and if jian knew one thing about the spirit world, it was an anecdote from an old book his mother read to him as a child: the great sand sea, the eroded remains of a primordial spirit, was said to push one to aggression if exposed for too long. the realisation makes him turn to his companions, oh-so-similar to the two women in his family he would willingly lay down his life for.
โwanning, lady choi.โ jian stops, his chest heaving from the effort of climbing another dune. he turns to face his companions, and his face contorts into something one can name as guilt, but jian would brand as failure. โi apologise. this desert is familiar to me, but i do not know a way out of it. all i know from what iโve read, is that we have to get out of here fast.โ
a large part of jian is glad to not be alone; wanning, an ever faithful member of house yue, and yura, of house choi, filled the many hours with conversation. he recounted many stories to them, ones that attempted to lighten the load of whatever burdens they carried. just when their footsteps began to grow weary, they spotted a fox spirit in the distance.
