Hua Cheng and Quan Yizhen get hit by a de-aging curse that turns them into their 10 year old selves. Naturally, Xie Lian and Yin Yu take care of them while investigating how to reverse it. Unfortunately, Hong-er and Quan Yizhen take to the other like two stray cats forcefully shoved inside a small cage, hissing and spitting and yowling and growling and beating the shit out of the other on sight. Yin Yu looks away for one second and suddenly Yizhen is pouncing on Hong-er, punching the daylights out of him. Hong-er rips a chunk of hair out of Yizhen, both get bitten, blood gets spilled. Yin Yu is panicking while he drags a screaming Quan Yizhen away. Xie Lian is this close 🤏🏻 to throwing Quan Yizhen into He Xuan's lair.
They don't know what to do. Hong-er poured ink down Quan Yizhen's back, Quan Yizhen threw a live mouse at Hong-er's face, Hong-er locked Quan Yizhen inside a chest and, in retaliation, Quan Yizhen pissed all over Hong-er's Dianxia portraits. Hong-er had a meltdown in Xie Lian's arms and Yin Yu had a panic attack, which in turn made Quan Yizhen hide for eight hours of desperate search until Yin Yu thought to look under his own bed (he was there.)
"Why do you fight Quan Yizhen?" Asks Xie Lian, and Hong-er answers that Quan Yizhen started it.
Yin Yu asks Quan Yizhen why did he attack Hong-er, and Yizhen frowns and answers: "I don't like him" and refuses to elaborate.
They are so sweet otherwise. Hong-er brings every flower he finds to Xie Lian, hands anxiously twisting the hem of his clothes every time as if this time Dianxia won't like them. One time while cooking, Xie Lian glanced back and caught Hong-er praying to him and felt himself melt on the spot. Quan Yizhen tries to help Yin Yu with everything (and fails spectacularly), asking every two seconds if he did good, and smiling and wiggling every time Yin Yu tells him that yes, that was perfect Yizhen.
After a week of incidents, crying, screaming, broken vases and sleepless nights. Xie Lian, tired and desperate, brings them together to end this misery once and for all. He asks Quan Yizhen directly, and the boy doesn't answer, he asks again with a softer tone. Quan Yizhen frowns and kicks him on the shin, hard enough to make him stagger. Xie Lian is very impressed by that and doesn't see Hong-er in time to catch him before he attacks Quan Yizhen, clawing his face and screaming. Yizhen kicks and bites, thankfully forgetting all his martial training as they grapple on the floor. And while Xie Lian and Ruoye do their best to subdue them, Yin Yu stares at them as an horrible epiphany wacks him on the back of his head.
"Your highness," Yin Yu whispers, "that night, before Chengzu saw you, he panicked and tried to run away, so I picked him up... And he kicked me."
Xie Lian doesn't know whether to laugh or cry . "I take it Qi Ying saw it?"
Yin Yu nods miserably.
The next morning, Xie Lian coaxes Hong-er into apologizing to Yin Yu for kicking him, and Xie Lian explains Quan Yizhen Hong-er didn't mean it, he was just scared. Yin Yu, for his part, spent all night teaching Quan Yizhen a very long "I am sorry, your highness" speech, and makes him kowtow three times. Then he proceeds to do the same, both effectively groveling.
Xie Lian grimaces and interrupts the boy as he recites with a blank face and the enthusiasm of someone who's only doing this because his Shixiong asked.
"That's really too much..., there is no need,"
"I beg to differ, Your Highness," answers Yin Yu, still kneeling on the ground. He raises his head and glances at Hong-er.
Xie Lian really can't say anything to that.
Yin Yu nudges Yizhen, and the boy pulls out a golden bar from his sleeve and places it at Xie Lian's feet. "This Quan Yizhen uh.... Um... This Yizhen will... ah! This Yizhen swears to spend the rest of his days atoning for...! For his...?"
"Transgressions," whispers Yin Yu.
"Transgressions! And swears to keep others from laying their filth on His Highness' path, as this one once did. His Highness whims shall become this one's deeds. In penance, I place the West at your feet, Qi Ying's palace is at your service. And if this one's repentance cannot erase this one's grievous sins... Uhm... Give me a moment, I have a lot of rocks in here." Qua Yizhen rummages through his sleeve for a few seconds, and then triumphantly pulls out a dark box. "Found it! Um.. something something sins! In your hands I place the Waning Moon Officer's ashes-!"
"Yin Yu that's really not necessary!"
"It really is, your Highness," he says with a strained voice.
Quan Yizhen leaves the box on the floor, completely unaware of it's importance, and throws himself into Yin Yu's lap. "I did good, right? I only forgot one thing! Shixiong, Shixiong it came out right?"
Yin Yu sighs.
"Yes, Yizhen. You did well."
"That guy interrupted me in the end though, that was rude. Can we go?"
Yin Yu didn't know whether to laugh or cry or grab his shidi and find new employment under He Xuan.
Xie Lian shook his head, crouched and carefully took the box, placed it on Yin Yu's hands. He felt really fond of Yin Yu's earnestness, but truly, this was overkill (Yin Yu would beg to differ, and so would He Xuan if he was there, and so would Hua Cheng if he was 800 years older. As Hong-er though, he only agreed with his Highness because he didn't understand what the act meant. As it stood, he really wanted to push that other kid from a wall.)
Xie Lian waited until Yin Yu raised his head and said softly, yet firmly:
"Officer, I order you to guard this with utmost diligence. They belong to a dear friend of mine, who need not worry for his Shidi's wellbeing," Xie Lian smiled at Hong-er, who stopped glaring at the figures on the floor and smiled back. Not breaking eye contact with the boy, Xie Lian continued, enunciating each word clearly, "after all, said Shidi is also a dear friend, who always treated me with respect, and if something happened to him I'd be very, very sad."
Yin Yu stood up, holding Yizhen's hand in his and the box to his chest. He bowed, "This one apologizes for offending His Highness, this one knows his Highness to be kind and wise, and didn't mean to imply otherwise. This Waning Moon Officer shall do as his Highness commands,"
After that, the boys stop trying to kill the other on sight. And, after much coaxing and promises of candy and sparring sessions, they spend one peaceful hour interacting under the watchful gaze of the only people they cared about. The next day, they sat side to side. Quan Yizhen practicing kicks and Hong-er drawing, both tense in sullen silence. The day after that Quan Yizhen asks Hong-er to help him draw his Shixiong, and Hong-er accepts, both glance at the adults in the room for approval and smile giddily when they get it. The day after, Quan Yizhen teaches Hong-er how to throw a punch, and they mock fight until dinner time (which they eat separately,) . The day after that, the adults decide to leave them alone for exactly three minutes, they wait just outside the room, ear pressed to the door. At the minute mark, they hear the unfortunately familiar sound of two tiny boys doing their utmost best to brutally kill each other.
The day after that, the curse is broken.
Xie Lian takes Hua Cheng to Puqi shrine, desperate for some alone time with his husband. Though he misses Hong-er dearly, his husband's absence had been so painful that now he's drunk on giddy relief.
They work the fields, they make dinner together, and after they're done eating, Xie Lian asks what had been running through his mind.
"San Lang, you two were getting along so well, why did you start fighting again?"
Hua Cheng wrinkles his nose in a way that makes Xie Lian want to kiss him and says, "He didn't want to admit that Gege was better than Shixiong— I mean, Yin Yu. Ah Gege, don't make fun of your San Lang!" He whined.
Xie Lian did try to stop laughing, but not hard enough to accomplish it.
Once done, he wiped a tear and asked:
"Shixiong?"
Hua Cheng groaned.
"I didn't know what his name was! That animal kept talking about his Shixiong. Shixiong this, Shixiong that! so it stuck inside my head! I wanted to talk about his Highness this and that, but the little shit kept interrupting me!"
"Ahaha—"
There was a loud crash outside. Xie Lian jumped out of his seat, Hua Cheng's hand hovered above E-ming. Abruptly, The Martial God of the West barged into Puqi shrine.
Xie Lian relaxed and smiled, a greeting dying on his tongue as he was faced with a fulminanting glare coming from Quan Yizhen's usually stoic face.
Xie Lian sat back again, placed his hands on his knees and waited for the other god to speak.
Quan Yizhen huffed and bowed. Then, he slammed a gold bar on the table with such force the wood cracked. "You can't have him," He said, bowed again, and left.
Xie Lian was stumped. Silence reigned until Hua Cheng broke it by cackling. Wheezing, he fell off his chair.
"San Lang...? Do you know what that was about?"
Hua Cheng exhaled and smiled at his beloved. "Gege is so popular. I didn't know I had so much competition. Won't he tell me how many other ghosts have offered their ashes to him? Do I need to make Black Water a puddle for him to sleep in? Yin Yu may keep his room, but ah, Gege rejected my poor Waning Moon Officer, didn't he? How cruel, how sought after my God is."
Blood rushing to his cheeks, Xie Lian groaned and hid his face in his hands.
A moment later, Yin Yu's bashful voice spoke inside his head.
"I really didn't mean it like that, your Highness,"
Xie Lian made an embarrassed sound.
At least, he felt closer to laughing than to crying.
"I know."
"I apologize,"
"It's alright,"
"...May his Highness please ask Chengzu to stop calling me a homewrecker through my spiritual array?"
...
"Ah. I'm sorry, yes, of course."
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“ - but have you ever considered, I don’t know, not sucking all the time? Just a thought.”
It takes the combined grips of Nuisance and Hound to keep the wriggling, snarling body beneath Fox from throwing him off its back. With three years’ practice of having to fix his own rickety desk chair over and over again, the movement merely ruffles the proverbial fringe on his helmet.
“And I don’t mean that as an insult, necessarily. Well, I do a little bit. But also I have some amount of empathy for the no doubt immense amounts of trauma that had to go into the creation of something so dysfunctional as you, on a very personal level, so have you considered going to the root of that in a way that’s like… useful? Instead of wasting it all on kriffing Kenobi, I mean. Look at the guy. All he does all day is drink tea and commit warcrimes. I bet he knits for fun. Bit of an embarrassing nemesis, don’t you think?”
“I”, says Kenobi, then pauses. The space between his eyebrows is creased with uncertainty, and he looks deeply torn between continuing rocking the shaking Duchess of Mandalore against his chest from his corner of the throne room and re-activating his lightsaber to continue losing his fight against the Darksider Fox is currently sitting on. “I feel like I should object to some part of that, but I’m not entirely clear on what. Or how this happened, again. Isn’t Mandalore a few star systems from your purview, Commander?”
“Probably the warcrimes”, mutters Nuisance underneath his strained breath.
“About as far from my supposed assignment as yours, General”, says Fox a little louder.
Kenobi twitches. Fox cannot claim to know which of them does it. Both, maybe. Probably.
“I will - taste - your - flesh!”, heaves out Darth Maul, snarling and hissing.
“Oooh, kinky!”, calls Grids, from the corner where she’s got her stun-setting aimed at the other Zabrak, currently passed out cold. Fox sighs deeply. He knew he shouldn’t have taken those three - any combination of Grids, Hound and Nuisance in a room together usually spelled chaos.
Unfortunately, it also spelled competence. The Basic alphabet can be funny that way.
The point being: as of some months into the war, one of Fox’s assigned tasks is the surveillance of all GAR-wide communication. All command-class staff theoretically got that memo, but no one seems to have read the fine print where that includes both professional and personal communication, as well as any and all comm devices registered or suspected to be registered to that person. Especially not one Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala.
The point further being, if that sounds both immensely impractical and sort of terrifying in a democratic supposedly non-surveillance state, you’d be bang on the credits, and to Fox’ eternal chagrin the singular person in this whole useless army who’s spent the second of thinking necessary for that conclusion.
The final point being, when one frantic General’s mad dash across the Galaxy to rescue his teenage sweetheart from the spectre of his supposedly dead nemesis crosses his desk on its way to the Chancellor’s inbox, it doesn’t take much time for him to block any and all trace of it across the digital space of the GAR commboard and take matters into his own hands.
“ - which is why I told Thorn to suck it up and be in charge for a few days, and also why you’re still alive, your Highness, very welcome, was no trouble at all”, he concludes, drily. The Duchess stares the wide-eyed look of someone attempting to reconcile clones with ‘sentience’ or perhaps ‘personality’ in her head, but won’t say it outright.
Or the look of someone who’s just been violently overthrown and nearly murdered, perhaps, Fox allows.
“Um -“, Kenobi hedges, blinking rapidly.
“And the reason you’re still alive, probably. You’re welcome for that too, by the way”, Grids calls from the back of the throne room, cheekily.
“Alright”, says Kenobi, loudly. There’s color back in his deathly-pale cheeks, Fox notes, even if that color is a lot of red. It doesn’t fade very gracefully into his beard. “Opinions on whether or not I had everything under control notwithstanding -“
“You really didn’t”, Hound supplies helpfully.
“ - opinions notwithstanding, I am admittedly still lost on why you’re now sitting on Darth Maul and attempting to, to - jeer at him, Marshall Commander!”
“We’re not jeering, we’re trying to create a safe space and lay the groundwork for more open communication”, Fox says, primly.
Maul screams into the ground, attempting for the umpteenth time to rear up and visit great violence upon Fox, which admittedly has him rattling in his crosslegged seat atop his back.
Kenobi raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Safe space?”
“He’s restrained and not stabbing anyone, I personally feel much safer than before”, Grids muses. “Watch the teeth though, Hound. Little biter.”
Indeed. Fox’s right greave will have to be replaced posthaste.
“And anyways, the point isn’t to jeer at him, it’s to make clear that he’s focusing his energy in the wrong places and could be doing much better things with his admittedly not-great life”, Fox adds, shifting to cast a pointed look down at Maul. The Sith is panting open-mouthed into the durasteel floor, sharp teeth gnashing wildly as his piercing yellow eyes shine with barely restrained rage. “I’m just saying - aim higher. You aren’t seeing the forest for the Kenobis, Maul. Can I call you Maul?”
“I will feed you your own entrails”, yowls Maul.
“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Right now, I’m an easy target to focus all that built-up rage on, but is killing me really going to help you achieve any of your goals? No! Think about it - when it all comes down to it, who sent you on that mission to Naboo in the first place? Who made sure the Jedi and, by extension, Kenobi would be there to kill you? Who used you as a dejarik piece and then cast you aside the second you outlived your usefulness?”
Beneath him, Maul slowly stills in his struggle, still panting heavily. Hound and Nuisance don’t let it deter them in their vigilance, because they’re damn good vod’e and possess an ounce of common sense.
“And, look, I get it. I could spend the rest of my life punching every civilian who spits on me in the streets and it would even be satisfying. I could hit back the Senators who think of clones as easy targets. Or - I can aim my sights at who’s on top. And I think you know who I mean, because you know as well as I do the same damn man has ruined both our lives.”
Kenobi makes an alarmed noise, and Maul an interested one - not that Fox is going to let him walk out of this place awake. Still, he tilts his head in a way he hopes conveys his helmeted grin successfully to non-vod, as well as the bloodlust behind it. “You’re also welcome for the fact that the Chancellor won’t have heard of your spontaneous resurrection yet, by the way. You’ll retain your element of surprise instead of gambling it away on petty revenge on Kenobi.”
“He cut me in half!”
“He killed my master!”
Fox waves their protests away.
“Also, that’s treason!”, Kenobi adds, sputtering. Fox grins. Kenobi purses his lips, and continues. petulantly, “…do you have any proof?”
“So. Much. Proof”, says Nuisance, dreamily. “Like, do you want it alphabetically or by date?”
Which is when the Duchess, of all people, bursts out into barking, crazed laughter.
“You - you’ve certainly given yourself an edge in that fight, Marshall Commander”, she wheezes, brushing tears from her eyes. Fox raises his eyebrows at her, which she somehow seems to be able to tell, because she gestures at the clunky handle dangling from his belt.
“What, this old thing?” He unclasps the black rectangle from its hook, holding it up in the air. Maul stills strangely beneath him, and Kenobi goes ghostly pale again. Fox is starting to get a bad feeling.
“I took it off Viszla and beat him over the head with it. I figured he’d taken it off a Jedi cadet or something. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
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