asgardchrysalis | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Lan Wangji and Everyone and Anyone
What: Lan Wangji is has the flu and is pretending he does not have the flu as he's never actually been sick before due to being a super boss wizard back home. He is not amused.
When: Timed for March 8th
Where: around Asgard
Warnings: Ridiculous behavior from a grown man.

Lan Wangji has seen the healer in Asgard once, on his first day, and only under duress. He'd had an open wound and it was festering and in his relief to find Wei Wuxian alive and well he likely would have agreed to anything. There have been trips afterwards but related to Wei Wuxian's own injuries but that is where Lan Wangji has drawn the line. The Lan Sect does not fall ill to common ailments. Sickness of the body (separate from one's magic) is weak and a failure on the part of the cultivator. He cannot help still feel this way.

But he threw up in an alleyway and isn't certain where he is, so he may need to find a better place to hide his newfound failure.

He'd thought exercise and fresh air would help. He thinks. His memory is muddled and he is strangely sweaty despite the cool weather. Meditation had proven fruitless so this is surely the right recourse but he had overestimated his endurance. He's uncertain he's properly managed to do his hair but he knows his ribbon is in place as it is the only spot on his forehead that is currently cool. He must get home. This was a mistake. Wei Ying will find him and fuss at him and make him visit the healer. He turns, trying to gauge through sore, bleary eyes where he is when he finds himself sitting down suddenly on the ground. He is unsure why his legs have done this, why they have betrayed him. He hates them.

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"That is not how illness works," returns Wei Wuxian, though some of his quick-sparked ire fades as Lan Zhan slumps against Little Apple. "It was very cold in Yiling," he says. "Illness came for all of us, and I didn't have a core. Wen Qing kept all of us alive. Don't be so stubborn about me doing the same for you."

Lan Zhan opens his aching eyes, staring mournfully up at Wei Ying as he talks. He thinks about him cold and sick and alone in that horrible, blood pool filled cave and the ache behind his eyes doubles. He nods, pride rapidly draining in the face of Wei Ying's ire and a rising temperature.

"I threw up on the street," he says softly. "People saw."

Wei Wuxian smiles and kindly pats his hand. "No one will believe them," he says. "Hanguang-Jun, throwing up in the street? I barely believe you, and you are pale as death before me."

Catching Little Apple's bit, he steers them past Frigghaus' gates. "You can't train away illness, Lan Zhan. Normal people aren't like cultivators." Were they home, he has no doubt Lan Zhan could destroy a fever with both his magic and his considerable will, but they aren't home. "Getting ill isn't a sign of weakness. It's just what it means to be human."

He does not want to be normal. He does not want to be human and weak and a few weeks ago he might have said such a thing. But he can't, now, he can't say that to a Wei Ying that will never again have a core in either place, not really.

"Illness of the body is against Lan principles," he whispers, knowing he is being irrational but struggling just the same. "Don't let them keep me in there all night. Just medicines, Wei Ying. Nothing else," he pleads.

Wei Wuxian pauses, taking Lan Zhan's too warm face between his hands. "It isn't a prison," he promises. "They'll likely give us some medicines for you and send us home with strict instructions for you to rest, which you will do, if I have to tie you to your bed as well."

He sweeps his thumbs against his cheekbones before releasing him. "You are the bravest man I know, Lan Zhan. You can manage a few moments with a healer. And," he adds, more gently, "I'll be there the entire time."

Lan Zhan manages as close to a pout as he will allow himself as he pushes himself back to sit up, determined not to show up to the healer, riding a donkey and slumped over.

Uncle might find this even more undignified than he and Wei Ying's recent behavior.

"Wei Ying," he intones, as he notices pieces of hair fluttering into his face. He knows his ribbon made it on but he cannot remember much else about his morning grooming routine. "Is my hair messy?" He turns wide, aching eyes on him once more. He threw up in public with messy hair and then fell onto the ground.

Wei Wuxian eyes him. "Your ribbon is askew," he says after a moment, deciding not to quantify just how askew, stepping forward instead to tug it free. It only takes the barest pressure, and Wei Wuxian wraps it carefully around his wrist as his hands return to Lan Zhan's hair, pulling out the attempted topknot to start again.

He gives him the simpler style he'd favored in quiet moments in Gusu, reaffixing his ribbon in the center of his forehead when he's done. "Perfect."

His eyes flutter shut as Wei Ying pulls off the ribbon, the act still feeling so intimate. He loves how it feels, now. He loves that Wei Ying is exactly the person allowed to touch it, his partner and his love.

He does notice that Wei Ying has to entirely redo his hair and can only imagine how terrible he must have looked. He's grateful he managed to at least get his robes on, although he has a sinking suspicion he is wearing only two layers rather than the Lan required three.

"Thank you," he murmurs, opening his eyes and wishing very much he could give Wei Ying a kiss. "You are very good at this. Would have been a good healer."

"Perhaps in my third life," he tells Lan Zhan with a smile, kissing his forehead before he reclaims Little Apple's bit. The sooner they can get Lan Zhan his medicines and tucked safely - and extremely securely - into his bed, the better.

Not long after they enter, a man comes forward, staring at Lan Zhan with sad resignation. "Another flu victim, poor dear," he says, as Wei Wuxian hovers a hand near Lan Zhan's back, ready to fist his robes if he has to, "It is going around, even with the coming thaw. Such a shame." He clucks sadly at Lan Zhan, whom Wei Wuxian steps in front of.

"He does feel very poorly," he agrees, "But I'm sure he'll be all better with your medicines and rest, if you could direct us to them?"

Lan Zhan's pride is fickle and immediately vanishes to allow him to blatantly hide behind Wei Ying who Lan Zhan is eternally grateful towards for taking the lead so forcefully.

The flu. One of many victims of the flu. It's humiliating. And that man looks as if he would touch Lan Zhan if given half a chance. He tries to hunch and hide more thoroughly behind Wei Ying's narrow form.

"If he tries to touch me I will fight him," he mutters, only now realizing he's left Bichen behind in his room.

It seems unlikely, but after seeing him fight Su She while blackout drunk, Wei Wuxian is taking no chances. He guides Little Apple deeper into Frigghaus, serenely ignoring any and all disapproving stares at the donkey.

"Someone will want to touch you to gauge your fever," he tells Lan Zhan. "It can't be helped. Do you think you can endure it?"

Lan Zhan does a very poor job at suppressing a pout but he nods, a little more willing to be something like compliant now that he's seen how swiftly Wei Ying protects him.

He feels incredibly certain that they ought not have the donkey in a place of healing but he feels too ill and unnerved to dare say a thing about it.

Two wide eyes healers step in front of their strange threesome as they reach the private rooms for examination. "Sirs, we'll have to ask that the donkey does not enter the room. Which of you is in need of healing?"

Lan Zhan summons all of his meager, lasting courage and steps forward, as if it wasn't incredibly obvious. At least Wei Ying fixed his hair.

Little Apple brays, twisted sideways as the lead still tied between her bit and Lan Zhan's hands pulls. Wei Wuxian reaches out and undoes it, equally certain that the healers now have their answer. He slips the donkey an apple and helps to herd Lan Zhan into the little room.

"He's dizzy and confused and he's vomited at least once," he tells them to spare them the effort of extracting Lan Zhan's symptoms. "And so warm to the touch I could nearly cook an egg on him."

He cannot help but feel a little perturbed that these strangers know about his vomiting but he knows Wei Ying is trying to do what is best for him. However, he'd rather hoped that part could remain a secret known only to Wei Ying and the strangers who'd watched him do so.

"Sounds like the flu but be need to get some more information before we give medicine," the first healer says, gesturing for Lan Zhan to sit on the examination table. He does so, but only because the man does not try and immediately touch him. He settles stiffly, holding out a hand for Wei Ying to take. Surely nothing they do will require both his hands. "Open your mouth," the second healer commands, holding something like a glass stick in his hand very much like he means to place it inside.

Wei Wuxian slides his hand into Lan Zhan's, studying his mutinous expression before coughing into his free hand. "Ah, healer," he calls, widening his eyes, "I also felt nauseous earlier. You should check me, too."

He opens his mouth easily for the enchanted stick when it comes, squeezing Lan Zhan's hand until he does the same.

The healer looks between them, hesitating before nodding meaningfully at Wei Ying, as if this behavior is nothing he hasn't seen before.

At least not in his younger patients.

Lan Zhan sits up straighter, wanting to protest as the strange thing is put inside Wei Ying's mouth. It could be anything and Wei Ying had not said anything about feeling ill? If Wei Ying is also ill, Lan Zhan should have noticed.

The other healer takes advantage of Lan Zhan's distracted horror to pop the other instrument into his mouth, recoiling quickly when Lan Zhan glares at him. He looks back at Wei Ying, peering down at the stick in his mouth to try and gauge if Wei Ying is truly ill.

Wei Wuxian smiles around his stick and squeezes his hand again, not quite certain what the thing in their mouths is meant to be doing, but the healer seems content to leave it there for some time. Finally, the man returns and pulls Wei Wuxian's from his mouth, gazing down at it before nodding. "You're perfectly fine. And you," he continues, yanking the stick from Lan Zhan's mouth as one might wrest a baby from a viper -

"Ah. Your fever is very high. It's no wonder you've been feeling so confused."

"But medicines will help, won't they?" Wei Wuxian asks, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels.

"Oh certainly," says the healer, though some of his calm expression is fading now. "An injection will work the quickest. Preferably in the fleshiest area of his body." He bends close to Wei Wuxian, murmuring in his ear.

Lan Wangji may have a high fever (so they say) but he still retains his nearly perfect hearing.

"I do not have fleshy parts," he growls, standing upright with what he'd hoped would be a dramatic flourish but is closer to a sad bobble. He clutches Wei Ying's hand for balance and immediately starts scooting towards the door. "Do not need injections." He does not exactly understand what such a thing is and why the doctor is insinuating Lan Zhan's weight is less than ideal but he is certain this should all be over. "Took the magic stick. Want a pill. Goodbye."

Lan Zhan's sudden escape attempt is far less shocking than the words murmured into his ear. Wei Wuxian looks up at the healer with wide eyes. "That will not be possible, short of knocking him unconscious," he says bluntly. "Perhaps his arm, here or here?" he ventures, touching his own bicep and shoulder whilst tugging Lan Zhan back into the center of the room.

The healer hums in displeasure, but - "Very well. Get his sleeve off so I can clean the injection site. This will be the difference of feeling better in an hour rather than a day," he adds, loud enough for Lan Zhan to hear.

Wei Wuxian turns, guiding Lan Zhan back to the table. "One injection, and you'll feel so much better. What sense is there in not taking it, Lan Zhan?"

Lan Zhan is not precisely certain how he's ended up back at the table, too distracted by his own panic and Little Apple's braying from the hallway. He blinks up at Wei Ying and then the healer, now holding up some giant needle that he seems to think he will stick in Lan Wangji.

He is set to protest in the most violent ways he can think of when Wei Ying's voice cuts through. He can think of many reasons not to take the needle but very little that likely are sensible. Wei Ying wants him to do this. Wei Ying would not let anything hurt him.

"Trust Wei Ying," he murmurs, resting his head against Wei Ying's chest as he settles back down. His pathetic escape attempt has entirely winded him, wrung out his useless body. "Injection then home."

Wei Wuxian nods, taking a moment to stroke Lan Zhan's slightly matted hair as he rests against him. "I need to bare your shoulder," he says, loosening Lan Zhan's robes. He tugs at the collar until one bicep can be seen, which he angles towards the healer, and takes Lan Zhan's chin in his free hand.

"We'll go to Odinhaus," he says as the healer approaches, needle in hand. "We'll remain in bed all day and I will read you whatever books you wish, and bring you fresh rice and vegetables." The needle sinks in, and Wei Wuxian brushes his lips against Lan Zhan's too warm cheeks and forehead. "It's done, Lan Zhan."

Lan Zhan's eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of his skin bared to the room. He does not understand how men and women of this city go around with so little clothing on, all the time. He does not understand how it does not cause panic to be bared in such a way among strangers.

But his Wei Ying, his perfect Wei Ying knows all of this and his eyes reopen at the first touch to his chin. He listens, eyes locked on Wei Ying's as he talks through the entire thing, through the sting and the unfamiliar hands touching him and through his robe being resettled and hands withdrawing. His perfect Wei Ying.

He nods, ears now burning with shame as the healers keep their distance as if he might decide to strike at any moment.

"Bring him back immediately if he worsens," the bravest healer cautions, looking torn at the suggestion of ever bringing Lan Wanji back to their facility.

Lan Zhan stands again, leaning heavily against Wei Ying as he fusses to get his robes back in order. "Thank you, healers," he says softly.

"Yes, thank you!" Wei Wuxian calls far more brightly, accepting a pair of small, colorful orbs on the ends of little sticks. Frowning, he slips them into his pocket, followed by a small vial from which he's to put drops under Lan Zhan's tongue twice a day. Nodding, Wei Wuxian moves to get Lan Zhan out of here and back home where he'll be comfortable, smiling at him as he helps him back onto Little Apple.

"You were an excellent patient," he tells him proudly, leading them out of Frigghaus. "Do you want to rest in your room, or shall I find a book to read to you?"

Lan Zhan is uncharacteristically compliant as he allows Wei Ying to steer him onto Little Apple's back. He suspects Wei Ying is lying and that he behaved very badly, indeed. But they did call him fleshy and stick needles inside his arm so perhaps he was a little bit justified.

"Room already has books Wei Ying can read to me," he murmurs, hunching over as they attract more stares than he'd have thought possible in a city so strange. He cannot be the strangest thing happening, even at this moment.

"Why did they give you more healing sticks?" he asks, eyeing Wei Ying's robes. "Are they for judging fever? They already cured my fever."

"You're not cured," Wei Wuxian murmurs, digging the sticks out of his pocket. The colorful part of the orb turns out to be wrapping, and Wei Wuxian grins, pushing it between his lips. "It's candy!" he says, waving the other at Lan Zhan.

"Do you want yours?"