Work Text:
For all the trouble they had gone through, there was still more to be done. In her life, there always seemed to be too much that needed to be done.
Hua County was safer now, but Qing County was still reeling. The blood of enemies and traitors soaked into the earth undisturbed. The smoke that rose from Guo Village served as a stark reminder of the days that had just gone by.
There had been pomp and fanfare. In that short stretch of time, Cheng Shaoshang had lived the dream she thought she had lost for five years.
Her family, the Cheng Family, had all been there. Her brothers, older cousin, best friend, and their spouses. Her parents came to her rescue too, wielding sharpened swords on horseback.
It was a simple thing to declare that she and General Huo Buyi would marry in Hua County. They had waited for far too long.
The peace that had ensued disappeared in a sea of crimson. Along with the lucky red of the ribbons and lanterns that were strung outside, their robes of bright reds and golds, and the intricate ornaments in her hair came the wash of lifeblood.
No matter the peace, no matter the cost, the remnants of Emperor Li still came knocking on the doors of Qing County nearby. Buyi rushed off with his men, the promise of his return on his lips.
Her family had hardly gotten ready to leave them for their first night together, and only a day later Shaoshang found herself being left behind once more.
But she knew her duty and she knew her place. She had to keep the people of Hua County safe. She was a fighter in her own right, even if it was without the skill of a sword.
So Shaoshang pulled out her hair ornaments, twirling the bejeweled hairpin in her hands. She held onto the delicate carvings of peony flowers encrusted with gems, remembering the dowry Empress Xuan left behind for her.
At that moment, her memory gave Shaoshang comfort. She stood in the middle of the courtyard at the magistrate's manor. The sky dimmed into the night.
She admired the way the sky wells opened into starlight, how she could see every speck of white beaming down upon her that autumn evening.
Cheng Shaoshang waited because that was what she had always done. She waited because sometimes that was all she could do.
She sat on the steps leading up to the entrance. Her handmaid was fretting at her side.
"Please, my lady, you must come inside," she stuttered with worry. "What would General Huo say if he saw you out here so late at night?"
Shaoshang tilted her chin up in defiance. "He would say that he wouldn't expect anything less from me," she retorted.
She heard her scoff, but Shaoshang did not mind. She tugged her cloak around her tighter, the white fur along the collar brushing against her cheeks.
A haze began to settle upon the cobbles. A gentle mist rolled in. The lantern fires were a soft auburn glow in the distance, lighting the empty streets with pools of light. All was silent, not even a cart's wheels cracked on the stones.
She leaned her head against the doorframe. She did not realize she had fallen asleep until she had opened her eyes again.
It was the sound of the guqin that woke her. Its haunting, strummed tune lulled her into a sense of familiarity. Each pluck on the strings was a beat of her heart. The ashes of the past blew away, caught on a wind that led her to tomorrow.
She heard the shallow breaths that came with each thrum, each click of careful fingers, each creak of the dark wood of the instrument. And the music vibrated through her middle into her spirit.
She saw his hands then, tanned and scarred with cuts and streaks of dried blood. She gasped.
His hands stopped playing. The note was trapped halfway, singing to her as if telling her that she was needed. She rose from her bed, noticing the soft cotton sheets that had fallen off her figure.
"You're awake," Buyi said in a whisper. He had sat on a wooden stool next to her. "I meant to help you sleep."
Shaoshang looked at her new husband. He looked haggard and raw. His black armor was covered in soot. His topknot was loose, and strands of hair fell from it. One of his pauldrons was sliced through.
She reached for his cheekbone and thumbed away the dirt there.
"You're home," she said.
He leaned into her palm, a smile settling on his face. "I'm home," he agreed.
Once, a long time ago he had told her that he had seen the galaxy in her eyes. She could see the world in his, and she was grateful that she could be in his world too.
There was no end, no murmur of "Finally," when the time arrived. The world they lived in was brimming with war and fighting, with the emperor looking for ways to unify the entire continent. Yet, she knew that all of this was worth it because there were no second chances. Neither of them would get the years back, so they had to live for themselves, no matter their loyalty.
"Shaoshang," he whispered like it was the most precious thing he had ever said. He said her name the same way he played the guqin. She was named after the shaoshang string after all.
He said her name like the gentle pluck of an instrument, knowing full well that the music would never fall apart.
He pressed his forehead to hers. Their lips met. It was in the morning light that they had their first night together instead. Because that was who they were, people who made decisions against the grain instead of based on what their society told them to do.
They were stronger together. "Do what you want," he whispered against the shell of her ear. "I'll always protect you."
There were no more sleepless nights.
"I trust you," she whispered back. And she did.
Gone were the years where they were apart, where she had lost faith in him and her heart. Gone were the years when he traveled on the battlefield in search of death. All that was left was the heat of the love between them.
And when all was said and done, she washed the splatters of blood from his face, and he softened the calluses on her hands with his own warmth. The clouded water trailed down his cheek, washing the wounds away.