Chapter Text
When he was young, Xie Lian despised being out at sea. He would often get seasick by the steady back-and-forth rocking of the ship. The saltiness of the air and feverish heat from the sun didn’t help, so young Xie Lian would stay cooped up in his cabin below deck, holding his nauseated stomach.
The royal family frequently traveled across the oceans to maintain strong relationships with allied kingdoms. Therefore, Xie Lian wasn’t spared from the dreadful sailing trips. He eventually got used to the long days on the water without worrying himself ill, though it took many restless days and nights distracting himself from the surrounding stretches of blue that went on for ages.
Now, Xie Lian barely notices the subtle bobbing of the ship’s movements, cradled by the natural currents passing through. It’s not exactly peaceful, per se, but a mere constant that he welcomes with a numb mind. Currently sat at the vanity inside his chamber, still on the lower deck, Xie Lian stares wordlessly into the mirror, the intricate embellishments around the frame creating an illusion of warped vines and limbs.
His reflection blinks back tiredly, mouth set into an unhappy frown.
If his mother and father were to see him now, their disapproval would twist Xie Lian’s insides until the corners of his lips lifted to resemble a perfect smile. After all, princes must be charming and cordial, self-assured and righteous. Being anything less than an utmost pleasure to the public’s eye was unacceptable.
Until the day he weds, that is. After that, his behavior is expected to change to best accommodate his wife and the promise of children, his kingdom’s prosperity, and a long, honorable life. This was Xie Lian’s pre-conceived future, one that he had accepted years ago, but which felt like lifetimes away.
Alas, time waits for no one. Only one month prior had Xie Lian’s father informed him of his arranged engagement to a princess from a faraway kingdom.
***
“Father, I’m not ready,” Xie Lian pled, kneeling in front of the king, who sat on his throne in the private hall.
“Nonsense! You are beyond ready,” his father declared resolutely. “We cannot put training above your marriage any longer. A twenty-five-year-old prince with no spouse is a disgrace itself.”
Before Xie Lian could respond, the queen jumped in with words of her own.
“Your father is right, honey. It’s time you get a wife and begin the next chapter of your life. Don’t you want that?” she asks, placing her hand atop her husband’s, giving it a small squeeze.
It’s an indirect question: “Don’t you want to make us proud?”
Xie Lian trained his eyes on their feet so they wouldn’t see the devastation brewing within his irises. Appealing to the Xianle people, he could do. Taking on various studies to become the top educated prince, he could do. Practicing gratitude, discipline, and heavenly worship, Xie Lian could do.
But to be in a loveless marriage...a part of Xie Lian would die through a union of duty. While Xie Lian could wed a wonderful princess with the kindest soul and most clever mind, he would never come to love her. Not like a husband should love a wife.
That’s what saddened him the most. Xie Lian would end up locking him and his wife in superficial wedlock with the responsibilities for both kingdoms weighing down on their shoulders. Despite that this was how most arranged marriages went, Xie Lian knew that he ultimately wouldn’t be able to give his wife what she needed.
But his parents would hear none of it.
“You will set sail to the South to retrieve your soon-to-be-wife, as it is not appropriate for a princess to travel the seas by herself. Do you understand, son?” The king questioned with a tone of finality.
Xie Lian didn’t hesitate in lowering his head in acceptance, a quiet “Yes, father,” slipping effortlessly from his lips.
In those fifteen minutes, Xie Lian had sealed his fate in a path he did not choose.
***
Long hair. Pale foundation. Gem-stoned earrings. Satin robes.
Xie Lian scrutinizes his image in the mirror, dissatisfied, even though this presentation was well-acknowledged among commoners, nobility, and royalty alike. Someone once told him what mattered is not the state of oneself, but simply living as oneself. To be true. To be real. The feelings of guilt and shame arise when an outsider judges one’s surface, and to directly quote this person, “ Who gives them the right to determine your worth?”
Regardless, Xie Lian was born into this life. He lives per the demands of others, and in return, he receives their love. Craning his head around, Xie Lian observes his fully furnished cabin for the hundredth time. Clothes of the finest fabrics hang from inside his closet, vivid blues and rich purples a stark contrast to the plain, white robes Xie Lian currently wears. There are antiques and collectibles from around the world, offered as tributes from people of all places. Not that Xie Lian has any use for them other than admiring such detailed craftsmanship.
His gaze sweeps over the bundle of books crammed into a sturdy, bamboo bookshelf. The queen had insisted Xie Lian take them on his journey to pass time by while still being productive. On top of the shelf sits the basket of his favorite snacks a fellow friend, Shi Qingxuan, had sent him with. Finally, in a large glass case tucked next to his bed, a magnificent sword lies strapped on a velvet cushion. It was a gift from the king when Xie Lian turned ten years old–a weapon to be treasured until the prince could properly handle its size and weight.
With a detached sigh, Xie Lian turns back to his vanity, now taking in the numerous beauty products, calligraphy brushes, and jewelry. His fingers find a gold ring with a dozen diamond-encrusted ornaments in the middle. Holding it up to the mirror, Xie Lian carefully slides the ring onto his ring finger, flipping his palm away to gauge the visual of wearing the ring.
It looks stunning.
But it feels wrong.
Xie Lian quickly slips the ring off, shoving it back into the small box. Looking back into the spotless mirror, the prince practices smiling as if it were his wedding day. But the harder he tries, the tighter his teeth clench and the more his throat clogs up. Xie Lian shakily exhales, shaking his head as he gives up.
For now.
Unconsciously, Xie Lian touches his hair, his earrings, his neck leading down to the parted collar of his robes, getting more frantic as his fingers rub along each area. The frame of the mirror constricts his reflection, and the wealth Xie Lian adorns as a representation of his character feels awful . It’s suffocating, but for some reason, Xie Lian’s breath quickens, his heartbeat speeding up at an ungodly rate.
The ship suddenly jerks sideways, startling Xie Lian as he flinches in his seat. When the ship tips the other way, he knows something is wrong.
On cue, a series of hasty knocks sound on the prince’s cabin door. Xie Lian allows his features to relax into a dejected expression before he stands up and opens the door. Two royal guards greet him with panic-stricken faces.
“My prince, our ship is under attack,” one of them informs, bowing his head in respect. “We advise you not to come out of your chambers until we rid the ship of all threats.”
“I see,” Xie Lian mumbles softly, bowing his head in return, even though he’s of a much higher status than his guards. Nevertheless, they are the ones who dedicate their lives to ensure his well-being. “Who has invaded our ship?”
Both guards share a nervous look, then turn toward their prince with a newfound urgency.
“Crimson Rain,” the second guard says gravely. Xie Lian’s breath stutters at the title, and his hands ball into twin fists. He still feels the phantom hug of the ring on his finger.
“Do not worry, Prince Xianle. We will take care of those scoundrels. For now, keep your door locked. Don’t come out until we say it’s safe,” the first guard rushes out.
They bow once more, but Xie Lian does not process their words. He only manages a weak, “Please be careful,” before turning around and shutting the door.
Xie Lian goes back to his vanity but doesn’t sit down. Instead, he prepares himself for battle, switching his fancy robes for lighter, tighter-fitting attire suitable for fighting. Next, he ties his hair back, keeping his signature white ribbon by wrapping it around the top bun. Xie Lian finds the most worn-out pair of boots he has, lacing them up mindlessly.
When he stands in front of the mirror, Xie Lian looks like a completely different person. Though his face remains smooth and his complexion flawless, the rest of his appearance renders him aggressive and even lethal .
He relishes this image.
Xie Lian waits a few more minutes for extra measure, then takes out the sword he’s had since he was ten years old, now able to put it to good use once again. Xie Lian pushes his cabin door open and walks directly out into a morbid battlefield brewing with danger and destruction.
***
Clink! Clank! Clink!
The violent clashing of metal-on-metal fills Xie Lian’s ears as he enters the scene.
Clink! Clank! Crack!
Cannons go off on both ends, each time rupturing the turbulent atmosphere.
Blood roars in his ears.
Every sound feels distant–almost muffled–yet simultaneously intensified. The prince passes several guards fending off the enemy, uniform gold and white against mismatched grays and blacks. Xie Lian remains unperturbed as he makes his way to the main deck of the ship.
He doesn’t wish to waste his time on pirates with ragged clothes and vulgar obscenities.
“Your Highness, what are you doing out here!?” One of the royal guards screams from a level above.
“Prince Xianle, please go back inside your cabin where it’s safe!” Another one warns, but he’s immediately tackled by a pirate whose growl sounds more monster than human. Xie Lian pays their objections no mind, ordering his guards not to be distracted and to keep fighting.
It can be described as cruel, the way the prince disregards the very thing these guards are putting their lives on the line for. Even in actual warfare, Xie Lian doesn’t experience extreme feelings of anxiety or terror. Perhaps Xie Lian has desensitized himself of these feelings, albeit in different contexts.
Dying is not his greatest fear.
Xie Lian leaps from the side of the ship that is most secured against enemy attacks to the side that is openly exposed. There, Xie Lian sees a massive ship donning maple-red flags anchored next to the royal ship. Five retractable ramps extend from the pirate ship, granting the enemy access to the royal ship.
Plenty of pirates now circle Xie Lian with interested eyes, interrupting his passive search. Xie Lian’s instincts kick in. He surges forward with impeccable speed, knocking away every enemy that blocks his path. He stabs one right in the gut and flings another into one of the wooden posts.
Xie Lian goes through the motions that he has trained over thousands of times, maddeningly alert in the wake of combat. The bedazzled sword heats up in his hold, serving its master with every twist, splice, and slash. Xie Lian never lets himself be cornered, too swift and practiced to have any blind spots.
After fifteen minutes of pushing back the enemy, XL has temporarily cleared out the area. His attention returns to scanning the opposite ship—Ghost Ship is what it’s called. Xie Lian narrows his eyes, putting one boot on the ramp, looking and listening in anticipation.
The strain of rope being pulled taut is all he needs to hear before he whirls around and blocks the swing of a giant sword–a scimitar. It is thinner and longer than Xie Lian’s own, but wielded with the same amount of brash force.
Xie Lian peers up into the eyes of Crimson Rain.
“We meet again, dear Prince,” the pirate captain purrs, leaning forward to put more pressure on the push of his sword. Xie Lian scoffs, purposefully letting his sword be pushed to the side so he can bolt under Crimson Rain’s arm.
“I must say, it’s quite rude to come uninvited,” Xie Lian says with distaste. He maintains a sideway stance, sword held high as the pirate slowly turns around. The vicious look in Crimson Rain’s left eye sends sparks of electricity down Xie Lian’s spine
“I’m afraid if I were to wait for an invitation, I’d never meet the acquaintance of the prince or his sword again,” Crimson Rain retorts, having the ever-so-sharp tongue. He matches the Prince of Xianle’s posture, standing a good ten centimeters taller than Xie Lian.
This time, it is Xie Lian who makes the first move to attack, aiming his sword in a series of precise jabs to penetrate Crimson Rain’s defenses. The pirate, however, intercepts every one of Xie Lian’s advancements. When their swords collide in a locked battle of strength, Xie Lian glares up at Crimson Rain, spitting out, “I’d expect nothing less from a pirate.”
The aforementioned pirate merely chuckles at that, tilting his head down so their foreheads almost touch.
“I am humbled the prince keeps this lowly pirate in his thoughts,” he says. Both of them abruptly pull back, now aware of the onslaught of shouting from guards and pirates observing their duel from the side while still engaged in their own battles.
“Don’t lose to a filthy royal, Captain!”
“Your Highness, be careful!”
“Finish him, Captain Chengzhu!”
“Protect the prince at all costs!”
Xie Lian breathes heavily, never taking his eyes off of Crimson Rain. The pirate playfully twirls his swords adorned with blood-red jewels, clicking his tongue as if to entice the prince. When Crimson Rain dips down into a lunge, preparing to pounce, Xie Lian steels himself for another barrage of strikes.
This is what he has been training for his whole life.
Ivory and scarlet slam and jam against each other like a fast-paced sequence, a choreographed dance of death that becomes more thrilling the longer it goes on. They are unnervingly matched, predicting their opponent’s next moves with an accuracy that only comes with having dueled on multiple occasions before.
Xie Lian manages to land a well-timed punch on the side of Crimson Rain’s ribs as the pirate spins around to dodge his sword. When the pirate grunts in pain, Xie Lian has time to retreat to the next level; Crimson Rain automatically follows, like a game of tag, of cat and mouse, a predator intent to catch and devour its prey.
“You can’t run from me forever, Your Highness,” Crimson Rain taunts, using one of the ropes to follow Xie Lian to the area where the wheel spins in absence of its navigator.
“Perhaps you are saying that because you cannot keep up?” Xie Lian challenges with a raised brow.
This comment renders the pirate captain suspiciously silent, a newfound glint appearing in his narrowed eye. As Xie Lian knocks away the foot Crimson Rain attempts to roundhouse kick into his side, the pirate’s mouth forms an entertained snarl, tongue peeking out to lick across his front teeth.
It’s the most animalistic expression the prince has seen on Crimson Rain’s face, and for a split second, Xie Lian’s stomach drops in fear.
He just pierced the beast.
A drop of water hits the tip of Xie Lian’s nose. He briefly registers that it has started raining. Sinister storm clouds gather in the pink-and-orange-streaked sky, and Crimson Rain’s gaze looks more menacing than ever.
“Prince Xianle,” Crimson Rain proclaims, walking forward unhurriedly, the heel of his boots clicking loudly against the deck. “Allow me to properly demonstrate a pirate’s stamina.”
Xie Lian can barely lift his sword in time to block Crimson Rain’s next blow, bursting with even more power than previous attacks. It’s so powerful that it sends Xie Lian back a few steps. Not even a second later, another blow comes in a spot that Xie Lian was not expecting, right next to his lower hip. The prince stumbles to his knee after blocking.
The following succession of unmerciful swings perfectly showcases the pirate captain’s scimitar’s impressive length. After the fifth drive that swipes just below Xie Lian’s chin, the prince tumbles back down the stairs that lead from the wheel area to the main deck.
Tiny puddles soak the deck, too slippery for Xie Lian to find a grip with his heel to stand up.
The next stroke smacks his sword out of his hand, disarming Xie Lian from the conquest of the pirate captain. Crimson Rain smiles down in triumph at the prince sprawled on the deck floor. His scimitar flicks forward faster than Xie Lian can comprehend, the rain further obscuring his vision.
“Ah, what do we have here?” Crimson Rain questions, lifting his wrist slightly so the tip of his sword tugs on the inside of the object it’s caught on. Despite wanting to yell it is none of the pirate’s business, Xie Lian bites his lip, choosing not to answer. This does not deter his opponent, who chuckles lowly while eyeing Xie Lian’s neck.
A silver ring, connected to a simple chain, dangles helplessly off the tip of Crimson Rain’s scimitar.
White noise rings through Xie Lian’s ears, replacing the brutal assaults of battle until they fade away into the background. Beads of rain make contact with Xie Lian’s face, soaking his hairline and his clothes. But nothing else matters in this moment besides the ring Crimson Rain holds hostage, away from Xie Lian’s heart.
“It’s common courtesy to answer when someone asks a question, little Prince,” the pirate captain sings, pulling tighter on the ring until the chain feels like it’s going to snap.
“No!” Xie Lian gasps worriedly. His hands fly to grasp the ring, effectively unhooking it from Crimson Rain’s sword, but cutting his right hand in the process. Blood immediately oozes from the small wound, cleansed by the rain and sliding down to splash onto the deck.
Xie Lian grimaces while inspecting his hand. His other palm closes around the ring protectively, pressing the cool surface to his lips. The prince unconsciously closes his eyes, memories flooding his mind, letting through five year’s worth of forbidden euphoria.
He envisions the grungy tavern on the outskirts of the Kingdom of Xianle, where Shi Qingxuan had convinced him to sneak out to explore outside the palace walls. He can taste the muskiness in the air, hear the drunken pandemonium. Shi Qingxuan had eventually gone off to gamble–particularly well-versed in wagering despite being of nobility status–leaving Xie Lian sitting at the bar alone, unsure of what to order.
Xie Lian remembers a mysterious figure taking the seat to his left, draped in a red overcoat with an eyepatch covering his right eye. The stranger did not hesitate to call the bartender over, ordering two beverages with a slight lilt in his baritone voice. Xie Lian awkwardly fixed his gaze onto his glass of iced tap water, hoping his common robes, untied hair, and makeup-less face would go unrecognized.
That, and the fact that he had no experience ordering or drinking alcohol, even at twenty-years-old.
The bartender brought over the eye-patched man’s drinks, setting them down with a thunk! Xie Lian was content to watch for the stranger’s drinking partner from his peripheral vision, perhaps even pick up on how to drink in the proper manner. He would be damned if he didn’t learn one useful thing during this night of freedom.
However, Xie Lian was not prepared for the man to grab one glass and slide it in his direction. Xie Lian froze in his seat, sitting with his back ram-rod straight, hands neatly placed in his lap. Should he kindly refuse the offer? Unsupervised drinking was certainly risky. Or should he take a cautious sip? He would think that was the polite thing to do.
But before Xie Lian could react, the man casually angled his body towards him, leaning his elbow on the bar and propping his face with his palm.
His next words made Xie Lian’s heart come to a complete halt.
“Good evening, Your Highness.”
Xie Lian’s memories abruptly shift, and he is transported to the day when he first saw Ghost Ship. It appeared out of nowhere, easily twice the size of the traveling ship Xie Lian had taken to a neighboring kingdom. When the royal guards jumped to attack, Xie Lian simply held a hand up, stopping them in their tracks.
The prince walked to the side of his ship, assessing the Ghost Ship with keen eyes. Ghost Ship was traveling at a faster speed, quickly passing the royal ship by with no intention of initiating battle. When the better half of its length sailed beyond Xie Lian’s sight, the man steering the wheel came into view. As if in slow motion, Xie Lian locked eyes with the man, who donned familiar red and an eyepatch, and also wore a signature captain’s hat.
A captain. A pirate captain, Xie Lian remembers thinking, captivated by those broad shoulders, tattooed skin, and eccentric clothes. The same pirate captain circles in on him like a hungry shark, scimitar scraping along his arms and back, tearing the drenched fabric of his robes.
“Who knew the Prince of Xianle cares so much for a plain piece of metal?” Crimson Rain continues spitting his words like poison.
Xie Lian curls in on himself, trembling.
When pirates began uncharacteristically wreaking havoc on the docks of Xianle’s ports, Xie Lian often rushed to the scene to fend them off himself. Specifically, a pirate who could give Xie Lian a run for his money when it came to sword fighting, but always escaping with an evil smirk painted across his lips.
A few months later, Xie Lian would snuck out of the palace once again to the very same dock at the end of the port, where a certain pirate awaited him.
The images flitting through his mind now blur together, becoming unrecognizable except for the sensations imprinted on his body.
A warm body claiming him in a king-sized bed, among silken sheets and the pale glow of the moonlight streaming through the window. It was almost too dark to make out the man on top.
Almost.
One lust-filled eye bore down at Xie Lian.
“You like that, Your Highness?” the baritone voice growled against his ear.
Xie Lian hears his answering moan play inside his head and inhales sharply.
Between the secret meetings came secret letters specially addressed to the prince. They appeared with the changing winds, anonymously delivered under the pretense of confidential mail sent from other royalty. But no one could imitate that atrocious handwriting, nor invoke the same joy from Xie Lian when seeing his favorite red, butterfly seal.
Isabella’s Lullaby – Takahiro Obata
“It’s from someone special,” Xie Lian grits out, hanging his head low. The ring–presented to him with the most tender gaze and gentle hands–symbolizes hope. A promise of unconditional love.
“Trust me,” a low whisper ghosted against Xie Lian’s temple. “I’ll come back for you.”
And Xie Lian believed him.
That was one year ago. The spontaneous visits stopped, and so did the carefully crafted letters. With no one to confide in, Xie Lian spiraled down underneath everyone’s expectations and his own realized failure. He had been foolish. Blind. Naive .
Within that one-year period, Xie Lian lost faith.
Not in his love. Never in his love.
But in destiny. In free will. In god.
The one thing, one person , he needed most in this lifetime, was no longer within his reach.
Until now.
“Where will you run now, dear Prince?” Crimson Rain’s voice brings Xie Lian back to the present. His eye holds none of the familiar warmth it once did when he slipped the very same silver ring onto Xie Lian’s finger.
The rumbling and squeaking of footsteps make their way towards the pair, Xie Lian’s royal guards abandoning the protection of the ship to come to their prince’s aid instead. But even as Xie Lian gazes up at Crimson Rain’s, brandishing that strong jaw and classy smirk, the prominent eye patch, and the shimmering eye that radiates insanity , Xie Lian feels a certain sense of peace wash over him.
It’s finally time.
Xie Lian gives the pirate captain a hostile smirk of his own, taking out the white ribbon holding up his hair and letting the rain weigh down his brunet locks.
“Hua Cheng,” Xie Lian croons knowingly, widening his eyes in faux innocence. The instant look of surprise on Crimson Rain’s face is all Xie Lian needs before kicking the pirate’s sword to the side, scattering it a few meters away. Xie Lian dives for the exact sword, adjusting to the new weight and shape of the weapon. His palm throbs where the cut splits further open, blood staining the hilt.
Xie Lian swiftly points the sword at Hua Cheng’s jugular, their positions now switched.
Now, it is the pirates who are yelling chaotically, demanding their captain not let a rotten prince get the best of him. Hua Cheng simply clicks his tongue, signaling his men to retreat.
“Your Highness...” the pirate captain murmurs. Xie Lian digs the sword more insistently into Hua Cheng’s skin, forcing the pirate back. Xie Lian herds him onto the official plank, where traitors are typically executed, sentenced by the prince himself.
“Back. Up,” is all Xie Lian offers bitterly, his long hair curtaining his face, body still tense even though he has the upper hand. Hua Cheng holds his hands up in surrender, his own hair drenched with rain, the long braid crooked where it cascades down his right shoulder.
“Xie Lian,” Hua Cheng addresses in a sweeter tone. “My dear Prince, if you could see yourself now.”
Xie Lian swallows thickly.
“You are a beautiful sight,” Hua Cheng rasps out, no more than a whisper. Yet, Xie Lian catches every word, and his heart clenches painfully.
Of course, Hua Cheng would think that.
Xie Lian’s sword wavers, but only because the pouring rain has stolen every bit of warmth as it washes down his body, making him shiver. The prince knows everyone’s attention is on them, the royal guards cheering their prince on in hopes that this conflict will end in their victory.
But they remain unaware of their biggest defeat.
The Prince of Xianle had fallen in love with a pirate.
With an unbearably heavy heart, Xie Lian draws his sword back. Tears leak out of his eyes and stream down his face, mixing in with the rain. In this very moment, Xie Lian feels the most suffocated he’s ever been, and wonders if this is truly what it feels like to be on the brink of death.
As if it happens in slow motion, Xie swings the sword with all the power he possesses. Hua Cheng’s arms stretch open in vulnerability, lips forming into a small, understanding smile.
“Gege.”
Something inside Xie Lian shatters. The familiar term of endearment is for Xie Lian’s ears only. His heart pounds against his rib cage with the ferocity of an imprisoned soul, screaming at Xie Lian to ask not what he would wish for in death, but what is he willing to live for?
The answer is right in front of him.
“I’m back.”