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31_days2014-11-15 01:02 pm
issen4.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2014-11-15 01:02 pm
Nov 15, 2014 [The Swordsman, 2013 TV version] [Not Playing House]
Title: Not Playing House
Day/Theme: Nov 15, 2014 "Hope is a thing with feathers, it is part of love, it is a bad supper, it is close to faith."
Series: The Swordsman, aka Smiling, Proud Wanderer by Jin Yong, 2013 TV version
Character/Pairing: Linghu Chong/Ren Yingying, prev Linghu Chong/Dongfang Bubai
Rating: PG
Notes: This is specific to the 2013 TV version where Dongfang Bubai was a woman in disguise, and the script signficantly altered parts of canon.
They had snuck up to Siguo Cliffs, mischief lightening Linghu Chong's heels and joy lifting Yingying's feet, along with him. The fact was that there was now little need of such sneaking around, of course: the newest chief whose territory they had intruded was far too busy rebuilding the Huashan Sect to bother with harmless individuals seeking the sights of Huashan and recalling the turmult of all those years past. But Linghu Chong still delighted in wandering the land of rivers and lakes under his anonymous guise, and she was happy to accompany him.
They would winter in warmer climes later, but for now the mountains were in full bloom, and he recalled that in far more innocent times he had spent long afternoons and evenings lazing around, practising his sword, or simply drinking the nights away with fellow disciples that were now gone.
And with his favourite Lingshan, before things had gone so wrong between them. He looked at his wife, who was now asleep against his shoulder, and for a moment felt the melancholy of the years weigh upon his back, and spared a wry smile for the youth he once was. No, even in those days when he had been ordered by his teacher to spend a year up here in isolation to reflect on his sins, he had not been wholly undisturbed in his devotion to Lingshan. Slow as he was to admit it, it was in these cliffs that Miss Dongfang had come to see him - when he had found that his friend was in reality a woman - and a connection had grew up between them.
He was not so naive then either, however much he wished at that time, to re-imagine a black-and-white world where the so-called demonic sect was wholly evil and had to be exterminated, any more than he could ignore the fact that Miss Dongfang was surely more than she seemed. She seemed to be too young for the depth and skill of her martial arts; she was undeniably beautiful; she acted, and spoke to him with a directness and frankness that spoke to his own forthright nature.
And she was- he stared up at the clear sky above. She had proven to be the most feared Dongfang Bubai, the leader of the powerful 'demonic' sect that his own sect and allies were determined to destroy. That was the truth. She was no innocent but had murdered hundreds in her climb to power. She was no kind-hearted maiden but a cruel monster. He should have accused her of deceiving him, of manipulating him, of being the ultimate villainess in his world. He should have known. He had known she was more than she seemed, and he had always disregarded those differences between them, seeing only the person that she was with him. She was deceptive, yet forthright in her own way, and she lingered in his consciousness far longer than he would have thought.
Only Yilin had perceived it, innocent little Yilin who had a crush on him yet only wished him happiness.
Only, what future could there ever be for them? It was difficult enough to be with Yingying, who had managed to keep out of the worst of power struggles in her sect, and in their world. How much more impossible it would be if he and that unknown Miss Dongfang had sought to be together? She had known it, of course: a Dongfang Bubai who had plotted her way to power and who was ruthless enough to kill for it - of course she possessed enough intelligence and rationality to know. He knew it too. He had released that spark between them before he could ever articulate it, before any hope could grow, and engaged instead Yinging's affections, returning it in turn, nurturing the love between them.
Now all that were left were memories. He hoped she was at peace.
Day/Theme: Nov 15, 2014 "Hope is a thing with feathers, it is part of love, it is a bad supper, it is close to faith."
Series: The Swordsman, aka Smiling, Proud Wanderer by Jin Yong, 2013 TV version
Character/Pairing: Linghu Chong/Ren Yingying, prev Linghu Chong/Dongfang Bubai
Rating: PG
Notes: This is specific to the 2013 TV version where Dongfang Bubai was a woman in disguise, and the script signficantly altered parts of canon.
They had snuck up to Siguo Cliffs, mischief lightening Linghu Chong's heels and joy lifting Yingying's feet, along with him. The fact was that there was now little need of such sneaking around, of course: the newest chief whose territory they had intruded was far too busy rebuilding the Huashan Sect to bother with harmless individuals seeking the sights of Huashan and recalling the turmult of all those years past. But Linghu Chong still delighted in wandering the land of rivers and lakes under his anonymous guise, and she was happy to accompany him.
They would winter in warmer climes later, but for now the mountains were in full bloom, and he recalled that in far more innocent times he had spent long afternoons and evenings lazing around, practising his sword, or simply drinking the nights away with fellow disciples that were now gone.
And with his favourite Lingshan, before things had gone so wrong between them. He looked at his wife, who was now asleep against his shoulder, and for a moment felt the melancholy of the years weigh upon his back, and spared a wry smile for the youth he once was. No, even in those days when he had been ordered by his teacher to spend a year up here in isolation to reflect on his sins, he had not been wholly undisturbed in his devotion to Lingshan. Slow as he was to admit it, it was in these cliffs that Miss Dongfang had come to see him - when he had found that his friend was in reality a woman - and a connection had grew up between them.
He was not so naive then either, however much he wished at that time, to re-imagine a black-and-white world where the so-called demonic sect was wholly evil and had to be exterminated, any more than he could ignore the fact that Miss Dongfang was surely more than she seemed. She seemed to be too young for the depth and skill of her martial arts; she was undeniably beautiful; she acted, and spoke to him with a directness and frankness that spoke to his own forthright nature.
And she was- he stared up at the clear sky above. She had proven to be the most feared Dongfang Bubai, the leader of the powerful 'demonic' sect that his own sect and allies were determined to destroy. That was the truth. She was no innocent but had murdered hundreds in her climb to power. She was no kind-hearted maiden but a cruel monster. He should have accused her of deceiving him, of manipulating him, of being the ultimate villainess in his world. He should have known. He had known she was more than she seemed, and he had always disregarded those differences between them, seeing only the person that she was with him. She was deceptive, yet forthright in her own way, and she lingered in his consciousness far longer than he would have thought.
Only Yilin had perceived it, innocent little Yilin who had a crush on him yet only wished him happiness.
Only, what future could there ever be for them? It was difficult enough to be with Yingying, who had managed to keep out of the worst of power struggles in her sect, and in their world. How much more impossible it would be if he and that unknown Miss Dongfang had sought to be together? She had known it, of course: a Dongfang Bubai who had plotted her way to power and who was ruthless enough to kill for it - of course she possessed enough intelligence and rationality to know. He knew it too. He had released that spark between them before he could ever articulate it, before any hope could grow, and engaged instead Yinging's affections, returning it in turn, nurturing the love between them.
Now all that were left were memories. He hoped she was at peace.