Cold Moon, Bright Star

By bloodredrosez aka ElvenDestiny

August 12, 2017

A/N: I'm actually kind of embarrassed to be writing Princess Agents / Chu Qiao Zhuan fanfiction but who am I to deny what very randomly inspires me? Anyway, here is even more UST between our poor, suffering hero and our darling heroine, with more of an exploration into what each are thinking. I almost wrote something more NC-17 rated, but their romance just wouldn't the same if it had been like that. Just one more thing, the language and style here may come off slightly stilted, I think because in my head I'm trying to imagine it as a scene in the drama, which uses archaic Chinese, but I'm writing it in English.

* O * O * O *

The fragrance of the steaming hot tea soothed her own nerves as Xing'er prepared it, every step as meticulously done as always even though it was in the middle of the night. No one else but Yuwen Yue would be diligent enough in his work to stay up so late, so by necessity, she had also become used to the night hours.

The courtyard was usually silent at this time of the night, a stark difference from the busy hustle of the day. The heavy darkness, only slightly warmed by candle and moonlight, lent an aura of intimacy that made her feel uneasy, no matter how familiar their routine had become. She doubted that she would ever not feel this way when she was alone with him in his private rooms.

Perhaps because she knew they played at this game, neither one conforming to their roles. She was supposed to be obedient and charming; she was the slave chosen by him for his personal use and amusement. He was supposed to be her master, treating her as nothing more than a disposable maid and bedmate, so far above her in status that she was beneath his notice unless he wanted something.

But instead she felt as though when she was in his presence, his entire attention was on her, always seeking to know, to understand, to read her mind. She kept her expression as neutral as she could although in turn, she struggled to guess at what he was thinking. He presented such an impassive face to her, but she seemed to get under his skin as no one else did. Of course, that was because she was neither obedient nor respectful, and least of all his plaything. Yet he was the one who had made her into more, who had recognized her sharp aptitude and encouraged her, a lowly slave maid, to hone herself into a weapon.

Perhaps a weapon that would one day kill him.

She knew both of them thought of that often. She could never forget the memory of seeing him ruthlessly run his sword through her brother in front of her. But though opportunities had come and gone, she had hesitated every time to avenge her brother. She knew Yuwen Yue watched her carefully but if she did not know her own heart, how could he know hers?

The room was dark when she opened the screen door, careful to do it so quietly that no normal person would have noticed. Of course, Yuwen Yue was no ordinary person, his senses sharpened by a lifetime of surviving attempted assassinations, and she had been chastised before for being too loud. How had he put it? Her entry was "uncouth" and unbecoming of a personal maid. Xing'er had gritted her teeth, given him her best submissive bow, and accepted the criticism. He had seemed a little disappointed at her mild response. Of course, it had made her only more determined to catch him unaware one night, if only for her petty satisfaction.

The only illumination in the room came from the moonlight and she paused at the entrance after the door silently closed behind her, both hands cradling the cup of tea. Was it possible that he had retired for the night after all? From where she was, she could see his desk was unoccupied, the candles blown out. A prettily decorated folding screen and a gauzy beaded curtain blocked her view of the rest of the room from where she stood.

The tea was about to burn her fingers so she set it down on a lacquered wooden table. He had not yet dismissed her for the night, but perhaps he had forgotten to do so. Still, should she go look to see if he was already sleeping and risk disturbing him? What if he thought he had already dismissed her and then mistook her presence in his room for some kind of…desire for attention?

That was the last thing she needed. Xing'er took a slow breath, thinking that it was better to risk punishment tomorrow morning for never bringing the tea than to end up in that situation. She already did not know exactly where she stood with him. She could play the dumb maid all she wanted, but they both knew better than to believe her act. Nor could she risk letting down her guard around him.

She was about to pick up the tea again to leave when she heard a soft sound. She stopped, tense, unsure if it was a sound of pain.

Worried that something was wrong and he was injured, but not wanting to give away her position immediately to the attackers, Xing'er cautiously peered around the folding screen. She barely stifled a gasp at the sight in front of her, half veiled by the curtain.

She had never seen the Master so disheveled before, raising all her alarms. He was lying facedown in bed, his head turned to the side so that she could see that his eyes were closed and his hair spread in messy strands across his shoulder and back. Even with his eyes closed, his features were a mask of concentration. He was wearing only a thin white robe, the bedcovers lying crumpled beneath him and to one side. One hand was gripping a fistful of the sheet beneath him.

She heard another soft moan, little more than a gasp. "Xing'er…"

She froze in place. Had he been poisoned, or was this just another one of his tests for her? He did not appear injured and surely he would have called for help if he had been attacked. But from the looks of it, he was vulnerable, perhaps fevered—she should be thinking of how to use this to her advantage, to achieve her revenge. Could it be a relapse of his illness? But the way he had said her name, as if he were dreaming…

Her thoughts came in a confused flood. Seeing him in such an undressed state made her flush, her cheeks warming even more as she realized he might not be ill at all. She drew back, her heart hammering suddenly as another explanation occurred to her.

He was a man, after all. Yuwen Yue had fooled all the servants and gossips into thinking he had taken her for his personal pleasure that first night—it wasn't until later that she realized what they must all have assumed from seeing the blood on his bedsheets—but in reality, he had not touched her. Well, except for the show he had put on for Jin Zhu, and those necessary moments when he was teaching her kung fu. She flushed harder, as she suddenly remembered his hands on her waist and thigh, effortlessly taking on her weight and spinning her around as if she were floating.

He probably had his own reasons for letting the entire household think she was his concubine. Xing'Er had overheard the older servants gossiping and knew that Yuwen Yue openly taking on a bedchamber maid was unprecedented, whatever other experiences he had with women. The rumors ranged from painting him as a virgin pining for the Wei princess to having him as the father of an illegitimate daughter. She had no doubt the truth was closer to the former than the latter, if only because she couldn't imagine someone so reserved to have carried on a casual dalliance with a woman, no matter how much the other maids giggled about his supposed virility.

He had implied that he would bed her. But he had not. He was honorable in his own way and she was too relieved to question it. The training he had put her through was brutal, but after that first night, he seemed to have set aside whatever possibility of calling her to his bed that there might have been. To the rest of the world, she was a favored maidservant because he had claimed her and was enjoying her. Only the two of them knew otherwise.

The truth was, he kept his distance from her, and over time she had attributed it to a lack of interest rather than out of some respect for her wishes. After all, he had implied before that if she won the contest to become his bedchamber maid, he would demand everything of her that the position suggested. She had even been mentally preparing for it that first night, and had almost taken off her clothing when he called her to bed. He could do whatever he wanted with her and he did. Just not in that way.

Little did the others know that her bruises were not because he was rough in bed, but from the perfection he relentlessly required of her in martial arts. She was not learning to please him as everyone thought, but rather, she was learning new ways to defend herself—even new ways to kill him.

He remained, as always, cold in demeanor. The sole times his expression ever varied seemed to be when she had irked him. Even then, it was at best a mild irritation. She suspected it could even be amusing to him to hold onto her when Prince Yan Xun and others had expressed an interest. It wasn't every day that the highborn fought over a mere slave.

But this… This… No, it couldn't be. She was half convinced that she was just hallucinating from exhaustion. The stress of protecting her sisters from that hateful Jin Zhu's daily torments was getting to her and she was imagining things.

Xing'er peered around the screen again and watched as his hips shifted hard against the bed, his lips still softly murmuring her name. She abruptly lost her breath. His movements were gentle, yet possessive. She could almost see the muscles of his back and broad shoulders through the fine white threads of his robe. She had felt his strength before, had seen his agility and grace on display when he was protecting her. She knew he had the body of a skilled warrior, not a soft, pampered noble heir. She could not seem to tear her eyes away from his form, the curtain and the distance between them doing little to lessen the effect of seeing him like this.

When thinking of sexual relations, she had only ever felt disgust and horror, her instinctive first thought always of leering old men and terrified, unwilling slave girls. But this—this could not be more different. And yet fear swept through her anyway, that she could lose control of her body in such a way…but not by force, willingly. She had never really desired anybody before, but now she felt on fire and she could not pretend it was entirely from embarrassment. How could one lose oneself like this? After all, even Yuwen Yue, master of discipline and self-control, the lord that others joked was as cold as ice, had to surrender to his passion.

His passion for her. He was calling out for her.

She swallowed hard, feeling hot all over, her pounding heart sounding so loud in her own ears that she expect him to open his eyes any moment and identify her as an intruder. It was unbearable, watching the mysterious, maddening Yuwen Yue in his most private moment. Was he dreaming of her? Or worse, was he awake and thinking of her?

Xing'er felt faint. She drew back behind the folding screen and reached out to steady herself on the stand, her hand brushing the forgotten cup of tea. Her fingertips dipped down into the hot liquid and she gasped as they burned with pain.

The sound had hardly escaped her lips when she realized her mistake and panic overwhelmed her. She picked up the cup of tea and the saucer with both hands, her whole body going cold and then hot with anticipated doom, and fled silently outside.

* O * O * O *

The slightest disturbance, a soft gasp, woke him from his half sleep, his senses instantly on alert. His mind was still muddled with thoughts of Xing'er, her soft, smooth skin, her star-bright eyes looking at in him that impossible mixture of defiance and docility. Every time she looked at him like that, it drove him absolutely crazy. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, or claim her in a kiss, or punish her for ever giving that look to another man… He didn't even know anymore. His body, too, was still ready for her, responding to urges he normally kept under the tightest control.

A quick scan showed that there was no one in the room. He looked critically at the tables, furniture, doors, and the numerous precious items that filled his room. No, nothing was out of place in his lavish surroundings. Or was that panel of the screen at an angle just slightly greater than before? In his current frustrated state, he couldn't tell. All he could assess was that there was no real immediate threat to his life. And Xing'er, was she safe? Where was she?

Yuwen Yue had already risen from bed, reaching for his sword, before realizing that he probably had dismissed her for the night at some point. No one was still awake at this hour. Of course she wasn't present; she was sleeping with her sisters. Safely in her own room. Safely away from him.

He cursed his own foolishness, his inability to resist temptation. From the moment he chose her from the competition—no, even before that—he knew she would be nothing but trouble. Yet he had still given her silver bells to wear, had personally placed them in her hair, making a big show of it. Sometimes he thought he was slowly being driven mad. By all rights, he could take her as he wished, as everyone thought he was already doing. He could even formalize it and make her his concubine. But that wasn't what he wanted.

It was stupid to keep Xing'er so close. He didn't need Grandfather to tell him that. Stupid for so many reasons, not in the least that although he couldn't shake his innate trust of her, she had every reason and motivation to one day betray him. Stupid because it made him irritable knowing the maids thought he was abusing her, when she fainted every night from exhaustion, covered in bruises. He was even irritated that nearly everyone in the Green Mountain Court knew, or thought they knew, how poorly he was treating her, and she had no one willing to risk his wrath to challenge him over it. No one to protect her from himself.

After all, what significance was the suffering of one slave girl?

He had even thought about setting her free. It would be an easy thing for him to do, to order emancipation papers for her and her sisters. She would owe him forever. It would mean more than merely saving her life. He snorted. Merely saving her life—this was the nonsense she had driven him to, with her ingratitude and reckless disregard for her own safety. Setting her free and letting her go would solve all problems: it would spare her from being used in Grandfather's schemes, bring domestic peace back to his court, make the question of her loyalty to him immaterial, and most of all, end this dangerous, foolish distraction. It was the easiest move to make.

It was also one he couldn't bring himself to make. He knew it was selfish, but he rationalized it. Xing'er had great potential. She could be useful. And so what if it was selfish to keep her? Had he ever asked or wanted anything for himself? He had spent his whole life thus far fulfilling his duty to his family. He had exceeded almost all expectations.

Yuwen Yue had been so lost in his thoughts that he had been ignoring what his other senses were telling him. This was even after just recently chastising Xing'er for relying too much on her sight. While the serene moonlight revealed nothing out of place, his bedchamber held the aroma of tea along with the lingering remnants of her scent mixed with his, as was expected. She spent almost as much time in these rooms as he did. But here, around this corner by the elaborate folding screen, the air smelled faintly of her scent over the overpowering one of tea. She had recently been here, but when?

He ran his fingers across the shiny, lacquered surface of the wooden stand. It was warmer in one spot where she had set the teacup down. She had come to offer him tea, probably expecting him to be staying up late again reading his bamboo scrolls. Little did she know that more and more often, he had found himself watching her instead of concentrating on his own tasks. Even this nightly tea ritual was little more than an excuse to see her once more, without the distractions of other guards and servants.

Yuwen Yue closed his eyes briefly and let loose a breath. She had left. But what had she heard or seen?

FIN

* O * O * O *

A/N: So, I'm not sure if I'll write other one shots (to fit throughout the show or to elaborate the ending, maybe) or come back to follow up on this, but I hope you enjoyed it. Please review and definitely let me know if you want more!