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Summary:

Nie Huaisang was ten years old when she fell in love with a bird.

Notes:

Claimed Tags:

Bird Kink
Childhood Backstory
Gift Giving
Gold
Magic
Mental Link
Pets
Sibling Relationship
Wings

Work Text:

Nie Huaisang was ten years old when she fell in love with a bird.

“If you both cultivate seriously,” her Da-ge said as he carefully handed her the young golden eagle as a birthday gift, “then you will be partners your whole life long.”

Nie Huaisang looked into the bird’s piercing eyes, felt the power of her talons even through thick gloves, stroked down her ruffled dark gold feathers as they considered each other, and said, “I think we can manage that.”

 

Nie Huaisang spent all her free time tending to Xiaojian. She murmured her secrets into the eagle’s ears, carried the eagle wherever she went, and ignored the cousins teasing her that she should’ve called the bird Xiaodao instead—name the eagle her little sword, not her arrow—because she practiced flying Xiaojian more than the saber forms of the Qinghe Nie.

They meditated together, the bird on Nie Huaisang’s knee or shoulder or wrist. Her body grew strong, her mind attuned to the bird’s, and there were no secrets between them.

“You’ll need to find a husband some day,” the elders told her. “Talk to the scholars and the soldiers, not just your bird.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “The scholars are interesting,” she allowed, because they were. She liked the musicians too. “But Xiaojian is more important than any man.”

Da-ge laughed, hearing that, and asked if he was included in that.

“No,” Nie Huaisang told him as Xiaojian preened Da-ge’s long hair. “You’re equally important to me. How could I rank one of you above each other? I love you both, with all my heart.”

Da-ge smiled, and Xiaojian fluttered over to bonk her head against Nie Huaisang’s, and they were all satisfied with that response.

 

“Do you think you’ll be able to cultivate a human form?” Nie Huaisang asked Xiaojian one evening. The eagle clacked her beak and nuzzled her head against Nie Huaisang’s. She laughed and kissed the bird’s forehead. “I know, you’re trying.”

Nie Huaisang was perfectly aware of how different Xiaojian was from normal golden eagles. Other Qinghe Nie hunted with them, but those golden eagles resided in the mews, not in their bedrooms. Other golden eagles were only brought out to exercise them and let them hunt, not constantly. Other golden eagles would snap at their handlers, but Xiaojian had never done that. She had always been gentle with Nie Huaisang.

Perhaps most birds couldn’t love people, but Nie Huaisang was certain that Xiaojian loved her as much as she loved Xiaojian.

 

“You may not bring her into the lecture halls,” Lan Qiren told Nie Huaisang, arms crossed and face foreboding. “She is not a student here.”

Nie Huaisang scowled at Lan Qiren. Xiaojian ducked down and snapped her beak at him in response to Nie Huaisang’s irritation, which wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “Hush,” Nie Huaisang told her, stroking her back. “Lan-xiansheng means well. Roost at the door; your ears are sharp, and you will be able to hear.”

Xiaojian nibbled lightly at Nie Huaisang’s ear, then took off with a single great sweep of her wings.

Lan Qiren looked thoughtfully after her. “You will need to tell me how you bonded with her,” he said after a moment. “She is a spiritual animal, though eagles are not normally bred for such purposes.”

Nie Huaisang bowed. “I would love nothing more.”

 

“Scout with her,” Da-ge ordered. “I know you can see through her eyes.”

Nie Huaisang would rather Xiaojian not be threatened by the arrows of the Qishan Wen, but her desire to help rang loud in her head. “I don’t know how far she can fly and keep the bond.”

“Then we will learn together.” Da-ge sat beside Nie Huaisang as the golden eagle soared into the sky. “Don’t worry about your body here, meimei; I will keep you safe.”

Nie Huaisang leaned into her brother’s solid embrace, closed her eyes, and let herself join Xiaojian in flight.

She loved how the air felt around her, the thermals lifting her higher, the gusts of wind carrying her towards her goal. The humans below were easy to spot; they didn’t blend into the land like her prey. Their affiliations were obvious from the colors they wore, and as she flew over the rocky plains she found their camps with ease.

It was nearly dark by the time she returned to the Qinghe Nie and her favorite person, whose heart was so entwined with hers, and who would give her all the meat she desired.

Nie Huaisang opened her eyes as Xiaojian landed on her knee. “Best beloved,” she murmured, stroking the eagle’s head. “Let’s get you dinner, and then I’ll give our report.”

Da-ge said nothing, which was all the permission she needed.

 

The war ended.

Everything should have been good after that, except that then Da-ge died.

He was killed, more accurately, and Nie Huaisang hated that. Everyone said she was a perfect lady, that she knew so much poetry and music and could hold her own in any scholarly debate, but now she had to be a Sect Leader too and that was awful and Nie Huaisang wanted to do nothing at all but cry for her Da-ge and prepare her revenge.

Xiaojian stayed with her through all of that, bringing her food and screeching at anyone who dared disturb her in the depths of her despair.

“He was your brother too,” Nie Huaisang told her.

She nodded, human-like, and curled against Nie Huaisang’s chest, head pillowed against her breasts.

 

The day Nie Huaisang woke to a feather-haired woman in her room, she thought she was still dreaming for a long moment. There was no way for another person to enter her room without breaking her wards, so this must be a ghost or a hallucination. Or a yao, she supposed, but her arrays should guard against those as well.

Then the woman touched her with claw-tipped fingers, and Nie Huaisang felt her thoughts: the cold air above the mountains, the comfort of a warm nest, the thrill of hunting alongside her mate.

It was familiar, the constant companion of so much of her life, and Nie Huaisang immediately knew who this was—and what a gift she had been given. “Xiaojian,” Nie Huaisang whispered, stroking her eagle’s feathers, preening her just like she did with the golden eagle’s flighted form. She’d dreamt of this, but never dared hope—

Nie Huaisang kissed her eagle on lips thick and keratinous, and thought there was nothing better than the signs of her eagle’s true form mixed in with this human shape.