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Kaladin took Bridge Four to the Shattered Plains. It was a calculated attempt to build confidence and solidarity amongst the new recruits, but it also ensured he wouldn’t run into Adolin on the practice grounds, or anywhere, hopefully. Though he remained certain there was a future where he and the prince wouldn’t descend to some lighteyes nonsense like dueling over Shallan, he was equally sure they needed time to find the path to that future. If Kaladin saw the highprince today, it wouldn’t be good.

Bridge Four was a marvel. Men who had once cheered him as he discovered his powers were now glowing with Stormlight, encouraging new recruits and one another. Watching them grab hold of their own Stormlight today filled him with pride. His men - and women now - were going to be all right. With time and training, they would be prepared. He could protect them until then.

Elhokar’s arrival on the Plains came as a surprise, along with his proposal. Kaladin respected the king’s desire to rescue his family, but the timing was hard. 20 days to train up a team - too short, but enough. 20 more nights with Shallan to figure out what they'd gotten themselves into - plenty of time, right? Sneaking out to a deserted balcony every night was never going to be a long-term solution, and before he left on this mission they should know where they stood. Tonight, they would make a plan.

Kaladin caught a glimpse of Renarin by the cookfire, carefully shaping dough. He knew the young prince loved his brother fiercely. Would Kaladin be betraying his own soldier if they continued this affair? Storms, affair was a terrible word. It sounded like a word Ialai Sadeas would say.

His thoughts were interrupted by shouts, Voidbringers, and Rock’s family.

*****

Kaladin was already there when Shallan arrived on the balcony, seated on the ledge with legs dangling over the side, facing out into the night. On the floor of the balcony was a heap of infused gems of all kinds, giving off a steady, multichromatic glow. Shallan noted with pleasure how the colors would sometimes cancel each other, emeralds, sapphires and rubies combining to emit a pure white light in places.

He’d brought Stormlight to practice with, then.

She’d tried to avoid him, and Adolin, and Jasnah too for that matter, for most of the day, busying herself with Palona to go over the logistics for Sebarial’s plans to expand in Urithiru. The highprince’s mistress seemed suspicious at Shallan’s as-yet-undeclared enthusiasm for the project, but aside from a raised eyebrow she didn’t ask any questions and seemed appreciative of the help. It wasn't very interesting work — mostly sorting through ledgers and identifying large-scale tasks that would need special attention without access to parshman labor—but it had allowed her time to think without any distractions.

Here is what she concluded.

First, she was going to have to report their new found...ability. This was an entirely new property of a substance of which they already knew very little, and it would be irresponsible of her as a scholar not to say something. Even more irresponsible than kissing a man she wasn’t betrothed to in the middle of the night. Actually, maybe the same amount of irresponsible. Actually, maybe just shy of that.

Second, she was going to have to tell Adolin. She wasn’t sure what was between her and Kaladin, but it was different from her connection to Adolin, as different as the men themselves. With a nudge from Radiant, she attempted a list of pros and cons of one or the other, but the moment she tried to put a value on either relationship, it felt wrong, like writing with her safehand. It was going to be difficult to explain all of that to her betrothed, but it would be cruel to keep it a secret.

Storms, this was going to be hard.

Shallan took a deep breath and crossed the balcony, approaching Kaladin and placing a hand on his shoulder. He turned toward her with a thoughtful not-quite-smile.

“I forgot to bring your boots.”

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Kaladin arrived early, before Salas had even set. Rock and his family were settled in Bridge Four’s barracks, his wife and children assimilated quicker than the evening’s stew had been devoured. It wasn’t at all strange to see Rock as a family man. In a way, he’d become the adoptive father to the entire bridge crew, nourishing them in body and spirit. Rock knew how to listen, when to talk, who was ready to joke and who wasn’t, and of course, how to make soulcast rations taste like food. Surrounded by his family, the man simply seemed more...himself. Rock’s wife, fierce, surefooted and brave, seemed to know beyond all doubt that they would reunite. And they had reunited. She had made sure.

It made him think of his mother and father, who supported one another unwaveringly. After so much tragedy, they had held strong, even continued to grow their family. Was that love? That unquestioning confidence in someone?

He saw that strength, that impenetrable faith. But he didn’t recognize it. He didn’t feel it. The thought of Shallan filled him with longing, warmth, affection. But not assurances. When he was with her, he felt excited, more alive, but not more himself. Did it matter? If he couldn’t imagine building a home with Shallan, did it mean they couldn’t build anything?

In the darkness between the two moons, Kaladin considered this, wondering if he could put it into words. Then, as Nomon rose, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

*******

Shallan climbed up onto the ledge next to Kaladin. She cried out when she caught a glimpse of the drop below, and for a split second lost strength in her limbs, which caused Kaladin to reach out and steady her, helping her find a seat beside him. He started to put an arm around her shoulders, then seemed to think the better of it, instead placing a hand on the stone just behind her.

The view of Urithiru from here was breathtaking—Shallan was shocked she hadn’t once taken it in the night before. Torchlight flickered far below, diffused by passing clouds. Looming in the darkness, she could see Urithiru’s giant windblades, strata faintly glowing in the light of Nomon. It was almost as if they were in a completely different place from where they’d met the night before.

They sat side by side in silence for a long time, watching starspren meander in the sky.

*****

After what could have been hours, Shallan slowly tilted her head until it rested on Kaladin’s shoulder. He glanced down at the top of her head, the tips of her nose and eyelashes just visible under a tumble of red locks. The sight reminded him of her as they’d been in the chasms, frozen and desperate, clinging to each other.

Kaladin turned to kiss the top of her head, inhaling the perfume of her clean, soft hair. All doubts were immediately blown clean from his mind. For now, everything was right.

“This is a lot more pleasant now that we’re not in the middle of a highstorm,” he murmured.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Shallan countered. “I thought the lightning was sort of pretty.” She shifted closer to Kaladin, placing her hand on the ledge behind him and burying her face momentarily in his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, hand resting comfortably at her waist.

“It is nicer to be dry, though.”

Together they took a deep breath, letting it escape with a sigh. A million more minutes passed.

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“I want to try something,” Shallan finally said. She knew a wiser choice would be to start the hard conversations about coming clean to Adolin and - even more frightening - Jasnah, but this might be her last chance to be alone with Kaladin. They could have hard conversations later. They would have to.

She eased her head off Kaladin’s shoulder, freeing herself carefully from his warm embrace - storms, that was difficult - and onto the smooth stone balcony behind them. Pattern hummed in anticipation on her skirts as Kaladin, curious, hopped easily down behind her, like someone who could never really fall.

Shallan glanced around at the balcony, assessing its dimensions though she guessed she didn’t really have to. Reaching into the pile of stones on the ground, she pulled in enough Stormlight to bathe in.

Gingerly, she stepped over to where Kaladin waited. Clasping a hand on each arm, she asked, “Before I showed you your...home, do you remember what I said?”

*****

Kaladin met Shallan’s eyes, gazing up at him with such intensity. Of course he remembered. There was little he seemed able to forget.

Syl bobbed in the air between them, chanting “Kiss her! Kiss her, Kaladin!” But that didn’t seem quite right. He simply nodded in response to her question.

“Good.” Shallan seemed anxious, working her lower lip between her teeth. “Oh, storms, I--”

“You love me,” Kaladin blurted. With his arms in her grasp, his instinct to pull her close was interrupted, resulting in an awkward tug that jarred them both out of the moment. He felt so clumsy around her sometimes - maybe with practice...

Shallan let go of Kaladin, laughing softly. She reached up and draped her arms around his neck, looking up at him with a shy grin. “Yes,” she encouraged, voice almost a whisper.

“You love me,” he repeated. Was something supposed to happen?

Exasperated, Syl perched near Shallan’s shoulder, jabbing at the air towards her mouth. “KALADIN. KISS HER. NOW.”

*****

Shallan felt a surge of relief as Kaladin pressed his lips to hers, tugging at her Stormlight like a stray thread. It was as if she’d been holding her breath the entire day, waiting to breathe him in like air. Stormfather, she didn’t know anything could feel as unquestionably right as kissing this man. How could she ever deny herself this pleasure? She would worry about it later. Later, later. Shallan tried to focus on the images she’d prepared, attempting to make her Stormlight more accessible to Kaladin somehow. It wasn’t happening. Why did she think it even would?

“Shallan,” buzzed Pattern, “He does not need to help you. You can show him alone.”

“Right,” she responded aloud, pulling from Kaladin’s kiss in an excruciating moment. The warmth in her chest exploded. It felt like an axehound was trapped inside, practically slamming itself into her ribcage.

“I want to show you something.”

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Shallan stopped kissing Kaladin and shut her eyes. It seemed like she’d been expecting something to happen, as if the kiss were an Ideal that, once sworn, would cause a surge of light and power. Nothing like that had happened. He’d just spoken the truth: Shallan loved him, and he loved her. Whatever other realities they had to deal with, however they chose to proceed, he could be sure this was true. Kaladin still suspected that Shallan had anticipated some greater magic to happen, but the comfort he felt now, like a warmth pulsing in his chest, was enough.

The balcony around them began to transform into a grand banquet hall, Stormlight cascading off Shallan’s skin to form the image. It reminded him of Roshone’s keep. Long, empty tables ran the length of the room, grand tapestries adorning towering walls. The clear night sky was obscured from view by a vaulted ceiling and rafters. Even crafted from Stormlight, the illusion felt dark, damp, and oppressive.

“This,” exhaled Shallan, a cloud of Stormlight curling from her lips, “is my home.” She started to wander around the illusion, as if inspecting it for accuracy. “I thought... I don’t know why I thought this, but I thought somehow I might be able to give you this memory with my Stormlight, the way I used your memories last night. I guess...I’m sorry I was able to Lightweave your memory. You should have control over who can see things like that.”

Shallan’s hand passed through the illusion of a long table, creating a trail of mist behind it. She looked back at him apologetically, almost scared. Did she think he would be angry?

Kaladin felt uncomfortable here. This room was somehow more dreary than the Weeping itself. He itched to ask Shallan to make it go away, to see the sky again and hold her close. He needed to tell her he was leaving soon. He didn’t want to be in this place. As Kaladin began to cross the balcony to Shallan, movement in a doorway caught his eye.

*****
Even though Shallan had crafted the Lightweaving from her own memory, the sight of the hall hit her powerfully. It felt smaller than she remembered it, less ominous and more...pitiful. She could practically smell a feast cooking, and - though she was positive she’d left it out of the Lightweaving - hear the whimpers of a servant she couldn’t protect. What had she hoped to accomplish by bringing Kaladin into this memory? The plan was no longer clear to her. She only felt embarrassed.

She was about to apologize to Kaladin when a figure came in from the courtyard. Tet Wikim slunk into the room, shoulders hunched as if in a constant flinch, red hair falling in front of his eyes. He slumped into a chair, fiddling with a pocket knife as he stared blankly ahead.

The figure was crafted from Shallan’s own Stormlight and yet she still felt herself groping in her safepouch for a pen and paper, as if she could even remember a math problem to write down for him. But Wikim was a million miles away. She couldn’t make him feel better, or feel anything for that matter. Storms, this wasn’t even real! A familiar feeling of panic suddenly seized Shallan, closing her windpipe and forcing her to pull in some Stormlight to stay conscious.

*****

Kaladin rushed to Shallan from across the balcony as the illusion disappeared around them. She’d frozen at the sight of the young man who’d entered the illusion. A brother? Not the one he’d met on the battlefield all those years ago. Another one, maybe. But before he could reach her, Shallan instantly regained her composure, and then some. Her posture took on an almost regal bearing as she withdrew the illusion, smoothing her skirts and looking sharply at Kaladin upon his approach.

Shallan - though it hardly seemed like her - studied him with a detachment that sent a pang to his heart. “We need to talk,” she said.

*****

Radiant regretted having to be so stern with the bridgeman, but it was the only way they were going to make any progress. Shallan could barely get herself out of bed if she was too comfortable. The odds that she would initiate the conversation about what needed to be done were, to put it conservatively, low. Kaladin was...well, he was kind, strong, intense, gorgeous, storming magic. He’d somehow drawn out the most tender part of Shallan, something Radiant suspected could never be undone, even if they wanted. But this relationship was far from the only thing happening on Roshar. They both had duties they couldn’t ignore forever.

Kaladin surprised her by nodding. “We do,” he agreed, clenching his jaw. “I had a visit from Elhokar today.”

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Mishim crawled across the sky, an emerald crescent. Kaladin and Shallan lay on the stone balcony in silence, separated by the pile of gemstones he’d brought along, still faintly glowing. Kaladin watched the third moon’s progress with dread - come morning, the dream would be over and the work would start.

After a long discussion, they had agreed to come clean about what they’d learned about Stormlight - the ‘discovery’, they dubbed it. Shallan felt an academic responsibility to tell Jasnah, and Kaladin knew he owed a report to Dalinar. Stormlight was something they understood so little about, and it was also their greatest tactical advantage. They couldn’t keep this newfound ability a secret.

Unfortunately, explaining what they discovered would also mean explaining how they discovered it. While they hoped they wouldn’t be asked for details, they agreed to be honest, and to go together when they made their reports.

Then there was Adolin.

Shallan clearly adored the prince. It wasn’t just the betrothal - they had a good, growing relationship, and she cared for him a great deal. Kaladin had seen her swoon over Adolin dramatically from time to time, but he now understood that she loved more than just his charm or his looks. Despite her decision to arrange their midnight meeting, Shallan made plain that she wasn’t trying to get out of her relationship with Adolin, was in fact very happy.

Kaladin found he was fine with that. In fact, it calmed his concerns that Shallan was looking for the kind of love he saw in Rock and his parents, a love he was positive he couldn’t give. Whatever they had, it was something else. This gave him reassurance that there was a path to a future where no one’s heart got broken. Whether they could find that path was another story.

Though he couldn’t feel her, from the corner of his eye he saw the blue-white glow of Syl sitting on his shoulder, sharing the silence.

*****

The fingers of Shallan’s freehand were restless. Just a few more inches, and she could reach for Kaladin’s warm hand, slide her fingers between his as the moon drifted by. Over the long, difficult talk, they’d refrained from touching each other, first sitting on the cold stone a few feet apart, hugging their knees, then lying face up to the sky. The news that Kaladin was leaving for Kholinar in a few weeks’ time was disappointing, but it was plenty of time for them to try and sort things out. So they were trying to sort things out. Radiant had graciously stepped back once satisfied that Shallan could handle the discussion on her own.

Kaladin hadn’t seemed upset to learn that Shallan still had feelings for Adolin, still wanted to keep that relationship alive if she could. It was a pleasant surprise to see that he was genuinely concerned about Adolin’s wellbeing as they dealt with the riddens of this storm. They didn’t know what to tell her betrothed or how, but they knew they couldn’t keep him in the dark about what had happened these past two nights.

But how do you tell the man you’re planning to marry about another attraction so powerful it made you orchestrate a secret tryst? And how do you explain that that attraction isn’t instead of your love for him, but in addition to? What is he supposed to do with that? For the first time, the realization came over Shallan that Adolin might leave her over this. The prospect filled her with dread. If she lost Adolin, would any of this have been worth it?

And yet, it was glorious to know that her love for Kaladin was reciprocated, nearly as glorious as being in his arms or drinking Stormlight from his lips. How badly she wanted to spend the rest of this night doing just that, but she couldn’t. They hadn’t said as much, but there seemed to be a silent consensus that these meetings would have to end. Even if explaining everything to Adolin meant he left her, it couldn’t - and wouldn’t - be replaced by her relationship with Kaladin.

Storms, that relationship felt like Urithiru itself. She saw the awesome cluster of gems at its heart, felt it loom grand in the darkness, but couldn’t figure out how to make it work right. Shallan felt the warmth in her chest around Kaladin, palpable and alive, but didn’t know how it was supposed to power the fabrial. Passionate as she and Kaladin were to one another, they seemed to jam from time to time, as if snagged on some hook they couldn’t see. It was awkward, jarring, and it told her that something wasn’t quite right. Maybe with time a new path would emerge, but now it was all darkness.

Unable to resist any longer, Shallan extended her arm until her fingers brushed Kaladin’s. He didn’t take her hand, but the place where they touched made the warmth leap in her chest.

“Oh storms,” she exhaled. A tear rolled down her face, running past her neck to the stone.

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Kaladin felt the soft pressure of Shallan’s fingertips on the back of his hand. He wanted so badly to reach for her, pull her to him, which, lying down as they both were, could be dangerous. Better not. Tomorrow would be hard enough already. Shallan was intelligent - she would have the words to explain what they needed to say to Dalinar and Jasnah, hopefully Adolin too. Kaladin was stubborn - he would make them keep their appointments and stand unflinching under judgment. He’d been berated before, and worse. Whatever the response turned out to be, he could withstand it. It was only love, after all - why should they be so afraid to express it?

The thought frustrated him. The literal Desolations had arrived, and they had to tiptoe around like criminals because they had discovered they were in love? They had made a potentially crucial discovery about Stormlight, but they were timid to report it because it came from a kiss? Damnation, it was absurd.

Agitated, Kaladin jolted to a seat, turning to Shallan, who propped herself up on an elbow, a look of concern crossing her face. He sucked in the remaining Stormlight from the gemstones between them, leaving the balcony in darkness save for the glow of their two bodies.

Storms, she was beautiful. And she loved him. Kaladin realized with certainty that this could be taken from him somehow. But not tonight. Not yet.

*****

Kaladin sat bolt upright, glowing with the Stormlight he had just pulled from the gems on the ground. He glanced down at Shallan, looking bothered by something, then hopped to his feet. Shallan took the hand he offered and was pulled to standing. The glow of Mishim behind him gave Kaladin a faint green aura. He seemed different all of a sudden, as if he had switched to a new persona, his own angry Veil.

Somewhat roughly, he pulled Shallan into his embrace and Lashed them both into the sky.

“Kaladin? Kaladin, are you all right?” Shallan searched his eyes, which he kept grimly focused on some spot off in the distance, ignoring her with his gaze but holding her uncomfortably tight. They were shooting rapidly into the air, higher than he’d Lashed her the night before, and he wasn’t slowing down. Shallan clutched hard at the back of his uniform - yes, the whole time he’d been wearing his uniform, she didn’t even know if he had other clothes - with her nose buried in the hollow between his collarbones. She repeated his name over and over, speaking directly into the rough fabric, hoping she could calm him, bring him back from wherever he’d gone. She could feel his heart racing and tried slowing her own pulse, as if that would soothe him somehow. The chill of the air told her they had to be hundreds of feet up already.

Then, without warning, they slowed down.

*****

“Kaladin? Kaladin, what’s wrong?”

Syl kept pace with him as he carried Shallan upward. Kaladin knew he was running from time itself, retreating to the safety of the skies, but he didn’t know what else to do. He felt protective of the warmth he had discovered inside his own heart, whose twin beat in the body he held close. It couldn’t be taken from him now. But somehow it would be. The dread tasted acrid in his mouth.

“Kaladin, please slow down. Can you hear me? Kaladin!” Syl began to zip around him and Shallan frantically, waving her arms around. “Hey! What are you doing?! Can’t you see she’s freaking out?”

He suddenly became aware of the heat of Shallan’s breath on his collar, the rhythmic chant of her voice murmuring his name, over and over again.

He slowed their ascent. Once they came to a stop, Shallan looked up at him, eyes wide.

*****

Kaladin peered down into Shallan’s face, his expression softening into something of an apology.

“They’re going to force us apart, Shallan,” he said, by way of explanation. “They’re going to make you leave me. I...I’m not ready for that.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to her, but she knew he was right. They were in a new age - Dalinar was married to his own sister-in-law, the Vorin church undermined left and right by the realities of the Desolations, humans turned Radiant by Ideals sworn to spren - but despite all that, there was still custom, as immutable as stone. There would be pressure, lots of pressure, for Shallan to “do the right thing” and end her “fling with the bridgeman". She would be told it was a phase, that her feelings would pass. Their love would be trivialized before it was understood, with no regard for Kaladin’s feelings whatsoever. Kaladin would be sent away even sooner, kept out of the picture on more "missions" across Roshar. Storms, Ialai Sadeas would have a field day. Palona too, probably, she loved to--

“Palona!” Shallan blurted.

“What?” Kaladin asked, looking puzzled and a bit annoyed.

Palona. She was Sebarial’s mistress, had been for years, and neither of them gave a crem what anyone thought. They loved each other deeply and were a powerful team. People maybe didn’t approve of them or take them seriously, but Shallan saw from the inside that they were never to be underestimated. She could accept that fate. If Alethi society - Jasnah and Dalinar included - had trouble with this, that was not their problem. She and Kaladin could figure out how to keep loving.

“Nothing,” Shallan grinned in what she hoped was a mysterious way. She shrugged away the voice that nagged at her, "what about Adolin?" It was too hard. She needed to feel victorious now.

*****

Kaladin saw hope in Shallan’s eyes as she exclaimed the name of Sebarial’s mistress. What could that possibly mean?

Shallan became giddy all of a sudden, an irresistible smile playing across her lips. She acted like Palona was a secret weapon, something that would make all their problems go away. Though he guessed it was stupid of him, Kaladin allowed himself to be soothed by that smile. What else was there to lose?

“I’m going to kiss you,” Shallan declared with utter seriousness, “and I want you to take all my Stormlight, and I want to fly with you to the top of Urithiru and look out on the world. I love you, Kaladin Stormblessed, and I’m a storming Knight Radiant. Nobody can force me to do anything.”

“Technically,” Kaladin corrected, “it’s not flying. It’s just falling in a different direction.”

Shallan laughed, then she kissed him. The Stormlight rushed in like wind.

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Heya! If you have enjoyed this work in any of its sections, you can now read the whole thing in one place: Here's a link to that place. 

There’s some minor tweaks from the originally published chapters, but you’ve basically got the gist if you’ve read everything. Thanks for reading, commenting, and kudoing, and generally being a delightful fandom to be a part of!

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