Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shallan | Kaladin

“No…”

Shallan cursed and spun back to the place where Kaladin stood. Maybe he hadn’t left, maybe--

Only sky occupied the space. Sky and stone.

Shallan felt all her insides drop, as if she were the one who’d just tossed herself into oblivion. 

“He should be here, he...he shouldn’t…”

Suddenly lightheaded, Shallan staggered to the ledge, bracing both hands against the balcony’s cold stone.  It took a moment to make out the blue-white smear of Kaladin soaring across the hulking mass of Urithiru. How had he already fallen so far? 

“You shouldn’t have spoken for me!” Shallan scolded the air, braced against the ledge as wind chilled her tears. In the bright sunlight it was no longer possible to make out Kaladin’s glowing silhouette. “If you hadn’t—“

He would’ve found out about the Ghostblood thing , Veil reminded Shallan, whose lungs were full of Kaladin’s name.  If she could just get him to come back…

He’s wise to remember duty, Radiant chided as gently as she could manage, both to his loved ones and as a Radiant. 

Let him go, Shallan, Veil and Radiant urged at the same time, surprising all three of them. 

“Shallan?” Pattern prodded from her skirt. “You said it was a good job to tell you ‘no mating’. Was this incorrect?”

The question prompted a wave of sensations. Kaladin’s mouth. Kaladin’s smell, his arms around her…

Shallan’s stomach heaved as desire joined the jumble of emotions swirling inside her. She backed away from the ledge, crumpling to the ground. Never again? None of that ever again?

“Shallan?” Pattern prodded, hovering midair beside her. She was probably just imagining it, but the spren’s buzzy words sounded...concerned?

“It was correct, Pattern,” Shallan replied bitterly. “But I didn’t like it. I don’t like it.”

Get up now, Shallan, Radiant instructed, clearly trying to be sympathetic while rapidly losing the patience to do so. 

This shouldn’t be difficult, Radiant coached, you have a betrothal, you have a role, you have responsibilities. This...whatever you were doing with Kaladin... 

“It was real ,” Shallan spat, shoving Radiant’s admonishments aside. Storms, it was like having Jasnah around at all times. 

“It is real,” Shallan repeated defiantly before her own thoughts could interrupt. Could it be real and over? And what about Adolin? No, no. Not that now. Adolin was separate from the sadness she felt.

Suddenly exhausted, Shallan turned her back on the balcony and headed back to her room. The return trip was much longer, for a host of reasons.

******

“Kaladin, why did you DO that?!” Even though Syl’s voice was crystal clear in his ear, she was still shouting at him.

“It can’t keep going like this, Syl!” Kaladin shouted back in frustration. He would have liked to punch a chull square on the backside just then. “She’s already betrothed to someone, someone who loves her. I’m bound to Bridge Four, and they depend on me. There’s no way we can do this right. And did you see how she reacted? She just let me go, Syl. If she can let go, I have to, too.”

“No you don’t!” Syl countered. Storms, why was she being so stubborn? “Kaladin, I know what you have with her. You love each other. You’re punishing yourself for no reason!”

“No reason?” Kaladin shouted, aiming all his pent-up frustration at Syl.  He turned abruptly away from Urithiru and into the open air, stopping short hundreds of feet above the earth.  

“No reason? Syl, you’re an honorspren. I shouldn’t have to explain to you that helping someone break an oath to a loved one is bad.”

“And I shouldn’t have to explain to you that what you’re talking about is less than crumb of a shred of an oath!” Syl balled her tiny fists, hovering before Kaladin’s nose with a look that was clearly meant to be a scowl. 

“That betrothal? The causal what’s-it that someone wrote on paper or something, saying one day Shallan and Adolin will this or that or whatever? Kaladin, those things are meaningless to us! We know humans enough to understand that you trample on those promises all the time. And anyway, Adolin creeps me out and I don’t trust him.”

At that, Kaladin suddenly sensed the weight of the spheres in his breast pocket, sliced neatly in half. He stopped his hand halfway towards reaching for them. 

“I’ve been there for all of your whole thing with Shallan, remember?” Syl continued, not noticing. “The night where you two just sat there with your heads together? That was an oath. The way you protected one another in the chasms? That was an oath. That stupid pair of boots you’ve been trading back and forth since the say you met? That is an oath. Well, it was just boots at first, but now it’s as much of a bond as a wedding band, as far as I’m concerned.” 

Syl was darting back and forth across his vision in agitation. As she paced before him, Kaladin felt his chest soften with the memory of each of the moments he and Shallan had shared. 

“Shallan exchanged those things with you, with her own will and her own heart,” Syl lectured, “so I don’t want to hear anymore chull dung about pieces of paper stopping you from loving each other, because— What is so funny?”

Laughter escaped from Kaladin, real laughter.  

“Syl, where did you learn ‘chull dung’?” He asked. It shouldn’t have been this funny, but he was laughing himself to tears—well, different tears. 

“Oh, some friends of yours,” she retorted, suspicious of his shift in mood.

“I like it.” Kaladin resumed his journey back to Bridge Four.

“Hey! Go back to her, Kaladin!” Syl prodded, swirling around him in a way that betrayed her desire to physically drag him back to the balcony. “You’re allowed to have more than just pain!”

As Kaladin raced through the air, wind caught the cuffs of his uniform and tugged at his hair, windspren streaming past.  It was a sacred level of solitude, more precious to him than a good many things. 

“I know that, Syl,” Kaladin replied calmly. He longed to be with Shallan, but it would never work the way things were now.

“But I have the wind, too.”

Chapter Text

Kaladin | Adolin

“If you just took it in around - exactly, can you hold that there for me?”

Adolin’s voice was not supposed to be coming from the Bridge Four barracks. Kaladin briefly considered walking back out of the room before deciding that this would be some form of defeat on his part. This was his house, after all. Well, technically his house was part of Adolin’s father’s holdings, but still . 

"Damnation,” Kaladin grumbled out loud, turning the corner to see Teft standing on the barracks’ one round table, looking a little self-conscious. Adolin and Drehy stood on either side of him, pinching in his uniform at the waist. Adolin had his back to Kaladin, but Drehy gave a bashful smile upon seeing him enter. Kaladin shook his head at Drehy’s attempt at a greeting, and other man nodded quietly. 

“Can you move your arms around?” Adolin asked, looking up at Teft. “Is that comfortable? OK, good, that’s good. One second.” 

Adolin fished a piece of chalk from his pocket and marked where his fingers held the fabric, then passed it to Drehy so he could do the same. 

“It’s a shame we didn’t have one closer to your size, but we can make this work.” Adolin held out his hand for the jacket as Teft shrugged it off, finally noticing Kaladin standing there.

“Captain!” The man looked mortified, rushing to come down from the table. He was looking much better than he had that morning, but the fatigue still came off him like Stormlight.

“Oh Bridgeboy, good! I’m glad you’re here,” Adolin said, carefully folding the jacket and draping it over one arm. 

“I live here,” Kaladin deadpanned. “Why are you here?”

“Elhokar wants to see us about the Kholinar mission,” Adolin explained. “While I was waiting for you I happened to notice that Teft’s new coat is too big, so we had a fitting to pass the time. Your next shift is tomorrow morning, right?” Adolin turned to Teft, who stood at attention nearby.

“Yes, sir,” Teft said.

“I’ll have it back to you by this evening, then,” Adolin smiled that famous smile, which was infuriating, but also other things that Kaladin wasn’t expecting to feel. The weight of the split spheres in the pocket over his heart became suddenly more pronounced. 

“Shouldn’t keep the king waiting, captain ,” Adolin overenunciated the official term, as if he deserved congratulations for not calling Kaladin ‘bridgeboy’. 

“Are you ready now, or…?” A split second of...something passed across Adolin’s brow. Storms, why was he so hard to read?

“I really don’t like him, Kaladin,” Syl grumbled in his ear.

“Hold on,” Kaladin held a hand up, walking quickly to his room.  “I’ll be ready in a second.” 

Back in his room, Kaladin scooped all of the split spheres out of his pocket, dropping them onto the table beside his bed. He hadn’t looked at any since pocketing them the night before, and it was remarkable how perfectly each one was sliced in half. Though he wasn’t really sure why, Kaladin took one piece back and placed it in a trouser pocket. 

“Kaladin, the last time you took a walk with this guy he was really creepy and then he punched you, ” Syl reminded him. 

“Next time I’ll punch him first, Syl, I promise.” 

Kaladin tugged his jacket straight before going to meet the Kholin prince. 

******

Adolin wasn’t expecting to feel any particular way about seeing Kaladin again, but it turned out he felt a lot of ways.

Thankfully, Teft’s coat hanging off his forearm gave him both something to discuss and something to do with his hands while they walked to Elhokar’s chambers. 

“I heard Teft’s been having some trouble--” 

“I appreciate your concern,” Kaladin interrupted, “but I would rather not discuss that with you.”

So much for that topic of conversation. Kaladin was tense, as tense as he’d been on their tour of Little Herdaz, which Adolin supposed made sense, after everything that had happened.

“I owe you an apology, bridgeb-- Kaladin,” Adolin exhaled. His pulse fluttered nervously. Why?

“I’m sorry for punching you. Actually -- I’m sorry about how all of it went down. It wasn’t fair to put you through all that.”

Kaladin didn't respond. They walked in silence, turning a corner that led away from the main walkways. 

“I saw you and Shallan kissing last night,” Kaladin said quietly, speeding up Adolin’s heart rate further. 

“Oh?” Adolin asked casually, picking at a loose thread on the coat. He’d have to trim that. He looked quickly behind them, ensuring no one could hear. 

“Yeah.” Kaladin replied. “After you...left, I went down to pick up all the spheres.” Kaladin reached into his pocket, pulling out a small hemisphere with a fleck of blue in its center. He passed it to Adolin, who tried not to notice or care when their fingers touched. Storms, why did he both notice and care?

“It really is impressive,” Kaladin said as Adolin examined his own handiwork. “Colossal waste of resources and time, but it looks nice. Kid of like your wardrobe, brightlord.”

Adolin shot a glance at Kaladin, who was trying not to look pleased with himself. 

“I thought you were going to say kind of like me , so that’s not so bad,” Adolin held the hemisphere aloft between his fingers, hoping not to initiate more physical contact with the return of the item. Blessedly, Kaladin took the hint and positioned an open palm to catch the trinket as he dropped it. 

“Anyway,” Kaladin continued, nudging the fragment into his hip pocket, “when I came out of the passageway in Little Herdaz, you and Shallan happened to be up ahead...you know.” Kaladin shrugged meaningfully. 

“Oh,” Adolin replied, recalling how he’d looked for Kaladin just before that moment. 

A tentative silence rejoined them for a few steps.

“I saw Shallan today,” Kaladin volunteered, out of nowhere. “We...it...it’s over.”

Adolin looked to Kaladin in surprise, but the other man’s gaze stayed ahead, determined.  

“When I saw you kissing last night, it looked right , in a way that she and I are not. I know that sounds creepy, but…” Kaladin waved dismissively at the rest of that excuse.  “And...I realized it’s--Shallan and me-- it’s been taking too much of my attention from my duties. I can’t have that, and I should’ve known it the whole time, not to mention you two are already…” Kaladin gestured towards Adolin.

“So.”

Kaladin stopped short, turning to Adolin almost as a challenge. His dark eyes glared defiantly under that heavy brow, and Adolin could see his fists clenching from the corner of his eye. 

“The reason I’m telling you all this is if we’re going on this mission together, there has to be complete trust between us. And right now we both have good reasons not to trust each other, which could get one or both of us killed. So if there’s anything you need to say to me, brightlord, you’d better do it before we leave.”

This corridor was too quiet, and Kaladin was too close. It gave Adolin the feeling that Shallan’s spren would leap out any second to scold them against mating. 

Which was how Adolin Kholin finally accepted that he had a crush on Kaladin Stormblessed. 

But of course, it wasn’t a great time to bring that up. 

“I’ll keep you posted, Bridgeboy,” Adolin smiled, feeling suddenly very warm. “I promise. Now, as we both know, my cousin doesn’t like to be kept waiting." 

Adolin swept out an arm, gesturing in the correct direction. 

Shall we?”

Chapter Text

Kaladin

Kaladin found Renarin at the back of the group as Bridge Four headed to the Oathgate platform on the Shattered Plains. Rock insisted on carrying his cookpot along to make dinner, so after a bowl of stew and a ridiculous performance from Lopen and Huio - some story about a grandmother who defeated a Voidbringer with nothing but a broom and one slipper - the group trudged towards home full of food and in good spirits.

Renarin ignored Kaladin on approach, only addressing Kaladin once he’d been called by name. 

Storms, this was hard. Kaladin had barely rehearsed what he was going to say to Renarin, but the younger Kholin kept staring at him all day, so it was obvious he knew or believed something. Better to clear things up now. 

Renarin looked scared, as if expecting retribution of some kind. He wouldn’t meet Kaladin’s eyes. 

“I ran into your brother a few days ago,” Kaladin started casually, “and--”

“He shouldn’t have done that,” Renarin spluttered. “He didn’t say exactly what happened but whatever it was, I’m sorry. Captain.”

The poor man seemed on the verge of tears. This was not how Kaladin was expecting this to go.

“What are you talking about?” Kaladin asked as soothingly as he could. “Shouldn’t have done what?”

“Punched you in the face!” Renarin whispered emphatically. “He said you were sparring, but Adolin’s a terrible liar, so, I don’t know what happened but...he shouldn’t have done that,” he repeated.

Renarin thought Adolin was in the wrong? How had Adolin managed to reveal that he’d punched him, but no other part of the story? Storms, was Adolin trying to protect him and Shallan?  It seemed like a very un-lighteyes thing to do.  But it was also, Kaladin realized, a very Adolin thing to do. 

“You’re acting like you’re the one that did it,” Kaladin tried a joke, which neither of them were really suited for, so nobody laughed, even politely.

“I’m fine, Renarin,” Kaladin reassured him, “you know what Stormlight can do, I healed up right away.”

“No you didn’t,” Syl argued in his ear. “You wore that black eye and broken nose for like two whole hours.”

“The reason I wanted to talk to you was the thing that made your brother want to punch me,” Kaladin explained, looking ahead to the rest of the group.

Half of them were on the Oathgate platform, waiting for Kaladin and Syl to activate it. Sigzil was already scribbling away with a spanreed to make sure Malata was ready to go on the other side.

“Let’s talk more after we get back,” Kaladin suggested, stepping onto the platform. With a nod from Sigzil, he summoned Syl as a blade and brought them home in an instant.

Chapter Text

Shallan | Kaladin

Shallan read the note again:

You are to accompany the captain to Thaylen City at the head of the next highstorm. Make arrangements with him to this effect. 

Shallan’s heart leapt at the excuse to see Kaladin once more. Could this possibly be real? He couldn’t object to time together on a work assignment, right? 

The note was signed by Jasnah and written in her unmistakable hand, but Shallan still asked Pattern to compare it against other samples, just in case. 

“The scripts match,” Pattern confirmed. “This assignment is real, Shallan, unless she plays a trick on you.”

“Who, Jasnah?” Shallan laughed out loud. “I don’t think she knows how.”

So why, then? Punishment? No, that didn’t make any sense either. 

Think like Jasnah, Radiant prompted, startling Shallan a bit, as she hadn’t summoned Radiant in a while.  There wasn’t really a need to -- she hadn’t been alone with Adolin since their bender in Little Herdaz. There had been meetings, of course, always meetings, and Adolin remained perfectly warm and cordial at every single one, never faltering in his performance as a devoted betrothed brightlord. 

But he always had a reasonable excuse not to walk her home when they were together, usually to do with planning the mission to Kholinar. In the past week, there were no visits, no lessons, not a single storming kiss (which was infuriating). Palona noticed of course, offering the weak comforts of “these things take time,” and “you have your own life too, Shallan, don’t wait around for him.” But it was still frustrating, for multiple reasons. 

Kaladin was true to his word too, never acknowledging her presence when they were together or coming by the balcony after hours. Not that she knew of, anyway - she had begun spending the evenings at the Tipsy Cousin.  Shallan was becoming something of an attraction there, with patrons asking her to sketch them like she had Jorr and Inzo. Apparently Laia was very impressed with the work, and was savvy enough to quietly advertise Shallan’s skill. It gave Shallan a way to pass the time besides drinking and staring at Laia (not that either of those were bad), and it taught Shallan that she could relate to strangers as herself, rather than a darkeyed avatar. 

But not all the time. For her part, Veil spent the week doing whatever she felt like - she was getting quite the taste for Questions, Peeks and Inferences, and as a result Shallan always had something to spend when she went to the bar. 

But with each passing day, the storming Kholinar mission loomed larger, promising to take both Adolin and Kaladin away for good. 

Not only that, but Shallan had recently realized that Adolin was at all these planning meetings with Kaladin . The idea that they were with each other while she was with neither of them struck Shallan as a deep injustice. Every time Shallan considered that the two of them might be talking about her, to each other, it felt like ice in her veins. 

But what could she do about it? Tag along with them to Kholinar?

Now that you mention it, Veil chimed in...

******

Kaladin entered the Bridge 4 barracks to the sounds of men groaning and tiles clicking.

“Thank you all very--” came a woman’s voice, not Lyn’s, as Kaladin rounded the corner to reveal Drehy, Lopen and Eth sitting with a darkeyed woman in a jacket and pants. 

“Oh finally, you’re here,” the woman scrambled to her feet as she pocketed her winnings, snatching a large hat from the ground. 

“I live here,” Kaladin replied acidly, for the second time in a week. “Is our common room a public tavern now, or…?” 

Kaladin looked sarcastically around the room. It wasn’t a good look for him, and he knew that, but what in Damnation was this woman doing here? 

“My mistress needs to speak to you, something about Thaylen City.” 

The woman struck a pose, arms crossed with her freehand impatiently tapping the opposite elbow.

“So can you go...do that? I don’t know, I’m not a messenger usually. She said you would know where to meet.”

At this, the not-usually-a-messenger shot a discomfiting look at Kaladin. There was something extremely familiar about her, something he couldn’t exactly place, but it felt like this person knew something about him. Kaladin didn’t like it. 

“You’re not in Bridge 4,” Kaladin observed. “And yet you’re sitting around playing Questions in our barracks.”

Eth started to say something in response to this, but Drehy gave him a look as they gathered the tiles into a pouch. 

“Just passing the time, captain,” the woman retorted with a sullen shrug. Who was she? 

“So can I tell my mistress you’ll come or what?” 

“And your mistress is…” Kaladin knew the answer - he'd been there when Dalinar gave the instructions to him and Jasnah for the trip to Thaylen City. But he still needed to hear her say it. 

“Brightness Davar.”

Kaladin’s chest tightened. He thought he had processed all the implications of taking Shallan with him on the next highstorm, convinced himself he was ready to approach it professionally after a little time apart. But now, the very thought of being with Shallan submerged all sense of professionalism below the surge of longing that welled to his throat.

“Oh yeah, I guess I should have said that part first,” the not-usually-a-messenger muttered as she jammed the silly-looking hat on her head. She hadn’t met Kaladin’s eyes again. 

Kaladin looked around self-consciously, understanding that he always had an audience in barracks. If he gave away his feelings now, chances were good that someone would catch it. 

Oh, right. 

He could just be rude.

“Storming lighteyes,” Kaladin grumbled, “think they can just summon—“ 

“You know, I was waiting here for a pretty long time, captain, ” the woman interrupted, aiming the retort at her shoes. The broad brim of the hat covered all of her face but the tip of her nose.

“Kaladin, do we... know her?” Syl whispered. Storms, there was something so familiar about this woman.

“She’s not wrong, gancho,” Lopen called over his shoulder. “We were playing long enough that I won a whole ruby and lost two. Me .”

“Aw, I’ve won more off you in less time, Lopen,” Eth teased. 

“But you lost more from her today, gancho,” Lopen observed, eliciting a laugh from the room. 

Amid the chatter that followed, the woman smiled to herself.

“Took you long enough,” she joked to no one in particular. 

Kaladin’s face grew hot with a flash of recognition. He’d seen this woman. For a split second midair in the dark on the balcony, when Shallan had... changed. 

He’d kissed this person.

Shallan. 

But it didn’t seem like her at all.

Storms, why was everyone watching them? How dare she put him in this position, and in front of his own men? And why was his heart racing around like an axehound whose master had finally come home? Kaladin desperately needed this interaction to be over.

“Fine!” Kaladin groaned, louder than he meant to. He glared at her, resulting in an infuriating smile. “Tell her I’ll come.” 

Not to the balcony, not to the balcony, you can’t trust yourself there, not to the balcony, the thought hummed in his brain. 

Where else though? Storms, he missed her so much. But she was right there , wasn’t she? But it didn’t feel like Shallan was there at all. 

“But,” Kaladin forced himself to add, “tell her to meet me in the map room.” 

“Why?” Shallan-but-not-Shallan looked up at him with the familiar irritation of Shallan when she wasn’t getting her way. 

“It’ll be more practical,” he explained, as coolly as he could. Storms, why was it always a game? Everything to do with Shallan meant pretending. 

“For planning purposes, she’ll understand,” Kaladin spoke as much like a condescending lighteyes as he could muster. “I’ll meet her there in an hour.” 

The woman straightened up, and the glare that came from under the brim of that hat was not at all Shallan-like.

“It was nice to see you, captain.” The smirk didn’t quite reach her eyes as she walked out.

An expectant silence filled the room as Shallan-but-not-Shallan turned the corner.

“Next time make her leave a note instead of betting away all your spheres,” Kaladin scolded the silence. “OK?”

Grumbled assents emerged from pockets of the room as he went to his quarters.

Chapter Text

Kaladin | Shallan

“We know her, right?” Syl said again, hovering beside Kaladin as he shrugged off his jacket and shoes.

“It was Shallan!” Kaladin muttered through his teeth, changing into clean shirt, socks and undergarments before pulling back on the same jacket and pants. “She was doing that...thing, where she changes her face. I can’t believe she would do that, walk right in here like that!” 

“Are you sure that was her?” Syl zipped around Kaladin’s head a few times, stirring up his hair before letting it fall around his shoulders. She seemed to find this practice an important component of Kaladin’s grooming, for some reason.

“That first night, right before I, before we... kissed, ” Kaladin whispered. “She looked like that, just for a second.” 

“Huh,” Syl mused as Kaladin carefully laced his boots. “It really didn’t seem like her at all.”

She disappeared under the bed, where he had stowed a different pair of boots that did not belong to him.

“So, are you finally gonna give these back?”

******

The map room was dark and boring, filled with the ghosts of endless meetings and strategy sessions. The added fact that she had to meet Kaladin here instead of the balcony made every mote in the air that much more oppressive to Shallan, as if Urithiru’s interior were a personal affront. 

Shallan sat impatiently on the table, her bottom squarely on the Steamwater Ocean north of Herdaz. She gazed with blurry focus in the direction of the door, turning Elhokar’s official order between her fingers in her safehand sleeve. 

It was a successful day so far - she was now officially on the Kholinar mission, had a legitimate excuse to see Kaladin, won an embarrassing amount of money off Bridge Four, and Veil had even gotten to talk with Kaladin for a minute (which she would never have admitted she’d been hoping for). Shallan was beginning to notice that Veil really liked Kaladin, and had nearly talked herself into letting her alter ego conduct this entire encounter. 

Nearly. 

Instead it was Shallan who sat, both anxious and bored, intentionally ignoring the part of Roshar she was supposed to be reviewing. And it was also Shallan whose heart took off at a sprint when Kaladin came through the door. 

Chapter Text

Adolin

Adolin cursed, wiping away the chouta sauce where it glopped onto the map of Kholinar. It gave him an odd, itchy feeling, looking at his own hometown with a military eye. So many things, so many places and people he loved were still in there, along with -- well, what? Nobody knew. 

He lay on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, muscles complaining from a long morning on the practice grounds. Stonestance was coming to Adolin more and more easily as he turned his full attention to it, and he had turned his full attention to it. While it would never have been said that Adolin wasn’t skilled in this or any other form, he was finding a new appreciation for the way his natural strengths lent themselves to the stance. Where Windstance allowed for constant movement and displays of skill, Stonestance forced him to listen and watch, gathering the energy he was generally so ready to expend until just the right moment. The practice made Adolin feel like he was meeting a new part of himself. An older, steadier part of himself. He liked it.

Adolin bit off more chouta and turned his attention back to the map. Riding the highstorm, they would be coming at the city from the south, though Kaladin wasn’t confident in how precise a location they could pinpoint for a destination. It was still hard to believe that they would be moving so quickly, and so high. 

“Adolin?” Renarin’s quiet voice came from the doorway. 

“Hey, come on in,” Adolin called, abandoning the idea to jump up and greet his brother once his quads had their say in the matter. 

Renarin stepped into the room, assessing the possible places he might come to rest, eventually opting to sit cross-legged on the floor beside Adolin. He peered at the map, but without the frowny squint Adolin was used to from when his brother still wore glasses. It made him seem less...Renarin-like. 

“I’m a little jealous you get to see home,” he murmured, waving away the chouta when Adolin offered a bite. 

“I know it won’t be anything like we knew it,” Renarin continued hastily, as if expecting to be corrected, “but I still wish I could see it again.”

“We’ll get back there someday,” Adolin promised, with a certainty that surprised even himself.

Renarin didn’t respond to that. 

“Thanks for fixing Teft’s coat,” he said instead, smoothing down a corner of the map that was curling inward. 

“Yeah, of course,” Adolin responded, rolling on his side to look up at his brother. “It was way too big on him. That’s not just an aesthetic thing, it’s a safety—“

“I know that, Adolin,” Renarin interrupted. Storms, was that an eye roll? 

“But you could’ve just had someone else fix it. You didn’t have to do it yourself.”

Turns out I’m desperate to impress your boss, Adolin thought to himself. 

“I was happy to do it,” he said instead. “And—I never apologized for barging in drunk the other night. I’m really sorry about that.”

The chouta was starting to feel ridiculous in his hand. 

“It’s OK,” Renarin muttered. “Kaladin told me why you did it.”

He did?

“He did?” Adolin asked, mildly suspicious. It wasn’t likely that bridgeboy would have lied, but Adolin knew well enough that there were plenty of ways to carve up the truth. 

“Yeah,” Renarin nodded. “Him and Shallan.  I didn’t really want to know more than that.”

Adolin winced as he sat upright, dropping the chouta on the seat of a chair and licking the sauce off his fingers. 

“I can see why you would have done it,” Renarin said kindly, and it hurt. 

Was that what Renarin thought of him? That, within the context, his behavior on the balcony was in character?

Is that what everyone thought?

“Kaladin said he wasn’t angry about it,” Renarin reassured him. “And he said that it’s over with Shallan already too, so.”

Renarin picked up the map with both hands, holding it out to examine. 

“You’re going somewhere dangerous,” he said at the map. “More dangerous than we really understand, I think. Will you keep each other safe?”

“I will, Ren,” Adolin promised. “And--I don’t know if...it doesn’t matter, but I’ve apologized to Kaladin since then. That isn’t who I want to be.” 

I want to be his boyfriend, he thought instead, a thought that came up more and more often. Given everything that had happened, the hypocrisy of the feeling was astounding, but it was also completely how Adolin felt. It helped him sympathize with Shallan a little, but it also made him panic whenever he was with her. Too many secrets. Too many. 

“Do you think our rooms are still the same?” Renarin wondered out loud, not noticing or not minding Adolin’s reverie. 

“What?” Adolin started. “Oh, yeah, I don’t know. Anything in there you’d want me to bring back?”

At this, Renarin laughed, shaking his head with such unexpected sadness that tears suddenly stung Adolin’s eyes. He stood abruptly, and Adolin forced himself to do the same. 

“Thanks, again. For fixing the coat.” Renarin said, turning to go.

“Don’t mention it,” Adolin replied, walking Renarin to the door. It was over a week before they would leave for Kholinar, but the eventuality of the mission felt suddenly oppressive.

Adolin knew better, so he didn’t trap his brother in the hug he very desperately wanted to give. Leaning against the door frame, he called, “I’ll see you around."

Chapter Text

Kaladin | Shallan

Despite his best efforts, Kaladin was not prepared to be alone with Shallan again. Seeing her there, legs dangling off the table, piercing blue eyes lighting up at the sight of him, he was seized by the desire to do a lot of things that he had agreed with himself never to do again. 

“Hi,” Shallan said, failing to hide her excitement. Storms, that smile. 

The weight of a satchel at Kaladin’s shoulder saved him from his impulses, and in one motion he lobbed it onto the table beside Shallan. 

“Kaladin, are you just gonna stand by the door all day?” Syl demanded. “It’s like you’re scared of her or something.”

“I’ve been meaning to give these back,” Kaladin explained as Shallan pulled the boots from the satchel. “I hope it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience.”

“Oh please,” Shallan laughed, examining each shoe as if confirming that they were still in the same condition. Kaladin found himself offended by this for some reason.

“How long do you think someone can be betrothed to Adolin Kholin without acquiring more footwear? Not long at all, I promise.”

Storms, why bring up Adolin now? Was that an indication she had moved on? Wasn’t that good? Why did it make him want to break something?

Shallan scooted back onto the table, crossing her legs in front of her.

“Are you going to stay by the door the whole time?” she asked, cocking her head in a weirdly Syl-like way. “I feel like you’re about to run from the room at any second. Besides, Thaylen City is all the way over here—”

Shallan twisted at the waist, gesturing with her safehand to where Thaylenah was depicted behind her on the table. Storms, he missed holding her.

“So you definitely can’t see it from where you’re standing right now, because I’m blocking it.” 

She turned back to Kaladin with mock defiance.  

“That’s just science.”

Silence fell, and the anticipation that rose to fill it was physically painful. 

Then Kaladin remembered he was annoyed with her.

******

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t infiltrate my barracks again,” Kaladin crossed his arms, taking the long way around the table. “You took money off my men--”

“It wasn’t me!” Shallan spluttered. It wasn’t her. “I mean - it--”

“I remember that disguise, Shallan! I saw you do it before.” Storms, it was not remotely fair that Kaladin looked so gorgeous when he was angry. In a crowded field, anger was definitely the most attractive emotion on him.

Wait. 

Panic rose in Shallan.

“You saw me do what before?” Damnation.

“What do you mean, what?” Kaladin shot back. “The disguise you wore into barracks today! Well, the face, you did it before...” he gestured weakly to the side, somehow effectively communicating on the balcony. Bringing up that time seemed to dissolve Kaladin’s irritation, and he stopped awkwardly next to the Southern Depths, a name which Shallan suddenly found to be mildly inappropriate. 

Shallan glared internally at Veil. Veil had been sure he wouldn’t recognize her, it was so dark and so brief when she’d appeared on the balcony. There’s no way he’ll remember, huh? Shallan thought at Veil, which made her feel very mentally sound. 

“It’s not... me ,” Shallan exhaled, actively struggling against the impulses of her own southern depths. “I don’t know how to explain this exactly, but it’s not a disguise like you usually think of. She’s...her name is Veil.  And she really wants to meet you properly.  Do you mind?”

Chapter Text

Kaladin | Veil

“OK,” Kaladin replied hesitantly, “sure, I can meet ‘Veil’.” 

“Kaladin, what is she talking about,” Syl whispered. “And why haven’t you kissed her yet?”

The sound of his invisible spren’s voice in his ear was a good reminder not to judge Shallan for whatever weird thing she was trying to explain. 

With a quick wave of Stormlight, Shallan transformed into the darkeyed woman he’d seen earlier, including the costume change.

‘Veil’ smiled broadly at him as she hopped off the table with freehand extended, incongruously adjusting a skirt he couldn’t see. As Veil, Shallan had a grace and ease of movement that Kaladin had never seen in her before. He might have tried recruiting this person to be a Windrunner, if she wasn’t already a Lightweaving. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Kaladin,” Veil grasped his hand firmly.  “Sorry for leaving so many of your men with lighter pockets, but people get persistent when they’re coming from behind, you know?  By the time you arrived, they would’ve just as soon called off dinner as call off the game.”

“Shallan?” Kaladin felt foolish for saying it, but it really didn’t seem like her. He fought the urge to reach for her face, as if that would have cleared anything up.

“I’m Veil,” Shallan - Veil - corrected. “Shallan created me to handle some of her...responsibilities, and it’s still her body in here I guess” — Veil glanced down at herself for confirmation— “but I...we think differently, Shallan and I.  Here,”

Veil hopped back up onto the table, legs swinging. She patted the place beside her where Thaylenah was depicted. 

“I’ll stand,” Kaladin responded warily. “So why did you show up on the balcony?” And who was I kissing, was a question he decided not to ask.

Veil rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to speak badly about Shallan to you, so I’ll just say she needed some encouragement to...take what she wanted.  She was the one that bit you though, don’t worry. And everything after that. I haven’t been with you again since earlier today.”

Veil’s mouth twisted as she knocked her toes together. 

“Kind of missed you a little, actually,” she laughed, bashfully looking up at him. 

“Kaladin, what. ” Syl remarked, unhelpfully echoing his own thoughts. 

Since it was clear Shallan considered Veil to be a separate person, Kaladin realized he needed to start speaking to her that way. But if Veil was separate, were her feelings for him separate, too?

“So...does Adolin know about you?” he asked. 

Veil barked a laugh in response.

“No! Adolin has...no,” she repeated, shaking her head. “He doesn’t know about me. Nobody’s supposed to know, really.”

Veil’s mouth formed a firm line as if in regret. It was so strange, this roughly Shallan-sized person appearing in her place, but seeming like someone altogether different.

“Anyway,” Veil spoke loudly, turning her attention to where Thaylenah was depicted on the table. Kaladin followed her gaze to the map, realizing he’d been staring at her. “You and Shallan are going there?”

******

Being so close to Kaladin had more of an effect on Veil than she cared to admit. She reminded herself continually that Kaladin probably wasn’t interested in her, maybe wasn’t even interested in Shallan anymore, and Veil’s eagerness to see Kaladin again had stupidly compromised her identity. This crush was making her sloppy, but it still felt very worth it. 

Veil’s position on the table meant that Kaladin had to approach her in order to approach the map, which she congratulated herself on as he took a few steps closer.

“We’ll travel by Oathgate to the Shattered Plains before the storm hits -- should I be talking to Shallan right now?” Kaladin hesitated. “Or will you - will she…”

“It’s sort of the same,” Veil responded truthfully. “Everything is technically already in Shallan’s head, so this conversation will be too.” Veil paused. The troubled look that crossed Kaladin’s face was a bad sign. 

“I hope -- don’t think badly about her because of this, OK? You know, maybe it would be better if I just--” Veil waved a hand across her face to signify changing back. 

“No! No, sorry,” Kaladin interrupted, crossing his arms. “I’m just trying to...understand how it works. That’s all. I don’t think badly about Shallan. Or...you.”

Veil trained her focus on the map as she felt Kaladin’s eyes on her, her heart beating so loud she was sure he could hear it.

“Technically I was the one you kissed first,” she muttered. “Shallan started hyperventilating up there and she needed some help. So it was me who did the Stormlight thing first too, technically.” It felt good to take credit for that. Veil didn’t realize how much she’d wanted to.

“I guess that wasn’t really fair to do, though, make you kiss someone you didn’t realize you were kissing,” Veil followed up hastily, speaking to her shoes. Storms, she could face down the Ghostbloods but not Kaladin Stormblessed? This was a considerable weakness. Good to know. 

“Anyway, sorry about that,” Veil muttered. “I’ve never done it again and I never would.” Unless you wanted to , she thought with her whole body. 

Veil forced herself to meet Kaladin’s gaze. He was frowning, but it was more like one of his confused frowns than one of the angry ones.

Three breaths passed. It felt like an hour.

“So, who’s going to Thaylen City with me?” Kaladin changed subjects. “You? Or Shallan?” 

“Shallan got the assignment from Jasnah, so it should be her that goes,” Veil responded, not mentioning that she herself had no interest in that mode of travel. “Which, yeah, I guess it makes sense for her to do this part of the meeting, after all. So that’s goodbye for me.”

Veil hopped off the table and stuck her hand out, relishing the contact too much when Kaladin took it. 

“I would really appreciate it if you kept this - well, me - between us, captain,” Veil lifted her chin and chest slightly in an effort to communicate professionalism.  “I’m glad we got to meet.”

“Me too.” Kaladin was still frowning in the confused way. “And I will. You have my word.”

Chapter Text

Shallan | Kaladin

After practicing in front of Elhokar, it felt less strange to change faces in front of Kaladin. Shallan was a little sad for Veil, whose feelings for Kaladin were stronger than any of them had realized, but it was also unspeakably wonderful to be back in the same room with her hand in his. 

Kaladin also seemed relieved to see Shallan as Shallan again, which gave her the courage to take one step forward and kiss him on the mouth, squeezing his hand tight in the space between their hearts. 

Every one of Shallan’s senses thrilled at the experience, drinking in his sharp intake of breath, the pressure of his lips, the just-in-from-outside fragrance and flavor of his being. Her eyes were closed, so not every sense, then. But still. 

The thrill abruptly subsided when Shallan realized, though Kaladin was still holding tight to her hand, he wasn’t kissing back.

“Sorry,” Shallan pulled away, withdrawing her hand in disappointment and embarrassment. “I’m sorr--”

“It’s OK, I just...storms, I missed you,” Kaladin murmured, angling himself away from her, towards the room’s blank back wall.  

“So, are you better at your job now?” Shallan asked, more bitterly than she would have liked.

“Yes,” Kaladin replied, more quickly than she would have liked.

“Well, I’m around more often at least,” he qualified, “but Bridge Four has made it very clear they suspect something’s been going on with me and someone , so now they’re suspicious because I’m not going out at night. I--”

Kaladin sighed, backing up to the table and placing both hands down behind him. 

“Are you and Adolin…?”

Shallan felt herself blush hard. Had Adolin seriously never mentioned anything to him? 

“Well, he didn’t call off the betrothal,” Shallan said, “but he’s also been avoiding me all week, so…”

Kaladin grunted thoughtfully, looking surprised by that answer. It suddenly occurred to Shallan that Adolin’s behavior these past few days was not a great way to treat someone. But then, she hadn’t treated him very well either, so…

“Yeah,” Shallan shrugged. “I don’t know.  He has a right to feel however he feels about it.” Shallan didn’t particularly agree with that sentiment, but she knew it made her seem mature. 

“Next highstorm’s in a few days, I think,” Kaladin shifted topics, gaze falling on the painted depiction of Thaylenah beside him. “Besides dressing for the outdoors I don’t really think you have to prepare for much.  Before the storm approaches we can meet on the Oathgate platform and head to the Shattered Plains together.”

“OK,” Shallan nodded.  The room felt suddenly oppressive, like being back home again. 

“That’s really it,” Kaladin said, taking his weight back from the table. “I guess I’ll see you then.”

Kaladin made a brief face of irritation before nodding to Shallan. 

“I’m glad to meet Veil,” he said solemnly.  “And I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks for my boots,” Shallan laughed weakly. 

“You’re welcome,” Kaladin nodded, hand already on the door. 

As he exited, Shallan felt an important piece of paper between her fingers. A shout rose in her throat to call him back, tell him she was coming to Kholinar, even though she suddenly dreaded seeing his reaction.

But before it could turn into words, he was gone.

******

“I’m really proud of her,” Syl said as Kaladin walked briskly towards barracks.

“What? Why?” Kaladin demanded, slightly out of breath.  His heart was racing, and he had the irrational feeling of being chased. 

“Because she kissed you first, of course,” Syl gloated, sailing along on her back as if supported by an invisible sofa. “It’s starting to get old, you ignoring me when I tell you to kiss her.”

“What’s starting to get old is you telling me that,” Kaladin grumbled.

“I’ll drop it,” Syl promised, holding her hands up innocently. “Not because you don’t want to kiss her anymore, because you obviously do, but because you don’t need anything else to be grumpy about.”

Syl swirled into a windspren, lapping Kaladin around the shoulders before keeping pace beside him again as a young woman. 

“She looks really cute as that Veil person,” she mused. “A little dangerous too, like--”

“Syl.”

“Fine! Never mind.”

As the distance between him and the map room grew, Kaladin finally felt able to take a deep breath, his pulse and gait returning to normal. 

“I’m proud of you too, Kaladin,” Syl said softly as they walked once more through Bridge Four’s barracks. She was clearly waiting for him to ask how come, so Kaladin took the bait.

“Why’s that.”

“Because,” she explained,  “you admitted that you miss her.”

The scattered hemispheres of Adolin’s handiwork caught Kaladin’s eye as he dropped onto the bed, suddenly exhausted. He reached out absentmindedly to turn one in his fingers. 

“I do,” Kaladin sighed, and a thing in his heart unclenched, though he couldn't yet tell what was held in its grasp.

“I miss her a lot.”