Chapter Text
Kaladin couldn’t sleep.
At first, it was the cold mountain air that kept him from it. He curled in on himself and pulled his blanket close, trying to conserve his body heat. Then it was his thoughts. Sharp thoughts that pierced his abdomen, the pain from them escaping to his throat until he couldn’t breathe. Memories he wished he could forget. Secrets he believed to be true. I am worth nothing, and any worth I might find I do not deserve.
In the end, Kaladin pushed aside his blanket and sat up, the movement surprisingly quick with the nervous energy in his body. He stood and parted the entrance to his tent, hoping he could leave his thoughts behind with his bed.
Kaladin sought out the campfire in hopes that it still held warmth. Instead, he found someone sitting by the embers. Renarin.
The slender man was humming softly to himself, still dressed in his Kholin blue uniform. His hair that usually stayed swept to the side had fallen so his bangs reached just below his eyebrows. Kaladin found it interesting how his eyelashes were just beneath the ends of his hair but were never caught.
Renarin stopped suddenly as Kaladin approached.
“Captain,” he said, sitting up straight.
“There’s not much heat coming off of that, is there.” Kaladin said it more as a remark than a question as he sat on the stone beside Renarin’s, watching the fire die.
“Uh. No, not really.”
Kaladin frowned but didn’t move, instead looking at Renarin.
“What song was that?”
Renarin glanced at him only briefly. “...A lullaby, of sorts. My mother used to sing it to me.”
Kaladin hummed in acknowledgement. His mother--why had Kaladin never heard about her?
“I’m sorry if I kept you awake.”
“It wasn’t you.”
“Right.”
Renarin stared into the pit that had cooked their stew not four hours ago. No sparks flew now. It was quiet. Kaladin glanced up at the sky as the silence drew out.
“I was thinking,” Renarin began quietly, “how lucky is the moon.”
Kaladin raised an eyebrow at him.
“We can stare at the moon as long as we like. But the sun’s light is blinding. It’ll never be fully seen by humans.”
An image appeared in Kaladin’s mind--a memory, though not one that brought pain. He saw Renarin bathed in light, and immediately he remembered the warmth .
“The moon is cold,” Kaladin said simply. “Sunlight isn’t.”
Renarin glanced at him again, and Kaladin met his gaze.
“I guess you’re right.”
Kaladin watched the way Renarin’s eyes watched him, almost as if studying him. It should have unnerved him, but instead he felt...well...warm.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Renarin asked suddenly. “Were you cold?”
Kaladin tore his gaze away from the Kholin prince and instead found a good pile of rocks to stare at.
“Yes.”
Kaladin didn’t hear a response from Renarin. Again, a stillness crept between them, a silence lingering that begged to be freed.
“I could…”
Renarin’s voice trailed off, and Kaladin looked up at him.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Renarin rushed, avoiding Kaladin’s eyes. Kaladin frowned and then it was his turn to study the other man.
Renarin was blushing--at least, Kaladin thought he was, as far as he could see in the near-darkness.
“I don’t think you should light another fire,” Kaladin murmured. “As much as I would appreciate it.”
Renarin paused, seeming to contemplate something.
“No, that’s not what I was going to offer, Captain.”
Kaladin’s eyes flickered to Renarin’s hands, which began subtly moving at his sides.
“I thought maybe...I could...sing. To help you sleep. But I realized that probably wouldn’t do much.”
Kaladin stared at Renarin, and for a moment, he pictured Renarin’s hair hanging in his eyes, staring up at the moon, singing for him--
“Go ahead.”
Renarin looked surprised, and Kaladin couldn’t blame him for being caught off guard. Kaladin caught himself off guard with his request.
“Oh,” the prince replied. “Right. Well, please stop me if I hurt your ears.”
Kaladin nodded, and as Renarin closed his eyes and focused, Kaladin found that warmth returning to his chest.
He hadn’t interacted with Renarin much since the days of training him into bridge four, and even then it was only on occasion, and almost never alone. However, his fellow radiant had always been distinct to Kaladin. He was an anomaly. The lighteyed prince who sought direction in a band of darkeyed former bridgemen. The man who froze in battle yet joined every chance to fight he saw. A man who could heal, yet longed to fight. But then again, hadn’t Kaladin been that before too? A surgeon who insisted on becoming a soldier?
Renarin began to sing.
Immediately, Kaladin felt a chill run through his body when he heard Renarin’s quiet, yet controlled voice. He sang each note clearly, exactly in key. Kaladin suspected he could be singing every note wrong and it would still sound right. And his eyes…
Renarin opened his eyes as the lyrics eased into his mind and he began to grow more comfortable in his small performance. Kaladin stared at them. It was as if the prince was in another world. His eyes shined with emotion, and for the first time in his life, Kaladin saw the beauty in blue.
May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
May it be when darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh, how far you are from home
May it be the shadow’s call
Will fly away
May it be your journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun
Mornië ut úlië
Believe and you will find your way
Mornië ut úlië
A promise lives within you now
A promise lives within you now
Renarin let go of the last note, and Kaladin looked back at him from where he had been studying the land around them.
There was a moment of silence. And then,
“ Storms,” Kaladin breathed. “You can really sing, can’t you?”
Renarin looked away, and Kaladin found himself wanting to smile. So he did.
“...That song was beautiful. That was the lullaby from your mother, wasn’t it?”
Kaladin recognized it quickly while he was singing. Renarin affirmed this with a “yes.”
“It’s good.”
“You aren’t any more tired, are you?”
“No. But I do feel,” Kaladin paused. What was he feeling? His emotions had already been exposed that night, lying in his tent. But that was different from this. He felt… “at peace.”
Renarin faced him again, and Kaladin felt heat rising to his cheeks as Renarin smiled. He smiled at him. His face was bright, and it was because of Kaladin.
“I’m glad, Captain.”
“You don’t have to call me that anymore.”
“Oh.” Renarin’s smile softened. “Thank you, Kaladin.”
Even the way he spoke his name was beautiful. His voice, his contradictions...Renarin. He was beautiful.
Kaladin looked away as the realization hit him.
“Cap--Kaladin?”
Kaladin had closed his eyes, holding them shut as his thoughts raced.
This feeling was one he knew how to name but had never before felt in full. And never would he have guessed he’d have heat in his face, grasping at the fabric of his pants for a lighteyes. A lighteyed man. A lighteyed prince.
“Is there,” Kaladin spoke normally, as if he wasn’t fighting back his mind, “anything I can do to help you sleep in return?”
Renarin was quiet for a moment. Kaladin opened his eyes.
“No,” Renarin said softly. “Sorry.”
Kaladin glanced down.
“But thank y--”
“Close your eyes.”
Renarin stared at Kaladin.
“Um...what? Why?”
Kaladin’s gaze flickered away. Because I can’t look at you while I do this.
“You have your gifts, and I have mine. Now close your eyes.”
Renarin blinked, then closed his eyes once more and kept them closed.
Kaladin didn’t want to let himself scoot closer to the black-and-blonde haired man, but he did. He couldn’t allow himself to reach out toward him, so he didn’t. Instead, he drew closer, leaning into Renarin’s space, feeling the breeze disappear behind the prince. Renarin smelled of smoke and lighteyed baths and dirt and everything Kaladin had never loved until then. His skin looked smooth and it radiated warmth, his eyelashes fluttering as he inevitably must have sensed Kaladin’s presence. Kaladin froze, staring at the place where Renarin’s eyes remained closed. His eyes flickered to the radiant’s shoulders that no longer rose. He was waiting. And suddenly, the fear no longer mattered, and it didn’t mean anything if Kaladin was worth nothing, and it didn’t mean a thing that he didn’t deserve to kiss this wonderful man. Because Renarin was the only thing he’d ever wanted in his life.
Cold hands grabbed at a warm jaw, and Kaladin’s lips met Renarin’s impossibly fast.
Renarin gasped, but his eyes didn’t open. He shut them tight, and then there were warm hands across Kaladin’s back and soft lips pressing back against his own.
All tension drained from the former bridgeman as Renarin kissed it away until all that was left was Kaladin’s lips ghosting against the lighteyed man’s, his fingers resting against his neck.
“Kaladin,” Renarin whispered. “My captain…”
Kaladin pushed his lips back against Renarin’s and muttered his admission to his skin.
“ My love .”
Renarin’s eyelashes tickled Kaladin’s cheek, then suddenly there was a tongue against his lower lip--just the tip, but enough. Renarin trailed his tongue across until Kaladin opened his mouth to ease the blow-- you don’t have to feel the same --only for Renarin to slip inside.
Kaladin had kissed people before. Women only, but still. He knew what it felt like to have someone’s tongue against his own. But never had he had someone explore him like Renarin did. The latter was a radiant, and he sought the truth between Kaladin’s lips.
And then there were fingers in his hair, delicate and nimble, fingertips against his scalp. Kaladin moved his hands behind Renarin’s neck and traced his skin with his thumbs. He memorized the feeling of Renarin’s adam’s apple beneath his skin, the bobbing of it when he swallowed. He raised his tongue to let Renarin’s slip beneath, then needing it, Kaladin pressed their tongues together. Renarin grabbed onto his hair tighter and an “ Ah ,” fell from Kaladin’s lips only to be taken by the other man’s.
Kaladin was the first to pull away, blushing as he realized a bit of space around his lips was wet.
“Ren…”
Renarin opened his eyes and met Kaladin’s, and Kaladin realized by the look he gave him that Renarin wanted this as much as him.
“I should sing for you more often,” Renarin said quietly.
“Is that an offer?”
“Maybe.”
“I have a better idea.”
Renarin looked up at him, and Kaladin stood, offering his hand to the former.
“You’re warm, and there’s a blanket in my tent, which is also warm.”
He pulled Renarin up and began to lead him away when Renarin stopped.
“My tent is bigger,” Renarin explained. “And I have two blankets.”
“As long as you promise to share them both.”
Kaladin joined Renarin in walking in the other direction. Renarin held his tent open for him and then Kaladin was stepping inside Renarin’s makeshift room where everything smelled like Renarin, and there was his bedroll where Renarin slept, blankets that they would share.
Kaladin looked to Renarin for approval before sitting down on his bedroll, getting a blanket ready to throw over himself at his earliest convenience. But when Renarin sat beside Kaladin, the latter did not expect to be pushed down, his waist grabbed by passionate hands, his vision filled with black and golden hair as Renarin kissed him once again.
Kaladin let his eyes fall closed and reached for a handful of Renarin’s hair, soft sounds filling the air as they kissed.