Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You could talk to me,” Adolin complained, tapping his head back against the bars of the cell. “I have, after all, locked myself in here with you as a sign of support-“
“No one asked you to.”
Adolin let out an exasperated sigh as he regarded Captain Kaladin. Or, to be more accurate, as he regarded Captain Kaladin’s back; the man had been lying with his face to the wall when Adolin had locked himself in more than three hours ago and, apart from briefly twisting around to see what was going on, hadn’t moved since.
“Tell me about Amaram,” Adolin suggested. There was no response, and Adolin struggled to shove down his annoyance. As he glared at Kaladin’s back, he found his gaze drawn to the Captain’s bare feet. They were covered in thin, diagonal scars, evenly spaced across his soles, that were far too precise to have been an accident. Adolin’s irritation at the man’s surliness faded as he recalled part of the slave ledger Shoren had read out to him, a receipt of sale from the first owner, to the slaver who had sold Kaladin on to his second master.

“Subject of sale has run from previous owner three times in the last month. Usual fleeing prevention methods recommended for merchant and/or next buyer.”

Staring at the scars on Kaladin’s feet, Adolin wondered whether they were what had been meant by “usual fleeing prevention methods”. Would someone do that to another person? Slice across the soles of their feet, making it too painful to walk with ease, let alone run? Slaves are property, Adolin reminded himself. Of course an owner takes precautions to stop his property running away, it’s no different to putting an axhound on a leash-.
Except people weren’t axhounds. Adolin had some vague, dim memory of his mother, thin lipped and shaking with rage as she comforted one of the serving girls. At the time, Adolin hadn’t understood why the woman was crying, or why mother was holding her – mother didn’t normally hold darkeyed people like that, or anyone like that really except for him and sometimes Renarin. Now, he thought he could probably make an accurate guess. But even if he hadn’t quite understood then exactly what had been going on, he remembered his mother, turning her head slightly to see him hovering awkwardly on the doorway- he could remember her voice.

“So help me, Adolin, if you ever treat someone like an object, or an animal to be used and discarded at your pleasure- I swear to the Almighty I will disown you. Do you
understand?”

Adolin sighed again, this time one of regret, rather than annoyance. He had told Shoren to read Kaladin’s ledger to him the same night Ialai had handed it to Aunt Navani at a feast with a smile on her face.

“I’ve highlighted the bits you might find interesting. Cowardice, desertion, armed rebellion. That sort of thing.”

Adolin had used it to argue against his father’s decision. Dalinar had listened to what he said grim faced, then told him to burn the ledger.

“I should imagine that thing contains the sources of many of the arguments Captain Kaladin has used to convince himself that lighteyes cannot be trusted. You will not speak of this with anyone, least of all him. Do you understand?”

Adolin had snapped, but he’d agreed. And there was something odd about the bridgeboy. In the duel- he’s managed to shatter Relis’ plate with his feet, and they didn’t look broken. They didn’t even looked bruised. And then there had been that windspren-

Something blue flashed in front of his vision, and  he yelled, jumping to his feet in shock. Kaladin moved lightning-fast, turning and jumping to his feet, hand going to his hip before it froze, finding only thin air where a knife should be. 

“What,” the bridgeboy said as he lowered his arm, in a tone that implied Adolin was an idiot, “Was that about?”
“I thought I saw my face!” Adolin said.
Kaladin grunted. “I can understand why that might make someone scream.”
“Very funny,” Adolin snapped back. “But actually, I yelled. And you would yell to if a blue, transluscent version of your head was suddenly hovering in front of you. It must have been a windspren or something.” He ran his hand through his hair, waiting to be laughed at for being startled by something so mundane as a spren. Instead, Kaladin’s eyes widened in surprise and then darkened with annoyance, going slightly cross eyed as he appeared to focus on something just past the end of his nose.
“Bridgeboy?” Adolin said. “Everything alright?”
“Fine,” Kaladin muttered. Somehow, Adolin didn’t think the words were directed at him.
Looking irritated, Kaladin sank back down on to the stone bench, folding his arms.
“How’s your girlfriend?” He asked.
“What?”
“Your girlfriend. Short woman, red hair, extremely irritating.”
Adolin scowled. “She’s not irritating. And she’s not short, either. She has a height which is perfectly suited to her frame-“
“She barely comes up past my elbow.” Kaladin paused, considering something. “Of course, you only only just come up to my forehead, so I suppose-“
“You’re just freakishly tall,” Adolin retorted. “It’s those lovely long legs of yours-“
Almost imperceptibly, Kaladin flinched. Adolin paused, trying to work out what could possibly have triggered such a reaction. Surely the bridgeboy wasn’t fragile about his height, and all Adolin had said was that the Captain had lovely long legs…
“The men who guard me most,” Adolin asked, deciding it was probably safer to change the subject completely. “What are their names?”
“Why don’t you ask them yourself?” Kaladin’s snappish tone was back; he had drawn his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them like a child.
“I would, but I’m locked up in prison with their Captain.” Kaladin studied him, ahead tilted slightly as if trying to decide whether Adolin was worthy to be told anything about the Captian’s precious men.
“Skar and Drehy,” Kaladin said eventually. “Skar is the one with silver at the temples, Drehy is the one with long arms.”
“They’re good men,” Adolin said. “You trained them well.”
A little of the tension seemed to drain from Kaladin’s shoulders at the compliment, but he made no response. His gaze had gone distant again, like he was seeing something not really there. His lips moved slightly, like he was having a conversation with himself, before he sighed. “Three days,” he said firmly
“Three days what?”
Kaladin jumped, like he’d forgotten Adolin was there.
“Nothing.” He said. “Just- nothing.”
Adolin stared at him as he slowly lay back down, stretching himself out and staring at the ceiling. Having nothing better to do, he continued to stare until he dozed off, still wondering exactly what Kaladin had meant when he'd said "Three Days," and who he might have been speaking to.

Chapter Text

“I don’t see why his face might make a person scream,” Syl declared, hovering inches from Adolin’s drooling mouth. The position the princeling was slumped in didn’t look a remotely comfortable one, but then, Kaladin doubted Adolin found anything less than a four poster bed with a feather mattress on it comfortable.

“Don’t be grumpy.” Syl chided him, sensing his thoughts without looking round. “I think it’s romantic.”

Kaladin choked. “Romantic?”

Syl spun around to face him, cocking her head to one side. “Romantic. It’s when one person does something kind for another one, right? “

“No.” Kaladin said.

“But Sigzil was calling Peet romantic for buying a bracelet for that girl. Ka. And that was being nice, right? So romantic is-“

“Romantic is a different kind of nice.” Kaladin said firmly. “It’s…” storms, how could he explain it to Syl in terms that she would understand? “It doesn’t apply to what Adolin is doing.”

“Why not?” Syl asked, hands on hips.

“Because the Princling and I aren’t courting.”

“Why not?”

“Why- because-“ Kal spluttered, then caught sight of the twinkle in his spren’s eyes. “Syl!”

She laughed, becoming a ribbon of light and shooting off through the cell bars. Kaladin felt a surge of panic, realising that she had left him alone-

Adolin snored slightly, head lolling to the other side. Kaladin fixed his eyes on him, and found his heart rate slowed down slightly.

It wasn’t that Kaladin minded isolation. There were times when he welcomed it. But being forcibly kept from other people? It brought back bad memories. Although Kaladin wasn’t a hundred percent sure never ending blackness and cold counted as a memory.

“Do you dislike him?”

Kaladin turned his head to see Syl hovering softly next to him, sitting cross legged in the air.

“Adolin,” she repeated. “Do you dislike him?”

“I…” Kaladin hesitated. “ The princling was arrogant, spoiled, and part of a group of people who had consistently tried to do Kaladin harm; he was the cousin of the man who had locked him in here!

And he was in here to.

And the men- not Kaladin’s men, but the others, the old  Cobalt Guard, the rest of Dalinar’s force. They liked him well enough. He treated them with respect, and they returned it.

Of course, the men had respected Amaram. But Adolin…

He was open. Kaladin’s appointment had annoyed him, and he showed than annoyance openly. He hadn’t schemed or plotted, or, or…

“I don’t dislike him,” he admitted quietly.

“What about Dalinar? Do you dislike him?”

“Right now?” Kaladin asked sardonically.

“You could have been executed,” Syl said quietly.

Kaladin snorted.

“Is the king wrong for upholding the laws of his kingdom?” Syl demanded.

“That particular law is disgusting and vile,” Kaladin spat.

“Elhokar didn’t write it.”

“He upholds it.”

“Because it’s the law of the kingdom he serves.”

“This wasn’t about duty, Syl,” Kaladin snapped, waving a hand around his cell. “This- it wasn’t about Elhokar doing his duty. His duty is supposed to be to care for his people. All of them, not just the ones with the right colour eyes.”

“So you dislike him,” Syl said quietly, “because he’s not doing the job he’s supposed to?”

Kaladin fell silent. He understood exactly what Syl was getting at and it made him uncomfortable. He looked away. “If I decide to tell Adolin,” he said slowly, “about you, I mean...”

“Yes?” Syl asked.

Kaladin shook his head. “Never mind. I probably won’t even do it.”

He lay back on the hard stone bench, arms behind his head, and closed his eyes.

####

“Ow,” Adolin moaned as he tried to straighten his neck. “Owwwww...” His muscles ached. All of them. Every where. “Ow ow ow ,” he muttered to himself as he levered himself upright and stretched. “Next time I go to sleep like that, kick me,” he said.

“I would, but I’d probably be arrested for striking a superior officer.”

Adolin glanced in surprise at Kaladin. He hadn’t expected a response from the man, and certainly not one that sounded so...civil.

“You’ve already been arrested,” he pointed out. “I don’t think kicking me is going to make it any worse.”

“It might even make it better,” Kaladin replied. “You might get fed up and leave me in peace.”

“Sorry, bridgeboy. But I’m here to make your life miserable. I am a lighteyes after all.”

The corners of Kaladin’s lips curled slightly. It wasn’t a smile. But it could have been.

And it vanished at the sound of heavy footsteps heading in their direction.

Adolin was startled by the speed at which Kaladin tensed, shooting to his feet with his eyes fixed firmly on the door. He himself turned rather more slowly, curious, rather than alert. After all, they were in a prison cell. Logically speaking, it was probably one of the safest places in the war camp.

Unless the Blackthorn happened to stride in to it, face like thunder and fists clenched at his sides, an anxious jailor following on his heels.  Adolin took an involuntary step back as the jailer unlocked the cell door and Dalinar walked up to it. Adolin swallowed. He had pushed having to deal with his  father to the back of his mind whilst moral outrage had been his primary emotion. Looking back on it, that could rather prove to be an oversight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kaladin had saluted and wondered, briefly, if he ought to the same.

That would acknowledge that he has command over you, he thought to himself. He can’t, not in this, not if this is going to work.

“You, come out of there, now.” Dalinar snapped.

Adolin  straightened his spine. “No, father.”

“Damn it all, Adolin, this isn’t something you can do! The message you are sending about your regard for your cousin is-“

“Probably entirely accurate,” Adolin said calmly, meeting his father’s eyes. “I have thought this through, father,” he hesitated. “The Codes claim you shouldn’t ask one of your  men to do anything you wouldn’t do yourself,” he said. “If you had been sold in to slavery on false pretences, would you be prepared to keep quiet about it?”

“That would rather depend on the situation.” Dalinar shot a glance at Kaladin, who hadn’t lowered his salute. He’s waiting to be told he can stand at ease, Adolin guessed. He’s letting father know that he will still obey his commands. He wondered if Dalinar would draw the same conclusion.

The Blackthorn sighed, and his gaze softened a little. “At ease, soldier.”

Kaladin relaxed.

“Adolin,” Dalinar said. “Protesting is one thing. Locking yourself up in a cell is another. Locking yourself up in the same cell as Captain Kaladin? It’s a different thing again, and it is damaging the House of Kholin. The damage will have to be fixed later, and not necessarily at your expense.” His eyes flickered towards Kaladin again, who had turned away slightly as if to give some semblance of privacy to the argument between his commanding officer and his commanding officer’s son.

“Locking Captain Kaladin up in the first place is going to have damaged Elhokar,” Adolin argued. “You know what the ordinary soldiers think about him.”

It  felt incredibly rude to be having this conversation whilst Kaladin was in the same room. Nonetheless, Adolin pressed on. “Elhokar is a distant figure to them. Kaladin saved us all at the Tower-“

“I am well aware of the dynamics, Adolin, they are one of the things that make this so dangerous!” Dalinar’s voice was low and terse. “You have made your point. Leave it.”

Adolin raised his chin. “No,” he said again.

Dalinar nodded, once. “So be it. I just pray I am able to mitigate the consequences as far as I am able.” He turned, and left without saying another word.

“You can lock us back up,” Adolin said cheerfully to the embarrassed looking jailor, before turning back to face Kaladin. “You alright?”

“Thank you,” Kaladin said simply.

It took Adolin a moment to realise what he was saying.

“It’s not a problem. It just doesn’t seem right, you being locked up in here- Renarin and I would both be dead if it weren’t for you- well,” he amended, slightly bitterly. “Renarin would be dead. I’d be unable to use my legs and at least one of my arms.”

“They’d want to keep you alive to prove they were powerful,” Kaladin said.

“Yeah,” Adolin said.

“I’m sorry. For screwing up your chances with Sadeas,” Kaladin hesitated. Adolin could almost hear his brain ticking, like one of Aunt Navani’s fabrials. Eventually, he spread his hands. “If it makes you feel better, one of my men put chull dung in Sadeas’ food once.”

Adolin choked. “What?!”

Kaladin smirked. “Oh, yes. Apparently, what happened was this...”

Chapter Text

“And he actually ate it!?” Adolin howled, tears streaming down his face as he lay on the cell floor, shaking with laughter. “He actually ate it!”

Kaladin smiled, resting his head back against the stone shelf that doubled as a bed. “It’s not that funny, princeling.”

“Sadeas ate chull dung!”

“He might not have,” Kaladin pointed out. “It might have been some poor food taster who got a mouthful of-“

“Chull dung.”

Kaladin rolled his eyes as Adolin collapsed in to hysterics again. “We should tell Wit,” the prince said gleefully. “No, scrap Wit- we should put up massive signs right across all ten war camps and paint a picture on the side of Sadeas’ palace.”

It took another few minutes before Adolin regained control of himself and sat up straight, wiping his eyes but still grinning. He looked at Kaladin, who had tilted his head up towards the ceiling slightly. There was a faint smile on his face, and his whole posture seemed more open, more relaxed. It made such a difference; for the first time Adolin found his eyes drawn more to the other man’s high cheekbones than his scowl, he noticed Kaladin's strong jawline, and the way his pure black hair curled around his face and fell down to his shoulders, curls brushing the  collar of his white shirt. Adolin curled his hands in to fists as he felt a familiar jolt in his stomach- the same one he felt when he saw Shallan. The one he still felt when he saw Danlan in his father’s palace, although he tried to avoid that.

The one that could make this incredibly, incredibly awkward if Kaladin noticed the way Adolin was-

“What?”

Apparently, Kaladin had noticed him staring. Storms. Adolin looked away, cheeks flushing slightly pink. “Nothing. Just- you look happy.”

Kaladin shrugged. “Talking was nice.” His smile faded a bit. “It’s a bit strange, actually. I don’t remember the last time I talked to someone like that.”

Like what? Adolin thought. All Kaladin had done, really, was share an anecdote of something that had happened to someone else. A hilarious anecdote, to be sure, and Adolin had enjoyed seeing Kaladin so animated. The Captain used his hands a lot when talking; it was quite endearing. But…it hadn’t quite been a conversation. Adolin had made some interjections, but it had mostly been one sided. Because it had been an anecdote of something that had happened to someone else.

Maybe it had been the lack of guardedness, the fact the Kaladin hadn’t had to check what he was saying?

“You talk with your men like that, surely?” Adolin said.

Kaladin snorted. “They’re too busy putting me on a pedestal. I’m too busy trying to keep you and the rest of your family alive, when I’m not too busy trying to train the other men…Skar, Teft and I keep missing each other because of the way our shifts work out and Moash-“Kaladin fell abruptly silent, mouth twisting. “You try being friends with someone when you have to expect them to follow your orders even when they disagree with you,” he said.

Adolin stared. The argument sounded eerily similar to one he had had with his father, when Dalinar had told him he was growing too friendly with some of the men.

“It’s going to lead to bitterness, Adolin. They’ll be something you need them to do which they won’t want to. And because they see you as a friend, they’ll try to argue with you. And you’ll be forced, as a commanding officer, to discipline them for insubordination if they won’t shut up.”

Suddenly, Adolin saw the Captain in a whole new light. How many times had Kaladin left a shift guarding Dalinar to walk Aunt Navani home and spend the night standing outside Elhokar’s door? More than once, Adolin knew that for sure. And when he wasn’t on duty…

Adolin had heard men in the war camps whisper about Kaladin, the things he had supposedly done. Surviving the night strung up in a highstorm. Holding the bridgehead in the Battle of the Tower by himself. He was a hero to most of the Kholinar soldiers for saving them that day- how much more of a hero would he be to the bridgemen for saving them from the bridge crews? And then there was the weird aura of invincibility around Kaladin, his almost perfect skill. Did Bridge Four notice it to? Too busy putting him on a pedestal.

Kaladin never interacted with other officers, except in his own capacity as Captain of Dalinar’s Honour Guard. As Captain of the King’s Guard. As commander of a battalion of men patrolling the Shattered Plains.

He must be a very lonely man.

“You’re outside the chain of command,” Adolin hedged. Kaladin looked at him warily. “You don’t have to do what I say. I don’t have to do what you say.”

 And the guy I would have said was my best friend a week ago just tried to kill me in the duelling arena. Most of the rest of my peers are too concerned about upsetting Sadeas to be seen with me.

“Come and talk to me sometime when your off duty.” He added.

“He doesn’t get off duty.” Adolin jumped at the voice in his ear.

“What-“

“Ever. He works all the time. It’s boring.” Adolin’s eyes opened wide as he saw a windspren, formed like a young woman hovering in front of him. There was something inherently mischievous about her gaze.

“He actually ate it?” she grinned. “Talking was nice.”

“Okay, you’re weird.” Adolin said firmly.

“Excuse me?” Kaladin looked affronted, and Adolin realised he hadn’t spotted the spren. Or had he? His gaze was slightly averted, like he was trying too hard not to look at where the thing was.

Adolin hesitated. “Spren,” he said. “It probably overheard some conversations, ours included and now it’s mimicking them at me. Except one of the things it said sounded like it was taking part in the conversation we were just having.”

Kaladin shrugged. “She probably just got lucky. It-“he froze, and Adolin grinned.

“I never said anything about a she, Captain. Something you want to tell me about your friend here who I’m reasonably sure was spinning around you at the duel, now I come to think about it-”

He broke off as he noticed Kaladin’s expression. The man didn’t look embarrassed at being caught out, or puzzled, like he was going to try and talk his way out of it.

Kaladin looked terrified. He looked like he was contemplating flight, only where could he run to, trapped in this cage as he was. And the windspren was looking slightly guilty, as if she hadn’t anticipated Adolin’s reaction. She hovered for a few more moments before vanishing from view. Kaladin’s hair stirred, like a breeze had gone to sit on his shoulder.

“I-“

Kaladin’s eyes darted around the cell, looking anywhere except for at Adolin.

“Is it to do with how you ran the assassin in white off?” Adolin asked, careful to make his tone curious rather than accusatory. “I thought I saw his shardblade go through your arm. The one your uniform sleeve came off. Storms! If you can heal shardplate wounds-“

“I can’t!” Kaladin said, sounding panicked. “Not- I mean- I don’t think I could heal other people, it’s…” he took a deep breath. “Promise me you won’t tell your father, or anyone else.”

Adolin started. “I-“

“Promise me! I need to know…I’ll tell him, of course I’ll tell him, but not yet, not now. Not with Amaram…” Kaladin’s words had slipped in to mumbling and he was looking down at his shoulder. Talking to the spren, perhaps? “You couldn’t have been patient. Two more days, then probably…yes, I would have…that’s not fair, Syl, you know its not-“

“I’m not going to tell father,” Adolin interrupted. “Unless I think whatever it is will put him in danger if it stays hidden.”

Kaladin’s attention swung back to him. “I used stormlight,” he admitted reluctantly, shifting. “I can do…what the assassin can do, except the assassin isn’t…the assassin isn’t one of the Knights Radiant. I am.”

Adolin stared. “You’re a what?”

“A radiant.” Kaladin’s shoulders slumped and he avoided Adolin’s eyes.

“But…father is trying to refound the radiants! Why wouldn’t you tell h-“Adolin skidded to a halt, then closed his eyes, groaning softly.  “Amaram. Father refound the knights radiant with Amaram in charge.”

“He’d have told Dalinar earlier, but Amaram arrived at the Shattered Plains,” the windspren was back- Syl? Was that what Kaladin had called her. “Amaram makes his head go funny,” she confided. “He stops thinking properly, and then he does stupid things.” She waved a translucent arm around the cell as if to prove a point. Kaladin scowled.

“This is big,” Adolin whispered. “This is- massive… Are you the only one? Or-“

“There was another type of spren at the arena. A …cryptic?” Kaladin glanced at Syl, who sniffed.

“Horrid thing. It was by Renarin, but it wasn’t his, and it hid from me before I could work out whose it was.”

Horrid? Adolin felt a flash of panic. “Are they dangerous? Was Renarin in danger when it was with him?”

Syl pulled a face “No-o,” she admitted. “Cryptics aren’t evil. They’re just…idiotic,” she sniffed. “They have absolutely no principles.”

“And you?” Adolin asked. “What are your principles?”

“I’m an honourspren.” Syl said.

“And that means…”

“It means I’m a windrunner,” Kaladin explained. “I protect people who need it-“he broke abruptly, seeming troubled. “That’s…stormfather.” He buried his face in his hands.

“Kaladin’s having a crisis.” Syl confided. “He’ll get there, though. I think you’re helping.”

Adolin frowned. “How?”

Syl shrugged. “You’re a lighteyes. You’re being nice. It makes a change for him.”

Chapter Text

“So,” Adolin said eventually. “Anything I can help you with?”

Kaladin raised his head. “No. Not unless- no, not really.”

“Okay.”

They lapsed back in to a slightly awkward silence, which Adolin broke again after a few minutes.

“What can you do? With the...radiant stuff?”

“I can walk on walls.” Kaladin said. “I can fly- well, I say fly. Technically it’s falling, just...the wrong way. I can stick stuff on walls. I heal more quickly, move faster, don’t need to breath as much.”

“Anything else?” Adolin asked.

“Once I managed to draw an entire flock of arrows to one shield,” Kaladin said. “But I don’t know how. I haven’t been able to replicate it.”

Adolin frowned. “When was that? I don’t remember you being attacked by arrows.”

Kaladin looked at him in disbelief. “Bridge crew,” he said.

“This was happening in Sadeas’ warcamp?” Adolin asked.

“Yeah.”

“And before that?” Adolin asked. “I mean...under your other masters...in Amaram’s army...when did it start?”

Kaladin paused. “I don’t know. Syl claims she both has and hasn’t been with me since childhood-I know that doesn’t make sense,” he admitted. “I started breathing in stormlight after Sadeas strung me up in a Highstorm-“

“That’s true?” Adolin asked.

“You’ve heard about that?” Kaladin didn’t look overly pleased. Adolin shrugged.

“It got around the warcamp pretty quickly once some of your men started going drinking with some of the old cobalt guard. Along with something about dodging a whole flock of parshendi arrows that were being aimed at you specifically-“

“I’m going to kill them.” Kaladin swore. “The second I get out of this place, I’m going to kill the lot of them, I don’t need rumours like that going round the camp, making out I’m some sort of- some sort of-“

“Radiant?” Adolin suggested.

“Storm off.”

“Can’t. Locked up, remember?”

Kaladin stared around moodily. “How could I forget?”

“Elhokar will cool off.” Adolin said confidently. “If only because he needs you- for days after the balcony incident you were the only person who cared about what happened to him, he was unbearable.” And that, apparently, was making Kaladin’s mood worse; his face had grown dark and his eyes stormy. “Anyway,” Adolin said hastily. “Kaladin- are you always called Kaladin, or does anyone call you Kal?”

“Some of the men, occasionally.” Kaladin said, pulling away from his train of thought with visible effort. “My parents used to-” he stopped abruptly.

“Used to?” Adolin prompted quietly.

“Yeah, I , uh...I haven’t spoken to them in five years.” Kaladin avoided Adolin’s  gaze.

“How come?”

“I joined the army.”

Adolin sighed inwardly. He wasn’t doing a very good job at lightning the mood. Does it matter? he asked himself. He’s in prison, he just confessed a secret he was terrified of anyone else knowing and you’ve just gone and dragged up his past for him. He’s entitled to be less than happy.

“You know what I hate about lighteyes?” Kaladin said abruptly. “It’s the way you treat the people beneath you as expendable”

“We don’t-“ Adolin objected, then caught himself and stopped. “I’m sorry, Ignore me,” he said.

The look Kaladin shot him was unreadable, but he began to talk again.

“You don’t care about training soldiers properly. It’s too much hassle, too much effort, too much money, when you can just through them in to border wars and see who survives, pick the best of them up and bring them out to the Shattered Plains. You’ll never run out of men because you can just get your city lords to conscript people, children...” Kaladin trailed off. “Do you know what the law forbidding darkeyes to slander lighteyes means?” he asked. “It means you can do what you like with impunity. Because anyone who might speak out against you can be thrown in to prison and executed at the drop of a hat. We have to rely on other brightlords to take our side and speak out for us, but those brightlords don’t like to think their friends might be liars and murders so they ignore it! Because that’s easier!” Kaladin’s voice rose to a shout and he sprang up from the bench, striding across the cell and slamming his hand in to the bars  of the cell. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead in the gap between the two bars. Adolin hesitated, then rose to his feet and placed a light hand on Kaladin’s shoulder.

Kaladin flinched. Adolin drew his hand away like he’d been stung.

“Amaram promised he’d keep my brother away from the front line,” Kaladin said quietly, staring out of the cell. Words came rushing from him like he’d been saving them up his entire life. “Tien was thirteen, he- he’d been conscripted by Amaram’s cousin because father couldn’t save his son. Amaram, noble, honourable, Amaram...”

“Your brother died?” Adolin guessed quietly.

“Three  months. The front lines. His squadleader used him and two other boys as decoys.”

“You saw?” Adolin was horrified. He imagined watching Renarin- but no, he couldn’t. The duelling arena had been horrible enough, and Kaladin’s brother had been thirteen. “I’m sorry.” Adolin whispered.

“I couldn’t do anything.” Kaladin whispered. “And when Amaram killed my men- It was the first time I’d been so completely helpless in four years. In the arena- I saw him sitting there. With a shardblade he had killed my men for because “hundreds of lives will be saved by my decision, soldier” and what in damnation’s eleventh name was he doing with it? Nothing. His old friend’s sons were probably going to die and he wasn’t using the shardblade he took from me in order to save those hundreds of lives to stop it, it was...never mind.” Kaladin turned, and slid down the bars to the floor.

Adolin didn’t know what to say. He’d never heard so much come from the Captain at once, and such a storm of information! An injury five years old and still raw, the implication that Kaladin had already spoken to father about Amaram- surely father hadn’t just dismissed that, in light of how Sadeas turned out...

Or because of how Sadeas turned out. Would Dalinar ignore something if it meant he didn’t have to turn against the second of his old friends in a matter of weeks?

Possibly...

Kaladin didn’t trust Dalinar. That was what bothered Adolin the most- if Kaladin trusted Dalinar, he’d have been honest about how he defeated the assassin, he would have kept quiet in the arena, trusting that Dalinar was looking in to the situation and Amaram would be brought to justice, eventually. How many pieces did you have to be in before trading a shardblade for your freedom wouldn’t be enough to convince you someone wasn’t going to hurt you? Adolin thought back to the flinch- what had Kaladin expected him to try and do?

“Kal,” he said softly, sitting back down next to Kaladin. “When you were enslaved- did you try and tell anyone the truth? About what happened?”

Kaladin snorted. “Of course I did.”

“And?” Adolin hedged.

“The slaver forced me to swallow about a litre of salt water to wash the lies out of my mouth then had his mercenaries beat me until I confessed to desertion. The overseer on my second master’s estates found out from one of the other slaves what I’d told a friend and whipped me half to death. My third master made me kneel in a freezing cellar for ten days whilst his ardents prayed to the Almighty that my delusions would be healed and I would become a good and obedient slave. When it didn’t work he decided I was possessed and-“ Kaladin broke off. “I don’t want to tell that story,” he mumbled. He had slumped towards Adolin slightly, and Adolin closed the gap, wrapping his arms around the Captain’s frame. It wasn’t until he felt small tremors running through the man’s body that he realised Kaladin was crying. Crying. Storms. What was Adolin supposed to do now?

Gently, Adolin guided Kaladin sideways, so the Captain’s head was in his lap. Close enough for comfort, but not too close Kal couldn’t pull away if he needed to. Adolin stroked Kaladin’s hair, running his fingers through the same few strands, not saying anything, not trying to make it better, just being there.

It was the same way aunt Navani had held him after she’d explained that a plague raging through the Kholinar had killed mother, and the quarantine on the city meant that  father couldn’t come home.

Chapter Text

The next three weeks were oddly relaxing for Adolin. There was nothing he was expected to do or say, no feasts to go to, no troops to inspect or lead- just sit in a prison cell, talking, eating, sleeping, talking some more. It was an overwhelming release from duty, and Adolin found himself feeling strangely free.

The same couldn’t be said for Kaladin. The morning after he woke with his head in Adolin’s lap, he spiralled downwards into complete listlessness, interspersed with periods of extreme restlessness. Sleepless nights became more and more common; Adolin heard him tossing and turning at night, and saw the shadows under his eyes grow more and more pronounced each new day. What was it Shallan said about whitespines? Adolin thought. They don’t do well in captivity...

Dalinar didn’t come to visit. That surprised Adolin; he had assumed his father would be back to discuss Kaladin’s behaviour with the Captain. As Adolin fell asleep that night, he wondered at Dalinar’s absence, and what it might mean....

Adolin woke to shouting. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear a Highstorm crashing- it must have been viscous beyond measure for him to be able to hear it from so deep underground. Briefly, Adolin thought of his father and the visions he must be seeing, but there was something else worrying him. What was it? Sitting up on the stone bench, Adolin peered blearily around the empty cell. It was dimly lit; Adolin had requested the guards leave some light after he had noticed how the darkness seemed to bother Kaladin-

Oh no...

Adolin suddenly became aware that the door had been forced from its hinges, that the shouts were guards yelling to each other-

“Adolin!” A flurry of blue light appeared in front of him and Syl materialised, her face frantic. “Adolin, he won’t wake up!”

“Kaladin?” Adolin asked. “What do you mean, he won’t wake up-“

“It’s the storm,” Syl said. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s still asleep-“

Adolin was already running, out of the cell and towards the commotion. Stormfather, this was bad. This was very, very, very bad...

Kaladin ran. He didn’t know why he was running, he just knew he had to. There was something...someone...it was about the storm- yes, that was it. He had to outrun the Highstorm. TOO LATE, CHILD OF HONOUR. A voice boomed, and the whole world shook. IT HAS BEGUN; YOU CANNOT STOP IT. He was running through a city that stood in ruins, like someone had hollowed towers out of the plateus on the shattered plains. There was some kind of singing, angry, hate filled chanting and the rain, the driving rain... There was a parshendi- a woman? She had long hair and violet eyes, and she was smiling. “Nasuda Kadal,” she whispered. “You gave me the excuse I needed.” Her eyes flashed red and suddenly Kaladin was surrounded by parshendi, all of them red eyed like some sort of voidbringer and they were tearing at him, stabbing...one of them grabbed him from behind, strong arms wrapping round Kaladin’s torso. Kaladin cried aloud, lashing out with his feet and twisting, grabbing the knife the man was carrying at his side and plunging it-

“Kaladin, no!”

-in to the stomach of a wide eyed guard dressed in Kholin blue.

Kaladin stumbled backwards in horror, raising his hands in front of him as if to ward off the horrid reality. Blood dripped down his palm. “No,” he mumbled through numb lips. “No, no...”

Hands caught him as his legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed on to the floor, shaking. “I don’t understand. Where am I? What happened?” What have I done?

“Kaladin?”  Adolin’s voice sounded in his ear.

“What have I done?” Kaladin moaned. “What have I done?”

“Brightlord, you need to step back, please.”

There was something wet on his cheeks. Tears? When had he started crying?

“Brightlord Adolin-“

“Oh leave off,” Adolin snapped. “You all saw what happened, he was caught up in a nightmare that caused him to sleep walk-“

“I’m sorry, brightlord, but until we’ve notified Highprince Dalinar and the king of the situation, we have to treat this as both an attempted escape and attempted murder of an officer on duty.”

Kaladin knelt in the corridor, trembling. Adolin’s arms were around him, and Kaladin wanted nothing more than to close his eyes, lean back and sleep.

“Kaladin,” Adolin said quietly. “They need to bind your wrists.” Kaladin made no response, and Adolin exhaled softly. “Kaladin...”

A sob escaped his lips, harsh and unexpectedly loud in the silent corridor. Adolin squeezed his arm and kissed the top of his head, then moved back. Someone else took his space, taking Kaladin’s arms and wrenching them behind his back, tying a length of rope around his wrists and lower arms.

“Gently!” Adolin warned sharply. “Take him to the sickbay, not his cell.”

“Yes brightlord.”

Kaladin allowed himself to be raised to his feet, turned around and led out of the corridor. A ribbon of blue light twirled around him, invisible at that moment even to him.

Chapter Text

“Well,” Elhokar said, arms folded and eyes glittering with anger. “I hope you’re satisfied, uncle.”

Dalinar pulled his hands over tired eyes, wishing to the Almighty this could have happened on a day when he hadn’t spent the last few hours thrashing around speaking gibberish. Navani rested a hand on his shoulder, a silent sign of support and sympathy. Adolin glared at the king.

“He didn’t do it on purpose.”

“He was asleep?” Dalinar questioned. Adolin had told him that earlier, but he needed to clarify…

“Yes, he was asleep. All the guards saw that, they’ll all say the same thing,” his eldest son spoke impatiently. Dalinar could not remember the last time he had seen his son so dishevelled; he had the beginnings of  a beard and his hair and clothes were a mess. Navani had told him that Adolin’s mother would have been proud of what he’d done. On a personal level, Dalinar was a little proud as well- but now wasn’t the time for that. Elhokar was speaking again.

“Did you see it? With your own two eyes?”

“I know he was sleeping-“

“How?” Elhokar demanded. “Doesn’t it strike you as a little bit odd that the man managed to break out of a cell in his sleep, then grab a knife from one of the guards and stab him without waking up?”

“What are you suggesting, Elhokar?” Dalinar said sharply.

Adolin snorted. “He’s suggesting it was all a hoax. Kaladin was faking it to escape properly; presumably you think the guards were all in on it as well, cousin?”

Elhokar’s eyes flashed. “You will watch your tongue when you talk to me, cousin. Why was the bridgeman not restrained by the first guards he came across, hm, why was he not woken up?”

“Bast is one of the prison’s  trained surgeons, he said it can be dangerous to force a sleepwalker to wake up, it can damage them-“

“And so instead, one of the other prison guards was stabbed in the stomach.”

“He didn’t know what he was doing!” Adolin yelled.

“That’s enough!” Dalinar roared. “Your behaviour over the last few weeks has reflected poorly on all of us, Adolin, you will speak to the king with respect or you will leave the room.”

Adolin flinched, then stiffened his spine and bowed to the king. “I apologize for my behaviour, your majesty. I am merely concerned for the welfare of the man who has saved every single member of this family at least once over.”

Elhokar nodded, once. “We are all grateful to Kaladin Stormblessed. But that gratitude does not lesson the severity of the law in cases such as these. Attempted escape and murder each carry death sentences. Word of this will spread throughout all ten camps and we cannot give the impression that we hold any man above the law- especially not after the…situation with Amaram.”

Dalinar felt a chill crawl down his spine. “Elhokar, you do not mean to sentence him to death.”

Elhokar met his gazew. “Yes, uncle, I do.”

“You-“ Adolin lurched forward

“Peace, cousin! The sentence will not be carried out. The prison doctors will make a case stating Captain Stormblessed is not in his right mind; he will be stripped of his rank and given over to the care of the ardents, but I will have been seen to take the matter seriously.”

“You want to imprison him as a lunatic.” Adolin said flatly.

“Yes. It solves everything, you see- his accusation towards Amaram and this…escapade- it’s a pity you acted as you did , but then perhaps you were concerned for the Captain’s mental well being and decided to assess it for yourself-“

“You can’t,” Adolin said. “It will destroy him.”

“He’ll be alive, won’t he? Uncle, what do you think?”

Dalinar stared at his nephew. It was clever. Horrifically so, but it would work. It would sweep the issue with Amaram under the carpet straight away- “The poor boy’s not right in the head. He didn’t know what he was saying.” It would account for the sleepwalking, the escape- it would allow Dalinar to replace Kaladin quietly without antagonising Bridge Four, as Dalinar had been agonising over how to do after it had begun to be increasingly clear Adolin’s protest had necessitated such measures if Elhokar was not to be ruined by them. 

“I want to speak to the surgeons and see what they can tell me about Captain Kaladin’s mental and physical state,” he said quietly. “It may be there is a problem there, in which case perhaps that course of action is for the best.”

“Amaram will get away with murder.” Adolin spoke through clenched teeth. “You’re gonna let him walk away from it.”

“Walk away from what?” Elhokar demanded. “It’s all nonsense-“

“It may not be.” Navani said quietly. Everyone looked at her. “I was doing some research on Stormblessed’s history. As a precaution, after you went and appointed a complete unknown as the head of your honour guard.” She shot an exasperated look at Dalinar before continuing. “Amaram only won his shardblade four months ago, yes? Six months after Stormblessed was enslaved?”

Dalinar nodded sharply.

“The last battle Kaladin was in with Amaram’s army, a shard bearer attacked. You remember the fuss Sadeas made, accusing Aladar of hiding shards? Apparently, every soldier on the battlefield fled, and so did the Shardbearer after Amaram’s honourguard disposed of a squad of soldiers in Amaram’s colours who had been helping the shardbearer. Six months later, the shardbearer attacked again, this time in the middle of the night, and Amaram got in a lucky blow.”

“We know all this, mother.” Elhokar said impatiently. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that the squadleader whose men supposedly helped the shardbearer fled and was captured. Amaram named him a coward and branded him as a slave for desertion.”

Adolin hissed. “Bastard. He took a little bit of the truth and twisted it to suit himself…”

“It proves nothing.” Elhokar said. “And even if it did- uncle, Amaram could help us bring Sadeas in line, or he could make everything ten times worse. We cannot afford to lose his friendship persuing this.”

“So you’re going to claim Kal is mad and lock him up instead?” Adolin spat.

“It’s an option that’s worth considering.”

“You’d better coinsider it and then discard it.”

“Or what?” Elhokar asked. “You’ll lock yourself up with him? Good, that would take care of the mess your little pretest has made for us.”

Adolin’s fists clenched. Dalinar sighed internally.

“Elhokar, my son is tired and worried about a comrade. Adolin, the situation must be managed somehow and simply letting Kaladin off the hook will not-“

“He doesn’t need to be let off the hook because he didn’t do anything wrong!” Adolin cried. “He was sleepwalking, just say that for the Almighty’s sake. Just because-“

“Adolin dear,” Navani said. “Go to your chambers, bathe, rest. We can discuss all this in the morning, when we’re all better for a few hours sleep and we have some more information from the doctors.”

“Lock Kaladin up again and I’ll defect.” Adolin warned.

Elhokar laughed. “Defect where?”

Adolin snarled, and stalked out the room, leaving Dalinar with a thousand different thoughts and worries exacerbated by the fear that his son and his nephew were about to embark on some sort of feud.

Chapter Text

Adolin stalked out of the king’s sitting room, furious with himself. He had thought, in coming to explain the situation with Kaladin to his father and Elhokar himself immediately after making sure Kal was safe in the prison’s sick bay, he could reassure them that Kal didn’t mean any harm. Now, he realised, if he had taken the time to think about it, he’d have been better off waiting. Telling the guards not to speak of the matter outside the prison, then coming to tell father in the morning with the problem already hushed up. Instead, he had made a massive deal out of it. Now, Elhokar was doing the same. Storming man, Adolin thought viciously. To have come up with that sort of a plan that quickly was suspicious, to say the least. And now, Adolin wondered if that hadn’t been Elhokar’s intention all along.

Claim Kal was insane. Shut away the unfortunate, dark eyed problem.

Worse, Adolin had seen temptation in his father’s eyes. It would make life easier for Dalinar, who had been hard pressed to defend his decision to appoint a dark eyed captain to his surviving lighteyed officers before the duel, let alone after it. Adolin’s stomach clenched in anger as he remembered the conversation he had overheard in the sparring grounds, between men he had considered his friends.

“If I were the highprince, I’d have him stripped of his rank and flogged in public. Darkeyes can’t lead anyway, and that one needs to learn his place.”

His place. Kaladin had seen his place as being in a duelling arena, unarmoured and terribly ill-equipped to deal with four enemy shard bearers.  Alright, so he had had stormlight. But Adolin suspected that a part of Kaladin would have rather suffered paralysis than reveal his abilities in public. The trouble was, Adolin thought, that if Kaladin didn’t want to spend the next Almighty-knew-how-long in a darkened cell with only the ardents for company, he might have to reaveal his secret. To Dalinar, at least. If Adolin could persuade Kaladin to tell father about his powers, explain that his “escape” he happened because of them…

“Brigtlord Adolin!” Adolin was pulled out of his reverie by the shout, and he blinked to see Skar hurrying towards him.

“Skar.”

“Brightlord!” why was the man grinning so much? “You’re free then. Does that mean-?”

Oh. Ah. Adolin grimaced. “No. Not exactly.”

The darkeyed man’s smile faltered. “Oh. But then-“

“Kaladin dreamt in the highstorm last night. It caused him to escape and he stabbed a guard who tried to restrain him  whilst he was sleepwalking. They took Kal to the sick bay and father and the king are debating what should happen next.” Adolin spoke low and fast, and Skar’s eyes widened, then narrowed.

“He dreamt in the highstorm, brightlord?” There was suspicion in his voice, and Adolin could see him trying to work out if Adolin meant to imply what he just had.

“Syl told me it had happened before.” Adolin added.

Skar’s eyes lit up. “You know? Is he going to tell Kholin- I mean-“ the man coughed. “Begging your pardon, brightlord, I meant Highprince Dalinar of course-“

“He needs to if he’s going to come out of this well,” Adolin said.  The seeds of an idea were blossoming in his mind. “How difficult do you think it would be to persuade him to tell my father?”

Skar hesitated. “Well, if he’s not already considering it…I don’t know. Teft tried. I think the Captain’s just scared someone will take it away from him. His powers, I mean.” His expression was worried. “Is Kal in trouble, brightlord? Because we’ve got about ten different plans for breaking him out and spiriting him away if needs be-“

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Adolin said hastily, before the man could say anything that could potentially get him in to trouble.

Skar half shrugged. “If you need us to do anything, just say. We’re all getting a bit restless.” His voice dropped. “His majesty ain’t too popular at the moment, neither is your father. It shouldn’t…I mean…we’ll still do our jobs. But if  there’s some way the situation might become worse, and we can prevent it..”

Adolin nodded. “I understand. Thanks for the warning.”

Skar nodded. “So where were you going?” he said, resuming his cheerful tone. “Now you’re free again, I may as well guard you- I was going to see if Mart and Eth were prepared to cover for Moash tonight, but since he won’t tell us where he wants to go I’m not that inclined to help him skive.”

Adolin grinned despite himself. “Now that’s hardly good comradeship, not helping a friend to slip out and see a girl.”

“Yeah, but it might not be a girl.” Skar countered. “It could be a guy. But if he’s not telling us, it might also be a group of bastards blackmailing him in to helping ‘em do something he doesn’t want to. And it would hardly be good comradeship to let him go to that meeting, would it.”

“I suppose not.” Adolin blinked rapidly as Skar’s words registered It might be a guy…Adolin had heard people say that the darkeyes were more accepting of that sort of thing (“darkeyes are sexually amoral, that’s one of the reasons why the Almighty chose us to rule” was how it normally went), but to suggest such a thing openly, without meaning offence … Adolin was reminded of the frission of attraction he had felt when Kaladin had seemed so relaxed a few weeks ago. It hadn’t reoccurred- well, maybe once or twice-

“I want to go back down to the hospital,” Adolin found himself saying. “And check on Kaladin. Then- I don’t know. I should probably call on Shallan, she’s probably mad at me.” He felt a flush of guilt. He had had a spanreed conversation with her one evening, when Kaladin had fallen asleep, and she had seemed distracted. Apparently, highprince Sebariel’s ledgers had been bad, so she couldn’t come and visit. Did that mean she wanted to end the relationship? Maybe. Then again, maybe Sebarial’s ledgers really were bad. Storms, Adolin didn’t know a thing about relationships.

“Do you think I should get her a present?” he asked. “Shallan?”

“Probably,” Skar said. “Women seem to like that sort of thing. As long as it doesn’t look too much like you’re trying to buy her affections.”

“I could get her a sketchbook,” Adolin mused. “She seems to like drawing- or I could get her- storms, what are they called? My mother used to have them, they were coloured and- ooh! Pastels. I could buy her pastels…”

“If you say so,” Skar said. “Although  that sounds more like something you’d eat then something you’d draw with.”

Adolin snorted with laughter. “Yeah, they do. I don’t know. Maybe I’d just be better off taking her shopping. Or I could just stick with that sketchbook. Kal first though.”

“Maybe we should take him a present.” Skar said. “We’ve got a proper party planned for when he gets out of prison. Teft reckons he’s gonna hate it.”

Chapter Text

“Come now, captain. You’re skinny enough as it is for all that great height of yours, you’ll fade away if you don’t eat.” Reya held a spoonful of gruel up to the young man’s lips and watched resolve solidify then waver again in his dark eyes as he pressed his lips together. Reya sighed internally. She had been a nurse for nearly thirty years- since she’d married one surgeon, lost him to plague and married another- who would be dead on the battlefield if not for the young man in front of her. Strange; despite her advancing years she had constructed an almost girlish fantasy of what the Hero of the Tower might be like. A frightened youth who had spent the night vomiting over her floors with guilt, choking up the scant contents of his stomach whilst Reya’s husband took one look at him and diagnosed an excess of fatigue and stress leading to nightmares and sleepwalking hadn’t been a part of it.

“One mouthful,” she coaxed, wondering how much of it was not wanting to eat generally and humiliation at having to be spoon fed like a child whilst his hands were tied.

“I’m not hungry,” he whispered.

“Do as you’re told.”

Reya shot up from her chair and whirled around at the light, scolding tone, sinking in to a curtsey as she found Highlady Navani lingering in the doorway. Captain Stormblessed’s eyes widened in surprise. “Brightness-“

“Highprince Dalinar is talking to the surgeon. Whilst he’s distracted, I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.” Highlady Navani continued. “Reya…is it?”

“Yes, brightness.” Reya said.

“Give that to me.” The Highlady held out her safe hand for the bowl. It was a clear dismissal, and Reya hastily bobbed another curtsey, handing the breakfast over as she left the room and shut the door behind her.

Kaladin found himself frozen in shock as the King’s mother took the recently vacated chair and scooped a spoonful of gruel on to the spoon, then held it out to him. “Eat,” she commanded. Kaladin obediently opened his mouth and took the bite. She held out another spoonful. Syl flew right up to the Highlady’s face, peering in to her violet eyes, before shifting form, creating a mirror image of the queen. “Pretty,” she said, with an air of satisfaction. Kaladin swallowed with difficulty, his empty stomach rebelling at the thought of being invaded. He longed for stormlight, but he couldn’t, not here, not now—

“My daughter,” Navani said suddenly, “Doesn’t- didn’t-“ the mask cracked slightly, and Kaladin felt a rush of sympathy for the woman as she took a deep breath and regathered her composure. “Brightness Jasnah didn’t like Highmarshel Amaram,” the lady said. “I don’t know why, but she didn’t- Jasnah never bothered to hide her disdain.” She fed Kal another spoonful. “My daughter was never wrong,” Brightness Navani continued. “At least- I have never known her to be. Highprince Dalinar, on  the other hand, trusts easily. That may apply to Amaram; I am determined to look in to the matter. However, Dalinar’s trust being misplaced may also apply to you.”

She set the bowl to one side. “Why did you save the Highprince at the Tower? Why would a group of slaves risk everything for a highprince who wasn’t there own. What did you hope to gain?”

“Nothing, brightness.” Kaladin said.

“Don’t lie to me. Everything has a reason; life is a series of patterns, of cause and effects. I will know your reasons or I will deem you a threat and I will help destroy you completely; I have lost my daughter I will not lose one other person I love, do you understand me?”

Kaladin bowed his head, heart racing. He had never given much thought to Queen Navani, apart from as Dalinar’s sister-lover and therefore a potential target, but this…

This was a woman who glanced at a highstorm and expected it to part for her. There was danger in her, carefully concealed most of the time, but now….

“I didn’t care about the Highprince, Brightness,” he said quietly. “I cared about the dark-eyed men facing death because a commanding officer betrayed them, because it reminded me of what happened to my own men. I expected to gain nothing but death, for myself and my men, but I preferred that to living, knowing I did nothing to help thousands of others do the same. When we survived, I expected to be handed back over to Sadeas.” He glanced back up to see the Highlady’s reaction. Her gaze had softened somewhat.

“And now? Why did you stay?” she asked.

Kaladin hesitated. “I like keeping people safe. This…seemed the best way to keep my men safe- I would have the resources to train them, to teach them how to function as a unit, and then…I suppose my protectiveness just extended itself to –“

People he didn’t think he would care about. Lighteyes…protectiveness…extending even to people he didn’t like, it was…

No, no no no no  no, not here, not now-

Kaladin recognised the feeling building up in him, like he was on the edge of something, but he couldn’t

“I protect people who need it,” he’d told Adolin. That included the King- he had made that decision weeks ago, really- but…that meant…

“The words,” Syl said, sounding elated, looking elated-

No Kaladin thought at her desperately. Syl, please, stop this, it’s really not a good time-

“Captain? You’re protectivness extended itself to...?

“Even those I hate,” Kaladin, spoke through numb lips, the words slipping out involuntarily, “So long as it is right.”

Chapter Text

Sylphrena whooped with joy as her radiant finally, finally reached for the words he had come so close to that day in the menagerie. The joy faded somewhat when she felt a jolt of pure terror- not hers, Kaladin’s. Not here, not now-

Oh right, Navani. Well that couldn’t be helped now, and in some way it was only fair that the king’s mother got to admire her handiwork in making Kaladin really think about why he liked protecting people so much. Humans. They could be stupidly slow, sometimes-

Navani sprang backwards, chair crashing over in shock as Kaladin’s eyes flared a brilliant blue, and light streamed from his skin. Not much. Kaladin wasn’t injured, which Syl was actually quite thankful for. Honestly, people. They went around as if they were invincible, then broke something if they walked in to a feather.

The crash had obviously drawn attention- feet were running. Then- Adolin was at the door, parcel tucked under his arm as he gazed, awestruck, in to the room. “Storms,” he breathed.

He was knocked aside by his father, who ran in to the room just as the light faded and ran to Navani. “Are you alright?”

“Almighty above,” Navani whispered, safe hand to breath. She hadn’t torn her gaze from Kaladin, and as Dalinar followed the direction of her stare, he froze.

Syl could feel Kaladin’s heartbeat as if it were her own; it sped up, pounding. A million thoughts ran through his mind and were discarded before he even knew he had had them, so many fears, worries- bad memories of what had happened the other times he’d done something seemingly remarkable, and Syl shivered. Her poor boy. Swooping down to him, she landed on his knee and then-

She showed herself.

Syl didn’t know how she did it, exactly- sometimes she found it almost impossible, other times, it was easy. Today, it was easy- she reckoned that had something to do with the amount of honour in the room, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Hello again, Adolin.” She smiled at the prince. Kal didn’t know, but she was quite adept at politics. In Shadesmere, she was – well, not a queen. Honour didn’t care so much for rank or status, but- a leader. Or, at any rate, she’d been good at talking Cryptics in to squidgy fractal knots. Regardless, basic common sense told her Dalinar was less likely to stab Kaladin for something Adolin was also involved in. So, she smiled at the prince.

“Hello, Syl” Adolin grinned back. “Morning, Kal,” he added.

“What,” Dalinar said slowly, “Is going on?”

“Kal’s a knight radiant,” Adolin said cheerfully, before Syl could speak. “Also, he seems to be a lighteyes now, so...you’re not going to lock him up?”

Syl frowned slightly. She got the sense that Adolin wasn’t referring to taking Kaladin back to the cells, but something else- what had happened?

Dalinar was staring at Kaladin.

“A radiant?” he said, finally.

“Yes, sir,” Kaladin whispered.

“And you didn’t see fit to tell me this?”

Kaladin finally met Dalinar’s gaze. “ I wasn’t entirely sure I could trust you with this, sir. Initially, I had to know whether or not your offer of a shardblade for the bridgmen was made out of honour or an attempt to manouver Sadeas in some way I couldn’t understand. I realise now, of course, that it was an entirely genuine move. By the time I’d made that desicion, however, Amaram had arrived.”

Syl had to admire Kaladin’s courage in saying that to Dalianr. She wondered if he knew his desire to please the older man was rooted in the need he used to have as a child- still had now, at the back of his mind- to make his father- both parents- proud of him. Probably not. He tried not to think about his parents-

“...with the king.” Dalinar was speaking, Syl suddenly realised, whilst she’d been lost in thought. “We will have to decide whether we go public with this-“

“Bad idea,” Adolin interrupted.

Dalinar turned to look at him. “And why is that? Do you know something I don’t?” There was a hint of both irony and reproach in his voice, and Adolin wilted slightly.

“Sadeas might demand him back?” he asked “ Because...um...he’d find a loophole, or something. Also assassins,” he added more confidently. “Kal can be our secret weapon.”

“That would certainly appeal to Elhokar,” Navani interjected.

Dalinar looked thoughtful. “Very well. Captain, what do you say?”

“I don’t want people to know,” Kaladin said immeadeatley. Syl banged her head against a brick wall. A metaphorical one, obviously- a real one would’t have any impact on her. “I don’t...if I could have more time to train-“

“You’ll need to learn how to use a shardblade!” Syl interjected, suddenly realising she knew something that she hadn’t before. “You get one of those now.”

Everyone stared at her.

“You know how shardblades are made?” Navani asked, looking fascinated.

“They’re not, there me.” Syl said. “Spren are the shardblades...oh...” she trailed off, realising exactly why she hated the blades so much. It was like- it was like what Kaladin had done with the parshendi corpses, only worse, far worse- they had died in battle whilst the spren...

Too much to contemplate. Far, far too much to contemplate right now. She dissolved in to a ribbon of blue light and shot off, allowing herself to become the wind.

Chapter Text

Shallan drummed her fingers on the table, staring at the empty seat on the other side of her table with her lips compressed in annoyance. The smirks the other brightladies were shooting in her direction didn’t help either; doubtless they’d worked out by now that the person she had supposed to be meeting in the café was her absent causal betrothed and figured she’d become the latest in a long line to be thrown  over by the prince.

It wasn’t true, she told herself. Adolin would be here. He’d arranged the meeting personally, riding over to Sebarial’s warcamp to personally hand her a present- new pastels, although he’d admitted he had no idea if they were good quality or not- then telling her that he couldn’t stay for long- something was happening- he’d explain later, could they meet in a couple of days time? He’d sounded- and looked- excited, like something marvellous was about to happen. Highprince Sebarial had spent the last two days trying to find out what, exactly, was going on. Apart from the fact the King’s palace had gone in to lockdown, the soulcasters had been summoned, and the Cobalt Guard/Bridge Four Honour Guard units had stepped up recruiting, he’d found nothing, and spent a good deal of time sulking about it  before coming to see Shallan and asking if she knew what was happening.

Which she didn’t.

And it was annoying her.

“Sorry, sorry!” Adolin arrived at last, flinging himself in to his seat. “A suggestion was made this morning, you seemed like the best person to carry it out, but I had to persuade Kal and –well, aunt Navani, but she’s coming around, I think-“

“I’m the best person to do what?” Shallan repeated, feeling her annoyance increase. She should be flattered- but if Adolin was going to go around volunteering for her for things without consulting her first-

Her annoyance must have shown on her face, because Adolin’s face fell a little. “You don’t have to. But we’re researching something, and Renarin says it’s similar to what Jasnah was looking in to, before she…well. Anyway, beats me how Renarin knows what Jasnah was looking in to- the thing-but then, they were quite close- any way, it doesn’t matter. But it would be helpful to have someone who knows what Jasnah had already unearthed on board.”

“When you say, Jasnah’s research,” Shallan said softly, leaning forward. “Do you mean her theory that the parshendi are voidbringers?”

Adolin leant in as well. “That’s part of it,” he said. “But Renarin says Jasnah was looking in to the Radiants as well- that’s what we’re really interested in.”

Shallan felt a chill run down her spine. How could Adolin’s younger brother possible have known that? Had Jasnah honestly told him? If not-

“Why are you interested in it?” she asked softly. “I thought the knights had been refounded with Amaram, surely the research has already been done.”

“Not with a proper, actual radiant.” Adolin grinned, meeting her eyes.

Shallan froze.

“How did you find out?” She whispered. “Did Jasnah tell you-“

Adolin looked confused. “Did Jasnah tell us-“

“That she was- that I am a Radiant-“

“What?” now Adolin looked really confused. “You are- Jasnah was-I was talking about Captain Kaladin-“

“Oh,” Shallan blushed. Idiot! She scolded herself. Veil would be having harsh words with her later. “That’s-Captain Kaladin is a radiant?”

“Yeah. Windrunner. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come and help with training- tests and such- I suppose I should change that to do you want to come and train with him. What are you, anyway? Wait, is the cryptic yours?”

Shallan took a breath to steady herself. “Yes, Pattern’s mine.”

“So you saved my brother,” Adolin noted, “in the arena. Thanks for that.”

“Well it was my plan that went wrong. Of course, it would have sorted itself out if Bridgeboy hadn’t-“

Adolin held up a hand, wincing. “Don’t give him grief for that,” he said. “It’s done with- it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Shallan subsided.

“So, Elhokar had a whole other secret floor excavated under his palace for Kaladin to hide out in,” Adolin continued. “Shall we go tell the rest of my family that you’ll be needing an apartment there as well? We’re not planning on making it public,” he added. “No one’s going to know that the Radiants are back until the Radiants in question are ready for them to do so.”

“If I say no-“ Shallan began.

Adolin shrugged. “Our secret. I won’t tell anyone. I won’t even talk to you about it, if you don’t want  me to.”

There. Right there- Shallan looked at Adolin, and she knew without a doubt, he would keep his word. Giver he security- not try to push her, or pull her-

What should she do? What would Jasnah and Tyn do?

That was easy. Jasnah would take any resource she had available to her in order to achieve a goal, and Tyn would do the same- although she’d probably steal the resources. It seemed foolish to struggle on by herself, experimenting with her surges in a trial-and-error sort of way, when she could have help, guidance. And it would offer a way in to House Kholin, letting her work towards discovering Urithiru, perhaps…

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s do it. I’ll train with the bridgeman.”

Adolin grinned. “Right then, let’s go.”

He leapt to his feet.

“You don’t want to stay for wine first?” Shallan enquired. “Or to whine, perhaps- you have spent the last few weeks in the company of one of the grumpiest men on the planet.”

“Kaladin’s not that bad.” Adolin insisted. “Once you get to know him- and I think he has a point about how lighteyes treat darkeyes, even if only accidently. And the last three days- you’ve never seem someone shake as much as he did when he had to explain to father and the king about his powers, how long he’d had them, what he knew he could do. But afterwards, when that was out of the way and we were planning-He was- well, I don’t know how to explain it. It was like…he didn’t have to hide anything, he didn’t have to worry about the fact he was speaking to a superior anymore, so he was completely open- confident, charismatic-“

“You sound like you’re developing a crush on him,” Shallan teased.

She was startled when Adolin hesitated, blushing slightly.

“Would you mind if I was?” he asked.

Was he joking? Teasing her? Or was he completely serious? She’d heard it used to be common, in the days before the hierarchy, for soldiers to have both a wife and a fellow soldier they were…intimate with. Did that still happen? Would she mind? “As long as you’ve still got a crush on me,” she said eventually. “I suppose I have no objection.”

Adolin smiled in relief. He had no idea where that question had come from- but as long as Shallan wasn’t about to dump him, it didn’t matter. “Of course I still have a crush on you,” he said easily. “I can divide my crushing- of course, it may be limited to the times when I have my Shardplate on.”

Shallan cocked her head, then laughed, whacking at him. “Your jokes are awful,” she scolded.

“I’ve been trying to imitate you!” Adolin protested. “You know, word play...gah. You just don’t have any taste.”

“That explains why she’s sticking around you.”

Adolin stiffened, but bowed as Highlady Ialai came up to the table he and Shallan were about to vacate, smiling. Shallan curtsied.

“Forgive me, Highlady,” she spoke, her tone oddly light and girlish. “But I would posit that Prince Adolin mistakes the proficiency of my taste, and therefore underestimates his own self value- although it Is difficult to see how anyone could be so blind as to doubt that, considering his success in the duelling arena these past few weeks.”

Ialai sniffed. “I see Jasnah did not manage to instil a proper sense of how to speak eloquently within you before she died.”

“On the contrary, I speak exactly as she would have done if she were here now, Highlady; Princess Jasnah had the greatest confidence in her cousin as she did in all her family, and she was never wrong in her beliefs.”

“Except for in the heresy which has surely now condemned her to the fires of damnation and, alas, will therefore prevent me from congratulating her on finding such a vivacious ward after her mistake with Kaliah ,” Ialai said softly, eyes glittering as if she’d just caught Shallan in a marvellous trap. Which she had, Adolin realised, panicking as Ialai said “Or do you also not believe in the almighty, and think that Jasnah was right in her blasphemy, as well as everything else?”

“Jasnah never denied the existence of the Almighty, in the sense that He is a transcendent being, Brightness, she simply didn’t believe that any particular worship was due to such a being any more than worship was due to the spren who are, after all, also transcendent beings according to some schools of thought, vorin or otherwise. Those who did not have the privilege to know her well will not understand the significance, perhaps, of that difference, but I assure you, brightness, any belief Jasnah held was arrived at after a thorough examination that it could not be demonstrably proved mistaken. Unlike yourself, as you are apparently naïve enough to think that if Jasnah is in hell for heresy, you will not also be consigned there for treason and betrayal against your king!”

The café had fallen silent, watching the tirade. Ialai looked stunned; Shallan was trembling, angerspren pooling at her feet. Adolin laid a tentative arm around her shoulder. “You will excuse us, Brightness.” He said firmly. “We’re late for a conversation with the king.” He bowed his head, then led Shallan outside, away from the stairs.

“How dare she?” Shallan whispered, fury lacing her tone. “How dare she suggest that Jasnah is in damnation because of- how dare she?”

“Alright,” Adolin soother. “I know.”

“How dare she!?”

“It’s alright,” Adolin said again. “She was trying to upset you. Because she’s jealous of you.

“Jealous?” Shallan asked, sounding confused.

“Yeah,” Adolin grinned. “You’re going to get to marry the most handsome man in all Roshar and she’s stuck with an ugly eel like Sadeas.”

Shallan laughed, a genuine, open laugh that warmed Adolin from the inside out.

“You know why Relis and the others were so determined to kill me in the arena?” he said.

Shallan was smiling now, anger spren faded. “Why?” she asked.

“Jealousy. I’m the most handsome man in all of Roshar, and the most beautiful woman in all of Roshar is going to marry me, as well as the wittiest, the most clever-“

“How many woman are you planning on marrying?”Shallan asked. “And what are their names, so I know who to have assassinated?”

Adolin shook his head emphatically. “No woman,” he said. “my future wife is so Radiant she is a veritable goddess!”

“I bet you say that to all the ladies,” Shallan teased.

“Ah, but it’s only strictly true for you.” Shallan. The Radiant. Adolin shook his head. It explained why Jasnah had proposed the match- and how thankful Adolin was to his cousin for that!- but first Kal, then Shallan? Jasnah as well…that couldn’t be a coincidence. Was something deliberately drawing the Radiants together? Why?

Because a desolation is coming.

Kaladin had spoken about the Highstorm dream that led to him breaking out of prison- parshendi, changing in to voidbringers. Something out of the history books, out of nightmares. Adolin would be lying if he didn’t say he was feeling just that little bit frightened of what was to come.

###

“You see how much easier life would have been if you’d told Dalinar in the first place?” Teft grumbled. “An entire training facility soulcast beneath the storming palace itself in less than a hundred hours so you can stick people to the wall someplace they get to fall on mats ratherthan corpses decomposing in the cavern.”

The lad ignored him, instead pivoting on the spot, eyes scanning the large, cavernous room with a look that Teft had come to recognise as the one that tended to get them all in to trouble. Or out of it, he conceded.

“Have you decided who you want with you?” Teft prodded. Highprince Dalinar and the King had agreed that it would be best if Kaladin chose a couple of men who could familiarise themselves fighting both with and against a Windrunner.

“DO you think the men will mind me handpicking?” Kal asked, turning back to Teft looking worried.

Teft snorted. “Storms, no. Just get on with it.”

“You,” Kaladin said immediately. “Sigel, Skar – I’m taking the best honour guards from the King and Brightlord Dalinar, I know but the gaps will be filled-….Lopen …Shen.”

Teft spluttered. “Lopen, I can understand. He’s been helping already. But Shen? Kal, given that dream of yours…”

“Shen might know something about the Radiants,” Kaladin pointed out. “And I- Teft, I know you don’t like it, but he’s Bridge Four and I think- I think I trust him. And if you don’t- well. Keep an eye on him and he’ll be close enough that you can stab if you have to.”

“What about Moash?” Teft asked, not at all surprised when Kaladin winced.

“I don’t know if I trust Moash right now,” he said

“Because he’s trying to kill the king?” Teft asked.

Kaladin froze. “How-“

“He sneaked off when you were in prison, I followed him in case he decided to do something stupid like trying to break you out,” Teft told him. “Overheard him and the other fellows- I’d have ignored it- I was pretty hacked off with his highness myself- but then I heard him telling his mates that you’d come round eventually, it was just a matter of persistence. And I thought to myself- if you already know, then you’ve probably told him to stop, and he’s probably ignoring you, and you’re probably ignoring it in the hopes that it’ll go away and you don’t have to get one of our own executed for treason. And that’s going to get Bridge Four in a nice right mess, so I went to Highprince Dalinar and told him I’d overheard some fellows in a tavern saying things they shouldn’t have been saying and I gave them the description of anyone who was there and not  Moash shaped. Then I sent Moash out on patrol, and got a couple of the old Cobalt Guard chaps to tail the other fellows.”

Kaladin exhaled. “Thank you. I should have done that myself weeks ago, I was planning on, but-“

“Moash is your friend,” Teft said quietly. “And believe me, I understand why you’re close with him- no hero worship. But lad- all of Bridge Four are there for you if you need ‘em, and they don’t think you’re half as mystical as they pretend they do when you’re around. Believe you me- if you had any idea how many times I’ve walked in on them drawing up plans to get you to lose your virginity-“ he shook his head.

“Let me guess.” Kaladin rolled his eyes. “Pay a prostitute to seduce me was mentioned at least twice.”

“Get you drunk enough to go to bed with Drehy was also mentioned.” Teft informed him. “You’ll be pleased to know Drehy refused to cooperate with that one on the grounds that you wouldn’t have consented properly.”

Kaladin smiled. “They think I’d  swing that way, do they?”

“You’re obliviousness to Brightness Davar’s figure confirmed it for them.” Teft said drily. “Of course, you don’t seem to pay much attention to the myriad of shirtless men who find ways to surround you at least once a week.” He paused, waiting. Kaladin raised his eyebrows, then rolled his eyes.

“Since it appears to be a topic of such interest, almighty only knows why: I only seem to feel attraction towards someone I’ve already become close with. After that, it doesn’t matter if they’re a man or a woman.”

Teft shrugged. “Fair enough. I’ll tell the men prostitutes won’t work, then, shall I?”

“This sounds like an interesting conversation.”

Teft jumped at the sound of Brightness Davar’s voice, then turned with Kaladin to look at the doorway. The veden woman strode in, followed by Prince Adolin, Teft noted briefly, but his attention was too fixed on the faint wisps of light curling from Shallan’s skin to pay the prince much attention.

“Does Dalinar know about this?” Kaladin asked softly.

Shallan grinned. “Just told him. Since a fashion seems to be starting, I figured I may as well jump on the bandwagon.”

“The cryptic is yours,” Kaladin said.

“The honourspren is yours.” Shallan remarked. “Adolin tells me you can fly. It seems remarkably unfair; you’re high enough already.”

“Is there any chance you’re about to discover an Ideal related to not making puns?” Kaladin asked.

“I solemnly swear to never not make puns, particularly when you are around.” Shallan said. “There- happy?”

Kaladin raised his eyes to the ceiling. “I assume you’re here to train?” he asked.

“Naturally.”

“Well then,” Kaladin said. “What do you already know how to do, what should you know how to do, and how do we figure out how you use it?”

Chapter Text

“So these ghostbloods killed my cousin and you...joined them?” Adolin frowned.

Shallan blushed. “Infiltrated. I was infiltrating them. I still don’t understand what they want, Jasnah seems to think they’re trying to profit from the end of the world, but...I don’t know.”

“She might have been wrong.” Kaladin said.

Adolin and Shallan both looked at him. “Jasnah was never wrong,” Adolin said flatly.

“Oh?” Kaladin raised his eyebrows. “So she was never given inaccurate information from someone she trusted enough to take them at their word? You know that for certain, do you?”

Shallan and Adolin shared disturbed glances. Kaladin had a point, but the thought of Jasnah being wrong felt like heresy. Shallan wondered briefly what Jasnah would have thought of the comparison?

“The other thing is, are you sure she’s dead?” Kaladin continued. “Stormlight heals, after all-“

Shallan shook her head. “There was no body. They must have tossed it overboard. Even if she could have healed herself, she’d have drowned under water-“

“Except Stormlight means you don’t have to breathe for at least half an hour, and that’s before the second ideal.” Kaladin argued. “Was Jasnah expecting an attack?”

“Well, yes,” Shallan conceded, “But she wouldn’t-“ she fell abruptly silent, biting her lip.

“Shall?” Adolin asked.

“She wouldn’t just leave.” Shallan said. “Without warning me it might happen, Jasnah wouldn’t do that.” She wouldn’t. If she had taken Shallan back after the theft of the soulcaster, she wouldn’t go on to just abandon her like that.  She saw doubt flicker across the Captain’s face and braced herself for an argument, summoning up several nasty things she could say to him if she wanted on the subject of abandonment- charges of desertion came to mind- but to her surprise, the man just shrugged.

“Alright. You say the ghostbloods have set up in Sebarial’s camp?”

“Yes.”

“Is the Highprince anything to do with them? We should find someone to keep an eye on him, if he is involved with the group who assassinated the king’s sister we may find we have bigger problems than Sadeas, at least he’s upfront about wanting to kill us all.”

“I doubt Sebarial is involved with anything suspicious,” Adolin snorted. “He tends not to get involved with anything like hard work as a rule.”

Shallan opened her mouth to mention his factories, but Kaladin beat her to it. “Apparently he’s managed to build himself a decent economy in his war camp. Factories, farming- people like him.” There was a slight twist to his mouth as if he couldn’t quite believe anyone would like their Highprince.

“How the storms do you know that?” Adolin asked.

Kaladin shrugged. “I was the head of the King’s honour guard, princeling, it seemed sensible to know how much of a threat each Highprince is. I spoke to Alaya-“

“Elhokar’s mistress?” Adolin asked.

“The head of his spy network,” Kaladin corrected. “She pretends to be his mistress so she has an excuse to go and see him at three in the morning when one of her agents sends her a spanreed communication to let her know that the main reason Aladar’s supporting Sadeas is because Sadeas is threatening to let everyone know Aladar uses his semi-illegal gambling games to facilitate an affair between Highprinces Vamah and Hatham ”

Adolin stared. “I don’t know this. How don’t I know this? Does father know this?!”

“I assumed so,” Kaladin said with a frown.

“Elhokar really is an idiot,” Adolin muttered. “There must have been counter-dirt on Sadeas we could have given Aladar- but why not blackmail Vamah and Hatham directly? Two highprinces instead of one-“

“Except Sadeas has all three of them because if Hatham or Vamah go to war with your father against Sadeas, they risk Aladar  being the one to let the whole world know about them. They don’t know Sadeas knows, so they’ll stay neutral and hope their sex lives get kept out of it“

“Hatham and Vamah,” Adolin shook his head. “Well it makes sense, I suppose. They’re both probably the most politically astute, they like intelligent conversation....yeah, I can see them kissing. But why would Aladar get involved?”

Kaladin shrugged.

“Maybe he likes to watch.” Shallan said.

Both men stared at her, Adolin blushing scarlet and Kaladin just...staring, like he couldn’t believe anyone would suggest something like that.

“What?” she said, defensively. “Some people like that. Apparently.”

“Can we change the subject?” Adolin said. “That’s...they’re father’s age. Highprince Hatham gave Renarin horse riding lessons ! He was the only Highprince with a Ryshidium for ages,” he added, by way of explanation. “Father didn’t want to risk Renarin’s health...if a horse took it in to their heads to bolt. So Hatham offered to teach Renarin on Windwhisper ‘cause ryshidiums are nicer-“

Kaladin snorted. “Horses are incapable of being nice.”

###

Moash stomped back in to Bridge Four’s garrison and was met with grins.

“You’ll never guess!” Skar said. “He told! He told Dalinar!”

“They’ve set up training under the palace!” Lopen added. “Kaladin’s spent the last three days there with Prince Adolin-“

“He’s out of prison?” Moash asked.

“Sure.” Lopen said.

“How is he?” Moash asked, a brief, horrible image of Kaladin ill, over tired, too thin-

“Positively glowing,” Skar smiled. “He’s happier than we’ve ever seen him.”

“And where is he now?”  Moash asked, looking towards the barracks, half expecting the bridge-leader to emerge.

Skar shrugged. “Don’t know. He might have gone for dinner with Adolin, or he might be back in a bit. We’ll see.”

“So he’s with the lighteyes, and you have no idea when he’ll back?” Moash snapped.

Skar laughed. “Mate, what exactly do you think they’re gonna do? Kal has a shardblade now, he could kill the king and Highprince Dalinar in seconds if he wanted to-“

“A shardblade?” Moash repeated. The cogs of his mind were turning.

“Yeah,” Skar said. “Something to do with the third ideal-“

“A shardblade,” Moash repeated. He could kill the king in seconds if he wanted....

###      

It wasn’t until Rlain heard the rhythm of greeting  that he recognised Lania. His vibrant, energetic sister was completely unsuited to dull form.

“Alethi uniform?” She asked.

“I met...a very unusual human.” Rlain admitted.

“This unusual human. Is he close to Dalinar Kholin? Can he give him a message?”

Rlain frowned. “What message? What’s wrong?” Lania was attuned to the Rhythm of worry now, and he   found himself responding in kind.

“Something is wrong with Eshoni,” Lania whispered. “Her eyes...it’s like from the story...” 

“Voidbringers?” Rlain asked, feeling hollow.

“Yes,” Lania whispered. “How...”

“The man...he is nasuada kadal.”  Rlain admitted. Lania hissed.

“How! How far...no, but this is good.” She smiled suddenly. “This man trusts you?”

Rlain didn’t like the sound of this. “Why?”

“The excuse for this new form is that the Radiants are returning. But there is only the one. Kholin’s, yes?” Lania glanced at the uniform Rlain wore. “So bring him to us,” she said, attuning to the rhythm of pleading. “Bring him to us, and we can destroy him. Then everything can go back to normal.”

“Lania-“

“You haven’t seen it,” she said. “You haven’t been there, Rlain. We need this. We need this.”

Rlain found himself nodding.

Chapter Text

A discussion of how to measure stormlight was interrupted by Shallan’s stomach growling loudly. “Oops,” she said. “Sorry. Guess its dinner time.”

“You want to go eat out somewhere?” Adolin asked. “I can’t be bothered with the feast.”

“Won’t your father mind?”

“I think he’s hoping I’ll keep as low a profile as possible actually, “Adolin said, rolling to his feet and grabbing his jacket. “There’s a new Herdaziian place in the market.”

“Sounds good.” Shallan said, gathering her notes from the floor.

“Kal? You coming?”

Kaladin shook his head. “I’ll go back to the barracks. I’m expecting some of the men back from patrol.”

He didn’t sound particularly happy. Adolin frowned. Kaladin seemed to be slipping back  in to gloom now the initial burst of energy following his revelation had subsided.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

Kaladin shrugged. “Sure. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Behind him, Adolin heard Shallan snort slightly and winced internally as Kaladin’s jaw tightened slightly.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.

“Sure.” Adolin said.

“Brightness Davar.” Kaladin bowed slightly in Shallan’s direction, a jerk of the head and grimness of tone that somehow made the honorific seem like an insult. He disappeared through the door without another word.

“So, new Shin place, huh?” Shallan asked as Adolin offered her his arm. She took it delicately, but pressed in close against his side. Adolin felt a thrill run through him at the close contact. She smelt of delicate perfume, a stark contrast to the faint smell of oil and polish and leather that Kaladin smelt like. When he wasn’t in prison stinking of sweat and general uncleanliness. Adolin shuddered at the memory, not least because he knew he had smelt just as bad.

“I can see why you’re crushing on Captain Tall, Dark and Gloomy,” she continued. “There’s something quite intriguing about his serious, haunted demeanour when you’ve decided not to let it irritate you. He’s very handsome,” she continued. “When you’re looking for it. Cheekbones, jawline…”

“Height,” Adolin agreed.

Shallan stopped and looked at him pointedly.

“You and him have a nice contrast,” Adolin said hastily. “He’s tall,  you’re…less so. He’s all angles, you- I’m going to shut up before I get myself in to trouble,” he finished. “but I- Shallan, when I said earlier, about crushing on both of you…I mean it. I genuinely think I might be in love with both of you at the same time.”

Shallan continued to stare, and Adolin felt himself growing red in the face. “I didn’t mean- that is-“ Great. Another relationship ruined.

“You’re in love with me?” Shallan asked quietly.

Adolin felt himself spiral in to an even bigger panic. “I don’t know,” he said, babbling, “I mean, I don’t really know what love feels like and I haven’t really known you that long, but I know I think about you a lot and I know I feel better about this relationship than I ever have before and I think you’re wonderful, brilliant, I enjoy you’re company and you make me laugh and I think I make you laugh and you obviously don’t  think I’m stupid or anything and I-mph!”

He found himself pulled down towards Shallan by her strong hands, her lips on his, their mouths moving together…Shallan’s tongue ran across his lips, her body pressed against his…Adolin wrapped his own arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet slightly. They relaxed apart, a lone passion spren floating down between them.

“Storms,” Adolin said. It came out as a croak.

“First kiss,” Shallan said.

“Mine to,” Adolin said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. We alethi…we don’t really tend to…uh…”

“Do this?” Shallan asked, kissing him again.

“Mmm…no…we really should, this is nice…”

Shallan grinned, then kissed him again, a peck on the nose this time. “Herdazian food,” she said. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

Her stomach rumbled again, as if to underline the point. Adolin chuckled. “Okay, whatever you say,” he said.

“We can discuss the finer points of Kaladin Stormblessed’s angles whilst we’re eating,” Shallan continued, and Adolin smiled.

“That’s fine by me.”

“I think he likes you to. The number of times I saw him glancing at you today…”

#

Kaladin walked to the barracks slowly. He’d been training, demonstrating, generally running off stormlight for the last hundred and fifty hours, and now it was gone- it needed to be gone to hide his eyes (and storms, how Kaladin hated that the light turned his eyes blue!) – he felt sluggish. Awkward.

Syl was weaving around him, still euphoric, as she had been since Kaladin has spoken the third ideal.

“So you’re going to tell Moash?” she asked, for the thousandth time. “You’re going to tell him he can’t kill the king?”

“Yes.” Kaladin said. And how he was not looking forward to that conversation. “Teft’s tails on Graves and his men are getting ready to move in on them, so I don’t need to tell Elhokar…” he trailed off. It was half a plea, and Syl seemed to understand, spinning more slowly.

“No. You don’t have to,” she said. “It would be good to be completely honest, but as you never actually agreed…”

“I get a pass on being good, just this once?” Kaladin asked.

“Just this once,” Syl agreed. “Since you’re being so nice and romantic with Adolin.”

“For someone so intelligent and articulate, you sure do insist on using that word incorrectly,” Kaladin grumbled.

 “You said romantic could be defined by the way Peet acted with Ka.” Syl said.

“No, I didn’t, I said-“

“You implied. And don’t interrupt, it’s rude” Syl sniffed. “Anyway, I made a list. Stealing secret glances when you think no one’s looking. You keep looking at Adolin under your lashes. Adolin keeps looking at you. It’s intriguing. It’s odd, though. A lot of the time your eyes seem to focus on his lips, whilst his stray towards your bum. Why is that?” Syl asked, cocking her head.

Kaladin felt heat flood to his face. “I’ve no idea. And you’re making it up.” Well, partially. Kaladin had noticed- very reluctantly- that Adolin was indeed very handsome, and he had a nice smile. But no way on Roshar was the princeling staring at him.

“Well, anyway. You relax around him. You speak more softly and less directly.”

Now that was blatantly untrue. “My voice hasn’t changed.”

“Not to you, perhaps. But…it’s hard to explain. We’re linked. I can sense…well, you’re just nicer when you’re interacting with Adolin. Not that you’re horrible with everyone else.” She added.

“Thanks,” Kaladin said drily.

“Shallan was staring at you to. Well, studying.” Syl zipped with annoyance. “The cryptic is boring. I tried to talk with him about stuff, and just…ugh. Boring.”

She vanished out of view as Kaladin stepped in to the barracks and in to the firelight of Bridge Four’s nightly stew-cooking. The men smiled and a few called out greetings when they saw him, but there was something…odd about the atmosphere. Tense.

Moash stood up, smiling oddly. “So you told Kholin.”

“Yeah.” Kaladin shifted slightly. “Sorry you had to miss all the action.”

“And you’re leaving us. To go and be Elhokar’s pet.”

There was silence. Kaladin stared. What was Moash talking about?

“I’m surprised you came back down to mingle with the rest of us mortals, Skar gave the impression that Adolin  Kholin now favours you so greatly he’ll even eat with you, or is that feed you scraps from his-“

“Shut up,” Kaladin said simply.

Moash stared at him. Kaladin could have been carved from stone for all he was moving and the firelight cast flickering, forboding shadows over Kaladin’s face.

“Do you have a problem?” Kaladin continued. “Please, explain it to me. I understand not being here the last couple of days whilst things have been changing- pretty rapidly- may be unsettling, but I do not appreciate your insinuations that the arrangements that have been made mean I’ve abandoned Bridge Four; I remain Head of the Honour Guard and will likely resume rotations before too long, just as soon as it’s clear what Highprince Dalinar and the King expect of me with regards to my other abilities.”

“When the hell did you get so cold?” Moash asked. “You sound like a lighteyes.”

“I sound like a commanding officer still waiting for a subordinate to explain his disrespect to me,” Kaladin said grimly.

“Disrespect? Since when did you care about disrespect-“

“Since he punched you in the gut and dragged you out of the barracks,” Skar snapped. “Leave over trying to suggest Kal ain’t a good leader anymore, Moash, storms- just because you’ve got to big for your boots with all the greenvines calling you sir-“

General agreement sprung up in a rumble, with Moash defending himself and the voices getting louder-

Kaladin could feel a headache starting up, this scene was to reminiscent of another, his fourth master, the seventh escape attempt…2hy should we do what he says, why don’t we just kill the master-!

“You alright lad?”

Kaladin found that Teft had grabbed his arm and he was leaning on the older man for support.

“You looked a little unsteady,” Teft continued.

“What happened whilst I was gone?” Kaladin asked quietly.

“Oh, Moash has got the hump because he’s not one of your squad,” Teft said. “I told him why, and I told him to stay away from that Graves chap- Dalinar’s moving in on them tonight, I assume he told you? Anyway, Moash is just being grumpy, and the others have very sensibly been ignoring him…it’ll blow over.”

Kaladin nodded. “I hope to God you’re right. I’m too tired to deal with this effectively right now…If I speak to him in the morning…”

“Go to bed,” Teft agreed, glancing over to the fire where Moash was now being pelted with bits of dumpling, much to the horror of Rock who was proclaiming every one of them to be an airsick lowlander incapable of appreciating good food. “They won’t mind.”

“I will deal with it in the morning,” Kaladin promised. Syl drifted down on to his shoulder, and Teft gave a reassuring smile.

Kaladin headed inside.

Chapter Text

 “Kal! Kal wake up!”

Kaladin’s eyes snapped open and he found himself peering in to Drehy’s frightened face.

“Kal-!”

“I’m awake.” Kaladin rolled out of bed, reaching for his uniform coat and pulling it on over crumpled shirt and trousers. “What’s going on?” He breathed stormlight in automatically.

“Dalinar’s men just moved in on the people Teft reckoned were behind the attempt on the king’s life, the balcony-Kal, Moash was there-Highprince Dalinar wants to see you-the bunker“

Kaladin was already running, sprinting as fast as he could towards the palace. It was still dark, although the sky was growing a little lighter- how long had Kaladin been asleep for? IT couldn’t have been more than a few hours.

Idiot, idiot! Kaladin cursed himself. He should have dealt with Moash last night, weeks ago- and Moash was an idiot as well, Teft had warned him-

Drehy was keeping up with him. That surprised Kaladin- he was infusing stormlight, he should have left the other man far behind- but he didn’t have time to worry about it-

Kaladin raced across the warcamp, arriving at Dalinar’s bunker in  a fraction of the time it would take any normal person, and found Teft pacing for him outside.

“He went to warn them,” the older man said grimly, the second he saw Kaladin.

“Does Dalinar know-“

“-that you knew? I don’t know.”

Kaladin nodded, steadying himself before squaring his shoulders and striding in to the bunker to find Dalinar.

Dalinar stood in front of the hearth, hands clasped behind his back as he stared in to the fire. The sound of the door made him turn round, and one look at Captain Kaladin’s dishevelled appearance told him everything he needed to know. The news of one of his men’s involvement in this hadn’t been a surprise.

Dalinar felt his insides clench with anger. What else had the boy not told him about?

“Shut the door.” Dalinar spoke through clenched teeth.  Kaladin shut the door and the saluted crisply. The gesture infuriated the Highprince- as if Kaladin acted as though Dalinar were his commanding officer.

“Did you know?”

Part of Dalinar wanted Kaladin to deny it, to at least put up a semblance of innocence-

“Yes, sir,” came the quiet response. “I had hoped it was something I could deal with myself; I thought I had managed to deal with it-“

“Come here,” Dalinar growled, pointing to a spot on the floor a few feet away from him. Kaladin hesitated, then approached with firm, even strides.

Dalinar studied the darkeyed man’s face.

Then he raised his hand and slapped him across the cheek. Hard. The resounding crack echoed through the room, and the force of the blow snapped Kaladin’s face to one side.

“You arrogant, selfish child,” Dalinar snarled. “You thought a group of traitors was something you were entitled to deal with yourself? Oh, but of course you did. The great Kaladin Stormblessed has no need to recourse to authority, he does as he chooses; he is a knight radiant, he is untouchable. Look at me!”

Kaladin raised his head back and met Dalinar’s gaze. His eyes were clear blue- he’d been using stormlight. It only served to remind Dalinar how angry he had been when he’d learnt Kaladin had been keeping that secret from him; had Dalinar not proven he was trustworthy when he had traded Oathbringer for the man’s life?

“Explain yourself,” Dalinar demanded. “Tell me what great injustice done to you meant you didn’t see fit to tell me of this, either.”

“Moash’s grandparents were silversmiths in Kholinar,” Kaladin began quietly- and Dalinar felt dread flood through him.

“The King’s mistake in that regard was rectified, the lighteyes involved punished,” he said coolly, forestalling the continuation of the story. “Nonetheless, your man wanted revenge, I assume, and you felt he was justified-“

“No, sir.” Kaladin said. “But I wanted to end Moash’s involvement in some way that didn’t entail a hanging-“

“And you didn’t think asking me for clemency was an option,” Dalinar sneered, “because you can’t possibly trust a lighteyes.”

As he finished speaking, his eyes slid from Kaladin’s to the bruise already forming on the young man’s face where Dalinar had hit him. The blow had been justified, Dalinar told himself, this was a transgression that had to be punished.

“You are relieved of your rank,” Dalinar said coldly. “I will ask one of my brightlords to reform the king’s honour guard, including all of your men; you will not have contact with them, I will not have you in a position of authority given the blatant disregard for myself and my family you have shown. You will apologize to Highmarshal Amaram for your accusations; you will admit they are false, and I shall do as countless of my officers have advised me to do and have you flogged for disrespect and insubordination towards your superiors. Your betrayal has cost you my debt for the lives of my sons and so help me, if there is one more thing you have kept from me...”

He let the threat hang in the air, already regretting the words that had spilled from his mouth. But he was tired, he was so tired: he was getting nowhere with the highprinces and to discover this so soon after Kaladin’s last secret had been revealed...

His frustration needed an outlet and unfortunately for Kaladin, he was the only source of frustration that Dalinar could lash out at.

“Dismissed,” he said, with a curt nod of his head. “Go downstairs and wait there until I tell you otherwise.”

“Brightlord,” Kaladin said quietly. Dalinar’s eyes widened a fraction, then narrowed.

“I trust there’s nothing else you want to tell me?” he said.

“No, brightlord.” Kaladin said. He bowed, rather than saluted, and turned and left the room.

His hands were shaking as he held his arms stiffly by his side.

#

“Sir?” Drehy asked uncertainly as Kaladin emerged from Dalinar’s study.

Kaladin didn’t respond, he hardly seemed to see Drehy as he pushed past him and disappeared down the corridor.

Drehy hesitated, unsure whether to follow him before Dalinar himself emerged, looking furious. “Come with me,” he said, heading off in the opposite direction to the one Kaladin had headed off in.

“Sir-“ Drehy hedged uncertainly.

“Captain Kaladin has been relieved of his rank and dismissed, I will consider the future command of Bridge Four a great deal more carefully in the future.”

Kaladin? Dismissed? Because Moash had betrayed them?

Did that mean Kaladin had known as well?

Drehy pushed aside the uncomfortable thought. If he had known, it was because he was trying to stop it, that was all.

Prince Adolin came racing towards them, looking harried. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Where the hell of you been?” Dalinar snapped. Adolin skidded to  a halt and stared.

“With Shallan,” he said. “You said I could have the evening-“

“Three o’clock in the morning is not the evening, Adolin. We’ve uncovered a nest of traitors in the centre of the warcamp. One of Kaladin’s men was involved; the captain has been dismissed.”

Adolin stared. “And where is he now?”

“I sent him to the basement.”

Adolin set off without another word, tearing down the corridor. Something felt wrong, off about his father’s whole demeanour, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. Kal would be in pieces.

He crashed through the small door that led to the war bunker’s basement, taking the steps three at a time and bursting through to find the room-

Empty. It was completely empty.

Adolin paused, scanning the room. His eyes fell on the blue coat draped over the back of a chair and Adolin walked up to it, picking it up in his hands. The lining was slightly warm, it was Kaladin’s.

So where the storms was he?

Something was very, very wrong. His father’s anger- father never snapped at him like that, and certainly not in front of other people. And now Kaladin had disappeared.

Or deserted, Adolin thought. But that was ridiculous? Why leave his coat behind?

#

Kaladin pushed past Drehy, ignoring the man’s startled enquiry if everything was alright. His cheek was stinging, it hurt-

There had been something in Dalinar’s eyes that made Kaladin afraid; Syl had hissed and vanished almost the second Kaladin had stepped in to the room and  she still hadn’t returned.

Kaladin could feel himself shaking.

“Captain?”

Kaladin turned to find Shen staring at him, something like pity in his black eyes. “Shen,” he turned away and kept walking. The Parshman followed him.

“What’s going on?” Shen asked.

Now the parhsman wanted to talk? “I’ve been sacked,” he said.

“Oh,”

Kaladin made his way down to the basement, and took off his coat, throwing it over the back of his chair. He guessed he wasn’t really entitled to wear it anymore.

What would happen to him now? Dalinar had made it clear that  he would be separated from Bridge Four; his punishment for this transgression appeared to be being punished for his last- doubtless Dalinar didn’t want it made public that there had been treason in the king’s honour guard, of all places.

I shall do as countless of my officers have advised me to do and have you flogged for disrespect and insubordination towards your superiors.

“You’re shaking.”

There was something odd about Shen’s voice, an odd…rhythm? Was that the word?

“Are you cold? Put your coat back on.”

“I’m fine,” Kaladin said. His voice sounded far off and distant…

Rlain caught Kaladin as he collapsed, the human’s weight nothing to him. He hadn’t expected the man to succumb to the rhythm of rest so quickly- it was almost as if their connection to each other gad been amplified by some unknown force-but that was ridiculous. Familiarity, that was all a rhythm required. And doubtless Kaladin had been happy to slip in to sleep.

“Well, that wasn’t too difficult,” Lania said. “How did you get him to come down in to the basement?”

“He was sent,” Rlain said. “He’s in disgrace with Kholin- someone will be sent down to check on him soon, I should think-“

“Well then, “ Lania said. “We’d better get him out of here. That rhythm you’re humming won’t hold him forever”

She unslung the length of rope around her shoulder and moved towards Kaladin. Rlain shook his head. “If you hum it to, we should be able to keep him asleep until we’re back at Nurak.”

“You care about him,” Lania said flatly.

“He’s the only human to have treated me with any decency.”

Frantic footsteps thudded towards them; someone was coming down stairs,

“Come on then,” Lania hissed. “Let’s get out of here.”

Rlain nodded, and carried the unconscious man through the gap in the wall. Lania followed, closing the entrance behind her just as the basement door slammed open.

Chapter Text

This fic is discontinued. I am really, really sorry: I'm unhappy with it for a number of reasons, most involving the fact I have NO IDEA where it was really going. On the plus side, I am rewriting it and have posted the first two chapters of the rewrite- Bonds Built On Trust - already. Again, sorry to all of you who've taken the time to read this, I really appreciate it.