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Adolin was insufferable as ever, more so even.
The previous night, at the meeting, the highprince had insisted on accompanying them on the morning patrol of the Plains, under the pretext he wanted to study the territory around the camps. At first Dalinar was apprehensive, but the princeling had argued that by focusing on the inner plateaus they had been ignoring possible dangers in the vicinity of the camps. Kaladin was well aware of that, and his men were doing a perfectly fine job of patrolling. He didn’t believe that was his only motive, but what could he say?
And so, here he was, riding a storming horse, because Adolin had insisted they rode, next to the princeling’s own beast. The Ryshadium stallion was a bright white towering mass, his rider’s shardplate blinding blue in the morning sun, basically a beacon for trouble.
“I suppose you never wake up on the right side of bed, bridgeboy?” Kaladin pointedly didn’t turn his head, fearing that the mocking blue eyes might make him lose his temper. Again.
“Am I that easy to ignore?” That exaggeratedly whiny, snobbish tone crawled under his skin and forcefully made him meet the highprince’s eyes.
“Hardly so, given the fact you are shining.”
A smile bloomed on Adolin’s lips, and he snickered, running his fingers through his stylishly messy hair. The blond strands reflected the sunshine.
He was infuriatingly beautiful, almost mocking, as if to establish dominance over the darkeyes around him.
“I didn’t know it was possible for you to make compliments!”
Scoffing, Kaladin thought back on what he had said, Kelek’s breath, a lighteyes could twist your words like snakes.
“Your shardplate reflects the sun, we’re probably visible from miles.” The barren terrain of the Plains was void of any coverings, leaving them vulnerable. Adolin of course wasn’t worried, a shardbearer was meant to be seen, to instill fear in the enemies’ hearts.
Finally, they fell into silence, the wind carried only the clattering of spears and hooves.
Every step of the horse made Kaladin more anxious. He was responsible for protecting his men, and now a spoiled brat on top. He trusted Bridge Four, but he didn’t trust the highprince, and what was maybe worse, the highprince didn’t trust him. Sometimes he would catch him staring, studying his moves, and there was always that high tension when they sparred. The princeling hates him, but behaves for the sake of his father, Kaladin concluded.
The next hour was uneventful, Adolin decided to redirect his blabbing to the other members of the patrol, droning on about the new lady he was courting. There was a new lady every week and Kaladin had to study their families each time, it was easy to disguise an assassination as a private romantic date.
He had given up on love after Laral, and seeing Adolin waltz around with a different lady every night made something twist in him like a barbed wire. In a time of war, a highprince shouldn’t waste his time like that. But that was to expect of a lighteyes.
They were nearing the rocky hill that marked the turnaround point for the patrols, when a few things happened in a second. His horse made an ungodly sound, and bolted, his head snapped back painfully from the momentum, disorienting him, and he heard shouts fading behind him.
Holding onto the rains for dear life, Kaladin inhaled a bit of stormlight, not enough to be seen, but enough to lash himself to the saddle. Behind him, he could hear another horse, and Oh Storms, something else. Finally regaining enough balance to turn his head, he was met with a blur of blue and the shine of shardblade. He and Adolin were separated from the group, leaving them behind the rocky formations. A Whitespine beast was chasing close behind them, it’s spiked back carapace chattering threateningly.
“Don’t look back and hold the rains straight!” Kaladin obliged, not that he had much other choice.
Whitespines were fast, very fast, unlike chasmfiends. Lighteyes hunted them in forests, where it was easier to surround and confuse them, but here they had only the rocks for cover. He couldn’t start flying in front of Adolin, so another plan was needed, one that involved not being eaten.
“It’s too fast to fight in close combat on horseback.” Adolin was next to him, the blade in his hand rending the air. The whitespine was still behind them, lagging a little behind. “Make a sharp turn to the left, then dismantle.”
Kaladin only grunted in response.
Of course, the highprince had been on hunts and had more experience. Kaladin remembered the disfigured son of Roshone, laying dead with a tusk sticking from his abdomen. The day that had started it all. Hate and anger surged through him and propelled him off the horse on Adolin’s command. They had about five seconds before it caught up to them.
“Stay behind me, my shardplate will protect me.” Adolin had taken windstance and attacked, not giving the whitespine the chance to strike first.
The beast lunged with its tusks dangerously close to the highprince’s head. Kaladin was certain it could break even a shardplate helmet, given the chance. He wasn’t going to lose any more of his life to these beasts.
With a spear, he couldn’t pierce the carapace, so he aimed for the joints and jumped into action.
“Step back bridgeboy!” Ducking under the shardbearer’s swing, Kaladin managed to strike the beast, making it hiss.
Adolin’s blade was giant and entering the two-meter parameter around him, Kaladin risked getting his head cut through like butter, but there wasn’t any other way. The whitespine was too fast to fight from a distance.
“It’s my job to protect you, princeling!” Adolin didn’t protest further, too preoccupied.
The sparring had made them familiar with one other’s fighting and they danced seamlessly around each other, taking turns striking the beast. Suddenly Kaladin realized something was wrong with it. Yes, it was fast, but its feet moved erratically, overcompensating for an injury maybe.
Suddenly something hit behind Adolin’s knees knocking him to the ground. Storms, they forgot about the tail. The hard as rock carapace cracked the shardplate and it began leaking light. With a roar, the Whitespine stepped on Adolin’s chest ready to snap the princeling’s head.
Kaladin sucked in the leaked stormlight and with all his force, pierced the tail, pinning it to the ground. The beast opened its mouth to turn and snap at him, and Adolin took the moment and thrust his blade into the whitespine’s brain from under it. It let out one final piercing hiss and its eyes burned out, its massive body slumping on top of the prince. Ichor poured over the ground, spreading around them in a sticky puddle.
A groan came underneath the lifeless mass.
With the help of the shardplate strength Adolin lifted the corpse and rolled from under it, emerging like a nightmarespren. Kaladin gave him a hand and the blonde took it, standing up to his feet. He quickly took off his helm, revealing a violet sticky mess of hair.
“You should’ve left it to me.” It wasn’t an accusation, more so, a statement.
“Arrogant prick.” Of course, a lighteyes was never thankful, he was too good to be saved by a mere bridgeman.
Adolin spread his hands angrily, as if to yield.
“What is the problem with you! Whatever I do, you hate me, as if I am to blame for everything wrong in your life!” His blue eyes were throwing sparkles, his pink lips, an angry line.
“You are! Your kind took everything from me.”
Adolin stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
“My kind? I have been nothing but nice to you and your men, my family saved you from Sadeas need I remind you and gave you your freedom back.” The blue eyed man closed his fist around Kaladin’s shirt, pulling him even closer. “Maybe you just can’t grasp that a person is not just their eye color. Not so different from a lighteyes eh?”
It stung. The princeling was right, Kaladin was a prejudiced bastard, but how could he not be? Every time he trusted, the inevitable betrayal hurt more.
“I didn’t want to disappoint my father, so I came after you, I try to protect you, and you still fight me!”
Kaladin froze. So he was trying to help him? He had seen kindness so rarely in his life, that he had mistaken it for mockery. And Adolin was angry, angry and something else, but Kaladin couldn’t put his finger on it.
“I- I’m sorry.” Was all he could muster.
Their faces were inches apart and Kaladin noticed Ichor was pooling on the prince’s eyebrow, threatening to drip in his icy eye. Before he could stop himself, he lifted a hand and wiped it off. Adolin’s pupils blew wide, and he let go of his shirt, turning his back on him.
Kelek’s breath, he cursed himself. He was not good with words, and apparently with actions also.
“We were a good team.” It was a peace offering.
Adolin looked at him, his eyes were softer, and a smile was tugging at the edges of his lips.
“Maybe we should to this more often.” Storms, his mood changed quicker than that of an indisposed lady.
Kaladin finally gave thought to the situation and knelt to the corpse to inspect it. Around its legs were visible rope marks. He frowned.
“Ah I see you are back to your usual self.” Adolin chuckled and peered at where he was looking. He also frowned. “It was captured?”
“Yes, and released here, probably by someone who knew we were coming.” He cycled through the people at the meeting, but they could have been overheard by a servant, or spy. It was no use searching how the information leaked. They would have to be more careful from now on.
“All Lighteyes know I’ve been on hunts since I was a child. They wouldn’t try to kill me with a whitespine. You on the other hand…” Kaladin caught where his thoughts were drifting. Every Lighteyes would assume he had no experience with the beasts, and as a regular spearman has no chance to win a fight.
“Maybe…But why would they wait for the day you come?”
“Well if I had left you to die, your men would hate me, and we will be left with no loyal guard.”
Maybe the princeling wasn’t so clueless after all. If he hadn’t followed him, Kaladin could have used more stormlight to overpower the beast. But he didn’t know that, so he had come to save him like a hero on his white stallion. Kaladin felt his face burn, regretting how he had treated him. An image of the heroic highprince holding him like a damsel came to his mind, but he chased it away quicly.
“The horses are probably at the camp already, so let’s go find your men. And clean clothes.” Adolin made a disgusted face as his plate squelched with every move. The captain couldn’t lie, it was fun to watch the perfectly groomed princeling squirm, covered in bodily fluids. A smile crept on his face.
“The only thing you find fun is my misery!” A sticky gauntlet sprawled on his face, leaving purple stains. Kaladin shoved him off, earning a laugh.
Adolin was three years older than him, but with a dirty face and sticky hair he looked younger, endearing even. Kaladin shook his head, disapproving of his own thoughts. Someone made an attempt to assassinate either him or the highprince, and he was play fighting like a child.
Next to him Adolin was walking slower than usual, the broken shardplate was probably weighing him down. Kaladin slowed down despite the worry he felt for his men.
“We should be more careful from now on, you shouldn’t make plans publicly.”
“Well, I already have a date for tonight.” Kaladin didn’t look at him, but he felt reluctance in the words.
“Is it so important, you have to risk being killed twice today?”
“A man is nothing if he doesn’t keep his word.” On this principle they could agree.
“Then I have no choice but to accompany you.” Adolin shot him an offended look, opening his mouth to protest. “I wouldn’t like it either, don’t worry. And I will stay at a reasonable distance.”
“You are too paranoid.”
“If I’m not, you will be too dead to complain.”
***
They were on a terrace, carved in the stone face of a hillside. There was just one table in the middle, adorned with fruit and wine. Adolin was sitting, pristine as always, and the wind carried the spicy smell of his cologne to where Kaladin was standing at guard.
The date had been set for half an hour ago, but the lady was nowhere to be seen. A message she couldn’t come wasn’t sent, so they waited.
The Highprince was wearing his uniform, buttoned and tailored just the right way to hug his muscles. His hair was a fashionable mop, lazy curls brushing his cheekbones. It would have been the perfect picture, if his face wasn’t so sour. The man’s eyes were stormy blue, and a fine wrinkle sat between his eyebrows.
Time went on and it became clear to both of them, Adolin had been stood up.
“It’s a place to watch the coming Highstorm.” His smooth voice cut through the silence. “I reserved to whole balcony for privacy.” Adolin shook his head as if to scoff at himself.
“You lighteyes always think of new ways to put yourself in danger.” Usually Kaladin wouldn’t answer, he wasn’t talkative, but today something made him want to cheer up the highprince. He knew the way rejection stung.
“And what about it, Stormblessed? You never told me how you got that name by the way.” Adolin beckoned him to sit on the empty chair next to him. They were alone, only a few Parshmen who sat by the door watched. So, he joined him, there wasn’t any harm in sitting.
“Sadeas strung me up in the Highstorm, to be judged by the Stormfather.” Adolin’s face emanated true hate at the sound of the other highprince’s name. Kaladin felt the same.
“I can’t decide if you have incredibly good or bad luck.”
Sipping on a glass of wine, the lighteyes studied him under thick blond lashes. He had been drinking since they came, and Kaladin was starting to worry.
“I don’t either.”
Another long sip. Kaladin’s eyes trailed on his smooth neck and up to his reddened lips.
“I suppose you don’t have much insight with the ladies?” Kaladin shook his head, no lady wanted a man with slave brands on his forehead. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. They always leave.” For the first time the façade of the self assured princeling came down, he was just Adolin, a young man lost in the ways of court relations.
“You are a highprince, your family can find you a noble lady to marry before you can blink.”
“I want to love.” Something was burning in those eyes.
A thunder echoed close, the Highstorm was approaching. Kaladin looked towards the Origin of storms, black clouds were moving at enormous speed towards them. Kaladin sat up and went to the railings as the winds picked up.
The Storm could be heard miles ahead, a deep rumbling coming within the nether of the sky. Lightning flashed ominously as the Stormwall neared. It looked like swirling ink, as if a giant hand drew with angry brushstrokes. The Storm was alive, and Kaladin could feel it, ecstasy started to fill him, his heart beating against his chest painfully.
What would it feel like to let himself go, and suck in the Stormlight? To let the winds carry him, like in his dream. To be one with the angry waters spilling over this barren land.
“We should get inside!” Adolin was shouting, but he could barely hear him.
It was so close, his skin was starting to tingle, the light seeped into his bones, pooling inside him like molten glass.
A strong hand separated him from the railing and tugged him. Regaining his senses, Kaladin let himself be guided and they dashed inside the safe room, the Parshendi closed the doors as the storm hit the hill. His ears were still filled with the booming and he couldn’t quite understand what Adolin said.
“I said, lets go to the sitting room.”
They went deeper in the mountain through another set of doors, finding themselves in an empty room, lit with cut gemstones. They sat on a plush sofa.
“You looked like you might have jumped off.”
Kaladin looked at the other man for the first time since they went in, his hair was disheveled, and Kaladin stifled the urge to run his fingers through it. The energy of the storm inside him was making him feel strange, as if he had to pour somewhere what he had stolen.
“I got lost in the moment, sorry.”
Adolin began to laugh, but immediately doubled over clutching his chest. The surgeon in Kaladin jumped out and he was hands on before he could realize it.
“Did something happen outside?” Guilt splashed over him, he was supposed to protect the Kholin family before all alse.
“Don’t be stupid, I just got bruised by the Whitespine.” Kaladin started unbuttoning his uniform coat. ”I- It’s nothing really.”
His protests were only vocal and Kaladin took it for a sign he would let him check the injury. Quick fingers worked the buttons and soon he was down to the dress shirt. He tugged at the fabric and eyed the highprince who was avoiding his eyes.
“Can you take it off?”
Adolin let out a ragged sigh and removed the shirt. Just bruised was an understatement, his chest was blue to purple in the place where the Whitespine had stepped on him. Storms, the shardplate must have caved in, and he didn’t say anything. Kaladin cursed himself for not noticing immediately, if he had massaged the place, the blood would drain properly and some of the bruising could have been lighter.
He let his fingers trail the shape of the ribs, checking for any internal damage. Adolin’s skin was hot, his breath even hotter on Kaladin’s face. He tried to ignore it, but the sweet smell of wine tingled inside his nose.
“Am I going to live doctor?” The prince was trying to joke, but his voice was raspy and his breathing shallow.
“Why didn’t you go to the healers?”
“I deserve it for not being diligent enough and letting a Whitespine on top of me.” As a Captain, Kaladin might agree, a soldier who wasn’t paying enough attention in battle, deserved the beating to learn his lesson. But as a surgeon, and more as Kaladin, he didn’t feel right letting the prince punish himself.
“Maybe, but bruises don’t suit you.” He put a bit more pressure with his fingers and started massaging in circles. A whine died down in Adolin’s throat and his face reddened. It was a noise, that went through Kaladin’s whole body and made the tips of his fingers tingle. He didn’t stop, telling himself it was just a medical procedure.
“And I didn’t think being caring suited you, but here we are.”
Kaladin didn’t respond, instead letting his fingers drag on the prince’s bare chest, wringing out another whine from him. It sounded more guttural. He let their eyes meet, and a shiver ran through his spine, as he let himself be engulfed in the blue. They were so close, the warmth of their bodies merged and their breaths combined.
Adolin leaned in, but Kaladin drew away, afraid of what might come next. His whole body was buzzing, and he felt afraid he might start glowing next.
“I don’t bite, Kaladin.”
The sound of his name, whispered from Adolin’s lips, made his stomach pool with warmth. Whatever this was, Kaladin realized he couldn’t control it anymore.
“I do.” Finally closing the distance between them, Kaladin took in a sharp breath, and their lips crashed.
He tasted of wine and salt. His lips were soft and his tongue warm, and Kaladin just couldn’t think straight anymore. At last, he let his hand run through the blond strands and tug at them a little. Adolin moaned in his mouth and grabbed his waist pulling him even closer. It was a hungry kiss, a kiss of starved, burning from desire men.
He tugged harder, tipping Adolin’s head back, and exposing the smooth skin on his neck that just begged to be defiled. He sank teeth in it and sucked, bruising just under the jawline. Adolin whimpered with approval, as he blew cold air on the spot.
He trailed kisses back up, until he reached the corner of his mouth. Holding there for a moment, he let himself enjoy the view. What they were doing was pure madness, but it felt so storming good to be mad. Impatient, Adolin met their lips again, this time in a slower, deeper kiss, his fingers tracing the captains back.
With great effort, Kaladin pulled back, enough to look him in the eyes.
“I don’t know what I might do to you, Adolin.”
A sly smile stretched across the highprice’s face, devious sparks lighted within his blue eyes.
“To me? Oh bridgeboy, you are so deliciously clueless.”