Homeward Bound

[Jay Carpenter]

She was impossible to read: all ice and mistrust.  But was she really any different from the person who melted against his chest in Arad Doman?  She had been resistant then, also, but he'd glimpsed beyond her shield.  Playful, but honest about it.  Nythadri might as well have walked behind a wall rather than heft her shield, and it killed him to think he was responsible.

Those few moments of silence were tense, but Jai never smoothed his sleeves or swiped the snowmelt trickling from his hair.  He stared, hardened, until the delay it took to process her reply.  And he looked away, cowed by too much shame to look her in the eye.  

At his best Zakar was a dick.  His words were backhands.  What's worse, he meant them.  Zak was truthful to a fault, and clung to that trait like a true born borderlander to his honor.  Andreu knew it too, but he seemed to accept this as one of Zakar's lesser faults, but to Jai the vein pulsed deep.  Why stand in him?  If Dru found the proof he needed, Zak would deflect it toward Jai without hesitation.  Jai knew the answer, but it was probably the hardest one to accept.

He started nodding to himself.  He rubbed heavy eyes and shook his head.  

Stepping up for Zak in the name of family peace was the lie he told himself.  That was just it: Jai only lied to himself.  Or used to; he seemed to be getting the hang of it today.  Sickening as it was to face, the man was his family, and Jai was more like him than he was anyone else in it.  He was ready to pound his smug face in for dragging Nythadri's name through the mud, but when he spit on her, it was because he thought she deserved his judgement.  If he called Nythadri a whore, it was because he thought she viced Jai by the balls.  Figuratively and literally.   And who's fault was that?  Who's Nythadri?  Jaslene once asked.  Jai squeezed his eyes tighter, Blood and bloody ashes.

Yeah.  That was about right.  It'd be nice to figure some of these things out ahead of time.  If it weren't so damned messed up, and he wasn't on the verge of tears, Jai could have laughed.  Maybe he should laugh?  No.  Not quite yet.  It'd be the howl of a madman and too much like Andreu.  Zakar was venomous, but Dru was the more dangerous of the pair: a man ruled by chaos when Jai still clung to order.  A reckless devotion to order, probably, but Jai was in control of his own head.  Not that regret didn't make him want to spill his guts, but what guy didn't carry around guilt?  

The stormy roar of emotions died suddenly, a violence quick to rise and fast to fall.  Control, he told himself, and his mind quieted.  The Black Tower's boot crushed what remained of defiance, and Jai remembered his goal in all this.  He took refuge in the ever present emptiness, the great comfort men wielded like shields to buffer the savage nature of seizing saidin.  

He lifted his eyes, undeterred by Nythadri's piercing gaze.  How he could now resist what everything in him screamed to do, to sweep her close, brush the hair from her face, and crumble to her shoulder, he didn't want to guess.  Why he couldn't call on that same buffer and keep that knee in the Great Hall?  Why was he unable to cast the ever-cursed pride to the Oneness?  It would have saved him a lot of pain, not that dodging punishment topped his priorities, across the whole span of his life.  That night he ran for the sword ready to hurl himself into the fight, it wasn't for honor.  So why could he now stare into Nythadri's eyes as they flared the truth of who was at fault?  And not want to make her see that everything which happened was not what he intended to do?

It didn't really matter.  She was buying the lie.  A heat resonated beneath her ice bed.  The river did not yet glow red, but Jai knew those depths were stirring.  She was buying it, and it deadened the usually wide open windows to his soul from sight.  Why was he so well armored now?  It wasn't strength of reformed mail.  It was a man stripped bare to mortal flesh and stepping forward anyway.  An illusion.  One that if he believed firm enough, others would follow the trick, and believe him invincible.  When he disappeared, they'd tell themselves it was a magical twist of light.  A befalling of fate, not droplets of carnage clung to the air like fountain mist.  Nythadri need only believe enough to think him a monster.  It would save her a lot of pain if she did.  That was what he was here to do.

He was on the verge of walking away.  Disappearing as per her wish.  Cold nights waited, knowing only the last scorching look she gave him, but he would find warmth.  Transient comfort, but effective.  Like food for fuel and sleep for strength.  The existence might be lonely, but that didn't matter.  Not when it purchased something of this much value.  

The last barb was free.  The chains broken, and he was at peace with it.  Dribbling and wounded, but head raised and eyes level.  Whatever drained away would drain away, and it would take a s long as it would take to kill him.  And that was something he could accept now; because there was nothing left to lose.  Because the cause meant something.  Maybe Araya was more right than Jai gave the man credit.  Fantastic.  

"The answer is no."  

What?  The brush of fingertips pressed him away, and he went obediently.  But mouth parted, confused.  He absently watched the hand nestled against his coat as though they belonged to two other people.  In one breath she refused his rejection, and in the next pushed him away.  He ran his hands through glistening hair, then pulled the wet palms down cheeks.  Anger edged its way in. No?  His arms dropped to his sides.  

Jai flashed a focused look around them long enough to encage the room with the same ward he'd used in Arad Doman.  Then, with saidin pounding his chest and casing his throat, his response snapped.  
"Yes you will!"  

He stared while she blinked, but his frustration rolled across her lids like water. "You will let me do this!  Because I-" Then his mouth slammed shut, and nothing else issued but sounds of heavy breathing.  

The sudden halt in momentum made room for exhaustion.  The last few hours were a little rough.  The two bowls of stew and handful of snacks were long drained from his stomach.  Walking around Tar Valon wasn't exactly battle conditions, but it wasn't a walk in the park either.  Determination only kept a man upright for so long, and he wasn't sure if he had the strength to oppose Nythadri much longer.

The room's sole chair skidded suddenly, catching him as he sank into it, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.  Releasing saidin became necessary at that point.  The going back and forth, flexing and quaking, it was like walking a storm surge.  
"-because I want to do the right thing."