07-29-2023, 08:52 PM
Of the King’s actual schemes, Nythadri did not know beyond guesses, but she would wager Kaydrienne’s public retreat had been tactical and agreed upon. Trista’s role had clearly been the work of months of planning, down to the gaudy and resplendent red of their matching attire. Ironic, really, for it to be a Red Sister to bring the whole thing crashing down around their ears. No one but Kekura could have mustered the support for a coup in the Tower. And Daryen would not find the same ally in her, that was for sure. She would not be an Amyrlin who sought to reign over peace-time, for if the loyal Red had acted it was simply because Kaydrienne didn’t.
Light, though, surely the Green Sitters wouldn’t support bringing war and sanctions upon the Seanchan, if it came to it? Lythia would speak reason to them even amidst the cavalcade of politics. At least Elayne saw sense when she sent men north with the Shienaran ambassador.
It wasn't even the only worry. For if Kekura did acquire the Amyrlin’s stole, it was unlikely Daryen’s sister would live to see beyond the shift of power – even if she renounced Kaydrienne entirely, and swore fealty anew. Rumour had long suggested the Brown was being groomed to replace Adrasteia as Keeper one day, but more, Fate was the strongest woman among them. She presented too much risk to rally future rebellion. And if the Greens were ferrying out their Accepted, no one expected things to proceed smoothly. How in the light was Daryen going to react if the Tower executed his twin? Nythadri did not know him well enough to even guess, but she remembered well what he had said; the subtle inference that he placed the crown on his brow above the pins on his collar. A dangerous combination to test.
Despite her gaze pinching concern, she said nothing of it though. For now Kekura’s ascension was all conjecture, and perhaps Kaydrienne would weather the storm unfolding in the Hall at this very moment. Nythadri doubted it, but it was possible. Such was the churn of her thoughts as she watched Jai sift through his memories.
It was the second time he used the vagaries of “they,” she noted, and yet he named Kekura without the blink of a hesitation. Did he even notice? Someone must have facilitated such a meeting, and before the Compulsion had later sent him to Red Halls given Jai remembered it. She ought to have asked then, who he had spoken to first, but she was wary to begin unravelling that thread. If he went through proper channels this time, it had to have been someone he trusted to deliver the truth of her absence. Not an Accepted or servant. And none but a Green would have known Nythadri was absent from the Tower anyway. Gone was a very different prevarication than cannot be disturbed, which one might expect to be offered to explain the unexpected disappearance of a young Sister to someone outside the Tower. Unless one suspected the Asha’man in question might well storm the bloody building in his search, had he believed she was simply being kept from him.
Maybe she was reading too far into ever deepening shadows, but it unsettled her. Only voicing those fears now made them too real.
So Nythadri allowed him the time to process, watching quietly as he stood. She remained where she knelt, hands rested in her lap, back straight. Reflection stilled her for a moment; realisation that even amidst such turmoil, Jai was the island that stemmed the chaos. He gave it purpose, the Game she hated, yet would play ruthlessly to keep them safe. He feared the conspiracy of being used. She’d seen it in Arad Doman, and she hardly blamed him. She couldn’t imagine the violation such use as Compulsion must leave, yet she knew him well enough to realise he factored himself not one whit into his worries. That skull was thick-headed though, and he never listened when he buried his head like that, so she let him run the course.
“Jai, are you actually propositioning “an Aes Sedai”?” Her tone was scathing. It stung still, how easily he had cast her with faceless aspersion the moment he saw the ring, and she was unlikely to let him forget it soon. There was a flatness to her gaze that indicated her to be unimpressed, spoiled somewhat by the pale glint in her eyes as she roamed his profile. He ought to be able to read the subtle shifts in her emotions by now though. As well as she read his.
“How very scandalous.”
She took the hand, as she always would, and fit easily into his arms. So far as distractions went, she was not resistant to playing into the jaws of this one – because she was selfish, and he was here. Jai wasn’t wrong about everything, if it was about the most absurdly ridiculous thing she’d ever heard him say. But it was hardly the first time the symbiotic relationship between his duty and his demons blinded him to the focus of a single path. Self-sacrifice was his unerring default, like he was still trying to finish the Fade’s work. “I hate to prove your theory about me peeling the layers around you correct, but I do desperately need to get out of this dress.” She murmured it close, and the grin was a little wicked, but she was talking about the blood as much as she was about temptation. It wasn’t incidental that her touch followed the path of his scar. Knowing it would shiver him through, and her too, but also knowing it would sober him. Because of course she knew what he was doing. And of course she wouldn’t let him bloody do it.
“Light Jai I’d accuse you of having nothing but air circulating between your ears if I couldn’t hear your bloody thoughts rattling around so loudly in there.” Her forehead pressed close, to stillness not passion, though the draw between them was always a little reckless, and if he started on the laces of her dress anyway she was unlikely to stop him. Between them, Jai was the only one who gave a passing nod to being noble. Nythadri would let the world burn for this. She’d already let a man die for this. One man, or twenty men, the cost could stack against her own soul and she would pay it.
She cupped his jaw in her hands. Voice soft. “You don’t get to be a bloody martyr. I swear it back. Ten-fold, if you like. Those were the old terms, no?” Nythadri didn’t make declarations like that, not usually. Not in matters of the heart anyway. Those terms had actually been retribution, a throwaway comment in a warm ocean far from home, to a man she should not have been in the company of to begin with. Let alone seen again. A smile played for the memory, and for once she did not try to deny the tangle they’d made of their threads since, or the way it made her feel. She could have told him the trouble she was in then. But this wasn’t about protection, and she didn’t want to drape the connection between them in chains of the duty he held so dear. When she pulled back far enough to meet his eye, there was only indomitable certainty.
“Loose threads won’t matter if there’s not a Forsaken to pull them.”
A knock sounded then.
Every muscle in her tensed. For Nythadri at least it was an unusually virulent reaction to something so mundane, though it only lasted a moment. “It’s probably just the servants,” she murmured, and regretted the phrasing in the same breath. Of course it was, she’d asked them to return, and she cursed Arikan for the seeds of paranoia slid like needles under her skin. She didn’t untangle quickly, but she did shore herself up in Aes Sedai stillness. Not to keep him out, but to keep herself in. And because she wanted him to pay her next words heed, for the warning came swift with urgency. She should have started here, but her priorities had been elsewhere.
“We might not be safe here, but I didn’t know where else to go. For light’s sake don’t put any trust in the bloody ‘nobleman’. He’s dangerous. The wine nearly gave me a light-forsaken aneurysm. But we need to stay within favour for now. Wait here.”
She peeled away to answer after a moment to assure herself he was listening. No hesitation marked the way she opened the door, for she was not sure she truly believed any danger lay the other side. It would hardly announce itself so politely. Still, relief left a tired hollow in its wake to see it true. A glance back at Jai cleared the concern, and she let the servants in, uncaring what they made of the half-naked Asha’man or the blood-stained sink. They’d brought the fresh water she’d asked for, and plenty of it. Towels and such like. She’d enquired over the fort’s medical provision, and apparently alarmed by the blood, a surgeon had been summoned from the barracks anticipating physical injury. Nythadri spoke with him quietly on the threshold while the other servants worked quickly within. There was food brought, too; simple fare. She’d not eaten since Ellomai’s pastries, and despite it found little appetite, but knew Jai had left the celebrations before dinner had been served. Talin was still absent, which was poor news, but a letter was delivered with a bow before the door closed once more, and they were alone again.
Light, though, surely the Green Sitters wouldn’t support bringing war and sanctions upon the Seanchan, if it came to it? Lythia would speak reason to them even amidst the cavalcade of politics. At least Elayne saw sense when she sent men north with the Shienaran ambassador.
It wasn't even the only worry. For if Kekura did acquire the Amyrlin’s stole, it was unlikely Daryen’s sister would live to see beyond the shift of power – even if she renounced Kaydrienne entirely, and swore fealty anew. Rumour had long suggested the Brown was being groomed to replace Adrasteia as Keeper one day, but more, Fate was the strongest woman among them. She presented too much risk to rally future rebellion. And if the Greens were ferrying out their Accepted, no one expected things to proceed smoothly. How in the light was Daryen going to react if the Tower executed his twin? Nythadri did not know him well enough to even guess, but she remembered well what he had said; the subtle inference that he placed the crown on his brow above the pins on his collar. A dangerous combination to test.
Despite her gaze pinching concern, she said nothing of it though. For now Kekura’s ascension was all conjecture, and perhaps Kaydrienne would weather the storm unfolding in the Hall at this very moment. Nythadri doubted it, but it was possible. Such was the churn of her thoughts as she watched Jai sift through his memories.
It was the second time he used the vagaries of “they,” she noted, and yet he named Kekura without the blink of a hesitation. Did he even notice? Someone must have facilitated such a meeting, and before the Compulsion had later sent him to Red Halls given Jai remembered it. She ought to have asked then, who he had spoken to first, but she was wary to begin unravelling that thread. If he went through proper channels this time, it had to have been someone he trusted to deliver the truth of her absence. Not an Accepted or servant. And none but a Green would have known Nythadri was absent from the Tower anyway. Gone was a very different prevarication than cannot be disturbed, which one might expect to be offered to explain the unexpected disappearance of a young Sister to someone outside the Tower. Unless one suspected the Asha’man in question might well storm the bloody building in his search, had he believed she was simply being kept from him.
Maybe she was reading too far into ever deepening shadows, but it unsettled her. Only voicing those fears now made them too real.
So Nythadri allowed him the time to process, watching quietly as he stood. She remained where she knelt, hands rested in her lap, back straight. Reflection stilled her for a moment; realisation that even amidst such turmoil, Jai was the island that stemmed the chaos. He gave it purpose, the Game she hated, yet would play ruthlessly to keep them safe. He feared the conspiracy of being used. She’d seen it in Arad Doman, and she hardly blamed him. She couldn’t imagine the violation such use as Compulsion must leave, yet she knew him well enough to realise he factored himself not one whit into his worries. That skull was thick-headed though, and he never listened when he buried his head like that, so she let him run the course.
“Jai, are you actually propositioning “an Aes Sedai”?” Her tone was scathing. It stung still, how easily he had cast her with faceless aspersion the moment he saw the ring, and she was unlikely to let him forget it soon. There was a flatness to her gaze that indicated her to be unimpressed, spoiled somewhat by the pale glint in her eyes as she roamed his profile. He ought to be able to read the subtle shifts in her emotions by now though. As well as she read his.
“How very scandalous.”
She took the hand, as she always would, and fit easily into his arms. So far as distractions went, she was not resistant to playing into the jaws of this one – because she was selfish, and he was here. Jai wasn’t wrong about everything, if it was about the most absurdly ridiculous thing she’d ever heard him say. But it was hardly the first time the symbiotic relationship between his duty and his demons blinded him to the focus of a single path. Self-sacrifice was his unerring default, like he was still trying to finish the Fade’s work. “I hate to prove your theory about me peeling the layers around you correct, but I do desperately need to get out of this dress.” She murmured it close, and the grin was a little wicked, but she was talking about the blood as much as she was about temptation. It wasn’t incidental that her touch followed the path of his scar. Knowing it would shiver him through, and her too, but also knowing it would sober him. Because of course she knew what he was doing. And of course she wouldn’t let him bloody do it.
“Light Jai I’d accuse you of having nothing but air circulating between your ears if I couldn’t hear your bloody thoughts rattling around so loudly in there.” Her forehead pressed close, to stillness not passion, though the draw between them was always a little reckless, and if he started on the laces of her dress anyway she was unlikely to stop him. Between them, Jai was the only one who gave a passing nod to being noble. Nythadri would let the world burn for this. She’d already let a man die for this. One man, or twenty men, the cost could stack against her own soul and she would pay it.
She cupped his jaw in her hands. Voice soft. “You don’t get to be a bloody martyr. I swear it back. Ten-fold, if you like. Those were the old terms, no?” Nythadri didn’t make declarations like that, not usually. Not in matters of the heart anyway. Those terms had actually been retribution, a throwaway comment in a warm ocean far from home, to a man she should not have been in the company of to begin with. Let alone seen again. A smile played for the memory, and for once she did not try to deny the tangle they’d made of their threads since, or the way it made her feel. She could have told him the trouble she was in then. But this wasn’t about protection, and she didn’t want to drape the connection between them in chains of the duty he held so dear. When she pulled back far enough to meet his eye, there was only indomitable certainty.
“Loose threads won’t matter if there’s not a Forsaken to pull them.”
A knock sounded then.
Every muscle in her tensed. For Nythadri at least it was an unusually virulent reaction to something so mundane, though it only lasted a moment. “It’s probably just the servants,” she murmured, and regretted the phrasing in the same breath. Of course it was, she’d asked them to return, and she cursed Arikan for the seeds of paranoia slid like needles under her skin. She didn’t untangle quickly, but she did shore herself up in Aes Sedai stillness. Not to keep him out, but to keep herself in. And because she wanted him to pay her next words heed, for the warning came swift with urgency. She should have started here, but her priorities had been elsewhere.
“We might not be safe here, but I didn’t know where else to go. For light’s sake don’t put any trust in the bloody ‘nobleman’. He’s dangerous. The wine nearly gave me a light-forsaken aneurysm. But we need to stay within favour for now. Wait here.”
She peeled away to answer after a moment to assure herself he was listening. No hesitation marked the way she opened the door, for she was not sure she truly believed any danger lay the other side. It would hardly announce itself so politely. Still, relief left a tired hollow in its wake to see it true. A glance back at Jai cleared the concern, and she let the servants in, uncaring what they made of the half-naked Asha’man or the blood-stained sink. They’d brought the fresh water she’d asked for, and plenty of it. Towels and such like. She’d enquired over the fort’s medical provision, and apparently alarmed by the blood, a surgeon had been summoned from the barracks anticipating physical injury. Nythadri spoke with him quietly on the threshold while the other servants worked quickly within. There was food brought, too; simple fare. She’d not eaten since Ellomai’s pastries, and despite it found little appetite, but knew Jai had left the celebrations before dinner had been served. Talin was still absent, which was poor news, but a letter was delivered with a bow before the door closed once more, and they were alone again.