Consorting with Enemies

[Jay Carpenter]

Jai

The last time she slipped from his arms it had been into the waters of the Aryth Ocean, and confusion and regret was left in her wake. When the silk fell like whispers to the floor, his heart actually skipped a beat. She must have felt it: the tightness in his chest that was certain to crush him at any moment. Only he realized it was from holding his breath, and when the air finally burst from his lungs, it was with such emotion, he didn’t even know it was possible to feel so much all at once.

When he sank to his knees before, it was because he knew he’d never have another opportunity to display the depths of his devotion ever again, and the temptation to do so a second time was strong, but instead, he moved only a little as the towel crashed to his ankles. She already knew he wasn’t modest, and had seen as much before, but he’d never felt more vulnerable in his entire life as at that very moment. To reveal what he tirelessly kept hidden from everyone who knew him, and for the first time since gaining that scar, he was glad to have gotten up — if it meant this was where the road led.

Then, like two magnets that suddenly flipped, they rushed together on the winds of FINALLY, and he had no awareness of the seconds that passed until the downy softness of blankets filled their world. It was like being blissfully drunk on the best wine, existing in this dreamy sort of happiness that he didn’t even know was possible in this life. He did not want to stop, and he didn’t stop, but there came a moment wrapped in arms and legs, when he looked down upon Nythadri’s blushed face, brushed the hair from her temples, and breathlessly asked her permission. It was old-fashioned, but amid the desire he felt as sure as his own, the man that touched hilt to heart showed himself, and he waited for her assent. When she gave it, he smiled, pressed his lips to hers and happily obliged.

+++

He held her tight enough to think he’d never let her go. His mind was blissfully empty, eyelids low in exchange for drinking in the million other sensations. Her weight on his shoulder. The scent of her hair, damp with fuzzes beginning to tickle his cheek. The contentment that wound through himself — into her — and back again. It was almost overwhelming except that he wanted to be overwhelmed. And he was. It was the kind of moment he imagined he'd remember during the last minutes in this life.

Her statement tugged his lips into a broad, charmingly cocky smile, though his eyes remained shut when he responded.
“I see my plan to leave you wanting more worked like a charm.”

He might have remained completely unmoved through morning until she shifted. For some reason, it wasn’t difficult to release her, and the calmness in his expression watched her find a new position with a sort of wonder for everything she did. He often questioned what thoughts swirled behind those pale eyes, but even now, she was focused on providing like a task to be marked off a list. If he was dramatic, then she was practical. So he shifted and sat up alongside her, only to fix his gaze upon the needs currently occupying her mind and body.

Still strong, and strangely not as sleepy as he expected to be, he pat her knee reassuringly. “Well, luckily for you, Nythadri Sedai, I happen to be a channeler and can take care of both those things.”

When Jai channeled, it was like walking into a fireplace roaring with flames where only the most precise, most exact steps would keep himself from catching. He had to wonder what she would feel of it, if anything: the intensity of wrestling with saidin until control was wrought. It was second-nature, of course. So much so that he could channel and not even be aware of it, apparently, but it was gloriously powerful. Even something so simple as laying trays of food within arms reach surged him with gratitude. He plucked an olive, popping it into his mouth, and enjoyed the flavor while the second task was completed. He had no idea what to ward against, though he suspected intruders were the primary threat, so on the sweep of his hand, the threads knotted themselves over the door, and as he swallowed the olive, he explained, “It’s a lot easier when there’s only one way in or out. It’s a pain to make a ward when you’re sleeping in the woods. I mean, where do you put the knot?” And he chuckled to himself.

He plucked a second olive, this time leaning near in order to roll it against the plump of her lower lip, grinning with the kind of tease that said he might follow immediately afterward.

The tang of the cheese was oddly familiar, and he nodded in final understanding. He’d eaten the same before. Long ago. Illian. But he said nothing of it. Not yet. It wasn't until he had devoured a few mouthfuls that he realized his own ravenous hunger. There, they enjoyed the moment while it lasted.

“I know you’re eager to talk, and there’s something bothering you about waiting. Guilty, maybe? I’m not sure.” His gaze sharpened as he observed her, attempting to decipher her thoughts. "So, if you're going to insist that this can't wait until morning," he began, feeling invigorated, as though he could stay awake all night and engage in more of their current activities before leaping into battle at dawn, “then I insist on something in return.”

Despite how he felt, Nythadri was practically asleep sitting up. He wasn’t quite sure how to do it, and maybe the strength came from saidin or maybe it came from himself, but mastering this newfound focus was surprisingly effortless.

He breathed deeply after infusing some of that energy back through the bond, and slipped to his back afterward until his head was propped by the pillow, where he continued to snack while he listened.