06-18-2023, 01:40 PM
She might have taken offence at his condescending explanation of the obvious. Instead, Nythadri was amused at what it appeared he had taken the time to glean from Talin about her, and a spark of it flared in her reaction. The sarcasm was sharp enough to part flesh, but to that end Nythadri had no real ego to injure, and she did not much care what Arikan thought of her. Prejudices weighed his shoulders like centuries old dust.
“What I noticed,” she corrected dryly, “is that this morning you claimed a need for suitable allies before you acted. Something has changed since I left, for you to now take the risk of making such a visible play.” Even the objects purloined from the Black Tower’s stores did not offer enough of a resource to warrant revealing himself. Not even for the sake of pride. And certainly not for the sake of their protection. Yet he hadn’t mentioned Elsae, for all his earlier outbursts concerning Talin’s creative interpretation of the bargain they’d made. What that actually meant she was not wholly convinced she wanted to know, especially given Talin’s absence, but neither did the directness of her attention break hold. She did not ask. She wanted to know what, if anything, he would offer. He clearly liked the sound of his own voice.
“If you truly believed that you would have done it. I doubt I could have stopped you.” The rest was given with a feigned shrug, though a life was hardly a casual topic. If he had killed the Dedicated, their fragile alliance would have frayed its very edges. But she believed he understood it would have been a betrayal unworthy of the gain. If Nythadri willingly cast a shadow upon her own soul in accepting this truce, she would not see the path of it strewn with needless bodies. Neither had she forgotten the way he had shaken at Talin’s arm though; the words that had spilled from his mouth. As he examined Jai like a shiny new tool, and she felt her ire rising at the casual needling, she studied Arikan with unhidden calculation in return.
She had a dozen and more questions about immediate plans. Nythadri never pledged by half measures, and if she found it reckless in herself, she could blinker her thoughts from the horror in favour of a cause. To that end she considered taking the seat offered and allowing events to transpire as they may. Alone, she would have, despite her own exhaustion. She wanted answers, and she had the gall to demand them, even of a dreadlord. But she felt every tension in Jai’s grip, both as subtle and insistent as the strings of her violin; felt too the instant of relief when Arikan must have acquiesced and released the shield, moments before he raked a bloodied hand through his hair. It settled a resolve. She would not allow a questioning at Arikan’s hands, nor at his witness. Not because she suspected his method; in a startling human affectation, Arikan seemed both genuine and curious in his awe, and Jai had no reason to withhold any answers such as he knew, and certainly not with her own prompting. She would not allow it because she understood the pain unravelling the truth of his Compulsion and its consequences would cause him. Privacy was the best balm she could offer to such an injury.
“She’s a Yellow Sister,” she said in answer to Jai’s question. “She’s the one who brought me here, and she has a lot to bloody well answer for.” If Talin were in the fort, she would have felt both saidar-wrought gates, and Nythadri couldn’t fathom a reason she’d keep her distance. Nor did she have any notion of where the woman might have gone. Surprisingly she cast no suspicion on Arikan despite his smugly evasive response. The manner in which they’d interacted earlier suggested some kind of earned trust between them, even if neither would call it such. Her absence was a frustration though, not least upon the strain thinning what was left of Nythadri’s patience for the mystery. “Light send we have no need of her, then,” she muttered.
Her gaze finally caught on Jai’s, and stayed there. She didn’t have enough in the way of answers for either of them, nor any desire to withhold the things she did know. Arikan’s aid was not without cost, and Nythadri had spent the coin for them both in desperation. She didn’t regret it, whatever future it consigned, only that he did not yet know it, and she did not enjoy the shape of that secret. She acknowledged unspoken the search of his gaze, and her thumb grazed the inside of his wrist. She would not lean on blind patience and trust, both undeserved in the moment, though she knew he would give them without question.
After a moment Nythadri’s attention returned to Arikan. “The news will keep until her return. We will take rest while we can, assuming there’s any to be had under this light-forsaken roof. I will find you in the morning.” She did not seek permission, but she did pause long enough to assess resistance. He played at nobility, or had been born to it. Either way she hoped he was astute enough to see and accept the sense in it.
“What I noticed,” she corrected dryly, “is that this morning you claimed a need for suitable allies before you acted. Something has changed since I left, for you to now take the risk of making such a visible play.” Even the objects purloined from the Black Tower’s stores did not offer enough of a resource to warrant revealing himself. Not even for the sake of pride. And certainly not for the sake of their protection. Yet he hadn’t mentioned Elsae, for all his earlier outbursts concerning Talin’s creative interpretation of the bargain they’d made. What that actually meant she was not wholly convinced she wanted to know, especially given Talin’s absence, but neither did the directness of her attention break hold. She did not ask. She wanted to know what, if anything, he would offer. He clearly liked the sound of his own voice.
“If you truly believed that you would have done it. I doubt I could have stopped you.” The rest was given with a feigned shrug, though a life was hardly a casual topic. If he had killed the Dedicated, their fragile alliance would have frayed its very edges. But she believed he understood it would have been a betrayal unworthy of the gain. If Nythadri willingly cast a shadow upon her own soul in accepting this truce, she would not see the path of it strewn with needless bodies. Neither had she forgotten the way he had shaken at Talin’s arm though; the words that had spilled from his mouth. As he examined Jai like a shiny new tool, and she felt her ire rising at the casual needling, she studied Arikan with unhidden calculation in return.
She had a dozen and more questions about immediate plans. Nythadri never pledged by half measures, and if she found it reckless in herself, she could blinker her thoughts from the horror in favour of a cause. To that end she considered taking the seat offered and allowing events to transpire as they may. Alone, she would have, despite her own exhaustion. She wanted answers, and she had the gall to demand them, even of a dreadlord. But she felt every tension in Jai’s grip, both as subtle and insistent as the strings of her violin; felt too the instant of relief when Arikan must have acquiesced and released the shield, moments before he raked a bloodied hand through his hair. It settled a resolve. She would not allow a questioning at Arikan’s hands, nor at his witness. Not because she suspected his method; in a startling human affectation, Arikan seemed both genuine and curious in his awe, and Jai had no reason to withhold any answers such as he knew, and certainly not with her own prompting. She would not allow it because she understood the pain unravelling the truth of his Compulsion and its consequences would cause him. Privacy was the best balm she could offer to such an injury.
“She’s a Yellow Sister,” she said in answer to Jai’s question. “She’s the one who brought me here, and she has a lot to bloody well answer for.” If Talin were in the fort, she would have felt both saidar-wrought gates, and Nythadri couldn’t fathom a reason she’d keep her distance. Nor did she have any notion of where the woman might have gone. Surprisingly she cast no suspicion on Arikan despite his smugly evasive response. The manner in which they’d interacted earlier suggested some kind of earned trust between them, even if neither would call it such. Her absence was a frustration though, not least upon the strain thinning what was left of Nythadri’s patience for the mystery. “Light send we have no need of her, then,” she muttered.
Her gaze finally caught on Jai’s, and stayed there. She didn’t have enough in the way of answers for either of them, nor any desire to withhold the things she did know. Arikan’s aid was not without cost, and Nythadri had spent the coin for them both in desperation. She didn’t regret it, whatever future it consigned, only that he did not yet know it, and she did not enjoy the shape of that secret. She acknowledged unspoken the search of his gaze, and her thumb grazed the inside of his wrist. She would not lean on blind patience and trust, both undeserved in the moment, though she knew he would give them without question.
After a moment Nythadri’s attention returned to Arikan. “The news will keep until her return. We will take rest while we can, assuming there’s any to be had under this light-forsaken roof. I will find you in the morning.” She did not seek permission, but she did pause long enough to assess resistance. He played at nobility, or had been born to it. Either way she hoped he was astute enough to see and accept the sense in it.