08-10-2023, 07:05 PM
Her gaze lifted as she watched him rise from the water. The breath quickened in her lungs, and if it was a wicked torment, it was a moment she lingered in without regret. The dim light shrouded a devilish temptation, water droplets following the lines of muscle where once fingertips had roamed. He was slow about it, and she didn’t mind in the slightest. Probably fortunate he did not look back, though, for the heated way in which her attention followed him then.
Jai was quiet for a long time. For now Nythadri only leaned back into the warm water, less careful of the space she filled now he brokered distance between them.
“You’re so bloody stubborn,” she said when he finally turned to look at her. Accusation bit the tone, but a small smirk lifted her lips, and she laughed a little. Of course she chose that moment to push herself up into shadows and firelight. Water sluiced, and hair spilled like ink across skin. She didn’t hazard a guess as to whether he would watch as she had, or if hard-won honour would snap his attention back to the flames before his resolve flattened.
“They don’t test us in the field; they use a ter’angreal to do it,” she said as she gathered one of the towels and pressed it to her. “Pull out all our fears and desires and regrets. It feels real. Some women never come out once they go in. In the Tower it’s considered crass to talk about, even amongst ourselves – of the things we must do to prove our devotion and earn that ring.” She didn’t elaborate, though only because it wasn’t the reason she shared. He knew enough of her by now to guess at some of it; more than anyone else anyway. She spoke because of the way he had lingered upon the marks of their station, glinting where she had left the small pile on the sideboard by the basin. Nythadri knew she could never fully understand what the pins meant to him. The identity he carved from them like salvation, and clung to even when it cut him open. To her the ring was a necessary step to freedom; or the illusion anyway, for there had been little enough of that these past weeks so as to dispel the myth. But it was a jailor too, fought with stubborn tenacity for every way it had tried to mould her in its image. The difference being, saidar had never tried to unpluck from her the roots of her sanity. She had never needed that anchor.
She squeezed the weight of water from her hair as she walked. A robe draped over a chair, left in haste only that morning before she’d dressed and Talin collected her. A lifetime had passed since then; the kind of shift that marked beginnings and endings, though for now her thoughts remained blessedly quiet; fixed only in the moment, and the man sharing it with her. She shouldered the robe over still-damp skin, untucked the lay of curls where they stuck at her neck. “The second test is about competency. The most convoluted, complex and utterly useless set of weaves you’ve seen in your life – one hundred of them. Practising amongst the Accepted gets a little sadistic, actually. We know we’ll be distracted. But they don’t warn us they use a ter’angreal for that too.”
She joined him at the hearth while she pulled the tie snug about her waist. The warmth from the flames burned with a pleasant sort of lethargy, and it was almost easy to forget where they were. Dawn would bring reality, but for now the world was a smaller place. Her heart fluttered for all sorts of reasons, looking up at the mask duty made of his expression. Nothing shielded her own. She wasn't hesitant, only marking the moment into memory.
“What I mean is,” she repeated back to him, a little sly for his density. Her fingers brushed his. “That I’m offering you my bond, and we'll deal with it together.”
Jai was quiet for a long time. For now Nythadri only leaned back into the warm water, less careful of the space she filled now he brokered distance between them.
“You’re so bloody stubborn,” she said when he finally turned to look at her. Accusation bit the tone, but a small smirk lifted her lips, and she laughed a little. Of course she chose that moment to push herself up into shadows and firelight. Water sluiced, and hair spilled like ink across skin. She didn’t hazard a guess as to whether he would watch as she had, or if hard-won honour would snap his attention back to the flames before his resolve flattened.
“They don’t test us in the field; they use a ter’angreal to do it,” she said as she gathered one of the towels and pressed it to her. “Pull out all our fears and desires and regrets. It feels real. Some women never come out once they go in. In the Tower it’s considered crass to talk about, even amongst ourselves – of the things we must do to prove our devotion and earn that ring.” She didn’t elaborate, though only because it wasn’t the reason she shared. He knew enough of her by now to guess at some of it; more than anyone else anyway. She spoke because of the way he had lingered upon the marks of their station, glinting where she had left the small pile on the sideboard by the basin. Nythadri knew she could never fully understand what the pins meant to him. The identity he carved from them like salvation, and clung to even when it cut him open. To her the ring was a necessary step to freedom; or the illusion anyway, for there had been little enough of that these past weeks so as to dispel the myth. But it was a jailor too, fought with stubborn tenacity for every way it had tried to mould her in its image. The difference being, saidar had never tried to unpluck from her the roots of her sanity. She had never needed that anchor.
She squeezed the weight of water from her hair as she walked. A robe draped over a chair, left in haste only that morning before she’d dressed and Talin collected her. A lifetime had passed since then; the kind of shift that marked beginnings and endings, though for now her thoughts remained blessedly quiet; fixed only in the moment, and the man sharing it with her. She shouldered the robe over still-damp skin, untucked the lay of curls where they stuck at her neck. “The second test is about competency. The most convoluted, complex and utterly useless set of weaves you’ve seen in your life – one hundred of them. Practising amongst the Accepted gets a little sadistic, actually. We know we’ll be distracted. But they don’t warn us they use a ter’angreal for that too.”
She joined him at the hearth while she pulled the tie snug about her waist. The warmth from the flames burned with a pleasant sort of lethargy, and it was almost easy to forget where they were. Dawn would bring reality, but for now the world was a smaller place. Her heart fluttered for all sorts of reasons, looking up at the mask duty made of his expression. Nothing shielded her own. She wasn't hesitant, only marking the moment into memory.
“What I mean is,” she repeated back to him, a little sly for his density. Her fingers brushed his. “That I’m offering you my bond, and we'll deal with it together.”