09-18-2016, 11:19 AM
Jai looked immeasurably confused, and then unexpected darkness rushed into his expression. An awareness flicked back over her words, seeking the source of a frown so intense and a gaze so searching. Doesn’t he realise how easy it is to circulate a room full of people and find enough answers to talk like I know what I’m on about? He was aware of the Game – painfully aware by the looks of it – but he couldn’t see it like she did. What was darkness and shadows and subterfuge to most people was strings and light to Nythadri, sometimes as clear as the threads of saidar. She didn’t break the defiance of her gaze, though there was a tinge of fear caressing the edges of her mind. Doubts.
He hadn’t understood the dance with Nisele, that was clear, but she had guessed as much even before she had made the decision to acquiesce the older woman. And that glance to her ring suggested a lack of trust; that perhaps building tenuous foundations with Nisele had collapsed whatever judgements Jai had made to dust and rubble. And what does his opinion matter anyway? Old defiance stirred, but with it flooded an unusual rush of frustration. She was well acquainted to being misconstrued and rarely felt the need to clarify herself in even the direst of misunderstandings. But his quickness to judge burned a deep offence before she caught the net of emotions, the barest flash in her eyes that suggested he would have a battle on his hands if he thought he was going to cast her aside on account of Nisele.
Then his attention began to wane and she was very close to standing and leaving him there alone. She thought she had been ready for a number of eventualities, but the sudden schism of his behaviour only echoed Tamal’s whispers with increasing intensity. I need some air. I need some bloody air. Only he leaned in and clamped a hand on hers before she could shift. Her first thought was alarm. But the warmth of his palm travelled heat up her arm; a hand she had dubbed as belonging to a killer, and even now she found beauty in the terror, the contrast of tan skin and white, the softness of a touch only meant as a move in a game. She understood the gesture, and did not snatch her hand away despite the strong desire to do just that. The look in her eye was dangerous, but it faded to cool when he explained himself.
A ward? Nothing had changed to her senses. It didn’t seem possible, though in retrospect she recognised the signs in his face and movements that she had initially mistaken for mania. But why was it necessary? Because he’s tainted, he’s paranoid, he’s delusional. The seeds burrowed deep, and Jai did little to convince her otherwise, though if he was trying to distract her he was doing a good job. He leaned close enough to momentarily soothe her doubts, even if the words marked this as an elaborate performance. She might have lost herself a little in the illusion, if he had not divulged Daryen’s plans.
The Seanchan? Confusion, disgust, disbelief. What, exactly, were the terms of that going to be? Her instinct was to keep her face neutral, but beneath that was an undeniable desire to let him understand that she hadn’t known. Only he was still talking and - was it necessary to touch her like that? There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the space between them, and the dark glaze of his eyes was intoxicating. Over the rising thump of her heart, she had to physically remind herself it was a game – that the way he smoothed her hair, tracing a line down her neck, was for the benefit of idle spectators, not for her. She wondered if he had any idea how cruel it was to toy with her like that, and if he paid any attention to the gaze locking his, he might notice the faint traces of ice promising future retribution. Especially if Liridia had noticed any of that exchange.
If she was warm before she was boiling now, her heart beating an ardent rhythm in her chest. For a moment the Game had silenced, and it took her a moment longer than usual to digest what he had said. A few things became clear in a dismaying way; Jai’s words revealed not only a warning in Tamal’s words, but a threat. The Asha’man had used caution now, but how well known was his disagreement with the king? The servants hear him raging. So he had a target painted on his back, but only if he made a spectacle of himself. She hoped to see control, but all she saw was the hunger of a man resolute to see his cause to the end, whatever the cost.
She wouldn’t follow a pretty face to the cliff edge, and jump. Probably.
It crossed her mind to warn him, but she wasn’t convinced he could handle talk of a conspiracy against him. Plus he didn’t trust her. He might accuse her of playing games; and at worst, she might inadvertently accomplish Imaad Suaya’s goals for him. After all, what evidence did she even have but a series of puzzle pieces that just clicked? Then I’ll have to speak to the man. If he didn’t seek her out first, which she suspected he might. Playing both sides of the coin would be dangerous, but she had to assure herself that she was not wrong – particularly if she chose to do anything about it, if anything even needed to be done. Jai certainly wasn’t a pawn to be moved about a board.
He was, in fact, the most dangerous kind of player; one intelligent enough to see the devilry around him, but without the finesse to see it clearly (or so her opinion was at this time). If she was not careful with her dabbling he would judge her duplicitous, but if she sided with him publicly she would lose all advantage with Imaad - and might even find herself caught in the cross-fire. Blood. And. Ashes. Too late to retreat now; she’d jumped into the river without realising how it raged, and now her only option was to keep swimming.
‘Do you have ghosts, Nythadri?’ The words came with a chill, drawing her attention to hollowed eyes. She didn’t answer, though her brother’s face swam in a sea of blood. Hardly a drop in the ocean confronted with the gravity of Jai’s expression and the images it conjured. How many women have you killed? She watched him for a long time. If he wanted pity he had implored the wrong woman, but she did not think he would expect it from her. Light she hoped it was a calculated decision to reveal such ugly demons, because the Creator preserve him if Suaya’s lot ever found themselves enlightened with such information. It would take less than a heart-beat to ruin him. Suddenly the ward did seem necessary.
“Winds reaching the Tower say the Blight is stirring, and even Andor’s lions are listening to the call. Maybe he should be looking north, rather than making questionable bedfellows.”
Not the strongest of arsenals; this far south, the touch of the Dark One’s creatures was like a children’s tale: too distant to make any real impact. And of course there were two sides to that argument anyway; a single enemy was better than two, and the Seanchan posed the more immediate threat to this part of the world. It was a cause to lend his disagreement credence, anyway, rather than an argument of pure irrational emotion. Perhaps he could find use of it.
Brief advice offered, she considered what she actually thought of the idea. A Grey might consider the merits to the people, and to the Tower. But what would a peace-treaty really mean to a nation with such foreign standards? Truce or no truce, while they still collared channelers, they were an enemy. For someone usually so apathetic, her reaction was resolute. She almost bit back her next words, considering the close relationship between the man in front of her and the king she was about to disparage, but the dry insult slipped out. “He’s either brave or foolish, considering how he won his throne.”
Negotiations with the Seanchan had certainly not gone well for his predecessor.
Again she fell to limp silence, mostly because he looked so grave in his black uniform and with such a weighty expression. She wouldn’t prod his past; she wouldn’t judge his reasoning. He’d offered her the most intimate form of transparency and she didn’t understand why. Maybe he’s a better player than I thought? The Game was tangling in her mind, and self-loathing rose like bile. She had to find a balance, and grasp it tight or it would swallow her. Light but this room was too hot, and the buzz of numerous conversations too loud. Her eyes closed briefly, her face tilting away. "So that's why you left."
And Fate had engineered his path back? And perhaps he even might conceive to think that their meeting in the front hall had not been accidental, either.
"I know you don't trust me. Or you're not sure, at least."
Said without accusation, as bald a fact as her previous statement. "I grew up in the courts of Caemlyn - a proper Lady in title if little else. But daes dae'mar is like fumes, it seeps in even when you try to avoid it... and sometimes the Creator gives you gifts you'd rather give back."
It's in my blood. "I hated that life, still do; I understand the need to run."
She found she was twisting the serpent ring round and round with her thumb. And how many times had she regretted this life? But she had made oaths she would not break, and she thought he would understand that. "But I also understand duty."
- and why he had walked back through that Gate. She shrugged, leaning back. It was rare she offered anything of herself. She had told Tamal precisely because she wanted him to know she could play the Game but that she had no interest, at the time insistent to the idea of staying away from the fracas. She told Jai to offer a foothold in the ice, that he might understand she was not against him. "Light I could use some air,"
the words murmured, her hand slipping out from under his. She would ask him what he planned to do about Daryen, but later. Right now she wanted distance, to pull herself back from the precipice.
He hadn’t understood the dance with Nisele, that was clear, but she had guessed as much even before she had made the decision to acquiesce the older woman. And that glance to her ring suggested a lack of trust; that perhaps building tenuous foundations with Nisele had collapsed whatever judgements Jai had made to dust and rubble. And what does his opinion matter anyway? Old defiance stirred, but with it flooded an unusual rush of frustration. She was well acquainted to being misconstrued and rarely felt the need to clarify herself in even the direst of misunderstandings. But his quickness to judge burned a deep offence before she caught the net of emotions, the barest flash in her eyes that suggested he would have a battle on his hands if he thought he was going to cast her aside on account of Nisele.
Then his attention began to wane and she was very close to standing and leaving him there alone. She thought she had been ready for a number of eventualities, but the sudden schism of his behaviour only echoed Tamal’s whispers with increasing intensity. I need some air. I need some bloody air. Only he leaned in and clamped a hand on hers before she could shift. Her first thought was alarm. But the warmth of his palm travelled heat up her arm; a hand she had dubbed as belonging to a killer, and even now she found beauty in the terror, the contrast of tan skin and white, the softness of a touch only meant as a move in a game. She understood the gesture, and did not snatch her hand away despite the strong desire to do just that. The look in her eye was dangerous, but it faded to cool when he explained himself.
A ward? Nothing had changed to her senses. It didn’t seem possible, though in retrospect she recognised the signs in his face and movements that she had initially mistaken for mania. But why was it necessary? Because he’s tainted, he’s paranoid, he’s delusional. The seeds burrowed deep, and Jai did little to convince her otherwise, though if he was trying to distract her he was doing a good job. He leaned close enough to momentarily soothe her doubts, even if the words marked this as an elaborate performance. She might have lost herself a little in the illusion, if he had not divulged Daryen’s plans.
The Seanchan? Confusion, disgust, disbelief. What, exactly, were the terms of that going to be? Her instinct was to keep her face neutral, but beneath that was an undeniable desire to let him understand that she hadn’t known. Only he was still talking and - was it necessary to touch her like that? There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the space between them, and the dark glaze of his eyes was intoxicating. Over the rising thump of her heart, she had to physically remind herself it was a game – that the way he smoothed her hair, tracing a line down her neck, was for the benefit of idle spectators, not for her. She wondered if he had any idea how cruel it was to toy with her like that, and if he paid any attention to the gaze locking his, he might notice the faint traces of ice promising future retribution. Especially if Liridia had noticed any of that exchange.
If she was warm before she was boiling now, her heart beating an ardent rhythm in her chest. For a moment the Game had silenced, and it took her a moment longer than usual to digest what he had said. A few things became clear in a dismaying way; Jai’s words revealed not only a warning in Tamal’s words, but a threat. The Asha’man had used caution now, but how well known was his disagreement with the king? The servants hear him raging. So he had a target painted on his back, but only if he made a spectacle of himself. She hoped to see control, but all she saw was the hunger of a man resolute to see his cause to the end, whatever the cost.
She wouldn’t follow a pretty face to the cliff edge, and jump. Probably.
It crossed her mind to warn him, but she wasn’t convinced he could handle talk of a conspiracy against him. Plus he didn’t trust her. He might accuse her of playing games; and at worst, she might inadvertently accomplish Imaad Suaya’s goals for him. After all, what evidence did she even have but a series of puzzle pieces that just clicked? Then I’ll have to speak to the man. If he didn’t seek her out first, which she suspected he might. Playing both sides of the coin would be dangerous, but she had to assure herself that she was not wrong – particularly if she chose to do anything about it, if anything even needed to be done. Jai certainly wasn’t a pawn to be moved about a board.
He was, in fact, the most dangerous kind of player; one intelligent enough to see the devilry around him, but without the finesse to see it clearly (or so her opinion was at this time). If she was not careful with her dabbling he would judge her duplicitous, but if she sided with him publicly she would lose all advantage with Imaad - and might even find herself caught in the cross-fire. Blood. And. Ashes. Too late to retreat now; she’d jumped into the river without realising how it raged, and now her only option was to keep swimming.
‘Do you have ghosts, Nythadri?’ The words came with a chill, drawing her attention to hollowed eyes. She didn’t answer, though her brother’s face swam in a sea of blood. Hardly a drop in the ocean confronted with the gravity of Jai’s expression and the images it conjured. How many women have you killed? She watched him for a long time. If he wanted pity he had implored the wrong woman, but she did not think he would expect it from her. Light she hoped it was a calculated decision to reveal such ugly demons, because the Creator preserve him if Suaya’s lot ever found themselves enlightened with such information. It would take less than a heart-beat to ruin him. Suddenly the ward did seem necessary.
“Winds reaching the Tower say the Blight is stirring, and even Andor’s lions are listening to the call. Maybe he should be looking north, rather than making questionable bedfellows.”
Not the strongest of arsenals; this far south, the touch of the Dark One’s creatures was like a children’s tale: too distant to make any real impact. And of course there were two sides to that argument anyway; a single enemy was better than two, and the Seanchan posed the more immediate threat to this part of the world. It was a cause to lend his disagreement credence, anyway, rather than an argument of pure irrational emotion. Perhaps he could find use of it.
Brief advice offered, she considered what she actually thought of the idea. A Grey might consider the merits to the people, and to the Tower. But what would a peace-treaty really mean to a nation with such foreign standards? Truce or no truce, while they still collared channelers, they were an enemy. For someone usually so apathetic, her reaction was resolute. She almost bit back her next words, considering the close relationship between the man in front of her and the king she was about to disparage, but the dry insult slipped out. “He’s either brave or foolish, considering how he won his throne.”
Negotiations with the Seanchan had certainly not gone well for his predecessor.
Again she fell to limp silence, mostly because he looked so grave in his black uniform and with such a weighty expression. She wouldn’t prod his past; she wouldn’t judge his reasoning. He’d offered her the most intimate form of transparency and she didn’t understand why. Maybe he’s a better player than I thought? The Game was tangling in her mind, and self-loathing rose like bile. She had to find a balance, and grasp it tight or it would swallow her. Light but this room was too hot, and the buzz of numerous conversations too loud. Her eyes closed briefly, her face tilting away. "So that's why you left."
And Fate had engineered his path back? And perhaps he even might conceive to think that their meeting in the front hall had not been accidental, either.
"I know you don't trust me. Or you're not sure, at least."
Said without accusation, as bald a fact as her previous statement. "I grew up in the courts of Caemlyn - a proper Lady in title if little else. But daes dae'mar is like fumes, it seeps in even when you try to avoid it... and sometimes the Creator gives you gifts you'd rather give back."
It's in my blood. "I hated that life, still do; I understand the need to run."
She found she was twisting the serpent ring round and round with her thumb. And how many times had she regretted this life? But she had made oaths she would not break, and she thought he would understand that. "But I also understand duty."
- and why he had walked back through that Gate. She shrugged, leaning back. It was rare she offered anything of herself. She had told Tamal precisely because she wanted him to know she could play the Game but that she had no interest, at the time insistent to the idea of staying away from the fracas. She told Jai to offer a foothold in the ice, that he might understand she was not against him. "Light I could use some air,"
the words murmured, her hand slipping out from under his. She would ask him what he planned to do about Daryen, but later. Right now she wanted distance, to pull herself back from the precipice.