10-23-2019, 01:18 AM
One thing was clear. Nythadri could keep an eye out for herself. Jai had no doubt. Even when he threw a roulette of daggers her way. Over and bloody over again. Odds were she'd be fine. Odds which improved the second Jai walked out of her life - and out of her bedroom. Chances were, Nythadri would meet no confrontation at the banking house. Her family's money would be transferred to a competing institution in the city. Which was a shame, really. Zakar was a dick, but he was an excellent executive. No bank in Tar Valon shone bigger and brighter than theirs. Nythadri would finish whatever she needed to finish to become Aes Sedai. Then she would get herself some legend of a warder. The bastard would tuck her away someplace safe, ride out the Last Battle, and afterward she could be the grace that picked up a broken world and glued it back together again. The probabilities in her future sang rich notes of sure beauty. Fate itself would see her through to whatever the Creator had in mind for her, and they were unlikely to cross paths again. Those were the odds which rattled dice in his head. Problem was, walking away was a strategy he'd already tried--and failed--and chance couldn't be beaten. Unless a guy changed the game.
He welcomed that wicked grin. So completely glad to no longer be teased by smirks and flickers. That grin snaked its way under his skin and riled something lose. Talk about toying with fate. Especially with her palms cupping his face close to hers. The meager light of a saidin wrought flame reflected an ocean of color across her eyes. The same color that stole his breath when he first saw her; one a man could lose himself in. The same color of the Aryth at midday, something he had lost himself in, bloody more than once. Not surprising though. The ocean was, you know, kind of amazing.
His chest pounded, both pained and relieved when space opened up between them. Light! How much temptation could one guy resist? At least she stayed close.
“That was a terrible promise on your part,” he shook his head. But the curtain of disappointment couldn't cover the theatrics from his expression. “Luckily,” he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and watched the way his finger trailed down the slope of her neck, light as a whisper on her throat, across the line of her collar and settle against her chest. Where he tapped a couple thuds above her heart. “-I know what
you meant.”
Which was good enough for him.
He hungrily pulled her close. Blood and ashes. He bloody loved the way she sank in his arms. The stress between them every waking moment--imagined, playful, or all too real--heightened the victorious moments of peace. He strung tight fingers through her hair. Gripped her narrow shoulders like he were hanging on. The heat of passion was neither surprising nor new but Jai couldn't recall being so isolated by it before. They might as well have been in the Aryth again--though there would be decidedly fewer clothes involved--or on the cliffs above a dark beach. The paroxysm shaking the world dissolved until nothing remained but the sounds of her breaths, the grip of her hands and the taste of her eagerness. Blood and bloody ashes--the paradoxical puzzle of her spirit killed, perplexed, and mesmerized him all at the same time. And was all the more thrilling because he had the chance to figure her out. He never would. But then again, she was going to let him try when he was sure she'd never offer another man an equal chance. Light, he loved that.
He did not want to step away. So Jai took his time about it. There was little fear to reveal such vulnerability. Not when Nythadri knew every weakness holding him prisoner. Or most of them at least. He showed it well, all he felt for her, being not discouraged by her reaction. But tenderness was colored with dramatic passion, as usual.
He didn't release her so easily. Instead, Jai held her quietly for a few moments, arms wrapped around her neck, while the last things she said pricked his mind. I won't hold you to promises you can't keep. She didn't understand that he would find a way. But yeah. Anything.
When ready to resurrect the reality of the world, he looked upon her with the soft calm before the storm of channeling. He needed to remember the color of her eyes and the curve of her taunting expression.
“I should go,” he admitted.
”I need some bloody socks before I go crazy.” His grin swept the drama of parting aside. A resolved sigh and the hollow focus of channeling clouded him once more. The air ripped to reveal a small, empty room; walls unadorned, but the warmth of the west unmistakable. Two steps and he trod two-thousand miles, and Nythadri would see Jai turn a sharp study off toward the side. The contemplation held him a moment before he looked back upon her. A wink and a playful, flourishing bow followed, “Anything, My Lady,” and the gate closed, vow hanging in the air.
He welcomed that wicked grin. So completely glad to no longer be teased by smirks and flickers. That grin snaked its way under his skin and riled something lose. Talk about toying with fate. Especially with her palms cupping his face close to hers. The meager light of a saidin wrought flame reflected an ocean of color across her eyes. The same color that stole his breath when he first saw her; one a man could lose himself in. The same color of the Aryth at midday, something he had lost himself in, bloody more than once. Not surprising though. The ocean was, you know, kind of amazing.
His chest pounded, both pained and relieved when space opened up between them. Light! How much temptation could one guy resist? At least she stayed close.
“That was a terrible promise on your part,” he shook his head. But the curtain of disappointment couldn't cover the theatrics from his expression. “Luckily,” he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and watched the way his finger trailed down the slope of her neck, light as a whisper on her throat, across the line of her collar and settle against her chest. Where he tapped a couple thuds above her heart. “-I know what
you meant.”
Which was good enough for him.
He hungrily pulled her close. Blood and ashes. He bloody loved the way she sank in his arms. The stress between them every waking moment--imagined, playful, or all too real--heightened the victorious moments of peace. He strung tight fingers through her hair. Gripped her narrow shoulders like he were hanging on. The heat of passion was neither surprising nor new but Jai couldn't recall being so isolated by it before. They might as well have been in the Aryth again--though there would be decidedly fewer clothes involved--or on the cliffs above a dark beach. The paroxysm shaking the world dissolved until nothing remained but the sounds of her breaths, the grip of her hands and the taste of her eagerness. Blood and bloody ashes--the paradoxical puzzle of her spirit killed, perplexed, and mesmerized him all at the same time. And was all the more thrilling because he had the chance to figure her out. He never would. But then again, she was going to let him try when he was sure she'd never offer another man an equal chance. Light, he loved that.
He did not want to step away. So Jai took his time about it. There was little fear to reveal such vulnerability. Not when Nythadri knew every weakness holding him prisoner. Or most of them at least. He showed it well, all he felt for her, being not discouraged by her reaction. But tenderness was colored with dramatic passion, as usual.
He didn't release her so easily. Instead, Jai held her quietly for a few moments, arms wrapped around her neck, while the last things she said pricked his mind. I won't hold you to promises you can't keep. She didn't understand that he would find a way. But yeah. Anything.
When ready to resurrect the reality of the world, he looked upon her with the soft calm before the storm of channeling. He needed to remember the color of her eyes and the curve of her taunting expression.
“I should go,” he admitted.
”I need some bloody socks before I go crazy.” His grin swept the drama of parting aside. A resolved sigh and the hollow focus of channeling clouded him once more. The air ripped to reveal a small, empty room; walls unadorned, but the warmth of the west unmistakable. Two steps and he trod two-thousand miles, and Nythadri would see Jai turn a sharp study off toward the side. The contemplation held him a moment before he looked back upon her. A wink and a playful, flourishing bow followed, “Anything, My Lady,” and the gate closed, vow hanging in the air.
Only darkness shows you the light.