Chapter Text
Storm it—!
Kaladin grunted between gritted teeth as he braced himself against the outer walls of Urithiru. Syl zipped frantically around him, clearly desperate to help, but powerless for the time being. The flashes of blue around his head, combined with the merciless whipping of the wind, were starting to make him dizzy. Not a good thing to be while this high up.
His boot slipped again, though he quickly caught it on a jutting stone. He was running out of time. The broken spear shaft he had bound against the wall was quickly draining of light, the plummet below mocking him. Kaladin held on for dear life, his head spinning as he tried to regain his footing on the stone, desperate for one last push of strength or luck. It didn’t matter. The light slipped away from the base of the spear, the wood once again becoming dull, and the aching weight of gravity began to pull him down. Kaladin tried to turn, to press his back against the wall, anything—but it was pointless. His heart sank in his ribcage as his boots scraped against the wall, slipping, falling, failing…
No…!
Just as Kaladin had begun to prepare for his imminent demise, eyes squeezed shut, a sharp grip seized the back of his shirt. With shocking strength, he was yanked off of the crumbling stone and swung in through an open window. The sharp pain of nails dug into his back, then released, as the violent rush of wind around him suddenly seemed so far away - the awful howling now replaced by the quiet of the room he now found himself thrown into.
Alive. He was alive. No time to think about that. It took him only a second to adjust, having been unceremoniously dumped onto the carpet; Kaladin instinctively kicked his foot behind him to scramble around into a fighting stance. He gripped the broken remnant of a spear, the only weapon he had left. Storms - his eyes were still too blurry to see. He furrowed his brow, panting heavily, the shaft of splintered wood pointed at his rescuer and possible enemy.
But there was no motion of attack. No furious crack of lightning through his bones. The blurry figure stepped back, the rare marbled white, black, and red skin becoming visible to Kaladin as he rubbed the cold from his eyes. Now he understood why he hadn’t been attacked yet. His familiar savior stood tall above him, looking down with an inquisitive rhythm humming from her throat.
“Leshwi.” Kaladin breathed out. He dropped the makeshift weapon to his side, settling back up to his feet and letting himself relax. She wouldn’t kill him - not without him agreeing to it first, anyway. Still, he stayed wary. His eyes quickly darted around the room. Was she the only one here? Did she have any guards? Where were the other Heavenly Ones?
“We’re alone, Stormblessed.” Leshwi answered his unspoken question. Her tone steadily changed to one that reminded Kaladin of a mother soothing a child—pacifying. Pointedly calming. It didn’t exactly help, but the effort was recognized anyway. She could be plenty threatening on her own if she wanted to be.
“I can’t fight you,” He began to argue, keeping his back to the wall and glancing back at the now-closed window she pulled him through. “I have no spear. It wouldn’t be—“
“Be quiet. I am not demanding a duel.” She cut him off, shimmering red eyes flicking towards the door. Her voice was low, and she switched to a warning rhythm as she held up a clawed hand. Kaladin swallowed, suddenly aware of how loud he’d been speaking. Did he immediately doom himself? They stayed silent for a moment, watching the door in unison.
Nothing came. Leshwi’s rhythm changed, easing up, and she looked back at him. Kaladin nearly jumped as she moved towards him, instinctively jolting out of her range, breath hitched. She didn’t seem to notice. She disregarded him and raised her arms to pull the wooden shutters of the window closed, silencing the deadly howls of the wind outside. Her red, flowing robes draped across the floor as she then went to the door, standing with her hand against it for a moment before turning back to him again.
He felt foolish, back to the wall, hackles raised like a frightened mink.
“So you are awake. I had hoped so.” She finally spoke, and Kaladin regarded her, breath heavy in his chest. It wasn’t.. not nice to see her. He’d noticed this weeks earlier, during their last encounter, but she looked different this time around. Her patterned marbling was the same, he had long since memorized that—but her shoulders were broader, her hands a bit larger, face longer and sharper. She was certainly no less elegant, of course, but the form she was in didn’t seem to be a war-related one. So why did she look so different?
Leaning with exhaustion against the window, he let out a shuddering sigh, shaking himself from his idle thoughts. Far more important things to be focusing on at the moment.
“Why did you—“ Kaladin choked down a cough. Storms, he felt feverish. “Why save me? Aren’t you all under strict orders to .. you know, kill on sight?” He almost would have laughed, if the situation didn’t feel so grave.
She let out a huff through her nose. “To kill a fevered man, shaking and desperate, clinging to the walls of an occupied city? You should know by now I would never commit such an affront to honor.” Leshwi eyed him, an expression close to bemusement on her features.
Kaladin bit back an argument. He wasn’t desperate. Or shaking. Except that he was. He just wasn’t keen on anyone noticing that.
“What do you intend to do with me, then?” He asked after a moment of silent study, trying to place together his ragged thoughts. “Nurse me to health, provide me with arms before attempting to kill me?” He almost chuckled. Kaladin trusted her well enough to engage in a fair fight with him and his Windrunners, but what about when they were face-to-face like this, in such a desperate situation? The odds were clearly against him.
Crimson eyes looked down at him, studying his body like a diagram. Her humming sounded amused, as if that was some sort of answer. Would she really aid an enemy, go against command for what he could only assume were personal reasons? Kaladin searched her face, only finding a reflection of his own heart. If their positions were reversed, if he found her wounded and alone.. wouldn’t he?
“Sit, please.” Leshwi said at last, gesturing to the room. She must have claimed a lighteyed woman’s room, he guessed, from the lavish decoration. His heart churned for a moment, trying not to think of what had happened to its previous owner. It wasn’t a particularly large room, yet it contained the essentials for a common Brightlady - a sitting couch, a sizable bed, a writing desk, a rug - the sorts.
“I’ll have my attendant fetch you Stormlight.” Leshwi continued. “There is no need for worry. Neither she nor I have any interest in harm coming to you.” She nodded to the couch again, as if urging him to sit once more.
He eyed her cautiously, glancing between her and the couch. Kaladin was not eager to claim the lower hand, but Heralds above , he could use a break. His trembling legs gave way to proper sense, and after a brief hesitation, he sat lightly on the cushioned seats, trying not to sink too far into them. The sore muscles in his legs remained taut as he eased down, prepared to react at any given moment if needed, but his back groaned thankfully from the relief.
“I’ve always liked her,” Syl whispered in Kaladin’s ear, making herself known again. He watched from his seat as Leshwi dealt with a spanreed, clicking it in a certain rhythm, apparently to indicate something to the recipient. Kaladin frowned in response, frustrated by his limited options here, but it was nice to hear a bit of hope in Syl’s voice. He always had an easier time trusting someone when she did too.
When Leshwi finished, she turned back to him, her tall and lithe form towering over where he sat on the couch. He looked up, shoulders drooping slightly. He could only imagine the poor sight of the bags under his eyes.
She must be pitying me , Kaladin thought, letting out a pained breath. It was difficult, finding himself on unequal footing with her. He liked feeling so evenly matched, out there in the skies with her. Now he just felt.. small.
To his surprise, Leshwi sat down next to him. Kaladin swallowed tightly, scooting over to give her room, hands nervously gripping his legs. The couch dipped under her weight, and he craned his neck to look up at her, anxious. Leshwi, in turn, seemed to be studying him, eyes squinted just enough to give him that impression as she hummed a tune he didn’t recognize.
“What shall I do, indeed?” She murmured, and he noticed—not for the first time—how well-spoken her Alethi was. “Would you believe my motives are my own? That I have grown too fond of you to betray you to my superiors?”
His heartbeat quickened, suddenly feeling much more feverish. He forced himself to maintain a straight face, meeting her gaze steadily, despite how stupefied he felt. Kaladin shifted a bit, eyes lowering away from her and to the ground like a shamed axehound. He was fond of her too, Fused though she was, much more than one should be of their enemy. He, admittedly, had missed their regular battles since his retirement. There was just something about spotting her, brilliant and flame red, high above the ground. When they fought, it wasn’t just for blood, it was.. a dance . For just a moment, he wouldn’t be alone in the sky, like he always had been. They would share it. It belonged to them.
Leshwi finally looked away from him, towards the closed window, prompting Kaladin to raise his head again. “Odium’s gaze is far from here, now. He trusts Lady Raboniel to have control over this place.” She spoke softly, humming a rhythm that almost sounded mischievous. “And her gaze is turned upon your Queen. So as we are.. you are safe in my quarters.”
Kaladin, for all his cleverness, honestly didn’t know what to think. Could he really trust that she was trying to help him? Hearing her gentle song, he couldn’t help but let himself untense slightly more, eyes drooping with exhaustion. He was tired. So tired. Nearly all his defenses were lowered. If Leshwi wanted him dead, she would have done it by now.
So damnation, he trusted her. Regardless of all the trouble it could get him into.
Before he could respond, a mirthful tune came from Leshwi’s throat, and he glanced up to see what had caused her joy. Unsurprisingly, Syl had made herself visible, and was swirling about the Fused’s head. Kaladin opened his mouth in protest, but softly shut it upon seeing Leshwi’s delighted expression. Arguing was pointless when dealing with the Honorspren, anyway. Leshwi smiled with painted lips, raising a gentle hand for Syl to rest on.
“Hello, honored one.” She said politely. Syl beamed with pleasure.
“You’re really going to help Kaladin?” The girl asked as sat down upon the back of Leshwi’s hand, smoothing out her luminescent skirt. “You won’t tell on us?”
Leshwi shook her head, thick strands of hair slipping over her bare shoulders. “No harm shall come to you within my quarters. I cannot offer you protection outside this room, but you have my oath of security in here. Is that satisfactory to you, honored one?” Kaladin felt a tenderness tug at his heart, expression softening to see someone so gentle with his spren.
Syl, thrilled that she was being humored, nodded with her hand to her chin, looking performatively thoughtful. “Hmm... Yes, yes, this shall do, humble servant. Very good.” She gave Leshwi a big grin before streaking away into a line, presumably to check out the new saferoom. Leshwi smiled as she watched her go, lingering a moment on the pale blue light.
Kaladin glanced up at Leshwi as she stood up again, fabric piling at the floor around her as her rhythm became uncertain, her brow furrowing. “I do not know how long I will be able to provide shelter. These circumstances are… unique.” She stood still for a moment, then looked down to him and held out her hand. “Kaladin .. You should rest, in the meantime. I do not use this place’s bed often. Please, take it.”
Kaladin looked at her hand, tired eyes fixed on the marbling between her fingers. He could barely even consider her offer, guilt dragging him down. “I can’t, Leshwi, I need to keep moving, I…” He trailed off, feeling weariness start to overcome him as his jaw went slack.
Storm it all. She was right, and they both knew it. After a minute’s hesitation, he relented, taking her extended hand. He was surprised by the warm touch as she solidified their grip. She pulled him off the couch easily, as if he weighed nothing at all to her, and let his hand slip away from hers as she led him to the plush bed.
He couldn’t keep his mind from racing as he shuffled after her. Whose room was this? Did he know them? Were they safe? Kaladin wanted to stay awake, to keep pressing, keep worrying—but as smooth hands ushered him gently onto the mattress, he lost hold of his thoughts, the world beginning to grow dim and fuzzy. The only sound that remained was Leshwi’s gentle humming, each beat of the rhythm matching the slowed pounding of Kaladin’s heart.
“Rest, Stormblessed. By my honor, I will protect you.”
God. He was so, so tired. He tried to breathe, letting his eyes close. Teft would be okay. Navani would be okay. His parents, Oroden.. They would be okay. The song filled his head, easing him down, coaxing him to release it for now.
“Syl will hold you to that, you know..” Kaladin could only mumble out in an attempt at humor as he began to fall asleep, waving an idle hand at her. He heard Leshwi’s amused chuckle as stood over him, and a hand brushed over his head and through his curls, warm, and soft, and.. safe. Safe .
⊹₊⟡⋆
When Kaladin awoke, it was to the sound of the wind pounding against the window and a gentle song filling his head. A strange warmth surrounded him despite the creaking shutters, wrapping around his neck and covering his body. He couldn’t move. He was hardly breathing. His body still ached, his limbs too sore, and his eyes could barely peer open.
He cracked an eyelid anyway. White and crimson marble, still visible in the dim light, filled his limited vision. His cheek was pressed against cool skin, his arm rested over a drape of red fabric, and Kaladin became vaguely aware that he was lying with his head in Leshwi’s lap. The impression of her nails ran lightly through his hair, spreading waves of pleasant sensation down his spine, easing him towards peace.
How long had it been since he’d dreamed something so pleasant? When was the last time he hadn’t found himself lost in a nightmare, helpless to the screams that ripped his soul apart like an angry beast? Kaladin took the fantasy with gratitude, trying not to think of where his body really lay. No doubt lying crushed and broken at the base of the tower.
It didn’t matter. Exhaustion pulled him back down into the dark with a Lashing, and Kaladin returned to slumber, her beautiful, reverent song echoing in his ears. Nightmares be damned. For once, he would take a nice dream.
⊹₊⟡⋆
The second time Kaladin awoke, it was with a shuddering gasp, rough hands gripping the sheet in survival instinct. Stormlight flooded him suddenly with the sharp breath, alertness hitting him like a spearbutt to the head. He blinked a few times, fever draining away in an instant as he began to comprehend his surroundings. He was still in Leshwi’s room, although she herself was nowhere to be seen. He was almost surprised to be here. He really hadn’t died on the tower walls?
Kaladin sat up, the covers slipping off of him. A few half-lit spheres clinked against each other on the blanket as they rolled away, shifted by his movement. He glanced over, noticing the sound, and picked one up, rolling it between his fingers in momentary awe. She really had brought him Stormlight. His wounds and aches began to ease as the light filtered through his system, though significantly slower than he would have liked.
“Syl?” He called, setting the sphere down with the others and running a hand through his hair. A zip of blue light came from the cracked window in an instant, and Syl shifted into her usual girlish form, holding her hands behind her as she stood in the air facing him.
“Hey, you’re up! Leshwi was right; you did need to get some proper sleep.” She twirled around in the air, spinning on one foot and causing her dress to flutter. It seemed as though he wasn’t the only one feeling better. Thank the Stormfather.
“How long?” Kaladin croaked, panic suddenly rising in his throat as he remembered his mission. “How long was I asleep for?”
“Dunno.” Syl stopped her twirling to give him a shrug, sitting back down. “A couple hours. Leshwi came in and out. Oh, and her smaller friend came to the door—she brought the spheres. She’s nice, though.”
Kaladin hesitated, brow furrowed in thought, then let out a deep breath. He tried not to let it worry him. In the state he was before Leshwi pulled him in, he probably would have wasted the last few hours re-scaling Urithiru anyway. Better to instead spend it getting enough rest to keep him moving.
The door cracked open, and he instinctively leapt from the bed, wildly looking for a spear that wasn’t sure. Syl just folded her arms, not seeming worried. Leshwi floated in, and Kaladin breathed a sigh of relief, forcing himself to shake off the cold sweat that had run through him and standing back up.
“Did I wake you?” She asked, tilting her head with an inquisitive tone. In her hands, she held a bowl of something steaming, which Kaladin eyed as she pushed the door shut.
“No—no, sorry. I was up.”
Leshwi hummed something and came to land on the floor, padding back over to him with the bowl. It seemed to be some kind of hot grain, drizzled in oil that smelled of vegetables and spice. She handed it to him with a spoon, and Kaladin took it cautiously. He sat back down on the bed, suddenly aware of his horribly empty stomach as he stared at the meal.
“Thank you,” He said quietly, still wary of being in her debt, but not foolish enough to refuse. So he began to eat, the warm grain and strangely flavorful oil bringing him a fleeting sense of comfort. He wondered who made it. It didn’t seem like the meal of a Singer. Kaladin sent a quiet prayer of gratitude to whatever poor cook he was sure she had frightened this out of.
Leshwi sat next to him, watching him eat. Kaladin tried not to find it awkward, though he kept catching glimpses of the soft red glow of her gaze from the corner of his eye. After scarfing at least half of it down, he felt the need to break the silence, slowing his pace and lowering his bowl to his lap.
“Are you.. sure you’re alright with this?” He asked, turning his head to meet her eyes. “You know that as soon as I’m able to, I have to leave again.” His brow furrowed as he looked away, confliction on his features. “I can’t let Urithiru fall. I have to stop Raboniel. Maybe even kill her. I can’t risk that on a debt I owe to you.”
Leshwi said nothing. She turned away, her rhythm growing somber. Kaladin swallowed. Why was he suddenly so worried he had upset her?
He opened his mouth to speak. “Leshwi, I—“
She shook her head and held up her hand, cutting him off. “It is true. By harboring you I jeopardize my own loyalty and threaten Lady Raboniel’s plans.” Her rhythm became steady once more, and she regarded Kaladin with a certain softness. Heralds. Why did she always look at him like that?
“But that is my choice to make.” Leshwi continued, lowering her hand back to her lap. “What happens when you leave this place will become beyond my interference. I know this as well as you do. I can only hope you will accept an offer of refuge for the time being. I…” For the first time, to Kaladin’s shock, her voice faltered, and she swallowed before continuing her rhythm. “I do not wish to see you perish.”
“No?” Kaladin mused, tilting his chin up slightly at her. He chuckled and shook his head, against his better judgement. “You’ve landed a certain few hits before that suggested otherwise.”
Her rhythm shifted at that, an amused tune like laughter coming from her as she looked back at him. “Yes, well. You tend not to come back as easily as I do.” Was that a smile? He grinned back. Storms, she looked beautiful with an expression like that.
Kaladin became promptly aware that Syl’s eyes were bored directly on him. He quickly shoved another spoonful of grain into his mouth before she could make a comment, hoping to avoid acknowledging her knowing grin.
He continued eating in silence, Leshwi standing up to pull a book off a shelf and flipping through it. His eyes followed her idly as he chewed, noting again her broader shoulders and sharper jaw. She wasn’t in warform, no major carapace covering her body—so what explained the changes? He was no scholar, not by any means, but she just.. Interested him.
“Do you have a question?” Her bright red eyes suddenly flickered back over to him, and Kaladin jolted, swallowing his mouthful quickly. Storms, how could she tell?
“Um... Sort of.” He answered, finishing the last bite of his meal and setting the bowl on the side table. “What, uh.. form are you in?”
Her humming seemed to indicate that she was surprised by the question, and she shut the book, turning back to him.
“Meditationform.” Leshwi answered simply, although he didn’t really know what that meant. “Similar to Nimbleform. It allows for easier thoughtfulness. Perhaps that’s part of my reason for feeling so… empathetic.”
“It’s not for combat?” He asked, sitting forward with a confused look. “But you seem, um…“ Kaladin scrunched his brow, searching for the right word.
Leshwi’s rhythm went through a medley of changes in response, from confusion to understanding, then finally to a quiet tone that almost sounded sad to Kaladin. She paused a minute before speaking, as if trying to find the words. “My body is different from when last we met. That is true.”
“Oh.” He said. He continued watching her, hands folded in his lap, open but understanding. He tried to make it clear - she didn’t have to continue if she didn’t want to.
Leshwi sighed, running her nails along the shelf of books. “You are aware that each time I am called to return from Braize, a noble sacrifice is made to harbor my soul.” She folded her arms, turning her back to the shelf and resting against it, a pensive rhythm in her voice. “My original body, my soul, is femalen. So now, in a malen body, I am reminded once more that who I am.. who I was .. is something that has long since left this world.”
Leshwi closed her eyes, and Kaladin felt a surge of compassion for her. What must that be like, to know the body you were born into had long become ash? To lose all notion of your physical former self?
“I should be grateful.” She spoke quietly. “And yet, I feel uneasy with my body. Trapped in a form that is not mine, nor a proper representation of my soul. It is only my skin that reminds me who I am.” At that, she raised her arm, idly looking over the marbled pattern that ran down it.
Trapped in a body that you had to change to fit your soul? Well, Kaladin could at least understand that. He ran an idle hand across his chest in thought, feeling at long-faded scars across his torso. Funny, how he kept finding reflections of himself in her. They were so similar, in more ways than he had known.
“I…” He began, glancing over to where Syl was doing loops. “... I know what you mean. To feel... wrong.”
Her rhythm became questioning, and she opened her eyes to look at him, surprised. “You feel the same of your body?”
Kaladin chuckled. “No, I—I’m fine with it. Now.” He looked down at his calloused hand. Radiance had helped with that. He had always been a tall, broad-shouldered child, but becoming a soldier, and the addition of more masculine features as he swore his oaths suited him just fine. He rubbed at the beginnings of scruff on his chin, looking thoughtful. “Anyway.. I’m sorry for pointing it out. If it means anything, you look just as...”
Syl had paused, looking at him again with raised brows and a smile. Storming girl.
Kaladin coughed, pointedly ignoring her. “You look plenty feminine to me. Elegant. You always have.”
“..Ah.” Leshwi responded, something in her face softening. Her tune shifted to one that Kaladin couldn’t place, but it seemed to be a positive one. Embarrassed and hoping she didn’t know what his red face meant, he stood up, gathering the remaining spheres into his pockets.
“Look, I... I need to go. I can’t leave Teft and Dabbid for too long.” He internally cursed himself for revealing information, but what did that matter at this point? Kaladin glanced over at the door, considering it, then figured his chances would be better out the window. He pushed the shutters open, peering up and down to estimate how far he had to go. If he made it to the floor below, there was a passage that—
“Kaladin.”
“Huh?” He looked at her. Her hand was on his arm.
Leshwi handed him his broken spear shaft. “Don’t forget this. I assume you were using it.”
“Oh. Right.” He took it. “Thank you.”
They stared at each other for a moment, the cold air from the open window causing Kaladin’s bangs to brush against his face. She lifted her hand - what would have been her safehand, he quietly noticed - from his arm and tucked his hair behind his ear with a careful claw. She smiled.
Storm it all.
Kaladin suddenly took her hand, surprising even himself, and ran his palm over it, swallowing down a tight ball of nerves. “I’ll come back,” He found himself promising. “I have to go make sure... everyone is alright, first.”
She chuckled, and he could almost swear her ruby eyes sparkled. “Do not get yourself killed in the process. I would like to be able to spar with you again.” Leshwi spoke to a mirthful rhythm, running her thumb over his palm in return. He nearly shivered at the touch.
“By my honor,” He murmured. He held onto her hand a moment longer than he should have before turning back to the window, lifting a leg to hoist himself out. He ignored Syl’s giggling as she zipped alongside him, doing a spin about Leshwi’s head before flying out the window and towards Kaladin’s next destination.
Leshwi watched him go, waiting until he’d gotten the proper footing to close the window shutters. They shared one last glance, a look of understanding, before he slipped back out onto the stone wall, nodding to her. He heard the shutters click with finality and took a deep breath, steeling himself.
No more fooling around. His duty came first. Plus, Teft couldn’t broth-feed himself.
Kaladin grunted and exhaled a bit of stormlight as he stuck the shaft onto the wall, dropping and bracing himself.
Back into the cold it was.