You can ship this as Adolin/Kaladin, Shallan/Adolin/Kaladin, or just...very close friends. It was started with Kadolin in mind, but meh. These things have a way of running away with me.
Enjoy!
And maybe review?
Disclaimer: I do not own The Stormlight Archive. All affiliated characters and settings are the property of Brandon Sanderson and Tor Fantasy. No copyright infringement is intended; no profit is being made.
Warnings: Implied minor character death.
Grief
Adolin threw the door open.
"Yo, Bridgeboy! When were you planning to tell me you were home?" Adolin demanded, stomping into the room.
Kaladin sighed, not even bothering to look at the prince. "Because I thought a few minutes of peace was something I'd earned." He was sprawled out on the bed, clearly resting after his journey to his hometown and the capital.
From her seat beside the bed, Shallan giggled, closing the book she had obviously been reading him. "Admit it, you just don't want him to see you like this."
"I'll admit that I don't want him to see me at all."
Adolin blinked, then grinned. "Right. That's why you two are in my room."
"Are we? Must've gotten lost."
"Right," Adolin said, not believing a word of the obvious lie. Kicking off his boots, the prince dropped onto the bed beside Kaladin. "How was the trip?"
Kaladin shrugged in that infuriatingly closed-off way of his. "Fine. Long. Tiring."
"And...your parents?" Adolin prompted, nudging his side. "When do I get to meet them?"
"You don't," was the detached reply.
"Oh come on, Kaladin!" Adolin complained, nudging him harder. "You're not that ashamed of me, are you?"
"They're dead."
Silence.
Before Adolin could even begin thinking of a response, Shallan had moved. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she grasped Kaladin's hand, squeezing.
"Kal..."
"My condolences," a voice buzzed from Shallan's skirts. Pattern, obviously.
"I don't need a pity party," Kaladin grumbled, turning away from Shallan, only to face Adolin. "I knew...what I was doing, when I left home. The city lord hated my father; was turning the town against my family. What other outcome should I have expected?"
"Almighty above, you are impossible," Adolin grumbled. "You say that like it's inevitable they should have died. You didn't seem to think that when you flew out o—"
"Storm it, Adolin!" Kaladin snapped, sitting up. "Stop talking like you have any idea what it's like for us! You're a darkeyes hated by a lighteyes? Things are going to fall apart for you. They'll find a way. They always do."
Adolin fell silent, the words a harsh reminder of the Kaladin who had refused to trust any of them. After a moment, though, he scoffed softly. "You're a lighteyes, too."
"Adolin!" Shallan scolded, her pretty features marred by a dark scowl. "That's uncalled for."
"But it's true," Kaladin muttered, moving to get off the bed. "I'm leaving. You two—"
Adolin grabbed his arm and yanked him back down. "You aren't going anywhere if I have to keep you here by sitting on you."
Kaladin's pale eyes darted to the bowl of spheres Shallan had been using to read, his thoughts clear.
"Syl, don't you dare help him escape!"
The honourspren popped into being in front of Adolin-and storms he still jumped when she did that—her form that of a tiny human, who flashed him a thumbs up. "I've been telling him to talk to you guys."
"Syl..."
"Forget it, Kal. You're on your own." In a curl of mist, she disappeared again, drawing a sigh from Kaladin.
"Traitor."
Kaladin could still run if he wanted to, of course, but after a moment, he sighed again, pressed a palm to his branded forehead, and laid back down. "You're all impossible."
"But you stick around anyway," Adolin said, nudging him.
"It's my job."
"You're a Radiant. I think being my family's bodyguard is a little below that job description."
"I still have to look out for my men. They need—"
Storm it. Laying on his back, Adolin grabbed the stupid bridgeboy's head and yanked him in closer, pressing his cheek into his chest.
"Shut up for one lousy second and let yourself grieve, you stupid Bridgeboy. And no more changing the subject."
Shallan shifted to rest her freehand on Kaladin's shoulder. "Adolin's right."
"Of course I am." And please, don't kill me later, he added mentally.
The stiffness in Kaladin's body very gradually relaxed. After a few minutes of quiet, with only the sound of their breathing filling the room, Kaladin moved, pressing himself more fully against Adolin's body.
Hesitantly, he loosened his hold on Kaladin's head, letting out a breath of relief when the other man stayed put. Moving his arm to Kaladin's back, he rubbed slow, soothing circles.
"What happened?" Shallan finally prompted, the first to speak in several minutes.
Kaladin didn't speak, not that that was terribly surprising. Glancing over, Adolin met Shallan's eyes and shrugged. They were doing what they could, but this definitely wasn't Adolin's area of expertise.
More minutes passed, until eventually a full half hour had ticked by. Kaladin hadn't said a word, and though Adolin could not see his face, he knew Kaladin was still awake by the faint tenseness in his body. Awake, but certainly not talking.
His gaze began to wander. His quarters here in Urithiru weren't as nice as they had been back in the camp—for one thing, space was a far bigger issue, here—but he had made do. A soft, blue rug covered the floor, protecting bare feet from the cold stone, a few wallhangings added colour, and there was the comfortable chair Shallan had vacated earlier. Comfortable, if not lavish...
His gaze trailed upwards, and with a start he realised Syl was hanging from the ceiling, a tiny frown on her lips. After a few seconds, she dropped, riding the wind over to Shallan.
"Dalinar sent me to get you," she said, sitting on the redhead's knee. "Something about needing a scribe and Navani being too busy."
Adolin exchanged a glance with Shallan, then nodded once. Truthfully, Adolin could not help a slight feeling of relief as Shallan stood to leave, squeezing Kaladin's shoulder once before turning and departing. The door clicked softly as she shut it, and he let out a long sigh.
...he liked Shallan, a lot, but Adolin knew Kaladin still harboured some feelings of mistrust for her. Nothing like he had before, perhaps nothing more than instinct at this point—Almighty above, Adolin would even call them friends! But he didn't open up around her as much, and Adolin suspected that was why he was so quiet now.
Sure enough, it was only a few more minutes before Kaladin stirred, one arm moving to wrap around Adolin's hips. "I abandoned them. Leaving, knowing the position they were in. Almighty, I can't protect anyone..."
"That's not true. You saved my family." He rubbed Kaladin's back, trying to ignore the feeling of knotty scars through his uniform coat."More than once."
"I saved a lot of people more than once," Kaladin snapped. "It only takes one failure."
He opted for a different tactic. "Why did you leave?" He had known Kaladin for...too long not to know such basic information, but there it was. Kaladin never talked about himself.
"I had to."
"You said the lord of your town hated your family. What happened?"
"My father was the town surgeon. He couldn't save his son." Well, that explained Kaladin's uncanny knack for sewing people up. "Almighty, I can't even say that was the only thing. He accused my father of stealing from him. My father was willed some spheres by the previous lord—money, to send me away to school. They fought over that before, then Rillir died, and things went to hell."
Kaladin's words, his sentences, were choppy, like he was trying to piece together a lot of thoughts at once. Adolin stayed quiet, letting him talk.
"He forced my little brother to go to war. He couldn't make me go, I was my father's legal apprentice—and Tien, he couldn't do it. Couldn't stomach the sight of blood." There was fondness in his voice. "I enlisted to protect him." There was a definite hitch in his voice, now, a tension in his body that had not been there before. "I failed that, too."
"Kal..."
"One choice cost me my entire family."
The hollowness in his voice was...disturbing. Wrapping one arm around Kaladin's shoulders, Adolin stroked his cheek with his other hand, pressing the Radiant's face into his chest.
"You know, there's no one else here."
"What's your point, Princeling?" No heat.
"I probably won't tell if you need to cry."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
In a completely serious tone, Adolin muttered, "Yeah, I would. Because I think you need to."
Kaladin let out a weak, breathy chuckle. "Since when did you get so sentimental on me?"
"I don't know. It's freaking me out, though, so let's keep it short."
Kaladin's laugh was a little more honest this time. Silence settled again, though this time it was a little less tense. Kaladin's breathing only hitched a little, and if a small wet spot formed on Adolin's uniform...well, maybe the ceiling was leaking.