Just a little drabble about two of my favorite Asha'man. It pretty much wrote itself; I take no credit
This story contains slash of the m/m variety. Don't like it? Feel free to use the "back" button on your browser window. Don't say you haven't been warned.
Disclaimer: The Wheel of Time series and all characters therein are the property of Robert Jordan. No copyright infringement is intended by this piece, despite the millions I'm making off it. :coughIwishcough: Honestly, I just wanted to have a little fun.
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Jahar Narishma moved silently down the dimly lit corridor of the Sun Palace in Cairhien. Even in the dead of night, hours before the sun would rise, servants bustled through the halls, dusting and scrubbing, rolling up dirtied rugs and replacing them with fresh ones. They watched him pass with wary eyes. It no longer bothered him; he had grown used to their fearful stares. An Asha'man could expect no less, though they dedicated their lives to serving the Dragon Reborn and fighting the Dark One at Tarmon Gai'don.
His mouth twisted sourly as his thoughts returned to Rand al'Thor. A maid gasped at his expression and hurriedly pressed herself against the wall as he passed. He didn't care, not a wit. The incident with Callandor still gnawed at him. Why hadn't he been told about all the traps? Had the Lord Dragon been trying to kill him?
No, sure not that. If the Dragon Reborn had wanted a lowly Dedicated to die, he would have struck the man down himself, or perhaps ordered one of his ferocious Aiel women to plant a few spears in him. Why, then hadn't the Lord Dragon warned him about the other traps?
Resolutely, Jahar put the incident out of his mind. There was nothing to be done about it, in any case. If Rand al'Thor had been testing him, or had omitted the information for another, mysterious reason, he clearly felt that Jahar needed no explanation.
And that rankled, badly.
He reached the section of the palace housing the Asha'man. Small rooms, compared to others in the palace, but they weren't in the servants' quarters, and each Asha'man had a room to himself. A pleasant change from the Black Tower, though they'd been building more spacious quarters to house the recruits when he'd left.
Briefly he considered going straight to his own room, but passed his own door up in favor of the one two rooms down. Light shone through the crack at the bottom of the door. He knocked softly, not waiting for a response to enter.
Fedwin Morr lay stretched out on the bed with a book, a glowing ball of Air and Fire hovering above his head, the weave tied off. Jahar paused for a moment to admire the younger man: Fedwin wasn't handsome, in the conventional sense, but he had his own charms. What had drawn Jahar to him originally was his shy smile, that seemed to light up his whole face. The same smile he turned on Jahar now.
"I didn't expect to see you tonight," Fedwin said in a low, gently voice. "Did something happen while you were on guard duty for the Lord Dragon? I thought you were supposed to get off earlier."
Jahar closed the door quietly behind him and began unbuttoning his coat. "No. Dashiva was just late to replace me. And grumbling and scowling at me like it was my fault he had to get up to take his turn."
Fedwin grimaced. "That man is completely unbearable," he said sympathetically. Dashiva, the only full Asha'man among them, took every chance he could to pull rank on them. He seemed to take malicious delight in assigning them duties at times that made it almost impossible for them to see each other. He was especially cruel to Jahar, when they were out from under the Lord Dragon's eye. Jahar hadn't a clue what he'd done to offend Dashiva, unless the older man simply feared Jahar would one day outstrip him in strength in the Power. The M'Hael had once made a great deal over his potential, though his interest in Jahar had quickly waned. Personally, Jahar did not like their leader, not one bit.
Sighing wearily, he dropped his coat over the back of the single chair, then joined Fedwin on the bed, sitting on the edge. The younger man rolled over onto his side, closing the book. "Honestly, I'm so irritated, I don't think I'll be able to get any sleep." His tone came perilously close to being a whine.
The husky boy sat upright, placing a large hand on Jahar's shoulder. "You're welcome to keep me up as long as you like," he murmured, dark eyes glowing warmly in the bright light above them.
Jahar smiled as the younger man hurriedly stifled a yawn. "What are you doing up this late, anyway?"
Fedwin grinned sheepishly, cheeks reddening. "I was waiting to see if you would come by after you got off, actually."
Jahar felt heat suffusing his own cheeks. Smiling broadly, he scooted closer to Fedwin and wrapped his arms around the young man's shoulders. "I could use a cuddle," he admitted softly, resting his head against Fedwin's.
The dark-haired boy put his arms around Jahar's waist, pulling the older man closer. "It can all get pretty frustrating, at times," Fedwin said gently. "Sometimes, you just have to accept what can't be changed, and move on. Things will get better. You'll see."
Jahar closed his eyes. Fedwin, nearly eight years his junior, could be surprisingly wise at times.
Fedwin broke the embrace, hands moving to cup Jahar's face as he leaned in to kiss the other Dedicated. Jahar made a soft sound of content, leaning into the kiss. He could vividly recall their first: a red-faced Fedwin had trembled in his arms, returning Jahar's kiss with enthusiasm, if not finesse. Jahar had had hardly more experience in the matter. They had learned together, each sloppy kiss and fumbling caress too precious for words.
Jahar thought he might be in danger of losing his heart to this husky, charming young man.
They parted reluctantly, and Fedwin gave him a slow, lazy smile, full of promise. Jahar felt his frustration and anger melt away as the light above them winked out, and Fedwin pulled him down onto the bed.
Life may have been cruel, dreams of glory and respect standing by the Lord Dragon's side shattered by the harsh, dreary reality; but here, and now, life was good. In Fedwin's arms, he was at peace.