She lay in her bed in the Baldesion Annex, listening to the breeze whistle through the bars of her balcony just beyond the open window. Most would find it too chilly, but the Warrior of Light did not feel extremes of heat or cold as normal mortals did, and what might have brought a shiver to another brought only a brief caress of cool to her. She did not like this melancholy that had taken her of late, though in truth, she was more concerned as to the cause.
When first she'd returned from Garlemald, she'd been too caught up in helping Y'shtola with her research; to find a way to open travel between the shards would be the culmination of not only her dreams, but of so many others'. But as the weeks stretched on, they reached an impasse - too many variables that required research found only deep in the Noumenon, beyond the first floor, where she, Kal'istae, was not permitted to go.
And so she waited, unwilling to commit herself to too many adventures lest she not be available when Y'shtola called for her. And she waited, she could admit only in the privacy of her own heart, for a call that never came - never would come, she was certain.
With a sigh, she rolled over on her back, tilting her head to keep her horns from shredding this pillow. Staring up at the ceiling of her room, she folded her hands across her stomach and considered, not for the first time, what a fool she'd been to get her hopes up.
Who could desire one such as she? A brute, for all her delicate appearance, lacking in grace and subtlety and any hint of feminine charm. Surely not a man such as he, besotted though he'd appeared at the time. She knew he'd not meant to lead her on - but no doubt once out from under the influence of her admittedly strong will, he'd realized what a fool he'd been and had seen no graceful way out but to pretend it had been but a lapse. A moment.
She could not blame him. And so she closed her eyes and sank into her bed, letting her mind drift off into memory.
Into daydreams.
And it was in the midst of one that had her skin heated and her breath coming swiftly that she heard a soft thump at her window. Startled, her eyes flew open and she sat up, twisting in the bed to see what had made that noise.
And there he was, just stepping down from the sill, citrine eyes already fixed on her. "Oh." Her fingers twisted in the blanket as he got to his feet and began to stalk her across the short stretch from window to bed. "I - Thancred."
"Kali," he murmured, reaching out to cup her face in his hands as he joined her on the bed. "I am so, so very sorry."
Swallowing, she stared up at him with wide eyes. "Whatever for?" she asked, though she knew the answer, and braced herself for his rejection.
Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against hers. "For neglecting you. Neglecting us. I did not mean to; I intended to follow you home within the week, but the bandits proved more stubborn than I anticipated, and I could not leave them poised at Mabia and Adius's back."
What? "Thancred," she stuttered, "I did not expect…"
His hands slid along her cheeks and up into her hair, tangling and tugging until she looked up. His mouth hovered above hers as citrine eyes gazed into lavender-edged. "I know," he murmured, his breath warm on her lips. "The fault is mine, but I needed to see if it had simply been the heat of the moment, so I thought to wait a few days, and time got away from me." He could see her confusion, feel the heat of her flush, the flutter of her rapid breathing against his mouth. "But as the weeks wound on, the only thought in my mind was ending the threat and getting home. To you." He gave a soft laugh. "I'm afraid I allowed myself to become a bit distracted…"
Her mind was a muddle, his words droning in her ears. She stared at him, completely flummoxed, her fingers twisting in her lap as she tried to make some sense of what he was trying to tell her. Seeing her struggle, he laughed again, just a bit joyous, just a bit giddy, and tried for a simpler explanation. "I missed you," he said simply, and closed his mouth over hers.
She melted. She could not help it. As his breath mingled with hers, his lips warm and hard as he feasted like a starving man, her arms came up, sliding about his neck and drawing him in. He untangled his fingers from her hair and dropped his hold to her waist, dragging her against him before twisting them down to the bed so that they lay side by side.
As the first rush passed, leaving them limp and gasping on the bed, Thancred rolled over on his side and snaked his arm around her waist, dragging her to him and nuzzling at her neck. "Kali," he whispered.
With a sleepy murmur, she rolled over, burrowing into his arms. "Is this real?" she asked, squeezing her eyes shut as she buried her face against his throat.
Closing his eyes, he wrapped himself around her. "It's real, sweet Kali, and it's my fault you feel the need to ask that."
She shook her head. "There is no need for talk of faults, Thancred," she began, but he tightened his arms until she cut off.
"I need you to understand, Kali," he said, loosening his hold and propping himself up on his elbow to gaze down at her, "what happened between us in Garlemald was completely unexpected. I knew that I desired you, but I thought it a physical attraction, based on your beauty and your prowess as a warrior."
She blinked at him. "What beauty?" she asked blankly.
It threw him off track and he gaped at her before regaining his aplomb. "Gods all bless, Kal'istae," he muttered. "Do you even own a mirror? Never mind," he added, cutting her off before she could do more than open her mouth. "Beauty is, as always, subjective - but to my eyes, there are few who could compete with yours. No," he added as she tried to argue. "I am entitled to my opinion, as you are yours."
"Did I enchant you?" she asked, her voice small as she reached out to place her hand on his breast, studying his aether for any hint of witchery or tempering. He stared at her, stunned. "Did I accidentally bewitch you?"
He reached up, covering her hand with his own. "No, Kali," he replied solemnly, his heart aching at the sight of the lost confusion in her eyes as she gazed mutely up at him. "I am not bewitched, bespelled, or bedazzled, I swear to you." His mind shied away from another word that fit - the one that best described his condition. He thought neither of them was quite ready to face that possibility - and he didn't want to risk being wrong.
Not with her.
Instead, he continued with, "What I am is curious. Intrigued. You have always sparked a heat in me," he murmured, reaching up to stroke his finger along her cheek. "Ever since the first day I saw you there at the Sultantree, having found our lost little lady. You hit me like a bolt of lightning, and with every turn, I was struck anew. Not only by your beauty - which you have in spades," he added, just a bit irritated as her brow wrinkled, "but by your power, your intelligence, and your sheer strength of will. You fascinated me." His voice lowered, caressing over her. "I desperately wanted to see if you brought that verve with which you lived your life to bed with you - but events spiraled so quickly… and then I discovered you had the Echo. Chosen by Hydaelyn. And that put you far out of my reach. A star I could only admire from afar," he sighed.
She eyed him skeptically. "A bit thick, isn't it, Thancred?" His irritated glare made her smile. "If it's practice you seek, I'll gladly offer it, but you've already seen you've no need to seduce me to your bed." Her gaze softened. "I appreciate the effort, my dear-"
He cut her off by the simple expedient of pulling her against him, closing his mouth over hers. In his kiss, she could taste impatience and irritation mingled with that ever-burning desire that had underlaid every interaction in Garlemald. When he finally released her, she stared up at him, jaw slack and eyes wide, as he glared. "I am not practicing," he grated out, "although I admit I do seek to seduce you to my bed - again, and again, and again. Kali, I know my reputation well. I don't deny you've a right to your skepticism - but I have to ask for the benefit of the doubt."
She'd meant her words as jest, a quick quip meant to diffuse the underlying tension in his body - but somehow, she'd only made it worse. "Oh Thancred," she murmured, reaching up to touch his cheek with gentle fingers. "I have nothing but faith in you. You would never do aught to hurt me or the Scions - I know this."
It would do. For now. Thancred reached up to take her hand gently with his, drawing her palm to his lips before lowering their joined hands to his breast. "Then you'll forgive me my absence?" he asked, an impish light in his eyes.
Her smile echoed that mischievous glint. "I might be persuaded to," she replied.
He laughed, tugging on her hand as he rolled, trapping her beneath his lean, hard body. "Then allow me," he murmured, dipping his head to sample the soft skin of her throat, "to shower you in my repentance. Mmm. Kali. Gods, you taste divine…" He knelt between her thighs and reached down to tug at the buttons of her nightshirt.
She was on fire; her mind a blank as she gazed up at him, all soft gold skin and silver hair and citrine eyes ablaze with desire. His clever fingers were feather-light against her skin as he tugged open button after button, nudging aside the dark purple silk to expose her indigo skin beneath. When his mouth closed over her, she arched in shock, hissing, and reached for him. "Damn you, let me -"
He reluctantly sat back as she sat up, sliding his coat from his shoulders. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of her slim fingers as she worked at the catches of his breastplate, loosening them until she could draw the stiff steel-chased leather free, letting it drop softly to the floor. He sucked in a breath as she slid her hands beneath the light linen shirt he wore beneath his armor, the cloth bunching about her wrists as she skimmed her hands up his chest.
Then she froze, and his eyes flashed open, dazed and startled. He met her eyes and saw the first glimmer of concern, then felt her fingers flutter gently across the face of the bandage resting above his ribs below his heart. "Oh. Yes."
"Thancred?" she whispered, dragging his shirt off and staring at the webbing of bandages on his chest and side. "What happened?"
He reached up, touching the white linen thoughtfully. "I believe I mentioned being a bit distracted in anticipating our reunion…"
Lavender-edged eyes rose to his, stricken. Before he could stop her, she laid her hand over his chest and closed her eyes, sending her aether into his body. He sucked in a breath as warmth flooded him. "It isn't serious, but it's deep," she murmured. "I wish you'd let me see it sooner - it's begun to heal on its own, and all I can do is ensure it's free of infection and heals cleanly. Oh, my Thancred," she sighed, then abruptly colored. "I mean…"
He reached out to comb his fingers through her hair. "I barely notice it," he said, outwardly ignoring her slip of the tongue.
She looked up, nestling her cheek against his palm, then drew away. "Lay down," she told him, and when he opened his mouth to protest, her expression hardened. "Lay down."
Unwilling to irritate her further, he sighed and traded places with her, laying down against the firm mattress while she straddled his thighs, her slim body framed by the rolanberry silk of her shirt. He couldn't help but reach for her, but she gently batted his hands away, wrinkling her nose at him as she rested her hands on the soft, scar-studded skin of his stomach. Exhaling, he closed his eyes as he felt the warmth of her aether slide into him, heating the skin around the wounds on his chest and ribs.
Her fingertips traced light patterns against his abdomen as she burned away the incipient infection and strengthened the surrounding blood vessels against potential breakage. She bolstered his natural immune system and eased away the ache in the severed nerve endings. She wished he'd come home sooner; once the natural healing process had taken hold, it became too late for her to speed it along.
Beneath her, Thancred held himself still, a bit dismayed at the amount of willpower it took for him to keep from snatching her and bearing her down to finish what they'd started. The featherlight brush of her fingertips ignited an inferno in his veins; the press of her thighs against his had him as hard as stone, the leather of his pants biting painfully against him. The warmth of her aether only sent his desire spiraling higher, and he bit back a groan as she shifted and settled back.
And when he felt her fingers tugging at his belt, he couldn't repress the next one - but when he once more reached for her, she once more gently slapped his questing fingers away. "Hush, you're injured. Let me."
She was killing him by inches; it felt amazing. She tugged open his belt and unfastened his pants button by button, nails lightly scraping the skin beneath as she parted them. She shifted, lifting herself up, and carefully dragged them down. When she encountered his boots, she made a vexed noise, pausing to untie the straps holding them on, then tug them down, followed by his pants.
His eyes remained closed as he felt her lips brush against his ankles, then his calves. His knees twitched beneath her mouth, and his thighs were like iron from the tension her teasing kisses sparked within. He felt her shift, felt her hands press down against the bed, then sucked in a breath as her mouth traced a hot line across the cloth straining over him. He felt her smile, then shift, and the cool bite of the air as she breached that last barrier, exposing him to the air - and to her hot, hungry mouth.
She used her hands, her mouth, her teeth and tongue and touch to tease him to the very edge of pleasure, riding that line that kept him from going over the cliff with exquisite precision. His fingers twisted in the covers, locking his hands in place, for every time he had tried to reach for her, she'd withdrawn, refusing to continue until he settled once more.
It was torture - exquisite torture - and he was desperate for it. And for her.
When she finally slid up his body and sank down upon him, taking him fully within, he released the sheets and grabbed her hips, keeping her still as his eyes flew open. Wreathed in moonlight, her eyes and freckles glowed bright in the gloaming, her slim body wrapped in shadows and rolanberry silk. She was a vision of beauty and he felt his heart turn over in his breast as she met his gaze, smiling with pure delight.
When she would have moved, however, he stopped her with one hand, the other reaching between them. Her eyes went blind with a flash, her head falling back as his clever fingertips teased her as she had teased him, driving the bonfire she'd stirred within herself towards flashpoint. Abruptly she clamped down on him as she came, her voice filling the air with a shocked cry, and he grabbed her hips and thrust upwards, spearing into her core before letting himself fall after her.
Fall into her.
Fall for her.
As her heart settled, her breathing evening out, Kal'istae lay curled on her side and stared at the open window beyond her bed. Around her waist, Thancred's arm held tight, his body pressed against her back, his breath warm in her hair. "That was quite the welcome home," he finally murmured, and she couldn't help but smile at the smug note in his voice.
"Well, you've been gone so long, I thought it best to remind you why you should come back," she replied, her voice deliberately lazy.
He chuckled and lifted his head to nuzzle against her horn, then tugged lightly until she rolled over, her eyes meeting his. "Believe me," he murmured, bending to capture her mouth, "you are the only reason I need to come home."
As her treacherous heart pounded, she sternly reminded it that Thancred was nothing if not a flirt, but he was never serious about it. It didn't want to listen, of course - but she ignored its rapid thudding and focused instead on keeping her expression light and cheerful as she returned his kiss. As he pulled back, she skimmed her fingers along his arm. "Well, I'll not complain if it means you come by more often. You're missed when you're away, my friend."
He reached down to untangle the covers that had been shoved into a heap at the end of the bed, drawing them over them, then sighed and closed his eyes, wrapping himself lightly around her. "As I miss you - all of the Scions, of course," he added, "but especially you."
She scoffed lightly. "Please. You know you miss Urianger's mother-henning and Y'shtola's sarcastic witticisms. Not to mention the twins' bickering and Raha's constant leaping before he looks."
He nuzzled against her cheek, his fingers tracing light patterns across her ribs. "All of that is true," he murmured. "Much to my surprise, as I was once a very solitary person - but I have come to see the Scions as the family I once dreamed of, and when I am not with them, I do miss them. But my missing them does not preclude the fact that I miss you. I miss your verve, your zest for life, your sensible nature and adventurous spirit. And I miss your scent," he inhaled, "your warmth. Your touch."
She forebore to point out that he had never known the latter until just recently - his words sent a tingle down her spine and stirred butterflies in the pit of her stomach; the sensations were uncomfortable, but not unpleasantly so. "I suppose," she said, just a bit breathlessly, "I could say the same for you." Gods, especially that touch. "Thancred, I…" She trailed off. How could she ask such a thing of a man like him?
His arms wrapped around her. "I trust you don't mind if I stay the evening," he said sleepily. "It's too cold and you're too warm and there's nowhere else I want to be right now."
Please. "I don't mind at all." She was amazed at how even her voice was - light and playful. Surely with the butterflies beating within her stomach and lungs she should barely be able to squeeze out the words.
Beneath the covers, he wrapped himself firmly around her, his breath warm against the nape of her neck. "Thank you," he whispered.
"Always," she murmured sleepily. "Good night, Thancred."
As she drifted off in his arms, he inhaled deeply, drawing her scent into his lungs. "Good night, my sweet Kal'istae," he replied. And in her sleep, she smiled.
When she awoke the next morning, she was alone. Outside, rain pattered lightly against the window and the clouds choked out the early morning sunlight. The first sensation she felt was a flicker of disappointment that he had not stayed the night; the next was resignation tempered by realism - at least it had been a lovely interlude. With a grunt, she hauled herself from the bed, stretching to unkink sleep-mazed muscles before sliding from the mattress to the rug beneath her bed.
The scent hit her first: eggs and bread and bacon, still warm, perfuming the air with their aroma. Her eyes darted towards the tables that lined the wall of her room and she saw breakfast laid out, still steaming. Slowly she approached, her eyes darting from one plate to the other.
"I didn't expect you to wake just yet." Muffling a shriek against her hand, she whirled as Thancred stepped in through the window.
"Do you ever use the door?" she wondered as he stepped up to her. Her eyes grew wide when he bent down to press a kiss to her mouth, tasting of the soft morning rain and the salty breeze off the harbor.
Hiding his irritation with her surprise behind an easy smile, he shrugged. "I can, if you prefer - I find the window to be just as convenient." He set down the pitcher he carried on the table. "I forgot the juice, so I went and purloined some."
She reached out, sliding her fingers over the tines of a fork. "I admit," she said softly, "I was not expecting breakfast."
He paused as he set out two glasses, glancing at her warily. "Is it unwelcome? Is this unwelcome?" He paused. "Am I unwelcome?"
Stricken, she raised her gaze to his. "You will never be unwelcome," she replied fiercely, "and neither is this. I just… no one has ever brought me breakfast. After, I mean. This is a first for me." She knew she was babbling and clamped her lips shut in a tight line.
His gaze softened. "Well, it's a first for me, too. I've never brought breakfast to anyone; I've never stayed," he murmured, "long enough for breakfast to be a consideration." At her wide, wondering eyes, he smiled and stroked her cheek. "I'm enjoying sharing these firsts with you."
He made it so hard not to yearn. So hard not to want. She only hoped she had the fortitude to let go when he did, to hide her shattered heart behind a friendly smile. Don't borrow trouble, she sternly told herself, and leaned in to press her lips to his. "As am I," she replied, drawing back. Seeing the flash of shock on his face, she cringed, afraid she'd done something wrong. "S- sorry," she stammered.
He reached out and cupped her face in his hands. "Don't be sorry," he said earnestly. "Kiss me anytime you like. Anywhere. Any way." His grin was just a bit brilliant, just a bit shy. "I like that you feel comfortable doing so."
Comfortable? Nothing about this was comfortable - but it was right. It felt good, in that achingly uncomfortable way that affection often did. "I just can't help myself," she found herself saying. "I like kissing you."
His citrine eyes warmed. "And I like kissing you," he murmured, then laughed ruefully. At her inquiring look, he shook his head. "I used to mock my friends for their crushes and flings, teasing them about how inane they sounded when they spoke to - or about - each other. And here I am," he murmured, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, "sounding exactly the same, and not minding it one bit. You, my lady, have stripped years from me with one touch from your lips."
She blinked slowly at him. Her answering smile was shy, and her cheeks flushed violet, her glittering freckles standing out in relief. "You and your silver tongue," she teased him gently. "No wonder you keep getting into trouble. Come," she said before he could answer, "breakfast grows cold, and I would enjoy this unexpected bounty - and this unexpected, but wholly welcome, company."
He buried his frustration beneath a cocky smile. "My second favorite meal of the day," he replied slyly as he reached out and hooked his plate, drawing it to him.
She blinked at him. "What is your first? Dinner?"
His smirk made her blush. "No, darling," he drawled. "You."
Blushing harder, she covered her face as he lost himself to laughter.
As she piled the dishes into the hamper he'd used to carry them from The Last Stand, Thancred leaned on the table and watched her. "So what will you do with yourself here in Sharlayan?" she asked as she carefully stacked the plates.
"Bother you," he replied lazily, and grinned when she shot him a suspicious look. "I thought perhaps I'd offer my services to Y'shtola. It seems only fair that I be of some assistance in her research, as I hope to reap the benefits of her discoveries."
She sighed. "At least you can help them. Everything they're studying is deep in the archives, and since I'm not an Archon or a student, I can't go in. Last time Y'shtola snuck me in, we almost got caught and I had to climb on top of one of the bookcases. I was stuck for two hours while she made small-talk with some elderly old hyur with either really bad eyesight, or a great interest in miqo'te breasts."
Thancred snorted. "Both. Very likely both. The older the scholar, the more the lecher."
She gave him a sweet smile. "Learned from the best, did you?"
Citrine eyes were serene as he bared his teeth in a grin. "I never needed a tutor in the amorous arts, I'll have you know. I come by my charm quite naturally. Come here," he said, snagging her wrist and drawing her onto his lap. "There. That's better."
She sighed, hiding her pleasure at his affection, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling against his ear. His arms came about her, cradling her close, and she reveled in the feel of him against her. "I wish I could help Y'shtola and the others as you can."
He frowned as he ran his fingers through her hair, considering the problem. "Actually," he said slowly, "you might. Have you spoken with your friends on the First about their efforts to visit the Thirteenth?"
She sat up. "What? But - oh gods," she muttered, vexed. "How could I be so stupid?" Springing up from his lap and ignoring his soft sound of protest, she began to pace vigorously around the room. "Of course! Cylva and Unukalhai still seek a way to return to the Thirteenth and restore it, and Taynor can open void portals - just like the ones Y'shtola is studying! And unlike us," she added, whirling around, her lavender-edged eyes alight with fire, "they were not contending with the Final Days, so their studies have continued uninterrupted. Thancred, you're a genius."
"I kno-" His jape was cut off as she flung herself into his arms and pressed her mouth to his in a hot, heavy kiss. Stunned, he missed his chance to snag her as she danced away again, clearly planning to immediately rush off to the First. "Now, just you hold on!" he yelped, darting forward to snag her wrist and drag her back. "Calm down, my dear. Let's talk to Y'shtola - it may be she'll have some ideas for you to bear with you. And," he added thoughtfully, "it might be nice if you took advantage of your visit to pass on some news from the rest of us to those we left behind."
She stared up at him, flummoxed, then blushed hotly. "Oh gods, Thancred, I'm sorry. Of course if you've aught to send to Ryne, I'll be happy to take it." She twisted in his grip and walked into his arms as he released her wrist, and he folded her in a gentle embrace. "I'm sorry," she repeated, words muffled against his breast.
"No need for apology, my sweet," Thancred murmured, stroking his hand along her hair. "The gods know you've been desperate for something to do since they began their research in the Noumenon - I don't blame you for your excitement at all." His fingers tangled in her hair and he drew her head back, tracing his lips along hers. "Only take a deep breath - you'll be on your way soon enough, but for now, let us see what our good Master Matoya has to say. Gods," he whispered as he nipped her lower lip. "We should go, before I forget the plan and seduce you to my bed all over again."
Her eyes twinkled up at him. "Maybe later?"
The hope in her voice made his heart stutter. "Definitely later," he replied firmly. "I'll not have you galavanting off to the First without a most compelling reminder of what you have to come back to."
She opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. Instead she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down. The kiss she gave him was soft and sweet, with only a hint of sharp tartness in the brush of her teeth against his lower lip, a promise of more to come. "I look forward to you reminding me of what I have - again, and again, and again."
He sucked in a breath between his teeth and rested his forehead against hers. "As do I, my lady," he whispered. "As do I." As she smiled and brushed another kiss across his mouth, then turned away, he watched her with hungry eyes. "All yours." His words barely stirred the ears, and even her preternatural auri hearing did not hear them. Drawing in a breath to steady himself, he followed as she turned once more towards the door. "Kali."
She turned back, a question in her eyes. "Yes, Thancred?"
His smile was sharp and wicked. "Don't you want to get dressed first?"
He hadn't known she could blush there. And it excited many a possibility in his mind.
After having girded herself in her armor - or rather, in the shadows-and-steel of her shinobi gear - Kal'istae finally left her room to find Y'shtola. She tried the miqo'te's room first, but there was no answer to her knock and she sensed no presence beyond the closed door. Gnawing on her thumb, she glanced sidelong at Thancred. "She might be in the Noumenon already," she said reluctantly. "I may need you to go in and find her."
How it must gall her to be denied access to anywhere - especially the greatest repository of knowledge in the known world. "Kali, do you want me to speak with the Scholarch?"
She stuttered to a stop and turned, frowning at him. "Whyever for?"
He strode up to her, reaching out to brush her bangs from her eyes. "Because I know the desire that burns in your heart - to be admitted to the Studium and partake of its knowledge." As her eyes widened, he shook his head at her. "It was hardly a secret from any who know you, my dear. Your hunger for knowledge is eclipsed only by your hunger for adventure - and the two often," he pointed out, "overlap."
"And that hunger for adventure is what makes my being a student impossible," she said sadly. "I have no time for classes and lessons when there are mysteries whispering my name from beyond the horizon."
Thancred smiled. "It is true there are many professors who would be reluctant to take on a protege who could not dedicate herself fully to her studies, but I can think of a few who would be delighted to have you as a student, even if it meant that your studies were often interrupted by the siren call of adventure and mystery. Hells," he murmured, frowning down at the ground, "I can think of one who would find a way to turn your every adventure into a lesson. Hmm."
She studied him. "Thancred?" she ventured when he lapsed into silence.
He looked up and skimmed his thumb over her chin. "Just thinking. Formulating plans. I have some lines I'll tug while you're busy on the First - I'll not say more until I've had a chance to see if there's any fish out there to hook. Can you be patient?"
Lavender-edged eyes gazed guilelessly at him. "I think I've proven my patience over and over again," she murmured, and heat filled his belly at the insinuation in her words. Before he could do more than take a step forward, however, she turned. "Come, let us see if Ojika knows where Y'shtola is."
"Damn it, Kali," he said mildly as he followed. She flashed a grin over her shoulder, then danced out the door.
In the foyer, Ojika glanced over, smiling at Kal'istae before blinking at Thancred in surprise. "I didn't know you were in town," he told the gunbreaker, who gave him a smirk. "I'm sure the others will be glad. They're in the main hall," he said, anticipating the Au Ra's request. "All four of them."
"Thank you, Ojika," she replied cheerfully, and he grinned as she dashed past him in a swirl of violet silk and glinting steel.
As Thancred followed at a more sedate pace, the lalafell noted, "She seems to be in a particularly cheerful mood. I don't think I've seen her so happy since before you took off on the Ragnarok. In fact, I'm not certain I have ever seen her so happy."
The gunbreaker paused mid-step, watching as Kali flung open the door and darted into the main hall. "Do you think so?"
The Students' overseer studied the hyur for a long moment. "Just when did you get home, Thancred?" When the gunbreaker declined to answer, the Student offered a toothy grin. "Yes, I think so."
He saw no point in feigning misunderstanding, "Let's hope we can keep it that way. Thank you, Ojika." He could feel the lalafell's gaze on his back as he strode past the desk and pushed through the doors into the main hall.
Once inside, he found himself the focus of five more pairs of eyes - none surprised. "Well, I see you gave me away," he said to Kal'istae, who grinned impishly at him from where she perched upon a box, heel lightly tapping against the wood.
"Come now, Thancred, think you I needed say a word?" she asked cheerfully. "Y'shtola knew you were here before I opened my mouth."
Citrine eyes slid towards the miqo'te sorceress, who watched him with narrowed eyes, concern lurking at the edge of her features. Their eyes met across the room and she tilted her head to the side in inquiry. His eyes cut briefly towards Kali and he knew his expression had softened in spite of himself. When he looked back, she looked resigned and shook her head slightly, then turned her attention to Krile, who was speaking.
"... still searching through the deep stacks. I'm sorry, Kali, I tried, but the Scholarch was firm - you are not an Archon, and not a member of the Studium. He is eternally grateful for all you have done, but without your name on the rolls, he can do nothing." The lalafell gazed earnestly at the Au Ra as her smile fell away, her tail drooping over the edge of the box. "Kali, it's not meant to be an insult…"
The Warrior shook her head. "No," she said, her voice low. "Of course not."
G'raha Tia and Thancred exchanged a glance, and the scarlet eyed miqo'te raised an eyebrow as he jerked his head towards the crestfallen Warrior. When the gunbreaker's eyebrows speared upwards in surprise, the Exarch gave him a lopsided smile and flicked his fingers at the silver-haired hyur, urging him on.
His hesitation was brief, and more out of habit than any real reluctance to approach the sulking woman. He crossed silently, drawing Krile and Urianger's curious stares as he moved to stand before Kal'istae. She glanced up as he approached, then sighed and lowered her head again. "I'll be okay."
He reached out, taking her hand in his, and she looked up again, startled. "Do you trust me, Kali?" he asked softly.
Her expression softened. "With my life. With my soul."
He understood the distinction - and how vital it was to she whose soul held the fate of the world in its grasp. "Then trust me now."
She lifted her gaze and searched his eyes, her expression sober. "Very well." Her smile was faint but true, curving the edge of her lips and teasing an answer from his own. "At least thanks to you I know how I can be of some use to everyone."
G'raha Tia was watching them with a rueful expression, one that turned quizzical at Kal'istae's words. "Oh? How is that?" he asked.
She turned to him, eyes sparkling, and Thancred finally released her hand as she slipped down from the box. "Thancred reminded me this morning that there is a small group on the First that is also working on a solution to travel to the Thirteenth," she replied, and Y'shtola sucked in a breath.
"Of course. I should have remembered. Unukalhai and Cyella, and your young elven friend as well," she muttered, tapping at her cheek with her claw-tipped finger. "The elf - Taynor, yes? He could create portals that lead to the Thirteenth."
Kali nodded. "And with Unukalhai having Nylbert's memories," she added, "he has a partner who can help him make larger, more stable portals. Last I remember, Beq Lugg was using the portals to send porxies through on reconnaissance missions." Her eyes slid towards the gunbreaker. "Thancred reminded me of it this morning - I could go to the First and see what progress they've made. Surely there is some, as they have not had the Final Days to contend with as we have."
Y'shtola held up a finger. "Before you go jaunting off across the rift," she stated, "allow me to compile a quick overview of what we have discovered here, both from our examination of the captive rift in Thavnair and our own explorations of Sharlayan's bounty. I would like to see their thoughts on what we have discovered."
The Au Ra gave a rueful grin. "Yes, Thancred suggested that as well. And if you," she added, turning her gaze on Urianger and G'raha Tia, "have any tidings for me to take with me, please, compose them. I will go and see the twins in Garlemald and give them an opportunity to write their own missives."
"Meanwhile, I will write a letter to Ryne," Thancred said, and she glanced sidelong at him, her lips quirking with amusement. "If you leave now for Garlemald, by the time you return from the twins, we should have everything prepared."
Her eyes laughed at him. "So eager to be rid of me?" she teased him gently.
His eyes darkened and she wasn't certain who was more surprised when he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her against him - her or Urianger and Krile, who both exclaimed with shock. "Do you believe that?" he asked, his voice low and edged in irritation.
"I - what? No. No, Thancred." She reached up, resting her hand against his chest. "No, of course not. I was only teasing, my dear."
He covered her hand with his own. "Good. Sometimes," and he mock-glowered at her, "it's hard to tell with you." She gave him an innocent look and he shook his head. "Off with you. Give my regards to Alphinaud and Alisaie, and Rostik should you see him."
She pushed experimentally at his chest. "If you want me to go, you're going to have to let go," she reminded him, just a bit breathless.
His arm remained firm around her waist. "I know." When she looked up at him, eyebrows arching in surprise, he gave her a rueful smile, then dipped his head to catch her mouth. "Godsspeed, my dear," he murmured against her mouth, then forced himself to release her, stepping back.
Her eyes were soft as she reached up to touch his cheek, then drew away, disappearing without a word. He stood still, watching the spot where she'd been standing. He could feel eyes on him, shocked, speculative, and resigned, and closed his own. "What?"
"Thancred." Just his name, but he could hear the wealth of concern in Y'shtola's voice.
He clenched a fist. "Shtola, I - "
"I, for one, am gratified to see it." As one, everyone turned to stare at G'raha Tia, who gazed back with a slight smile on his lips. "Long has there been an underlying affection between you and she, my friend, and I am heartened to see that you have both put aside this unnecessary reticence."
Y'shtola rubbed her arm. "G'raha, are you certain?" she asked him, and he nodded firmly. She sighed. "I will agree, the idea of her finding a peace long denied her - of both of you," she added, meeting Thancred's eyes, "finding peace heartens me, I cannot deny that. However," she murmured, "you swore…"
The gunbreaker raised his hand, cutting her off. "To her, this is an interlude," he said softly. "Moments shared between good friends."
Urianger gazed gravely at his friend. "To her. But to thee, my friend?"
Citrine eyes met gold, then without a word, Thancred turned and left.
The four remaining Scions shared a long glance, then G'raha Tia shook his head. "Still he hides from the truth. And she is no better. And in both of them, the cause of their blindness is the same - a misplaced sense of self-worth."
Krile studied the Exarch. "Raha, I don't mean to pick at old wounds…"
The miqo'te turned a gentle smile upon his old friend. "I will always love her. I cannot help it. But though I know I am in her heart, it is not I who holds the key to her future. I have always known this. Some futures never change, no matter how the path to reach them twists and turns."
Y'shtola and Urianger exchanged a guarded look. "You never speak of those days you lived before the First," she remarked cautiously.
G'raha nodded. "And with good reason. Nor shall I speak of them now. But I know," and his expression softened as he turned to look at the door, "where her happiness lies, and I will do all in my power to see her find it." He raised his loosely clenched fist to his breast, then turned away. "Now, I believe we have notes to compile and letters to write..?"
"Gods!" Kal'istae rolled over, staring at the ceiling of Thancred's room. Beside her, he rolled to lay face-down upon the bed, fighting to draw in a breath. "I can't feel my legs. How am I supposed to go to the First when I can't feel my legs?"
He laughed breathlessly. "Maybe that was the idea," he replied, and she swatted at his naked rear. "Again? Darling, I don't know if we'll live through it right now."
Snorting a laugh, the Au Ra rolled over, wrapping her arm around his waist, and he groaned and flopped over on his side, staring into her eyes. She studied the lazy satisfaction on his face. "I wish you could come with me," she murmured, then bit her lip. "Sorry. I mean…"
"I do too," he said softly, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. "I'd like to see Ryne again, and Gaia, and see the changes you all have wrought with Eden. I'd like to see the Crystarium, and walk through Lakeland, and visit the miners in Amh Arang. But most of all," he murmured, his eyes gazing into hers from scarcely an ilm away, "I want to be with you."
She was silent for a long moment, her expression torn between pleased and troubled. Finally, she closed her eyes. "Thancred…"
"Can you accept that I will miss you, Kali?" he asked softly, and she huffed out a breath before opening her eyes. He gazed back, his own expression carefully blank.
She wished she knew what was going on. She wished she knew what he was thinking. "I'll miss you too, Thancred," she finally confessed, her words low and uncertain.
"That'll do," he murmured, drawing her in until she was tucked against him, enfolded in his embrace. They lay tangled together for several long moments, time stretching on interminably as the feeling returned to her limbs and his breath once more evened out. Finally, he brushed his lips over hers. "You should get cleaned up and be going."
She tightened her arms around him and felt his embrace grow stronger. "Take care," she whispered. "Don't get up to too much trouble while I'm gone."
He pulled back to gaze into her eyes. "Same goes for you. No daring heroics unless you have no other choice." Abruptly, he dragged her up for a long, hard kiss. "Come home to me soon, Kali." Then he released her, rolling away. "Travel safe," he said, his back to her.
Uncertainty rose in her breast - then she understood. He didn't want to watch her walk away. Her heart fluttered unsteadily and she pressed a hand to her stomach. "I - I will come home, safe and sound," she promised him. "It won't be long." He was silent, but she could feel words hovering just beyond hearing.
She rolled from the bed and scooped up her clothing, dragging it on hastily. "I - see you soon, Thancred."
As she reached for the door, she heard him shift. "I'll see you soon, Kal'istae, and I'll miss you until I do."
How she wanted to turn back. "I'll miss you too," she murmured, then darted from the room, closing the door gently behind her.
He rolled over as he heard it swing shut, gazing at the closed door, then turned away again, fists and jaw clenched against calling her back, against running after her for one last goodbye.
He stared a moment longer at the door, then rose with a grunt. She had her duty, and he had his. And if he was going to have an answer before she returned from the First, he needed to get moving. His master was always difficult to find, but never more so than when one was actually looking for him. And Thancred didn't have all day.
He hoped.