#he couldn't even lash him because of shardplate. had to carry him by the ankle.

[nevertheless-moving]

Scene from stormlight au 27, oathbringer to way of kings time travel au

“They didn’t bring their own bridges. They’re doing the tower assault with Sadeas,” Kaladin said in disbelief.

“So much for the Blackthorn’s honor, huh,” Moash said, sneering.

“That, and Sadeas is going to betray them,” Kaladin hissed, moving them further from the ears of passing soldiers. “He’s leading the entire Kholin army into a trap.”

Moash’s eyes widened, turning to watch rank upon rank of blue uniformed soldier march across Sadeas’s bridges.

“Then, this is the battle, the one where we…” Moash trailed off uncomfortably.

The men seemed to have largely decided that remembering a future wasn’t the same as predicting. Still it made them significantly more uncomfortable than the frantic radiant training in the chasms. He could hardly blame them, it made Kaladin uncomfortable too.

“It’s happening same as you remember?” Teft asked under his breath.

“Almost the same.” Kaladin grit his teeth. “It seems that since…El wasn’t able to convince Dalinar to change his plans, the idiot decided to come along for some storming reason.” He nodded at the figure in golden shardplate, massive shard hammer stapped to his back, nearby gold and blue standard waving in the wind.

“I think he gave up his blade,” Syl said, hand up in a humanlike gesture to shield her eyes from the sun. “It’s hard to tell from here, but…I don’t think he’s bonded with one anymore.

Moash froze. “Wait…the highranked lighteye who your friend replaced…El is King Elhokar?”

“I promised him I wouldn’t…” Kaladin shifted uncomfortably.

Moash grabbed his shoulders, leaning in close. “Kal, are you telling me King Elhokar is dead?”

“I -“ Memories of a palace floor, red with blood and light through crystal. Moash, spear in hand, those he swore to protect, killing eachother -

“I watched him die,” Kaladin whispered after a long pause, not meeting Moash’s eyes. “Please Moash, don’t ask me about this, not now.”

Syl tsked in disapproval, but didn’t say anything.

Moash let him go, stumbling back, watching the golden armor with an unfathomable expression. Kaladin wanted to say more, but didn't know what, and Matal was shouting at them to lift bridges.

At the next stop, he had word spread around that this was it.

“If things happen the same…”

He considered trying to reach Dalinar. If he revealed himself, flew over - but no. It was like Elhokar said. Dalinar was convinced that the Almighty himself had told him to trust Saddeus.

He could perhaps claim to be a messenger from the Heralds, explaining the vision? The radiance would help, Elhokar might back him up.

But even if the idea didn’t tie his stomach in knots, what if he ended up causing an outright civil war with his accusations? Tens of thousands could die before any desolation hit. Perhaps the King’s presence would be enough to give Sadeas hesitation in his treachery, but somehow Kaladin doubted it.

No wonder knowledge of the future is forbidden, he thought anxiously as they ran across another plateau.

“It’s not the same,” Syl whispered in his head, not showing herself, perhaps dancing in the air above the bridge. “I still don’t understand what happened, but this isn’t telling the future, not the way that’s forbidden.”

The men muttered softly amongst each other. A handful of the squires might manage a wobbling escape through the air, but they didn’t have enough stormlight between all of them to get away. They would have to bring the bridge, which would mean waiting until after the battle, a few of them flying back to rescue the wounded afterwards.

“The men are in agreement,” Sigzil said quietly. “If your friend is unable to stop Sadeas’s betrayal, then we will protect them.”

Kaladin’s heart swelled with pride as he looked over the men, meeting each man’s eyes and receiving a quiet nod from each in turn.

“They know there’s no guarantees? No certain reward? That they might be throwing away a much more sure chance at freedom for death?”

“They know,” Sigzil replied.

“We’ll still have to march with the retreat,” Kaladin said. “If we just stay there then we’ll be cut down, either by the Parshendi or by our own army. Probably both. If we can fake a few injuries during the initial charge, or temporarily avoid healing any that me or the squires get, it will help our case when we fall behind. Tell the rest of the squires to try and save their stormlight, if they can.”

A dozen more plateaus, a dozen more hushed conversations. At one point Kaladin turned to look at the Kholin army, only to find the King already staring at him. He felt a confused buzz of panic intermixed with relief run through him as they made eye contact for a moment.

I’m not alone in this. But my backup is Elhokar - how am I going to protect him - he’s probably the safest man on this battlefield, a Radiant in Shardplate with a full Kingsguard - he might be able to get the army to cut through to the landing sooner, reduce the casualties - another Shardbarer would help with that anyway - I can’t believe this is the best he could do - I absolutely can - surely he could at least change the battle tactics - but that would require strongarming Dalinar and Sadeas -“

He saw Sadeas ride up next to the King at multiple points throughout the long march. Maybe trying to convince him to turn back?

Perhaps his presence will be enough to prevent disaster. The men and I can escape another day, after we have a little more training. We’ll come back once everyone’s a squire, and their slavebrands heal. If we end the war, then there won’t be bridgemen anymore. Maybe I can convince the King to end slavery; he already passed that proclamation for bridgecrew shields...

He watched, groaning as the Kholin army, eight thousand men, among them three in shardplate with standardbarers, managed to get themselves cleanly surrounded, then abandoned.

Kaladin, again, pushed his way through to look at the eel himself.

The men tensed with barely restrained anticipation as the order to withdraw was given, hidden by bandages and unfaked exhaustion. Kaladin's wince came honestly as they lifted the bridge, narrowly resisting pulling in light to heal the cut on his arm.

“I’m sorry Old Friends,” Sadeas murmured. “I’ll make sure the Kingdom we built stays together, with a strong leader.”

Matel eyed the still dripping bandage with a pleased expression.

They staggered along behind the green coated army, screams at their back like a time keeping fabrial.

“I might be able to make some of the Parshendi army retreat, if I’m obvious with my powers,” Kaladin said, as Sadeas’s army slowly moved out of sight, bridge four looting the dead for weapons and gemstones with expert skill.

This time, Kaladin asked Matel to wait, for his bridge not to be left to angry Parshendi seeking vengeance if they fell behind. It was a slight risk, but - no, the idiot brightlord’s eyes were already lighting up, and bridge four didn’t even have to make it to the chasm edge before being fully abandoned.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Teft said, the rest of the men murmuring eagerly in agreement.

“You know you don’t have to -“ Kaladin offered one last time.

“We know, gancho,”

“Fly on, get out of here!”

“Life before death, life before death.”

“Let’s save those honorable idiots!”

“Show them what bridge four can do!”

Kaladin breathed in a quarter of the emeralds Elhokar had smuggled him on his last visit, nodded, then lashed himself back at the battlefield, quickly outpacing the men charging behind. Their honest cheers and whoops helped him believe for a moment that not all was lost between him and the men who he considered brothers. It had taken a little time, but they had started getting used to the even more haunted, slightly heretical man who had replaced their Captain.

As he had hoped, Elhokar was already leading the men to the chasm’s edge - with any luck they might reach the landing before the bridge got there.

He heard cries from the Parshendi as arrows flew his direction. With ease he pushed Stormlight into a borrowed shield, letting it fall, filling the sky with light before falling into shadow as a full volley engulfed it.

As he had hoped, the front ranks of archers were breaking. Better still, the second and third ranks had seen. Cries of Neshua Kadal spread throughout the army, and Kaladin dared to breath in almost all the rest of his remaining stormlight, blazing like a second sun as he lashed himself in an obvious arch above the Parshendi.

More cries, Listeners scrambling to get away at the edges; their song taking on notes of fear and awe. Mixed in with Neshua Kadal were various Herald’s names, as the Kholin army obviously spotted him.

He landed in a cloud of dust and stormlight on a rock formation between the chasm’s edge and the desperate human army. Forming Syl into an overly massive, unwieldy Shardeblade, he carved a massive boulder of cremcovered rock, then breathed deep, pulling in extra stormlight from the bravely approaching warpairs. He sent the boulder tumbling upwards and slightly to the side. Parts of the battlefield fell still, eyes drawn again upwards to the impossible.

A meteor, glowing with pale blue light before quickly fading to grey and falling with fury.

A tremendous series of crashes rang through the battlefield, the boulder rolling over the Parshendi troops awaiting bridge four’s arrival, clearing the landing and scattering terrified listener ranks before crashing into the chasm beneath with another earthshaking series of booms. He thought he could hear the crack of bones and carapace beneath the clamor, but it was likely in his head.

The Parshendi closest to Kaladin charged him desperately, but he took them down with ease, lashing them to fall amongst their own army, shouting and terrified but alive. One femalen managed to get within his guard, scoring a hit that quickly healed. He retaliated by burning her and her partner’s eyes out with a single swipe.

Come on, he thought desperately. Run, just, run.

Behind him, he saw his crew setting bridge four, having crossed the plateau with incredible speed. Some of them glowed faintly, and he could see another ripple of retreating Parshendi, though several lines of warpairs rallied, daring to charge them, likely hoping to overwhelm the small group and toss the bridge.

Across the battlefield, more listeners were falling away, warsong taking on notes of fear and confusion; but he could still hear the sounds of fighting and dying, his men at the chasm edge, the Kholin army almost on top of them. He flew to another rock formation on the armies buckling eastern flank, chopping one, two, three boulders as ammunition. Some of the infantry must have had gemstones on them, as light streamed from gems in both directions when he took a desperate, reaching gasp of stormlight.

Three more boulders fell among the parshendi in three directions, shaking the plateau, and finally, incredibly the song transitioned fully from uptempo vengeance and battle to retreat. In an absurdly short amount of time, the space around the Kholin army was empty, space where minutes earlier superior forces were crushing doomed Alethi invaders. It was everything that Kaladin could have hoped for, and it still left him stunned. Ten thousand Listeners, routed by a single windrunner.

The true voidbringers would never have run like that.

The Kholin army looked about in shock, calling out praise to the Almighty, to the Heralds - praise clearly shouted in Kaladin’s direction, much to his discomfort.

You did it! Syl said in his head. You protected even more of the Kholin army, and you avoided killing as many Listeners as possible!

Thousands still died. And the Alethi are going to see me up close soon. A radiant bridgeman. A man with slavebrands and a Shardblade. How soon before their adulation turn to confusion, then fear and hatred?

Exhaustionspren spun around him as he slumped, nearly falling to his knees. He caught himself at the last moment by summoning Syl as a gleaming metal staff, leaning heavily on her to stay upright as the last of his stormlight steamed away.

They won’t see me if I just stay up on this rock formation forever, he thought deliriously.

Syl sighed, staff buzzing slightly. “Nothing makes you happy, does it?"

A thump sounded behind him, and Kaladin spun to see Elhokar grinning at him, armour leaking stormlight in dozens of place, but no pieces missing. He smiled weakly at the King, cognizant of hundreds of eyes below on them. He moved slowly towards the king, who met him part way. He stumbled at the end, and Elhokar caught him, steadying his arm with a gentle gauntleted hand.

“I did try and stop my uncle,” he said. “He just…wouldn’t listen. The best I could do was join, and even then I half thought someone was going to tie me down to keep me from coming. I hoped Sadeas would change his plans if I was on the battlefield, but I might have made things more tempting.” He turned pained eyes into the distance.

I’m supposed to teach him to be a leader. Kaladin though blearily, and he forced himself to wave away the lingering exhausion. What would I say, if he was a squad sergeant under my command? The comparison was ridiculous, the sheer scale of lives on the line if the two of them failed making Kaladin nauseous.

“You did well,” Kaladin said softly, voice coming out more confident than he felt. “You can’t control everything; the important thing is taking care of those under your command to the best of your ability.” He nodded towards the Kholin army. “I’d guess more than a thousand soldiers are alive because of your actions.”

Elhokar straightened, grin returning. A single gloryspren spun around him like a golden crown.

“You were incredible,” Elhokar said, awespren replacing the glory. “I was practically unconscious when you fought in front of me before, but this time - you…you were like Jezrian come again.”

Kaladin grimaced in reply, then moved to change the subject.

“What next?” Kaladin asked.

The king blinked. “You’re asking me?” Then he flushed, looking down. “I mean…of course I’m king…it’s just…’

“You’re king. You’re my king,” Kaladin said encouragingly. “What do you think the threats to your men are?”

You have to coach him, you can’t just take command. He needs to take his own journey, for his own sake. He needs to be a King, for the kingdom’s sake.

“Some of the injured could still bleed out or succumb to injuries, but my uncle’s taking care of marshaling the survivors. The Parshendi could come back, but I doubt it. Obviously the desolation, but that’s a slightly longer term threat. Near term, Sadeas…Sadeas wants Dalinar out of the way,” he grimaced. “My presence here makes the situation more complicated. This…could mean all out civil war.”

Kaladin nodded, but Elhokar wasn’t done.

“And you and your men. Sadeas will want revenge on you, for helping us.”

He smiled at the King. Not long ago I doubt he would have thought of bridgeman as people. Then again, he does know they’re prospective windrunners…still progress.

“What’s the best way to handle Sadeas?” He asked, pit in his stomach already suspecting the answer.

“A show of force, before they get back to camp,” Elhokar answered promptly, gaining confidence as he spoke. “He should return already knowing he’s in a position of weakness, that his ploy failed utterly. If we wait to confront him at camp then I’ll either come off as an unbearably weak King, or I’ll be forced to discipline him publicly, which will back him into a corner and essentially force civil war anyway.”

Kaladin nodded again, swallowing back bile. “Fortunately, you have a man who was able to scare away an entire Parshendi army under your command.”

[nevertheless-moving]

#and then Kaladin got to curbstomp Sadeus and make him hand over all the bridgemen or else get thrown into a chasm and everybody clapped#dropped that highprince in front of Elhokar from 50 feet in the air#he couldn't even lash him because of shardplate. had to carry him by the ankle.#literally same energy as cat bringing his human kills because it thinks the human is a pathetic kitten that can't hunt for itself#if you haven't seen the og post the thesis of this au is that Elhokar and Kaladin get super weird about eachother (reblogging with my own tags)

Scene from stormlight au 27, oathbringer to way of kings time travel au

“They didn’t bring their own bridges. They’re doing the tower assault with Sadeas,” Kaladin said in disbelief.

“So much for the Blackthorn’s honor, huh,” Moash said, sneering.

“That, and Sadeas is going to betray them,” Kaladin hissed, moving them further from the ears of passing soldiers. “He’s leading the entire Kholin army into a trap.”

Moash’s eyes widened, turning to watch rank upon rank of blue uniformed soldier march across Sadeas’s bridges.

“Then, this is the battle, the one where we…” Moash trailed off uncomfortably.

The men seemed to have largely decided that remembering a future wasn’t the same as predicting. Still it made them significantly more uncomfortable than the frantic radiant training in the chasms. He could hardly blame them, it made Kaladin uncomfortable too.

“It’s happening same as you remember?” Teft asked under his breath.

“Almost the same.” Kaladin grit his teeth. “It seems that since…El wasn’t able to convince Dalinar to change his plans, the idiot decided to come along for some storming reason.” He nodded at the figure in golden shardplate, massive shard hammer stapped to his back, nearby gold and blue standard waving in the wind.

“I think he gave up his blade,” Syl said, hand up in a humanlike gesture to shield her eyes from the sun. “It’s hard to tell from here, but…I don’t think he’s bonded with one anymore.

Moash froze. “Wait…the highranked lighteye who your friend replaced…El is King Elhokar?”

“I promised him I wouldn’t…” Kaladin shifted uncomfortably.

Moash grabbed his shoulders, leaning in close. “Kal, are you telling me King Elhokar is dead?”

“I -“ Memories of a palace floor, red with blood and light through crystal. Moash, spear in hand, those he swore to protect, killing eachother -

“I watched him die,” Kaladin whispered after a long pause, not meeting Moash’s eyes. “Please Moash, don’t ask me about this, not now.”

Syl tsked in disapproval, but didn’t say anything.

Moash let him go, stumbling back, watching the golden armor with an unfathomable expression. Kaladin wanted to say more, but didn't know what, and Matal was shouting at them to lift bridges.

At the next stop, he had word spread around that this was it.

“If things happen the same…”

He considered trying to reach Dalinar. If he revealed himself, flew over - but no. It was like Elhokar said. Dalinar was convinced that the Almighty himself had told him to trust Saddeus.

He could perhaps claim to be a messenger from the Heralds, explaining the vision? The radiance would help, Elhokar might back him up.

But even if the idea didn’t tie his stomach in knots, what if he ended up causing an outright civil war with his accusations? Tens of thousands could die before any desolation hit. Perhaps the King’s presence would be enough to give Sadeas hesitation in his treachery, but somehow Kaladin doubted it.

No wonder knowledge of the future is forbidden, he thought anxiously as they ran across another plateau.

“It’s not the same,” Syl whispered in his head, not showing herself, perhaps dancing in the air above the bridge. “I still don’t understand what happened, but this isn’t telling the future, not the way that’s forbidden.”

The men muttered softly amongst each other. A handful of the squires might manage a wobbling escape through the air, but they didn’t have enough stormlight between all of them to get away. They would have to bring the bridge, which would mean waiting until after the battle, a few of them flying back to rescue the wounded afterwards.

“The men are in agreement,” Sigzil said quietly. “If your friend is unable to stop Sadeas’s betrayal, then we will protect them.”

Kaladin’s heart swelled with pride as he looked over the men, meeting each man’s eyes and receiving a quiet nod from each in turn.

“They know there’s no guarantees? No certain reward? That they might be throwing away a much more sure chance at freedom for death?”

“They know,” Sigzil replied.

“We’ll still have to march with the retreat,” Kaladin said. “If we just stay there then we’ll be cut down, either by the Parshendi or by our own army. Probably both. If we can fake a few injuries during the initial charge, or temporarily avoid healing any that me or the squires get, it will help our case when we fall behind. Tell the rest of the squires to try and save their stormlight, if they can.”

A dozen more plateaus, a dozen more hushed conversations. At one point Kaladin turned to look at the Kholin army, only to find the King already staring at him. He felt a confused buzz of panic intermixed with relief run through him as they made eye contact for a moment.

I’m not alone in this. But my backup is Elhokar - how am I going to protect him - he’s probably the safest man on this battlefield, a Radiant in Shardplate with a full Kingsguard - he might be able to get the army to cut through to the landing sooner, reduce the casualties - another Shardbarer would help with that anyway - I can’t believe this is the best he could do - I absolutely can - surely he could at least change the battle tactics - but that would require strongarming Dalinar and Sadeas -“

He saw Sadeas ride up next to the King at multiple points throughout the long march. Maybe trying to convince him to turn back?

Perhaps his presence will be enough to prevent disaster. The men and I can escape another day, after we have a little more training. We’ll come back once everyone’s a squire, and their slavebrands heal. If we end the war, then there won’t be bridgemen anymore. Maybe I can convince the King to end slavery; he already passed that proclamation for bridgecrew shields...

He watched, groaning as the Kholin army, eight thousand men, among them three in shardplate with standardbarers, managed to get themselves cleanly surrounded, then abandoned.

Kaladin, again, pushed his way through to look at the eel himself.

The men tensed with barely restrained anticipation as the order to withdraw was given, hidden by bandages and unfaked exhaustion. Kaladin's wince came honestly as they lifted the bridge, narrowly resisting pulling in light to heal the cut on his arm.

“I’m sorry Old Friends,” Sadeas murmured. “I’ll make sure the Kingdom we built stays together, with a strong leader.”

Matel eyed the still dripping bandage with a pleased expression.

They staggered along behind the green coated army, screams at their back like a time keeping fabrial.

“I might be able to make some of the Parshendi army retreat, if I’m obvious with my powers,” Kaladin said, as Sadeas’s army slowly moved out of sight, bridge four looting the dead for weapons and gemstones with expert skill.

This time, Kaladin asked Matel to wait, for his bridge not to be left to angry Parshendi seeking vengeance if they fell behind. It was a slight risk, but - no, the idiot brightlord’s eyes were already lighting up, and bridge four didn’t even have to make it to the chasm edge before being fully abandoned.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Teft said, the rest of the men murmuring eagerly in agreement.

“You know you don’t have to -“ Kaladin offered one last time.

“We know, gancho,”

“Fly on, get out of here!”

“Life before death, life before death.”

“Let’s save those honorable idiots!”

“Show them what bridge four can do!”

Kaladin breathed in a quarter of the emeralds Elhokar had smuggled him on his last visit, nodded, then lashed himself back at the battlefield, quickly outpacing the men charging behind. Their honest cheers and whoops helped him believe for a moment that not all was lost between him and the men who he considered brothers. It had taken a little time, but they had started getting used to the even more haunted, slightly heretical man who had replaced their Captain.

As he had hoped, Elhokar was already leading the men to the chasm’s edge - with any luck they might reach the landing before the bridge got there.

He heard cries from the Parshendi as arrows flew his direction. With ease he pushed Stormlight into a borrowed shield, letting it fall, filling the sky with light before falling into shadow as a full volley engulfed it.

As he had hoped, the front ranks of archers were breaking. Better still, the second and third ranks had seen. Cries of Neshua Kadal spread throughout the army, and Kaladin dared to breath in almost all the rest of his remaining stormlight, blazing like a second sun as he lashed himself in an obvious arch above the Parshendi.

More cries, Listeners scrambling to get away at the edges; their song taking on notes of fear and awe. Mixed in with Neshua Kadal were various Herald’s names, as the Kholin army obviously spotted him.

He landed in a cloud of dust and stormlight on a rock formation between the chasm’s edge and the desperate human army. Forming Syl into an overly massive, unwieldy Shardeblade, he carved a massive boulder of cremcovered rock, then breathed deep, pulling in extra stormlight from the bravely approaching warpairs. He sent the boulder tumbling upwards and slightly to the side. Parts of the battlefield fell still, eyes drawn again upwards to the impossible.

A meteor, glowing with pale blue light before quickly fading to grey and falling with fury.

A tremendous series of crashes rang through the battlefield, the boulder rolling over the Parshendi troops awaiting bridge four’s arrival, clearing the landing and scattering terrified listener ranks before crashing into the chasm beneath with another earthshaking series of booms. He thought he could hear the crack of bones and carapace beneath the clamor, but it was likely in his head.

The Parshendi closest to Kaladin charged him desperately, but he took them down with ease, lashing them to fall amongst their own army, shouting and terrified but alive. One femalen managed to get within his guard, scoring a hit that quickly healed. He retaliated by burning her and her partner’s eyes out with a single swipe.

Come on, he thought desperately. Run, just, run.

Behind him, he saw his crew setting bridge four, having crossed the plateau with incredible speed. Some of them glowed faintly, and he could see another ripple of retreating Parshendi, though several lines of warpairs rallied, daring to charge them, likely hoping to overwhelm the small group and toss the bridge.

Across the battlefield, more listeners were falling away, warsong taking on notes of fear and confusion; but he could still hear the sounds of fighting and dying, his men at the chasm edge, the Kholin army almost on top of them. He flew to another rock formation on the armies buckling eastern flank, chopping one, two, three boulders as ammunition. Some of the infantry must have had gemstones on them, as light streamed from gems in both directions when he took a desperate, reaching gasp of stormlight.

Three more boulders fell among the parshendi in three directions, shaking the plateau, and finally, incredibly the song transitioned fully from uptempo vengeance and battle to retreat. In an absurdly short amount of time, the space around the Kholin army was empty, space where minutes earlier superior forces were crushing doomed Alethi invaders. It was everything that Kaladin could have hoped for, and it still left him stunned. Ten thousand Listeners, routed by a single windrunner.

The true voidbringers would never have run like that.

The Kholin army looked about in shock, calling out praise to the Almighty, to the Heralds - praise clearly shouted in Kaladin’s direction, much to his discomfort.

You did it! Syl said in his head. You protected even more of the Kholin army, and you avoided killing as many Listeners as possible!

Thousands still died. And the Alethi are going to see me up close soon. A radiant bridgeman. A man with slavebrands and a Shardblade. How soon before their adulation turn to confusion, then fear and hatred?

Exhaustionspren spun around him as he slumped, nearly falling to his knees. He caught himself at the last moment by summoning Syl as a gleaming metal staff, leaning heavily on her to stay upright as the last of his stormlight steamed away.

They won’t see me if I just stay up on this rock formation forever, he thought deliriously.

Syl sighed, staff buzzing slightly. “Nothing makes you happy, does it?"

A thump sounded behind him, and Kaladin spun to see Elhokar grinning at him, armour leaking stormlight in dozens of place, but no pieces missing. He smiled weakly at the King, cognizant of hundreds of eyes below on them. He moved slowly towards the king, who met him part way. He stumbled at the end, and Elhokar caught him, steadying his arm with a gentle gauntleted hand.

“I did try and stop my uncle,” he said. “He just…wouldn’t listen. The best I could do was join, and even then I half thought someone was going to tie me down to keep me from coming. I hoped Sadeas would change his plans if I was on the battlefield, but I might have made things more tempting.” He turned pained eyes into the distance.

I’m supposed to teach him to be a leader. Kaladin though blearily, and he forced himself to wave away the lingering exhausion. What would I say, if he was a squad sergeant under my command? The comparison was ridiculous, the sheer scale of lives on the line if the two of them failed making Kaladin nauseous.

“You did well,” Kaladin said softly, voice coming out more confident than he felt. “You can’t control everything; the important thing is taking care of those under your command to the best of your ability.” He nodded towards the Kholin army. “I’d guess more than a thousand soldiers are alive because of your actions.”

Elhokar straightened, grin returning. A single gloryspren spun around him like a golden crown.

“You were incredible,” Elhokar said, awespren replacing the glory. “I was practically unconscious when you fought in front of me before, but this time - you…you were like Jezrian come again.”

Kaladin grimaced in reply, then moved to change the subject.

“What next?” Kaladin asked.

The king blinked. “You’re asking me?” Then he flushed, looking down. “I mean…of course I’m king…it’s just…’

“You’re king. You’re my king,” Kaladin said encouragingly. “What do you think the threats to your men are?”

You have to coach him, you can’t just take command. He needs to take his own journey, for his own sake. He needs to be a King, for the kingdom’s sake.

“Some of the injured could still bleed out or succumb to injuries, but my uncle’s taking care of marshaling the survivors. The Parshendi could come back, but I doubt it. Obviously the desolation, but that’s a slightly longer term threat. Near term, Sadeas…Sadeas wants Dalinar out of the way,” he grimaced. “My presence here makes the situation more complicated. This…could mean all out civil war.”

Kaladin nodded, but Elhokar wasn’t done.

“And you and your men. Sadeas will want revenge on you, for helping us.”

He smiled at the King. Not long ago I doubt he would have thought of bridgeman as people. Then again, he does know they’re prospective windrunners…still progress.

“What’s the best way to handle Sadeas?” He asked, pit in his stomach already suspecting the answer.

“A show of force, before they get back to camp,” Elhokar answered promptly, gaining confidence as he spoke. “He should return already knowing he’s in a position of weakness, that his ploy failed utterly. If we wait to confront him at camp then I’ll either come off as an unbearably weak King, or I’ll be forced to discipline him publicly, which will back him into a corner and essentially force civil war anyway.”

Kaladin nodded again, swallowing back bile. “Fortunately, you have a man who was able to scare away an entire Parshendi army under your command.”