#kholin fic

[cosmereplay]

I'm rereading Elantris and thinking about similarities between Sarene and Adolin:

Considered embarrassingly old to still be unmarried (mid-twenties); Adolin was forced to import a potential bride and Sarene was forced to export herself as a bride, both times to someone they hadn't laid eyes on yet.

OH ALSO both of their failures in courtship sound ludicrous. No man in Teod wants to marry the princess because she's tall and outspoken? Seriously? No woman in Alethkar can stand Adolin, cousin to the king? Really? As the Americans say, come on.

Forced to spend time in a bloodthirsty court that they hate, with people who hate them

Love swords and duelling

Trained diplomats

Blond(e)

[sweatersexual]

Adolin was not quite awake, but on some level he was aware of the shifting in bed and the panting breath of someone beside him. What did wake Adolin was the night air on his abdomen and the firm touch of a hand on his gut. Not a loving caress, not rough either, but probing, assessing.

Adolin opened his eyes, and he could see Kaladin leaning over him in the darkness. His hand kept probing along a line on Adolin's torso until he reached a spot just above Adolin's opposite hip. Kaladin's shoulders dropped then, breathing out tension in a relieved sigh.

Adolin put it together. "Thaylen oathgate again?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kaladin confirmed in a hoarse whisper. "Sorry I woke you, I just had to check."

Adolin wrapped both arms around Kaladin's back and pulled him close. He could feel Kaladin's heartbeat start to slow down after the nightmare he'd just had. "I'm okay," he reassured him. "I'm all right."

"I know," Kaladin murmured into Adolin's shoulder.

"Think you'll be able to fall back asleep?"

"Probably. Maybe. Not like this though. You're not as soft as Shallan."

Adolin smirked as he glanced toward where Shallan slept on his other side. Kaladin wouldn't be able to sleep on her in this position either. He'd be too worried about crushing her. It was adorable, really.

"You're full of crem," Adolin said fondly, letting a hand glide up to stroke Kaladin's hair.

Kaladin chuckled as he settled his full weight against Adolin, despite his words, and Adolin couldn't help but chuckle back.

Apparently this was too much for Shallan, who groaned and flung a lazy hand toward both their heads. One of her knuckles caught Adolin on the cheek. "Goslee'boys," she grumbled.

"Kaladin had a nightmare," Adolin informed her. "Don't you care?"

"Yeah. So sleep."

"Love you too," Kaladin murmured.

Shallan groaned and rolled over, snuggling up to both of them. She ran her hand along Kaladin's back.

"Mm-hmmmm," she said, settling into Adolin's other shoulder. "Now shaddup."

[stew4]

The best part of stormlight modern aus is thinking about all the different bridge four incarnations.

school club? Dance team? Literally any kind of sport team? Factory workers? Apartment floor? Diner workers? Backstage crew? Just some guys?

someone has thought it

[taravangians-storming-balls]

listen. all I'm saying in that if you assume for a second that kalmoash is real (even bare minimum moash has a crush on kaladin), moash and adolin BOTH lost their partners when kaladin and shallan fell into the chasms in WoR. They both stood there, in full shardplate, and watched their partner fall to their supposed death while they couldn't do anything to save them.

And I dunno I think they should've dealt with that really unhealthily with each other

[illegiblehandwriting1]

i can't remember if an interaction ever happens like this, (probably) but imagine Kaladin being as stoic as ever, he's on duty (idk if this is during Words of Radiance or just before Rhythm of War, so he's either in the warcamps or Urithiru probably. If warcamps then its after the chasms. actually yknow what this is both fanfic and random bullshit, i do what i want and say fuck canon)

So he's standing guard like he's supposed to, except Shallan decided that a productive use of her time is to go and bother him. Radiant thinks it's rude and the respect she has for both him and any soldier means she hates this, but Veil is totally in on it.

So she's just pestering him for his entire shift, and he's standing there, not looking at her, completely dead-faced, offering the occasional clipped answer, and generally being incredibly annoyed, but at some point, she says something either humorous, heartwarming, or both, and without really thinking about it, just COMPLETELY UNCONSCIOUSLY, his face breaks into a small little grin. Not a sarcastic one or a bitter one, just a little smile of joy that breaks through his perpetual storm. The moment he realizes, of course, he very quickly hides it, but of course Shallan catches it.

And she just gasps playfully but also genuinely surprised, but she keeps it lighthearted in the hopes she sees it again. "Storms, what was that? Captain Kaladin? Was that a smile from the Captain Kaladin, whose scowl could curdle milk?"

And he glares at her, because he wasn't smiling and he was on duty and frankly, she had been annoying him for ages and he wanted her to shove off. But she grins up at him.

"Oh, come on, Captain, don't make all the troops run off in fear now! You have a lovely smile, it's wonderful!"

And she pokes him in the side, just to get a little twitch and a deeper frown.

"Aw, that usually works on my brothers. Well then. I'll have to figure out something else, won't I?" Her mischievous expression softens a little, and she just tells him, "You really do have a lovely smile. I don't know why you try to hide it." And she just sits down and spends the rest of his shift telling jokes and ridiculing passerby, no longer trying to annoy him, but just there to keep him some company and maybe make him smile again.

And if a grin broke through his stormy facade every once in a while, well then, she wouldn't point it out. She just took a Memory and carried on chattering loudly about axehounds and lavis polyps and how Adolin had worn his shirt backwards and that lady's hat over there looked like a pile of cremlings had eaten too much and died on top of it, hoping that smile might stick.

(Later, Shallan finds Adolin and runs up to him, screaming, "I MADE KALADIN SMILE!" and Adolin's like "WHAT IN THE ALMIGHTY'S GOOD NAME, I DIDN'T KNOW HE KNEW HOW TO DO THAT" and they just freak out about it and generally make fun of him. That night, Kaladin has a dream about Tien and wakes up crying, only to wonder what reminded him of the time Tien had visited him in the clinic for hours on end, talking and keeping him company as he tried and failed to get his stitches as perfect as his father's.)

[blindradiant]

ask game: 20 with rlainarin? （╹◡╹）♡

I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this, but I finally wrote something tonight!

Rlainarin, on a scar. Rated Teen, 650 words. This has a couple references to grief in regards to lost family members and entire cultural groups.



Rlain hovered his finger over Renarin’s arm, tracing it near his skin without actually making contact. He hummed quietly to the Rhythm of Peace, noting each of Renarin’s small arm hairs. They were black speckled with yellow, just like the longer strands on his head. Rlain also admired the constellation of freckles scattered across the parts of Renarin’s body that weren’t hidden by his clothing. Each time Rlain thought he’d learned as much as he could about Renarin, he always found more to discover. Tonight, that discovery was Renarin’s individual beauty.

When Rlain had first met and interacted with humans, he’d thought that their monochrome skin and lack of marbling made them indistinguishable from one another. Now that he’d taken the time to look closer, he realized how wrong he had been. It was true that humans had no marbling, but the blending colors of Renarin’s head and arm hair were almost like marbling of his own. Humans weren’t monochrome, but were covered in small variations, like Renarin’s freckles.

Rlain’s finger encountered a mark much larger than the rest of Renarin’s freckles. It was near the heel of his left hand, and ran in a short, jagged line between the bass of his thumb and his wrist bone. Rlain kept his finger there, but still didn’t touch Renarin. “What is this?” he asked to Curiosity.

Renarin glanced down. “It’s a scar I’ve had since I was a child,” he said. His words were faintly spoken to the Rhythm of Consideration. He was getting very good at that.

Rlain hummed a few notes of Curiosity. “How did you get it?”

Renarin looked away, tapping the fingers of his right hand against his knee. “It isn’t interesting. I was out with mother one day. We were walking through the gardens in my uncle’s palace, when I had a fit. I think I tried to catch myself before I hit the ground. One hand landed on a rock that had been broken in a storm, and I was left with that scar.”

Rlain pulled his hand back from Renarin’s arm, resting it on his own knee. “Do you think your Stormlight didn’t heal it because you’ve had it for so long?”

Renarin pulled his box from a pocket and rolled it in his fingers. “I think...I think I still have it because it’s a physical reminder of my mother. Even when I can’t remember specific things about her, I look down and see that scar, and know that she was real.”

Rlain attuned Mourning. He knew how deeply the hurt of a loved one’s death could run. He’d once believed that he was the only surviving member of his entire species. Yes, he intimately knew the type of pain Renarin spoke of.

He nearly let the conversation die, but a sudden thought occurred to him. He attuned Confidence to give himself courage. “Can I kiss your scar?”

Renarin looked up, his eyes widening in clear surprise. “Why do you want to do that?” Another human might have asked the question with judgment, but Renarin only seemed curious and slightly baffled.

“You said the scar reminds you of your mother,” Rlain said to Remembrance. “I want it to make you think of me also.”

Renarin’s breath audibly caught. “I... It’s that important to you?”

“It is,” Rlain said to Resolve.

Renarin swallowed, tightly wrapping the fingers of his right hand around his box. “Just a short kiss,” he said. His voice came out weak, and attuned to no Rhythm at all. “And, um, no licking.”

Rlain hummed to Appreciation, then leaned down and brushed his lips against the scar. He sat up, and Renarin stared down at the spot, as if he could see some change Rlain couldn’t.

Renarin finally looked up. “I don’t remember her well,” he said to Remembrance, “but I think she’d approve. Of us.”

Rlain matched his Rhythm to Renarin’s, bolstering and strengthening his song. “Thank you.”

[sailorspren]

So in WoK Elhokar is described as having "light yellow" eyes, then later on in WoR he's described as having "pale green" eyes (like his father's). Peter said that Brandon and he decided to change his eye color to match Gavilar's, and that WoK needs to be updated to match the change. But this raises an interesting question imo

[technicallyblakebelladonna]

not me rereading the stormlight archive to prepare for the release of Stormlight 5 and getting to the start of words of radiance and falling back into my shasnah bullshit all over again

[kitsunekage88]

So, I had a very strange dream. I might have been reading The Stormlight Archive a bit too much. But Adolin was an archeologist who, after a war, went to a valley to examine a strange statue he had found but had to ignore during the fighting. Only when he went to touch it to get a better look Kaladin just kinda fell out of it. So he did the reasonable thing. He scooped him up and hauled ass out of the valley because there's no way in hell that was a safe place to be.

[magenta-somethings]

how navaniel could have won

or, a 1700 word fic in which Navani is slightly more gay, Raboniel slightly less dead, and I play hard-and-fast with worldbuilding note: picks up right near the start of chapter 113 of RoW, which is where the first line is taken from

-

“My soul…is burned… almost all away…”

In another universe Navani’s mind—drenched in agony, overwhelmed with a piece of god—wouldn’t have focused on the semantics. She would have accepted the words and heard the rest of Raboniel’s dying request and retrieved the dagger and driven it into her heart. And after she would have left a note on Raboniel’s corpse naming her hero and commanding that it not be disposed of without consulting the queen. She would have seen to the funeral herself, and snapped at the Brightlord who questioned why an enemy deserved this honour, and later found comfort in her husband’s arms, even as she couldn’t think of how to explain the wound in her chest. For years, the memory of a hand and a voice, joined to her by song, would have haunted her. And it would have been a sweet haunting. One grief she would have cherished, even as she struggled to name it grief, unlike all the others of her life. 

But in this one, her mind tripped on soul. It picked it up and examined it. And the scholar in her found it inaccurate. 

“Not your soul,” she corrected. “Your Voidlight.”

“Is there… a difference?” asked Raboniel. It was intended to be rhetorical. The intended answer an obvious no. She was Fused, and so she could not exist without Voidlight. She hadn’t been able to exist without it for the last seven thousand years. She was bound for Braize, changed by the touch of Odium. And this time there would not be enough of her left to return to Roshar sane. Yet Navani was a scholar and, perhaps more importantly, a believer of the Almighty, even after everything, and so for her the answer was yes. There was a difference. 

The gears of Navani’s mind were beginning to turn, their teeth slotting together. “A human can be filled with Voidlight,” she said. Moash had proved that—at least there was one thing the bastard was good for. “And a singer can be filled with Stormlight.”

“I don’t… follow,” Raboniel said. But even through her agony, Navani could see a glint of interest in her eyes. She was a scholar too. Even to the end. 

Sibling, Navani thought, what if we were to fill Raboniel with Stormlight? Would it allow her to live? To keep her mind?

I—I do not know, the Sibling thought back. The Fused are not merely singers. Odium has changed them. And even then, she would likely need to be constantly infused. The Stormlight filling the hole left by Voidlight. 

A hypothesis formed and, despite everything, with it excitement. Navani would not feel guilty about that. Not now, at least. Guilt did not drive scholarship. What if she were a Radiant?

She could feel the Sibling’s bewilderment. Their connection still raw and sensitive. Less an exposed nerve and more a nerve that had never been covered in the first place. No spren would bond her.

Which was true. But that was not what Navani had in mind. That would give her too much power. She did not trust Raboniel enough for that. Yet she wanted her to live. It was a selfish desire, unworthy of a queen. But wasn’t that why? Raboniel had given her the gift of being a scholar. Of letting the world fall away, until it was just the two of them and science and a rhythm. The gift of being selfish. And now in front of her was a theory that begged testing. 

What about a squire? she asked.

Again, bewilderment. Worse. Insult. This was a dangerous game, when the Sibling had only barely accepted her. But she could not convince herself Raboniel wasn’t worth it.

Her? As our squire? She tried to unmake me. She would unmake all that remains of Honor.

She did. And she would. But did she not also join with me? Did she not sing the Rhythm of War with me? I’m your Bondsmith now. And our duty is to unite. Yes, she did you a great injustice. But if we can get her to join us, think of what it could mean.

The Sibling fell silent and in that silence she read begrudging acceptance. This would cost their bond, already so frayed in its first hour of existence, but she could make it up to them. The spren of this tower. Her spren, in the way she was their Knight Radiant. She could make this work.

“Are… going to share… your thoughts?” Raboniel forced out. “A theory… of yours would be… a good parting gift.” Pain soaked her every word, but still she spoke. “Or… a final punishment? It… would not work. Kindess… or cruelty… from you, I would accept both.”

Navani kneeled. Took Raboniel’s hand in hers, like she had when they uncovered the Rhythm of War together. “Raboniel, become my squire.”

Raboniel stared at her. A bark of laughter tried to make its way up her throat, but all that managed to escape was coughs. “Oh, Navani… my Voice of Lights. Even now, you… surprise me. But it will… not work. Pick up the dagger. I made more anti… anti… I made more. There.” A tilt of her head, just enough to gesture to her desk. “Please. End it. My suffering. Me.”

My Voice of Lights. What about that caused her heart to sing? Likely it was just the intensity of the day. “You said you appreciated anything that can still surprise you. Show your appreciation. Help me test one last theory.” Raboniel shook her head, but Navani could not let her refuse. Not yet. She needed to entice her. Get her to see the possibility of it. The potential. She tightened her grip on her hand. “You say it won’t work, but what kind of scholar would we be if we didn’t try? If we Infuse you with Stormlight, and then use the anti-Voidlight, your connection to Odium should be severed. If you are right, and your soul and Voidlight are one, then you will die. If you are wrong, you get to live one final life. One that could see the end of this war.” One that could be spent with me. The desire was unexpected, but not unexplainable. Her collaboration with Raboniel had been unlike any other. The things they could discover together, with just a little more time… 

Raboniel eyes were slits, barely open. But they were open. She had not closed them yet. Navani could still see the crimson intensity of them, more beautiful than any ruby. “An end…”

“If you still wish to die after our experiment,” said Navani, even as it pained her to say, “then any dagger will do the job. And if this fails and you are sent back to Braize without your mind… then I swear to find you, in whatever body you are reborn in, and fill you with enough anti-Voidlight that there will be nothing left for Odium to use.”

One of Raboniel’s thumb, slender and so weak, traced the edge of Navani’s hand. “Such sweetness… I have not tasted for centuries. Yet… I… we are still enemies… how could I… be your squire?”

How barren Raboniel’s life must have become, that this was sweet. Suddenly, Navani wished to see her drink wine of every colour. To see her filled with the taste of berry and honey and fruit. Raboniel would see most of the world dead, and yet Navani wanted only sweet things for her. 

It must be the intensity of the day. That, and the dying light of her eyes.

Becoming a squire normally takes time, shared the Sibling. But you have a Connection. If she says the words, then maybe…

“You want an end,” she began. She had tried to be logical in her arguments, a scholar presenting a theory, but the edges of desperation were creeping in. “Let’s find it. A better one, where human and Singer are united. Where we both win.” She grabbed her other hand as well, clinging to both like she could keep Raboniel’s soul anchored. “Please. Lady of Wishes. We are both of Odium. But we are also both of Honor. Place your trust me.”

“We are… equals.”

Navani stared into her eyes. Into the thin red line. All that was left. “Raboniel, please.”

Raboniel closed her eyes. And then her lips began to move. Somehow, she knew. “Life… before… death.”

She glowed. Not red, but white. The white of a sun directly overhead. The white of Honor’s lightning. The white of Stormlight. It was beautiful, and Navani wanted nothing more than to stare—to watch as Light traced her marbling and knitted together her flesh and mended dead limbs—but she couldn’t. She let go of her hands and scrambled to her feet. Grabbing the dagger on the way. The black sack and its terrible diamond was easy enough to find, and easier to slot into the dagger.

By the time she returned there was strength again to Raboniel. But now, no longer blinded by Light, Navani could see something dull about her eyes. A wound Stormlight could not touch. “The Lady of Wishes… a squire,”Raboniel said, and this time the pause was not from pain but from astonishment. “This will shock the others. So much of what we have achieved together will.” There was an amusement to her voice, and a grief, and what Navani thought might have been a hope.

“There is one final part to our experiment,” said Navani. 

“Of course,” said Raboniel. She stood, and how had Navani nearly forgotten how she towered? She would only just be able to reach the center of her chest. “Seven thousand years, and you are the first I have permitted to pierce my heart.” A humming. “If you are right… one more life. One that will be full of negotiations.” She tilted her head, as if listening to something. The rhythms. “If I am right… this is as tender a death as possible.” 

Navani, in that moment, wondered if she should be cradling Raboniel, like she did her daughter. In case this was a killing, one of mercy. But no. They were equals. 

Navani took a breath, and plunged the dagger deep. 

[thestormlightnetwork]

KNOCK KNOCK STORMLIGHT MOOTS I FINALLY FINISHED THAT FUCKING ONESHOT

[cosmereplay]

For those who can't wait for more Renarin content, I've updated my fic Renarin's Special Interest (rated General, 2000 words, RoW spoilers) to include a piece of commissioned art, done by chickengk aka thebridge4chicken on instagram! Check out their Stormlight art!

[stormscience]

New Chapter of A Bridge Too Far

Please mind the archive warnings!

[iberriss]

Sons of Tanavast

Hi everyone! I'm brand new to the stormlight fandom scene and wanted to share my new (and ongoing) fic with you all.

It's a long fic focused on what happens to Kaladin after RoW, so contains a lot of spoilers. Completely canon-divergent as I explore a new AU. I've been posting regular updates and almost have part 1 of 3 completed.

[chasmborn]

literally the fic is basically done i just need a name for her ughhh

“I do like my old name, it’s just not right.” “Do you like it, or do you fear letting go of it?” “Storm off,” she laughed, Design buzzing along. “We can build something from Shalash? She is the Herald to your order, as good a model for being a woman of change as any.” “If I wanted to name myself for a woman of change, I’d just steal Jasnah’s name.”

(basically done is relative btw. there are still things i want to add but i'm hung up on the name) (suggestions appreciated because i have very mixed feelings about her current name in the fic)

[just-another-t-word-blog]

Captain Glower

A Stormlight Archives fanfiction

Summary: Kaladin has developed a reputation for being very stern while in uniform. Adolin has made it his mission to get him to break character

Meant to be platonic but could be perceived as shipping. Whatever floats your goat 😊🙃

SPOILER WARNING: TAKES PLACE AROUND OR AFTER OATHBRINGER

⚠️⚠️WARNING!!!⚠️⚠️ This is, as per usual, a tickle heavy fanfiction. No like, no read. Thank you 💙

Kaladin prided himself on his ability to command respect in any room he walked into.

This was, of course, a side effect of his reputation. His title of "Stormblessed" echoed through the halls of Urithiru, passing to and from it's inhabitants in awed whispers.

He stood tall, blue eyes locked forward as he stood at rest by the doorway to a small tavern that had popped up within the fabled city. He had been asked to make an appearance for their opening night, both to draw in customers and to keep them from getting too rowdy.

He wasn't the only soldier in the room, several striking blue uniforms speckled the crowd. He had given them permission to celebrate, seeing no reason to make them all guard the one entrance. So, he stood, quiet and firm, turning away offered drinks and watching his friends have fun.

A glint of gold sweeping the crowd caught his eye. A mop of blonde hair, speckled with Alethi black, peaked over the sea of people, eyes squinting as they searched for...

Him.

Adolin grinned, holding his drink up high as he cut through the room. He approached Kaladin with a knowing look on his face, standing beside him and mirroring the "at rest" pose.

"Hello, bridge boy."

Kaladin grunted at the nickname. Keeping his gaze forward. "Hello, brightlord Adolin." He said, keeping an even tone.

Adolin scoffed, falling out of the pose. "So formal," he laughed, moving to stand in front of the radiant. Kaladin kept his eyes forward. He was a good half-hand taller than the prince, so it wasn't hard to continue watching the bar.

"Was there something you needed, brightlord Adolin?" He asked, glancing down to meet his eyes. He had hoped his expression said "storm off" well enough that the older man would get the message, but instead he was met with one of his signature smiles.

"Kaladin, it's a party! Get out of your corner and have a drink!" Adolin said, gesturing to the room behind him. Kaladin shook his head.

"I have a duty here tonight. I was asked to be here for security."

"No," Adolin said, almost scolding. "You were asked to be here as a token appearance. No one is making you stand there and guard the door."

Kaladin sniffed, looking forward again. "No, thank you."

Adolin frowned, moving back to stand beside him.

Kaladin was content to stand in silence, pointedly ignoring the glances Adolin gave him. In all honesty, the radiant was not in the brightest of spirits tonight, he only came out for the event knowing that staying in his quarters alone would only make his gloom worse.

"Hey, Kaladin," Adolin started. "How many Herdazians does it take to change a gemstone lantern?"

Kaladin sighed, looking over at him. He almost let a smirk slip as he saw his friends excitement. "How many?"

"Doesnt matter how many, they'll always come up short."

The blonde snickered, smiling over at Lopen who teasingly called out an "I heard that!" As he struggled to peer over his tablemates.

Kaladin offered a smile, huffing through his nose. Adolin frowned. “Hey, is everything okay?” Adolin asked, voice shifting into concern.

Kaladin shrugged. “Just on duty.”

Adolin hummed, crossing his arms. “So, being mopey is how you captain a squad of elite supernatural soldiers?”

“Im not being mopey. This is my serious face. Im serious.”

“Convincing. But I don’t think even on more stressful missions you’ve glared at anyone so much.”

Kaladin shot him a look.

“See! Like that!” Adolin grinned. “Captain Stormblessed, more like Captain Grumpy.” He aimed a few teasing pokes into his friends side, not missing how he tensed in response.

Adolin continued his prodding, rambling to himself.

“Maybe not a threatening enough name. Hmm… snarl? No, too specific…”

Poke.

“Glare? No…”

Another poke.

“Ah! Yes! Captain Glower.”

In a great show of stubbornness, Kaladin remained where he stood, but his tan face tinged bright red. Adolin grinned, seeing Kaladin struggling not to crack.

Kaladin finally grabbed Adolins hands, pushing them away. He huffed, bringing back that malicious look, he stared the prince down.

Adolin raised an eyebrow.

“I think you know just as well as I do, you don’t scare me, bridge boy. I know your weakness.”

Suddenly, he wrenched his hands away from Kaladins grasp, lunging for his sides. Kaladin reeled back, falling into a startled fighting stance.

The tavern was packed, neither of them had much room to maneuver, only about an arms span away from the nearest person on all sides.

Adolin lunged again, bearing left, forcing Kaladin to dodge further into the tavern. Now a brightlord on a mission stood between him and the only way out.

“You know how to get me to stop, Kaladin.” He said, a little louder than Kaladin would have liked. The statement earned a few curious glances from the patrons, members of Bridge 4 calling out encouragements to his assailant.

I’ll have to make them pay for that in training. Kaladin thought, wincing as original bridge men started calling out spots. They knew well their captain would never back down from a fight, so they knew exactly why he was avoiding this one.

He slowly backed up, hoping it would be enough of a deterrent to let the prince drop it, but he ran into someone. A short someone.

Someone who recently got his second arm back.

“Oi, goncho.” Lopen said, quickly pulling Kaladins arms behind his back. Kaladins heart sank into his stomach. “I’ll forgive that little joke of yours earlier and do you this favor, IF, I can call on you for a favor of my own when the time comes. Deal?”

“Deal.” Adolin said, not hesitating.

Kaladin felt himself begin to panic, frantically pulling at his arms. Lopen didn’t budge. He whipped his head back and forth, trying to look pleadingly back at the traitor holding him.

“Lopen! Lopen, you know damn well I’ll get my revenge tenfold once this is over. Do you really want to be part of this?” He tried, doing his best to look threatening from his compromised position. Lopen shrugged, almost looking indifferent.

Kaladin looked forward again, Adolin having crept up while he was distracted. He had his eyes trained on Kaladins face, the terrifying gaze that proved he was a decendent of The Blackthorn sent a chill down the radiants spine. Not one of fear, no.

One of giddy anticipation.

“Come on, Kal.” Adolin teased. “Loosen up a bit! All I want is a smile.”

Kaladin gritted his teeth, pointedly looking away from Adolins hovering, wriggling fingers. He glanced to the side, catching the playful expressions on his friends faces as they watched. No one was going to rescue him.

He closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest and accepting his fate.

“So dramatic.”

Kaladin tried (and failed) to fold himself in half as fingers collided with his torso. He bit his lip hard, earning a laugh from the crowd as his muffled sounds of struggle escaped him.

He struggled to keep his breathing under control, huffing and gasping as Adolin explored for new, more sensitive, places. The beginnings of a ticklish smile pulled at his features.

Adolin was so dead when this was over.

Kaladin stubbornly kept his head down, not wanting to give Adolin the satisfaction of seeing him crumble.

Adolin was not deterred. He scribbled at his sides, drilled into his ribs, squeezed at any muscle that earned him a flinch or a gasp. It wasn’t until his hands wandered to his hips that he got any real prize. Testing, he dug his thumbs right into the bone.

Kaladin, honest to the almighty, squealed.

Kaladin arched his back, trying to throw off the hands that were firmly latched onto the spot that broke him. He threw his head back, nearly head-butting Lopen, as a stream of frantic cackling escaped.

Adolins face softened at the sound, a fondness warming him from within as he listened. Kaladins laugh was a happy thing, laced with hiccups and pitchy tittering, and Adolin was sure he would have been begging if he hadn’t wasted so much breath holding his reactions in.

Adolin switched spots again, mimicking the same hand motion as he dug into his lower ribs. Kaladin guffawed, not bothering to hold back anymore. The floodgates were open for good.

His knees gave out under him, Lopen barely keeping them both up.

“You know, you’d think if you’re trying so hard to get out of this you could use the Stormlight in any of the gemstones around you to pull yourself away.” Adolin said. Kaladin would have flushed red again if he weren’t already blushing from the tips of his ears all the way down his chest.

Adolin shifted gears, seeing his friend gasping for breath. He lightened his touch, gently scribbling and dragging his nails up and down Kaladins sides, then ribs, then back down to his stomach. Despite the change, Kaladin still giggled hard,

Adolin leaned closer, whispering in Kaladins ear. “Admit you’re loving this and I’ll stop.”

“What?! Storm off-“ the gruff response was cut off by a stream of high pitched giggling as Adolin used a lock of Kaladins own hair to flick lightly around his ear and jaw. The prince cooed as his shoulder shot up to try and protect the area.

Adolin kept at it, feathering around his neck, while the other hand returned to latch onto his hip again.

Kaladin shrieked.

“Using his own hair, gon? Now that is cruel.” Lopen said before gently blowing a stream of air across Kaladins other ear, laughing as he struggled to choose a side to protect.

“Hey, I had to get creative. It’s not like I’m going to cut it or anything, I’m just using it to my advantage.”

“Both of you shut up!” Kaladin cried between hysterics. Adolin feigned a gasp, complete with a slack jaw and a hand on his chest. “Well now you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

Kaladins eyes widened, shaking his head wildly.

“No! No! Wait! I’ll say it!” He begged, pulling up a knee to his chest to push Adolin away. Adolin pulled his hands back, putting them on his hips.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

Kaladin looked around. Most of his companions were ignoring the display now for the most part, having gone back to their drinks and card games. He sighed, looking up at Adolin, slouched in Lopens grasp.

“Fine. I like it, okay? I enjoy it. Now will you leave me be?” Kaladin meant to be more commanding, but it came out as a tired plea. Adolin smiled.

“You have to say the word.”

Kaladin looked up at him incredulously, Lopen snickering behind him. He took a deep breath.

“I like being tickled. There, happy?”

Adolin grinned, nodding, and gesturing to Lopen to let him go. He slumped forward, letting Adolin catch him and guide him into a nearby chair.

Kaladin breathed deeply, trying to get his heart to slow down. Adolin sat beside him, leaning against the table. He looked over at the next table, clearing his throat.

“Pay up, Rock.”

Kaladin started, sitting up straight and looking over as the large horneater stood and made his way to the bar, picking up a large drink of some kind and setting it down in front of the high prince. Rock grumbled, not making eye contact with his captain as he made his way back to his seat.

“I told you I could get him to admit it. Don’t be such a sore loser.”

Kaladin shot a deadly glare towards Rock.

“You told him?!”

The room broke into raucous laughter, and the former bridge leader slid down in his chair as if to disappear under the table.