Jed's POV

The large hoofs of the mount beneath me beat the ground as we gallop along a well hidden path, following after Syl and Adolin. I try not to think about what had happened the day before, instead focusing on the rhythm of the horse beneath me. It feels strange for me to be riding a horse other than Hamais, but I was still too worried about his leg to push him with a trip so far away. I left him to rest at the stables after giving thorough instructions as to how he is to be treated in my stead. I was given a tall, sturdy filly to ride, and I find myself grateful for her long legs. At this rate, we may catch up to the siblings within a few hours.

I wasn't told this horse's name, but because of the silver, dappled coat she bares, I've been calling her Grey. It feels better to have something to call her- everyone deserves to have a name. The last time that we stopped, I tugged her long mane into a few braids to avoid having the coarse hair whip at my cheeks, the way that it had been for a few hours. My face still stings at the thought of it. Hamais' mane is cut short so that doesn't happen, but this filly's hair reaches nearly to her chest muscles. It looks beautiful, I will admit, but it does little good for anything else.

Grey is much more wild and afraid than Hamais, easily spooking at the slightest rustle of a bush, but she is fast. She couldn't hold a candle to Lasreal's speed, though, but then again, this is a land beast whereas he is no ordinary horse. So, I can't fairly compare Grey to him. I give her neck a pat in consolation and redirect my thoughts. When I think of Lasreal, I can't help but think of Lyra, as well. The two are one in the same, after all, even if the Princess doesn't realize it. The Fates did not chose Lasreal as her mount at random- they share the same, uncontrollable spirit, one that everyone looks at from a distance with awe on their faces. Many are too afraid to get close, but there is rarely a person who cannot admire the fire in their eyes, the freedom that they were born to claim. There is no way that you could ever hope to contain something as wild and reckless as the two of them, and I find something about them so unbelievably beautiful. Whether together or apart, Lyra and Lasreal resemble each other uncannily.

Realizing that I had failed in my attempts to keep my mind from wandering to Lyra, I shake my head and focus in on my surroundings. Looking down at the hardening mud, I slow the filly to a walk and pull her up beside a pair of tracks, undoubtedly made by two horses. It is possible that two other riders had found their way onto this path within the past few hours, but it is doubtful. This particular rout was originally a deer trail that Kaladin showed us, marked only by landmarks that he had pointed out, things otherwise camouflaged to any other stranger. Like a group of boulders with one small rock just to the right of a larger one, or moss that grew sideways on a certain fallen log. Even things as small as a bird nest in a certain kind of tree serve as land marks to us, so it is unlikely that a pair of random travelers had managed to follow the trail perfectly. Just in case, though, I keep Grey at a walk and creep towards a clearing up ahead. We are so deep into the woods at this point, that seeing anyone but Adolin and Syl would just be unrealistic. Unless you had grown up in these parts or gotten yourself hopelessly lost, no one but trained mercenaries would be able to follow the subtle marks that our leader instructed us to follow.

When we were smaller, Kaladin would do this sort of thing all of the time, as training exercise for our observation skills. I had always been quite good at tracking, so doing this was never very straining for me. But doing this is how he find our secret meeting places if we ever got separated, and even how we get back to campsites when we were sent out for hunting or scavenging for wood. If you know how to do it, it is really quite easy. Or it is to me, at least.

Adolin is a sharp boy, but even he gets lost sometimes and Syl has to go track him down and drag him back home. I don't think she really minds, though. I know that she likes having time alone with her brother, where they don't feel the need to put up the front of bickering constantly. The two are much closer than they like to appear to be, and used to be alone with only each other for company all of the time before they came to Kaladin. Even though they argue and threaten each other often, I can tell that they love one another very much.

The sun had fallen long ago, making it easy to see the warm glow of a dimming campfire up ahead, past a load of brush. I dismount Grey and lead her towards it, careful to avoid crushing twigs to announce our presence. When I peek past the brush, what I see makes me smile.

Syl and Adolin are sleeping next to each other, an empty flask discarded onto the ground at their feel. Syl's bow and a quiver of arrows lay within reach of her, and she has her head resting against her brother's shoulder. Adolin has a sword resting beside him, and he has his mop of blonde hair laying atop his sister's flame colored head. The two of them are snoring softly, proof that they had shared a drink sometime earlier. The two of them have their backs pressed up against a fallen tree and are facing me, though neither of them stir. Kaladin would be shamed to know of their drinking when they are so vulnerable, and I make a mental note to scold them both for it later. But for now, I leave them as they are.

I lead Grey to where the other two horses are tied, and quietly add her in to the group. The two bays greet the newest member with soft knickers and I give them all a pat on the neck before getting to work with unloading the grey filly. I take the bags from her back and offer some water, which she sips heartily. I also give some to the other mounts, who accept gratefully. I feed Grey and pat her down before leaving her for the night.

As I am carrying the saddle and rug to the opposite side of the fire, I see Adolin lift his head from the corner of my eye. The first thing he finds is the sword beside him, but he recognizes me before he draws it.

"Jed?" He croaks, squinting at me over the dulling flames. Adolin head tensed a little in his surprise and nearly sat up, but then looks down at his sleeping sister. Syl's head had begun to slip at the action so Adolin lifts a hand to gently redirect her head to his shoulder. He apparently decided he doesn't want to disturb her, as he leans back against the log behind him and relaxes his sword arm.

Adolin keeps his hand against the side of his sister's head, partially covering her ear as of to block out our voices. I'm surprised she wasn't the one to wake at my presence, but she must have been the one who drank the most, because she snores on like a bear. She is really letting herself go.

I smile a little at the tenderness he's shown the red headed woman. "You really let your guards down. I've been here for nearly twenty minutes and you just now wake up. You shouldn't be drinking when you're out like this, Kal would be ashamed at you two."

Adolin blinks a few times as if he isn't seeing straight, and depending on what was in that empty flask, he may very well be seeing double. "So what're you doin' here? Thought you'd be off with your Princess."

I clench my jaw involuntarily as I set the saddle in the dust, then unfold and shake the hair from the horse blanket and tuck it around my shoulders.

Aparently this reminds Adolin of the chilly night and fixes the blanket, tucking it over Syl's legs. "What happened?" He questions with a yawn, catching on to my silence.

There is a pile of wood resting beside the fire, so I take some misshapen logs and sticks and toss them into the lowering fire. I keep my silence for a moment longer, poking the embers with a stick."She's marrying Sam." I say, just above a whisper.

His fair brows shoots up into his hairline and his eyes widen in disbelief, but he doesn't raise his voice, considerate of Syl. "Honestly?"

I give a nod and sit down, stick still in hand. I shift the embers around until they catch a dry leaf from one of the new logs on fire. "Yeah. Kaladin sent me after you. That was after I attempted to maul the Prince."

"Woah, you really went for the Prince? You're usually so soft natured. Surely she had a reason for gettin' with him?"

"Of course she did," I pause a moment, feeling guilty for the earlier scorn in my tone. I let out a frustrated sigh. "She was going to be forced to marry Alphonse if Sam hadn't stepped in and..."

"Stepped in and...?" Adolin urges me to continue, tilting his head a bit.

I feel my heart soften, realizing for the first time how uncalled for my actions were. I had no right to attack Sam, he didn't do a thing wrong. In fact, he did what I couldn't.

When I speak, my words are a whisper. "He saved her."

Adolin has his eyes downcast and I can tell that he is getting tired again. "So why'd you get pissed at 'em?"

I feel my chest ache as I break my stick in two and throw it into the fire, acting like the smoke is what is making my eyes moisten. "Because," I answer, pretending that my heart isn't breaking as I lay my head on Grey's saddle. I breathe in the familiar scent of leather and wood smoke, trying to calm my weak chin. By the time I speak again, my voice is full of hopeless defeat. "I love her."

~

Sam's POV

The throne room is eerily quiet when I enter and the King seems to be expecting me as promised. He has a book in his lap with one hand resting below his chin as he reads, seemingly bored with the material. He glances up with dark brown eyes and I raise my chin to meet his gaze as I stride forward. I pretend not to let the closing doors at my back faze me, but the loud creak of hinges makes it difficult to ignore. Out of my many weeks spent here, I have yet to see the huge double doors closed.

I straighten my spine and lift my head, clasping my hands together behind my back. "I appreciate you accepting my company, Your Highness." I say, making certain that my voice is loud and clear in a way that asserts authority. My footfall clicks throughout the otherwise silent room as I approach the King's Throne.

"Samson," The older man inquires, closing his book without marking a page. "I would like to know what sort of trick you are playing at." His eyes hold all of the ice of winter, but I do not shiver before him.

I smile charmingly, coming to a stop at the base of the steps that lead up to the three throne chairs. "I am certain that I am completely unaware of the matter you are speaking of." I say, voice all pleasantries. Of course I know what he is getting at, but it is just so entertaining to play his games.

Since before I came to Nordic, I knew just what sort of man Aizen was. That was the reason behind the lazy, boastful facade I put on for the first few weeks I was here. If I played the selfish Prince, there would be little reason for him to suspect me of anything. Now, though, he has seen through my ploy and is not at all fond of my intentions.

Aizen rises from his throne, the purple cover that hangs from his shoulders flourishing around him like liquid silk. He slowly descends the steps towards me, eyes colder than any season I've endured. "Quit toying, boy," His voice is low and angry as he narrows his eyes, the bridge of his nose pinching in a silent growl. "I should have sent you away long before you were able to corrupt my daughter."

I make a tsk sound and hold my ground as the King stops on the step in front of me. The smile hasn't left my face since I first entered the room. "And risk making enemies with Whales? Surely my father would not have appreciated his trusted alliance turning his son away? You must be aware by now that he is not a forgiving man." There is a hint of amusement in my voice as I tilt my head to look directly into the King's unforgiving eyes, challenging him directly.

Aizen lets out a severe bark of laughter, a cruel sound that echoes throughout the massive room. I wonder how many times he's laughed this way in Lyra's face. "What about you, then? Have you not told him that you've stolen his bride? I doubt that he will find your decision very tasteful."

My gaze hardens and my fingers curl behind me, nails digging into my palms. "Lyra was never a piece of property for him to simply take." My tone of voice has changed to match my eyes and I know my feeling are out in the open.

Aizen snickers behind his beard. "Ah, so I suppose you truly do love her, then."

I shrug him off. "Of course, I would not have asked for her hand, otherwise. Some of us are still old fashioned that way."

The King let's out a sigh and moves to walk past me, hands clasped behind his robes. "So, indulge me. Why did you wish to speak with me, Samson? Surely you do not ask for my blessing. You know that I will not give it."

I no longer force my smile, letting it drop. "I have no intention of asking your permission. I have come to ask a favor of you, for Lyra, if nothing else."

Aizen looks like he wants to laugh. "Ah, Prince Samson asking me for help. And what would this favor be?"

I turn on my heel to make eye contact. "Postpone the execution of Danak Staph."

Now he does laugh. "Why would you want me to do such a thing?" His vioice takes on a more serious note. "He attempted to take my daughter's life. I cannot allow him to live."

"I want him freed because that is what Lyra wishes. I think it would be wise to allow her to make this decision for herself. She needs the opportunity to make such a choice for herself if she is to be a good Queen." I say in attempt to persuade him. I do think that Lyra needs to be the one to make this decision, but not because it would make her a better Queen. She will already be a fantastic ruler, with or without this burden on her shoulders.

The King pauses his pacing around me to look me in the face. He has his brows slightly raised, though I doubt that it is in surprise. His voice is as mean as ever when he opens his mouth. "How touching of you to care for her so," he lets out a rumbling chuckle, a cold, cruel one. "But I suppose I may as well inform you now, since you are putting on this pathetic display."

"Inform me of what?" I demand, feeling myself tense. Had something happened that I haven't been informed about? I can't help the uneasiness that coils in my stomach.

Aizen sighs. "I suppose you wouldn't have heard yet."

"Aizen," I growl. "What happened?"

The King raises a thick brow at my use of his name, but seems to be mildly impressed at my gaudiness. It seems to take a very long time, but he eventually breaks his stare and tells me what I hope is a lie. But in the way that he says it, I know he is telling the truth.

His words seem to ring in my ears for long after I leave the throne room and sprint for the dungeon. "Danak Staph has been murdered."

~

Author's Note

Okay, so I was looking back at that one chapter "A Tidbit", and I want to apologize really quick. I will not change the names of Kaladin, Syl or Adolin. You've convinced me, thank you for talking me back! Also, I saw a lot of comments about Kaladin's age, which I accidentally left out of the extra chapter. The truth is that I actually haven't come up with a solid age for him yet, but I'm feeling around 24 years old. That may change in the re-write, though.

Ah, and I made a little character bee-boop thing for Lyra that I posted with this chapter. It sort of goes along with how Jed was talking about Lyra and Lasreal and their likeness to each other. I love that, honestly. Those two are fantastic. I may have mentioned before, but the inspiration for Lasreal's personality came from my horse (whom I no longer own, sadly). Coco was a butt head like Lasreal, but I loved him dearly, a lot like Lyra and Las. Horses are one of the most beloved things to me, right up there with my faith and writing. I think the bond between a horse and rider are amazing, and I so much enjoy writing them!

That touchy feely moment between Syl and Adolin was a lot of fun to write! It comes largely from my own relationship with my brother, though he usually rejects my affection, I know he loves me as much as I do him. I'm proud of our tight relationship, especially when so many other siblings fight a lot or just out right hate each other. Yeah, I love my little-big brother (he's younger than me but much bigger physically). He's a big inspiration for my writing scenes with moments between Lance and Lyra and Syl and Adolin. The sibling love stuff. Yeah. I love my brother!

Anyway, thanks a ton for reading (as always!) And I love you guys so much. Please let me know of any errors I undoubtedly missed in my brief read over of this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed!

P.S.

Please don't hurt too much for poor Jed, things will get better for him! I wouldn't let the poor Darling suffer like that forever. (And no, his suffering doesn't end because he dies. I won't kill him!).

I think that's all I had to say for now, so if you have any questions, I'd be glad to answer them the best that I can!

Thanks so much for being fabulous, Nuggets, I simply do adore you!

Lots and lots of love from this fledgling of an author,

~A.