Yes; he had done it. She was in the carriage, and felt that he had placed her there, that his will and his hands had done it, that she owed it to his perception of her fatigue, and his resolution to give her rest. She was very much affected by the view of his disposition towards her, which all these things made apparent. This little circumstance seemed the completion of all that had gone before. She understood him. He could not forgive her, but he could not be unfeeling. Though condemning her for the past, and considering it with high and unjust resentment, though perfectly careless of her, and though becoming attached to another, still he could not see her suffer, without the desire of giving her relief. It was a remainder of former sentiment; it was an impulse of pure, though unacknowledged friendship; it was a proof of his own warm and amiable heart, which she could not contemplate without emotions so compounded of pleasure and pain, that she knew not which prevailed.
Fun fact: some of my writing I actually write out in a notebook before typing it into Google Docs...I was looking for a spare notebook and found this from...I think Christmas
.....I'm about to write either the fluffiest cutesy cavity inducing stories or the most vile explicit shit ever...no in between.
Darerah had showed up unexpectedly, saying she needed to talk to him. Turns out her family was pressuring her to move up the wedding. If she had just said this in front of Renarin, he could have ignored it for a while, but no, she had to tell him in front of Dalinar and Navani. Long story short, now he had to deal with a wedding at the end of the week instead of years away.
So of course he was hiding in a coffee shop, burying his worries in a quadruple mocha.
Kaladin was having a bad day.
His roommate woke him up at fuck o’ clock in the morning knocking at the window because she forgot her keys. Early on during his shift at the coffee shop, he heard on the news that the Blackthorn’s son was getting married, and all he could think about for the next hour was how it was unfair that Tien hadn’t survived long enough to consider getting married and this spoiled brat had.
And then the spoiled brat had shown up in his coffee shop, ordered a quadruple mocha, and sat in the corner for five hours.
It was midnight now, two hours after he should have closed up, but it wasn’t like he was going to kick the son of Dalinar Kholin out.
He did have to sleep eventually, though, because who knew when Shallan would wake him up—today, now. Fuck.
Kaladin walked over to the table and cleared his throat quietly.
There was no response.
He cleared his throat louder.
No response.
Fuck, was he asleep?
He tapped Renarin on the shoulder.
Renarin jolted awake in his seat. “Gah!”
“Sorry, sir,” said Kaladin, “but it’s past midnight and I should have closed up two hours ago. Would you mind?”
Renarin nodded, gathering up his coat. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I don’t generally go falling asleep in coffee shops, but it’s been a long day.” He paused and added, “And please, never call me ‘sir.’”
“Noted,” said Kaladin, picking up the empty cup that had been cooling for hours now. “Congratulations on the wedding, by the way.”
Renarin snorted. “You know, I’d expected a wedding at some indeterminate, far-off time in the future, but have to deal with it? Never thought it would happen. I was brainstorming ways to get out of it before I fell asleep on your table here.”
Kaladin looked at him curiously. “Why are you trying to get out of it?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Take a seat, then. I’ll get my whiskey from the back.”
—
“Don’t get me wrong, if I had to marry a woman, I’d probably pick Darerah. She’s...aesthetically pleasing and she’d be inclined to let me have a boyfriend as long as I wouldn’t come between her and her girlfriend. But…” Renarin hesitated. “It feels more like it’s just to get me out of the way than anything else. Besides, I’d have to deal with Amaram as my father-in-law.”
Kaladin flinched at the name, splattering some of the whiskey he’d been pouring for Renarin across the table. He eyed what was left in the bottle and took a swig. “Go on.”
“Darerah showed up today demanding the wedding be moved up. Now, if she’d just told me, I could have ignored it for a while, but she told Dalinar and Navani as well. So, for obvious reasons, I took the first chance I got to run off and hide in a coffeehouse somewhere.”
Kaladin winced. “Did she say why?” He took another pull from the bottle.
Renarin sighed. “Her family was pressuring her, apparently.”
“Worst kind of pressure, family pressure.”
He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, and the worst bit is I don’t even have a way out of it, other than being married already, but where am I going to find someone willing to marry me and wait until this all blows over, especially at this hour?”
Kaladin hummed and emptied the whiskey bottle. “Hell, I’d marry you just to spite your family and Darerah’s. Her father basically sacrificed my sibling for a brief tactical advantage that didn’t even win anything, and Dalinar just turned a blind eye to a kid barely old enough to enlist being killed for nothing.”
Renarin winced. “I’m sorry to hear that. For what it’s worth, I’d marry you to spite my family as well.”
“You know, there’s a courthouse right around the corner.”
Renarin froze. “You were serious?”
He grinned. “Never mind, then.”
Renarin got up and swung his coat around himself. “No, if you’re serious, come on then. I can’t believe I’m saying this to a barista I met just a few hours ago, but let’s go get married.”
—
Kaladin blearily opened his apartment door, marriage certificate rolled carefully into a tube and held under one arm. He stumbled in, dropped the certificate on the kitchen counter, and turned around to go get some sleep.
Shallan was standing behind him, fire and death in her eyes. “Where the fuck were you?” she demanded. “It’s one in the fucking morning and you were supposed to close three hours ago! I was worried! What if you’d gotten stabbed or something?”
He sighed, rubbing his head. “It’s a long story.”
“Try me.”
“Renarin Kholin turned up in my coffee shop, fell asleep at a table, and I only ended up waking him up at midnight. We talked, had a few drinks. Turns out he was trying to figure out how to get out of this upcoming wedding. So we got married.”
She froze. “Kaladin, you got married to Renarin Kholin on a whim?”
He smiled tiredly, pushed past her, and collapsed on the couch.
