(Untitled)

[taishar_malkier]

It's early morning. Nynaeve is still asleep. This isn't a guess; he knows, now. Every moment, like breathing, he knows.

Dawn over the lake is slow, and misty, and beautiful.

Lan is sitting on a rock, cross-legged, his sword across his knees. In silence, he watches mist coil, and the sun drift upwards.

The ko'di is a meditation that isn't

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[cutting_edgex23]

X is good at meditation, too.

But right now she's on her way back from a very early work-out, hair damp and curling ever so slightly.

Her trajectory changes when she sees Lan, though she doesn't interrupt.

She just settles within eyeshot, leaning up against a nearby rock.

Watching Lan.

Waiting.

It is still good to see him. He was gone a long time.

[taishar_malkier]

Lan knows she's there. Of course. The ko'di means being more attuned to your surroundings, not less.

But she's X-23, and he is who he is, and the morning is very still. They have never minded silence, either one of them.

So it's several slow, even breaths before his gaze shifts to her.

[cutting_edgex23]

She doesn't quite smile.

Not quite.

Or maybe it's just a trick of the early light, faint and almost fragile.

"You are okay."

Beat.

"Enough."

[taishar_malkier]

Lan inclines his head slightly.

If there's something of wry, ironic humor -- and if the harsh planes of his face are softer, less closed off, for a moment -- perhaps that, too, is only a trick of the light.

(Or perhaps not.)