Mistborn #02 The Well of Ascension

bright robes slowly growing more illuminated as the shadows fell away. She seemed to be implying something, something he had not expected to ever hear from her.
    "I am confused," he said, sitting back down in a slow motion. "What of your duty as a Keeper?"
    "It is important," she admitted. "But. . .certain, occasional exceptions must be allowed. This rubbing you found. . .well, perhaps it merits further study before I depart."
    Sazed watched her, trying to read her eyes. What is it I feel ? he wondered. Confused? Dumbfounded?
    Afraid?
    "I cannot be what you wish, Tindwyl," he said. "I am not a man."
    She waved her hand indifferently. "I have had more than enough of 'men' and childbearing over the years, Sazed. I have done my duty to the Terris people. I should like to stay away from them for a time, I think. A part of me resents them, for what was done to me."
    He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand. "I know, Sazed. I took that duty upon myself, and am glad for my service. But. . .during the years spent alone, meeting with the Keepers only on occasion, I found it frustrating that all their planning seemed to be directed at maintaining their status as a conquered people.
    "I only ever saw one man pushing the Synod toward active measures. While they planned how to keep themselves hidden, one man wanted to attack. While they decided the best ways to foil the Breeders, one man wanted to plot the downfall of the Final Empire. When I rejoined my people, I found that man still fighting. Alone. Condemned for fraternizing with thieves and rebels, he quietly accepted his punishment."
    She smiled. "That man went on to free us all."
    She took his hand. Sazed sat, astonished.
    "The men I read about, Sazed," Tindwyl said quietly, "these were not men who sat and planned the best ways to hide. They fought; they sought victory. Sometimes, they were reckless—and other men called them fools. Yet, when the dice were cast and the bodies counted, they were men who changed things."
    Sunlight entered the room in full, and she sat, cupping his hand in hers. She seemed. . .anxious. Had he ever seen that emotion in her? She was strong, the strongest woman he knew. That couldn't possibly be apprehension he saw in her eyes.
    "Give me an excuse, Sazed," she whispered.
    "I should. . .very much like it if you stayed," Sazed said, one hand in hers, the other resting on the tabletop, fingers trembling slightly.
    Tindwyl raised an eyebrow.
    "Stay," Sazed said. "Please."
    Tindwyl smiled. "Very well—you have persuaded me. Let us return to our studies, then."

    Elend walked the top of the city wall in the morning light, sword at his hip clicking against the side of the stonework with each step.
    "You almost look like a king," a voice noted.
    Elend turned as Ham climbed the last few steps up to the wall walk. The air was brisk, frost still crystalline in shadows on the stone. Winter was approaching. Perhaps it had arrived. Yet, Ham wore no cloak—only his usual vest, trousers, and sandals.
    I wonder if he even knows what it is like to be cold , Elend thought. Pewter. Such an amazing talent .
    "You say I nearly look like a king," Elend said, turning to continue walking along the wall as Ham joined him. "I guess Tindwyl's clothing has done wonders for my image."
    "I didn't mean the clothing," Ham said. "I was talking about that look on your face. How long have you been up here?"
    "Hours," Elend said. "How did you find me?"
    "The soldiers," Ham said. "They're starting to see you as a commander, Elend. They watch where you are; they stand a little straighter when you're around, polish their weapons if they know you'll be stopping by."
    "I thought you didn't spend much time with them," Elend said.
    "Oh, I never said that," Ham said. "I spend lots of time with the soldiers—I just can't be intimidating enough to be their commander. Kelsier always wanted me to be a general—I think, deep down, he thought that befriending people was inferior to leading them. Perhaps he was right; men need leaders. I just don't want to be one of them."
    "I do," Elend said, surprised to hear himself say so.
    Ham shrugged. "That's probably a good thing. You are, after all, king."
    "Kind of," Elend said.
    "You're still wearing the crown."
    Elend nodded. "It felt wrong to go without it. It sounds silly, I know—I only wore it for a short time. But, people need to know that someone is still in charge. For a few more days at least."
    They continued to walk. In the