In which Dax does the right thing...?
Dax rocked back on his heels, surprised despite himself by the Aes Sedai’s words. His last conversation with Avarie rang loud in his mind; he could not remember secific words after so long, but her tone remained...first gentle and pleading, then grasping and sharp as she realized he would not give in to her demands. He had expected the same here, not...whatever it was Elia had just given him. How did this happen? Surely Elia took Heartleaf...it had been she who took them upstairs after all and she had clearly stated she did not want children.
Confused and uncomfortable, the Gaidin backed up until his shoulders pressed against the door, his fingers opening and closing as he sought for words. What I would do… He didn’t want children. He especially didn’t want children with an Aes Sedai. So why did you sleep with not one, but two? Jem laughed, and Dax swore out loud, his fist crashing against the door. Then he turned, yanked it open, and strode into the hallway beyond, ignoring the Indigo entirely as he made his escape.
The Tairen made it to the front door of the infirmary before his steps began to lag. In the outer corridor he paused, his thoughts scrambling back and forth. Elia had made no demands, issued no edicts. She was an Aes Sedai, she had stated a truth that could not be questioned. She was Ravak’s sister… Light! and beautiful, and pregnant. Elia was...Elia…
Elia is afraid.
Something palpably broke within the Gaidin as that thought occurred to him. Dax turn on his heel, striding back into the domain of the Yellow Ajah with his jaw set. Christianne barred his path eventually. He stared at the Andoran with flat blue eyes, then simply lifted her by the shoulders, setting her to the side as if she weighed nothing. “Excuse me,” he said calmly.
He bowed as he entered Elia’s room. “I am sorry for leaving,” he said, not quite able to meet her eyes. He did not apologize often; the phrase felt awkward on his tongue. “I needed space to...collect myself.” He straightened, and this time he moved to the chair near her bed and sat.
He tried for words, failed, then tried again. “No child deserves to grow up feeling unwanted,” he said finally. “Especially not because its father is a selfish prick who runs from his problems.” He forced himself to look at Elia’s face. “What kind of man would I be, to do that to my own child?” And what of Avarie’s baby?
Thankfully it was easy to ignore his brother’s voice, because Elia’s reaction mattered far more.