Out of the Woods (Fanfic)

Welcome to the Warder Yards. This is the place for Warder and Trainee roleplays. Informal non-training interactions take place here, as well as some extended role plays.
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Welcome to the Warder Yards. This is the place for Warder and Trainee roleplays. Informal non-training interactions take place here, as well as some extended role plays. Yet these events may take place at any area of the Tower, and sometimes outside of it, since the images to the left merely serves as inspiration towards the sceneries of your stories. Channelers are always welcome, and might even find his or her bondmate through the threads that are displayed below.
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Lugh
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Joined: January 5th, 2018, 4:51 am

Out of the Woods (Fanfic)

Post by Lugh » August 30th, 2019, 10:22 pm

Peyton Peyton moved her shoulders, wincing a little as the muscles pulled. She had been no stranger to hard work, but there was nothing quite like a chime spent scrubbing the stairs of the Grey Tower to find muscles that wanted to ache. Sighing, she blew an errant strand of hair from her face, trying to tuck it behind her ear even though it seemed determined to flit this way and that.

She smoothed her white Novice dress as she walked, and could scarcely believe she wore it. Oh she'd had the occasional daydream about attending the White Tower, being noticed by an Aes Sedai and taken for some great adventure; but the truth so far had been much less of a gleeman's tale.

Horror had brought her here, horror narrowly avoided and some witnessed through others. Whitecloaks had descended on her town, taking over and making a show of force in the area. She wondered how many other towns had been pressured to allow a delegation to camp nearby, the men slowly convinced it was for their own good until too many wolves lurked for the sheep to do much.

Shaking her head, she sighed in disgust. There was little point in blaming those like her father or uncle. Truly what could they have done once the White Tower fell, and the Tower guard no longer patrolled. If not the Whitecloaks, it would have been someone else.

Her thoughts were interupted as she curtsied, just barely realizing an Aes Sedai was passing her in time. The woman had noticed her almost slip of course, but as Peyton kept her head lowered properly and eyed the fringes of blue on the woman's dress, she allowed it to pass. Breathing a sigh of relief, Peyton sat at the bench and took a moment to look around.

The Warder Yards were busy. Peyton had learned some about the men and women who trained in this part of the Grey Tower, and she knew their own training was no less intense than her own. As she cast her gaze about the training rings, she smiled when she noticed several other Novices, and even a few Accepted circling a particularly interesting spar. Not that she knew anything about weapons, but as Peyton enjoyed the broad shoulders of the one, she had to admit she could see the appeal of a little spectating.
Beron Beron was used to the sights, smells and sounds of the Warder Yards. In fact, he would wager that he could traverse its entirety blindfolded if he had to. Each of the rings had drank his sweat and occasionally blood into it's soil, and he found the timelessness of it's routines a balm.

He had been working on his sword forms, the classes and Jival who ran them, giving his training ring as much space as they could. His body was tense, muscles sore from working on perfecting many of the forms as he made up for training time lost. The bundle in his head, that small knot that was Isla grew fuzzy and a little distant, and he smiled as he imagined his bond partner was likely healing or teaching a class.

Seeing the slowly gathering gaggle of White and Banded dresses, Beron reasoned that a couple of the Ji'val were likely sparring. While it was seldom a reason for it, he knew from experience that having an audience could often inspire each of the sparring men to dig a little deeper, push themselves harder. And with curiousity getting the better of him, he moved through the paths.
Peyton Peyton was watching the spar, and had to admit that both of the men moved like water over rocks. It was hard to tell who was better, both of them seemed well matched, and slowly it seemed like a pattern was forming in their movements. A bit of testing, a sudden darting attack from one, which would have the other man rolling or twisting away like a grass snake.

Peyton was impressed, and she smiled when she saw a couple of the other Novices wince in sympathy as the taller man took a sharp blow to the knee. But as she looked at the pair, she noticed the man behind them. Beron, she thought to herself, her throat catching a little as she saw him again. The last time she had seen him, he had been filthy, the blood and dirt of battle clinging to clothes he had travelled in. She had also learned later that he would have been in disguise, the shabby clothing and rusty weapons a way of surprising the Whitecloaks.

Light, he's beautiful she thought to herself, a little flush creeping into her cheeks as she realized the thought. He moved so much smoother than the younger men, and she had seen his strength, seen the power in his arms. And suddenly, she also realized she was seeing him staring right at her.
Beron Beron had been watching the sparring, and he was glad to see that both of the Ji'val were doing well. Their swords moved through the forms with a good speed, and even better sure control. Feints and parries were smooth, and the rhythm of their spar was easy to follow as he circled for a better view. As he moved past a few chattering Novices, he noticed they stiffened slightly, relaxing only when it became apparent he had come to watch and not chastise.

After a few moments, he felt a nagging sensation, a sense of being watched that was hard to describe. Still, such senses were often the difference between an ambush and spotting the enemy, and so he looked through the rest of the gathered crowd. And spied a young Novice, watching him from her seat beneath a bench.

Curious, he moved towards her and it was only when he saw her hands clenching each other in her lap, that he realized he had adopted the stern, steely gaze common to many of the Grey Tower Warders. Relaxing his face, he tried to place the reason this young woman was so familiar, and he did smile when he recalled her from the rescue mission.

"Peyton, peace favour you today. I didn't think we would see you in the Warder Yards anytime soon, new Novices are kept busy to keep out of trouble," he said with a chuckle as he sat down on his heels.

"Just enjoying a chance to get away from the wash water, or did you need anything? I meant it when I said Isla Sedai and I would help all of you settle in, though I warn you, we cannot get between the Mistress of Novices and her charges," Beron asked gently.
Peyton "Actually, I was looking for you," Peyton began, and then stopped as she realized just how that sounded.

"I just meant, I have been thinking...well, I don't know if it's allowed..." she stumbled, uncharacteristically flustered and self conscious.

"What is it Peyton?" Beron asked, his voice the calm, certain strength she remembered from the terrifying flight through the woods.

"I want to learn to fight. Like you, like Isla.." she blurted in a rush, stopping when she realized he wasn't arguing with her.

"You want to learn to fight? Well what does that mean Peyton?" he asked, trying to suss out her answer she realized.

"I saw both of you use the sword. I had no idea Aes Sedai, that women could fight like that. I had heard some tales of course, but they always seemed like Hunters for the Horn. Someone not quite real, but I saw Isla fight, I saw her make those men pay," Peyton said, her voice breaking with constrained anger.

"Well I won't teach you to fight if it's about revenge. But if you want to learn to wield a weapon, there is no restriction from that Peyton. Come with me," Beron said as he stood, and moved over to an empty training ring. Peyton followed, her mind a blur as she wonder if he meant to start right now. She was exhausted, her shoulders hurt, but she was not going to back down now.
Beron Beron was surprised when Peyton expressed an interest in learning to fight. Her words raised a few alarms in him though, as he realized that anger might be motivating her more than anything. He had fought to keep the smile from his face when he realized she clearly held Isla in high regard, and when she had finished he had simply stood.

Wordlessly he led her to the training ring, noticing her following behind him and he moved to the rack of training weapons. Choosing two training swords, testing the weight and balance of each, he passed one to Peyton. "We train with these here at the Grey Tower, but the weight and balance is close to real steel. It also helps to build stamina and strength, let me see you lift that like so," Beron said, as he stood in front of her and lifted his into a middle guard.

She took a deep breath, and attempted it. Beron had to admit she showed a willingness to learn, but his keen eyes hovered over her form, her legs and the trembling in her wrist as she tried in vain to hold the weapon in place. "Strike, any slash or poke will do, I will block," he said calmly.

Peyton narrowed her feet, and was forced to adjust her back foot he noticed as she swung the sword wildly, and as she slashed the weapon through the air, she over extended and the point simply planted itself in the ground as the weight proved to much for her. Beron gave her a moment to collect herself, and when she tried unsuccessfully a second time, he spied tears on her face as she stood defeated.

"Peyton, sit over there, I will be but a moment," he said gently as he took both the weapons and placed them back on the rack. He could see the defeat in her posture and the smear of dirt and sweat on her face. Gently he sat beside her, turning so she could see him, as he gently grabbed her arm, massaging the wrists.

"Peyton, you did not fail just now. You simply started where everyone starts. I was holding weapons such as that when I was a child, most everyone in Saldea does so. It's a fact of life on the Borderlands. I wanted you to see how truly long the road to learning a weapon will be. I will teach you if you still wish, we can continue with the sword, or if it is simply a manner of feeling a need for protection, the dagger. Regardless, there will be exercises and practice to build the strength in your wrists, arms and shoulders," he said as he gently worked the spasms out of the muscles.
Peyton Peyton was furious at herself, she couldn't believe how weak she was. The second time the weapon fell into the sand, its weighted tip too much for her to control, she felt tears of frustration spill out. She had vowed to herself that she would help, she would make the best out of a second chance she'd been given.

It had seemed so simple, but as Beron sat down and took her wrist she paused. His hands were rough, strong and when he began to move her muscles it hurt. But as he explained to her why he'd brought her to the sands, the pain in her muscles lessened and his hands felt good. Light, I'd pay to have him do that to my back and shoulders, she thought with a groan as new muscles protested their brief practice after a long day of Novice chores. And she flushed as she realized just how forward that thought was, and that she was not about to pull away as he took her other wrist.

Thinking about what he had said, she wasn't sure she had the time to learn it all. But the idea he mentioned of daggers, maybe that would be easier she reasoned to herself. "Thank you Beron. I suppose I was a little blind to just how much work it takes to learn. I can see why the Warder Yards is constantly full of warders learning. I should get back, lessons will begin soon. Thank you, and if I can free up the time for lessons, I will send you a message," she said as she took her wrist from his hands, feeling the flush of blood after his massage.

When he nodded and agreed, she heard the chiming of the bells ring across the Warder Yards. "Well, that was good timing. Thank you again Beron Gaidin," she repeated before dashing off towards what would be her last class. A Tairen Novice had noticed her with the Gaidin, and Peyton could tell she was bursting with questions, but Peyton had no desire to feed a rumour mill. She had enough to think of right now, and while the idea of further lessons with Beron was appealing, she knew she was just starting at the Grey Tower.
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