The Beginnings of Trouble [attn: Marla/ Jaryd]

[Locke]

Nasrin

Tears filled her eyes as she ran through Tanchico’s crowded streets. She didn’t know where she was going. She just had to get away from the Docks and the Wind’s Fortune. Hopelessly lost, she collapsed onto the stoop of a building and began to cry. What did she even think she was doing?
~~~ After Jaryd slipped through her father’s clutches, the big smuggler had turned his wrath upon her. “What do you be thinkin, girl!” he roared. She was taller than Stanos, but the man seemed to fill the cabin. “You do be havin some nerve, bringing some man aboard my ship.”

Nasrin flinched back under her father’s tirad. She stood with her head bowed as the accusations rolled over her. Foolish. Insubordinate. Sneak. Liar. She seemed to shrink further as he continued to yell until something snapped. Whether it was Jaryd’s influence or she had simply had enough, Nasrin pushed back. “Do I be your daughter, or a deck hand?” she shouted back hints of an Illianer accent slipping through in her anger. “You do be treatin’ me like I’m no you daughter. If I do be a simple deck hand then you need to be stayin’ out’a my business, Captain!” She stalked forward, holding his gaze, “You do no be havin’ room to judge who I do be spendin’ time wit. I do be knowin’ ‘bout your whores. Did my mother be one’a your whores?”

Her vision flashed as her head snapped to the side. The slap had come out of nowhere. Her face stung and she could taste coppery blood in her mouth. “You! Do no be sayin’ that about her,” Stanos said in a low dangerous voice. She was taller than the burly man, but he still managed to loom. Oh, did he loom. There was murder in his eyes. It was a look, Nasrin hadn’t seen since he had ordered Gregor flogged and abandoned on a deserted island.

“You do no know what you be speaking of. I do be feeding you. I do be clothing you,” he said voice tightly controlled. Nasrin felt her back hit the wall as he pressed closer. I did be killing Gregor for what he did try doin’ ta you. And how do you be repaying me?” His voice slowly climbed into a bellow, “By bringin’ some scoundrel onto Wind’s Fortune an’ callin’ Mina a whore!”

Nasrin did her best to hunker down against his spittle laced tirade. She knew she had made a mistake. Her mother had always been a no go zone. Tears welled up in her eyes as Stanos raised a big meaty fist, continuing to yell. Her knees shook as she slid down the wall trying to make herself small as possible.

That shaky helpless feeling. Here it was again. Just like with Gregor. She couldn’t overpower the big man. Bowing her head, and putting up her hands to protect her head, she could feel something new. Instincts she didn’t know she had reached for it as she gasped out a choked sob, “Father, please. I’m sorry.”

No blows came. Carefully, she looked up. Stanos stood staring off into the distance, his rough hands hung loosely to his sides and he didn’t seem to even be aware of her presence. Unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth, Nasrin pulled herself to her hands and knees, scrambling around the big sea captain and dashing from the room. She never stopped to think as she ran across the deck, down the gangplank and back out into the city.
~~~ As she sat sobbing on the stoop, she heard girl’s voice, “Hey, miss, you ok?”

Looking up, Nasrin recognized the girl from earlier. She was a street urchin. Nasrin guessed she was one as well now. She couldn’t go back to the ship, not that she knew a thing about actually living on the street. “Glad you got away safe,” Nasrin said with a weak smile. She wiped her eyes, “Where’s your brother?”

“Safe,” it was the girl’s only comment on the matter. “Why’re you crying?” she asked sitting down next to Nasrin.

What was she supposed to say? Complain about running away from home to a girl without a home? That just seemed selfish and insensitive. “Long story,” Nasrin said. She tried to put on a confident face for the little urchin. “Hey, let's get some food,” she said, standing up with a renewed sense of purpose.

Nasrin bought them both curry and flatbread from a stall and they sat on a bench eating in silence. Where now? Nasrin only had a little bit of silver. It wouldn’t get her very far. She could always try to hire onto another ship. Not many captains would hire a teenaged girl, or a girl of any age. Maybe she could find Jaryd. The traveler had done what she’d always dreamed and stood up to her father. She had copied him and what did she have to show for it? He had said something strange to her before he’d left though. Something about free spirits enjoying silver trees. She doubted the girl would know what he’d meant but she could ask. Maybe they could brainstorm up some idea. What else could she lose? “Ever heard of somebody enjoying silver trees?” She half expected silver trees to be some sort of smokeable herb, but that didn’t seem to fit.

The urchin girl, who’d introduced herself as Masie at some point gave her an astonished look. “What do you want with that place? It’s not exactly in the nicest part of town, miss.”

“It’s a place?”

“It’s an inn, and not a nice one. You seem tough, but they’ll eat you there. I stay away.”

“I think I need to go there.”

“Light no,” Masie said adamantly.

“What if there’s another meal waiting for you on the other side?”
“I wouldn’t even eat there, and I eat out of trash heaps,” the girl said with a bitter laugh.

“Ok, I’ll get you something along the way. Something you’ll be able to take back to your baby bro. Deal?” Nasrin extended her hand.

“Deal,” Masie said shaking.


A persistent rain began to fall as they made their way deeper into the whitewashed city. The brightly dressed citizens sought shelter indoors and those who had to travel made their way with heads bowed. Nasrin realized her companion, who wore a ragged linen dress with rough woollen trousers underneath was quickly becoming soaked. She unbuttoned her coat and passed it to the young girl. “Keep it,” she said, when Masie tried to turn it down.

By the time they finally arrived at the inn their clothes were soaked through. As they made their way to the bar, Nasrin was all too aware of the way her sleeveless undershirt clung as several of the patrons turned to leer at her. Maybe she should have kept her coat. She wouldn’t have felt right about letting Masie walk around in the rain with her ratty clothes. These squid kissers would have probably leered at the little urchin as well. She took Masie’s hand and gave the patrons her best attempt at a keep back glare.

When she asked the innkeeper about a man matching Jaryd’s description, he pointed her up stairs with a knowing grin. She blushed, grabbing Masie’s hand and rushing up the stairs. She paused in the hall, suddenly unsure of herself. Fishing around in her pocket she came out with a simple pipe and a pouch of tabac. Thankfully her leaf wasn’t wet. It was a cheap leaf she’d picked up in Tear but it was better than nothing. Realizing she had no way to light the pipe, she stubbornly held it in her teeth as she knocked at the door the innkeeper had pointed her towards. At least she wouldn’t look like a little kid with the thing in her mouth.

[Sunny]

Jaryd

The Silver Tree suited Jaryd just fine. Within its grimy walls his tattered clothing and scars went unremarked, though Watari’s presence at his hip caused a small bubble to form around him. Ebou Dari were known for their short tempers and strong pride, after all. He ate his meal in silence, washed it down with watered-down sour wine (sour or not, it seemed safer than the water), then went to the chamber he had taken for the week.

The room itself was as unassuming as the rest of the tavern, though to the discerning eye it was much cleaner, without a trace of insects or vermin. Thank the One Power for that, the Red thought acidically. He made a small fire in the dilapidated heart, then settled in the simple wooden chair across from it. Soon enough he had tipped back so his back rested against the wall, lost in thought.

Did he truly have no choice but to bargain with the Atha’an Miere for passage? He liked Taesh well enough, but would ship-dwelling Sea Folk so much as give him the time of day? They were not exactly known for being accommodating of channelers. What would he do once he got to Seanchan?

After the events of the day his quest seemed distant, indistinct. His thoughts kept drifting back to Spitfire and his mad dash across the roofs of a strange city. The rush of glee still tingled within him, a reminder of a time and a lifestyle he thought he had left behind forever. The fear that usually crushed him hadn’t even crossed his mind. When facing the girl’s father, he had simply been himself, and it had felt good.

A thump of knuckles on wood startled him out of his reverie, but he didn’t mind. He dropped his chair back to four legs and strode across the room, pulling the door open to peer out. A moment later his lips spread into a broad smile and he stepped back. “Good to see you,” he told Nasrin, dark eyes flickering between the pipe in her teeth -incongruous with the rest of her slight form- the small girl who clung to her hand, and their dripping wet clothing.

The girl did not want to enter, hanging back with a stubborn look on her face. Jaryd crouched to be face-level and spread his hands, showing her empty palms. “I’m glad you’re safe, little one,” he said in a gentle voice. “My name is Jaryd. Where is your brother?”

“Safe,” the girl blurted out after a long pause. “You can’t have him. I won’t let you!”

“Masie, he isn’t going to hurt us,” Nasrin said, with the utter certainty of someone trying to convince herself of the same. The Asha’man hid a smile as he pushed himself to his feet.

“Come in,” he said calmly. “Sit by the fire and I’ll get you some towels to dry off with. Nasrin- does your father know you’re here?”

[Locke]

Nasrin

Stiffening her back and biting down on the stem of her pipe, Nasrin stalked into the room. She still held onto Masie’s hand as Jaryd pushed chairs next to the fire and brought towers. Nasrin sat, and set about ferreting out something to light her pipe with.

Nasrin sat in front of the fire, angrily puffing away at her pipe. “Stanos’ do be no father,” Nasrin growled, glaring into the crackling flames. The blessed warmth from the fire soaked into her extremities. “He do no trust me, he do no even like me.”

Nas glanced over at her new friend. Masie sat with her knees tucked against her chest, but her eyes darted about the room. “He do no even want me. He has his own children,” Nasrin said, taking a long drag from her pipe. Blowing a smokering, she tried to relax, “I would have been better off on the street.” She couldn’t fully relax. The heat from the fire was causing her to sweat.

“Don’t be an idiot, Nasrin,” it was Masie, her nerves had vanished and she stood with tiny fists balled. She glared at Nasrin, eyes blazing. “Both of my parents died of fever when Tegan was just starting to walk. I’ve looked after him since.

Nasrin, shifted under the younger girl’s gaze. “I’m sorry,” Nasrin said, wiping sweat off her brow. “Hey, Jaryd, hon, can you bring me a blanket?” she said through chattering teeth. Well that’s what she thought she’d said. His confused look said otherwise. Frustrated, she stood, the fire was too hot. Her clothes were still too wet. Teeth chattering, she tried pulling off her wet clothes. Her cheeks couldn’t grow any hotter, but they tried when she caught Jaryd’s concerned, brown eyes on her. Trying, to cover herself, she tried to snatch the threadbare blanket off of the bed. She staggered and then she was falling.

[Sunny]

Jaryd

Jaryd listened to Nasrin’s muttering with half an ear. Her words seemed typical youthful aggravation with a too-stern parent, he thought, bemused. Perhaps a little angrier than some he had met. Masie’s interjection brought a ghost of a smile to his lips. His parents had done their best to keep him fed, but living in the Rahad was as bad as living in a gutter anywhere else in the world. He knew that life all too well, and abruptly he realized that unless they adamantly refused, he would be bringing the two children to the Mar’a’Mael when he left Tanchico.

The young woman’s words gradually became more disjointed, color burning high in her cheeks as she wiped at her face. Jaryd watched with concern, saidin resting in his hands. She had seemed in the prime of health earlier that day, not ill enough to warrant a fever. Masie gave him an alarmed look, and he put a long finger to his lips. “She is not feeling well,” he said softly.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the child snapped scornfully. “What are you going to do about it?”

That was a very good question.

Disregarding all rules of propriety, Jaryd took three steps to Nasrin’s side and caught her as she fell, his arms wrapping firmly around her waist to hold her upright. Shivers wracked her slender frame, yet he could feel heat pounding against him even through his vest. Light! The Altaran adjusted his grip, shifting enough to swing the girl onto his bed. She lay still where he put her, her hands on either side of her head and her face turned at an awkward angle away from him. Brown eyes stared blankly into space, and those shattering trembles coursed through her without end.

“Masie,” Jaryd said without looking. The little girl appeared next to him immediately, looking anxiously at Nasrin. “There is food in the wardrobe- bread, meat, fruit. Take what you like, and eat. You will need your strength.”

While the child was busy, Jaryd wove spider-thin flows of Water, spreading out over his new charge’s body and syphoning the wet from her clothing. When he was done, a pool of water had formed on the cracked floorboards, but her dress was dry. Then he put his hand palm-down on Nasrin’s forehead. “I apologize for not asking first,” he whispered before he channeled once more. He was not possessed of great Talent, but the weave was strong enough to eradicate any normal illness. The freckled woman’s back arched up and her eyes flew open...but when he Delved her a moment later, the fever still raged.

“Blood and ashes,” he muttered, pulling away to give Nasrin a more intent look. “What are the chances?”

Masie had returned bearing a loaf of bread. “Are you some kind of Lord?” she asked. “You’ve got some fancy clothes in there for a vagabond.”

“Not quite a Lord, no,” he said, his hands gentle as he adjusted Nasrin on the bed, tugging the blanket from beneath her, then pulling it up to her chin.

“Why you hiding in this rat hole then?” The child took a matter of fact bite of bread. “Why ain't you dead yet?”

Jaryd turned his head to give Masie a very direct look. “I have my reasons,” the Asha’man said in a flat tone. “Is there a- a wisewoman, or a healer, somewhere in this city? Someone I could rely on not to give Nasrin grass trimmings in lieu of proper herbs?”

“Yes, Mistress Lewelin can help you….but I ain’t going outside alone,” Masie said defiantly.

A few minutes later Jaryd had paid one man two gold coins to fetch the wise woman, and another five more to take Masie to fetch her brother. Then he settled in a chair next to his sick guest. “You will be well soon enough,” he told Nasrin softly, “and then you and I are going to go visit a place called Hama Valon.” Slender fingers smoothed the girl's hair away from her face and blotted sweat from freckled cheeks with a soft cloth from his bag. “You’ll like it there. I promise.”

[Locke]

Nasrin

Nasrin sat alone in her tiny sailboat. She didn’t know where the winds blew her, but it was ok. She was young and she had the world at her fingertips. She reached down into the water and trailed her fingers through it. Fine threads of silk harvested far across the Aiel Waste parted around her finger tips. The silk reknit itself into rippling blue waves, soft and luxurious. Colorful fish shimmered oddly below the surface.

On a whim, she stuck her face into the water. She was falling through colorful silks and linens. Until suddenly she tumbled through a display at some sort of shop. Her mouth felt parched and dry as she tried to speak.

“Where am I?” she managed to gasp out. Staggering to her feet, she began hunting for an exit. She only found more and more mirrors and racks of clothes. She ran by the mirrors without paying much attention. She could see them distorting her reflection but never stopped to examine them. After whipping around a final corner, she skidded to a stop in front of a massive mirror. For the first time, Nasrin was able to get a good look at what she wore. The broad brimmed hat with it’s white plume and long, red coat with elaborate gold ornamentation dwarfed her. In fact, the Nasrin that stared back at her was a freckle faced little girl wearing clothes that were much too big for her.

Nasrin recoiled, hands going to her face. She ran her hands down the length of her body in disbelief. She wasn’t a little girl was she? She backed away from the mirror until she hit something. Starting, she spun to see a dress on a frame. For a second time, she recoiled. It moved. It was a beautiful dress, but the patterns, they were moving. Gemstones glittered across the inky black bodice like stars. The skirts though, they rippled like water and a little girl floated along in a lonely sailboat.



There was a wind coming from starboard and Nasrin angled her sails to catch it. She didn’t know where the wind would take her, but she needed a path. Her mouth was dry and there was only salt water for miles and miles. The stars above weren’t any help for navigation either. They didn’t look like any constellations she knew. If she kept sailing, she would find something. Some land. A little rock maybe. She began to cry at the enormity of the task before her. She was so far from home. Was there even a home for he to return to? She didn’t know. The only thing she could do was to keep catching breezes with her little sail completely oblivious to the concerned looks her new friends wore as they stood above her as she shivered under the ratty blanket.