Sleepless [attn: Cat]

[Elan]

Jaren Marle

Perhaps the most difficult thing to get used to, about life in the Grey Tower, was that there was a curfew. An actual curfew, actually enforced, for grown-up men and women. Even after months, Jaren still felt vaguely resentful every time he had to hurry to his room at the end of the day or face the risk of punishment if he was caught out and about.

All the same, he had chosen to come here. He’d known his life would change, though maybe not to what extent. And it would all be worth it if he emerged from the trials — actual and petty — as an Asha’man. That in mind, he generally avoided breaking the rules in any major ways; anything that might delay getting raised couldn’t possibly be worth the trouble. Usually, at least.

Sometimes, the sound of his roommate’s soft snoring — or worse, incessant gossip-mongering if he was awake — just became too much and Jaren would rather take his chances with the authorities. Tonight was one of those nights; Marten had decided that teasing Jaren about his slow-progressing One Power lessons with Asha’man Jaryd was an excellent topic for a good laugh.

“Are you sure you’re not just dragging it out on purpose? He’s quite the pretty one, if you don’t mind the crazy,” Marten had said, laughing as though he'd come up with something hilariously witty. Jaren had not graced the joke with a response, just grabbed his coat and left.

Usually he’d head straight to the gardens on a night like this, but tonight he had to dodge a pair of giggling Accepted already on the way there and didn’t fancy running into anyone else if the place was crowded, and so he headed to the Warders’ training grounds instead. The night was still, with a clear sky and not much wind, and the silence was a welcome change.

Though as Jaren walked, skirting the training grounds, he realised that the night wasn’t as silent as he’d initially thought: he wasn’t alone in the grounds. Alarmed at the realisation, he looked around, trying to locate the source of the noise, fearing he’d caught a Gaidin training, or something worse. It would be just his bloody luck to happen upon, well, a different kind of physical exercise…

In the end, though, it turned out to be only a shirtless youth vigorously stabbing the air with a sword, as far as Jaren could tell. Jaren was about to back away and make a graceful exit the way he’d come, but then the shirtless man happened to look his way — and Jaren recognised him as the kid from the persuasion class, what was his name again. So, not a Gaidin, then, at least. The kid had worn a Ji’val uniform in the class so technically he outranked Jaren anyway, but perhaps he wouldn’t get him in trouble for being out at this hour as he was also out when he shouldn’t be.

Here’s hoping… Not wanting to go back to his room yet — Marten might be still awake — Jaren waved awkwardly at the kid and approached slowly. “Nice night for training, huh?”

[Cat]

Johan Albaer

It had been two months, but it didn’t feel that way. It all still felt far too fresh, like it had only happened yesterday. He couldn’t believe that it had been weeks since he had tumbled out of the arch one last time and been praised for his sacrifice. Sacrifice! More like abandonment. He’d left his brother and the rest of his family behind to die.

It was still hard to believe that none of it had been real. The memories certainly felt real enough; they kept him awake enough at night, and they pretty much haunted him during the day, too. He’d sworn that the Tower wouldn’t change him, but apparently it already had if he could go and do what he had done in the arch. He still felt ill and sickened by himself. He just had to see this through to the end, complete his training, and put everything behind him. Then, hopefully, the memories would fade.

He’d given up on trying to sleep. Oh, he didn’t have to deal with his roommate’s snores anymore, because the great thing about becoming Ji’val was that he now had a whole room to himself, but that was worse in its own way. He’d never been alone before. Before the Tower, he’d shared a room with his siblings, with the rest of his family. Being alone, therefore, felt unnatural, and being alone also meant that he was alone with his thoughts, with the nightmares the test had conjured, and it was too much.

That was why he’d snuck out as soon as he could. It had become something of a tradition for him since arriving at the Tower, these little moments of freedom and defiance, because he still couldn’t get his head around the routine, the structure, how everything about his life was now dictated by someone else. Now, more than ever, he needed the escape. Running through the sword drills helped to calm him and give him a chance to think, or, rather, not think. It was the only time his mind seemed to be completely clear and he could escape the pressures of the Tower.

Johan stood barefoot and bare-chested, having kicked off his shoes and thrown his shirt to one side. Sweat already coated his skin, giving it a slight sheen, and his breaths now came heavier, faster. He’d been here an hour already, working his way through the different drills and imagining himself cutting through his enemies. He ignored the fact that one of those he cut down was himself.

He cut and stabbed and thrust, attacking, blocking, feinting, ducking, diving, rolling, spinning, the sword a blur. He pushed himself faster, to the limits of his strength and abilities. Faster and faster and faster.

And suddenly he stopped, catching a sound, and spun in its direction, sword raised as if to defend himself. As if that would help. He’d only end up in more trouble for attempting to strike down an Aes Sedai, Asha’man, or Gaidin.

An excuse was already on the tip of his tongue until he saw who it was. Or, rather, who it wasn’t. He vaguely recognised them as a fellow student. A soldier, he thought. They were in the same Persuasion class. He was pretty sure the other had saved him from a tongue lashing from Taesh Asha’man.

Johan lowered his sword to his side and then tilted his head, his breaths still coming quick and fast, chest rising and falling heavily with each one. He laughed and then grinned, the threat having disappeared. He was, after all, the higher rank.

“Why?” he asked after a moment. “Care to join me? I don’t bite.”

[Elan]

Jaren

Jaren was caught off guard by the offer, even though it was probably not entirely serious; he’d thought the youth seemed surly and rather antisocial, based on his demeanour in the class. Now, however, he seemed friendly enough, almost playful. The remark about biting made Jaren chuckle, but he swallowed the crude response that was on the tip of his tongue. That might not be the best first — or second, or whatever — impression to give…

“Unless you want to waste time teaching me,” he said instead, shaking his head, “I’m not sure it would be worth the effort. For you, I mean. It’s been a while since I held a sword.” And his training had never gone past the very basics, anyway. His father had decreed that Jaren and his brother had to learn enough to not look outright foolish carrying a sword, but that spending more time on the sport would not be worth the time spent.

A sport, that’s what the old man had called it, never thinking that his sons might ever have to fight for their lives. Jaren idly hoped that it might prove true for Stevan at least; for himself, he did not imagine the life of an Asha’man would be peaceful, at least entirely, and he didn’t regret that.

Of course, Jaren hoped that he would be fighting his battles with the Power rather than a sword, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t learn the latter as well just in case. The Ji’val here probably didn’t want to spend his nights teaching him, though. “Do you come out here often?” he asked. “At night, I mean. Obviously. I doubt even the Gaidin set quite that strict a training schedule.” He flashed a slightly sheepish grin. “I’m Jaren. And I probably should have caught your name in the class but, alas…”

[Cat]

Johan

“I don’t think I’d be very good at teaching you,” Johan replied, moving as he did so to where his shirt and shoes were gathered in a small pile along with a bottle of water, which he grabbed. He undid the top and took a sip before looking back at the Soldier. Jaren, he reminded himself, storing the name away. “I end up flat on my back half the time.”

The offer hadn’t actually been to train, but more to see how the other reacted and what he did… which he now had the answer to. He was curious as to why the Soldier was out and about, or, more to the point, why he’d apparently decided to break curfew. Maybe he simply chafed at being told when to go to bed. He certainly looked older than most of the others Soldiers Johan had met, or, rather, encountered; Johan couldn’t actually say that he had spoken to any. Tonight was his first ever time for that.

He’d thought he’d be more nervous at coming face-to-face – alone – with a male channeler, but he didn’t feel worried or anxious. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline still surging through his body and giving him a false sense of bravado, or maybe it was simply the fact that he was away from his nightmares and nothing else mattered.

“And,” he continued, “to answer your questions: my name is Johan. Yes, I come here often, but that answer will change if you decide to tell on me, and, no, the Gaidin don’t set that strict a schedule.” He shrugged his shoulders as he exchanged the bottle for a towel to dry his damp skin. “I bet I’m out here for the same reason as you. Can’t sleep, won’t sleep, don’t want to sleep. Am I right?”

[Elan]

Jaren

To his surprise, Jaren noticed that the Ji’val — introducing himself as Johan — was not only shirtless but he wasn’t wearing any shoes either. He was fairly sure Gaidin generally did wear shoes. As Johan talked, Jaren began to shake his head and opened his mouth to assure the younger man that he wasn’t interested in getting anyone in trouble, but then Johan added the last bit. “Can’t sleep, won’t sleep, don’t want to sleep. Am I right?”

That was perhaps a little more direct than Jaren would have expected, and his first instinct was to deny it — he could have slept like a baby if not for his roommate being a jerk, probably — but he supposed that the end result was the same even if the cause was external. He shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “Something like that, yes,” he said. “A bad case of an annoying roommate. Won’t shut up about—” He cut off with an awkward little laugh. He might look like an idiot but his interpersonal drama was none of Johan’s problem. “Ah well. It’s not important. Kind of stupid, actually. He’s a jerk and I’m probably the stupid one.” He really was, for letting anything Marten said affect him. He was old enough that he should know better. “Anyway. Can’t wait to have a room of my own, but I suppose I’ll need to be a Dedicated for that.”

For a moment he considered asking what was keeping Johan up, but decided against it. The younger man was free to share if he wanted to, but prying would only make things awkward he it was something he didn’t want to talk about.

[Cat]

Johan

Johan was tempted to ask just what the annoying roommate wouldn’t shut up about, but it was clear - by the way the other man had cut himself off - that it wasn’t something Jaren wanted to talk about, and so Johan said nothing. It wasn’t any of his business, after all, and, even if it had been, he couldn’t exactly force Jaren to talk about something he clearly didn’t want to.

Instead, Johan sat down beside his things, stretching his legs out in front of him. Jaren could either sit beside him or continue to stand up; Johan didn’t really care. All he cared about was the fact that he was away from his nightmares, and away from memories of the arch. It was the only thing that mattered. He had died not once, but twice, and every time he closed his eyes he relived those scenes, saw his blood draining away, pouring through his fingers, felt the water rising up to meet and drown him. Half the time, he woke up gasping for breath, barely able to breathe.

He looked away, refusing to think about it.

“It is nice to have your own room, true,” he finally replied with a grin, probably having stayed silent for too long, and not quite willing to admit that he wasn’t so fond of being alone; that it was the first time he’d ever had a room to himself. “So. When do you think you’ll become a Dedicated? I’ll admit I don’t know how you go about getting ready for that. You’re the first I’ve ever spoken to. Soldier, I mean.”

[Elan]

Jaren

Jaren stared for a moment as Johan sat down on the ground; did nobody here use things like chairs or benches, things explicitly made for being sat on? There were benches at the edges of the training grounds, not even very far away — he supposed that the Aes Sedai who came to watch their Gaidin train didn’t want to sit on the ground — but Johan didn’t seem to care. Ah well, whatever, Jaren could adapt, in fact he’d already got quite used to sitting cross-legged on the classroom floor. He sat down as well.

He didn’t miss the slightly drawn-out silence, or the distant look in Johan’s eyes before he snapped back to the present, but before Jaren could figure out if it was something he’d said, Johan was talking again. Jaren gazed up to the sky as he considered the question. “You know, I wish I knew. My roommate’s been a Soldier for at least three years already and I don’t think he’s anywhere near getting raised, though if you asked him, I’m sure he’d say it’s but a matter of days now.” A wry smile twitched the corners of his mouth.

“I think they judge us individually, when we’re ready — whatever it is that we need to be ready for. There’s a test, but we’re not told exactly what it involves. Probably channelling.” That made sense, but considering the way the testing was talked about — or rather, not talked about — made him suspect there was more to it than a simple show of skills. But that was probably not something he should be discussing in depth with somebody who wasn't even a channeller, especially when all he had was speculation. He looked back at Johan with an easy grin. “They do like to maintain a veil of mystery, the channelling folk. Are the Gaidin the same?”

[Cat]

Johan

There was no grin in return. Instead, Johan froze, paling ever so slightly. He hadn’t thought, hadn’t stopped to consider that channelers would have their own test for rising through the rank, but the very mention of the ‘test’ had all the memories come race back, and he felt sick; looked like he was going to be sick. It was still impossible to believe that in one night he had died twice, abandoned his family, and sacrificed everything he cared for, and that that was something to be proud of. The guilt and shame made his stomach twist.

Maybe, though, the channelers had it easier if all they had to do was channel. Maybe they just had to blow up a few Trollocs, cast a few fancy weaves, and show that they weren’t going to get themselves killed. Or maybe, just maybe they had their own kind of arch where you had to give up everything to show how much you wanted to be an Aes Sedai or Asha’man. He’d didn’t know.

He drew his legs up to his chest, almost hugging them as he tried to calm his breathing. It had quickened ever slightly as he faced the very memories he’d been trying to escape.

“Maybe they don’t tell you what it is,” he said, a slight edge to his voice. It sounded like panic. “Because if you knew what you were facing, you’d run away. Wouldn’t have very many Aes Sedai or Asha’man, then. If I’d known…” He gave a quick, short laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you can’t exactly back out once you’ve started.”

[Elan]

Jaren

Jaren’s grin died quickly as he saw Johan’s reaction, amusement replaced with concern. What had he said wrong? Mystery, Gaidin… surely not channelling itself?? If he couldn’t handle the topic of channelling, Johan wouldn’t have lasted this long in the Grey Tower. Something was distressing him, though, and Jaren couldn’t figure out what it was or what he could do about it. The younger man’s haunted look made Jaren want to reach out and comfort him somehow, but he was wary of inadvertently doing anything that might have the opposite effect; even a friendly touch could be perceived as hostile when one was reliving traumatic events.

And then Johan started speaking again. “Maybe they don’t tell you what it is, because if you knew what you were facing, you’d run away.”

The words chilled Jaren to the core. Johan had to be talking from experience — that was the only reasonable explanation for his reaction — but Johan’s experience, whatever that was, was that of a Gaidin trainee, not Aes Sedai or Asha’man. Maybe it was simply something the would-be-Gaidin had to go through… But the line of thought didn’t feel convincing; why would the Gaidin have to pass such traumatic trials and not channellers? That made no sense. Which meant…

“Well, damn,” Jaren muttered. He leaned forward slightly, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Light, I’m sorry,” he said, a little helplessly. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” As for the matter of running away if he knew what he’d have to face? Right now, Jaren didn’t think anything could deter him from wanting to complete his training, but looking at Johan, the last thing he wanted was to argue the matter. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

[Cat]

Johan

Damn? Yes, he could agree with the damn, because he’d only gone and done the one thing he didn’t want to do, which was to draw attention to what had happened to him. He didn’t want - hadn’t meant - for anyone to know. It was none of their business. He could only imagine their reactions and their likely contempt. Who in their right mind would freak out over something that wasn’t real? Had never been real?

Johan flushed, his cheeks turning a bright red as he tried to think of a way to recover the whole situation. A Warder Student who’d apparently been scared off by a test? Perfect. Wasn’t he amazing? He couldn’t quite bring himself to look Jaren in the face, even as he tried not to think about what the other man was thinking. No doubt the Soldier was currently wishing that he’d taken a stroll somewhere else.

Taking a breath, Johan forced himself to appear calm. He gave a small, awkward smile, though he was still unable to look Jaren in the eyes. “Sorry. I’m just being an idiot. Ignore me.”

None of it – the test and what had happened within it – had really changed anything. He was still going to see this through, because he did care about his family, whatever the test had said, and he was doing this for them. He’d made the choices that he had in order to pass the test, that was all. Besides, channelers were just as human as he was, and no human would ever ask him to make that kind of choice.

…Would they?

“Do you intend to have a Warder? When you’re raised?” This time he did look at Jaren. “Not that I’m asking you to bond me, but… Do you?”