Breakable, Unbreakable, Shakeable, Unshakeable

[Chris]

Maever Donovan Drunken mishaps in the Grey Tower! Unwanton destruction in Hama Valon! Murder and strife in the Mountains of Mist! Ohhh, it was not a good day at all, and Asha'man Maever Donovan, First Weaver of the Yellow Ajah, was not going to get much sleep that night. There were too many injured, so many reports to take in, and some of their incidents were quite... extreme.

Elia, for instance. She was under observation, but from what Maever had seen and heard, her arm did not look good at all. It made the Illianer cringe, his desire to help her was so acute, but there were many others who needed assistance as well, and Gareth had her to hand. He could only hope they could make her better, Elia had been nothing but lovely in Maever's experience. He would check on her later, just in case...

But there was another patient in need of care, a Dedicated Maever had not seen much of which meant he was either inept with Healing weaves, or he was too proud to be Healed for injuries caused in training. Gareth, his Warder-wife, and several others had come in with Elia and Nate to hand, and both were in their own rooms. Now, the Illianer wanted to see what he could do for the Dedicated, so he went to see what the situation was. Why was the door guarded by two Dedicated?

"Sir," the two men snapped to attention as Maever approached, both of a height with Maever but probably twice his width, "Dedicated Nathaniel is shielded and restrained."

"What?!" Maever all but yelped, not heard over the hustle and bustle of a busy Infirmary, "fortune prick me, what did happen?"

"Asha'man Gareth has the finer details Sir," said the other Dedicated, "we're under instructions to keep Dedicated Nathaniel restrained until he can be looked at. No exceptions."

"Well, I do be here now so I can look at him," Maever said stoutly, going to open the door. The two Dedicated followed him closely and Maever didn't turn them away - Gareth wouldn't have had them stand guard without reason, so he knew now was a time to be wary. But why were these precautions needed in the first place?

In the room, quiet and detached from the main Infirmary, Dedicated Nathaniel lay on the bed, restrained by his legs, across his waist, by his arms, and also around the neck. Maever gasped at the torn and bloody uniform, not to mention the blood over his hands, arms, face, chest, pretty much everywhere. Surely that wasn't all his? Maever advanced slowly, cautiously, seizing Saidin in order to perform the basic Delve. Whatever the problem was had to be serious, otherwise he would have been washed and taken care of better before being put in here, but on the other hand it couldn't be something too difficult so Maever ought to be fine...

Weaves of Spirit, Fire and Earth struggled to Delve the Dedicated, much to Maever's surprise, but he managed. Extensive cuts to his arms, bloodied fingers and torn off nails, but that was hardly the worst of it. His vital signs were all wrong. His body temperature, his heartbeat, his breathing, it was all off. And his mind... Maever carefully probed.

-

The people outside of the room were probably startled by the Yellow Asha'man bursting through with a look of panic on his face, mouth working in silent alarm as he sought out his fellow Healer. "Gareth! Oh Gareth, fortune prick me, where do you be? We do be needing to Heal Nathaniel right away, there do no be much time, and we do be needing to make a circle... oh dear... and maybe an angreal?... oh Gareth..." the Illianer wrung his hands as he went to his office where a small, personal angreal was kept. A simple wooden carving of a duck, it made Maever a strong channeller but nothing incredible compared to some of the others in the Grey Tower. "Please, someone fetch me Gareth," he implored the nearby trainees. "And.... four Aes Sedai. Tell them it do be red triage!"

Soon to be black if they didn't act quickly. Hopefully Gareth would be up to the task of leading the circle, but if not then Maever would.

[Bella]

With a heavy sigh, Gareth shut the door to Elia's private room. That meeting had certainly turned out to be a bit more than he'd bargained for, and that was saying something. However, he had barely had enough time to hear the lock click shut before he heard a very panicked First Weaver rushing to his office and crying out Gareth's name.

Before the big Yellow could find out what happened, a healer-in-training rushed up. "He went to check on the Dedicated, sir," the young woman said with a gasp. "He wants you right away."

Gareth sighed inwardly. I wished he'd waited and talked to me first, he thought but did not say. He nodded at the young woman, who then went on, "He's summoned for Aes Sedai and says we need a circle. He's calling it red triage." Having said her part, she began to turn away, remembered her rank, turned back to curtsy, and then ran off.

It was apparently even worse than he thought.

With a speed that his size suggested wasn't possible, grace included, Gareth hurried across the small stretch of space from where he'd been to where he needed to be. "Asha'man," he rumbled, loudly enough to be heard over Maever's fluster. "Aes Sedai are being collected. Please tell me what you saw."

[Chris]

More Maever Maever saw Gareth approaching like a beacon of light in a dark room, people parting to make way for him. The Illianer felt his heart skip and his worry lessen just a little, smiling up at the man as he came close. It was his reaction whenever the man was near, he couldn't help it. So composed and regal and calm! Maever wished he was as collected as the big Yellow.

"Oh Gareth, thank the Light you do be here," he said. Where Gareth's voice was a rumble, Maever's Illianer accent was relatively high, and would have lent itself to most excellent singing were he brave enough to sing in front of an audience. "I did Delve our Dedicated and it do no be any good at all. The man's motor functions, his memory, his speech, all those parts of the brain do be in trouble. Whatever did happen, it did seep into the brain itself, and it do be spreading. We can no waste any time, but we do also be needing to be careful." One wrong move and the Dedicated would never recover, if he even survived. "We will be in a circle of six, if you would be so kind to lead?"

Four Aes Sedai appeared in a timely manner, only the tallest anywhere near Maever's height. The man was proud to say he knew all of the Yellows from their efforts in the Infirmary, and he was fond of all of them. "Thank you so much for being here," he said as if they didn't normally work in the Infirmary. "Dedicated Nathaniel do be physically injured but it do be his mind we do need to save. Gareth will lead the circle, and we will monitor his behaviour afterwards. Let us go in."

Six stools were set around the Dedicated's bed, as provided by the two men guarding his room. The one closest to the bed was reserved for Gareth, and Maever seated himself next to him, slim leg crossing atop the other. Lacey, a portly but well meaning Taraboner, was next. She was followed by Larissa, a tallish woman with hair as curly as Asha'man Jaryd's. Then it was Candice, with her short hair and permanent smile. Finally, the beautiful, glossy haired Saldaean Panaera sat, her dress much more opulent than the other women's. She was beautiful and she knew it. She gave Maever an indulgent smile in spite of the circumstances and his heart skipped a beat. So lovely!

"Please, Panaera, if you could form the circle and then give Gareth control?" The Illianer gave the group a reassuring smile, and then he held himself on the brink of seizing Saidin through his duck angreal. One by onw Panaera drew the group into a circle, Maever feeling their concerns and their worries as well as their collective desire to see that the Dedicated was Healed. One of the women kept giving a somewhat warmer vibe that Maever stoutly ignored. Outside he had been in more of a fluttery state but when they were channelling, when they were Healing, the Illianer was in his element and he was (almost) all business. He was certainly confident in what he was doing and he trusted any one of the Yellows in the room to lead the circle as well.

Control was passed over to Gareth and Maever leaned in with interest, eager to see the weaves used to Heal the Dedicated. The two Dedicated by the door were also looking on with interest and, naturally, the Aes Sedai did enjoy seeing a master Healer at work. Everyone in the room was going to learn something today and with fortune on their side Nathaniel would be Healed afterwards.

[Bella]

It wasn't often that a Healing needed so much effort a circle was called for, but neither was it the first time in his decades as a Yellow that he had done so. As with everything, he kept a calm head and approached it methodically. The six came together and he took control as it was passed to them, and then did his own Delving of the patient.

Of course, he trusted his Yellow Brother implicitly, but he had to see for himself what needed Healing. In the process, he saw exactly what had sent the...slightly more delicate Asha'man into such a kerfluffle.

If Gareth had thought it bad when he first saw him in that cavern beneath Vaidulo, he still had had no clue how bad it really was. There did not seem to be a single system in the boy's body that hadn't been hijacked by this combination of poisons and infection, and it had moved fast. And yes, the worst was in the brain.

For a moment, he doubted that even he would be able to handle this...but he pushed that away.

He had known almost from the moment he joined the Tower and signed the Soldiers book what he'd wanted to do. He had felt the call to the Yellow as strongly as any, and knew that his one inborn gift in this life was to Heal. He would not fail. With that in mind, he released the Delving weave and set himself to the task.

Knowing that nothing else in the body would matter if he didn't get the brain fixed, that was where he started. Drawing on the power of his fellows, he pulled together all five elements into the complex, advanced Healing weave. He focused his efforts in the delicate brain tissue, cleansing and healing what had been done.

Faint drops of sweat formed on the back of his neck from the concentration, but he didn't blink as he worked the intricate details of the task.

Moment by moment, the improvements took hold. However, he knew that it was also a race against time. He had to work carefully and not cause any new damage, but if he didn't work fast, the poison might re-take areas where the battle had been won. He knew he had to fix as he cleansed, rather than take the time to cleanse entirely, or the damage might remain too long and be irreversible.

However, he soon knew that he was ahead of the game. More of the brain was healed than not, and he pressed his advantage onward until the illness was cleared from the mind and the damage done reversed.

Fatigue began to set in, but whether from the powerful channeling or his own concentration, he didn't know. The hard part was finished was what he did know, and healing the rest of the body seemed downright easy by comparison and before long, the Dedicated was once again hale and whole--but for what his consciousness would be dealing with--and Gareth sat back.

The large man blew out a heavy breath and weaved once more to Delve and be sure. "It is done," he declared, feeling the link slip away when it was no longer needed.

[Chris]

Le Maever Watching Gareth Heal was like poetry in motion. Oh, Maever had sat for hours waiting for the sun to set over the Aryth Ocean and he'd had a small tear up at how lovely it was, but it was nothing compared to seeing a man Healing, especially in a circle. Maever lent all his strength through his angreal, and he willed Gareth to Heal Dedicated Nathaniel. He could do it, Maever knew it, but still he hoped. He always did, because without Hope the Dark One had definitely won.

The weaves were beautiful to behold and Maever watched the battle with quiet interest, as did the other Aes Sedai in the room. It was a slow process for Healing, taking a half hour before Gareth sat back and declared it was done. The Illianer gave a delighted squeal and clapped his hands, "oh Gareth, that do be amazing! Fortune prick me, pardon my tongue, but that was... that was wonderful to see, I do be proud to be a part of the Healing process." The circle was dropped and the Aes Sedai offered similar sentiments, though with less of Maever's unrestrained enthusiasm. He couldn't help it though, it was such delightful Healing to see! Maever turned to look at the Dedicated, "please someone get Asha'man Gareth some water and a bite to eat, he did just work very hard." One of the men nodded with a salute and departed.

"Well done dear," Candice said, a gentle pat on Gareth's arm, before they retreated. There were many others to attend to and now they had fulfilled their role, it was back to it.

"Thank you for your help!" Maever chirped at the women as they departed, grateful. Now the Healing was done, it was time to... well... it was time for the things they could not perform with the Power. The Illianer gave Gareth a slightly uncertain look but he quickly put his Healer's hat back on, holding his duck angreal tightly in his hands as he stood and went to get a good look at their Dedicated.

The big man was sleeping lightly it would seem, a regular breathing pattern and nothing to be alarmed about. Why, they had even taken care of his cuts on his arms, leaving nothing but blood and remains. "Could you please get me a tub of water, a cloth and some of the dried elderberry sheets?" he asked the other Dedicated, who saluted and departed as well. When the man was safe to not be restrained, it would be easier to clean him up.

The two Dedicated returned, and stood back. One held the shield over Dedicated Nathaniel.

"Okay," Maever said to Gareth, "I do be thinking we will need to make a full diagnosis of his mental state. When he does wake up we will see if he do be responsive to his name, and-"

There was a snarl from their Dedicated. It was so sudden, Maever had no time to react at all as one thick arm tore from the restraints and grabbed at his duck angreal, smacking it sideways so it hit the nearby wall where it cracked clean in half.

"Jeffrey!" Maever cried, starting to move towards the broken angreal but realising he also had a big, angry Dedicated waking up. Waking up and not at all pleased. The Illianer seized Saidin and used Air to hold him down, looking on with startled eyes as Nathaniel snarled and fought against his restraints, glaring at him and Gareth, and making no real sounds. He was too angry and confused to really be Nathaniel, Maever realised. Otherwise he would have never knocked Jeffrey over.

"Sir, he is trying to break through my shield," the Dedicated spoke up.

[Bella]

Gareth let Maever handle the Air barricade against the wild Dedicated, since he was still fatigued from the demands of the intricate Healing. It was not much of a surprise that he woke like this, his mind struggling to catch up from what was Healed of the brain. They were two very different things, although interconnected.

The boy could not be Healed anymore, in that way, so what to do?

Getting to his feet, his exhaustion making him feel more lumbering than graceful--which it could not be forgotten that he'd gone through the trials of Vaidulo, traveled back and then spent all this time and energy on healing, so his fatigue was no surprise. But he had the utmost dedication to his craft and would at least see through this one before stopping to rest himself.

He did the first thing that came to mind. Although the Dedicated was large, Gareth was larger. And with the Air holding him, the Yellow managed to get his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "Nathaniel Carridus!" he shouted in his booming voice, looking straight into the wild, angry face of the Dedicated.

[Chris]

RIP Jeffrey May you be sheltered in the palm of the Creator's hand,
giver of bread and bringer of much wet weather. [/i]


The response from Gareth's behaviour was instantaneous and obvious. The man yelped and stared at the big Yellow, eyes wide as he remained motionless.

That was just Maever though.

The Dedicated looked up at the face looming over him, and his eyes were wide as well, but they weren't really seeing what was there. Or at least, they were looking but interpreting everything differently as Nate's mind struggled to catch up with the Healing. Physically, his mind was cured. Mentally would remain to be seen. He resisted his restraints and he growled low in his throat, but there wasn't any real reason for it, it was like a cat trying to leap out of a tub of water but being blocked by a wall of Air.

To the Dedicated there was only one thing he could do in the immediacy of that moment, and that was exactly what he did. "ASHA'MAN GARETH!" he responded, but there was a roughness to the tone, as if he had never spoken the common tongue before and had been sleeping in the Waste for ten years. His voice filled the room much like Gareth's had, eliciting another alarmed noise from Maever who had only just dared to retrieve the broken halves of Jeffrey from the floor.

"Lemme go!" he growled. "Flaming Darkfriends, gonna... gonna kill 'em dead. All of 'em!" But how was he supposed to do that when he was tied up and shielded? Bloody flaming everyone...!

"He's still fighting the shield," warned the Dedicated from the other side of the room.

Maever could see that the best course of action at this point was forkroot, but it was with a heavy heart that he got Gareth's attention and went to retrieve it from his medical bag nearby. The crushed up herbs were put in water - subtlety was not necessary here - in a little tin cup, and Maever simply reached over, held Nathaniel's nose, and tipped it in his mouth. Then he put his hand over it until the man swallowed, and then he was asleep once more.

"I do be thinking... we should let him sleep it off a little. Perhaps he will be calmer when he does wake." The Illianer gave Gareth an apologetic look, "thank you for your help. You do be looking tired, should you no be going to have some rest?" He might not take good care of himself but Maever did like to keep an eye on the other Yellows where he could and using a circle of six was no small feat.

[Bella]

Well, it had been worth a try.

Gareth sighed wearily as he stepped away from the now-sleeping Dedicated. He had hoped to somewhat shock the young man back into his regular state of mind, but it wasn't meant to be. There were elements still to him--such as the ability to recognize Gareth and frame words--but it was clear the rest of it was still elsewhere.

The boy's mind was still stuck in that village, and Gareth had no idea for how long that would be. He hoped, for Nate's sake, that it was not long.

The big Yellow looked at Maever and nodded, fatigue continuing to sink through him like it was reaching down into his bones. "Yes... Yes, I need to get some rest," he rumbled quietly. He needed his wife. He felt her like a singing ball of tension in his mind, and knew that they needed each other. "I will return after I have gained some."

He started to turn and then saw the broken angreal in Maever's hands. "I'm sorry about Jeffrey," he said sincerely, clapping Maever on the shoulder before trudging his way from the room.

[Chris]

Nate? It was a long, slow road to recovery for Nate. His body was physically in good shape. Very good in fact; an examination later on showed he was hale and hearty, as if there was never anything wrong.

His mind, on the other hand...

Things were much the same at first. The Dedicated would come round from his drugged state, become aware enough to start to snarl, and he would be given more Forkroot. Let the mind fix itself, think about what had taken place, and put itself to rights. This continued for a few days, until eventually they decided it might be better to simply let the anger ride its course when he next woke. So they cleared the room apart from the bed, locked the door, and let the unrestrained Nathaniel wake up. From the other side of the door, the Yellows could only hear roars, the bed being thrown onto its side, thumping footsteps, inarticulate snarls. But never did they interrupt.

Several hours later, the noise stopped, and there was weeping.

It was almost midnight when there was a noise from behind the door. "Uhhh... hello? Can anybody hear me? I'm kind of hungry..."

-

It would have been far too convenient for the man to forget what had happened, to say that it was a fuelled rage that blocked his mind completely until he woke in the Infirmary. But no. He was aware of everything the entire time - it was still him in there, somewhere - and upon waking, it was hard to detach from that creature.

Asha'man Gareth was the main point of contact for a while, and he spent a good many hours with Nate over the next couple of weeks. Afforded a room all of his own, Nate was not to be trusted in company at first, but he was given a few luxuries to keep him from breaking another bed. Some books from his room, some casual clothes to wear, and presents people had left for him that people can mention in their follow up posts. Gareth was a patient man and together they made good progress, before the big Yellow determined that the Dedicated would recover better if he had some company. So the room was repurposed to allow for visitors - a small table for presents, some chairs for comfort, and even a plant in the corner. Nate was pretty sure he could be trusted with a plant of all things, it wasn't as if he was much good at eating vegetables even before what happened...

Maever was most nervous when he read the reports. "Ohh, I do be hoping he does no get mad!" he said, looking up from his papers to Gareth. "I do just be thinking - well - if he do no be the same, will he still be liking his friends?"

"All will be well Maever," Gareth assured him in that steady rumbly voice of his. "We will have an Asha'man in the room at the time, just to be on the safe side."

And so, almost 6 weeks after Nate was hauled into the Infirmary, his hair shaggy and his beard growing in, he was allowed to see people who were not Gareth.

[Andy]

Alrim had heard so many things over the last few weeks or so, he had not believed the majority of them but he had gleaned enough from direct sources to know that Brawn was in a bad way. Details of what had happened the night of the Ball were so shrouded in mystery as to be impenetrable, he had the feeling that they were kept that way for a reason. Not for Drin like him to know, perhaps. Made sense, he was hardly best suited to lead any sort of counterstroke. Or even to know what to do about the smallest of things. He had contented himself with putting the younger of his own rank at ease - by pretending, mostly. Can’t hide from those as know me but leastways if they see me not worried they seem more at ease. But that Ball...it was a colossal Pattern rutting...doesn’t make sense h thought to himself as he made his was towards the infirmary. Bribery and favours earned with Find the Lady had warned him of the opening of those doors. It was strange, he barely knew the man by other’s standards, yet he felt that he should make his own thoughts known. In a small way at least. He had garnered no less than three pies of his favourite, according to the stall vendor he had tracked down. It was such a small offering but it was all he had to offer at all. Maybe in time he could scrounge up some other things but he was poor as dirt aside from favours and they were reserved for others. “Careful,” he was warned by the Asha’man standing watch, making him nervous, “we hope but...” were the words, trailing off and making Alrim think he should have left this to those of more experience as he approached and left the offering of food upon the table he was gestured towards. He sat upon the only chair then, able to see Nate’s face but finding it unreadable. That was change enough, by now he should have been booming about how he was so grand as to beat the best swordsman around and drink more than everyone else present and still be willing to dance with some lass or other. The silence was...intimidating. It crawled over his skin like so many ants that he had to break it. “Sounds like you managed to get into a scrap without me Brawn,” he started tentatively, “don’t you remember the last time? Can’t turn around with me to help you out mate” he went for a smile. “You know, they tell you how to fight down there, fight and die for people like you,” he rambled, “and I don’t mind so much. Bells ain’t that important you know. Not really. Don’t tell you how to not be able to help your friends. Buggers” He shook his head at his stupidity, he probably was the least of Nate’s worries to be fair and he had many friends who had known him far longer than Alrim had. He was talking like it was such a big event when it was like as not a minor one - all things considered. He stood up and rested his hand upon the giant’s forearm gently, squeezed it gently. “I brought you pies, you’re favourite apparently. Next time let me know what you’re bloody well up to or I’ll ask Affie to pull your ears off. Silly Brawn,” he chuckled slightly then, “you alright? I’d say you were late for our last night out but allowances can be made. Some of the lasses are quite teared up about it though, always were more loved by the women folk. Damned Maynener’s with their lack of shirt, eh?” “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, or what went on. Just a Drin, me. But you better get up and be fine or I’ll be dragging you up, hear me Brawn? You gots hair long enough for Bells and I’m not losing one of my only friends soon as found ’em. Better me more Arafellin then Mayener. Soft sack of flour...lot of you...” he blinked, he hadn’t realised he had gone on as long as he had done so. He sat back down, wondering when it was he had become so invested in this damned Grey Tower stuff. It seemed more a curse than blessing right then. He was clearly upset but tried to hide it.