Blossoming Morning Glories (Tag Azalaide)

[Bruce]

Herarn walked through the gardens enjoying the serenity that was here. Here was not a place of hustle and bustle. People who were in a hurry here were those who had lost track of time and were rushing to get back to their everyday lives in the Tower.

He stopped on occasion to enjoy the smells of a particular flower. Here was a place almost alien to him as the idea of swimming. But he had been to the Grove in the White Tower. This place paled in comparison to the Ogier tended Grove of the White Tower. It was still beautiful and serene if nothing else.

He found a large rock jutting out of the ground, one large enough for even him to sprawl out on. Taking off his coat, he laid it out on the rock and laid back enjoying the feel of the sun shining down on him. It wasn’t long before he heard the sounds of laughter coming to his ears on the wind.

He would have ignored it had it been a carefree and joyous laugh, but there was something dark about this laughter. Standing, he grabbed his coat by the collar and tossed it over a shoulder to follow the sounds of the laughter.

What he found was enough to strike the flames of anger. Three girls stood around another, this one thinner and slighter than the others. They were pushing her around. He was too far to hear what they were saying but it was obviously not pleasant. When they slapped the small stack of books out of her arms, he had had enough.

Stepping out of the shade of the trees, he said, “Leave off. Now.”

The ringleader turned to him and scoffed, “An Aiel savage. What are you going to do? Huh? Go run off to the Master of Soldiers? Who is he going to believe? You and her against the three of us? An Aiel savage and an Andoran weakling against a Tairen noblewoman and her noble peerage?”

“I could. That would be far too easy. I doubt that Master Arcuraim would waste his time on the lot of you. He’d hand you off to Mistress Malkom to punish. I hear that she administers a mean switching. But no. I’ll administer the punishment myself.” said Herarn quietly as he reached down and grabbed a long stemmed rose from a nearby rosebush.

“You wouldn’t dare!” snapped the Tairen novice.

“Girl, you haven’t got a clue as to what I’d do. Now… be a dear and pick up the books for your fellow Novice. Or I’ll put you over my knee and I’ll use the thorned stem of this rose across your pampered, arrogant backside.” Said Herarn as he plucked the leaves from the stem before carefully breaking off the rose blossom to leave about a foot and a half of thorned stem.

The leader motioned to one of her cronies who stepped forward.

“Not what I said, I said you not one of your hair brained cronies.” said Herarn as he placed the rose blossom in the collar of his coat.

Herarn felt the tingling on his arms indicating that a woman was about to channel. His reactions were well honed and he slapped the girl in the face. It wasn’t hard enough to bruise but hard enough to cause pain and it was enough to startle the girl breaking her connection with saidar. “Insolent pup, you pool me in with those other partially trained boys!”

Grabbing the girl by the back of the neck, he bent her over his knee and raising the stem up as if to bring it down, the girl screamed in anticipation of the stem coming down, instead he brought down his hand…. Hard. He brought it down several more times.

Rolling her off his knee, he said, “If you or any of your cronies, bother this girl again by action or inaction, I will ensure that you’re punished in ways only the darkest corners of your worst nightmares could even imagine. Any word of this to anyone from any of you, and I’ll ensure that you’ll not be able to sit for a week without the care of a Healer. Am I understood?”

Sniffling she nodded before scurrying off. He didn’t believe her. Eventually her pride and arrogance would get the better of her common sense and she’d go tell someone in authority about what happened, he would be punished, and he would have to follow through with his threat.

Bending down, he picked up her books and set them on the ground next to her, “Are you alright?”

[Bridget]

In Azalaide’s opinion, Yendra and her cronies had been novices for too long. They were all nobles, of varying pedigrees, and she had honestly expected better of them.

What’s the matter, Azalaide? Too many books for you to lift?
Did you see her yesterday, Yendra? She was trying to learn to use a dagger, and after only a few minutes she fainted! It was pathetic.

She sat up slowly, one hand settling protectively over her stack of books. Yendra had spent time at the Tairen court, but she had lost all of her subtlety after only a few years in the novice white. Azalaide didn’t quite know how to respond. If it had been a proper insult, a veiled and cruel dig, she would have had the words to dance circles about it. But this insult was so plain that there was no polite reply. It seemed like it much for Yendra to be bossed about by so many Aes Sedai and Asha’man; she must have been a high ranking noble before being shipped off to the Grey Tower. The other day, Azalaide had witnessed her refuse to curtsey to an Accepted! Yendra had been sent off to scrub pots for the rest of the afternoon. The way she had marched off the kitchens, her back straight with pride, had made the Accepted scowl and Azalaide laugh.

She stood, picking her books up as a physical reply. “Good afternoon, Yendra.” She greeted, her eyes downcast to give off an image of subservience. “Are you lost? I can show you the way to the kitchens, if you like.” The other novice’s face reddened, and Azalaide responded with a polite smile. “Are you alright, Yendra? I think you might be getting a little too much sun.”

She opened her mouth to speak again, and suddenly her books were flying. Azalaide stared in disbelief as Yendra smirked and the other two novices laughed. Light, had they lost their minds? She would give anything to be an Accepted. She would give anything to be back at home, with her son.

Azalaide gaped when the Aiel soldier stepped out from the trees. Her afternoon was becoming more and more surreal. She could only watch, becoming more and more dumbfounded as the verbal altercation unfolded before her. An Androan weakling? The dreadful girl seemed to forget that Azalaide was as much a noble as she was. Perhaps it would have been simpler if she was a commoner who had never stepped food in the Cairhien court.

With a sinking heart, Azalaide watched as the soldier slapped Yendra across the face. Oh, light. She feared stepping foot in the novice’s quarters anytime soon. Azalaide could not even imagine what punishment Yendra would concoct to pay her back for this.

And then he spanked her. One Yendra’s friends giggled nervously, and Azalaide wordlessly pressed a hand to her forehead. She wished she had never even seen this soldier. He deserved a smack upside the head for this one. She was going to find horse manure in her bed. All of her clothes were going to be covered in itching powder. Her notebooks were going to be doused in water. Her underwear would be stolen. She sat down, hard, and glared down at her hands. The light save her from men like this!

“Am I alright?” She stared up at her erstwhile rescuer, her eyes wide, and could not help the laugh that bubbled up. Perhaps he had been dropped on the head as a child. “Thank you, but no, I am not.” She accepted her books from him, and surprised herself by looking him straight in the eye. For all that he was a wool-brained fool, he was pretty. Honestly, did he think Yendra would leave it at that?

The scene had simply been too much, and Azalaide’s pretty façade snapped. “You are a fool.” She slapped a hand over her mouth as soon as she said it, mortified. Light, had she been a novice for so long that she had forgotten her manners as well? Her cheeks bright red, Azalaide stared down at her lap and twisted her hands nervously. Was the man going to try and spank her now, too? She could not halt the smile spreading across her face. Azalaide had not thought a more ridiculous in her life.

“Oh, do sit down, my dear, gallant rescuer.” She told him, her voice humorous. “I might as well enjoy the sun with some company before I go back to find my room ransacked. And you might as well enjoy a peaceful few hours before the Master of Soldiers comes looking for you.” Azalaide could not help but laugh again. “But thank you. That was the funniest thing I have seen in a long time.” She turned to look at him, the ridiculousness of the past few minutes giving her the boldness to meet his gaze. Her first assessment had been right. He was pretty. Azalaide found herself staring; at the blue of his eyes and the rakish scars on his jaw. Her face turned red as she looked, and after a moment she turned away, her hair falling over her shoulder to hide her face. “My name is Azalaide.” She offered, embarrassed by her own actions.

[Bruce]

“I see you Azalaide, I am Herarn. A pleasure to meet you. As for me being a fool, I’ve been known to have my moments. But as for those three, they’ll leave you alone for a few days at least. That one’s backside is still too warm for her to easily ignore my threat. If and when they give you any trouble, let me know and I promise they won’t bother you again.” Said Herarn as he picked up his coat and sat in the sunny circle of grass next to her.

Picking the rose blossom from his coat collar, he used it to hook her hair and pull it away from her face. Tucking the stem of the rose behind her ear, the flower held back her hair. “Tsk, tsk… such a lovely face should not be lowered to the ground for the ants and worms of the field. It should be raised to the sky to let the Creator know what fine work he did when he molded you in the womb.”

He sat back and looked at her, she was a fragile thing but there was a depth of internal strength that could not be denied when you looked her in the eyes. Picking up one of the books, he read the cover, “History of the Ah-el Peoples. Huh? Who are the Ah-el people?”

The way he read the title indicated that while he could read, it was most definitely not one of his strong points. He stumbled over the word history and he totally mispronounced the name of his own people. He cracked the cover and looked inside and snapped it shut. He had an extensive vocabulary but book learning hadn’t been a necessity of joining a Warrior Society and he had gotten by in the Black Tower because almost none of the lessons had been in the classroom.

Coughing uncomfortably, he placed the book ontop of the others and tried to think of something to say. Azalaide did not strike him as a woman who would be impressed with stories of his battles with the forces of the Dark One or the Seanchan and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he found himself tongue tied.

[Bridget]

She said nothing at Herarn’s promise to simply take care of her troubles with Yendra and her lot. The soldier did not understand. To have another fight her battles was to be weak, and while Azalaide put on a good show of fragility and obeisance, she would never stoop to such a thing. She had enough skills at her disposal to deal with Yendra on her own terms and her own time. But it was sweet of Herarn to offer; Azalaide could not help but wonder if it was a cultural difference. But Aiel women seemed so strong!

And then Herarn’s compliment swept all sense from her head. She reached up to touch the flower behind her ear, just to make sure that it was really there. No man had ever said such things to her genuinely; men at court in Cairhein had given her lavish compliments, but they had all been barbed. For all that Herarn’s words were perhaps excessively flowery, Azalaide could not help but feel flattered. His words did not help with her blush- it felt as if her cheeks were on fire.

She watched him investigate her books with glazed eyes for a moment. He was so much taller than her, and the way his hair fell into his eyes as he puzzled over her book was charming. It took her a moment to recognize his discomfort, as he stumbled over the title of one of the books. Azalaide was usually perceptive. She could not help but flush again- it was his fault for being distracting!

At loss with what to do, she fell back on her impeccable manners. Azalaide smiled at him, glancing up through her eyelashes as disarmingly as she could manage. “How did you come to the Grey Tower, Herarn?” She asked, straightening the pile of books just to give her hands something to do. The Grey Tower was so far from the Aiel Waste, and she could not help the curiosity. “Do you enjoy your studies here?” She asked the next question so that she might give him another topic to discuss if he was not comfortable speaking of the past. Herarn seemed almost hunched with discomfort; he seemed like the type that needed help in conversation.

[Bruce]

“I was transferred from the Black Tower.” said Herarn simply, “It was to be some kind of motion towards peaceful co-existance or some such.”

“Before I came to the Wetlands…. Err… to the West, I was a member of the Duadhe Mahdi’in, it roughly translates to Water Seekers in the modern tongue. We had been on patrol to the north of the Sept, a region that borders the Blight. We encountered a Fist of Trollocs. Eh… that’s a hundred Trollocs commanded by a Fade. Needless to say a dozen Aiel warriors against a hundred Trollocs and a Fade would have been a difficult challenge. But the survivors would have had much ji for attacking not only the forces of Sightblinder but also for attacking a larger force.”

“We fought with all the strength and courage we are known for but the numbers proved to be too much and slowly we started to drop. I’d been stabbed through the side by a Trolloc and was trying to get my balance after killing it when something seemed to snap inside me. Everything became so crystal clear. The Trollocs seemed to move as if they were playing with children instead of trying to kill Aiel warriors. Three Trollocs charged me and I didn’t even get to move, they just burst apart into bloody chunks of flesh. I went to where the fighting was the thickest and the Trollocs fell away until it was just me and my Brothers of the Society. There were only about four of us left. I collapsed and don’t remember much of anything until after I awoke sweating profusely on a stretcher crafted and carried by my Brothers.” said Herarn quietly remembering the incident.

The truth of the matter had been far more visceral than that. It had been three hundred trollocs and three Halfmen. But even a freshly appointed spear was the equal of a dozen Trollocs if he was worthy of his new position. He’d also taken more than a single injury from a Trolloc before he’d started to channel saidin for the first time.

“When we returned to the Sept, the Wise Ones knew what had happened. I had collapsed from channeling to the point of exhaustion but the fever had been Channeling Sickness. When someone touches the One Power unguided. At this revelation, I prepared myself to go and Hunt Sightblinder as all my ancestors who could channel had done since the Breaking. As I readied a pack of supplies and prepared myself to say goodbye to friends and family, the Wise Ones pulled me into a chamber of the Sept and told me that I would not be Hunting Sightblinder.”

Herarn smiled and looked skyward at this. “The Car’a’carn in his wisdom had found a way to cleanse saidin and it was no longer necessary for Aiel Warriors who could channel to go and Hunt Sightblinder. Being a bit of a rebellious youth, I started to say that I would go anyhow but they forced me to give a Water Oath that I would come to the Wetlands and become Asha’man or Aes Sedai. I learned as I traveled into the Borderlands, that the White Tower was still strictly for women.”

“I met an Asha’man who had been in the Borderlands recruiting when a Trolloc force attacked the town we were in. Together with the Borderguard, we repelled the Trolloc forces killing those we could and maiming the ones we couldn’t, knowing that their inflicted weakness would cause the other Trollocs to turn on them.”

“From there, I travelled over land to the Black Tower where I was enrolled as a Soldier of the Black Tower to become an Asha’man of the Car’a’carn. During my time with the Black Tower we fought the Shaido, the Seanchan, and the forces of the Dark One. I thought myself one of the best Soldiers of the Black Tower. I was obedient, observant, well-disciplined, and intelligent. I never questioned orders unless they were obviously counterproductive and we weren’t being given enough information.”

“Then one day I was summoned to the M’Hael’s office, where I was informed that I would lead a dozen other men to the Grey Tower for an official transfer. Since I’ve been here, I’ve earn a dozen punishments for channeling unsupervised, three for fighting, and one for telling an Aes Sedai that I was already busy with instructions from another Aes Sedai. Actually I wound up getting two punishments out of that. One from her, and one from the Aes Sedai whose instructions wound up not being completed.”

“As for enjoying my studies here? Sometimes I do. Other times I want to just scream in impotent rage. Can you believe I got forced to take Introduction to Channeling? I had to go through the whole process of ‘learning’ how to seize saidin? I mean I’ve been able to grab hold of Saidin every time without losing it for nearly two years before I came to the Black Tower. All because an Aes Sedai thought that since I was new to the Tower I needed to take the class. Needless to say, I skipped any follow up classes by going to the Master of Soldiers who conceded my point and wrote a note excusing me from the class, stating that credit for that class had already transferred from the Black Tower. And the Battleweaves Class here… I just won’t get started.”

“So what about you?”