Old Friends [attn:Marla/Fiona]

[Jiggity]

Avram

Avram sat, floating in the Void, legs crossed. He had been awake for a couple of days at this point, and had vaguely been caught up with what was going on, but it was slipping in and out for him. One moment he was listening to someone talk about how the Tower had been redesigned and the next there was a Trolloc about to gut him, or a Fade staring at him with its terrible, eyeless face. Breathe in the room, breathe out the fear. He was one with the bed linens that scratched at his legs, one with the insects buzzing just outside of the warded window.

The buzz grew louder. The smell of charred flesh. No flesh lasted long enough to rot with the cookpots this plentiful. No.

Breathe in the room. The healers kept the infirmary well stocked with flowers, filling the air with a pleasant scent. It was not the sickly sweet smell of the blight. He was in the Tower. He was safe.

In the void, the rage swirled around him. They did this to us. Breathe in.

They killed them. They made us this way. We shouldn't have to fear the night, to fear sleep. Breathe out. He pushed those thoughts out with a breath, long practice keeping theVoid solid around him.

The door creaked open and his eyes shot up, reflexively shooting out his wrist blades. That would probably not be stopping for a long time. He waited, breath coming more quickly, to see what was about to approach him.

[Sunny]

Fiona Sedai

Fiona’s life had changed considerably since attaining the shawl. No more chores, no more classes, no more forcing herself to converse with people she did not enjoy. She spent a great deal of time in the city and the surrounding villages, getting to know the people there the way she had those on the Trakand estate. She would never be their liegelady (at least she sincerely hoped not), but connecting with those upon whose labor her life depended could only be a good thing.

Her decision to continue to offer her Talent to the infirmary came from a different place. She had chosen the Battle Ajah, and her raising had shown her exactly how far that decision might carry her and how bloody the outcome might be. The least she could do to balance the eventual chaos of battle was to offer respite from pain at every opportunity. The Yellow Ajah didn’t care why she did her duty, however, only that she helped.

The new Aes Sedai brought armloads of flowers one day, and set about helping the Accepted and Dedicated on duty arrange them throughout the public ward. She had just settled a vase on a table when Velanya walked through, her face more animated than Fiona had ever seen it. She fought the urge to curtsy (years of habit took more than a few spoken words to break), and instead focused on what the Mistress of Novices was saying. Something about a man who had appeared out of nowhere and was causing trouble with abrupt shows of violence. A plain-faced Ji’val. Can’t separate him from his knives without knocking him out, and that would surely do more harm than good.

Utter certainty settled about the Green even as an odd tingle of apprehension flashed up her spine. The last time she had seen Avram he had been slipping away from her on a crowded Caemlyn street. Before that, it had been….years. Had she really still been Ji’val herself? It took only a brief perusal of the infirmary records to find which room the man was staying in, and she wasted no time going there.

One of her assistants had already put flowers in his room, she saw, but that was secondary to the sight of the man who faced her, his hands held up in a way she knew meant trouble. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said calmly, holding her hands out so he could see her palms. “It’s been a while, but...it’s good to see you, Avram. Where have you been?”

[Jiggity]

Avram

It took him a minute to place her, and that only because his mind was in overdrive. "Fiona?" He said slowly, not lowering his hands. "But.... dress. There were rumors before I left that you were channeling. Changed placement. Wasn't sure I believed it. Distracted. You wouldn't be wearing it casually otherwise. Channeling then." His eyes moved rapidly, taking more in. "Shawl. I've been gone long enough according to Ravak Gaidin, but you would have had to be quick." He half smiled. "That fits. Aes Sedai then. Green though? In the infirmary? Could be trick. No, too suspicious. Would have been dressed as Gaidin or Ji'val if I was to be decieved." His thoughts spilled out of his lips like a waterfall, too fast to give her a chance to interject. He slowly put his hands down, letting the blades retract as he let himself process her question.

"It is... good to see you as well. A lot has happened while I was gone. I've been... in the Blight. And maybe somewhere else." That suspicion had been growing on him. Something about his memories seemed off. That many trollocs and shadowsworn that close to the Blightborder? With no one knowing? It was... unlikely. Very unlikely. He would need a bit more information before he went any farther than that, but if he couldn't trust the people here with information, who could he?

Shadowsworn walk these halls. Even with that, it didn't really seem possible that Fiona would be one of them. Fiona Sedai he corrected himself. It would take some getting used to, her channeling and being higher ranked than him in that as well. He was used to her being murder with her bow

Georg had been the best archer Avram had seen outside of the Tower, and would have been one of the top handful there as well. His eyes stared sightlessly at the sky, a massive cut almost seperating his legs from his body. Avram slowly closed his own eyes and covered his comrade with his bloodied cloak. "May you shelter in the palm of the Creator's hand, and may the last embrace of the mother welcome you home."

Avram snapped back. "Did you say something? I missed it if you did, Fiona Sedai."

[Sunny]

Fiona

The new Aes Sedai listened to Avram’s disjointed recitation with a face she held carefully expressionless. If not for the confusion and fear in his eyes and her own knowledge of his personality, she might have dubbed him a madman. Something happened to you, she thought, even as the words “I’ve been in the Blight,” spilled from his lips.

All this time? Surprise held her still until the Ji’val fell quiet.

“I have been there,” she said simply. She would have continued, but his face went blank. She had seen that look as well. There was no following wherever her friend had journeyed inside his mind and it would not help to try. The seconds slipped past. One breath. Two. Five. Ten.

Suddenly he was back, or at least more aware, eyes wide and troubled as he spoke.

“Nevermind that, and nevermind me,” Fiona said gently. “Look around you, Avram. Can you see the flowers on the table? Can you see me?” She waited for his nod, small though it was, before she continued. “This room is real. I am real. Take a breath, my friend. Yes...and another.” The words were simplistic, almost banal, yet real emotion drove them as well as real experience. That was how the Yellows had helped those traumatized by the explosion in the ouroboros and before that, the Seanchan invasion. It worked more often than it didn’t.

The Andoran went to a side table and poured a glass of water from the pitcher there, holding it out to Avram. Her hand was as steady as her voice. “I’m here, Avram, and I’m real. Would you like to get out of this room?”

[Jiggity]

Avram

Breathe. She said it differently, the other yellows said it differently, the Gaidin he had almost fallen into
at the Citadel had said it differently but it was always the same. Breathe. He felt the air coming in, held it in his lungs, and pushed it out. His breath tried to quicken but he forced it down, forced it to match Fiona's words. That he had practiced. He was sure he would get more. Breathe

In. Out.

Fiona. Flowers. Table, room ... his present widened again, the trollocs and horrors falling back. Not gone, but not present anymore. His eyes ran over them all anew, reminding himself. The Tower. Safety, or as close as he could get.

In. Out.

Fiona was here. His brain fell into associations, cataloguing again. Shawl, Aes Sedai, time passed, channeling, awakening, rumors that more than expected had slipped through. Mistress of Novices should have noticed. Look into that later. Older, but she would outlive him now. She rose quickly. Full rank now, eight years short, should have taken longer.

In. Out.

Would you like to get out of this room? The simple question broke the train of thought. Leave this room? He wasn't safe here, but it was small. Contained. No where for things to hide. Outside was dangerous, trollocs and warriors, the Blight- But it wasn't. He was in the tower. Aes Sedai. And he had his weapons. His hands flexed, feeling the wrist blades move slightly, feeling their weight.

In. Out.

"I would love to, Fiona Sedai."

[Sunny]

Fiona

Fiona measured her steps to remain in close proximity to her friend. As they passed into the main entry an Aes Sedai rose from her seat at the desk, objection brewing on her dark face. “You have no authority here, sister. I must insist-”

“This isn’t a matter of authority, it’s a matter of health. Avram needs to be somewhere familiar, with friendly faces, not pent up in what amounts to little more than a cell.” Fiona’s voice held an edge of annoyance that very few had ever heard, but a moment later it had modulated back to gentle warmth. “You know better than most the depth of my studies on this topic, Karina. I would not take him from your care without good reason.”

Karina tilted her head, ageless face thoughtful. Fiona’s claim was not untrue; the Seafolk woman had been of considerable assistance when the Green had studied mental sickness as an Accepted. Eventually she nodded and stepped aside. “I await your return.” And you had better have good news, her eyes added.

The Andoran dipped her head to the Yellow as they passed. Like it or not, the woman was easily twice Fiona’s strength and five times her age, and respect was required. Once they had rounded a corner in the corridor outside, however, she released a pent-up breath and laughed softly, turning to look at Avram. “Ditch the title,” she told him. “I am your friend.”

After a moment she added, “Let’s go to my quarters. They’re not familiar to you, but they’re more welcoming than where you were and closer than the Warder Hall. This way.” She indicated a direction, then fell in beside the Ji’val. Her gaze kept stealing over to study him, unable to hide her fascination.

He caught her looking soon enough. “I’m sorry,” she said. “The last time I saw-” she cut off. How to explain the Stair? It couldn’t be done. “I thought you were dead,” she said finally. That was true enough.

His earlier words came back to her and she frowned. “Why do you think I’m tricking you?” she asked.