Hope is a Cactus, not a Cushion (for Elan)

[Chris]

Le Maever The Healing itself took less time than it would have were someone else leading the circle. Maever, when given the lead by the Aes Sedai, happily channelled intricate flows of all five powers into Nathaniel’s mind, one hand resting on his head, head bent over in concentration. He was quietly determined and utterly confident in the link created, a sensation at odds with his usual attitude, but when Healing he was in his element and performed at his best.

It wasn’t a Healing without some hiccups, but Maever knew he had done the best job he possibly could all things considered. When the Healing was complete he released everyone from the circle, and the Aes Sedai and Asha’man who had come to assist went back on their merry way, the more dramatic Yellow asserting just how lovely Maever was and wasn’t it a shame about that poor Blue’s head?

Maever remained seated on the stool, momentarily a little weary. “Oh, hmmm.” He gave Mael a considering look; he wasn’t a Healer, he wouldn’t have spotted what Maever was doing like his Yellows should have. “I do be thinking I did remove the Compulsion, but some of it do be so deeply ingrained, I do suspect that there be parts that can no ever go away. I do no be knowing what the Compulsion do be, but it do be something Nate should be aware of. He might have a bit of short term memory loss for a few days but that will right itself, and I will keep a close eye on him. Overall he do be ok, but I should send a message to the Blue Ajah to let them know…”

Gretel the Accepted was on hand to send a message, so Maever arranged that and off she went. The Illianer, pleased, hopped back to his feet and went to the group of men (and token lady) in the room. “Mael, thank you for bringing Nate back,” he said warmly. “And to our guests,” he looked to Brendon and Berlioz, “thank you for being here as well! Ah, this do be well timed,” he said as a few Novices tottered in with food for Nate, then on a separate tray a selection of foods for the rest of the room. “We do be needing some chairs as well please,” Maever implored, and the nearest Novice giggled a little before curtsying and going to get enough chairs for everyone. It was a bit of a squeeze in this room, but they would all fit just fine.

“Alright.” Maever seized Saidin long enough to shut the door and put a ward against eavesdropping, taking the stool near Nate’s bed again. He turned to face the little group. “First things first… Mael, do you be needing Healing?” He’d refused before from the Accepted, but Maever knew a man in need of Healing when he needed it. The Red consented, and so Maever sorted him out with the same level of skill and almost compacency that came from Healing so many people every day. “Now that do be sorted,” he said breezily, “we do be needing to decide what to do about this situation. It does pose a very real risk of the two Towers butting heads and I would like to avoid that where possible.”

“We will deal with Carridus- er, the Reuben one- at the Black Tower.” Berlioz spoke between mouthfuls, the man could eat like a pig at the best of times. “We brought your man back, and we aren’t going to cause any more trouble. Why not leave it there?”

“The White Tower did take a Yellow,” Maever pointed out, “against his will. Then some more folk did go after him and then, well, you do be knowing what did happen there.” The Illianer made a face, politicking really wasn’t his strong point. But injustice with the Power? That was Mael’s thing, being a Red and all wasn’t it? Maever just did the Healing. “Mael, you did see the Black Tower party and you do be a Red,” he paused to level a bemused look at Berlioz’ smirk, then continued, “what do you be thinking about the abuse of the Power? Do the Grey Tower be needing to respond or, ummm, do we be happy to let this settle like this?”

A grunt from the bed, and Nate had opened one of his eyes. He blinked a few times, slowly, and turned his head to get a look at everyone in the room with a slightly unfocused gaze. His other eye opened a little later and he gave a small grin. “Who got the sandwiches?” he asked, pulling the tray closer to his bed. “These are for me, right? Oh, this ain’t the Black Tower…” not particularly troubled by this, Nate began to eat, listening to his stomach rather than any other bad vibes his head might be giving him. They could be dealt with when he wasn’t starving.

[Elan]

Grumpy Red

Mael followed the proceedings in silence, because if he wasn’t speaking, he couldn’t say anything he might regret. He nodded curtly when Maever approached him about Healing — you didn’t argue with Healers in these matters; it just wasn’t done — and gave the Yellow a slightly strained smile in thanks afterwards, but other than that he kept to himself, ignoring the food that was brought in as well as the chairs. It was perhaps unfortunate that this scene was playing out in the Infirmary, Mael had never wanted Maever to get caught up in the Black Tower drama, but on the other hand Maever had the patience and presence of mind to approach the topic in a more level-headed manner than Mael might have himself. Whatever Jasmina Sedai thought, he didn’t actually want to trigger an open war between the Towers, but.

He wished Jaryd were there. He wished — irrationally — that Jasmina Sedai hadn’t caught Reuben Carridus when she did so that he’d have had an excuse to blast him to the next Age. He wished Berlioz would choke on the sandwich he was stuffing his face with, if only to make him stop talking when he clearly had no intention of saying anything useful or truthful.

When Maever addressed him, the Yellow’s entirely reasonable question was so at odds with the decidedly unreasonable tone of his inner monologue that it took him a second to figure out how to answer. “‘Happy’ is not a word I’d use,” he said flatly, crossing his arms across his chest. “You say you brought Nathaniel back,” he went on, addressing Berlioz. “My memory of the events differs slightly. I seem to recall that I had to find Nathaniel in the flaming Blight to bring him back while you — the entire Black Tower — were perfectly happy to look the other way all this time while Reuben Carridus was keeping him under Compulsion. For months. Enough Compulsion that Maever says there may well be permanent damage to his mind. Why not leave it there, indeed?”

It was then that Nate decided to show signs of life, and Mael glanced over at the Blue to see if he wished to contribute to the conversation, but at this point he seemed more interested in the food placed before him. Perhaps that was for the best. “It seems clear to me,” Mael went on, “that the Black Tower cannot be trusted to deal with this. After all,” and he flashed a feral smile, “they haven’t dealt with it. And Reuben Carridus’ crimes—” at least the most recent ones “—were committed against a member of the Grey Tower. Handing him over to face the Grey Tower’s judgement might help convince us that the Black Tower does not in fact condone what was done to Nathaniel.”

Might. There was no way Mael was going to believe the Black Tower authorities had been unaware of the Carridus situation, and there was no way the Red Ajah wasn’t going to do something, but there was no need to give Feroce Liendin another war. Marching into the Black Tower with trumpets sounding and polished armour heroically reflecting sunlight might look good for a moment but it was unlikely to end well.

[Chris]

Le Maever For a second it looked like Berlioz and Mael were going to start having somewhat stronger words, and were they outside or pretty much anywhere else in the world Maever would have let them. But before Berlioz could offer what promised to be a sound retort, Maever spoke up, soft but firm. "If there do be a conflict of stories then there should be a trial hosted by an independent party, and people should give testimonies."

That made Berlioz pause, but he had no real alternative to offer.

The Yellow continued, "that does seem to be the fairest thing for everyone. Nate do be able to give his story, Reuben can share his, and you can offer your accounts as well. A third party passing judgement does remove the bias of either Tower and do be the fairest thing for everyone involved. If we do start to make demands of the Black Tower, especially with what do be happening with the White Tower, it could give the wrong impression..."

That was a simple solution, Maever thought, and he smiled a little at it. Politicking wasn't his strong suit but he knew fairness when it needed to be displayed. Berlioz still didn't look pleased, but he gave a brief nod of his head. A grunt from Nate caught everyone's attention and the Yellow went to inspect him, putting a hand to his forehead as he ate. There didn't seem to be anything amiss with him physically, apart from that he was hungry.

"Your suggestion seems reasonable," Berlioz said eventually, after giving a shrug, "but there's nothing to say that we return to the Black Tower and you never hear from us again. As a show of good faith, I would leave a Black Tower representative here to pass on messages and be a bridge between the Towers." He clasped his fellow Black Tower Asha'man on the back. Brendon could do it, and he could head back to the Black Tower and try to smooth his over as much as possible with the M'Hael. As long as the Grey Tower didn't get too involved they ought to be alright, and it wasn't as if he was the one doing the Compulsing so... what did it really matter?

[Elan]

Mael

Mael didn’t know where Maever thought he was going to find a third party willing and able to pass judgement on Asha’man, especially of the Black Tower, but at this point it didn’t truly matter. There was no need to shoot Maever’s suggestion down, so he just made all the right noncommittal noises that people generally take for acquiescence and waited for the negotiation to run its course. He didn’t quite roll his eyes when Berlioz generously offered Brendon to remain; clearly the man’s good faith didn’t run deep enough to volunteer to stay himself.

He met Brendon’s eyes across the room, and the Cairhienin looked like his thoughts ran along the same tracks. However, Mael had only a very general idea of what had been going on in the Black Tower in his absence — other than indiscriminate use of Compulsion — but he couldn’t imagine that things had got better since Alastair’s death, and sending Brendon back there had never been his plan anyway.

As people turned to look at him, he realised he was probably meant to voice his approval of the plan. “Very well,” he said; may as well go through with the theater. “If that’s acceptable to Brendon, I’ve no complaints.” That came out smoothly enough that nobody in the room — except perhaps Brendon — should have cause to doubt his sincerity. Brendon nodded his agreement, and Mael continued, “That’s settled, then. Now, if there was nothing else, I have a report to make.”