The Rose in the Stone Tower [Attn: Bella/Nykkolaia Sedai]

[Sean]

Valadin Manelle

The steaming aroma of mutton drifted into Val’s face as he navigated through the Blue Ajah headquarters. Unlike the other Ajah halls he’d visited, the Blue Ajah held the most mystery as the sanctity of private conversation were valued beyond coin and the words that went unheard by passerby had a conspirator’s ring to them. For Valadin such a place was uncomfortable, but he managed his way even though a few Sisters stopped him and inquired the reason for his incursion into their territory. Mostly he was left alone and he noticed that only small groups gathered in the spacious hallways, most choosing either to convene in secret rooms or were removed from the Tower altogether, the intrigues of foreign courts and nations calling them away from home. It all seemed so lonely to Val as he continued on before reaching the personal quarters of the Aes Sedai he’d been ordered to attend for the evening.

His eyes quickly took on a hard edge. Thus far he’d dealt with his superiors whether Asha’man or Aes Sedai in much the same fashion. Often there was little need to be secretive for he hadn’t allied himself with any factions and as he was only a Soldier his position garnered him little attention for those that wished to entertain the political diversions of Tower life. In certain situations he had found himself capable of minor deception—whatever else the Creator had made them, male and female channelers were still human; a fact that he still struggled to believe.

Carefully balancing the silver-plated platter of grilled pond trout, cabbage rolls stuffed with flakey white ewe’s milk cheese, and warm bread complete with thimbles of both honey and butter, Val rapped upon the door of Sister Nykkolaia Zeran. The pitcher of sweetberry tea looked as enticing as it had when the head chef had given him both the meal and drink for delivery. Only the warning that accompanied his load made him pause in his consumption of the drink, however subtle he believed he could be. Rumors of Aes Sedai and Asha’man were inflated, but some tales held truth to them. If the stories about this Nykkolaia were true then Val was better suited sating his thirst on clear water from a fountain later on.

As he waited, he reflected on the sights he’d seen prior to his arrival. The journey through the other Ajah halls had been confusing as it were and there was still much of the Tower besides the Novices and Soldiers quarters that he had yet to see. Hundreds of liveried servants hustled from one Tower section to another and he imagined they all couldn’t have lived in Hamma Valon or simply traveled from neighboring villages each morning to perform their daily duties.

Having never visited a castle before, the Tower was easily the most impressive building that he’d witnessed and he hadn’t visited much more than the Warder Yards outside of his own quarter hall. A pair of Aes Sedai strutted by with cat-like suspicion in glances that took him in with one swoop before continuing on their way. Frowning as he considered the Sister’s retreating forms, Val decided that he didn’t much like the stiff comportment of most Aes Sedai. Not that he preferred the hostile honesty of Asha’man, but at least that was to be expected. Dealing with the male channelers of the Tower could be much akin to poking an angry bear; at least you got what you anticipated.

Namely the threat of death.

Sisters were a whole other matter…their machinations were fraught with so many twists and loops one couldn’t ever be certain that their very own breaths were a product of their choice rather than the plots of an Aes Sedai fox.

Turning back to stare at the closed entrance Val wondered what sort of woman this Sister would be. It was his first opportunity having to spend time alone with a Sister and while he had somewhat mastered the nerves from the night before, there was a sense of ill-foreboding that wouldn’t relent no matter how positive he tried to look on things. With a sigh he considered whether he’d receive punishment for knocking twice when the wooden door creaked open and candlelight poured out into the hallway…

Creator guide me… he prayed silently before moving to enter into the room.

[Bella]

Nykkolaia Zeran was not like most Aes Sedai.

She was not, in fact, like most other women. This was a fact of her life that she had long ago accepted. She knew long ago she would never be the same as she was, and she would never be like anyone else.

In her room, where she spent much of her time lately, she stood over the wash basin and rubbed at a spot of skin beside her thumb, where it connected to her hand. She washed something away that only she could see, what she saw blending in with the scale-like pink skin that covered this hand. Had she gotten it all? She couldn't tell anymore, and so she washed until the skin was nearly raw and blood was raised to the surface.

Fatigue wore down her bones as she finally forced herself away from the basin, the water that had once been warm now long gone cold during her efforts. The candlelight throughout the room guttered, keeping it dimmer than most probably chose to. She brushed errant strands of blonde hair back towards the braid.

There was a knock on her door, and her body jerked, startled. Her heart immediately raced alongside her mind, until she cursed herself inwardly to know that it was just her meal.

Don't be a fool, girl, she chided herself. You are back in the Tower. You are an Aes Sedai so stop being a ninny! This was her internal monologue actually being rather kind, compared to how it often was. There was someone at the door that had been dispatched from the kitchens. It was nothing to be startled about. Taking a breath, she smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her blue (of course) dress and steeled herself with a face of Aes Sedai serenity.

She opened the door to greet the Soldier on the other side. Instantly taking in the sight, she noted that he was more than a head taller than her and looked almost...farmboy in his build and size, she thought. Pale in skin though dark in coloring otherwise. He looked...young, was the other impression she gathered before stepping back to open the door enough to let him inside. She said nothing as she pointed to the small, nondescript table that inherited her sitting room where the food was to be placed.

[Sean]

Following the Sister’s gesturing towards a small table, Val entered the room. Many questions turned in his head as the supper platter and perspiring decanter of tea was placed upon their perch. Straightening to full height, the dimness of the candles and the way the shadows swayed whenever the remaining candles began puttering out became more noticeable.

The room itself wasn’t as grand as he had expected it to be. Turning slowly to take in the sight he saw a dreary place that was more of a refuge than a home made within the Tower. When finally faced with the Aes Sedai, Val’s stance became formal and respectful as was befitting her station, “Evening, Aes Sedai,” he greeted, his voice strong and purposeful.

Master Seth had told him that in places far from the Grey Tower—a place where men were the sole inhabitants of their domain—Sisters were not welcome and treated like lepers, but Val had never heard of such a place. The Four Kings had always been privy to tales of the White Tower and its magnificent alabaster halls teeming with women of great wisdom; and power. When Jandal had initially approached him, telling him of the curse he bore within, Val had believed that it was to the White Tower that he was being taken. And now I call the Grey Tower home…the Pattern is a funny thing, isn’t it? he laughed to himself.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes and he didn’t share the reason for it. Not that the woman seemed to care. She was small and didn’t carry herself with the same high-handedness of most of her Ajah Sisters. That placed her a little lower on the list of people he didn’t like. The Sister greeted him subtly though her manner suggested that it was a formality—less than that to her. It wasn’t condescension or malice that laced her response. More that her thoughts were occupied with things unseen…things that she would share with no one else. When she moved from the door it seemed as though she edged away from him; as if he carried a disease.

“Is…is there anything I can help you with, Sister? I’m new to the honor of attending to the needs of the Tower’s Sisters. Forgive me if I’ve missed something.” As the silence sampled his words, the residue sound sitting atop the awkward tension like cream on a biscuit, Valadin realized that in much the same way that her greeting had been a façade so was his concerns about the ‘honor’ he’d been given.

Resignedly he relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his hands coming unclasped from behind his back. “I’m sorry; I’m no good at this. If I’ve failed…well it’s because I’m not much for fancy evening dinners with pretty wo—I mean ladies,” he stammered.

A nearby candle hissed to life in the corner, its flare brightening the room for the twinkling of an eye before darkness dominated another section of the room. It was in that breath of time that Val caught a clear viewing of the smooth Aes Sedai face that was ruined on one side by a pattern of scars that disappeared beyond the neckline of the appealing, yet simple dress that fitted the Sister’s small frame. As the room mired in the darkness once more neither spoke though Val was certain she’d seen the shock in his face as he truly saw her for the first time. Aes Sedai were supposed to be creatures of perfection. Their looks, stature, and poise always matching the ideals that they held most important. Few people ever considered that what they represented to the world was not always the heart of the woman, but here Val stood before this imperfect creature and was curious about her past; something he’d not experienced since…well ever.

His life had brought him scars as well; scars that he hid with bravado and slabs of muscle honed over months of hard training with the living weapons that were Gaidin. So much he buried beneath a veneer of swagger…She doesn’t though. Her scars are in plain view for everyone to see…including herself. Is that why the lights are kept so low?

“Your meal, Sister.” His voice cut the gloom with sharp contrast though this time there was caution in his tone as opposed to the practiced decorum of a Soldier following orders, “It will grow cold if you don’t eat and I’m afraid I can’t leave until you’ve finished with the plates.”

[Bella]

It was actually something Nykk had gotten used to: people being awkward around her. From the age of fourteen, when she had been brought from that basement, she had been used to people with eyes that veered away like deer in the woods when the wolf is about. Even her own mother couldn't look at her and packed her off at the first opportunity. And then when she had become an Aes Sedai, it added to the innate discomfort of many people around her.

She was used to it. And yet this young man seemed awkward for other reasons. When he began to apologize for "failing," she herself was a little taken aback by the bluntness. And then when he stammered about "pretty ladies," she damn near fell out of her own skull. Not that it showed. She had long ago perfected the flat effect, but inwardly...

Did he just call me...

Then the candle light flickered, casting more light about them both, and she saw the shadow pass over his eyes. Ah, now, there it is. That moment when people saw her scarring for the first time. Most were able to keep most of their reaction to themselves, but she knew that first instant of recognition well. (There were those who gawked openly, even, but the Soldier was fortunately not one of those.) She was no beauty and never would be, so she noted that look but had stopped caring about it long ago.

Her meal, right. He was going to sit here and watch her? It had been a long time since she'd been home to the Tower indeed. She was going to have to start picking up her own meals again...

Swallowing a sigh, she glided to the seat at her small table. "You might as well sit, Soldier, if you wish," she said with a sort of...casualness to her voice, almost resignation, although it was faint behind her impassivity. "I am not the swiftest of consumers." Another token of her past.

[Sean]

“Of course, Sister,” Val responded smoothly.

A nearby stool served as a well enough seat though Val’s large size made him feel foolish as he struggled to gain a comfortable position. If the Sister noticed, she said nothing. The few moments where she seemed aware of his presence had passed as the slow ceremony of eating her supper consumed all attention. It was a dance that was familiar for a stable hand and a slave who had spent years perfecting the art of remaining unseen.

Being locked in a room with an Aes Sedai isn’t something I’ve got much practice with though…

The scent of the trout had weakened by now though with the enclosed quarters the scent was enough for Val to be quickly reminded of his skipping midday meal. The Sister sampled her meal slowly, examining each morsel with a scrutiny that was unnerving to watch though Val had long since decided that many things about the woman were strange. Her room lacked for much to being with—a detail that many Aes Sedai had little tolerance for from Val had seen.

Even Accepted and Dedicated hoarded what small trinkets they were allowed to receive, foretelling their passions for possessions that would substantiate some sense of fulfillment. Looking about him, Val found no inclinations in the entirely functional room. Instead the ambiance of a recluse and an introvert became evident to him in a way that felt unmistakably mundane. For a time the blanket of quiet was interrupted by the hissing of candles sputtering weakly before flaring back to life, each time tempting the room with fresh coats of shadow. Val itched to ignite those that had gone out if only to reduce some of the gloominess. Finally when the petite length of the room had been taken in many times over with furtive, sweeping glances Val’s attention settled on the Aes Sedai herself once more.

He’d dared not look at her directly after seeing her scars. Not out of fear—he understood better than most that life…could force itself upon you in unpleasant ways, often leaving marks that remained long after the pain had dulled. Rather it was because he knew this that he felt guilty for invading her privacy; perhaps a word to the chef or Master Seth would see that Sister Zeran was bothered no more by recruits seeking a place in the Tower.

“Sister…” he began in a voice that was part whisper and part…something else. “I was just wonderin’…well how it happened. The…” Words failed him as he gestured towards the left side of his face, roughly gesturing where the scars had been seen.

Shame and fear should have seen him fleeing from the room after such foolishness. A word from her and Val would be cleaning out horse excrement until he’d lived out his later years; not to mention the other punishments Master Seth would inflict upon him for pressing beyond his station. Usually this kept him in line. After all, he’d decided recently that the Creator had brought him to this juncture and it was his duty to see the matter through. To that end he would weather any penalty, suffer any discomfort, and follow any order if it meant performing his responsibilities.

Still, the hunger that touched his words as the question hung between them surprised him. Blinking in wonder he realized that he’d drawn closer to the table, fingers resting anticipatorily, breathed held in waiting for an answer. An apology should have immediately followed the inquiry, but the moment had long passed and now Val watched…consumed by the desire for the Aes Sedai’s answer.

OOC: Sent you a PM too.

[Bella]

As she ate, she wondered if he was impatient. She was an Aes Sedai and he a soldier, so it didn't matter, or it shouldn't...but she couldn't help but wonder. Nykk never had to work at being invisible, oddly, so in those moments when she was quite purposefully not invisible, she couldn't help but wonder after things. In truth, she seemed to have made it a habit to wonder after things.

She ate slow simply because things could hurt, at times. Physically. Dealing with the scarring around her mouth. The damage done to many parts of her body. The wounds had been too far gone by the time she was found for anything to be done about them, so she had adapted her life around them. And to such a point that she didn't even realize how much she did so now.

His question startled her. A bite of food hovered, for the span of a few heartbeats, between the plate and her mouth. She recollected herself quickly, however, and finished it. Chewing and swallowing carefully, then taking a drink, before allowing a softly surprised laugh. The sound was a little...coarse. As if it wasn't a sound she was used to making.

Her pale eyes, almost white at times in the dim candlelight, turned to him. "Not many people ask that question, Soldier," she said, although there was no trace of...anger in her voice, or even reprimand. Truth, there was that hint of surprise but not much else of anything. "They are too polite. Or afraid. They don't want to hear what would transpire to give me such."

At that point, it would probably be clear that she hadn't actually answered his question. Nothing in her suggested whether she would or not, but she was curious now about the man who'd asked what so few did. Even people who had met her more than once were hesitant to ask, but he had been here all of...less than a candlemark. And he'd asked. She was...intrigued.

[Sean]

“F-forgive me, Sister.”

The words fell unbidden from his tongue. A response drilled into him through the painstaking efforts of those that stood as his superiors. Rules needed to be imposed upon those that could channel if they were really going to be of service to the Light and Valadin was no stranger to adherence for the sake of survival; it was his nature.

And yet…

Studying the Aes Sedai with a serious expression, the emotionless reaction felt tainted; wrong. He shifted again on the blasted stool causing its roughly hewn legs to grate against the sturdy stone of the floor. The noise was guttural against the melody of quiet that hovered between the two. “Y’know…I’m not sorry. I’m just curious. Scars usually have a story behind them. Just figured all Aes Sedai were about schemes and control; never thought there’d be someone…like…me.”

The previous moment’s eagerness had faded. Memories of dark days haunted him in those waiting moments, but somehow the impassive Aes Sedai eyes studying him curiously urged him through the mire. Gradually the darkness faded and Val sighed softly, a dry smile pulling at the gaunt, hard flesh of his face.

“I was a slave before coming to the Tower. Wonderful start for a storied guardian of the Light, eh?” A soft chuckle followed, but it only barely filled the hollowness that lurked between the sentences. Certainly it was folly to become so familiar with Aes Sedai, but this one seemed different. The way she watched him. Gooseflesh raised on Val’s skin, but he relished the numbness. Perhaps not feeling anything would make the conversation easier. “I was the property of a Murandian slaver for much of my young adulthood. Many summers and winters spent serving the whims of whomever held rights to me for the evening.”

“T’was rather easy to be honest; being removed from having to make a decision can be a liberating experience.”

A gentle, imperceptible nod was the only acknowledgement he received for his revelation. From her—it was enough. Val wasn’t even certain if she’d nodded at his words or if a fantasy from another life had taken her, but all the same his resolve to see his desire to learn more sated. There was little that interested him in the Grey Tower, but it appeared he’d found a strange flower amidst the stone. He’d come across few plants in his time and usually they were nothing special, lacking in complexity or elegance. Admiring these for long periods of time was difficult, but the rare flowers, the ones that possessed an unearthly glow about them. He was always captivated by such specimens.

“So you see? I have no reason to fear asking because you and I…we’ve shared in some of the same lonely, dark pains. Perhaps our views on it aren’t the same, but any Aes Sedai that has the stones not to hide her hurts is worthy enough to do away with frilly, soft-hearted questions, right?”

[Bella]

Did someone actually just share something...with her?

The solid, seemingly impassive look that he interpreted as Aes Sedai serenity and steady attention was, about half the time, a feeling of being entirely (if inwardly) dumbfounded. No one...talked to her. No one...shared with her. With her, people conversed. Dealt with. They handled her out of necessity, and she returned the favor. She was no one's confidant, and no one was hers. She was a walled woman, a tower built within the Tower.

Who was this man?

She blinked once, twice. It took some effort to fully process what he had said, but she did. She was not, after all, slow-witted. (Some people had just thought she was, from time to time, and she rarely took the effort to disabuse them.) A slave. The words run with the clarity of a bell throughout her brain.

This man had once called someone Master. This man had once borne chains.

At least...

In the passing of those blinking eyes, her mind raced. Her scars were laid bare before the world, but he looked perfectly normal. Was he lying to her? Could she trust him that he wasn't? He was a Soldier, not yet ascended to the cord and thus bound by the Oaths. He could be trying to lure her out. Perhaps this was a prank by the learning ranks, because she knew that they did things like that. But would they be brave enough to cross her?

And yet if he was telling the truth, she found some...thread of conscience that kept her from wanting to be entirely sharp and cold. If she did see someone before her that was in earnest, that would know...

"I am the product of a man who didn't care what needed doing in his quest to know more about how much a person can take," she said, both straightforward and evasive. As all her thoughts had been racing through her head, her gaze upon him had never altered or wavered.

[Sean]

Val nodded comprehendingly.

In many ways the woman before him was Aes Sedai despite the similarities in their past. Weaving words was the same as breathing to female channelers—all women even—and it was just as well that he didn’t press any further. Leaning back with a groan, he worked the stiffness from his shoulders as the tension of the moment passed leaving the room glummer than it had been before. Her eyes followed him, unblinkingly, two undisturbed pools of clear lake water reflecting his image right back at him.

“So, this fella that hurt you so…he was your da?” Val asked. Again the pressure of consequence didn’t avail itself upon his senses. He’d grown…comfortable with this Nykkolaia Sedai.

Many things about her felt like home. She was distant the way most adults were in the Four Kings. Their concerns and their lives were simple, most just wanting to make a fair day’s coin before returning to their loved ones. Val remembered when he would watch old Saml and wonder whether the man had a wife or kin to keep him warm at night. Nights for orphans were cold, brutal, and lonely. Though many of the villagers tolerated urchins during the day, few had sympathy for the cutpurses or pickpockets they inevitably became later. A few times people he’d known well enough in the village took a stick when he asked for succor from the harsh Andoran winters. Forget those days. You’re here…in front of an Aes Sedai. Try to leave before she curses you with boils or the like.

The thought brought a smile to his face, a tight-lipped grimace that appeared as painful as it did cheerful. Rubbing the moisture from his palms onto pants Val glanced at the plate of food which remained half uneaten; it would do. If he’d tried to leave now the chef would know he’d done his duty and likely the Sister wanted him gone from her sight anyway. She’d done nothing, but watch him with that emotionless gaze that made gooseflesh raise on the back of his neck.

“I suppose if you don’t feel like talking, it’s no business of mine. Forgive me, Sister. As I said; I’m not much for good company.”

Again the conversation stalled. His last words weighed heavily on the stillness as the two remained speechless in the poorly lit room. It was too much; anything was better than resigning to this silent torture. Turning his face to hide his anger, he sought to master himself.

Many lessons on the Flame had seen Val through difficult encounters, bidding him to hold his tongue where he might’ve said something foolish and earned himself a fine whipping for his trouble. Here, his emotions refused to be burned away the Flame, spreading out like red venom through his blood until the edges of the room were rimmed in red. These bloody Aes Sedai think they’re all so blasted great! Every one of them turning their nose up at me. One day…one day I’ll see myself away from his Light-forsaken Tower. Then I’ll never have anyone turn their noses up at me again!

It was a child’s tantrum, but the thought proved a soothing balm to his irritation and the Flame seared the rest away. When next Valadin met Sister Zeran’s eyes, his face had softened though his eyes were unmistakably hard. He needn’t feel embarrassed or hurt by her silent rejection of him; his duty as a Soldier would see him through any trial.

If he failed, then he would die. Considering his solemn oath, sworn on the eve of Cyn’s death, the previous thoughts of escape tasted of betrayal to his friend’s memory. Pushing such things from his mind and nodding towards the platter of food, Val rose to his feet, arms folded behind his back as he towered over the tiny table.

“If you’ll have nothing else of me, Zeran Sedai I’ll see that the Cook receives the rest of your meal with any complaints you might have.”

[Bella]

What he took for a lack of desire to talk was more the time it took her to control herself.

The moment he had asked, like he had assumed that it was so, if the man who hurt her was in fact her father, it felt like all of the blood in her veins had run cold. Just at the idea that anyone would think that. Her hands tried to shake, but she wrestled them back together and she could do nothing but stare at him while she wrestled with herself.

He spoke of her lack of desire to converse... and of departing for the kitchens with her complaints, but she was not through with him.

Who was this man, and who did he think he was?

"The man who hurt me," she began, her voice low. The edges of her tone almost hissed, but was just barely on this side of emotionless. "The man who hurt me was most assuredly not my father. My father was..." Her voice hitched for a moment with emotion that she cursed herself for. "My father was a good man. This--" She touched her scarred cheek. "--was a stranger who took me from the street and held me captive, away from my family, for almost a year."

Realizing how much she had said, she swallowed hard and shut her mouth. Her face was still the impassive mask, but inside her heart was thundering against her ribs.