The Grey Tower

There was an empty space in the Warder Yards, a quiet corner that nobody ever seemed to use.

Mehrin went straight to it.

When he had been given access to the Yard, there had been conditions placed on him. He could only work his muscles, rebuild the endurance that had carried him through so many scrapes in the past. Actual sparring never occurred with anybody near his skill level. Instead, he could only spar against people far above his ability. A couple of spars had shown how he fought, and the broken bones that had resulted in his current restrictions.

But it was so much fun, though, wasn't it?

Mehrin paused halfway through his stretches. I'm still not speaking to you.

And what good will that do you?

You tore me apart, damn it! How am I supposed to react?

The Deathwatch chuckled as Mehrin resumed his stretches. Ever since the fiasco of the Blight, there had been rumors circulating about him. They were rare, and everybody laughed them off, but they were there: there was something wrong with the old man with the big sword. There was nothing for it, really. The rumors would have started sooner or later.

He had really hoped that it would be later.

With the first swing of the flamberge, Mehrin's focus shifted away from the world around him and into the dance. The dance. That's what the Aiel called it, and in these moments, Mehrin knew why they called it that. There was a certain grace in the motions, an elegance to the implied brutality. In his mind, the Deathwatch slipped into silence. Mehrin could feel its arms matching his, its body in tandem with his. It was in the same place as him. In that moment, the Deathwatch and Mehrin were in unison. Without any further thought, Mehrin threw himself even deeper into the motions. What did it matter that he could not properly spar? Why did he need anything more than this?

Grounding the point of his flamberge into the packed earth of the Warder Yard, Mehrin waved his opponent away. Even with his age, Mehrin was in superior condition to the much younger man; Allyn was breathing heavily, nearly gasping, while Mehrin was barely sweating. Endurance was not everything, however. Allyn was far superior to Mehrin's ability, and he would have taken the contest within the next two minutes. There was never a reason to fight to the bitter end in a sparring match when the outcome was obvious. He knew that many of those who sparred against him did not like his tendency to surrender; he did not care, either. Only a fool exhausted himself when it would serve no purpose. Allyn was one of the few in the Yard who understood Mehrin's opinion, and he was one of an even smaller group who agreed with him. Smiling, Mehrin offered the younger man a salute, which he returned before sheathing his cutlass and striding away from the Yard.

He was interrupted by an Aes Sedai.

Still leaning on his sword, Mehrin watched the brief exchange. He had seen the woman approach during the match, but she had not been worth noticing at the time. Now that he was not engaged, Mehrin examined the woman. She was dressed fashionably in red and white, the skirts divided for riding. It was obviously a look calculated for both elegance and practicality, though the belt seemed more ostentatious than functional. Just a little girl carrying around a sword. Sad, really.

Shut up.

You know that you were thinking the same thing.

Shut up.

Mehrin's attention shifted to the tall man that stood with her. Michael was known to him. They had never spoken or sparred, but Mehrin had seen him work in the Yard. The man knew what he was doing with the two swords strapped across his back. He was watching the exchange between his Aes Sedai and Allyn with all the jealousy that Mehrin had come to expect from a new Warder. Michael seemed like he was still new to the bond and the intimacy that it brought; his Aes Sedai's interaction with Allyn was obviously chafing against his new-found bond with her. Mehrin could not help but to chuckle. The Aes Sedai obviously knew nothing about Allyn. Allyn was courting one of the cooks in the kitchens, an arrangement which was obviously approved by the Blue Asha'man to whom he was promised. With a few courteous words and a bow, Allyn removed himself from the situation, leaving Mehrin alone with the two.

"You'll have to pardon Allyn, Aes Sedai," Mehrin said, lifting his sword to examine the blade. "He tends to work himself a bit too hard. Never seems to take a break between a spar and a class and chores." Satisfied with the condition of the flamberge, Mehrin settled it into its harness across his shoulders. "Bloody foolish, if you ask me. A lot of these younger trainees will destroy themselves to prove worthy of you Asha'man and Aes Sedai. A bit of patience wouldn't hurt any of them." Offering a smile, Mehrin inclined his head in a slight bow. "Pardon, Aes Sedai, I should probably introduce myself. Mehrin Mahrvon, probably the oldest man swinging a sword in this Yard."

Directness. Always so becoming in an Aes Sedai. Green, do you think?

Probably. And shut up.

A humorless smile touched Mehrin's lips for a moment at the boldness of Taylin Sedai's question. "Was snatched up, once upon a time," he replied. "Ancient history, to some." Go on, talk to her. What's the worst that could happen?

She could bond us. Remember what happened when Anara did that?

Hmmm, yes... The scream was delightful, and the way that she collapsed and hugged her legs and sobbed for the next five minutes? Even better. Could be fun to see that again.

No.

Disguising the conversation with action was simple enough. Mehrin cast his gaze around at the packed yard, acting like he was looking for any other discarded items, and pulled his training gloves- with padded knuckles, for safety's sake- from his hands. "Pardon again, Taylin Sedai," he said with just enough deference to keep out of trouble. "Back in the Age of Legends, when I was just a young man, I was bonded to a Yellow from the White Tower. It wasn't very exciting, to be truthful, but that was fine. I had had enough of exciting for a while." Mehrin sighed, then added, "And then came the Aiel War. When the dust settled, it was clear that we were both irreversibly changed by it, and it was too much. She released the bond, I adopted a daughter, and then we went our separate ways."

Holding up a hand, Mehrin added, "And before you ask, I have a question for both you and Michael. I want you to think about your bond, really consider it." Mehrin gave the two a moment, then continued. "You feel the closeness, the intimacy. You are each a part of the other, making one whole being. I had that. I lost that. I lost the deepest relationship that is possible for two people to share. I was literally torn apart.

"Why would I want that again?"