The Grey Tower

Since Betrys had gained the privilege of being able to go into Hama Valon she had only made a few brief trips, it wasn't in her nature to spend time shopping or in the midst of crowds. The city being far large a settlement than the village she'd grown up in, it made it rather challenging at times for her to be able to truly feel comfortable in the streets and passageways that made it up. Instead, Betrys preferred to stick to the limited selection of shops and stalls - which made this visit unusual.

It was after Dark Hour and most would have assumed that the rather polite and (generally) well-behaved Accepted would be in the Tower lost in a book, study or practising one of the Weaves she had begun to develop in relationship to the Earth flows that came so easily to her person. All of them were far more commonplace activities, not to mention being appropriate.

What probably wasn't, was this current occupation.

Betrys had always valued her own privacy and she fully respected it in others, that however, didn't apply to when she believed someone needed her help. Or help. She wasn't that vain to believe it was her presence or assistance that was actually needed but in this case she certainly hoped her support would begin to help out the person in need. It might have been easier to talk herself into all of this because of whom she was following but Betrys still comforted herself with the knowledge that she'd have done the same for Mirin. Although in that case she'd have been less conflicted, along with more direct in her efforts.

There also wouldn't be the need to stalk after Mirin in order to figure out a moment to challenge her or spend a fair amount of her time planning over and over what she wanted to say and do.

To say Betrys was conflicted when it came to Valadin though...that would be the understatement.

She wanted to view him as a friend. That was perfectly fine as far as the rules went but she couldn't ignore other sensations and emotions when he was around, not completely. Betrys didn however believe she was being very adept at not revealing them to him or indeed most other people (Mirin so didn't count in that case) and therefore, following him into Hama Valon was not going to be a problem.

Betrys wanted to help. If he was going to avoid her at the Tower that meant being creative, so it was really his fault that she was here now sticking to the corners and following after him, using a small amount of Air and Spirit to make sure that her presence shouldn't be immediately noticed, though how successful that was going to be was anyon's guess. It was like she'd done much of this sort of thing before now and Betrys wasn't sure how well she'd perform in the long run.

Now where was he going?

And why?

"More! Brin...bring me more!"

A young woman turned her head in the direction of the shout. She was a homely thing dressed in little more than rags that seemed at odds with the well groomed braid trailing down her back. To guess that she'd yet to see her thirteenth naming day probably wouldn't have been wrong. The innkeeper always kept a special eye on this one girl. The others were at home in the Band of Brothers inn, jesting and teasing mountain guardsmen and patrons alike. When things got rough most of the other girls fended for themselves or jumped to one another's aid; the innkeeper never missed a step. With this girl though the burly proprietor was protective.

Daughter then, Valadin decided as the serving girl came to his table. "Erm..."

"Anythin' with a kick will do."

"I..." It was the eyes. Like bright green gems housed below a shelf of russet colored hair. They were piercing without meaning to be. "Hold a moment milord," the girl said before hurrying to the bar's counter.

Valadin watched her walk away shamelessly, even lifted his empty mug when the innkeeper shot a warning glare in his direction. It didn't matter; none of it mattered. An attempt to rise tilted the world on one side making it seem a better idea to remain seated. One of the other serving girls squealed playfully as a thick set man pulled her in close by the waist. Pointless. All bloody pointless.

The girl was back, face red from exertion and breathing heavy from rushing to serve him. "Broke out the goods for ya, milord. "

"I'm no lord," Valadin slurred as he sat upright in his chair. Even in his seat they were nearly of the same height. "Yer age...what is it?"

Hesitation. Like Nykkolaia. Like Bee. Like Liri. All of them kept waiting for something or...someone. The thought of Nykk on the arm of princeling nearly made Valadin sick up on the spot. As it were he waved the girl away before his question could be answered; couldn't trust himself to avoid saying something foolish. Ya've given yer heart to a bloody Aes Sedai an' pine after a little girl who wants to be one. Fool enough fer two men an' then some. Eager to be free of thought...and lust, he tipped back his head with the now-full tankard to his lips. Even with the slightly bitter bite of poorly washed metal spilling down his throat the drink was satisfactory ...

Until he turned his head to the inn's entrance and saw her. "Oh...mother's milk in cup...."

Well she hadn't been sure what to expect when she found him and confronted him by making her appearance into the inn he had entered. Actually it was something of a relief that all her rather useless efforts to hide from detection were now put to one side. Betrys hadn't ever really made an attempt to locate someone on any sort of proper search and being sneaky didn't sit all that well with her either given her own normal open manner when dealing with the world and the various people who were found within it.

"Valadin?" she breathed the word, not really naming him or asking a question but nearly to somehow give voice to this puzzling state that she had found him in. She knew about drunks and drinking, her village had a few of those who liked to indulge in their cups she really hadn't thought that Valadin was one of them though.

She squared her shoulders and carried on walking inside. Betrys knew she'd get some looks with her Accepted dress and overall appearance, she stood out and apart from any other woman likely to be found within and it was telling by the looks delivered in her direction as she walked on over towards him including the daughter of the owner who definitely looked relieved "Is the brew good?" she asked, calmly settling down without actually asking if she could join his table, it was a touch ruder than her normal behavior but these were rather different circumstances "I haenae tried it myself" she admitted, really not sure about how to even begin to start the conversation and so rather terribly grabbing at straws in an effort to have some kind of success at kicking things off between the two of them.

"Did I do something wrong?" Betrys leaned in slightly as she asked the question, her head turning as the bright-eyed woman asked about her ordering a drink "Same as him" she replied. It might seem rather out of place for someone who was wearing the dress of an Accepted but Betrys was fairly sure she could handle it.

Once again she looked at him, eyes steady and waiting for his answer. She didn't want to lose his friendship, she really didn't and if someone she had made a mistake than she would do her hardest to fix it.

The serving girl's eyes swept between them uncertainly before turning to leave for Bee's order. Valadin stopped her, grabbing a slim wrist roughly to gain her attention.

There was something satisfying about the tilting room and the stark fear in those pretty green eyes that made it possible to fend off the mounting guilt in his heart, "Get me...me nuther one."

Nodding quickly the poor girl raced away the moment Valadin let her go. Now there was only Betrys Cadwallader and him. Light, he couldn't wait for the next drink to come.

"Ent nuthin' ya done, Bee," Valadin said when they were alone. Glancing her way quickly he found the sight of the rosy cheeked Accepted at odds with the raucous setting of the inn. A man at another table howled in laughter at some unheard jest. No gleeman took the stage tonight; the last one had been thrown outside after a poor joke made about the mountain guard's uselessness. "Ent nuthin ya done," he repeated.

Moments later the girl returned with a pitcher and a new mug for Bee. "Will that be..."

"Off with ya. Let a man...man drin...drink in peace, burn it!" Valadin cut in, face flush with rage and lowered inhibition.

Swallowing the girl bowed and exited without another word. Not waiting to be scolded, Valadin tipped some of the pitcher's content into his mug. Would be a long evening, seemed best thing he could do was steel himself for the storm.

After taking a long pull Valadin looked Bee squarely in the eye, "What're ya doin' here, Accepted?"

She was almost hurt by the nonchalant way he dismissed her fears, something that might have prompted her into leaving if Betrys was actually rather comfortable in the presence of drunks - this was definitely not her first time at the rodeo. So instead she took the cup and her own drink and held it between the tapered points of her fingers. They were rough, chapped from her time working and under the nails remained dirt - a fact consistent no matter how many times she applied soap and water to act as a remedy. Betrys wasn't ashamed of this detail, although she understand that it caused others to make specific judgments about her...right or wrong as they might be.

That was all as an aside though. Betrys knew her mind was filling in these insignificant pieces of the everyday to reassure and settle her a little more given the circumstances that she was currently finding herself needing to deal with.

"You're fine. Thank you. I'll let you know if there is anything else we'll need" she spoke clearly and with that softening of her accent as her poise straightened into the manner of a confident and controlled Accepted of the Grey Tower. It was a mask that Betrys wore but she shucked it clear just as swiftly to settle back into her comfortable and familiar self-hood "Then what hae I nae done? Yer grousing like bear with a thron in its paw and I dinnae understand why...?!" she asked, the pitch of her voice rising just a little bit at the end "Been avoiding me too. Apparently I hae some awful odor, here I were thinking that had just been unkind words but nae...cause why else would my friend nae want my company..." Betrys stared at him pointedly.

He'd hurt her deeply. Whether that had been planned or not she still hurt just the same. Betrys wasn't going to assume anything past friendship, the Arches had suggested something other, something more but that had clearly not been real and wouldn't be either. Valadin was a ....normally capable and confident man. She seriously doubted his interest in her person extended past friendly. Which didn't help her at all, yes, her heart skipped when she was around him but Betrys was confident of being able to behave "I wanted tae speak tae yerself and I went looking and..." her words trailed off as she lifted up the cup and swallowed down deeply from the contents.

The ale hardly helped weather the bitter pain in her eyes while she questioned him. Sitting across from one another in a room full of merry and drunk people, they seemed the only two of sullen mood. Valadin thought they must have made a fine sight. A Dedicated so large his seat barely big enough to contain him avoiding the needling glares of the Accepted who didn’t look half-ready to sip at the foul mixture in her mug.

There was no answer good enough. Knowing this to be true Valadin said nothing, choosing instead to pour another mouthful down his gullet. How many would it take to forget that evening? How many would take to forget all the silent nights when the instincts bred in him longed to slake thirsts that hadn’t plagued him since he’d been free of slavers? Seven? Eight?

When Cyn had died during his first year at the Tower, it had been the same. Long nights spent in the dark corner of a common room while trying to avoid passing Gaidin or Dedicated who would’ve hauled him back for penance. Usually Valadin would stagger back to his quarters of his own accord and face the wrath of the Master of Soldiers on the morrow; many had doubted thought he’d make it past Soldier for all his foolishness.

Ent much changed… he thought letting his eyes glaze over as he turned toward the jovial scene a few tables over.

It was the absence of Bee’s voice droning in the background that brought his attention back to her. She lifted her mug to lips reminding Valadin that she’d been the daughter of a brewer—perhaps she was not so out of place in a bar.

She dunt belong ‘ere. S’all yer fault. S’why ya can’t have nothin’ good. Ya ruin everythin’. Even now…yer wonderin’…eyein’…Master would be proud. Anger burned away the miasma around his mind as he sat up, cup slamming down on the wooden table as he leaned across, laying his palms flat on its surface. Beneath his weight the planks of inn floor creaked. Breaking something might’ve helped, but there was no putting the blame for his foul mood anywhere except the young girl in front of him. “Wh-what is it ya want me to say, eh?!” he hissed.

A thick tuft of black fuzz got into his mouth—consequence of neglecting to shave for the past month. Maybe when Master Elonid got off his backside and did some bloody work…

“Want to talk ‘bout the other day?! ‘Bout how I…how I…that I want—an’ you…ya made me…”

For the bluster and fury pent up inside Valadin found no words to broach the lewd truth of his desires he’d had during their training—that he had now, gazing upon innocence in her face. Master had taught his slaves how to draw more out of the inexperienced customers; noblewomen and men whose first time it was. The man had trained his slaves into specialists when it came to deviant behavior.

Frustrated, but with no way to explain his feeling Valadin fixed his mouth in a grim line before leaning back into his seat, eyes smoldering as stared at the chipped tabletop. “Need nuther bloody drink,” he grumbled after reaching for his mug revealed its emptiness yet again.

She had to admit the brew wasn't bad. It wasn't the same as at home but Betrys had tasted worse and the distance between here and the village of her childhood was more than enough to change the quality and taste of the hops used, she knew that much of the brewer's art. In fact, her father had occasionally relied on that difference when he was working on a new brew.

It was certainly strong and she got the distinct impression that this was their version of her father's 'knock-out' brew, designed to secure the unconscious state of those deemed as troublemakers before they caused any damage to the tables and buildings and other patrons, although it had always been the former that had concerned her father more. Damage to people was usually far more easily fixed, not to mention failing to cost him any actual coin.

Just what had Valadin been up too before she got here and why? That was still the question de jour and so far answers didn't seem to be forthcoming. It reminded her of how frustrated she could be with her brothers they were being particularly obtuse or just obnoxious, the common skills of siblings everywhere when it came to winding up one another "This ain't near as bad as it smells...." she muttered, needing to say something in the drawing silence between the two of them - when had that happened? And why? Always why. It seemed to be a word determined to haunt her and this conversation and she didn't like it one little bit. Betrys couldn't resolve anything if he wasn't talking and taking a random stab in the dark wasn't something she wanted to make the attempt to do. She wasn't good at such things.

"Want yer tae say? Am I your conscience tae be bothering you with what tae say!" she shouted right on back, almost standing up as well, Betrys managed to resist until he loomed over her and started to yell even louder "What are you blathering bout? Told ya I wanted tae learn and I dinnae make yerself do nowt, supposed tae be bout learning and such - yer could hae just said what yer wanted then, ain't like I'm little miss unreasonable!" Betrys took herself up and marched around to him jabbing at his shoulder "So what did ya want then? Me nae tae be hearing the Earth and such? I told yer I'd explain the Weave as best I could..." she paused and remembered he wasn't one of her siblings, so punching him and starting a barfight would not be a good idea.

Besides her Accepted robes probably wouldn't appreciate it "Yer mae friend and I like yer...nae reason tae nowt be sharing wit folks - lessen yer tae 'hinking I be a daftie?! she challenged the pitch of her voice rising up just slightly at the end, before she narrowed her eyes and stared him down, the only time she'd been able to do so given the differences in their heights.

Bloody insufferable, Valadin thought, keeping his eyes anywhere except in Betrys’ direction.

Curse the Creator that she made sense. It wasn’t her fault that the old instincts beaten into him for years could neither be tempered nor tamed whatever the setting. She had been nothing, but a friend…a rarity for someone so used to spending time alone. The faces of those whom could be called such were few and of that number most were dead or so far out of touch they would never be heard from again. Could something so precious as companionship be risked?

Another roar of laughter from the table across the room brought Valadin to his feet. He thought he heard Bee begin to say something.

“Gonna bloody…wait ‘ere!” he snapped.

Before rationality could take proper form he was at the table tapping a particularly large fellow on the shoulder. “Eh, there, friend. Come to share a drink with us? We’ve plenty to spare.”

“Burn yer bloody piss drink! Either sh—shut yer trap or…or…or I dunno. Get out. Go on! Out with ya!”

Knowing looks shared across the table only served to fuel Valadin’s ire. They would not mock him while he stood before them; he was a bloody Dedicated of the Grey Tower. “I…said…” he hissed taking the speaker of the group by the collar and dragging from his chair, “…git…bloody…out!”

By now the innkeeper had sent for on-duty mountain guardsmen. On nights like these the men and women who watched over Hama Valon could be found patrolling the streets should any need their help. Valadin knew this fact well, but drink and Bee’s inability to see what ached him had stoked a fire that wouldn’t easily flicker out.

Once out of his chair, the amiable patron became vexed at being handled so rudely. Worse was that he was the size of a bloody oxen, nearly as thick in most places. “Lad, perhaps it be best ya sleep off yer trouble,” the man warned, the other gentlemen at the table rising to their friends defense. “We want no trouble. Jus’ enjoyin’ a quiet evening an’ good company.”

Valadin snorted, “Hardly quiet, ya bleatin’ sheep.”

Veins crowned the temple of the heads of nearly all the men who'd been sitting at the table. Chairs scraped across the wood floor in anticipation as now the scene had become a spectacle for the other patrons to enjoy; no one passed up watching a good tussle.

“Gentlemen! Gentlment!” the innkeeper called. His own face was red and his upper lip glistened with sweat as he approached them. “Enough of this. You either sit down or get out! The guard will be here soon; take yer trouble elsewhere!”

“We meant no trouble ser. Jus’ havin’ a fine time after a hard day…” the large man began to complain, but a storm could not be explained away.

When fist connected with jaw and everyone watched the large man tumble into the table before collapsing in a heap on the floor, the room was as silent as death. Their shock was pleasing. “Now that’s what the room shoul…should bloody soun—sound like when I’m drinkin’,” Valadin croaked in the stillness.

He had more to say. The world needed to know that women were treacherous vixens. They twisted a man up with their gyrating hips and soft, apple-red lips until their senses were half gone only to deny responsibility in the end. Unfortunately his words were drowned out by the angry shouts and the hands that grabbed firm hold of him. Teeth, fists, and spit flew in equal measure as Valadin and a clutch of other men tumbled to the ground. Each one swore the other's mother was a goat or an ass of some kind and their father a Trolloc with manhood the size of a thimble; Valadin cursing with the best of them.

A small still-working portion of his mind worried that if Master Elonid caught word of this there would be a steep penance to pay. Still, this was far better than openly telling Bee the reason he’d been avoiding her.

She had rather been hoping that he'd at least react to something she had said or done. If he had been one of her brothers they might have ended up going a round or two with a shouting match and in at least one case they'd have swung for one another. As they had been the only men (or boys) in her life who has ever managed to irritate her, it left her without much in the way to go on how to react or act around the male sex when they managed to upset her in such a fashion.

Having him go off and basically start a bar fight hadn't been the sort of reaction which Betrys had imagined would be the result. Although to be completely honest she hadn't be that convinced that anything would happen that would give her an answer about just what was going on between the two of them - she missed her friend.

That was the end of it.

So, this was worrying.

Betrys reacted as she had done in the past when she needed to help out in wrangling the locals who had drunk too much "Yer let him up! Hands off!" she actually swung out and punched one of the patrons, who looked more than a little surprised about the small, slight appearing Accepted who had just punched him directly in the nose, someone grabbed her and tried to pull her over or away or just to grab in general and instead of going along with it she elected to kick the one doing the grabbing "Yer great arse! I ain't nae bizum tae be pawed at" she yelled at the same time, just in time to receive a solid whack to her head.

That was going to hurt, but she lacked the time to give it her full attention as she caught sight of Valadin landing on the floor with others she bent down to try and untangle him from the mess of the rest of the bodies.

"Someone help me shift this great twit!" she called out, her dress more than a little dirty now and in one section on the hem. There was also some physical damage given that it had been rather a long time since she'd needed to any of this. Thankfully, the woman from earlier decided to help out, the guards from the Hama Valon force intended to secure the peace were getting involved but hanging back given that it appeared an Accepted and a Dedicated were...having a bar fight with others? No one was completely convinced about what to do now.

As in all things born of impulse the skirmish ended once spirit-fueled passion and pride had run itself down. By that time several Guardsmen had arrived though they busied themselves with calming the irate innkeeper who stamped vehemently at whatever request had been made. No one had been seriously hurt. Most receiving a lump or two while others bled small tears of blood from one injury or another. Such was the way of nights spent at a tavern.

Valadin had received surprisingly little harm. Bee and a young woman, the redheaded serving maid from earlier, had pulled him from the fight early. Looking over the pair it was hard not to wince at the state of them.

Bee's banded dress sported streaks of filth and some places was torn altogether. Splotches of red made the small girl appear like a poorly painted doll. The serving maid had fared little better. Unruly strands stuck out from the once neatly kept braid and the apron which she'd worn to serve lay somewhere in the pile of groaning men who still had yet to fully rise to their feet.

"Ah...thank ya," Valadin muttered with sheepish smile. It seemed the only thing that an evening spent drinking couldn't dull was the burn of shame. "I...I'll try an'..."

Before the statement could be completed a hard smack snapped his head the right. After a brief spell his vision returned and regarded the scowling serving maid; it was only a little while ago he'd been pondering upon her timidity. With a huff the girl was storming in the direction of the innkeeper whose tirade came to an end when he noticed the young woman. Mistress then? Valadin guessed.

Trying to look Betrys in the eye was harder to bear than the slap. The Void could have offered him peace, but Valadin decided that she deserved to glean into his heart; she'd done enough to earn at least that much.

"Bee....I "

"Are either of you hurt?"

"We're fine, guardsman ," Valadin sighed. The guardsman was an older fellow. Scars upon the lip and ridge of his nose spoke of a lifetime of close calls in the field of battles. The guardsman hesitated, but what would already been foreseen. "Aye, pay the bloody damages with my coin."

This seemed to be enough because none of the other guardsman troubled them again. Jus' tell her! he chastised himself. Easier said than done.

"Can we take a walk? Valadin asked, hoping that the Accepted chose to leave with him.