The Grey Tower

It had been almost two weeks and Katrie was still no closer to finding a way to take a quick peek into the Warder Yards or Ravak's rooms. It was pretty much forbidden, she knew... and if caught, she would be punished accordingly. But she couldn't help it. The fact that all the rules said she wasn't allowed to merged with her overabundance of curiosity, morphing into a living, terribly restless thing that was slowly overpowering her better judgment. The plain metal key she kept in her belt pouch felt as if it was burning a hole straight through her clothes, searing against her skin.

Still, it wasn't all as bad as her mind made it out to be. She had a friend. And there was that Soldier she had encountered in the gardens... Adrian. That held so much possibility and promise. And then there was the strange something that had happened when, on a whim, she had actually begun to properly read the book she had... borrowed from the Library. The Silk Road - A Bridge Through the Spine of the World had not been as dry or as boring as she assumed it would be; in fact, she had actually enjoyed reading it. Who knew that the Aiel savages and her people had once been so connected? Certainly not her. What else had been left out by her tutors? Katrie had gone to the Library several times after that for more books to read. If her tutors back in Cairhien ever found out, they would simply keel over in shock.

The pretty Cairhienin sat on a bench just outside of the Library proper, taking full advantage of one particular spot of sunlight that streamed in from the windows. Her legs were crossed at her ankles, Katrie leaning back against the wall as she basked in the warmth. Tar Valon was even further north than Cairhien and when the cold came, it was markedly worse. She had taken full advantage of being indoors and had gone for another book after assuring a high strung Brown that she would return it as soon as her free time was over. This one was a book on the Old Tongue... whose title she couldn't pronounce. Yet. If she remembered right, her mama could speak the Old Tongue. Katrie wanted desperately to share something with her, even if it was something as odd as that.

A shadow stretched over her and blotted out her light. She made a little sound of annoyance as the warmth on her face rapidly cooled. Katrie marked where she was on the page with a finger, dark eyes slow to drift up in search of the source of the shadow.

Her expression warmed and she beamed up at who it was. “Ravak!”

His smile was a mirror to her own but he didn't say anything, dropping a folded note into her lap. The white square blended in seamlessly with the pristine white of her dress. The Shienaran Drin briskly moved away and down the hall, turning right at the first fork and disappearing from view. Katrie moved the book down into her lap, maneuvering the note so that it was hidden from sight behind the book. It was more difficult than she anticipated to unfold the note without ripping it or dropping the book, but finally, she had it smoothed out. Written in Ravak's widely spaced writing, was a simple set of directions.

Excitement and no small amount of giddiness. The book though... With a small pang of disappointment, she rose smoothly to her feet and returned it back to the safety of the hallowed Library walls, as promised. She was going to have to remember to come back for it later. Maybe she should copy all of the pages... just so she'd always have the reference available to her in her room...

Her thoughts wandered aimlessly as she followed the given directions, wondering where it lead to. Dark eyes glanced around inquisitively as the hallways she walked down became just a little dimmer. The second floor. It was probably just her imagination with the lighting, but she thought that fitting. Secret meetings should always be a little dim and away from brightly lit places. Katrie grinned a little. She didn't know how Ravak had found out about this area – she was the one with most of her classes within the Grey Tower's walls and even she didn't know about this section of what looked like even more classrooms and study rooms.

She peered at the doors, finally finding the one she wanted. Cautiously, she nudged it open, a breath of relief coming as she caught sight of Ravak inside. Katrie waved happily, the white Novice skirts flaring out around her ankles a little as she half-spun and eased the door shut behind her. The study room was moderately more comfortable than the classrooms she was accustomed to. It was a nice change. It also was not the Library so she didn't have to worry about trying to stay quiet. Katrie made her way to him, dusting off one of the tables with her fingers before hopping up to sit down on it. Her feet thumped down on the seat and she propped her elbows up on her knees. All because she could.

“Hi!” she addressed Ravak brightly, smiling. Her question from earlier bubbled out past her lips. “How did you find this place? I didn't even know about it and I have most of my classes inside the Tower!”

As the slip of paper floated away from his fingers, Ravak realised that he had been waiting a long time for this moment. He had been not been able to properly catch up with Katrie in the few occasions they had seen one another since their initial conversation in the Library. They would cross paths as they were going about their respective chores, or they may exchange a few words in the Gardens. Even the Library didn't serve as a good meeting point. It would only require a few words into the right ears from an attentive passerby, and they'd be in front of their respective Mistresses getting reprimanded about 'inappropriate relationships'. Not that anything unbecoming would happen between them, even if they had a chance.

He turned and walked down the corridor briskly, aware that another pair of eyes seeing a note passed between two initiates would only conclude one thing. Light, why do they make it so challenging to have friends! This sort of surreptitious behaviour was not one he was accustomed to. He had had a few female friends back home, and never needed to hide that fact from anyone. Even when he was caught stealing kisses - or having kisses stolen, he thought impishly - the reaction from his friends wasn't scandalised, but teasing. The only time he had been lectured was when he was found with his head on Berana's lap, and that was only because Berana had been his sister's best friend. Had been. He still felt guilty for causing that rift between the two of them, and he genuinely didn't realise how fond Berana had been of him.

That brought a wry grin to the Drin's face. He wondered if Katrie knew how fondly he thought of her. Doubtful. After all, it had been made abundantly clear that he wanted nothing untoward - Light, he hated that word - nothing untoward to pass between them. Just friends, came a taunting voice in the back of his mind, whilst she looks about for another man to bond to. He grimaced. Forming a Bond was a long time off for either of them, but he was unduly aware that one of the women in these halls would one day hold his bond. At present, the only person he felt comfortable being bound to was Katrie. I wonder if that would somehow make me a lord?

A vexed hiss at his own foolish fancies rose in his throat. He glared at the hallway ahead, his destination in sight. Checking over his shoulder that the corridor was empty, he pushed open the thick oak door to the study room. He breathed out in relief, not realising that he had been holding it. He did a quick scan around the room, worried in case anyone else knew. The tables and chairs seemed untouched since he had last been in, so he took the desk at the front of the room. He stretched suddenly, feeling the aches and injuries along his upper torso. He brushed specks of white from his uniform, then ran hands over it to make it seem smooth and uncreased. It wasn't vanity, just pride of who he was and where he was. A Drin'far'ji of the Grey Tower; a man of honour.

Rav sat waiting with restrained impatience. He had considered how to word the directions, to make it as unambiguous as possible. He had written them out in his best hand, but compared to Katrie's flowing hand, his looked like chicken scratchings. He wasn't stupid, but he had little need to write back home. The feel of a quill was odd in his hand.

That thought cut off as the door was pushed open, Katrie breathing out with her own held breath as she entered. She made a cheerful wave as she turned to close the door, then she was sat on a table, feet resting on the seat. There was a beaming smile on her face, and he couldn't keep but return it. "How did you find this place?"

There was still the warm expression on Rav's face, but his tone was a little questioning as he answered. "I'm not entirely sure. One day, I must have found myself wandering this way instead of to the Library." He shrugged. He couldn't quite remember himself how he'd found this room, only that he was glad he had. He continued in a merrier tone. "It doesn't matter though. I keep moving things around, just a little, to see if anyone else uses the room. I'm pretty sure no-one comes here besides me. And you, now." He shared a grin. Katrie returned a candid look of delight that made Rav grateful. He understood very little of the Great Game that Cairheinian played, but he knew that it made them a guarded people. He just wanted a straightforward conversation, without her having to watch his words for hidden meanings.

Curses. He wanted to ask her about saidar and the One Power, but those questions would bring to mind the Aes Sedai and the Asha'man. Even if they didn't play Daes Dae'mar, their schemes seemed equal in their complexity and deviousness. He sought another topic of conversation.

"Did you see the Gardens?" His voice was scandalised. "Someone's turned it into an imitation of the Blight! Trolloc-shaped trees and plants. No-one's saying who did it, but it seems like far too horrific a thing to be a prank."

She smiled, again, nodding at the Shienaran Drin's explanation of how he had found this study room. It really was easy to get turned around here, what, with all of the hallways and corridors looking the same. There were still some areas of the Tower that she herself would up having to backtrack through and she had been here for a handful of years. Katrie glanced around to study the furniture – clever that he had thought of that little trick to see if anyone used this room!

It would be nice to have some place to go to get away for a while. No constant awareness of always being watched, without always having that sensation of people being around. Not even her tiny Novice room offered a safe haven anymore. Even though Shailar and herself... had reached an unspoken agreement to ignore one another, it wasn't the same. The barbar – other Novice wouldn't interfere in her affairs and she wouldn't interfere in hers, but the fact of the matter remained that there was always someone else there.

"Did you see the Gardens?" Ravak's voice broke through her thoughts, the question coming out less of a request and more like a demand. She felt her lips twitch at how scandalized he sounded. "Someone's turned it into an imitation of the Blight! Trolloc-shaped trees and plants. No-one's saying who did it, but it seems like far too horrific a thing to be a prank."

“Really?” The pretty Cairhienin leaned forward, dark eyes dancing. “I haven't seen it! But that sounds like a wonderful prank!” She immediately realized that that had not been the correct thing to say. Ravak's expression matched the earlier tone of his voice as he simply stared at her. “I mean – no, no, that's absolutely not a wonderful prank,” she corrected herself hastily. The Shienaran's face only darkened further. “It's horrible.” He shook his head at her, incredulity and... something else in his light eyes. “Terrible?” she asked hopefully, brows lifting.

“Katrie...” he sounded pained.

“I'm sorry, Rav.” She made a helpless gesture with her hands, not realizing she had shortened his name. It never occurred to her that he might find the action overly familiar – she was flustered and her tongue wouldn't properly form the syllables for his full name. As it was, it nearly tripped itself up into knots as she tried to explain herself, feeling self-conscious beneath the weight of his gaze. “I'm trying not to be impressed but I am. Ialsostillthinkitsawonderfulprank.” She blurted out all at once, her voice small.

This wasn't how she wanted to start off their second meeting. She had wanted to ask him about his training, if he'd seen any interesting things, learned anything new. Katrie had done some reading herself, on different topics, even on books that had friendships in them and she had so many questions! About the stories, about the characters in them, about why they did what they did... she wanted to ask Ravak, since they were friends... but he was glowering again looking none too pleased with her.

She frowned at him, somewhat bewildered. What was so bad about that prank anyway?? It wasn't as if there were real Trollocs in the Gardens... they were just plants! Plants couldn't come to life and hurt people. Katrie sat up straighter as a sudden thought occurred to her. But what if they could in the Blight? She snuck a peek over at Ravak. Maybe that's why he was so upset. He was from Shienar – a Borderlander – he would know... more than she would, at any rate.

“What's it like?” she asked out loud, the sound of her voice piercing the air between them. At his swift glare, she clarified, undaunted and utterly unfazed by the heated expression. “The Blight, I mean. What's it like? I've never seen it before. I want to know what it's like.” She nodded thoughtfully. “I want to see it.”

”You do not want to see the Blight,” he said in a firm tone. “Trust me, I don’t want to see the Blight.” His face was a study in conflicting emotions, but that was softer a reaction than she had been bracing for. He seemed... calm. She had thought he would have looked more like what she imagined someone would look like if she had hit them across the shoulders with one of the study room's many chairs.

“Yes. I do.” Katrie enunciated each world clearly, struggling to get her point across to him. “I want to understand it. I don't know what the Blight is like... what it looks like, what it does. How am I supposed to help fight back against it if I don't know what it's like?” She hadn't really thought of it that way before, but as the words left her mouth, she found that she liked the idea. “My papa said that you did yourself a disservice if you didn't learn all you could about your enemy.” She was paraphrasing but it was close enough.

The pretty Cairhienin smoothed at the white fabric that draped over her knees and tucked some hair behind her ears. Slowly, she continued on. “I can read about it all, I'm sure, but...” she let her voice trail off. “I'm asking you. Because we're friends. I don't understand why you're upset,” Katrie admitted reluctantly before she gave him an imploring look. “And I would like to understand.”

"Katrie..." His voice was pained. He knew that she didn't understand how real the threat of Trollocs were, of the mortal danger they posed to everyone he knew in Fal Dara, lying as close to the Blightborder as it did. No doubt the perpetrators of this prank were also ignorant of that fact. He tried to temper his feelings, but there were certain things you didn't joke about. The very real presence of the Dark One's touch on the world was one of them.

"I'm sorry Rav. I'm trying not to be impressed, but I am." She shrugged. It seemed an oddly demure gesture coming from the Cairheinian. "I also still think it's a wonderful prank!" She said that hurriedly, in a quiet voice, her eyes looking away in... shame?

He felt guilty at admonishing her.

She was just talking about plants, and you're rattling off as if she's courting with Trollocs instead. His brow furrowed, agitation welling up at his bullheaded actions. They should be able to have a civil conversation about anything, and the Blight wasn't some exceptional topic. They were both training to fight the Shadow, in their respective ways. Why wouldn't she be curious, and why wouldn't she ask a Borderlander. It seemed obvious in retrospect. Rav looked at Katrie, and his frown deepened.

"What's it like?" Katrie's dark eyes met Rav's icy cold stare. He was outwardly aware of how he was glaring at her, but the expression on his face was set. She continued unperturbed. "The Blight, I mean. What's it like? I've never seen it before. I want to know what it's like. I want to see it."

”You do not want to see the Blight,” he said in a firm tone. “Trust me, I don’t want to see the Blight.” He tried keeping his features soft, but this was not a topic he wished to be challenged on. They were both still too young, or in his case inexperienced, to go gallivanting near the Blight. Light, he didn't think he would wish to step out the Malkier Gate, if he could avoid it.

"Yes, I do." She spoke emphatically. Ravak knew that she deserved to know more. Her impassioned words slowly got through the wall of Shienaran honour and duty that he had encased himself in. "I don't understand why you're upset, and I would like to understand." He scratched at his scalp, an excuse to look away from Katrie's searching eyes. He felt his stomach knot in recognition of his own obstinance.

He answered slowly. "I'm upset because I am being bull-headed. You have every right to ask, and I have no good reason not to answer." He slid the ring off his finger, and began to play with it restlessly. "I can't tell you much about the Blight. It's a desolate place, from what I understand, and very hot. As sweltering the Aiel Waste, I've heard. But I don't know much beyond that." He met her stare, and saw the doubt in her eyes. She expected more. "I've never seen the Blight," he offered in explanation. "Never been close. You can see some of the signal towers along the border from Fal Dara, but I've never taken a step north of the city."

"Maybe I'll be able to tell you more..." he paused briefly, "once I know more." That knot in his stomach became a fist of ice, but he pressed through it. "Ask me something about Shadowspawn, and I know plenty. But of the Blight itself, I don't know any more than what I've just said."

He slumped back in his seat, feeling drained. He had skirted by the whole truth, but he wasn't going to say a word about that. There was still that searching look in her eyes. Does she know I'm holding something back, or is she still worried that I'm upset?

He straightened, leaned with his elbows on the desk, placing the ring down flat. "I'm not upset, and I'll tell you more when I know. No more secrets." There was a flash of something dangerous in Katrie's face as he said that. Oh Light-

"No more secrets?" she asked. There was definitely something dangerous in that glance. Either he had promised to tell her the unadulterated truth from here on out, or he had admittedly to hiding things from her. Despite not intending to, he'd landed himself in a cookpot once more.

At his reassurance that he wasn't upset, Katrie's relief was almost palpable. She was trying, she really was, but... well... it seemed she wasn't as quick a study as she prided herself at being. That was an unpleasant thing to swallow. She was both grateful and fortunate that Ravak was willing to be patient with her.

"No more secrets," the Shienaran Drin finished solemnly.

All of her thoughts evaporated and it was an easy thing to slip back into old habits, old practices, old thought patterns reinforced by her papa. Her gaze became a touch predatory as she studied Ravak. What was he hiding? He was an honourable sort – that was known to her. His secrets would likely revolve around duty... honour, two things that seemed to go hand in hand. She found herself leaning forward despite herself.

“No more secrets?” Katrie's voice was a low purr, a dark brow lifting as she repeated it after him. She could... it would be so easy... Her mouth opened, then deliberately closed. No... she... wasn't supposed to. Did she really want to do this to him? She wavered between 'yes' and 'no'.

A brief struggle ensued within her slender frame, the urge to wring each and every secret from him for leverage warring with the fact that he was her friend and she knew, now, that twisting Ravak around her little finger for her own gain was not something that a friend would do. The books had told her that much at any rate. And she found that using him in that fashion was not something she particularly wanted to do. Thinking about doing so made her feel... bad. Katrie hesitated, painfully aware that her crisis of conscience was blaring across her face.

She breathed out slowly, hopping down from her perch on the desk. She took the chair next to his, her mind made up. “Rav – may I call you that?” It was asked shyly, but a delighted smile appeared at his nod. “Alright then. Rav.” Her entire demeanour changed then and for a moment, there was darkness in her gaze that had nothing to do with the deep brown of her eyes. “Never, ever tell a Cairhienin that. Not even me. In fact, don't say it like that to anyone else. I almost... I thought about using your willingness to my advantage.” Katrie shook her head, unable to meet his eyes.

“Everyone has secrets. I think everyone needs to have a secret or two.” She propped her chin up for something to do that wouldn't require looking at Rav, elbows resting on the desk in front of her. She wasn't quite ready to see how disappointed he was in her quite yet. “Tell me instead that you'll be honest with me, or something like that, and that's good enough for me. Don't tempt me with the word 'secrets'... please.”

The pretty Cairhienin was quiet for a long moment, prodding at one of the table legs with the toe of her white slipper. But she couldn't stay silent. Not after that.

“Rav?”

“Yes?” he answered promptly and the fact that he wasn't ignoring her gave Katrie the courage to glance over at him.

“I'm sorry,” she said unhappily. “For thinking about using you to get at your secrets.”

“But you didn't.” She didn't understand why he was speaking so gently.

“Well, no – but I thought about it and –”

He didn't let her finish, his voice firm as he cut through her words. “But you didn't. That is what's important.”

Oh. Katrie mulled that over in her mind, turning the thought over to examine it thoroughly. “Because I chose not to...?”

“Yes.” He smiled at that, and she bloomed beneath it, warmth suffusing her.

“It... it made me feel bad, thinking about it,” she admitted ruefully, wrinkling her nose. She let her hands fall away from her face and the unhappy expression returned. “But if my papa found out, I think he'd be disappointed in me.” Katrie blew out a breath, sagging back in her chair. “Let's talk about something else. Anything else. The Blight. Shadowspawn.” Her eyes fell on the simple circle of gold laying flat on the desk between his elbows.

She bit down on her bottom lip in a complete breach of Cairhienin composure – one more thing for her papa to be embarrassed over. She felt an icy flood of shame, but Katrie stubbornly held on the way that Rav's smile made her feel. She indicated the ring in front of him. “Do you have someone waiting for you back home in Fal Dara?” The ring made her think of his finger, the one that was short a fingertip. “Will you tell me what happened to your finger?” That was asked quietly, Katrie quick to add an easy escape. “I know you said you didn't want to talk about it when we first met... you still don't have to if you don't want to.”

He had expected a reaction, a strong and forceful reaction, but not this. Katrie's tone was serious and hard, her eyes simmering with intensity. It wasn't anger that came across, but a hard warning. In a way, it sounded like she wanted to protect him from something - my own tongue, he thought. But then she transformed, that expression of shame shrinking her frame, her eyes unable to meet his gaze.

"Tell me instead that you'll be honest with me." That statement stood out. It was self-evident that friends were honest with each other, most of the time, or at least that fact was self-evident to Rav. He looked at her with uneasy blue-grey eyes, and wished he could bring a smile back to her face. He wanted to reach out and give her a consoling hug, but that was possibly too forward a gesture towards a Cairheinin.

When she spoke again, she revealed the source of her shame. His secrets weren't so dark or terrible to merit such a response, even if she had asked. Those secrets were tied more to guilt than to anything ruinous. The reassurances he returned were genuine. If she had asked, then he would have answered, and not just because his tongue had run off with thinking first. That wasn't what he said, of course. Katrie needed patience and understanding, and he gave it to her. His reward was that smile.

And then it was gone. "It made me feel bad, thinking about it. But if my papa found out, I think he'd be disappointed in me." She had touched on her parents once, in a way that left the Shienaran uncertain of what her feelings were. The rest of her family may have dismissed or ostracised her, but her parents were another matter. He would have asked, delicately, but she moved onto questions of her own. Two questions, one far easier to answer than the other.

He looked at the ring that lay on the table between them. It was a simple band of gold with no markings or decorations. It was thick, designed for a man's finger. A different man's finger. He considered many ways on how to answer her question, in ways that were elusive and in ways that were transparent. The truth itself was a little plain.

She had pointed at the ring, so he answered that question directly. "No, that ring wasn't from a woman. I'm not promised to anyone, or married, if that's what you're wondering." Calm and relaxed was the tone he had gone with, the unfurnished truth. Unfurnished. He had dodged the actual question as well as an Aes Sedai might have. His mouth curled at the corner, disgruntled with his own subterfuge. She had asked for honesty. Honesty.

"However, there is someone waiting for me at home." There was a strain in his voice now, a streak of sorrow that the Novice picked up on.

"Who? Is she pretty?" He barked a quiet laugh. It was not unsurprising that she would assume he meant a sweetheart, although he didn't think she'd ask something that so clearly pointed towards that.

"Yes, she is pretty. But I'm talking about my sister, Elia, not someone else." He chuckled softly as realisation crossed Katrie's face. He thought some red was coming to her cheeks. To spare her needless embarrassment, he moved on.

"As for my finger..." He drummed his right hand on the table, drawing attention to it. "Some men need to be reminded of their duty. That can be a case of a simple upbraiding, in private or otherwise. There's also many ways in which a soldier can pay penance for crimes committed. For myself..." He curled the rest of his fingers underneath his palm, stretching his ring finger on the table. With his other hand, he made a chopping motion, landing just above where his finger ended.

"Oh Rav, that's horrible!" Katrie's voice was filled with concern, her hand moving swiftly to cover his own, as if to shield him from the trauma anew. He paused at her touch. From anyone else, he would have discounted this as a simple show of compassion. From Katrie, who's comprehension of friendships was curious at best, this had greater meaning.

"Thank you." He turned his hand over, and returned a tender squeeze. He kept his mind from running, wishing that this was the start of something more. But dreams and fantasies were pushed aside. He had a duty of care, a duty of friendship to maintain. "But it was a lesson that needed teaching. I would not have ended here, if not for that."

Rav found her expression unreadable. He found that women could give that look sometimes, that made you question what you had done and said, what you hadn't done or forgot to say. Maybe she was still thinking about his finger, or about Elia, or about her hand on his- Oh, control yourself boy. He forced himself to maintain a level look, smiling and observant, but inside he cursed. She needed him as a friend more than he needed her to be... His cheeks began to colour in spite of himself. His mind sought refuge.

"Er, Katrie." It quelled his mind slightly, just saying her name out loud, but he still scrambled for something to say.

"Yes?" Her tone was just as unreadable to the Sheinaran.

"You don't, I mean, do you have someone waiting at home for you?"

The story connected to his ring wasn't anything terribly interesting, but then, not all stories would be. Katrie didn't mind too much though – Rav wasn't upset with her and that was more important.

Well, naturally he would have someone waiting for him at home. He was too kind and nice not to. The answer surprised her though. His sister! She felt her face grow hot at her mistaken presumption. Katrie hadn't thought of that possibility... he had a sister! It made her pause in wonder. Rav's sister. What would she be like, this Elia? Katrie imagined that she would have red hair, like him... and pretty! Rav had said that Elia was pretty. That stuck with her. What was it like to have a brother or a sister that actually liked you? She wouldn't know... but maybe she could ask Rav later about it.

She didn't have time to examine that thought though as he began speaking of his finger. Katrie instantly regretted asking, cursing her curiosity as well her big mouth. She had wondered – and assumed wrongly again – that it had been some kind of innocent accident. Not...! Not punishment! She couldn't hide her horror as she watched his hand come down on the finger in question with an abrupt chopping motion.

“Oh Rav, that's horrible!” she exclaimed, unable to express the scope of her regret verbally. Light, of course it was horrible! What a useless thing to say! Frustrated at herself, she tried again, but was unsuccessful, her voice catching in her throat. Without any recourse left, her hand shot out and pressed firmly down on his, Katrie hoping that she could somehow make it better with a touch since she was so useless with words.

“Thank you.” Rav's voice was soft, as soft as the pressure he exerted to turn her hand over in his. The squeeze he gave her hand was gentle. He... appreciated her gesture then? Relief washed over her like a cool wave of water. Now that it was too late to take it back, Katrie had been worried for a moment that he would consider it inappropriate. “But it was a lesson that needed teaching. I would not have ended here, if not for that.”

No lesson requires part of your finger to be chopped off! Katrie wanted to tell him, but she didn't think that it would come across well. She didn't want him to think she was lecturing him. Not to mention, the sentiment felt like it was hollow... obviously, there was nothing either of them could do about Rav's finger now. Who would do something like that? She couldn't imagine it being his parents... or his sister. Someone else then. But who? The pretty Cairhienin grappled with that, her mood darkening. Maybe Fal Dara wasn't such a nice place after all.

“Er, Katrie.” Her name brought her back to the present.

“Yes?” she answered carefully, forming the word slowly so her tongue wouldn't twitch and blurt out all of what she was just thinking about.

“You don't, I mean, do you have someone waiting at home for you?”

The way he asked it made her take a closer look at him, a delighted smile coming to her face as she saw that he was... blushing a little. The pale skin around his neck and cheeks made it impossible to miss, and impossible for him to hide, but she spared him any outright teasing and gave him a little knowing look instead.

She didn't answer right away, taking the time to maneuver his hand into both of hers. She turned his hand back around until his palm was facing up, his knuckles flat against the desk between them. She placed her fingers on either side of his splayed hand and spent the next several minutes completely content to simply explore the lines and hard calluses she found. It was such a small thing, really, her fingertips against his palm, but she found that she missed the connection of simple touch. She didn't want to let go of it... or Rav... or his hand. So she didn't.

Her expression was thoughtful as she wrapped her hands around his fingers. “No,” she replied with a little shrug. “No one waiting at home for me. Papa didn't encourage any kind of... emotional attachment. My mama did though, but... well, she was ill often. I didn't get to spend much time with her.” She smiled crookedly, her tone wistful. “I miss my mama but she wouldn't want me to go back to Cairhien. She'd want me to become Aes Sedai and get out from beneath my family's shadow.” Katrie squeezed his fingers, as gentle as he had been with her her hand earlier, drawing comfort from the way their warmth mingled together. She felt calmer, better able to focus. “I think she'd like you, Rav. My mama, I mean. My papa... I don't know, but I get the feeling he just doesn't like other people.”

The quiet that fell upon the room was not the awkward silence that people found difficult to tolerate. It was the respect being paid to one of those tender moments that interspersed the rest of life's drudgery. With unparalleled restraint, Ravak outwardly did nothing as Katrie scrutinised his right hand. His mind however raced like surging floodwaters. He had to literally bite down on his tongue to stop himself from being swept up in those childish fantasties.

Beyond the adolescent thoughts that sullied his own opinion of himself, Rav enjoyed the delicacy of Katrie's touch. Her fingers were gentle, exploring his hand with the same attentive care one would handle Sea Folk porcelain with. She didn't shy away from his shorn finger, but gave it no undue attention neither. The Cairheinin and Shienaran wore a shared expression of pleasant contentment.

Rav didn't catch Katrie's first word, but her diminutive shrug drew his notice. Her voice was forlorn as she spoke about her parents, or at least for her mother. How hard an upbringing had Katrie endured, between scornful half siblings and a father who repressed... what? And her mother wouldn't want her to return home? Peace, did I enjoy a sheltered childhood. And what family would treat a child with such negligence? He chose not to dwell on that, anger threatening to break through. She squeezed his fingers, and he managed a slight smile. "I think she'd like you, Rav. My mama, I mean." His smile grew wider by a fraction. "My papa..." His smile diminished.

Time passed in silence once more. It was Ravak's turn now to comfort. Petite, copper hands lay in pale, toughened palms, his fingers cupping her wrists lightly. He traced the line of one vein with a finger, dimly aware of her heartbeat. Fine hairs stirred on her arms in response to his touch. He wanted to hold her close, to let her know that she'd not be lacking for 'emotional attachment' again. He would somehow make up for the childhood she had been deprived. His heart quickened. Rav wanted to protect her from everything; everything that had happened to her, and anything that would happen to her. He didn't know what that meant, how much influence her father or siblings could have on her within the Grey Tower, but he would insulate her from it.

With a long soundless sigh, he released the lungful of air that he hadn't noticed he was holding. His pulse drummed in his ears. He also noted, evidently having lost himself in thought, that Katrie's hands were now fully contained with his embrace. Actions mirroring thoughts, a humoured voice entoned. He met her eyes with a steely determination. "I'll always be here for you, Katrie. Now and for always."

The feather-like sensation of Rav's fingertip moving along the sensitive skin of her pulse point was as welcome as it was surprising. It was utterly unexpected, the heat from the barely there contact between fingertip and inner wrist flashing up through her arm in a rush of fire. Katrie's sense of time slowed as her mind filled with warmth, the memory of gentle pressure and brief heat lingering long after he had finished drawing the tentative line.

Almond shaped dark eyes searched the Shinearan Drin's face. Katrie didn't know what Rav was thinking, but there was something... different to the set of his shoulders. The way the line of his jaw tensed was noticeable to her but only because she was watching his face. The blue-grey eyes that gazed down at their hands seemed to look both through and into her, through and into the very marrow of her bones. What was he looking at, she wondered, and what did he see? Heat shot up her arm again. What did any of this mean? Katrie knew what it meant for her... or rather, knew what this would've meant with anyone else... but Rav had been very clear on what he expected that day in the Library; the key had been given to her as act of friendship – no other meanings, no hidden implications.

Her head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. She was probably putting too much of her own experiences into what Rav was doing. She knew men... or at least, she thought she did. Katrie had been discomfited by this thought before, but she couldn't deny the truth of it. She had understood men – she was certain she still did, for the most part. But Ravak Darrow was like no man she had ever encountered before. None of them had ever been content to simply sit and talk with her. They had been very singular in their pursuit for her company. They certainly didn't care for her curiosity or her questions. Rav not only entertained her, her curiosity, and her questions – he encouraged them. She... didn't want to upset him... From what she could tell (and that was always iffy at best) he didn't seem upset right now.

She couldn't remember when Rav had gathered both of her hands into his, but his hands were larger and thicker than hers. The warm hue of her coppery skin stood out in stark contrast to the pinkish paleness of his. The pretty Cairhienin noticed this almost distractedly, her mind both strangely still yet buzzing. As lightly as her palms rested on top of his, Katrie could still pick out where the coarse edges of each of his earned calluses began, could feel how the skin had become thicker and harder along the pads of his fingers to protect itself from the repeated abuse of training.

Suddenly, he was gazing into her eyes again, unwavering and firm. The blue-grey of his eyes filled her vision. “I'll always be here for you, Katrie. Now and for always.”

“Rav...” But the pretty Cairhienin didn't know what else to say. The way Rav had said it was important... It meant something... something more than she could comprehend. Katrie felt a pang of frustration. She could feel something change between them in the way the words hung in the air, suspended by the Shienaran Drin's intensity, but she didn't know what. Did he? For some reason, it didn't feel right to ask... like by doing so, she would ruin... or cheapen what had just passed between them.

But she wanted to understand. She didn't want to upset him. She didn't want to hurt him because she was struggling to understand. And then her body proved that it could, in fact, work both faster than her mind could process and that it didn't necessarily need conscious thought on her part. Because of her height, Katrie was able to lean in and close the distance between them without having to get out of her chair. Her hands instinctively tightened around his, her very tip of her nose bumping against his temple. She felt the faintest pulling sensation against her eyelids, almost like an odd tickle, as the long curl of her lashes grazed the spot just above Rav's cheekbone. She always had been better at demonstrating.

Her lips brushed against his cheek.

She sat back slowly, and though her smile was small it was genuine. “Thank you, Rav. I...” she fumbled to find the words, forcing herself to articulate – however clumsily – what she felt for once, rather than simply shrug it off and sweeping it to the side. She didn't understand it, but she needed to try, at the very least. Rav was staring at her, his expression indecipherable to her. He looked... stunned? No... dazed? Why? She found that a little bewildering. She flushed a little under his look, a gentle stain of heat moving beneath the copper skin of her neck.

“Rav...?” she began hesitantly, unsure of herself. “I... if I ever upset you, or hurt you, or... or make you mad, know that it's not what I ever want to do.” A furrow appeared between her brows as she tripped over her own tongue. Katrie still held on to his hands, her voice soft. “I've never had someone to talk with before... or who wanted to talk with me. You still do, right? I didn't upset you?”

Rav's heartbeat pounded in his ears, but he heard Katrie's uncertain "Rav" all the same. Her eyes seemed to scan his face, looking for the hidden meaning behind his words. Even with the warning of what not to say to a Cairheinin present in his mind, he knew that it had been the correct thing to say. His heart told him that. His head warned him about the dangers of relationships, not just because of the Tower's rules on that subject, but because of what duty required him to do. There was turmoil there, and had been since he had spoken with the Mistress of Training. He was bound to Shienar, as he was bound to the Grey Tower. And bound to now Katrie. He had made the mountain heavier, but it was the right thing to do. Somehow he would find a way to fulfill all of his obligations.

Her grip on his hands intensified. At first, Rav worried that she thought he'd overstepped the mark. His neck literally stiffen in preparation to rebuff whatever the Novice chose to say on the matter. Words may not have any actual force behind them, but he'd made that promise as much to her and he had to himself. He wouldn't break his word on this for anyone.

All of those thoughts were unneeded however, as Katrie leaned towards him with that flawless, burnished complexion that was uniquely hers. Waves of liquorice-brown hair tumbled over the sides of her face, covering delicate ears and prominent cheekbones. He caught the faint whiff of lilacs in the air between them. Rav loved the look of her face, so gorgeous, young and unblemished. Her eyelashes, long and curved over almond-shaped eyes, brought a tingle as they brushed over his skin. Then those lips graced his cheek, sumptuous and sensuous.

Had the Wheel of Time stopped turning in that instant, Ravak Darrow, son, brother and Drin'far'ji, would have died a happy man.

He felt his heart pulse once. Then a second beat. He was still alive. Seeming every inch the lady, Katrie glided back into her seat with poise, her lips radiating a palpable sense of delight. Faintly he hoped he was returning a similar look, but control over his face was gone alongside almost everything else. He wanted to etch that kiss, that face, that smell into his mind. Her words too, spoken so breathlessly. "Thank you Rav." Time hadn't stopped, but he never wanted to forget this.

Another silence fell on the near-empty classroom, but this time markedly different. Rav had been kissed before, of course, and he had given kisses in exchange. And he could dance without stumbling over his own two feet, most of the time. However, he had always been the one being chased; his hand was the one being dragged off into some secluded street or garden. Ravak had never been the one to initiate designs with the fairer sex. He sat in silence, still revelling from Katrie's kiss, but at a loss on how to proceed.

She only brought him more joy when she broke the silence, saving him from embarassment. Oddly, it was the gorgeous Cairheinin who sounded embarassed... or worried? "If I ever upset you, or hurt you, or make you mad, know that it's not what I ever want to do." Now where in the Light did that come from? Women were strange creatures sometimes. How could any of this be upsetting? If he had a little less composure, he'd be finding it hard to remain seated. And make him mad? Admittedly, she had riled him up during their first encounter in the Library, but getting mad with kissing?

Katrie continued before his thoughts could get any further. "I've never had someone to talk with before... or who wanted to talk with me. You still do, right? I didn't upset you?"

"Of course not," he replied without pause. They were still holding one another's hands, and he gave a comforting squeeze. She was frowning, and he hadn't the foggiest as to why. "I..." lov- No! He wanted nothing more than to tell her how he felt, but that was self-serving and selfish. What would even transpire between them if he had said what he meant to say, a Drin and a Novice? It sounded like the start of a fool's tale. He felt a small pang of pride at being more concerned for her outcome than his own.

So what am I going to say instead? That was a far harder thing to think of. He wanted to protect her, that much he knew. And that includes from your fool emotions, boy. That voice was his uncle, he realised, and it made him tense slightly. He sought for words that were genuine and comforting. He managed to get halfway. "I am your friend, Katrie." Even as her worry noticably lessened, his own heart sunk. "I'll always be here to talk to." His stomach felt hollow, like the bottom had fallen out and a gaping vaccum was beyond. He closed his eyes to say the rest, not letting the shrill cry of insolent, wanton need seep out. "I'm here for you."