The Grey Tower

The third bell after Low struck, and Rav closed the door to his room with a thankful sigh; an hour scrubbing pots took a toll on more than his arms. He crossed the room to his desk and dropped into the chair with a thud. The next hour was meant to be dedicated to homework, followed by another hour of personal studies. He had no intention of moving from this room, and mournfully regretted not locking the door when he was still standing up.

Reaching across the table, he pulled the quill and inkwell towards him. Despite the lack of light shining through the avendesora-patterned windows, both items seemed to shimmer as he moved them. They were an ongoing fascination, these paired items: a ter’angreal. Ink flowed from the well into the quill as he wrote, and the ink never blotted the paper. It made writing a little less arduous, not the most impressive feat aided by the One Power, but it was a ter’angreal nonetheless.

He placed the items back against the wall. There wasn’t much else adorning his desk. A couple of books from the Tower’s Library, borrowed with permission; a small sheaf of papers; and his sword-breaker. There were hooks on the walls for him to hang his sword-breaker off - that was where his new longsword resided - but he liked having this weapon close to hand. Not for security. The blade had been his father’s. He carried another item on him that had been someone else’s, but it wasn’t like that. His father was still alive, the last time he’d seen him. Almost two years ago. Grey-blue eyes glanced at the quill and papers. He could have written back home any time over those last two years, to check on his parents or his sister. Disregarding thoughts of home, he started to unbutton his tunic. It stuck to him, clammy after a day of training and scrubbing. The weather hadn’t helped. With no wind under a cloudless sky, and no shade in the Training Yards, he was lucky not to have burned. Peeling the shirt off finally, he threw it atop the chest at the end of his bed.

He heard the creak of the floor just outside his room, giving him enough time to twist in his seat to see the door open. A hand surreptitiously held the door as it gently opened, and a surprising figure appeared. Surprising on a number of levels, the Ji noted. Katrie, normally a picture of poise and finesse - at least until she opened her mouth - looked disheveled. Her Accepted’s dress was scrunched all around her waist, from where she had obviously been gripping her skirts. It was unlike her to be flustered, and that put him on edge. Her eyes had a wildness to them, which was mirrored by her hair. What had she been doing?

Rav had anticipated this moment for a long time, since he had handed her the key to his room. Several scenarios had played out in his mind on how this encounter may go, but none of them started like this. He pushed himself to standing, and was halfway across the room when she closed the door behind her. Something made him pause from reaching out to her.

“By the Light, what’s happened to you?”

There were times during the waking moments of her day that she wanted nothing more than to simply reach inside her skull and claw Dax’s presence out of her mind. Maybe if she split her head open, that knot of emotion and awareness that was the Tairen would come spilling out as well. Katrie felt him, every single second and it made her want to scream. She had done that too, on occasion, screened and protected by the ward that kept out sound. What had she been thinking, bonding him? It was horrible and intrusive and Light, there was nowhere to escape to… no way to escape from.

What had she done? What had she done?

That question pressed in against her, ugly and suffocating with its guilt. It thundered against her mind as she stood in the Barracks, the scent of warmth and metal and leather enveloping her. It howled at her as she finally came face to face with the Shienaran and his blue-grey eyes. Shame was her constant companion and she floundered beneath the weight of it all. She didn’t know why she had come to Rav’s room - what did she hope to do? What did she hope she might find here? It hurt to look at him, but the thought of not telling him hurt more. Katrie couldn’t explain why - just that it did, and she wanted so very badly to stop hurting.

Everyone has secrets, she had told him once, confident in her own idiocy. And now, she was slowly being eaten alive by the secret that thrummed inside of her brain.

She felt small and powerless beneath the weight of his gaze, the tall Accepted actually seeing Rav for the first time in… she couldn’t remember how long. That day in the study room, that amazing, amazing day, seemed so long ago. Months? Had it been months? It couldn’t have been years… could it? The faint stubble on his cheeks had transformed into a full-fledged beard, the reddish brown hair a shade or two darker than the hair on the crown of his head. He was… broader than she remembered, no doubt from the training. He had an air of confidence about him now, something that had not been there when they had first met.

And. He was shirtless.

Her shoulders jerked a little as she bit down on the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing hysterically. She clamped down tightly on that wayward thought, lest it escape the confines of her skull. Forcing herself to focus, she made herself consider his question, her voice still shaking from the feverish jumble of emotions that threatened to spill forth in either frantic tears or manic laughter.

“I did something very very bad,” Katrie finally managed to say, a strange bubble of sound hiccuping from her throat as she forced herself to meet and hold Rav’s steady gaze. If the floor were to simply open up and swallow her whole, she would be grateful for it.

That sounded a little more like the Katrie he knew. A little. The words were right, but her voice was strained in an odd way. Whatever she had done probably didn’t merit such a severe reaction. She was rather flighty like that, sometimes. But it was still his responsibility to root out whatever was troubling her, and to correct it if he could.

Calming her down was the first step. He made the rest of the way across the room to stand before her. She held his gaze, but shrunk away from his physical presence. Not much, but it was noticeable. Again he hesitated, unsure how to proceed. The usual logic regarding women didn’t seem to apply here; this was something more.

“Okay,” he said slowly, reassuringly. He had to take some of the burden from her shoulders. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re...” Not upset. That may set her off worse, although he couldn’t see how this could get worse. “...troubled.” That seemed mild enough.

Katrie still maintained that wild-eyed stare even as she tried to collect herself. He could see the effort that took openly on her face. Normally she was hiding behind suggestive smiles. Not this time.

If I ever upset you, or hurt you, or... or make you mad, know that it's not what I ever want to do.

Those words burned like an icy brand against her soul. She sucked in a breath involuntarily, her eyes trying to look nowhere and everywhere at once. “Rav...” She almost couldn’t get his name out. He was so close. Too close. She had no right to be here. And yet she couldn’t make herself leave. Light.

“Yes?” he answered carefully.

Katrie felt another freezing rush of shame. This was all her fault… with Dax, with the bond… with the jagged pieces of glass scraping together inside of her head… Why had she come here again? Rav shouldn’t have to deal with her, or her mess - but she stood there, feet rooted to the spot. Stupid stupid girl, she heard her papa’s voice whisper and there wasn’t any way she could deny it.

“Do you remember… in the study room? When I told you that upsetting you… or hurting you… or making you mad… were things that I never wanted to do?”

The pause was significant. “I do.”

Dark eyes closed, and it was difficult to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat. She couldn’t speak around it and forced herself to look at him again. Several agonizing heartbeats passed before she could form words again. “I did something very very bad,” she repeated, “and… I’m sorry.” That came out the barest of whispers, and she felt something inside of her break apart.

There was a fraction of a second where she could feel the phantom pain of her papa’s palm striking her cheek. Never apologize. Stupid stupid girl. Attachments were weakness, and she was so very very weak. Half truths… she knew she could word it just so, just enough so that she would never be caught in an outright lie. She could tell Rav part of the truth… and spare herself further agony. It was the right thing to do. Katrie could hear her papa’s voice, so very clearly in her ear, whispered poison. And yet… she wavered. If that was true, why did thinking about it make her feel even worse?

She hesitated, wide dark eyes looking into the unblemished blue-grey depths that still fascinated her so much. The Cairhienin Accepted crumpled inwardly at the realization. Katrie sucked in another breath, for courage maybe. And then, in a flood of terrible, brutal truth, she told Rav everything. Dax. Their numerous encounters. The bond. How she couldn’t undo it. And finally, how much she regretted it, though she didn’t think part that mattered much anymore, to either man.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, shaking her head frantically. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Dakson Torellion. It didn't make sense. Little of it made sense. How did she know how to bond him? What under the Light had convinced her that any of it was a good idea? She was an Accepted. And Dakson Torellion? He may be Dakson Gaidin now, but that didn’t excuse either of them. Both of them should have known better, even Katrie!

No, that wasn’t the issue, not the biggest by half. What about them? Maybe he recalled their encounter in that classroom differently from her. There had been kissing and, well, even if they hadn’t been betrothed... A growl rose from the back of his throat. These thoughts weren’t getting him anywhere.

He began to pace back and forth between his bed and the far wall. Moving helped, even with a glimpse of a white dress in his peripheral vision. At some point he reached for his sword-breaker. It remained sheathed - he certainly had no thoughts on using it - but holding the hilt quelled his anger slightly.

Finally he rounded on her, the sword-breaker held across his body. Wide eyes greeted his, yet Rav noted it was not fear that held them open. His own eyes was ice blue fire. When he spoke, it was with the sound of steel grinding along stone. She had heard him like that once before. “What do you intend to do about it?”

It took everything she had left not to flinch away from Rav’s harsh tone. Katrie clung on to her frayed composure by thin, unraveling ends. He had every right to be upset, more than that - livid! But the actuality of it was far worse than anything she could have imagined. To have that directed at her…

She remembered it from their first meeting in the Library, after their encounter with a then Accepted Mirin. The pretty Cairhienin and the Shienaran had been fighting over his key… a misunderstanding that had ended in an upbraiding by Mirin that had somehow started the strange beginnings of a friendship between herself and Rav. Maybe more? But she had ruined it… Light, she had ruined everything.

This… She shook her head slightly. A simple misunderstanding, this was not. She had no idea what she was going to do, or how even to begin approaching the matter. The knot in her head that was Dax felt like hundreds of hot needles pushing through her skull.

She looked between Rav and the brown leather sheathe of the sword he was holding, her mind repeating his question in a deafening chorus. She had asked herself the very same question, over and over again, since she had fled from Dax’s room. Her hands ached with the Tairen’s pain and it was unnerving.

Katrie hesitated again before answering, and as before, she felt the overwhelming urge to lie, the temptation of falling back into old ingrained habits pulling at her with long, white fingers. And yet again, the mere idea of doing so made her feel worse than she already did. She pushed it all aside, her voice soft as she answered Rav as truthfully as she could.

“I don’t know… I…” she inhaled sharply. “I need to figure out what I did wrong and then dissolve that bond. I don’t want it and neither does he.” She didn’t know if Rav would believe her, but she really couldn’t blame him. “I want to find - I will find a way to prove that I really am sorry for hurting you.”

There had been a long pause before her answer came. He wasn’t naturally suspicious, but when it came to prospective Aes Sedai and Cairhienin, it was wise not to be unguarded. Both of them played Daes Dae’mar, the Game of Houses. As a Cairhienin, she had undoubtedly been trained in deception since birth. As a Domani, no doubt she knew how to wrap men around her fingers. A little part of him, a sliver really, wanted to believe she was being honest. The whole story seemed incredulous.

He turned away, and began to pace again, slowly. The story was incredulous. If she wanted to fool him... Fool me how? Why regale him with this dramatic account of events if it was all a fabrication? Surrounded by bloody Aes Sedai and flaming Cairhienin. No, the frantic look of torment on her face had to be genuine. Did it? Light, he was going mad.

Rav placed the sword-breaker back onto his desk, and gripped the back of his chair. He didn’t want to look at her any more, although he could no longer say whether that was from anger or disgust. Burn duty. He didn’t actually owe her anything.

“Rav, I really am-” she started, but he cut her off with a snarl. The boards creaked under Katrie’s feet. He glanced down at his knuckles, white from the effort not to throw the chair at her.

Slowly, a thought came together. One that didn’t entail violence, at least not immediately. He raised his head, glaring out through the window into the evening’s inky blackness. “Tell me,” his voice was still hard steel, “do you love him?”

That question shocked her out of her stupor. It was the very last thing she had expected to come out of Rav’s mouth.

“What?” Katrie felt as if someone had dropped her into a vat of boiling oil. Anger, improperly directed, flared to life. She felt it undulate over her, wreathing and seething along the surface of her skin. It fed her outrage and she let both wash through her, her spine snapping straight. “Light, no!” She forgot that she had been afraid, so very afraid, of looking at Rav’s face mere moments ago and glowered at him instead now.

Light blind her, what kind of question was that?

She made a rude gesture with her hand towards him, voice heated and utterly horrified. “Why would you even ask that?” She shook her head vehemently, frothing emotion strangling her. “No I don’t love Dakson bloody Torellion! I want him out of my head!”

She had no more words, no further ability to properly express her desperate frustration and had to spin around to face the wall. Slender fingers raked through unkempt hair, clawing through knots and tangles alike. Her body shook from the effort it took to keep herself from flying apart, the effect static as it raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck. Almond shaped eyes were bottomless pits of sable fire. “You don’t believe me.” That came out… badly, the challenge clear, but she didn’t know how else to say it. “I’ll swear it on anything you want me to.”

He could hear that she was facing the wall now, so he allowed himself to look back. She looked and sounded utterly distraught. That sliver of hope didn’t seem quite as immaterial now. Especially with those words added into it. “I’ll swear it on anything you want me to.” A very dangerous thing to say. Katrie knew about his sense of duty, if not about Shienaran morals in general. Very dangerous, unless she intended to break them.

His hands still gripped the chair, although he no longer wished to throw it at her back. The wall could take it better. He allowed himself a slight grin, but only just.

Rav could already feel the heat in his stomach abating. That question had been at the crux of everything, he realised. He could conceivably forgive a large number of transgressions, but not that. Never that. If she gave a hint of a sign that she was lying, he would... He didn’t know what he would do. Ironically, violence was not his way. But if Katrie - no, Aikaterine - if Aikaterine did anything that pointed towards a deceit, he would be done with her.

He looked over his other shoulder, at the wall above his bed. Mounted on a hook was the Tower-forged longsword he had received after becoming Ji’alantin. A beautiful blade, as much a weapon as an object of admiration. He stepped across the room to retrieve it, sliding the sword out of its scabbard. He rested it horizontally, left arm holding it at stomach-height, with it laying across the back of his right hand. “Come,” he demanded of the Accepted. “Swear on this. And by the Light, make me believe.” He could still summon that tone of steel and glare of fire, at least for this.

She would forever remember that sound, that whisper soft sound of steel leaving leather. It rang in her ears, curiously stilling the out of control rampage of thoughts and emotions in her head. She drew her first easy breath since she had made the mistake of bonding Dax, Katrie feeling calmer than she had in days.

There was no hesitation, no conflict. She did as Rav said, crossing the room over to him with long, even strides. Her head canted to the side ever-so-slightly as she regarded the wrapped hilt. Dark eyes were still as she lifted her hand and placed it where the Shienaran indicated. She felt her chest rise and fall, the pain around her heart tolerable, the needles in her head muted.

The Cairhienin Accepted let her gaze linger against blue-grey, her voice steady and clear. “I swear on the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, that I do not love Dakson Torellion, Gaidin of the Grey Tower, or may the Creator’s face turn from me forever and darkness consume my soul.”

Rav had tried several times to interrupt her, but she kept speaking right on top of him. She wasn’t sure what he was doing… he had wanted an oath, hadn’t he? Oh. Or maybe the oath she had chosen wasn’t good enough? Katrie frowned. She didn’t know that many, but there was another one she could try. Was there one from Shinear he wanted?

Cold ears. That thought skittered aimlessly for a moment before crashing against her skull, shattering into pieces of silence. She took a breath to continue with another attempt, an oath that Rav would like better, but he interrupted yet again.

“Katrie -”

The barest thread of irritation flashed through her, then was gone as abruptly as it had come. “What?” She finally asked, a furrow appearing between her brows as the scent of warmth tickled at her nose. “I know that wasn’t good enough.” Her heart gave a strange lurch and she could feel it sinking down into the pit of her stomach. She squared her shoulders a little and her chin lifted imperceptibly. “Tell me what else I need to do. And I’ll do it.”