The Grey Tower

A man with dark hair and the build of a warrior sat in a corner of the dim room. He looked as if he'd been slumped in his chair a while, his hands palm up on the table in front of him, inches from his lowered face. The man in question couldn't remember how or when he arrived, or how much ale he had consumed since he found his seat. He couldn't have even named the tavern he sat in; each looked very much like the last, only fragments remaining in his blurred mind of prior visits.

Dax could still feel her. Despite it all, no matter how much he drank, he could feel her. She lived in his head, waking or sleeping, a bundle of emotions that reminded him with every twist and shift of the horrifying mistake he had made. Sometimes she seemed almost happy, other times he thought her tears would rip his soul in two. He could not trust his own thoughts to make sense when the tears began, and had long since given up. In this moment he found savage delight in her sorrow, his lips twisted into a semblance of a grin as he stared down at his hands. She recognized his anger; he felt the shock, and then redoubled grief. You did this, he told her silently. Cry, kitten, you did this to yourself. You did this to me.

Shadows twisted at the edge of his vision, dark tendrils beckoning him to the emptiness he so desperately desired. Before they could reach him, a hand grabbed his shoulder, and something cold and wet was upended over his head. ”I don't care what you are, you've had enough,” the man who had denied him escape said. “Up. Now.”

Dax stared up at the man, contemplating how hard it would be to knock that complacent smile off his narrow face so he could go back to his fixation on the unwanted presence in his mind. If he pushed at it hard enough, would she cry more, or less? He shoved the table away and rose with every intention of doing damage, fingers flexing in anticipation. When he drew his arm back, another hand grabbed it, this one much larger. That one pulled him off balance, shoving him bodily into the wall. “You are angry and far too drunk,” the very large owner of the hand told him. “I don't want to hurt you.” Dax swore at him, and tried to jerk free. The stranger’s fist simply tightened on his wrist until he felt bone grate on bone, the pain piercing through the fog in his mind. “Leave,” the man said again.

A few minutes later, he found himself alone outside. In the darkness Katrie abruptly jumped back into focus, his awareness wrapping in and out of hers like a living thing. He remembered the first time that had happened, how her fingers had traced his face in wonder after. For a single moment there had been something in his life he had never imagined, a glory that took his breath away….and it had dashed him to pieces in its wake. His anger dissipated, and he sank to the ground with his back against the wall, his head dropping to his knees as the Cairhienin Accepted’s despair washed over him in debilitating waves.

A droplet of salt and moisture rolled slowly down her cheek. Regret. A second one, slipped down the other cheek. Guilt. A third followed, Self-loathing. And a fourth, flowed down freely from red-rimmed, aching sable eyes. Rage. Katrie felt it scald through her, slender body quaking from the terrible intensity of it. Her teeth chattered and clacked against one another, her breathing shallow and uneven. She let her fury run unchecked and felt phantom tongues of ice and heat lick at her skin.

The knot of seething spines that was Dax surged inside her skull, the Tairen reacting poorly. He spat poison and venom through the bond, Katrie feeling her chest tighten. The corners of her mouth ticked upwards. She made no move to push him away, embracing his presence instead. She felt Dax hesitate then, a thread of wariness registering. Too late, peacock. Wrapped so tightly together with her, there was no way to tell where she began and where he ended. She felt her lips pull away from her teeth, and then shoved all of what she felt at him. If he delighted so much in her suffering, she would make sure that Dax felt it all. Every. Single. Bit. of it. He recoiled from her, and there was a disjointed jolt inside her mind as they became two separate entities again. She could not deny the vicious satisfaction that bubbled up in her gut, churning like acid and despised herself even as she exulted in it.

More tears fell, but she didn't have the presence of mind to grant them any more names.

A choked sob shattered the stillness of her room, and it took several moments before the Cairhienin Accepted realized that it had originated from her. Of course it had. There was no one else here. The single lamp that she had kept lit offered a meager amount of flickering light, barely illuminating the area around where she sat. Even now... she felt him... Light, she still felt him. No matter what she did... he was inextricably woven into her very sense of self. It was Dax's feeling of betrayal... that cut her the deepest, she realized. She had betrayed him. I didn't mean to! came the useless protest, but Katrie quickly tried to stamp that out. She wasn't fast enough. Dark eyes closed and she let herself sag back into her chair.

He trusted you. And you betrayed him. The voice was... soft, a faint whisper that caressed the very boundaries of the bond.

“He said to do it,” she whispered back.

And you told him you could undo it.

“I thought I could...”

The stillness in the room became unbearable. Why does it matter? the voice finally asked, the silence shattered like a rock thrown through glass. It was her papa's voice, Katrie realized with a sickening jerk. It pressed in against her, and reflexively, she felt herself cringe away, a hand lifting to touch a damp cheek that stung and prickled with memory. Why did it matter what she had or hadn't done to Dakson Torellion? Stupid stupid girl.

There came a strange sensation in her mind, almost like... the mental equivalent of a finger prodding into her side. Dax. Even though she made no outward acknowledgment of it, she knew he could feel that she was aware of it. The question that had no answer crumbled to dust, her papa's voice disintegrating along with it. It was Katrie who pulled away this time, the Accepted neither willing or able to endure the idea of what she had done to the blue-eyed Gaidin any longer. Her eyes slid open reluctantly and she stared dully at the ceiling. Hate me. Why don't you hate me? But the Tairen didn't answer her. The flow of her tears shifted, gradually soaking the hair at her temples.

The Tairen stood with one shoulder against the doorframe of the Master of Training’s office, one leg crossed over the other and arms folded across his chest. The dark-skinned man inside had summoned him and Dax had no choice but to obey, but that did not mean he would completely surrender to that authority. "You can pretend to respect me Dakson, or you can just come on in, but you do be needing to listen to what I have to say.”

Dax’s eyebrows rose, but he straightened and stepped into the room. He was not a small man, and Ferran could break him like a twig; thankfully, the chances of the man actually trying were quite small. “I’m no Drin’far’ji or Ji’alantin,” Dax said, “I have things I’m doing here, and zero interest in helping a flutter-brained Yellow take care of a head cold.”

Ferran had been leaning over his desk examining a chart of some sort; now he looked up, dark eyes chilly. “Do no be speaking of the Aes Sedai in such a manner,” he said in a warning tone. “As one of the Gaidin, you do have the duty to protect them.”

“Blood and bloody ashes, I am not a servant!” Dax snapped, the anger that had been building inside him as he and Ferran talked finally rushing to the top. “Betrys flaming Sedai is going to Tear to help with a few sniffly noses, not facing the bloody Forsaken!” His head ached; he could feel Katrie’s attention, and that simply served to peel the layers of control away faster.

“Listen boy, you be doing as you're commanded, or I march your hind over to Riahana, and she do be repeating my words in a less friendly manner. Maybe you do have two Sisters to tend over.” Dax cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing, then gave the older man a perfunctory bow. If he stayed, he would have more problems than an Aes Sedai on his hands. “Do be closing the door on the way out, boy.”

The Tairen barely heard the word over the sound of the door slamming back into its frame with the full force of his Gaidin-trained body. I am not a servant! His fist slammed into the stone, and he felt bone shift, grinding together in ways it should not. You do not own me! Despite his rage, he knew that in truth, they did. He felt his emotions shifting, rolling, growing, and realized that Katrie’s presence had grown. They magnified each other, until he could bear no more.

He fled to collect the things he would need.
* * * * The Gateway opened, revealing a slope that fell sharply to the south toward the green and blue spotted delta that marked the end of the River Erinin. A sprawling city nestled against one side of the river, utterly unremarkable save for the enormous globe that rose over its northern end. Tear, he thought first, then Light I hate this place.

That bundle of emotions he could not ignore had settled a bit, although the Accepted still seemed ill at ease and uncomfortable. Discomfort he could handle far better than anger or fear that rebounded and conflicted off his own. Her muted emotions had carried him through his first meeting with Betrys, and now he was able to nod calmly as the Yellow was formally placed in his charge. He wanted to scream, anger still bubbling very low in his head, and yet he simply smiled and led the Aes Sedai through the hole in the air. They paused on the other side while Betrys remounted. Then she lifted her hand and the door closed.

Katrie vanished.

Dax stumbled, nearly falling to his knees as the shock of her absence hit him. He forced himself back to his feet as he struggled to regain his equilibrium. Betrys was looking at him expectantly, her pleasant face politely curious; he had no idea what he would say if she asked for an explanation. A few ragged breaths later he realized that he could still feel the woman who had been his lover, but her presence had dwindled to a vague shadow of what he had grown accustomed to. He knew somehow, without having to check, that she was somewhere in the distant northwest….and that was all.

The Tairen turned to his horse, hiding his face as he took a deep breath, and then another, struggling to understand the feeling coursing through his body. I’m free....for a little while. The thought should have filled him with glee. However, as the two made for the road all he could feel was the emptiness in his mind where she had been.

Her skull exploded into jagged splinters, the part of her mind that Dax occupied fraying completely apart. Blistering rage peeled away at her sanity and she was caught completely unprepared. For a terrifying, incandescent moment, the Accepted and the Gaidin were one and the same. Almond shaped sable eyes clouded with fury. Katrie's mouth opened but no sound emerged, her throat so completely paralyzed by the Tairen's sudden madness that it stole her voice completely away. A film of red dropped over her in a haze, her own chest constricting with absolute misery. Her head pounded with pain, her stomach roiled angrily, and burn her everything around her was far too bright. It was nauseating just to stand and...

Her hand spasmed uncontrollably, pain radiating out from her knuckles and fingers, twisting up her wrist for a moment before shooting upwards. The Cairhienin Accepted dropped the giant wooden spoon she had been holding as her arm simply went numb. It clattered noisily against the side of the gargantuan pot of soup, before gracefully flipping end over end, the wet plop of noise the only indication that the kitchen implement had fallen into tonight's dinner.

He's punched another wall... Flaming Light, peacock.

That thought, her own, was enough to return her to her senses, Dax's pain also bringing clarity with it. Her mind separated from his, and she blinked several times to clear her vision. What in the Light...? She stretched out tentatively towards him and it was only then that the crazed Gaidin became aware of her. He pushed her questioning touch aside, the threat of further violence searing through the bond stifled quickly, but too late. Katrie winced, her face falling and contorting for a fraction of a second. Dax may as well have thrown that wall he had hit at her. She cursed silently, smoothing out her expression even as she stared down in dismay at the bubbling soup.

She wanted to scream. It took everything she had not to cradle her uninjured hand against her body, her own knuckles and fingers aching, throbbing and suffering along with Dax's. He acted as if he didn't noticed the pain anymore. Katrie forced herself to swallow and tried to collect her thoughts. Given what had happened between them... maybe he really didn't... As suddenly as Dax's heat had come, something... cold... took its place. Numbness. That... was almost worse than the feeling of betrayal.

The Cairhienin Accepted resolutely kept her tears in check, refusing to cry into the soup as she did her best to fish out the giant spoon she had dropped. Her ears burned with embarrassment at the upbraiding that ensued, but it helped keep her mind – and worry though she refused to admit that – off of the black-haired Gaidin. A mild flare of... something, curiosity?... came but that failed to find purchase through the bond. She had just about earned herself back into the kitchen's good graces when her awareness of him went flat and abruptly, the bond grew quiet.

Dark eyes grew wide and she began to tremble beneath the... unnatural stillness that echoed loudly in her head. The nausea that rolled over her this time was hers, and hers alone. Katrie simply dropped everything she was holding and ran out into the hallway, emptying her stomach onto the tiled floor, hands that no longer ached splayed against the wall for support.

“Accepted Aikaterine...?”

The very last thing she had expected was the sound of her name, spoken in formal, stilted tones. Slowly, she straightened, hands dropping down to her sides as she breathed in shallowly through her nose. She didn't know what to do, now that the presence that had been so completely intermeshed with hers... was barely discernible. Not gone. But for all intents and purposes, it might as well have been. Katrie refused to so much as think his name...

It took several long moments, but she was finally certain that she would not embarrass herself again. She turned to look at the source of the new voice, her eyes finding blinding white... and with it, possibly the tallest person she had ever seen. She felt as if her neck was craned as far back as it would go, and she herself, was not a short woman.

“I am well, Novice...?” the Cairhienin responded as well as she could. “Your name?”

“Sinead.”

“Thank you for your concern, Novice Sinead, but it is unnecessary. Return to your chores.” Her voice was far more clipped than normal, Katrie feeling ridiculously on edge. Light, what was wrong with her? The curtsey came and she nodded in acknowledgment of it. She waited agonizing seconds for the Novice to leave, and when she was alone again, slumped back against the wall. The thought came too late of having Sinead clean up the mess... but it was not long before Katrie found another white-clad initiate to set to work.

The gateway that brought Dax back to the Tower had also erased any possibility that he might continue to pursue Betrys as his awareness of Katrie returned. He had taken his leave of the Yellow with a courtly bow, a promise to come see her soon, and the full intention of never crossing paths with her again. In the evening that followed he had proceeded to drown himself in alcohol, welcoming the familiar numbing shroud with a grim smile.

The next day he worked himself into the ground, desperate for anything to distract him from his consideration of the Cairhienin woman’s emotions. In the afternoon he realized she shared his desperation, her feelings flitting wildly from frustration to sadness to vengeful irritation. He struggled to ignore her, cursing under his breath as his mind continued to wrap itself around her despite his best efforts.

Shortly after dinner he felt a surge of something entirely new: interest. A type of interest he was himself more than familiar with- the kind he had spent his time in Tear focusing on Betrys. His sword lay across his lap, and he turned his attention to sharpening it, the rhythmic grinding of the whetstone on steel distracting him, if only just, from the feelings growing inside the bundle that was Katrie. Someone had caught her eye, provided the kind of diversion that Dax wanted for himself. That feeling grew and intensified, tinged with streaks of delight, and a rush of impulsive glee.

He could imagine her face in that moment, eyes dancing and mouth open as she laughed. She had done so with him on several occasions, her laughter filling the air. The memory brought with it an unexpected stab of pain, and his breath hissed as he struggled to maintain control. He sat back, rubbing his face with his hands, and tried again to turn his thoughts away. What Katrie did with her time didn’t matter to him, other than the unfortunate effect it had on his ability to think. Why should it? He shook his head, reached for the mug on the table nearby, and took a drink.

Time passed far too slowly that evening. He did everything in his power to stay occupied, to keep his hands and thoughts busy, but inevitably he felt her in his mind. Katrie eventually went to Hama Valon with the one who had caught her eye. Was this the same man who had caused that golden warmth before Dax’s trip with Betrys? For some reason, that brought another stab of hurt, and Dax buried his head in his hands. It has to stop, he thought, but he knew it would not. His escape would come only on the wings of unconsciousness, and even then some trace of his torment would follow into his dreams.

The unwelcome feelings spiraled upward, the Tairen Warder a captive witness to his bondmate’s activities. His throat burned and stomach twisted from the liquor he poured in to drown what he felt, but the fire in his head pulsed hotter. Eventually Katrie fell into the quiet of sleep, and Dax lay silent, staring blankly at the ceiling, the world swimming, diving, and distorting around him as the remnants of her passion wreaked havoc on his body.

Katrie flashed a bright smile that didn't touch her almond shaped dark eyes, the slender Accepted murmuring out the appropriate words of apology as she slipped between two sets of burly men unloading heavy boxes from a wide cart. She ducked to her left immediately afterwards, squeezing into the bustle of people, allowing herself to be swallowed up by the mass of milling humanity. She took a deep breath, for all intents and purposes appearing as if she was in a frazzled rush. The blazing white and banded colours at hem and cuff would have to go however. The drunken jumble that was Dax seemed very far away at this particular moment, Katrie unable to spare more than a passing thought to the Tairen’s perpetual drunken state.

It was… strange… having him back so loudly inside of her mind. She hated his violent bludgeoning rage as much as she had the muted near silence… but found that she couldn’t choose between which of the two she found preferable. The horror of being left practically alone inside of her own head had not diminished; the horror of having the Gaidin once again blaring across her sense of self just as unpleasant. The Cairhienin Accepted shook her head at herself. Her thoughts were running in circles. Useless.

The clarity inside her skull felt sharp and piercing, and she floated in a strange place between alertness and fear. She counted slowly to ten, her heels striking the ground harder than she intended. A too casual glance over her shoulder showed her that it wasn't just her imagination: the stranger in the grey striped green cloak was indeed following her. Why? She couldn't say... she had noticed him only by the way her back prickled... Her lips curled upwards. A lifetime of hostile attention within her papa's ancestral home had taught her early on what unfriendly eyes felt like. Maybe House Riatin had been good for something after all.

There was no time for her to linger on old past hurts. Katrie adjusted her stride and began shifting towards the center of the river of people, a nonchalant toss of her hair and a dazzling smile garnering her the attention she wanted. As heads turned to follow in her wake, she pretended not to notice, faking blissful obliviousness. So long as people were watching her, she was relatively certain that Green Stripes would only continue to follow. Her mind flared with questions... questions that she had no answers for. She glanced up uneasily at the horizon. What happened when the streets of Hama Valon settled in for the evening? Go back, her mind whispered, back to the orphanage. She lengthened her stride and tried to ignore the way her stomach turned slowly.
* * * * The sun had set sooner than she had anticipated. She had forgotten that the city was situated on the side of a bloody mountain and that the winter months made for even shorter than usual days. Katrie clutched the pilfered -borrowed- cloak closer around her, hoping it hid the most obvious of the pristine white of her dress and hopped off the road, cutting through several private properties before emerging beneath a widening pool of lamplight on a street that ran parallel to the main road that lead straight back up to the Tower. She knew that the distance was not that far, but it seemed to stretch out into eternity ahead of her. The prickle between her shoulders was still there. Her feet drummed loudly against the cobblestones, and for a moment she was paralyzed by indecision. Do I double back, go around, or just run? She hissed in frustration, precious seconds wasting away as she grappled with making her choice. The streets of Cairhien were laid out in a simple, straightforward grid. The streets of Hama Valon, sadly, were not.

Echoing footsteps came from behind her and she lurched into motion, throwing herself back the way she had come, her eyes scanning for the telltale little bird ornament that hung from a pretty flower bush outside of a shop closed for the night. When she found it, she took the path that branched off to the right. Another right, and then another, and she would be back on the main road. And then straight back to the Tower. Dax's awareness grew stronger as he pushed against her mind, annoyance trickling through the bond. Emotions that were not her own assaulted her, but she bore the brunt of them and turned away without replying in kind. Her throat felt dry and the muscles in legs were beginning to burn. How long had she been running?

She hurried through the final turn, dropping all pretenses as she looked around wildly, hope surging painfully inside her chest. The only thing she heard was her breathing, harsh and loud to her own ears. Katrie spun quickly on her heel, dark eyes scanning the area around her carefully. Nothing out of place... no green striped cloak... no itch between her shoulderblades. She felt the tension drain out of her, the line of her shoulders relaxing. She didn't wish to linger though, and turned back to face the fixed point that the Tower provided. She felt a little thread of guilt... she'd have to return the cloak tomorrow with proper recompense.

Five steps down the street, and her entire world simply exploded.

The ground exchanged places with the sky and she found herself dazed and on her back, the right side of her face throbbing. Pain eventually registered, but it felt… distant. Black spots danced before her eyes and she couldn't breathe, something rough and heavy settling down to sit on her chest. Katrie's hands lashed out, finding that it was a boot... attached to a thick leg that rested so very casually against her sternum. She shoved at it, thrashing against the ground, but everything ended in a choked cry and more dancing black spots as the boot pressed inexorably down. Her eyes bulged and she felt her body arch.

“Keep doing that and I'll snap you.” The voice was gravelly, and... sibilant. “Unpleasant, I imagine.” A face appeared over her, distorted and blurry. “You're not the only one that can steal a cloak.”

All she could was whimper, the air hissing between her teeth as a hand reached down and clamped around her throat while another tried to cover her mouth. The boot was removed and she sucked in air nosily through rough fingers. She glared up at the bleary face, her body feeling cold. The man was still talking, but she was having difficulty focusing. A familiar sound came and she latched onto it... Torellion. She blinked, stretching out instinctively towards the awareness that shared her mind. What about the Tairen?

The hand over her mouth clenched down and she forced her head up against the downward pressure, finding a soft spot for her teeth to fix around. Katrie bit down as hard as she could. The yell of surprise was so very satisfying, but the way her head snapped back as an open palm connected with her face... she couldn't finish the thought, reeling and dizzy.

She was burning suddenly, every single nerve ending flaring to life. Katrie gasped as bolts of lightning sizzled through her skull, smashing through her body, setting the very roots of her hair on fire. She screamed...? Or maybe it was the storm that wrecked through her mind. Abruptly, she was free... the blurry face disappearing from her field of vision. Gradually, she recognized that the storm was not hers… blazing blue eyes… black hair… the stink of stale sweat and ale. Oddly enough, beneath it all… hints of mint and lemon… Recognition surged forward.

Dax…

The Tairen’s body hurt, and exhaustion dragged at him with every move. He had lost fights before, had taken beatings that would have leveled a lesser man, and had been able to continue without too much discomfort. However...even with the physical benefits that came with being bonded, the slow build up of injuries over the last few weeks coupled with lack of sleep and too much alcohol had done its own damage. On top of that, however, there was an entirely new layer of pain. He had in no way expected the sheer fury that Ravak Darrow had unleashed on him, and had paid the price of his disbelief with his body. Had they not been separated after the Shienaran disarmed him, the younger man might have killed him.

Would it have been so bad if he had? The thought startled him; he lifted his head to stare blearily across the common room while he considered the answer. His life had been an endless stream of misfortune and bad decisions, and yet he had never stopped fighting to continue living it. He had always felt that eventually, something would change. A new horizon would appear, something that made it all worthwhile. Perhaps it was time to acknowledge that that would never happen. If I’m dead the Warder Counsel can’t send me to the Citadel. His head sank back to his hands, the world wobbling unpleasantly as he closed his eyes. Perhaps it was time to give up, indeed.

Katrie’s feelings rose to the surface in that moment of quiet. I am you and you are me… it was drunken nonsense and he knew it. He hadn’t laid eyes on the Accepted since that fateful night in his room; their status as separate entities could not be denied and yet they would never be separate again. Unsettled by his own thoughts, Dax allowed her essence to unravel gradually, spreading through his awareness like water in a sponge. Her feelings expanded so slowly, intensified so smoothly, that it took him a while to realize that what he felt was not the normal fare.

Panic. Desperation. Terror. He could feel her running, her location shifting too fast for walking. Now what’s the girl done? He struggled to tuck her away again, but the urgency in her feelings tugged at him, demanding his attention. Finally he dug in his pocket, slapped a coin on the table, and left, muttering a curse at all brown-eyed women as he did. He walked out the door and down the street, still muttering, struggling to shove those growing feelings away. Not my problem. Go away, kitten. Of course she didn’t listen.

Suddenly pain, true pain, exploded over the bond, followed by several moments of...nothing. He stopped short, shoulders back and head up, feeling along the bond for any sign of the Accepted. What had happened? The sudden absence of feeling was more shocking than anything he had yet experienced, and he bit hard into his lip as he struggled to understand. Had she Traveled elsewhere? Had she released him? His stomach turned. Abruptly she returned. He felt the faintest tug, as if she reached for him without realizing it, and then the pain redoubled, mingled with terror and shock.

When had he started running? His feet carried him blindly through the streets, that jagged mess inside his head acting as a compass to direct him where he needed to go. Another explosion of pain caused him to lurch mid-step, but he scrambled back to his feet a moment later. As he ran, he rubbed his face where he knew Katrie had taken a blow. Who would dare attack one of the Accepted? He rounded a final corner and saw a figure in white on the ground, a man kneeling nearly on top of her. He saw the stranger’s hand fly, felt the fist that struck the woman as if it smashed against his own face. Through it all, Katrie’s panic boiled and churned, and his own madness wound with it, demanding release.

The stranger turned to look at Dax, and the Tairen paused. He knew that man. Why-? There was no time to ask questions, only to act. Rolan’s body hit the wall with a sickening crunch, and Dax followed, his hands clamped around the other man’s throat and his knee driving into his gut.

Some time later -it might have been moments, it might have been longer- Dax knelt with one knee crushing Rolan’s chest, the other pinning the larger man's arm to the ground. He wrapped one hand in the Murandian's hair and smashed his head backwards into the cobblestone… Again, again, and again. It vaguely occurred to the Tairen that the target of his ire had ceased to struggle, but it seemed an irrelevant detail against the rage-distorted backdrop of his mind. His fist connected with the man's jaw and he felt bone crack and a spray of liquid on his face.

The Gaidin let Rolan drop to the ground, and pushed himself to his feet slowly. He stood with bleeding fists clenched at his sides, chin tucked against his chest, mind still lost in the fight. He could not keep his breath even, his chest rising and falling at ragged intervals as he struggled for control. He knew Katrie had scrambled out of the way, could feel the horror roiling within her. He realized her feelings were not entirely Rolan’s doing, and surprised himself with a thread of guilt. She caused this,Jemis’ voice reminded him, and he shoved the thought away as roughly as he had the feeling. No.

The faint scent of lilacs crept through the air around him and he started to shake, memories crashing around him unbidden. Her mouth pressed against his neck as they struggled to stay silent in the gardens, her hair wrapped around him in sweaty tendrils after passion had faded one night in Hama Valon...Her fingers on his face after he came back from the Blight, each touch pushing his demons further away. Moment after moment, a tumbled mess of memories he could make no sense of. He wanted- wanted- he dared not finish that thought, even in his head.

He had kept her from being hurt, he owed her nothing further. Had he owed her even that much? His mind insisted he had interfered only to save himself the agony of experiencing her assault himself, but a part of him knew there had been more to it. Walk, he ordered himself. Save yourself and walk away.

“Dax.”

He closed his eyes as she whispered his name, unable to stop the hollow ache of desire and hurt that pressed around him at the sound of her voice. He hated her, didn’t he? She had ruined him, invaded his mind and stolen his freedom forever… And yet…He wanted to bury his hands in her hair, lose himself in her kiss, and claim again the peace he had found with his head against her chest. He wanted- his fingers flexed as he struggled with himself, curling and uncurling against his thighs.

Something new rose in that part of his mind that now belonged to her, and he remembered too late that she could feel his conflict as strongly as he could feel her fear. He had grown used to shame, anger, and self-loathing; this new feeling took his breath away. Remorse. He forced himself to look at her, bloodshot blue eyes smouldering under lowered brows as they stared at each other across the dimly lit street. A distant part of his mind chittered angrily, but a mountain could have moved more easily than he.

“Make it better, Dax.” The whispered words echoed between them, and he could feel her anguished uncertainty echoing his own, as if every word had been forcefully ripped from within her. With it came a flood of emotions; more remorse, and also relief, guilt...hope?...something warm and soft quickly hidden that he did not understand. Time stood still for a long moment; he felt as if he was burning slowly, crumbling to ash locked in her gaze.

Walk away, his mind warned him quietly.

Dax didn’t remember crossing the space between them, but somehow he had hoisted the slender Accepted against his body and held her in place with one arm around her waist and her back pressed against the wall she had been standing near. He cupped her cheek with a hand that palpably shook, his battered fingers insistent as he pushed her face up to look at him. Red rimmed her brown eyes, and a slow trickle of crimson blood dripped from her lip down her chin. She finally met his eyes, and his breath stopped for a moment as their shared awareness spiked into exhilaration and desire. His arm pulled her tight against him, his fingers curled, and their mouths met with desperate force. No gentleness there; she owed him a debt and he gave no quarter as he claimed it from her lips.

The inferno inside him threatened to eradicate the sun, her need and his reflecting off each other in an expanding kaleidoscope of passion. Better? Was that what that feeling was called? In that moment the Wheel could have shattered and the Dark One walked the world unchecked; Dakson Torellion would have neither noticed nor cared.

Her mind was swimming in euphoric stillness, her emotions flowing and ebbing in gentle waves, flowing towards the awareness she shared, twining together with his, ebbing away to separate from him, retreating back into her own sense of self. Dax leaned heavily into her, his arm slung over her shoulder as they limped their way towards the fixed beacon against the horizon that was the Grey Tower. Their bond was as bruised and as battered as he was, bloodied beyond recognition in some places, but... it didn't matter. Not to her. And not to him.

He came. He saved me.

That moment... What had happened afterwards... Everything had changed. Nothing was as she expected, but she couldn't force herself to make any sense of it. Katrie shook her head slightly, adjusting her hold around his waist. She felt an unprecedented sense of clarity even as the disjointed bubble of Dax's exhaustion wrapped around her. It confused her, dulling her own awareness. She didn't fight it however, unwilling and unable to push him away.

“Don't you pass out on me, peacock,” she whispered. “I can't carry you.” Moving her lips hurt. In all actuality, there wasn't a place on her that didn't hurt, but she still retained enough presence of mind to realize that most of it originated from Dax. A thread of amusement and annoyance trickled through the bond. Almost there... we're almost there...

Their arrival at the Grey Tower proper was as spectacular as it was dramatic, once she had told the guards at the gates what had happened. I was assaulted. This Gaidin saved me. No, I don't know what happened to my assailant afterwards. After that, they practically fell over themselves to help. Katrie was pleased, though her hands released Dax with great reluctance, and only because she herself was being ushered along with him into the Infirmary. A few sidelong glances were directed at the strange phenomenon of bloodied handprints against the white skirts of her banded dress, but she pretended she didn't notice and the guards were too polite to ask outright.

She couldn't remember what exactly happened next. It was blinding and it smelled of disinfectant and... cleanser. The Infirmary. Katrie sneezed. She was gently pushed down onto a bed. She felt the phantom sensation of fingers against her head as a glow so bright it hurt her tired eyes surrounded the ageless woman that had come to stand next to the Tairen. The feeling of being doused in ice cold water shocked her wide awake, Dax's gasp echoing loudly. Then it was her turn, the Cairhienin Accepted trying to wave the Aes Sedai away. The other woman did not brook for her “foolishness” however, and a second dousing in ice cold water came. This time, it was Katrie that gasped, her spine jerking straight.

As the world returned to warmth, intense weariness rolled over her and buried her. It was the only thing that registered now that there was not an avalanche of pain pressing down against their bond, exhaustion dragging down at her limbs, clouding her senses, muffling her ability to function. She met Dax's gaze from across the space that separated them, finding that blue eyes were already watching her. She offered him a little genuine smile, brown orbs soft, and though his expression did not change, she felt his mind wrap around hers.

Katrie did not remember closing her eyes, nor did she remember falling asleep. But when she sat up abruptly, night had become day. Blearily, she looked to the spot she had last seen the Tairen. He was not there. Still trying to shake her thoughts clear of the last tendrils of sleep, she reached out for him... and found that the part of her mind that belonged to Dax had faded with untold distance.