The Grey Tower

Thumbs looped under his sword belt, Ravak stood inside of the Weaponry Hall. Sun shone through the huge hole that had been made in the side of the building, courtesy of one Zarius Iiro. Ravak didn't know exactly what had happened to or with the soldier, but if he never saw that Amadician's face again, it would be entirely too soon for his own liking. It was grossly unacceptable for such destruction to be brought to bear in the Warder Yards, but more than that... The red-haired Shienaran give a rueful shake of his head. He was retreading old ground once again, getting caught up in a mental loop of anger and worry.

A yelping at his feet drew his attention away from his thoughts. Snowflake sat between his boots, looking up at him with her tongue out. Rav bent down to retrieve the pup, cradling her close to his chest. With fur almost as white as driven snow, the husky's name had been a bit of a given. She was also the runt of the litter, much more of a pet than a working animal. She yelped again, licking at his face, pressing her cold nose against him. Ravak smiled even as he tried to calm Snowflake down. Maybe two faithful hounds was enough.

No longer being assaulted by cold or saliva, he moved to examine the damage. He had no practical experience of construction, but it was clear that part of the roof would have to be removed before repairs could start. It was going to cost a pretty penny, but more irritatingly, it would take some time. The open-air hall was barren aside from the rubble, the Shienaran and his puppy. The Armoury now held everything, in a place far too small to hold all of the equipment and weapons needed by the Yards and its Warders. At least the Warder Council had made arrangements for repairs to start shortly. And the Ogier may yet respond. He had never let met one of the builders, and he relished an opportunity to do so.

Stepping clear from the rubble and back into the Training Yard, Rav placed the husky on the ground. Snowflake immediately bounded off towards the fencing, where a well-dressed woman was making her way towards the Warder Hall. Rav reluctantly followed afterwards. It wasn't good to let Snowflake get too excitable.

The blonde-haired woman was giving the puppy a friendly rub by the time Rav made his way to her. She wasn't an Aes Sedai, she was far too young for that. But then, she was in a dress that was not appropriate for anyone not Aes Sedai. He frowned slightly as her blue eyes gazed up at his.

Grey-blue eyes scanned over her in inspection. She was too soft to be here for any reason that didn't involve Aes Sedai. "If you're looking to petition the Aes Sedai, you may wish to try there," he said, gesturing towards the looming eponymous grey tower. "Same goes if you're looking to become a novice. Or are you simply lost?" He glanced back at the ground. With a sharp whistle, Snowflake looked up expectantly, then bounded back under the fence and between the Master of Training's feet.

Thud.

Fiona unlaced her other boot and threw it, too, at the door, delighting in the obnoxiously loud noise it made. Then her hands scrambled for more objects, tossing them one by one. It turned into target practice in her mind, a mindless effort to get each object to hit a specific knot near the top of the door. Eventually everything she owned save for her bow and quiver had accumulated in a chaotic mess at the foot of the door that led out of the room she had shared with Sabine the night before. Left with nothing to distract her she sat still, struggling to come to terms with what had happened earlier that day.

She and Sabine had each come to Hama Valon with their own purpose. The Saldaean to seek for the Horn of Valere and Fiona with the secret dream of becoming Aes Sedai. They had each, in their own ironic way, been denied their dream. Sabine now wore white, and Fiona... the Andora threw herself back on her bed, staring up with blind eyes. She could not channel. The Mistress of Novices had been kind enough to humor her request for testing, but nothing could change the "no" that came from the Aes Sedai's mouth.

I will never be anything more than a pawn in the Great Game, she thought caustically. I may as well go home and marry Arlen Taravin before it is too late. Despite herself, she felt hot tears roll down her face and into her hair, her chest heaving as she struggled to control the sobs of frustration and disappointment that tore at her frame. She could not channel. She had lost her friend. Her friend had lost her freedom! Thanks to the Creator's odd sense of humor, every effort either of them had made until that point had been for naught.

No.

She stared at the ceiling through a blurry veil of tears, but inside her mind, an odd bubble of calm began to grow. No. There were other ways to make a difference. One had been offered to her mere hours before. The Grey Tower accepts women in our Yards, Mirin Sedai had said at the end of their interview, her eyes drifting to Fiona's bow. It is not the same as being able to channel, but our Gaidin do great things in their own right. Something to consider, child. The blonde girl had been too upset to give it much thought at the time, but now....

Pushing herself off the bed, Fiona walked to the corner and picked up her bow. It was simple, stout yew, and shorter than the average longbow to accommodate her height. Its shortened length also made it more difficult to string and draw, and most who saw her believed her incapable of doing either. Now she pulled the string from her pocket, and looped it over the top of the bow, pushing it past the knock, then flipped the wood, hooking the other loop over the nock at the bottom. She stepped between string and wood, braced the wood against her opposite leg, and bent it down until she could pull the top loop up to the nock. She turned to face the door, pulling the string back to her ear with the smooth economy of movement that only came with practice. I am stronger than I look.

Strong enough to be a Warder?

She paused, bow still pulled to her ear. She imagined her goals as the knot on the door, and her resolve as the bow that would drive the arrow of her existence into its center. Could she do it? I have never failed to reach a goal before. Thoughtfully, she hooked the wood around her leg and pulled the string free once more. She busied herself cleaning the mess she had made, then went down to the common room for her meal.

---

The Andoran took Sabine's possessions to the Grey Tower first. Mirin Sedai assured her that once the Saldaean had been raised they would be returned to her and with that Fiona had to be content. She shook her head and departed, asking the young man in gray at the massive front door where she might find the Master of Training. He bowed and pointed north. "He'll be near the Weaponry Hall unless I miss my guess," he said. "He has red hair- difficult to miss." She curtsied her thanks then lifted her chin, pushed her shoulders back, and set off down the indicated path.

Soon enough a large building separate from the Tower loomed before her. She glanced at it uncertainly, then asked a woman -also in gray- where she might find the weaponry hall. The woman had dark hair and a pleasant face; she waved for Fiona to follow her and set off. The Trakand hesitated a moment, then did as indicated, struggling to quell the sudden lurch in her stomach. That feeling only grew worse when they rounded the corner of the building and Fiona saw the clear signs of an explosion spread in every direction out from a ruined wall. A man in dark gray with blazing red hair stood near the hole holding something white that squirmed eagerly. As she watched, he bent and let it go, and it took off running. A puppy?

Her escort pointed, but Fiona didn't need the direction. "Thank you," she said breathlessly, then made her way toward the man. Ravak Darrow, she thought Mirin Sedai had said. The Master of Training. As she approached, the bundle of white fur he had been holding barreled toward her, tongue hanging out and tail waving. A puppy indeed. It ran circles around her, then rammed against the front of her skirts, yipping eagerly. Oddly comforted, the tiny woman squatted and greeted the tiny animal, tugging and pushing at it in the way dogs liked to play.

When she looked up, the man in gray stood on the opposite side of the fence, staring down at her with flat gray eyes. "If you're looking to petition the Aes Sedai, you may wish to try there," he said, waving toward the Tower. "Same goes if you're looking to become a novice. Or are you simply lost?" He whistled, and the puppy immediately disengaged from Fiona's hands, going to sit quietly at his feet.

"I am not lost," she said carefully, brushing her hands over her skirts to rid them of dog fur. "And I can't channel." Her lips twitched down. "I was actually looking for you.....Ravak Gaidin, right?" He nodded impatiently, but at least he looked at her again. "My name is Fiona.....Fiona Trakand." She suddenly felt extremely self conscious, and looked down, smoothing her skirts.

"What do you need, Lady Trakand?"

"I am not a lady!" She snapped, her voice rising in annoyance and her blue eyes flashing as she looked back up at him. A moment later she added in some consternation, "Very well. I am a Trakand, I suppose I am a lady. I don't want to be anymore." This is not going well. She gathered herself and stood, curtsying smoothly.

"I came to ask to join your training program," she said. "I wasn't told very much about how it works here, but I am good with a bow, and I learn fast and work hard at whatever I set my mind to. I know I am small, but...if you give me a chance I will not disappoint."

It was quite a big surprise when the short blonde introduced herself as a noble of an Andoran house, and looking for him to boot. By name. No-one from outside of the Tower sought him out by name, unless...

"I came to ask to join your training program." If Rav's eyebrows had independence, they may have migrated into his hairline. This girl wants to be a Drin? She was the picture of a young debutante, and as he had presumed, far more in keeping with being a novice than a Drin'far'ji. She couldn't have been much older than fifteen, although Rav recognised he was very bad with telling ages. Maybe she was younger?

If Elia was Fiona's age, he'd consider marching her back to Fal Dara before taking her on as a trainee. It was within his right to refuse, if he thought a candidate would actually break beyond something that Healing could mend. Some people were not suited for this life, and there was no point taking anyone on who wouldn't survive the Survival Test. Aptly named, he mused wryly.

Still...

Ravak murmured something that could be taken for agreement. "Well Fiona," he said with emphasis on her forename, "if you wish to join the Warder Yards, you can. But I have reservations." The Shienaran made sure to keep his tone neutral, although it did nothing to stop the look of umbrage that swiftly descended upon the noblewoman's visage.

He forestalled her with a raised hand. Some of the anger she was channelling was no doubt due to- Had he caught a look of disappointment on her face when she mentioned being unable to channel? Rav pressed on in that same level tone. "What makes you wish to join us? This is a hard life, and your title and name will not grant you any protections from that. Possibly the opposite." Letting the girl compose her reply, Rav scooped Snowflake up in his arms.

"Well Fiona, if you wish to join the Warder Yards, you can. But I have reservations." The Master of Training's tone could not have been more bland; the Andoran bristled, but he held his hand up, forestalling her. "What makes you wish to join us? This is a hard life, and your title and name will not grant you any protections from that. Possibly the opposite." Fiona crossed her arms as he crouched to retrieve the small dog. Her blue eyes turned inward as she considered a response to his inquiry.

"I do not expect my House to protect me," she said dryly, making a dismissive gesture with her left hand. "In fact, I am in agreement. I do not want rank or association to interfere with my ability to train, whether for better or for worse. If I am not treated the same, and have the same experience, as every other student, how can I possibly be expected to meet the same standards?" She wasn't certain, but she thought she saw something besides indifference in those gray eyes. Had she surprised him? "Also...I am quite certain my family would not approve of me rolling around in the dirt, as they would term it. In the interest of avoiding such a lecture, I assure you I would use my family name....most infrequently." She smiled slightly.

She settled back on her heels, dropping her pack on the ground next to her and giving the much larger man a very direct look. "I know I am small, but that does not make me less of a person," she said fiercely, her shoulders going back. "I cannot be Aes Sedai -because yes, I tried," she gave him a humorless smile, "but I can do just as much good here, with the knowledge I have." He made a noncommital noise, and she made a face.

"I want to train here because it would allow me to do something real and right with my life, and do so on my own terms," she said clearly. "I have spent eighteen years being little more than a decorative fixture in the corner of a drawing room, but I am not useless." Light, how she had hated those endless afternoons by the window, with Synthia droning away in her ear. "My parents did not approve of my studies, but they could hardly stop me when they spent so much time away. I learned to ride, dress wounds, treat illness, and track humans and animals. I learned to shoot this bow," she reached up to touch the wood strapped to her back with loving fingers, "because someone told me I was too weak to draw it. I proved them wrong." Her lips curved up at the memory of her father's surprise the first time she had buried an arrow in the target.

"I am willing to work as hard as I must to succeed here, Gaidin. You need only grant me the opportunity to prove it."

Ravak reacted to the speech with practiced indifference, as befitting the Master of Training, he thought ruefully. He wished he had Elia's way with people, to make them feeling comforted and accepted. It wasn't the first time the Shienaran had heard a disillusioned youth's story about a harsh upbringing or an escape from a less than desirable fate. But this girl surely deserved a kinder life, just considering her age alone. "Little more than a decorative fixture in the corner of a drawing room." Is that how nobles were? Possibly. The one noble he had previously got to known was also... Well, broken wasn't a word to describe a person, and yet it seemed apt. Despite himself, Rav focused on the knot of consciousness that was Kaia in his mind. Not that he was thinking of the Aes Sedai, but of her daughter...

He was getting away from himself. Snowflake wriggled in his arms, and he produced a short stick from behind his sword belt. Without playing too much mind, he began a playful tug of war between himself and the pup, instead directing his attention downwards. "Well, you sound better prepared for a life as a Drin'far'ji than most, Fiona. You have assuaged most of my earlier concerns." The look of defiance that lit up in the girl's blue eyes wasn't unexpected. I hope that spirit of yours does not break here.

"If you do join us, it will be many years before your training is complete. The furthest you are likely to see is the outer walls of Hama Valon, and you will not have the freedom to dress as you are." Rav directed the girl towards the other men and women in the Yards, in differing shades of grey aside from most of the Gaidin or Gaidar. The Master of Training was wearing a near-black uniform himself. "Even after your training is complete, you will be one of us, a part of the Grey Tower. Whether you bond or not, your primary duty will be in service of this place, not House Trakand." Grey-blue eyes watched Fiona closely. "How does all of that sit with you? Have I dissuaded you in any way?"

Fiona cocked her head to the side, one finger pressed against her cheek as she regarded the red-headed man who spoke to her. With his attention directed at the puppy, she was better able to examine him. To her surprise, she realized he was not all that much older than she. How did you become the Master of Training at the Grey Tower? She thought curiously, but kept the inquiry to herself. At another time, perhaps, she could ask such a question. For now the curiosity that had come to life in her gut would have to wait.

He spoke on, something about clothing -oh yes, uniforms. Like the Queen’s Guard, she thought- and also about the duty she would take as Gaidar. His eyes were on hers now, and she found it difficult to maintain eye contact. "How does all of that sit with you? Have I dissuaded you in any way?"

The Andoran’s hand crept over her shoulder, fine-boned fingers touching her bow, her eyes distant as she considered his question. “I have heard tales of channelers and their Warders, of the Grey Tower, and the White, since I was very young. I know that life as a warrior is not all glamor, but I am happy to work hard,” she said softly, “if the end result is worthy of the effort. I think this is.” She smiled, a flash of pearly white teeth, before curtsying to the degree she might have for a lieutenant in the Queen’s Guard.

He did not dismiss her when she rose, and she released a breath she had not realized she was holding. Instead, he gathered the pup into his arms and waved at her to follow him as he turned toward the massive building that marched along one side of the yards they had met in. “There is paperwork to sign,” he said when she asked where they were going. “My office is just this way.”

The walk went quickly, Fiona quickly becoming even more enamored of the dog that the Gaidin who led her carried so nonchalantly. Her curiosity finally got the better of her as they walked down a corridor in what he had called the Warder Hall. “What’s her name?” She asked. He turned to look at her, and she indicated the puppy. “Where did you get her? She’s beautiful.”

The Master of Training's mind was already working on the finer details of his latest Drin; where she should be barracked, whom she should be paired with, suitable teachers and mentors. Some odd notion of pairing this girl with Dax came to mind. Maybe because the two were so unalike. Also because Dakson was a continued surprise, and had somehow become one of Riahana's favourites. Whatever the reason, I'm happy to keep my nose out of it.

Rav turned his attention to the pup in his arms. "Her name is Snowflake, one of three Shienaran huskies I intend to train up. If this one ever stops being cute enough and starts to realise she's not a pet." Two wide glassy-blue orbs stared up at him dotingly, and Rav couldn't suppress a grin emerging. "I've a feeling she may never cease being cute. Are you a fan of animals, Fiona? Maybe you can help train them, or the next litter I bring down from the Citadel." At the girl's curious look, he elaborated on the Citadel, and its purpose. That explanation got them up to his office door. He placed Snowflake down, produced a nondescript key from his pocket and unlocked the door. The pup scrambled in as soon as the gap was wide enough to get through.

The Master of Training's office was brightly lit through two massive stained glass windows that flanked the broad fireplace. There was still light and a crackling coming from the hearth, although a wire fireguard prevented any sparks from flying. Another door opened up to his private study, and the door was ajar for a wonder. Snowflake bounded towards and through into the study, two more yelping noises joining in with her own. Daishar and Tai'shar had received proper names, and were far more obedient than their sister. Rav made his way around his angular desk, seemingly disorganised piles of paperwork set upon it, and dropped into his tall, leather-backed chair. There was no other chair in the room, and no more furnishings beyond his weapon rack and the half-filled bookshelves. The teapot and its stand, and the spare chair, were in his study at present.

Rav pulled open a drawer, and retrieved a blue-backed ledger. He thumbed through the pages until he found the latest entries, then took up his quill in preparation. "So, Lady Trakand." He ignored the look of defiant outrage that was building up. "Why did you come to the Grey Tower? I mean, the White Tower is more closely aligned with the nation of Andor, at least historically. And it has the added benefit that there are no male channellers; I know some people are still wary of men wielding the One Power. So why here?" The Shienaran wrote down her answer, and the other details he knew already, in an brisk angular hand. The result was something approaching illegibility, but it was mostly for his benefit and recollection.

"I see. Next question." Rav put the quill down - no need to worry about blotting or dripping with this pen - and turned all of his attention to Fiona. He did his best to soften his expression, although nothing could be done for how penetrating his look could be. "In time, if you apply yourself and work hard, you will become a Gaidar of the Grey Tower. One of the finest fighters or military leaders or tacticians in the world. What would you do with that power?" He let his words settle in for a moment, but then continued. "You mentioned that you want to do something real and right, on your own terms. That sounded like you would not be so keen on being bonded to a brother or sister of the Grey Tower. So what would you do instead?"

Fiona suppressed a surge of delighted surprise when the Gaidin mentioned training the puppy that wiggled and yelped in his arms. She had enjoyed spending time in the kennels, although her father had not allowed her to assist much in the training of their hounds. It seemed Ravak might be more amenable to such a pursuit. It didn't sound like a required part of her training, however; would she have time? She kept her tongue behind her lips, and simply nodded to show agreement.

The red haired man she followed had moved on, however, to speak of a place called the Citadel. It was in Shienar, it seemed, right on the Blightborder. She shivered, reaching up to touch her bow with shaking fingers. If I am to be Gaidin, I must face the Shadow someday, she thought. I can't be jumping at every mention of it! She spent the rest of the walk calming herself, until at last he opened the door into his office. Snowflake scrambled ahead of them, and Ravak made his way to the large leather chair behind his desk.

He had not provided a place for her to sit, she noticed, but she wasn't sure she would have been able to sit anyway. It would have been rude to do so, given he was Gaidin and would soon be in charge of her training. She clasped her hands in front of her waist and stood quietly while he rummaged, her eyes straying to the bookshelves and the piles of papers on his desk while she waited. Finally he looked up.

“So, Lady Trakand.” She stiffened. What good is it for me to keep my rank out of my training if you bring it back in? He asked her a question, however, and she tilted her head thoughtfully as she considered her response. “I have no more fear of male channelers than I do of female,” she said, answering his last inquiry first. “Being from Andor, and a noble, I have more access to news than the common folk of the world, and I know that they are safe….insofar as a channeler can be safe.” Her eyes crinkled. “I could not possibly care less about Andor’s connections with Tar Valon; their concerns are no longer mine. If my journey had taken me in that direction, I may have gone to be tested at the White Tower. In truth, however, I am grateful I came here...if for no other reason than because they accept women into their training yards and men into their channeling ranks. They do not seem to be so judgmental and set in their ways as the women of Tar Valon.”

He made a noise of acceptance, then moved on. “In time, if you apply yourself and work hard, you will become a Gaidar of the Grey Tower. One of the finest fighters or military leaders or tacticians in the world. What would you do with that power?" Gaidar? They calll women differently? She did not know what she thought of that. "You mentioned that you want to do something real and right, on your own terms. That sounded like you would not be so keen on being bonded to a brother or sister of the Grey Tower. So what would you do instead?"

The real concerns. Fiona’s feet shifted, and her fingers tightened around one another as she considered her response. “It is a little difficult to imagine having that kind of power,” she admitted, pink tinging her pale cheeks, “but if I had it, I would endeavor to do what is right and just. I admit I will need to study hard to determine what my definitions of “right” and “just” truly are and how they fit into the world,” she thought she saw a flicker of amusement cross the Gaidin’s face, “but I know I can succeed.”

She paused before she continued to the second question. ““I had assumed that as Gaidin -or Gaidar, as I guess I would be called- my first loyalty would be to my bondmate. Given that expectation, I thought I would need to find a man -or woman- who shared my views on the world. I would not want to find myself in a situation where my duty to my bondmate and my moral perspectives clashed. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I might not bond at all.”

The Andoran noblewoman shook her head with a rueful smile, and continued in a self-deprecating tone..“The main issue for me when I was deciding whether to come here today was not whether I would bond, but rather, what channeler in their right mind would entrust their safety to a woman who needs a ladder to reach tall shelves.”

The Shienaran made a raucous sound, a heartily laugh that only softened slightly at the askance look from Fiona. He placed a hand to his heart, and made an apologetic bow in his seat. "Please excuse me." He grinned as he got himself under control. "I can honestly say that height will not be a limiting factor in your potential as a Warder. Our finest archer is not much taller than you are, and she is a bonded Gaidar. Maybe we can look into that, once you on the books."

Rav opened a drawer, and pulled out a ledger with a blue dustcover. He opened it onto a blank page, tapped his quill into its matching inkwell, and began to write. "You have a sound idea when it comes to looking for a bondmate. There are eight Ajahs in the Grey Tower, eight grand philosophies that help to dictate the morals and actions which the Aes Sedai and Asha'man obey. If you decide to bond, and it is a choice, you may find that the focus of each Ajah will help you. For myself, I am Warder to a Red sister, and I find that our views align."

"It would still be a good idea to get to know the soldiers and the novices on a personal level, however. We have strict rules about any romantic entanglements in the Grey Tower, namely that it is forbidden." Rav glanced up from the ledger significantly. "We want to produce Aes Sedai and Gaidin, not foolish runaways that think young love is all." He looked back down at the page. "Somehow I don't think you're likely to fall into that camp."

Completing his own notes, Rav spun the book around and offered the quill to Fiona. "If you make your mark, then I can welcome you to the Grey Tower and the Warder Hall as a Drin'far'ji."

The small Andoran tilted her head thoughtfully as the Master of Training spoke. There were other women, some as small as she? And an archer? Fiona struggled to hide her excited curiosity, but had a feeling she did a poor job of it from the expression on the older man's face. She kept her mouth shut however. There would be time for inquiries later. After all, it is not as if I am going anywhere any time soon, she thought. Ravak spoke briefly of the Ajahs and once again, she lit up. With eight groups to choose from, and many within each, surely she would find one that suited her? That a Red had a bondmate at all perplexed her, however. Surely the Red Ajah did not bond? The question rose in her but she pushed it down. More questions for a later date.

When he mentioned romance, she did make a face, and a dismissive gesture with her hand. Romance? She had kissed and been kissed before, but had had no real interest in any that pursued her. She had yet to meet anyone who truly caught her eye, and even if she did, she would not allow it to get in the way of her training. "You have nothing to worry about there, Ravak Gaidin," she said, her tone of voice brooking no argument or misunderstanding. "I came here to escape a relationship, not start a new one."

She took the quill from him, examining it curiously. No ink on the nib, and although the feather seemed soft enough, when she touched it, she realized it was made of stone. "Curious," she commented, waggling it at him. Before he could comment, she set the nib to the paper, and signed her name without the usual intricate flourishes Synthia had taught her to include. Then she handed the quill back to the Gaidin.

"Drin'far'ji," she commented before she could stop herself. "That's a mouthful for a title." She clapped a hand over her face, flushing pink. "I meant no disrespect," she said hastily. "What do I need to do, now that I….belong here?"