The Grey Tower

Miahala Ives Sedai Miahala was in a meeting when she felt it, and it nearly killed her.

She had not liked Sojin going out on a potentially dangerous excursion without her, but he was Gaidin and she was the Amyrlin Seat. It was bound to happen, and she was forced into a state of even greater understanding (if still displeased) by the fact that it was a matter of family. For she was a woman who knew all too well about blood, and those ties that bind. She had grudgingly accepted it, and seen him off, and gone about her day.

When the sense of adrenaline coursing through his body ignited her nerves, she choked it down. Its acrid taste fell on her tongue as she tried to listen to the two Greys speaking to her. When the first arrow struck, however, her heart almost stopped. The arrow did not need to pierce her own body for the effect to be the same. Her body tensed. I can't lose him already... I can't lose another one... Her blue-green eyes tightened as she looked between the Aes Sedai and Asha'man.

"I'm sorry," she said, a touch hoarsely. "I must cut this meeting short." She did not explain further, because she was the Amyrlin. She owed no explanation to anyone, and she could not give it not anyway.

Their eyes broke their serenity as they widened, but they said nothing. Both stood hastily and bowed their heads as she also rose and made her way from her office. Her Keeper looked at her with equal uncertainty, but also said nothing as she just ushered the two of the Grey Ajah clear of the office and Miahala vanished.

She could feel him approaching. He was alive, but the bond was weakening. Someone was racing him back to the Grey Tower, as she could feel the nearness of the bond growing by the moment. Even in her distress, she was rational enough to know where they would be taking him so she did not bother rushing outside to meet him. She made for the infirmary, walking her long legs with swift steps. Not racing, per se, but no time was wasted.

Somehow, she reached the infirmary when Sojin had already been brought in. The storm that was the Amyrlin Seat was greeted by her great-grandson-in-law. The mountain of a man held up his hands. "He's alive," he assured her immediately.

"Not once I get a hold of him," she hissed, freer in Gareth's presence than she would be in another's.

Gareth revealed little, but his lips tilted up in a faint smile. "Thea is tending him now and I'm about to join her. He'll survive long enough for you to do as you see fit." With that, he turned and hurried into one of the private rooms. Miahala was tempted to follow, but she knew that she would just get in a way. Some of the Tower's best healers were at work.

So she remained, and waited...

Sebrina Calin Gaidar (PSC) “Get yer flaming hands off of me or ya’ll be learning how to channel without them,” Sebrina Calin nearly shouted as she was beset by a Dedicated upon entering the Infirmary. Light, but she hated this place almost as much as she did flaming royal courts.

The solid redhaired Gaidar, barely five-foot-two, was covered in blood, most of it not her own. A few cuts and an intermediate slash decorated her shoulders and arms, but they were nothing serious at the moment. Her fancloak blended into the austere Infirmary background, and she carried two swords her hands, instead of the wicked-looking staff she was so fond of wielding. The pair of long knives she usually wore, however, were still there at her side.

The Dedicated almost seemed insistent, but a stony look of her emerald eyes and the lad shut his mouth. “Point me in the direction of Sojin Majere and prepare to have a flaming Healer on hand because I’m going to flay him living.”

The Dedicated pointed toward a set of rooms, and an Aes Sedai waiting outside the private rooms. All the anger Sebrina felt suddenly went from boiling rage to a simmering anger mixed with sympathy.

She knew that woman from her backside alone, and knew that look. The Amyrlin Seat, Sojin Majere’s Aes Sedai. She seemed ... almost worried, if such a thing could be applied to Miahala Sedai.

Sebrina also knew she would have to wait in line before she could severely injure her former lover and liege lord. An Aes Sedai had first priority.

“Begging yer pardon, Revered Mother,” Sebrina murmured as she stepped beside the once and always Green Aes Sedai, “but I’ve come to offer my ... blooding flaming ashes, I’m going to maim him!”

Her face went scarlet for what she blurted out. “That man has all the sense of a flaming half-witted Trolloc in a blood frenzy,” she continued. And then she breathed before murmuring an apology.

She set the pair of swords — one a long and slender jian and the other a broadsword marked with a heron. “The First Seeker had these recovered and requested they were brought to the Infirmary ... said it wouldn’t do for a Warder to be without his weapons, injured or no.”

Sebrina frowned slightly and asked, “Before ya kill him, could ya give him my thanks?” Her emerald eyes danced as she looked at the heron marked broadsword. “He saved my life, and his niece’s when a Whitecloak ambushed us a few days ago. The bloody bastard was just there ... like a Grey Man when he knocked me out.”

Her face reddened again, this time in shame. There was another reason she was distracted while she was with Cassie.

“The next thing I know, I’m coming to and yer Warder was fighting like a demon against a man armed with a heron-marked sword. I’ve seen blademasters fight ... and that Whitecloak was definitely one of them. His head was chopped off in the end. Yer bloody fool is about to give it to the Mistress of Arms to find a proper wielder, or as a gift, or something like that.”

She smiled faintly, the image an eerie sight with her blood-covered face. “I doubt it was entirely for me he fought, Light alone knows it would be great to think, but it was for the Lady Majere,” she murmured. “He loves the girl like a daughter for whatever flaming reason, and she’s just like him, more so than that stiff brother of his. Light knows they kiss the same way ...”

The small Gaidar’s face reddened again. “Sorry, Revered Mother, too much information,” she murmured. “I thought you should just know, that if he threw himself into danger, it’s because for some flaming reason he’s both a fool and a good Warder, an even better commander.”

She turned to go, just as she saw the door open. But she stopped and hesitated. “That man intends to marry you, Mother,” Sebrina said. “He loves you.”

Her eyes grew more solemn and she added, “And you may want to rein in your First Seeker. He intends to return to Camden Corelle, raise four hundred men, and another thousand in the Caralain and march on Stag Hall and House Tyeon, where the Whitecloaks came from, and where Sojin’s brother and nephew are being held hostage.” Her emerald eyes were serious. “The man means to tear Stag Hall down, stone by stone, even if he has to declare war against Andor and Tar Valon in the process.”

Without another word, Sebrina left.
Sojin Majere Gaidin Sojin groaned as his eyes open, more so out of hunger than pain and exhaustion. He still felt the piercing pain of where the arrows had hit, along with the weight of a man in full mail land on top of him.

Granted, the pain was in his mind and not his body, but he was always one to remember most injuries. He was always one to remember most of everything.

So when his mind cleared, he immediately felt the flood of mixed emotions enter his mind, almost as if being ran over by a twelve-mule team pulling a load of bricks on a six wheel cart.

His eyes adjusted to the light and stark whiteness of the area, and he immediately looked to his right. He saw the source of the mixed emotions and he knew before a word could be spoken.

He, Sojin Majere Gaidin, was a dead man lying down.

“Cassie,” he croaked, the first thought to enter his mind upon forming a coherent thought. “She is safe?”

The still blurred image of what he assumed was his Aes Sedai nodded. He smiled and then immediately regretted it. He groaned again, this time in extreme hunger.

As much as it was appreciated, he hated flaming bloody Healers. Even with the Warder bond, he felt as weak as a kitten. And ravenous. And in his state, if his Aes Sedai discovered the fact that he might respect some part of his father’s Ebou Dari customs and Miahala had a knife, he might need another Healer soon.

“Next time I go to the Caralain, remind me to send a pigeon to the Tower asking for a flaming gateway to be opened,” he croaked. “Whitecloaks are a flaming pain and a lousy shot.”

It was a fortunate thing for the little Gaidar that this Amyrlin was not like those who had come before her. The former Green had not even been like other Aes Sedai through most of her decades, and so she did not mind the words that came tumbling from the woman's mouth. In fact, had she not been as emotional as she was about the state of her Gaidin, she might have been amused.

Many an interesting word dotted the Gaidar's talking, and she filed it all away for a better moment. Although what she said in parting stuck out a little stronger, or at least, more immediate.

Marry... The word bounced around in her brain for several long moments, weighted and with many an implication and wonder. This too was soon put aside, for there were more important things to focus on. Like making sure that Sojin lived, so she could kill him. The Gaidar would have to wait her turn.
* * * Some time later found Miahala sitting by her warder and lover's bedside. She'd had the Keeper reschedule her day because there was nowhere else she intended to be. The Tower better be falling down, again, before you call me away, were her exact words when the matter was settled just a little while ago. Now, she maintained her vigil.

The bond told her he was coming to before she saw the telltale signs of his body and heard his voice. Relief flooded her although none of it showed on her face. Although it was a little harder than it used to be. When she had relinquished the Oaths, the agelessness had fled her and now she looked to be a well-maintained and still-lovely woman somewhere in her forties. The hint of grey remained in her hair, but it was subtle.

She leaned forward and took his hand, nodding to assure him that the girl was safe before she kissed his knuckles. "You are lucky to be in such a weakened state, my love, lest I finish the job that the Whitecloaks began," she said, in a voice so low it might have been sultry, were it not for the thread of loving malice winding through it and the words themselves.

Sojin Majere Gaidin Sojin smiled faintly, attempting to quell the hunger in his stomach. As much as he felt the rivers of quiet fury in his Aes Sedai through the bond, he sensed the undercurrent of relief.

Granted, of course, the relief would vanish, and that fury might become more evident, but for now the silver-haired Gaidin would accept any type of relief.

“Do your worst, my love,” he teased, looking up at her. His vision had cleared, and he saw her face. Most might have remarked on the loss of the ageless look, but to Sojin, she appeared no different. He saw the woman beneath the mask, one of fury and passion and love, a mother and warrior, all mixed into one entity. “I am no easy meat for Aes Sedai, Asha’man or Warder official; just ask any one of them.”

He grasped his Aes Sedai’s hand and kissed it lightly before muttering jokingly, “If I ever bring up the idea of leading a cavalry unit again, please punch me in the face.”

As strange as it might seem, humor right now seemed the best form of levity. Past near-death situations that ended with him in the infirmary had gone horribly, horribly wrong when he was serious.

“At least tell me I got a flaming souvenir out of the entire affair,” he added. “A Whitecloak’s flaming cloak, a helm, something to say that I'm here and the flaming cur that shot me isn't.”

She favored him with a dry look. "Your souvenir is that you're not dead," she said. "Yet." Her eyes told the story, as they so often did.

Without another word, she rose and reluctantly released his hand. She moved to the door and opened it enough to speak with the nearby attendant to request some food and water be brought. After all, she did know the needs after extensive healing. Once that was arranged, she returned to his bedside and claimed his hand once more.

"You also are fortunate enough to have your own weapons returned, at the least," she added, resting her forehead against their clasped hands with a slow, heavy exhale. "I guess I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on you, if I wish to keep my wits about me. I quite nearly lost them when I felt that you were injured. I would kindly wish to avoid that happening again."

Mia was not a woman prone to showing weakness or vulnerability, but she was willing to with him. If only him.

Sojin weighed heavily on Miahala’s words in the brief time she was apart from him to call for food. While his body was ravenous, his mind was even more hungrier for knowledge and demands of what she meant.

Only, the silver-haired Warder knew full well what was said, and felt it flowing through the bond. There were pangs of guilt strong enough level nations to the ground for the pain and agnst he put Miahala through, but never once was there a wave of regret.

When she returned to his bedside and clasped his hands once more, he smiled softly.

And then she spoke and his guilt did shine through the bond. But not for the reasons she said. Sojin wasn’t known for keeping his tongue. His recent history with the Mistress of Arms was a private example, but his bond with Saphire Sedai might be a more prime example. Sojin had defied the current First Seeker over certain actions she had taken that placed Sojin at risk.

As he grew older, Sojin could understand his father’s position, but more so the actions the man took, often to extremes.

He kissed her head and murmured, “For whatever distress I caused you, my Aes Sedai, I apologize, but I cannot apologize for the actions I took.”

His sapphire eyes were earnest as he looked at Miahala.

“You are the Amyrlin Seat,” Sojin murmured. “Your Warder is expected to be on dangerous missions outside your normal purview. You must grow accustomed to that.”

When he saw that she lifted her head, Sojin was quick to respond. He kissed her lightly to silence any dissent.

“I love you, Miahala, and I am your Warder,” he whispered. “But I am Warder sworn to this Tower and if that means I must give my life for any of those sworn or promised to the Tower, I will not hesitate.”

He kissed her again. “I had a choice once, when I was young: stay with my wife and son, or ride out to engage the enemy. I chose duty over family and for that, they died when every bone in my body said not to obey. I’ll regret that to my dying day.”

Perhaps the one rare thing he shared with his Aes Sedai was honesty and vulnerability. And he was doing that just now.

“Cassandrya is family, Miahala,” he murmured. “Whatever those Whitecloaks were, they were willing to risk war with their brethren and Hama Valon to get her, and I was not prepared to allow to happen.”

His sapphire eyes looked into her blue-green gaze. “I lost a son because of a mistake. I didn’t want to lose my daughter.”

If Miahala knew one thing, it was duty. Duty to the Tower, and duty to family. She had given over a hundred years of her life in duty to the Tower, and had even given up the search for her own son so that she did not shirk it. Caden Ives had continued to look, while she bore the weight of these stones. In her service to the shadow, she had nearly let go her own life and that of her unborn child.

In truth, he did not need to tell her the things he did. She did know it, but it did not mean she would do so happily and see him slain when she was not there to protect him. Flaming Amyrlin Seat or not, she was Miahala.

She lifted her head and met his gaze, but if she had been about to comment on any of that, or about the bit of his past, or anything else... That stopped short. His last statement certainly caught her, and some of the Gaidar's words came back. Her face was impassive, but her gaze was shrewd. "Your daughter?" she asked. "I thought she was your niece?" No judgment or anger now, just keen interest.

Sojin weighed heavily on Miahala’s words in the brief time she was apart from him to call for food. While his body was ravenous, his mind was even more hungrier for knowledge and demands of what she meant.

Only, the silver-haired Warder knew full well what was said, and felt it flowing through the bond. There were pangs of guilt strong enough level nations to the ground for the pain and agnst he put Miahala through, but never once was there a wave of regret.

When she returned to his bedside and clasped his hands once more, he smiled softly.

And then she spoke and his guilt did shine through the bond. But not for the reasons she said. Sojin wasn’t known for keeping his tongue. His recent history with the Mistress of Arms was a private example, but his bond with Saphire Sedai might be a more prime example. Sojin had defied the current First Seeker over certain actions she had taken that placed Sojin at risk.

As he grew older, Sojin could understand his father’s position, but more so the actions the man took, often to extremes.

He kissed her head and murmured, “For whatever distress I caused you, my Aes Sedai, I apologize, but I cannot apologize for the actions I took.”

His sapphire eyes were earnest as he looked at Miahala.

“You are the Amyrlin Seat,” Sojin murmured. “Your Warder is expected to be on dangerous missions outside your normal purview. You must grow accustomed to that.”

When he saw that she lifted her head, Sojin was quick to respond. He kissed her lightly to silence any dissent.

“I love you, Miahala, and I am your Warder,” he whispered. “But I am Warder sworn to this Tower and if that means I must give my life for any of those sworn or promised to the Tower, I will not hesitate.”

He kissed her again. “I had a choice once, when I was young: stay with my wife and son, or ride out to engage the enemy. I chose duty over family and for that, they died when every bone in my body said not to obey. I’ll regret that to my dying day.”

Perhaps the one rare thing he shared with his Aes Sedai was honesty and vulnerability. And he was doing that just now.

“Cassandrya is family, Miahala,” he murmured. “Whatever those Whitecloaks were, they were willing to risk war with their brethren and Hama Valon to get her, and I was not prepared to allow to happen.”

His sapphire eyes looked into her blue-green gaze. “I lost a son because of a mistake. I didn’t want to lose my daughter.”


If Miahala knew one thing, it was duty. Duty to the Tower, and duty to family. She had given over a hundred years of her life in duty to the Tower, and had even given up the search for her own son so that she did not shirk it. Caden Ives had continued to look, while she bore the weight of these stones. In her service to the shadow, she had nearly let go her own life and that of her unborn child.

In truth, he did not need to tell her the things he did. She did know it, but it did not mean she would do so happily and see him slain when she was not there to protect him. Flaming Amyrlin Seat or not, she was Miahala.

She lifted her head and met his gaze, but if she had been about to comment on any of that, or about the bit of his past, or anything else... That stopped short. His last statement certainly caught her, and some of the Gaidar's words came back. Her face was impassive, but her gaze was shrewd. "Your daughter?" she asked. "I thought she was your niece?" No judgment or anger now, just keen interest.

Sojin studied Miahala’s face briefly for any hint of what might lay beneath her face, but he knew by now that it might be easier to catch a kitchen mouse with a raken than penetrate that mask.

Besides, if she were angry, he would have sensed it, and he would soon after be in need of the Yellow Ajah’s services again.

The silver-haired Gaidin smiled faintly and murmured, “The rest of the world knows her as Cassandrya Majere, trueborn daughter of Solin Majere of Tar Valon, and my niece. The same goes for her twin, Coren. And the world should continue to believe that, because a good man raised them as his own.”

His sapphire eyes grew distant for a brief moment, and he continued. “Seventeen years ago one winter, I was riding with the Band of the Red Hand, after I left the Tower to return to something simpler,” he murmured. “My company was encamped at an abandoned hold outside the village Tremonsien in northern Cairhien when the party of the Lady Liessa Tamodred came through on its way back to Tar Valon.”

He ignored the pangs in his stomach as he told the story. “I had known Solin had married, but had never set eyes on the woman he married. We shared a meal together, without her distilling any information and well, a few too many glasses of ale turned into a flaming day spent in her bed. In that day, a strong winter storm fell upon us, and we were trapped for near a month, so the affair continued.”

Sojin tilted his head and murmured, “She never informed me of her identity other than her name and family and that she was returning to Tar Valon. It wasn’t until a month went by that I received a message from a rider in the night informing me that Liessa was with child, and that it was signed with the name Majere, as well as the confession of who she really was.”

“Cassie and Coren were born eight months later, but it wouldn’t be for another five that I would visit because my brother still refused to speak with me over my decision to leave Tar Valon so many years ago,” Sojin murmured. “If he knows the truth, he doesn’t speak about it. But I would be honest with myself in admitting, even if I had known who Liessa was, things would have still progressed the way they did.”

His sapphire eyes returned to Miahala’s face and he murmured, “For as long as I can help it, Cassie will continue believing her father is Solin Majere, as will Coren. They adore him and he raised them well.”

Mia's own history--both romantic and genetic--were nothing to make her judge someone else. Still, it was...interesting to learn that Sojin's child would be in the Tower now. A child he couldn't, rather wouldn't, claim. She did not judge him for that either, but again...interesting. The mention of his having twins, however, brought memories bittersweet and fond to her mind of her own pair.

Descendants of those lines roamed these halls even now. Even if it was a drawing made of strangely connected points, there was something about the idea she liked. Something about it felt like...a sort of connection between them, added to what they had already found, though it was not something she gave voice to.

Before any reply on her part, there was a knock on the door. She chose to rise to open it and let in the Accepted bearing the tray of food. The girl's eyes widened at the sight of the Amyrlin and she curtseyed as best she could so laden down. Mia smiled slightly and waved her on her way, so the girl set it on the bedside table, mumbled something Mia didn't catch, and all but fled.

"I have such an effect on today's youth," she commented wryly as she shut the door and returned to his side, but giving him his hands so he could eat.

She took a long, thoughtful breath. "I will tell no one, of course," she said simply. "I appreciate your telling me, however. I have given more to you than I ever thought to give another, and I would not wish there to be such secrets between us. But I look forward to meeting your...niece." Her lips twitched in a faint smile. "And hope another Majere on the grounds shall not brings the walls tumbling down." Her eyes glittered.

“You always had an effect on the youth,” Sojin murmured, half-distracted by the smell of food, of diced ham, vegetables, bread and cheese. While his mouth didn’t water at the sight, his stomach’s rumbling betrayed his hunger, and the effect that Healing had on him.

However, he was polite enough to nod silently in thanks at Miahala’s words. He knew Miahala would never betray that secret, and if anyone attempted to pry such information from her, then Light help the poor bastards who tried, because the earth would swallow them whole.

“The only secrets I hold are those I have either forgotten or those I do not know about,” he murmured, holding her hand briefly. “Though you should probably know that my dear sister Bryn seems to linger on the edge the Dream. I thought it only random dreams because of the impact her death left, but the last two weeks on the road ... they’ve been more tangible.”

He released Miahala’s hand and murmured, “She and I are in agreement on one thing: You would very much like Cassandrya ... if she doesn’t do as I did with one Amyrlin Seat once upon a time. I questioned an en’Damier’s past decisions and ‘advised’ that she let her Green Aes Sedai daughter lead her own life.” That conversation had not ended well. “I fear she may be more stubborn than her grandfather in some respects, so it may be that the Tower will have to contend with another Walker.”

He speared a small potato and just before he bit into it he added, “Bryn also mentioned that things should be done and over with us as far as things stand. Her words I believe were, ‘Marry that woman, you flaming idiot, or you’ll not sleep a wink until you do.’” He cocked his head and murmured, “She and I were of agreement on that as well.” Then he chomped on the potato, chewed it a few times and swallowed, his sapphire eyes dancing mischievously the entire time.