The Grey Tower

The scent of fresh meat pies hung heavy in the air. The dining room was mostly void of people, but he knew that would soon change. Servants worked at a steady pace, setting plates and cutlery. The dinner bell would ring soon, and many would be treated to fresh meat pies. He recalled that he enjoyed venison pies in his youth.

His lips softly curved into displeasure, as his pen twisted and twirled. His hands felt stiff, and sore. He knew he had little time left to finish this letter, and send it to his former pupil. Aes Sedai and Asha'man of various Ajah's would come soon, and have their fill. Wel, at least those who came out to eat and be social.

He was sure many would remain in their offices and quarters, and enjoy their meals in private. He would have been amongst those, not all that long ago. He would have stayed in his office, and his lover would have urged him to eat until he had his fill. He missed the love of his life a great deal.

Thinking of people who spent time alone, he thought of a particular woman his lover had befriended. The First Inquisitor of the Red Ajah, a title that was far more fitting to the woman, then it ever would for any other. Carra was truly the first, at least withim the Grey Tower.

Thinking of the Keeper of the Chronicles, he hoped to see the woman come out and eat with those of other Ajah's. But the lone Red, he knew, had a tendency to eat privately. He did not blame her, the judgement from one's peers at times could feel quite overwhelming. If she chose to eat privately, he would not judge her for it. He himself would likely not dine this evening. With Jenna gone, he had no one to urge him to eat. He felt a void deep within, and felt little motivation to fill it.

With her gone, he himself simply felt the urge to be alone, and to simply drink his kaf. But that was an option the M'Hael could not have. He needed to be seen, needed to make an example for those who looked up to him, much as Amora once had done. He decided he would eat, though only a small slice.

He placed his pen back into the portable ink pot, and took another sip from the near empty cup of steaming kaf. The letter was nearly complete. Jenna would want it this way. The Fang had appearances to maintain.

Silas Malkom Under normal circumstances, Silas probably wouldn't have wandered into the dining hall. He would have eaten his food at home, or in his office, or his wife's office. Not to be antisocial, as it seemed most of his compatriots desired to be- he rather enjoyed others' company as a matter of fact. The issue here being that his favorite person to lunch with- his aforementioned wife, Illyria- was in no condition to lunch with anyone.

Channelers didn't seem to get morning sickness like other pregnant women, but that hadn't stopped Illyria from being thoroughly repulsed by the thought of eating, or doing much of anything else, for that matter. It was... complicated. What that meant for Silas was that he now had to find someone else to share a meal with in lieu of his currently-worn-down spouse.

As if she doesn't have enough complications, being Mistress of Novices- now we have a child on the way. To be fair, Silas wasn't overly concerned about Illyria's pregnancy- in fact, he was rather excited about being a father. But he also had to admit that it represented a significant complication in their day-to-day lives. At times, Silas even wondered if it was responsible of the two of them to be having a child. Not that they could do anything about it now, but... it was still a troubling thought.

He shook this away as he walked into the dining hall, rather awkwardly balancing a plate, carrying what food he'd managed to prepare before Illyria had complained. He looked around, then saw an unusual patron sitting in the hall- Riven Trimak, newly-raised M'Hael himself. Noting that no one else seemed to be around, Silas shrugged inwardly, and went over to the M'Hael's table.

"Hello there," he said with a smile, seating himself across from Trimak. "Rather empty this time of day, is it not?" He glanced down to the letter that his M'Hael was preparing. "Not to be rude, but I would think your office would be more conducive to preparing documents- is something the matter?"