The Grey Tower

Nearly two months had passed since Alric woke up on a desk in the back of the Lady of the Lake with a splitting headache. He hadn't seen the woman he'd spent that night with in as much time. He usually wasn't the type for one night stands, especially not with people he saw regularly. Affie however, had stopped coming to their reading sessions. The last time they spoke, she tried her best to convince him that she didn't regret the night they spent together, but why had she stopped coming to their lessons? Alric could only assume she was avoiding him. Had she changed her mind?

Whatever the truth was, Alric didn't have time to dwell on it. While he had more freedom as a Dedicated, he was expected to fill his time with self guided studies. Especially because his block prevented him from regularly teaching Channeling. All in all, he didn't exactly have time to worry about matters of the heart. If Affie had moved on so could he. He'd almost put the solemn little Drin out of his thoughts when he ran into her in the oddest of places.


“Yeah, that's right,” Alric grumbles as he stalked through the halls, “An Accepted gets sick, and who do they make fill in? The bloody Dedicated with the block.” In his estimation, Novices could supervise themselves when they did chores. They were adults. He'd lead men into battle the same age as most Novices. Did they really need help mopping a corridor? Orders were orders though.

When he arrived, he was pleased to see that the Novices were already scrubbing on hands and knees. He wouldn't have to have to pull rank. One of the Novices scrubbing caused him to do a double take. He would recognize that nimbus of black curls anywhere.

Crouching next to the scrubbing Novice, he asked, “Um Affie, what are you doing in a Novice dress?” He didn't add that he'd enjoyed looking at her in the dress. No, he was beyond that.

Scrub. Wash. Mend. Fold. Lessons. Reading. Writing. Etiquette. Politics. Even a lesson on how to speak ‘properly’... pronouns were very important now that she wasn’t a Drin anymore. Hadn’t even started touching the Power yet.

Affie scowled into the grey sudsy water in the bucket by her knee. Had had perfectly good lessons with Alric. Didn’t know why she needed to go to entirely new classes to learn the same things that he had taught her already. Boring too. No one read to her, no stories about peas, or mattresses, or princes, knights, and princesses... no delicious house made up of things to eat with bugs stuck in the icing... no picnics either. Why didn’t they let her see him? Didn’t make sense!

Maybe it might make more sense to her if her stomach wasn’t trying to snap her spine in half. The Altaran gave it an absent pat as it gurgled loudly. So much learning and cleaning and reading! And then after all that, was only allowed to eat three times a day! How’d they expect her to focus? Couldn’t! She couldn’t!

Sometimes, the cooks and kitchen help snuck her extra food... they remembered her as a Drin, but not often. The small Novice sighed and sloshed the brush around in the water, then scowled again as she smacked sopping wet bristles onto the tiled floor. Didn’t like scrubbing. Didn’t like all these chores. Least Aes Sedai could do was feed her properly. Dark eyes narrowed and she sighed again before scrubbing listlessly.

Footsteps sounded near her, but she didn’t look up. Why? Didn’t need to see the Accepted standing and staring. Affie kept her head down and mashed the brush harder against the floor. Bristles scraped furiously against the tile, a little thread of satisfaction coming at the sound. Something... moved next to her.

“Um Affie, what are you doing in a Novice dress?”

The brush slipped from her fingers.

“Alric!” she squeaked, trying to get up. Oh... oh, he was here. He was here. Hadn’t seen him for two months... more... less? Flustered, she somehow managed to twist her arms and legs together and ended up on her backside next to the puddle of water. She looked up at him helplessly, dark eyes wide. What was she doing in a Novice dress...? What was she doing?

“Am a Novice now,” she told him miserably, voice low. “Can be taught to channel. But the Aes Sedai won’t let me come to our lessons. Won’t let me leave the Tower. Won’t even let me eat more than three times a day!” Scandalized, Affie gave the bucket a little kick with her foot, the hem of pristine white skirts catching against the sole of the slipper and lifting several inches above her ankle.

“Don’t like it,” she said plaintively, her chin lifting. She kicked at the brush next, sending it skittering a ways down the hall. “Don’t like it!”

“I guess, congratulations are in order,” Alric said in an unsure tone. What was the proper thing to say in this situation? Congratulations didn't seem to be right, she hadn’t actually done anything. It was akin to congratulating somebody for having red hair. People said “congratulations” to the strangest thing. Like congratulating a pregnancy. It was just a biological function. You didn't congratulate a fellow simply for having a fun night. The woman at least has to carry the child to term. Still, “congratulations” didn't seem right. His eyebrows climbed as something dawned on him. No, he would have heard rumors. It had only been two months though, maybe she was hiding it. He let out a calming breath, before his heart rate could spike.

Putting on a casual air, Alric stood glancing around at the other Novices. “Novice Afanen, come with me,” he said in a voice loud enough for the other to hear, “We need to find more cleaning supplies.” At that, he took off, thoughts racing. Affie could channel. She didn't seem to enjoy her new life, which was a shame, but she wasn't avoiding him. Light, she couldn’t be pregnant. Well, she could be, but it wouldn't be a good thing for either of them. He tried to remember the name of a certain tea, if she would even be willing to drink it.

Dark eyes peered out in momentary confusion after the departing Dedicated. Had plenty of cleaning supplies. Had kicked the brush a little down the hall and the bucket of water was just starting to show a little bit of grey and dirt but that didn’t mean... Affie sucked in a small breath, the Novice straightening as understanding dawned on her. Her stomach gave a pointed gurgle. The unhappy look affixed to her face was completely unfeigned as she hastily scrambled to her feet. She was so hungry. The small Altaran patted at her empty belly forlornly as she hurried after, yanking grumpily at the white skirts.

Thankfully they didn’t go far, several strategic turns and corners giving them relative privacy as she ducked into what looked to be a storage room. Affie couldn’t help but grin a little as her eyes adjusted to the dim light; she had hidden in some place like this with Nate. She had hit someone attacking him with a candlestick. She missed those pastries. Wondered how the fuzzy rabbit was doing anyway... hadn’t seen him or any trace of his clothes in months.

Oh the thought of food, any food, didn’t help. Her stomach made another high pitched whine. She resolutely tried once again to ignore it. Her expression was solemn as she glanced around. This room was different. Sharp and acrid... not musty at all, and full of cleaning smells. Her nose itched and the scent of sanitizer and mint and citrus made her stomach turn.

Any silly lingering hope that Alric had brought food with him disappeared as the door shut behind her. Had Alric. But had no food! Didn’t even have any stories! Affie deflated, suddenly feeling lightheaded, her eyes watering as she wobbled around to look up at him uncertainly. A hand lifted to clap over her mouth.

“Should... probably move your feet and boots. Think I’m going to be sick...” she managed to mumble out through tight lips and splayed fingers, leaning back against the wall as much as she dared to.

He couldn’t be sure in gloom but she did seem unsteady. There wasn't even enough space for him to draw his sword and create a light to see her face by. Worrying thoughts began intruding again. Morning sickness? She couldn't be. Well she could, but it was so damn inconvenient. He wasn't ready for this neither of them were. He'd be out of the Tower on his ear and they would send her packing as soon they could safely.

No, Alric, think. Be logical. Maybe this is the case, maybe not. Either way, don't jump to conclusions or panic.

He was trying not to, but this was a very real possibility. He'd pulled her aside to figure out what exactly they wanted going forward, but this was a pressing issue. Letting out a steadying breath, he asked, “How are you feeling?” Putting a steadying hand on the little woman's shoulder he continued, “Have you been feeling nauseous or having strange cravings?” Part of he was afraid of what he'd here, but had been raised not to fear knowledge. He just needed to find somebody who could Delve Affie and who could be trusted to keep their mouth shut.

She peered up through the gloom at where she thought Alric’s face was. Hand on shoulder was warm. Could feel it through Novice dress. Scarred fingers curled against the wall she was leaning against. Affie frowned a little, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered the Dedicated’s question.

“Feel a little better,” the small Altaran answered earnestly. “And strange cravings? Like what? Don’t want dirt or coins. Knew someone once in Murandy that chewed on them. Ate dirt too. That was strange. Avoided her after. Am hungry all the time but for normal food, not anything strange. Not allowed to eat as often as Drin do. Can’t go to kitchens and ask for food,” she told him grumpily, “so hungry all the time.” That was repeated with added emphasis.

“Not really nauseous until came in here.” Affie rubbed at her nose. “Musty and smells funny. Reminded of that one time was with Nate and went to hide in closet with pastries and cheese but got caught and he got attacked and had to hit the angry Dedicated attacking Nate with a candlestick. Wonder what happened to him...” Her voice trailed off and the sudden realization that maybe it was Alric that was sick dawned on her.

Dark eyes blinked. “Why? Feeling sick too?” She pushed herself up onto her toes and squinted up at Alric, lifting her hand to place against the side of his cheek. Not quite his forehead, but close enough. Didn’t feel feverish. Was worried though? “Not going to get caught. Don't see any candlesticks anywhere, but won't have to hit someone with the broom. Hopefully,” the slight Novice amended. “Something funny in closet, maybe? If feeling sick, need to find a banana for Healing. Nate said so.”

“What you and Scruffs, I mean Nate, get up to in closets is between the two of you,” Alric said, amused grin hidden in the darkness. “One of these days though, you'll have to tell me how and why you knocked out a Dedicated.” That seemed like an interesting story. She probably avoided punishment because the guy didn't want to admit he'd been bested by a girl who couldn't be more than ninety pounds soaking wet.

He gently took her hand in his removing it from his face. Gently kissing her crooked knuckle, he decided to just be upfront about things. “Maybe I'm overreacting, but I'm worried you might..” he stumbled over the words. “Might be pregnant. I hope not though. I like you a lot,” he said stroking her cheek with his other hand, “If you are pregnant and the full ranks find out, they'll keep us apart. I have a friend, he owes me a favor. He'll delve you for me. Don't worry me he knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

“We've been here for far longer than it takes to gather cleaning supplies, we should head back soon. But first…” He leaned in and kissed her. The pang of regret as he pulled away should have been expected, but it still stung. “Finish your chores and meet me after dinner, behind the infirmary. We'll talk to my friend there ok?” Alric gave the little novice one more quick kiss before peeking out of the closet to make sure the coast was clear.

“Pregnant!”

The exclamation echoed and rebounded in the small space, crashing over the small Novice in waves of sound and light. Forgot what else she was going to say... story about Nate and banana maybe... but not now! What... couldn’t... wait! Affie made to grab at Alric’s sleeve, but he had already slipped outside. Too slow. She stared at the empty doorway, the whites of her eyes completely visible. No... no nononono... couldn’t be. Could? Wanted to slam the door shut and hide.

But didn’t. Couldn’t. Was a Novice now. Someone would find her, then would get penance.

The places along her skin where Alric’s lips had touched tingled, and she pulled in a shaky breath. Didn’t regret that night. Was a good night. Scarred hands went to press over her stomach without conscious thought. Affie glanced down at herself, pulling her palms away as she realized what she was doing. Why? Hadn’t meant to do that. Hadn’t thought to. Dark eyes were solemn, her look critical, bottom lip mashing against teeth. She gave her belly a cautious prod, then poked at it again. Didn’t feel pregnant.

Wasn’t going to start craving strange things now? Made more sense why Alric had asked. Didn’t really want to start eating dirt or coins. Didn’t really want to be pregnant either! Dinner seemed twice as far off. The slight Altaran huffed noisily. Wasn’t going to be able to think about cleaning and chores and channeling now!

Cleaning... She groaned. Had come inside, “looking” for more cleaning supplies. Couldn’t go back out empty handed. A quick search yielded a broom, several rags, and a strange cone shaped... stick. For what? Didn’t care. It was orange though. Doubted it actually tasted like one. Her sigh was completely unfeigned as she stalked out of the storage room, holding the items out in front of her at arm’s length as if they smelled funny. They did.

----

Behind the Infirmary. After dinner. Was here. But... her dinner or Alric’s dinner? Was different? Had never seen him at the same time in the dining area.

Affie had no idea how she had made it through the day; she couldn’t remember anything about it after leaving the storage room. Maybe was for the best. Had wrote something at some point... white dress was spotted with ink. Grease and soot... from the kitchens. Cleaning, not eating. She carefully peered out off the alcove she was currently not-hiding-but-hiding-in, scanning up and down the hall for any sign of Alric. No sign. She sighed and ducked back, absently poking at her stomach again.

A painfully boring afternoon turned into a downright tedious evening. The various makework tasks he’d been assigned left him plenty of room to think. That was the last thing he needed. His logical side was quick to point out that there wasn’t anything to be done, and that once Garhald delved Affie they would at least know the truth and be able to make informed plans. He was downright antsy by the time it was time to meet Affie.

He found her lurking in some alcove miserably poking at her stomach. He felt a pang of guilt. This was his fault. If she was pregnant it was his fault. If she wasn’t, then she’d spent the entire day suffering for his own doubts. “This way,” Alric said, momentarily guiding with a hand on her elbow. As they walked, he drew his sword long enough to seize the Source long enough to make the grease and grime run down her dress, leaving it pristine.

Exiting the Tower, they walked until they reached the back entrance. A lanky dedicated lounged on the stoop smoking a pipe. “What can I do ya for, Alric?” Garhald asked with an airy wave.

Alric sat on the stoop next to him, more than a little aware of the pungent odor coming from his friends pipe. “I need you to delve my friend here, no questions asked,” he said in business like tones.

“Alric, you sly dog,” he said, proffering the pipe, “You did help me with that thing with the bees so… why not.”

Alric sat back, taking a draw on the pipe, while Garhald stood. Brushing a brown lock from his eyes, he sauntered over to Affie. “M’lady if you’d please,” he said seizing saidin and waiting to be allowed to delve her.