Re: Measure for Measure (Attn: Alianora)
Posted: November 6th, 2020, 1:24 am
OOC: A bit long, but if you'd like, your post can cement the end of the thread.
From his first days in the Grey Tower, Mal had been one of two things: either dedicated to training or stepping on every toe possible of some Warders and some of the Asha’man and Aes Sedai because ... well, for reasons he had since let go.
Well, stepping on toes because of his attitude and his mouth flapping too much ... more so than when he had been a simple soldier.
But since his confession to both Lysira Gaidin and to the Captain-General ... and since meeting Catasina, he could at least appreciate his role here.
His silver-blue eyes observed the Novice for but a second and he smiled faintly, so brief it was hard to register. Mostly because of her, he thought.
“I’m sure,” he murmured in response to her question. “She would pull you into our dinner if she could ... and as to messing her things up ... she and I grew up in the estates of Lord Ared do’Lai along with her new husband, the Lord do’Rai, who was fostered by Lord do’Lai. All three of us played pranks on each other and the Lord’s own children ... and this berry juice trick was my sister’s favorite since she was five.”
He smiled again, this time fondly of those old memories. He had not been such a child since he was twelve years old.
“My sister values people more than things, though she’ll likely lodge a complaint with the Gaidin Captain over the incident ...”
But the sounds of footfalls continued to echo in his ears. They drew closer than he liked ... still far enough away. Without a second thought, he gripped the Novice’s hand and pulled politely before making for the doors that his sister had vanished behind.
Light, but he hoped his sister had not changed in the few years he had seen her last.
They were through the doors and he closed them with seconds to spare. On the other side of the door, about a dozen paces away, stood his sister, along with three taller, nicely-dressed women fretting about their mistress.
All four looked up and the three ladies-in-waiting looked on the brink of laughing when Mal, standing slightly behind Catasina, shook his head in the faintest of ways.
The smaller woman, in a pink-sodden gown, looked up and smiled faintly. “I see he was smart enough to offer you options, young Lady,” Amberlee said, without a trace of doubt in her voice and very clearly, as if with no hesitation that she suffered from a hearing impairment.
Mal blinked, his jaw dropped at the surprise. He only saw her sister smile.
“At dinner, dear brother, at dinner,” she said.
She looked to the two ladies on her left. “Asha, run ahead to our apartments and prepare the bathtub for hot water and inform the servants for a very quick and thorough cleaning, and to find Novice gowns appropriate for this Novice’s size. Lisya, find a bucket of warm water and clothes for my brother to clean himself with ...”
The two women were already departing, but Amberlee’s hazel eyes had already turned to the other two stained people.
“My, what a group we make,” she said. She smiled slightly. “But what a pair you two make even more ...” she said, as if slightly teasing them in a jovial fashion. No malice tainted her voice or showed in her face, only honest observation.
Mal couldn’t respond before his sister had crossed the narrow distance between the three of them, and she was quick to take Catasina’s arm in her own.
“Now we must get you out of the public view before any of the learning ranks come this way,” she said. “Mal has always written how stern some Aes Sedai can be when they apparently find learning ranks to be out of sorts. And whilst we’re talking about formalities, I will insist you call me Amberlee.”
Mal still stood in place, shocked beyond belief that his sister could speak so clearly ...
“Malcym Ashe, pick up your jaw and your pace now, or I will tell the Lady Catasina about how your prank with the honeycomb and feathers backed fired when you were seven,” she said without missing a pace. “Or the exact number of times you’ve mentioned in your letters that you’ve never met a woman like your friend.”
Mal opened his mouth but bit his tongue and followed quickly behind. While he might have considered how his sister had changed ... he could still ... smell her sincerity and a lack of anything else.
Worse, he heard the words whispered from Amber to Catasina as the former leaned close to the latter briefly.
“He respects you a lot,” he heard Amber whisper. “His letters were exact in that you keep him off guard and thinking ... and that is what he needs right now, a friend to keep him thinking rather than fighting.”
Mal just bit his tongue and followed in silence. Light, but he was going to kill his sister.
---
The young soldier looked at his surroundings, his hair wet from the lukewarm water he had poured over himself in an adjacent room not too long ago. He was dressed in newly-procured drin uniforms, perhaps procured from the nearby laundry, but at least he was clean.
Now he stood in the main chamber of his sister’s modest apartment, something set aside for distinguished guests of the Tower. While his sister might have been born a bastard and raised the stepdaughter of a lord’s captain turned moneylender, she was now of the House a’Roihan.
And Mal was ... would always be a soldier. He respected people, not noble lineages. And while his sister’s husband would never be High Seat, he knew the man to be a just, kind man.
But he was already thinking about other things. It’d been at least half an hour since they’d arrived and Catasina swept away into a separate room ... and Light knew it would take as long to get all the bloody icoberry goop out of the hair and skin.
One hand rested on his sword hilt, the other thumbing a ring he wore ... his sister had had since come and gone elsewhere to bathe, apparently, leaving the two initiates alone so to speak to clean themselves.
But now, one of his sister’s ladies-in-waiting was nearby, Lisya, he recalled.
“Will you be departing soon, Master Ashe,” the slender brown-haired lass asked. Mal shook his head absently, looking at the door Catasina had been taken behind upon arrival.
“You’ll be departing with the Novice then,” she said, most assuredly. “She is ... interesting.”
Mal cast an eye at the younger woman with a raised eyebrow. The woman merely curtsied and cast her brown eyes downward. “Begging your pardon, Master Ashe, it’s just that the Lady’s husband always said the Ashe family was most charitable, especially where the less fortunate are concerned ...”
“Charitable?” Mal asked, almost scoffing. He didn’t hear the door creaking open. “Yes, my stepfather and mother might provide meals for those in need during feastdays, but I doubt so much that the Lord a’Roihan used the word ‘charitable.’”
“He did indeed my lord, and your sister seems to have taken an eye toward your Novice friend, and you seem rather quick to help someone so ...”
Mal’s eyes narrowed and he stiffened. “So what? Someone so caught up with her own appearance it might seem to border on vanity? Someone so fraught with concern over themselves they care not a wit about themselves? Someone who might value nobility and climbing the social order ... “
The young lady lifted her eyes and smirked. “Yes, sir, and you saw that, didn’t you. Most young Ladies are like that. My sisters are, and so are my Lady’s other ladies-in-waiting.”
Mal turned completely, his back toward the door. His silver-blue eyes flashed.
“Not once,” he said sharply. “With respect, my Lady, the first time I saw Catasina, she had been smacked by a shovelful of manure meant for me and before I could help her back up ... well, a deed most foul happened to us both. In plotting our revenge, when we introduced ourselves ... yes, I know who her House is ... and later saw her for being much more than some pretty face meant to be married off or petty player of the flaming Game of Houses.”
The lady-in-waiting’s smirk lingered. “So you found her a useful fall for your revenge ...”
“Never!” Mal said sharply, perhaps too much forcibly. “I will admit I regret the circumstances in which we met, but never meeting her ...”
“Really, so if you and she met in a completely normal fashion and she were to only briefly engage you in conversation, you wouldn’t consider vain or just another entitled noble, someone so shallow?”
Mal never hesitated. “Never,” he said. “Her eyes. They say something. Someone who can be so much more than what she was ... someone who will be better ... someone I could I follow and give my ...”
The young Lady’s eyes darted too quickly to the door and Malcym turned his gaze back to the now open door. And saw Catasina. And he cast his eyes toward the floor.
“Novice ... when you’re ready, I’ll escort you to your next lesson and explain that ... I found you briefly feeling ill from ... breakfast, something disagreed with us both,” Mal said. He could tell a lie if hard pressed.
Before either could speak a word, the young Lady raised a finger. “Begging your pardon, Lady Catasina, Master Ashe, the Lady a’Roihan wanted to beg your pardon, Master Ashe, that dinner would not be possible. Some Grey Asha’man asked her presence about treaties or such tonight and her party will be departing early in the morning.”
Mal’s face fell a little but he nodded. “Thank my sister for me, my Lady,” he murmured. He turned to Catasina and extended a hand. “Lady Catasina ... Novice ... I ... when you’re ready.”
From his first days in the Grey Tower, Mal had been one of two things: either dedicated to training or stepping on every toe possible of some Warders and some of the Asha’man and Aes Sedai because ... well, for reasons he had since let go.
Well, stepping on toes because of his attitude and his mouth flapping too much ... more so than when he had been a simple soldier.
But since his confession to both Lysira Gaidin and to the Captain-General ... and since meeting Catasina, he could at least appreciate his role here.
His silver-blue eyes observed the Novice for but a second and he smiled faintly, so brief it was hard to register. Mostly because of her, he thought.
“I’m sure,” he murmured in response to her question. “She would pull you into our dinner if she could ... and as to messing her things up ... she and I grew up in the estates of Lord Ared do’Lai along with her new husband, the Lord do’Rai, who was fostered by Lord do’Lai. All three of us played pranks on each other and the Lord’s own children ... and this berry juice trick was my sister’s favorite since she was five.”
He smiled again, this time fondly of those old memories. He had not been such a child since he was twelve years old.
“My sister values people more than things, though she’ll likely lodge a complaint with the Gaidin Captain over the incident ...”
But the sounds of footfalls continued to echo in his ears. They drew closer than he liked ... still far enough away. Without a second thought, he gripped the Novice’s hand and pulled politely before making for the doors that his sister had vanished behind.
Light, but he hoped his sister had not changed in the few years he had seen her last.
They were through the doors and he closed them with seconds to spare. On the other side of the door, about a dozen paces away, stood his sister, along with three taller, nicely-dressed women fretting about their mistress.
All four looked up and the three ladies-in-waiting looked on the brink of laughing when Mal, standing slightly behind Catasina, shook his head in the faintest of ways.
The smaller woman, in a pink-sodden gown, looked up and smiled faintly. “I see he was smart enough to offer you options, young Lady,” Amberlee said, without a trace of doubt in her voice and very clearly, as if with no hesitation that she suffered from a hearing impairment.
Mal blinked, his jaw dropped at the surprise. He only saw her sister smile.
“At dinner, dear brother, at dinner,” she said.
She looked to the two ladies on her left. “Asha, run ahead to our apartments and prepare the bathtub for hot water and inform the servants for a very quick and thorough cleaning, and to find Novice gowns appropriate for this Novice’s size. Lisya, find a bucket of warm water and clothes for my brother to clean himself with ...”
The two women were already departing, but Amberlee’s hazel eyes had already turned to the other two stained people.
“My, what a group we make,” she said. She smiled slightly. “But what a pair you two make even more ...” she said, as if slightly teasing them in a jovial fashion. No malice tainted her voice or showed in her face, only honest observation.
Mal couldn’t respond before his sister had crossed the narrow distance between the three of them, and she was quick to take Catasina’s arm in her own.
“Now we must get you out of the public view before any of the learning ranks come this way,” she said. “Mal has always written how stern some Aes Sedai can be when they apparently find learning ranks to be out of sorts. And whilst we’re talking about formalities, I will insist you call me Amberlee.”
Mal still stood in place, shocked beyond belief that his sister could speak so clearly ...
“Malcym Ashe, pick up your jaw and your pace now, or I will tell the Lady Catasina about how your prank with the honeycomb and feathers backed fired when you were seven,” she said without missing a pace. “Or the exact number of times you’ve mentioned in your letters that you’ve never met a woman like your friend.”
Mal opened his mouth but bit his tongue and followed quickly behind. While he might have considered how his sister had changed ... he could still ... smell her sincerity and a lack of anything else.
Worse, he heard the words whispered from Amber to Catasina as the former leaned close to the latter briefly.
“He respects you a lot,” he heard Amber whisper. “His letters were exact in that you keep him off guard and thinking ... and that is what he needs right now, a friend to keep him thinking rather than fighting.”
Mal just bit his tongue and followed in silence. Light, but he was going to kill his sister.
---
The young soldier looked at his surroundings, his hair wet from the lukewarm water he had poured over himself in an adjacent room not too long ago. He was dressed in newly-procured drin uniforms, perhaps procured from the nearby laundry, but at least he was clean.
Now he stood in the main chamber of his sister’s modest apartment, something set aside for distinguished guests of the Tower. While his sister might have been born a bastard and raised the stepdaughter of a lord’s captain turned moneylender, she was now of the House a’Roihan.
And Mal was ... would always be a soldier. He respected people, not noble lineages. And while his sister’s husband would never be High Seat, he knew the man to be a just, kind man.
But he was already thinking about other things. It’d been at least half an hour since they’d arrived and Catasina swept away into a separate room ... and Light knew it would take as long to get all the bloody icoberry goop out of the hair and skin.
One hand rested on his sword hilt, the other thumbing a ring he wore ... his sister had had since come and gone elsewhere to bathe, apparently, leaving the two initiates alone so to speak to clean themselves.
But now, one of his sister’s ladies-in-waiting was nearby, Lisya, he recalled.
“Will you be departing soon, Master Ashe,” the slender brown-haired lass asked. Mal shook his head absently, looking at the door Catasina had been taken behind upon arrival.
“You’ll be departing with the Novice then,” she said, most assuredly. “She is ... interesting.”
Mal cast an eye at the younger woman with a raised eyebrow. The woman merely curtsied and cast her brown eyes downward. “Begging your pardon, Master Ashe, it’s just that the Lady’s husband always said the Ashe family was most charitable, especially where the less fortunate are concerned ...”
“Charitable?” Mal asked, almost scoffing. He didn’t hear the door creaking open. “Yes, my stepfather and mother might provide meals for those in need during feastdays, but I doubt so much that the Lord a’Roihan used the word ‘charitable.’”
“He did indeed my lord, and your sister seems to have taken an eye toward your Novice friend, and you seem rather quick to help someone so ...”
Mal’s eyes narrowed and he stiffened. “So what? Someone so caught up with her own appearance it might seem to border on vanity? Someone so fraught with concern over themselves they care not a wit about themselves? Someone who might value nobility and climbing the social order ... “
The young lady lifted her eyes and smirked. “Yes, sir, and you saw that, didn’t you. Most young Ladies are like that. My sisters are, and so are my Lady’s other ladies-in-waiting.”
Mal turned completely, his back toward the door. His silver-blue eyes flashed.
“Not once,” he said sharply. “With respect, my Lady, the first time I saw Catasina, she had been smacked by a shovelful of manure meant for me and before I could help her back up ... well, a deed most foul happened to us both. In plotting our revenge, when we introduced ourselves ... yes, I know who her House is ... and later saw her for being much more than some pretty face meant to be married off or petty player of the flaming Game of Houses.”
The lady-in-waiting’s smirk lingered. “So you found her a useful fall for your revenge ...”
“Never!” Mal said sharply, perhaps too much forcibly. “I will admit I regret the circumstances in which we met, but never meeting her ...”
“Really, so if you and she met in a completely normal fashion and she were to only briefly engage you in conversation, you wouldn’t consider vain or just another entitled noble, someone so shallow?”
Mal never hesitated. “Never,” he said. “Her eyes. They say something. Someone who can be so much more than what she was ... someone who will be better ... someone I could I follow and give my ...”
The young Lady’s eyes darted too quickly to the door and Malcym turned his gaze back to the now open door. And saw Catasina. And he cast his eyes toward the floor.
“Novice ... when you’re ready, I’ll escort you to your next lesson and explain that ... I found you briefly feeling ill from ... breakfast, something disagreed with us both,” Mal said. He could tell a lie if hard pressed.
Before either could speak a word, the young Lady raised a finger. “Begging your pardon, Lady Catasina, Master Ashe, the Lady a’Roihan wanted to beg your pardon, Master Ashe, that dinner would not be possible. Some Grey Asha’man asked her presence about treaties or such tonight and her party will be departing early in the morning.”
Mal’s face fell a little but he nodded. “Thank my sister for me, my Lady,” he murmured. He turned to Catasina and extended a hand. “Lady Catasina ... Novice ... I ... when you’re ready.”