Tamora eventually opened her eyes, unable to see that scene anymore. She could not take it, her heart was broken, but it still felt like it wanted to burst from her chest. In her bed in the Green Ajah quarters, in sheets she had lain in with Jenin the last time they had been here (though they had been laundered since) she realised that she could not smell him here. There was no sense of him here in the bed as there was not any sense in her heart. Oh Light, how am I supposed to go on? It was a question had been asking herself for days now. She had rested in the Kandori City where she had taken the towns folk to safety, to report the attack on their Blight Border, and then come back here. That had been a day ago, maybe two? She was not even sure how long she had slept and wept since she had come back. She knew that the servants had been in and out, bringing food and clean bathing water, but Tamora had laid there and ignored them. Talking to any right now was too hard. But she knew she would need to report to Miahala about what happened.
Thinking of the older woman, she tried t imagine her standing there now, and looking down at Tamora with disappointment at her piteous state. It helped, even if it would not have been true, to get Tam up and out of the bed. She went to the wash stand, seeing fresh lemon and mint soap and water. Embracing saidar, she used a little Fire to heat the water before she began to wash. She tried to wash the pain off her skin, leaving it pink and bright, but not one memory left her. She moved to her wardrobe, her hair damp from the wash. Picking out a black dress that seemed about right for her loss, she began to don it slowly. She embraced saidar to dry her long dark hair, but pulled it up into a knot at the back, something she never did.
Once she was sure she looked respectable enough, she made her way out into her sitting room, and saw her travelling items there, including Jenin's broken staff and axe. She had gone back the next day and rained hell down on the trollocs, finding no body but his equipment. She had brought them back to give to the Gaidin for their wall of remembrance. He would be honoured. She could see that everything had been cleaned, including his weapons of the black shadowspawn blood, and the red of his own. She touched the axe haft and felt another wave of grief ride through her body. It was the only thing he had taken more pride in than her, looking after his axe as well as he had her in their time together. Creator, help me.
Leaving his weapons there, along with his fan cloak, she made for her sitting room door, and headed out into the Green Ajah halls. She walked straight backed, her hands clasped at her waist, her face a mask that was barely holding in the emotions that were roiling through her body.