The night was cold and still. The sky was midnight black, aside from the pale shine of the gibbous moon, obscured by pillowy clouds. Light shone from the windows of the Grey Tower, but it did not reach the furthest depths of the gardens. Water babbled and burbled from the stream that made a sinuous division between the western and eastern halves of the lush sanctuary, although most of its beauty and colours were muted at this hour.
Moonlight danced across the face of a woman, reflected in the ever flowing current. If she was perturbed by the darkness or the solemnity of the gardens, it didn't show on her coppery features. Brown eyes, like melted chocolate, took in everything she passed by. It was clear from her gait that she was searching for something amongst the trees and flowers, and that it could appear at any junction.
The western edge of the gardens ended in a tall rampart that surrounded and protected the Grey Tower and its grounds. The shadows lay deepest here during the day, although as it was early evening, it caught the full glare of the moon's light. The dark-haired woman, skirts kicking out, moved towards this highlighted expanse as if guided by an invisible force.
Small clearings amongst the flora allowed for secretive rendezvous between illicit lovers, or kept hidden from view dealings that should never be recorded. With the cold and the dark, it would have required stout hearts and thick garments to brave venturing into one of these natural alcoves, but that was where the woman found herself.
Through the soft ferns that threatened to envelop her, and she was of considerable height, a blur moved in the clearing. The luminous depths of her eyes picked out the features of a man, even concealed by the rippling fancloak that made him flicker out of focus. A sword gleamed in each of his hands as it caught the silver light above, or the orange light from the Tower. They were also a blur of motion, as their wielder moved through an odd dance.
As she broke into one of the clearings, the snapping of a fallen twig underfoot shattered any hope of sneaking upon the swordsman unawares. Even as she cursed her own folly, the man turned towards her, the two swords disappearing into lengths of leather at his waist.
The man approached, moving into a beam of moonlight between the hedges. He stood at the same height as the woman, but his features were vastly different. Ginger hair stood out on the top of his head in an untamed mess, and pale eyes focused warmly on the newcomer as a smile broke the hard features of his face. Whilst she was resplendent in a dress of silk tailored by a master seamstress, he wore unadorned trousers of dull grey and a pale cotton shirt. That befitted their previous stations, as a high-born noble and a common soldier. They seemed to be opposites in most respects, aside from the warmth found in each of their expressions.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" quipped Rav. His hands rested lightly on his pommels, always vigilant despite the apparent lack of danger. For a moment he looked beyond her back through the ferns. "No Dax?"
Katrie shook her head slightly, her dark hair framing her cheery expression. "No Dax," she repeated. The accent of Cairhien was light in her voice tonight. "I was looking for you. I need a favour." Aes Sedai across the world could have made that a command, but from the Brown sister, it was an invitation. A mischievous quirk to her lips said there was something amusing in this offer.
Rav bowed deeply. "And what can this humble Gaidin do for one of our most illustrious Aes Sedai?" His tone was mockingly playful, but his hands gripped around his sword hilts in preparation, no matter how light the mood was.
"Ooh, illustrious. I like that." Her brows drew together briefly. "Am I really illustrious though? Wait, no, don't answer that. I don't want to get mad at you!" Her hands clasped behind her back and she bounced up a little onto her toes. "I need help finding a book."
"A book?" His tone became dry, although it halted on the step before condescension. "Can't you ask an Accepted to look through the Tower library for you?" Rav rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Katrie had an odd perception about what classified as fun, and browsing through endless rows of books did not enter into it.
"No." The one word seemed abrupt, and she continued defensively under his confused frown. "I mean, I could, but no."
"Okay." The word came slowly from his mouth, with the same confusion that marred his features. "I'll help, but. This isn't going against someone's orders, is it? We're not about to snatch something from the restricted section, right?" Ravak sounded hesitant, although he wouldn't have minded having a peek beyond the curtain. He was curious what was considered restricted, saying the Tower Library seemed to have books on everything.
Katrie tilted her head to the side, dark eyes narrowing slightly. "We're not 'snatching' anything, Muscles, I promise. And I'm a Brown. There's not exactly a whole lot that's restricted to me."
She didn't sound convinced, and as she wasn't Oathsworn, Rav knew it could be a lie. "True," he stated consideringly. "So how can I help where an Accepted cannot?" What was so special about this request that required him specifically? "It's not like I can reach any of the higher shelves any easier than you can."
The Brown's fingers curled around the waist of her dress, twisting the fabric around fingers, then letting them unfurl. Fidgeting was Katrie's telltale sign that she was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable to find a book? Rav made half a step towards her, to comfort her, before she spoke softly. "I'm. I'm trying to find a book with stories in it. I don't want anyone else to know."
Even with the glow of the pale moonlight, Katrie's face still seemed haunted. Ravak did move closer then, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Well in that case, let's go!" He gave her an encouraging squeeze to match his positive rallying cry, then turned her around to face towards the Tower.
Moonlight danced across the face of a woman, reflected in the ever flowing current. If she was perturbed by the darkness or the solemnity of the gardens, it didn't show on her coppery features. Brown eyes, like melted chocolate, took in everything she passed by. It was clear from her gait that she was searching for something amongst the trees and flowers, and that it could appear at any junction.
The western edge of the gardens ended in a tall rampart that surrounded and protected the Grey Tower and its grounds. The shadows lay deepest here during the day, although as it was early evening, it caught the full glare of the moon's light. The dark-haired woman, skirts kicking out, moved towards this highlighted expanse as if guided by an invisible force.
Small clearings amongst the flora allowed for secretive rendezvous between illicit lovers, or kept hidden from view dealings that should never be recorded. With the cold and the dark, it would have required stout hearts and thick garments to brave venturing into one of these natural alcoves, but that was where the woman found herself.
Through the soft ferns that threatened to envelop her, and she was of considerable height, a blur moved in the clearing. The luminous depths of her eyes picked out the features of a man, even concealed by the rippling fancloak that made him flicker out of focus. A sword gleamed in each of his hands as it caught the silver light above, or the orange light from the Tower. They were also a blur of motion, as their wielder moved through an odd dance.
As she broke into one of the clearings, the snapping of a fallen twig underfoot shattered any hope of sneaking upon the swordsman unawares. Even as she cursed her own folly, the man turned towards her, the two swords disappearing into lengths of leather at his waist.
The man approached, moving into a beam of moonlight between the hedges. He stood at the same height as the woman, but his features were vastly different. Ginger hair stood out on the top of his head in an untamed mess, and pale eyes focused warmly on the newcomer as a smile broke the hard features of his face. Whilst she was resplendent in a dress of silk tailored by a master seamstress, he wore unadorned trousers of dull grey and a pale cotton shirt. That befitted their previous stations, as a high-born noble and a common soldier. They seemed to be opposites in most respects, aside from the warmth found in each of their expressions.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" quipped Rav. His hands rested lightly on his pommels, always vigilant despite the apparent lack of danger. For a moment he looked beyond her back through the ferns. "No Dax?"
Katrie shook her head slightly, her dark hair framing her cheery expression. "No Dax," she repeated. The accent of Cairhien was light in her voice tonight. "I was looking for you. I need a favour." Aes Sedai across the world could have made that a command, but from the Brown sister, it was an invitation. A mischievous quirk to her lips said there was something amusing in this offer.
Rav bowed deeply. "And what can this humble Gaidin do for one of our most illustrious Aes Sedai?" His tone was mockingly playful, but his hands gripped around his sword hilts in preparation, no matter how light the mood was.
"Ooh, illustrious. I like that." Her brows drew together briefly. "Am I really illustrious though? Wait, no, don't answer that. I don't want to get mad at you!" Her hands clasped behind her back and she bounced up a little onto her toes. "I need help finding a book."
"A book?" His tone became dry, although it halted on the step before condescension. "Can't you ask an Accepted to look through the Tower library for you?" Rav rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Katrie had an odd perception about what classified as fun, and browsing through endless rows of books did not enter into it.
"No." The one word seemed abrupt, and she continued defensively under his confused frown. "I mean, I could, but no."
"Okay." The word came slowly from his mouth, with the same confusion that marred his features. "I'll help, but. This isn't going against someone's orders, is it? We're not about to snatch something from the restricted section, right?" Ravak sounded hesitant, although he wouldn't have minded having a peek beyond the curtain. He was curious what was considered restricted, saying the Tower Library seemed to have books on everything.
Katrie tilted her head to the side, dark eyes narrowing slightly. "We're not 'snatching' anything, Muscles, I promise. And I'm a Brown. There's not exactly a whole lot that's restricted to me."
She didn't sound convinced, and as she wasn't Oathsworn, Rav knew it could be a lie. "True," he stated consideringly. "So how can I help where an Accepted cannot?" What was so special about this request that required him specifically? "It's not like I can reach any of the higher shelves any easier than you can."
The Brown's fingers curled around the waist of her dress, twisting the fabric around fingers, then letting them unfurl. Fidgeting was Katrie's telltale sign that she was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable to find a book? Rav made half a step towards her, to comfort her, before she spoke softly. "I'm. I'm trying to find a book with stories in it. I don't want anyone else to know."
Even with the glow of the pale moonlight, Katrie's face still seemed haunted. Ravak did move closer then, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Well in that case, let's go!" He gave her an encouraging squeeze to match his positive rallying cry, then turned her around to face towards the Tower.
