The Grey Tower

Miahala Ives Sedai It was a fact, utterly impossible to escape, that over the course of one and a half centuries (or thereabouts) that a single life would change many times and in many ways, some predictable and some not. Yet there had been few changes that had occurred in Mia's life that had fully surprised her, even dying had not really shocked her. If being stabbed by someone you thought long gone, long dead, did not prove to be a shock, then whatever could?

...becoming the Amyrlin Seat. That did it.

It wasn't until the ceremony was over that it had even begun to sink in. After all the decades that had passed by without her taking the stole, it had fully escaped her mind--when it had hardly truly entered it in the first place--that it would fall upon her. Then with her resurrection and the way that such a fact made most feel, she did not imagine that a woman who had once been dead would be called to serve this seat.

And yet, she had been. Here she was. Miahala, once mother to five and now Mother to the Grey Tower, was the Amyrlin Seat. She comes, she comes... If she had felt inhuman before, nothing was going to save her now.

Now she was a prisoner with bars in eight colors.

It was Dark now. Six hours after Low. The Tower was asleep, but for those few that were required to work at these hours...and for Miahala, she was awake. She was awake and pacing the spacious rooms that were afforded (forced upon) the woman who wore the mantle of Amyrlin. Had these been the rooms that Harmony, Lelianna, Amora once traversed or had that changed in the Tower during the time she was dead? She wasn't sure. Somehow, their ghosts lingered either way and unnerved her.

Animals don't like to be caged. Miahala was no different. She knew that members of the Tower Guard were outside her door, because they were everywhere she went. She was almost shocked that they didn't require one to be inside her bloody chambers, but maybe they realized she would fry that unfortunate soul to a crisp. Fire was not her strongest element, but she'd find a way.

Two. She knew that two manned her door. How was she going to get rid of them?

She was not a subtle woman. When she thought of "distractions," her mind generally went to places that would end up damaging the Tower around her more than just diverting the attention of her guards so she could get away. So desperate was she, she almost wished she knew the forbidden weave of Compulsion! That's just how bad her incarceration had become! She cursed under her breath, narrowing her eyes and staring at the door.

Would it be different if she had a warder? Now there was a thought. Perhaps they would have made the guards go away if she had a warder who lived in here with her. Perhaps with the suggestion that they did not want to be overheard. That drew a smirk onto the full lips of a woman who'd been married three times. At least my passions did not die with me, she reflected. Having pleasant company in here would make the prison a little better, too.

That line of thought was stopped because there was no one warming her bed with her and not likely to be in the next ten minutes, so it was back to figuring out her escape.

Then, Mia heard footsteps in the corridor as the Tower bells rang the time. The guards changed at this time! She heard their voices outside as they talked with one another and it let her open the door slightly without their notice. Now that she could see, she embraced saidar as easily as breathing and just a few cords of Air further down the hall had all of their attention as well as enough noise to cover her slipping out. She shut the door, wincing at the noise but making more to cover it while they moved down that way...

...then she was gone around the corner, never the wiser. Getting back would be a new problem, but she'd worry about that later.
~ * ~ The Halls had been empty, given the hour, and she was able to make it out of the personal corridors and then out of the building. She was able to get as far as the stables without any resistance and she felt like she could breathe again for the first time since she had been awakened in the middle of the night and brought to the Hall.

Inside the stable, horses nickered softly as she passed them. She had just reached Seren's stall when she heard a noise not from a horse's trod but a human's. Saidar fast filled her again as she spun, an orb of light illuminating the scene and a dozen defensive weaves at her fingertips...

"Checking the stalls for rats?" the man at the end of the stalls spoke, though his voice was pitched low so as not to attract more attention than he already had. His hand was up to shield away the bright light that had now ruined perfectly good night sight. "You know, for trying not to attract attention, a beacon in the middle of the stables is a poor way to do it." The image of him resolved itself into that of a Gaidin in fancloak and dusky leathers, stalking the night like some creature up to no good. The fact of the matter was that Kubotai had yet to adjust to a normal sleep pattern, and when he did sleep it was usually while the Tower bustled through the daylight hours; it was much easier to not be bothered when you slept. Plus, it was much easier to sneak around the Tower grounds at night than in the daytime.

Seeing him draw near, Mia frowned curiously and narrowed her eyes enough to see him better. "You," she stated simply, not in accusation but somewhat in curious surprise. She recalled the militia man, the Borderlander, she had met in the dining hall that night. That had been...before she had become the dancing pony in the multi-color fabric.

Mia lowered her hands and let the light dim. "A blinding light can be a useful tool at times," she commented simply. She did not have to defend herself, even if she felt a little caught out. Maybe she was better at sneaking than most Aes Sedai or Asha'man, but she was no Gaidar... I wonder if I could get a fancloak, her mind quipped, rather nonsensically.

Being Amyrlin is making me a lunatic, she added inwardly.

"I was checking the stalls for my horse, if you must know," she added, finding herself oddly slipping into the same ease of tongue that she'd had when she'd seen him in the dining hall. She didn't feel like that so instinctively with too many people, and even less since The Event, as it would forever be called. Perhaps she should have burned the Hall to the ground instead of accepting the stole.

Now there's a thought.

Kubotai made a show of peeking out into the night air that was still black as pitch. "Checking your stall for your horse. Why, had you misplaced him somewhere else once?" he asked flippantly, maneuvering further down the stalls with a nonchalant gait. "If you can misplace a horse I'd worry about what smaller things you might lose." He stopped just out of arm's reach with that cheeky ghost of a grin on his face. "Oh, and it wasn't me who found you, it was him," he commented lightly, pointing behind her to the dog laying down with his muzzle on his paws, looking up at the Aes Sedai - The Amyrlin, lest he forget - with a patient expectancy.

Turning around, Miahala looked down...and saw the dog. That drew an uncontrolled, pure smile onto her full lips. Normally, she was very controlled and reserved. Even her smiles were economic gestures that wasted no emotion or energy. This, however, was certainly not a waste of either but it was far from controlled or reserved as she looked upon the unassuming, bright-eyed mutt.

Mia knelt down before him, although did not lean in. She respected animals, and knew them. Horses were her better area, of course, but she knew dogs as well. "Well, it looks like the Tower has a new warden," she said, her voice low, as if pitched only for him, though a Gaidin would be able to hear her.

She held her hand out slowly and low, allowing him to move forward for it or not--as he determined. Turning her head, she spoke now in a pitch that was clearly meant for him. "With this one, you well know that it is far easier to misplace that had feet and a mind of their own," she quipped with a subtle but clear warmth in her voice.

"I give the stablehands a little more credit with a horse," Kubotai replied, his tone and manner becoming a softer; softer in the manner that the underside of a boulder is softer when revealed as it tumbled down on your head. "At least in the manner of here within the Tower grounds," he said as an after thought, a hand half raised as if to forestall any further...discussion on the subject. He moved closer still, kneeling down next to her and giving the dog a good scratch behind the ears. "So, once you find this horse of yours, what did you intend to do with it? I might advise that a ride this late of hour without rousing someone might lend to...more attention in the long run than perhaps you were intending."

"Oh, please," she replied, a bit more off the cuff than usual, but her first scent of freedom in what seemed like ages, combined with the later hour, and...well...the grinning, furry face before her, all conspired to loosen her tongue more than perhaps it should. "I don't earnestly believe that I could get any more attention than I've presently found." The Oaths made it so.

Noticing that his hand had now joined hers atop the dog's head and made it reveal a truly goofy smile of contentment, she forced her eyes away from him to the Gaidin. "I was considering finding Seren and riding off, not stopping till I reach Saldea." Maybe she shouldn't have said that? Oh, who cared... She spoke her mind.

Kubotai shrugged slightly in the faint light of her glowing orb. "Haven't been back to Saldea in a while. The fervor should've died down since last I made trouble there. Was only a minor altercation in any case." He snapped his fingers, a muffled sound from the leather gloves he wore. "If we had pen and parchment you could write a note having me clear the guards from the service gate, then we could sneak out and be east before sunup." The delivery was cool and careful, not carrying the wild fervor that someone younger might have injected. "Or I could just hide you under my cloak and try to smuggle you out. Though it might look strange leading a dog and two horses." He shrugged and scratched at the scruffiness that muddled his face. "Choice is yours, I suppose. I just don't do bloodshed. Not here, anyway."

As has already been established, Miahala was not a woman prone to being surprised; things just did not shock her. So far in the many past long decades, there had only been one thing that had. (That which we already established as well.) But now she found herself surprised again, albeit slightly less so than when she had so lately been called before the Hall for demented...well, for reasons.

She looked across the short distance between herself and the very plain-spoken Gaidin, and didn't find any words coming to mind.

For some reason, she had been expecting a rebuff. Although considering who she was talking to, she could not now figure out why she had been expecting it from him; just perhaps that she would have heard one from almost anyone and everyone else. The Amyrlin Seat should not do such things. She has responsibilities, status, an image to maintain. She is Mother to the Tower...

Well, anyone who knew her knew that while she was a devoted and loving mother, one who would tear apart a threat with her bare hands, she was also an active one. She didn't just sit around. She couldn't with the children she'd birthed, and now neither could she as Amyrlin.

"If you haven't noticed, I'm not the most slender of women, I don't know how well I'd fit under your cloak without your gait looking suspicious to the guards," she finally found her voice, spilling forth a vaguely improper quip with a faint lift of her brow and tilt to one side of her mouth. She wasn't quite sure what she was about at the moment. You are going crazy, woman.

"Never the mind of the slender argument, I know when I'm baited. And though I had no intention of ruining my gait, madame, I suppose there's still hours to the night," he smirked, looking almost wolfish in the dim light. "So are we to giggle in the dark or did you really want to go for a jaunt? There's a degree of clothing to be considered at this cusp of the moment."