The Grey Tower

The world spun slowly, the gradual whirl of motion keeping some of her attention away from the prickly burrs of Dax’s awareness in her head. The pleasant warmth rolling around in the pit of her stomach helped as well, as did the busy common room of… Dark eyes blinked, and she let her gaze wander aimlessly. What was this place called again? Katrie’s brows lowered as she spent several moments in deep contemplation, annoyance flickering over her face. She couldn’t remember. And she didn’t care that she couldn’t remember. Amber liquid swirled in the glass that she held, actual glass, and the Accepted paused to admire how pretty it was. Speaking of pretty…

The tall Cairhienin let her gaze wander back to the Shieneran Ji that sat next to her, and she barely bit back a giggle. She had been surprised when Rav had agreed to come out with her into Hama Valon; she had been beyond delighted when he had agreed to drink with her. Her smile for him was dazzling and he responded in kind, the too serious lines of his face relaxing into a grin.

The moment was rudely interrupted by the Tairen Gaidin. Dax rumbled fiercely inside of her mind, a dull ache blooming to life at base of her skull. Go away peacock. Katrie shoved back at him and then shoved again, for good measure. Insufferable man… A coppery hand lifted, bringing the glass to her lips and she threw back her head, emptying the remaining brandy in one swallow. She hissed afterwards, her face puckering a little. Light, but it burned all the way down, fire erupting from her stomach as the alcohol settled in to mingle with the rest she had consumed. A few seconds of mild pain… and then… the flames shot straight up, numbing and dulling all the things she didn’t wish to feel.

“Rav.” Her look became impish as she met his gaze. “I can’t remember what this place is called.” She grinned and shot a meaningful look at the still half-full glass sitting in front of him. “If you still do, then you’re not drinking fast enough!” Sable orbs slightly out of focus tried to trace over the way he filled out his uniform… and while she found it somewhat difficult, the appreciation remained the same.

“You know…” she began, leaning forward conspiratorially, her voice holding the faintest beginnings of a slur. “I remember when we first met… and you weren’t nearly so muscley. Muscle...ey…” A bubble of laughter. “Rav, you’re all muscles now.”

Rav grinned. He couldn’t help but grin. Everything was glorious. The tavern or pub or barn was filled with the hubbub of voices speaking, but above it all was the sound of a bittern playing some tunes he liked, but didn’t recognise. One foot stomped on the ground, vaguely attempting to keep with the beat of the song. A couple of times the table collided with his knee, and he give it a hearty thump for its obstinance.

“I like the songs!” he called out loud enough for Katrie to hear. She was downing a small glass of something honey-coloured. Not beer. Beer wasn’t fit for a lady like Katrie. And she was a lady. He laughed, a rich sound that shook his entire frame. I’m drinking with an actual lady! A far cry from the austerity of Fal Dara. He didn’t been fit company for a lady then. Oh Light, but he felt good now.

The light in the barn or tavern had a luminous quality that made everything seem distant and blurry, as if sighted through a fog. It even seemed to drown out sound. Katrie was saying something, looking at his drink with interest. “...you’re not drinking fast enough!” He shot her a hiss, nothing serious, and grabbed the glass. Within seven seconds, the rest of the pint was away inside of him. He sat back to emit a large belch. Where did that come from? He grinned again, amused by the sound. The next two burps didn’t quite raise the same amount of merriment in the Shienaran. His stomach seemed to roil. Must’ve ate something bad earlier.

Katrie leaned over the table towards him, and his eyes dropped down to follow the depths below her collar. Light, if only she wasn’t so... The word he searched for escaped him as she laughed. “Rav, you’re all muscles now.”

“I am,” he boasted proudly. “You can have a feel if you like, but don’t tell the other Accepted. They’ll get all jealous, and then they’ll be a flock of them hanging around the Training Yards fawning over me.” He leaned over the table towards her, her beautiful face filling the entirety of his focused vision. “But if you do, you can’t tell anyone.” He shushed loudly through one pointed finger. “You’re not allowed relationships.” He winked. That could be their little secret.

The noise she made was positively gleeful, Katrie’s lips parting slightly. Something about what Rav had said… not allowed… something about relationships… buzzed annoyingly in her ear, but she willfully ignored it and pushed it away from her mind. Instead she placed tentative hands against Rav’s upper arm, another little noise coming from her as she pushed down and was met with firm resistance.

“I’m not going to tell the other Accepted… don’t worry.” Katrie giggled, the thought of women in banded hems lining up to examine Rav’s muscles striking her as terribly funny. He could charge coin for it! Muscles! She tried to share that with him, but her brain listed sideways and the muddled idea slipped away, the fire in her mind burning it to crisp. “What’ve they been feeding you?” she asked instead, genuinely impressed as she tried to meet his eyes. She did, eventually, a finger going to prod at the muscle. “It’s kind of like a rock!”

Rav paused a moment, watching her face intently. “Apples,” he answered solemnly, the seriousness of his tone at odds with the giant grin that threatened to split his face in half. “And - hey wait! We should get some cider!”

Katrie gasped a little and nodded emphatically. That was a fantastic idea! She opened her mouth to tell him so. It took several slurred tries, but she lifted her arm to flag down the bartender person again. A brief, unwanted memory surfaced… of being cut off from ordering more drinks, but she quickly stamped that back down. No. She didn’t want to remember. Not right now. Not tonight. Not any night. As if summoned by mere thought alone, Dax came surging through her mind, barrelling straight to the forefront of her awareness. She could not deal with this… with him… No more… please… If she knew how to, she would release him and spare them both this never ending agony.

The mugs of cider could not come quickly enough, and Katrie spent the next several minutes downing the entirety of the sweetness, ignoring the way the residual acid bit into her throat. She bared her teeth in a semblance of a smile after she was finished, dark eyes slightly wild. The walls swam and blurred together with the floor, the Accepted swaying a little in her seat. She gripped on to the table in front of her, trying to keep from flying off into the spinning whirlwind that erupted inside of her skull.

“No…” she mumbled under her breath. “Go ‘way peacock. With Muscles now. Go ‘way.” The Tairen didn’t listen, but Katrie refused to have this ruined and marshalled all of the fire, and turmoil, and distorted thoughts, creating a kind of barricade against the bond between herself and Dax. Maybe it was the drink… maybe it was the fact that she tried to convince herself that she didn’t care - whatever it was, she could breathe again. She gave Rav a little pained smile, tapping a finger against the side of her head. “Gets noisy in there sometimes. Nothing to worry over.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “Let’s dance!”

Rav admired Katrie over the top of his glass. For a little lady, she can sure put away a fair amount of drink. He started to grin again, and cider dripped around the side of his mouth and down his chin. He rubbed it off as best as he could, but the hairs in his beard were already matted together from previous spillages.

“Who’s outdrinking who now?” he asked, but Katrie’s eyes had turned inward. That wasn’t meant to be the way of the evening. This plan was all about forgetting about what she had done. No, what Dax had done. Had he done it? What? He frowned. His thoughts were scrambled for some reason. He looked at the half-empty glass in his hand for a minute. Nah, he hadn’t drunken that much, and it couldn’t be that late already. It was fine. Everything was good.

Katrie finished her drink first, and flashed a winning smile. He smiled back, carefully not to let the cider go to waste this time. She started to lean over the table again, seductively, holding onto the sides as if she needed to hold herself up. Fah, she can’t think I’m that good looking. Then again...

“Goway peacock.” Rav blinked, wondering what Katrie was babbling about. “With muscles now. Go way, peacock.” Rav looked around, eyes darting around. What peacock? There wasn’t any birds in this barn. He hadn’t heard any, had he? Maybe they were hiding. He looked back at her frowning, and she tapped the side of her head. “Gets noisy in here sometimes. Nothing to worry over.” He nodded. It was quite noisy in here, peacocks or not. Rav wasn’t sure he knew what a peacock sounded like. Where did peacocks even come from? The bittern was still playing, but the tune was all a muddle, a bit like his thoughts.

Smooth hands gripped his from across the table. He followed the coppery hands up to banded wrists, further along up to a gorgeous face. “Let’s dance!” Katrie’s dark eyes sparkled mischievously. He grinned again. That sounded wonderful! The Cairhienin rose to her feet effortless, only needing to put a single hand against the table. Rav pushed off with both hands, and the table rocked precariously. Not very well built. He wasn’t going drinking in this barn again.

Amusement flashed across her features as the table groaned in response to Rav shoving off of it. “Easy there, Muscles,” she teased. “It didn’t insult your lineage either.” Rav rewarded her with another grin.

Navigating through the maze of table legs and chairs and actual legs was no easy feat, but somehow, between the both of them, the Accepted and the Shienaran Ji emerged finally at the area that had been set aside for dancing. Their shins and toes were relatively unscathed, though the night was still young. Or something like that anyway. Katrie found her thoughts amusing and wondered whether or not to share them with Rav. She turned, but the world kept spinning long after she had stopped. Before she could lose her balance and topple over headlong into a nearby table, she felt splayed fingers on her back, gently easing her upright again.

“Thanks,” she grinned at Rav, not fully understanding the way he looked back at her. “Come on,” she said instead of asking after it, her mind bubbling with warmth and… she didn’t know what else. This… it was nice though. Infinitely better than feeling as if jagged pieces of glass were wedged inside of her mind. There were other pairs dancing around them, and even to Katrie’s befuddled mind, it was clear that no two were dancing in the same fashion. She shrugged inwardly, not caring one way or another. This was no grand ball… She grabbed Rav’s hands and pulled him closer. Definitely not a grand ball; this was something better.

He was reluctant at first, Katrie recognizing that he felt self-conscious by the way his brows had lowered, but a few well timed smiles, a cajoling touch or two, and soon Rav was spinning her around. It did absolutely nothing to help her already swimming head, but the sense of wild abandon made her laugh and she didn’t care if she wound up outside later on emptying up her guts, so long as this moment did not stop. She didn’t want it to end.

Her breath come out in a rush as they finally stopped, Katrie breathing rapidly. Her cheeks felt hot, the burn of alcohol and exertion staining coppery skin red. The Accepted and Ji were mere inches apart and she found herself peering up at Rav through long lashes. “See? That wasn’t so bad, right?”

“No, not bad at all.” A wide smile grew on the Shienaran’s face. That had been quite a lark indeed.

He watched her for a few moments, considering what thoughts lay behind that smile. He knew what thoughts lay behind his. I really don’t care why she came out tonight, but by the Creator I’m glad she’s here with me. Maybe this problem with Dax could be mended without too much bother. There had to be a simple answer to it. Aes Sedai were really smart. He just had to approach the right one.

People were moving around them, forming up for another dance. The bittern was playing something that Rav half remembered from childhood. Something to do with willows? He couldn’t recall the whole name. A slight cough, and Rav remembered that he was still holding on to Katrie quite tightly. “Another dance?” she asked in that melodious Cairhienin voice.

He was already nodding when a lucid thought bubbled to the surface. “Have a seat. You need to do something first.” She raised an eyebrow questioningly, and he answered it with a kiss to her cheek. Well, he aimed for her cheek; he may have ended up kissing her earlobe. He wasn’t too sure. She still had a smile on her face, and she accepted with a “As you say, muscles.”

A couple of minutes later, and he had two more glasses in hand. One was a full pint of cider, for him. He planted the tumbler of clear liquid in front of her. Again, that questioning look, but he got himself settled and had a sip of his pint before answering. “You were flailing around a bit out there. You need something in you that’ll settle you down.” He grinned, although this time he wasn’t sure what was so funny. He shook his head mirthfully. “Drink your water.”

Her nose wrinkled at him when Katrie realized that Rav had kept the cider for himself. She most certainly did not flail. She could smell the fizzy aroma from here and what was in his mug was not in hers. Well that was hardly fair. She reached for whatever it was that had Rav set before her, however, the beginnings of a pout on her lips.

“Drink your water.”

The breath left her body in a violent push, hissing through clenched teeth. The world expanded painfully for a moment, Katrie stilling as memory rose, unbidden, smashing through the flimsy barriers she had put up, before contracting just as quickly. Drink your water, love, a familiar voice echoed, and with it, came horrible, blistering clarity. No… no, this was not what she wanted. She wanted to forget… not remember more. Light, why couldn’t she forget? It had been another tavern… like this… a night… like this… and… No!

Katrie pushed back from the table with both hands, sending the chair flying backwards as she jumped to her feet abruptly. Dilated pupils looked up at Rav without actually seeing him, her face panicked as she glanced around wildly. Voices and noises crashed together, the alcohol-infused memories of tonight and that night twisting together. She smelled warmth. She remembered smelling lemon and mint. An unexpected brush of lips against her earlobe. The memory of teasing fingers against her mouth. Blue-grey eyes. Blue eyes. Quicker and quicker these images came, her body responding against her will to them. The Cairhienin Accepted recoiled from the sights, the sounds, the colour that played again in her mind and bolted.

She wasn’t sure how she managed to get outside, but she gulped down the cool night air as if it were a potent drink, her hands balling into fists. Katrie pressed them hard against her stomach, the pressure in her head forcing her to double over. She was burning, her skin feeling as if it was stretched too tight. Brown eyes squeezed shut and she tried to control her shallow breathing by inhaling deeply through her nose. The part of her mind that was connected to the Tairen spiked at her distress, and with that awareness came sullen hostility. Katrie felt herself responding in kind, both her and the Gaidin’s emotions amplifying the other. Her chest hurt. And with it, came the sudden, horrible need to make Dax hurt.

A hand clapped heavily onto her shoulder and without any conscious or coherent thought, she turned to face whomever it was, leading with a fist. Her hand thudded off a muscled shoulder, and she gasped as she recognized Rav’s face. The Shienaran Ji’s face was quizzical, blue-grey eyes glancing slowly from her face, to her clenched fist, and then to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted out quickly, horror quickly finding a place among the twisting tower of rapidly fraying emotions. She should not have come out to drink tonight.

Before Rav could answer, there came a sharp, piercing whistle somewhere off to her left. She turned to look, blinking as the limited circle of lamplight hindered her vision more than it actually helped. Katrie couldn’t see anything, but she felt Rav tense next to her. She glanced back over at him, brows lowering slightly.

Ravak turned to face the source of the jeering. A group of three men, maybe only boys, were loitering nearby. He could see the one in front who had done the whistling, a youth without any hair on his chin, but with a fancy enough red coat to give him the confidence he needed. Smart men, Rav thought, don’t try to attract the attention of channellers. Somehow that once again brought the foolish grin to his face. Guess I’m not a smart man then.

His internal revelry was interrupted by the youth. “Lass, how abouts you come with us, and leave this drunken lout to his ale? The night’s new yet!” Not the worst line he had heard, but-

“Oi!” He made his voice has hard as he could, “who are you to call me a lout?” That resulted in laughter from the three boys. His tongue felt a little off. So it was possible he had slurred a little, maybe, but they should still respect the uniform. Maybe they couldn’t see it right. He walked uneasily towards them. Have a good, hard look boys, then be on your way.

There was a boisterous cheering as he moved towards them, blue-grey eyes swimming slightly within their sockets. He could make out some of the features of the other two boys, concealed somewhat in shadow. Their leader, Fancy Coat, took a couple of steps forward as well. “You looking for a fight, ginge?”

Thoughts drifted slowly in his mind, out under the moonshadows. “Ginge?” It took a few more moments before he latched onto what they were referring to. “You’re actually insulting my hair?”

Fancy Coat had a smirk on his face. “Yeah, ginge. Beardy ginge.” The tone was goading. “What’re you going to do about it? You can barely stand upright. Have a seat on the ground, and we’ll look after the lady.” Rav blinked in startlement. Was this really what Hama Valon was like at night, a town full of idiots? The youth gestured for his friends to move forward, but when he started to take a step in Katrie’s direction, Rav seized him by his lacy collar. The young face of the Hama Valoner stared back at him coolly. “You’re outnumbered. Maybe you should graciously admit defeat?”

The Shienaran’s muscles moved before thought directed them. He released Fancy Coat’s collar, snapping it back to his waist. At the same time, his right fist jabbed towards the boy’s jaw. With a satisfying crack, the red clad youth dropped to the cobblestones underneath. He cried with a wail, until Rav’s boot met the boy’s stomach. Even though the daze that seemed to blur the world and his thinking, the Ji’alantin knew the boy was suitably incapacitated. Two hits lad. I hit you, and you hit the floor. He rolled his shoulders as he turned slowly to see what the other two boys were up to.

Dark eyes were perfectly round.

Katrie had never actually seen anyone fall down like that before. The boy… had simply crumpled, as if the bones in his body had suddenly turned to jelly. Her hand, the one that had accidentally hit Rav, was splayed against the rough outer wall of the tavern, slippered feet moving slowly as she crept closer to the twitching body on the cobblestones.

She spared a quick glance up, gaze lingering on Rav’s back. She bit down on her bottom lip as the noise in her head swelled into a deafening chorus, Dax responding reluctantly to something that she felt. What did she feel? She didn’t know - she couldn’t explain it. But it reached out and grasped her head with vice-like intensity, devouring everything else in its wake. It wanted her full attention, demanded her complete surrender. Katrie trembled beneath it, not understanding, even as the Tairen seemed to. What she felt from him was… recognition.

Everything seemed… slower… as if she was moving too fast, her breath leaving moisture upon her lips as she stopped next to the boy. He had a fancy, pretty coat, she noticed with odd detachment. She felt no fear, Katrie confident that the Shienaran Ji would not have left the boy unattended if Rav thought that there was still risk. Still, she didn’t think that Rav meant for her to get so close, but she couldn’t help herself. The toe of her white slipper peeked out from beneath the banded hem of her skirts and she gave the prone body a nudge. A wheeze answered her, followed by the most pathetic noise she had ever heard.

An inappropriate rush of giddiness cascaded over her, a small part of her cowering from the emotion. What was wrong with her? Why did she feel this way? It was the drink… it had to be. Katrie stared down at the boy, her eyes tracing over the meticulously done scrollwork and embroidery. Lace. She snorted loudly. She could remember a time in Cairhienin when the latest fashions had involved lace. Her teeth gritted together and she felt a strange thread of something savage straighten her spine. The fop had insulted Rav, had whistled at her… and he had the audacity to do it… while wearing lace.

That set off something in her mind, shredding away the layer of numbed shock. Incandescent rage poured through her, sweeping her off her feet, knocking away any lingering confusion. Something had flared deep in her chest when her fist had connected ineffectively against Rav’s shoulder - something instinctual and visceral… Katrie closed her eyes. It felt as if she was coming apart.

A hand grasped her ankle, a wet gurgle of noise reaching her ears. Surprise could not find purchase, brown eyes flat as she opened them again to look down at the boy with the stupid lace. He was… her brows lowered. He looked… scared. She heard herself snort softly, the sound coming as if from a great distance away. The Accepted studied the boy for a long moment, head canting ever-so-slightly to the side. Whatever it was that she was feeling, she felt as if it filled her to the brim, the skin on the backs of her hands tingling unpleasantly from it. Whatever it was, Dax recognized it. That alone should have frightened her, but Katrie found that she had no room left in her to care.

She took a delicate step away, breaking the boy’s hold. Her foot drew back and she kicked him as hard as she could, the delight that howled through her making her dizzy.

Rav shoved the two boys away with a hand each, tired of their ineffective strikes. His arms and chest would have bruises later, but he didn’t really feel anything at the moment. He could take either of these youths alone, but together they were troublesome. Not dangerous, but actually knocking either of them out would take some time, and he really just wanted to get back to Katrie.

He shook his sleeves in an ill-practised fashion, and after a moment, a blade shone in each of them. Not proper daggers precisely, throwing daggers, but in this light and in the hands of the Ji they were just as dangerous.

“Run along,” Rav growled. He turned one of the daggers, gripping the blade with thumb and forefinger, ready to throw if required. Stubbles, the oldest of the three lads, puffed up his chest in defiance, no doubt bitter from the black eye he’d received. The other boy, Ugly, didn’t look as willing to stand his ground, and tugged at Stubbles’ arm pleadingly. Rav made a dismissive gesture with one hand, steel glinting in the moonlight, and both boys wisely made the decision to leave.

Slipping the daggers back into his uniform, he staggered back towards Katrie and the idiot that had started all of this. Katrie’s face held a pleasurable smile, but there was a genuine hint of wickedness in her eyes. He moved close enough to hold onto one of her arms, and pulled her apart from the red coated heap on the ground. “Are you alright?” he asked, brushing back the strands of hair that had fallen over her face.