The Grey Tower

Cassie Majere The red-haired young woman wove through the alleyways and back streets of Hama Valon without so much as a difficulty. A cowl obscured her face but a pair of amethyst eyes were obvious whenever light caught them.

It was also obvious that she didn’t want to attract too much attention, or wasn’t worth taking advantage of that night. Whenever an errant or obviously belligerent drunk man looked or stepped in her direction, the girl flashed a full-lipped smile and gripped the long knife at her side.

Even the blindest man could see she knew how to properly handle the weapon with some skill and wasn’t afraid to use it, at least not on the surface.

Dressed in a simple dress and blouse of hunters’ green meant for hunting, with a brown cloak over it, she looked like any other simple hunter or merchant woman. No one saw her slip away from her true destination from the Novice Hall.

Cassie Majere needed a night away for herself. To just be … herself. Just a few months in as a Novice and she was drowning in self-control and trying to grip her ability to channel without having to succumb to emotional outbursts.

And she needed a night where she could forget about the last time she had to use the knife in defense.

The Whitecloak, a boy no older than her, stood over her twin brother with a bloodied sword … her brother’s blood … he was about to bring the hilt smashing down on Coren’s silver-haired head, mussed up from the weeks of running when she shouted her brother’s name.

The Whitecloak turned, a dull look in his eyes, almost devoid of emotion or a soul, licked his lips and took a step forward. Cassie’s knife found itself lodged in his side, hitting the lung through a small gap in his armor. It was a lucky blow. The boy dropped his sword in surprise as Cassie ripped the knife from the body. He scrambled for a knife at his side, but Cassie, small woman that she was, took advantage of all the lessons her oldest brother had taught her and promptly kicked the Whitecloak in the groin. As the man doubled over in pain, the knife slit the man’s throat like parchment.

The look in his eyes was shock … and fear as he died.

The dream still haunted her, nearly as much as the man with the gold-green eyes did, or the nightmares stemming from the Whitecloaks’ pursuit all the way to Hama Valon’s walls. She and the Lady Ellessya, a Seanchan girl who resided at Walker Manor, were being escorted by her uncle Sojin when Whitecloaks gave chase.

Then there was the need to restrain herself … a thing that went against her very nature. Even growing up the daughter of a lord in Tar Valon, she was free to express herself, but any strong burst of emotion resulted in her channeling. A promise from the Mistress of Novices to remedy that with daily doses of forkroot prompted her need to learn restraint. As such Cassie Majere was beginning to act more and more like what her mother expected of her firstborn daughter.

Ellessya had wanted to come with her, more out of curiosity than anything else, but Cassie told the ebony Seanchan beauty that she needed time to herself.

She needed to drink herself into a stupor so that the dreams would go away. So she wouldn’t have to see those eyes staring back her, asking her why.

Cassie slipped into one of the more low-key taverns in the town, in an area that most channelers were known not to frequent because the flaming bartender had foul breath that could fell a Seanchan to’raken from a hundred feet in the air. That and they had to pay for their drinks, like everyone else.

The place was busy this night, most of the folks just merchants passing through on their way from Camden Corelle or from Arad Doman, or farmers from the fields wanting to wind down after a long and fruitful harvest.

A few people looked up, saw the young woman as she drew back her cowl and got a few approving looks from men and women alike. Had she been wearing that flaming ill-fitted Novice gown, she would have been proposed to, given how it accentuated her curvy yet athletic build. Or that fact peoples’ eyes would be looking below her neck for most of the evening.

She went to the bar (thankfully not staffed by the odorous owner) and placed an order for black whiskey. The man raised an eyebrow as if to inquire why a young woman of her size would need but she slipped two silver marks onto the bar. “The bottle,” she murmured. The man nodded, pointed toward another, bigger burlier man armed with a heavy metal-studded cudgel and recommended that if anyone gave her trouble when she became too drunk, the bloody oaf’s brains would see the light of the tavern room.

What could Cassie do but smile, genuinely touched that there was a bartender who wasn’t looking to hit on her. And one who actually met her gaze instead of wandering as he poured the first glass and handed her the bottle.

“And the knife, young miss,” the man said kindly. “Keep it in its sheath or my friend will toss you out on your cute rear.”

Again she smiled, downed the whiskey, and murmured, “I’ll use my knee before I use my knife.” And with that turned to find a table against a wall.

… and as she set her bottle down on a table she thought was not taken, saw the ebony face and gorgeous brown eyes of her roommate. One option was to go and greet the Seanchan beauty, but she wanted to avoid any chatter about men or clothing (Light, but that was all she could talk about, and Cassie knew she was smarter than some simpering Caemlyn courtier; she did better than Cassie in almost every class not linked to the One Power). More than anything, Ellessya was trying to evoke a response from the young Majere out of concern that she was bottling up her emotions. Cassie didn’t feel like sharing.

She took a strong pull from the whiskey bottle and quickly decided on a second course of action. She looked around and acted blindly in her movements. Perhaps it was the whiskey, perhaps it was the desperation, but she launched herself against the first woman she could find … a gorgeous young black-haired woman taller than she was. It was this or the big burly guard with the cudgel, and given her preference for companionship, it was an easy decision.

She pushed the other woman against the wall and immediately pulled her head down into a deep kiss. Without hesitation. Her hands tugged at the shirt, and she kept the kiss lingering for a moment before she parted and her amethyst eyes looked up in desperation.

“The Seanchan, the one that just came in, is she gone …” Cassie asked. “I …” If there was one thing Cassie was trying to avoid, it was the inane chattering of her roommate and her attempts to open up. When no response came from the taller woman, Cassie immediately kissed her again, just as deeply until it was indicated that Ellessya had left.

She broke away, breathing hard, and looked up at her unfortunate victim in the attempt to escape notice. After all, the best distraction was to be so blatant about something in a place like this.

“I’m Cassie,” she murmured. “Cassie Majere. I’m … sorry about … share a drink with me?”

Paks Liard It was another night in Hama Valon, and another night with the drink. Paks could be herself within the walls of a pub or inn. She didn't go out nightly, but she went out frequently, and often enough that the barkeep at this particular Tavern knew her. She'd entertained his guests with amusing stories of her past and earned a free ale or three.

The potential for free ale lured her here once again, as did some of the lasses that seemed to frequent the establishment. She had been flirting with one green-eyed beauty for much of the night before her brute of a beau walked in. Paks might have considered flirting with both, but the man made it very clear he had no intentions of sharing.

Moving on from their table, Paks found herself intercepted by a smaller fiery haired woman who promptly pinned her against the wall and kissed her. Eyes wide with surprise at first, Paks places her hands on the woman’s hips and did what she did best…rolled with it.

“The Seanchan, the one that just came in...is she gone? I…” the auburn haired beauty asked. Breathless and still somewhat stunned, albeit pleasantly, Paks didn't get a chance to answer before she found herself being kissed once again.

Never thought I'd thank the light for Seanchan, Paks thought to herself as her hands slid up the woman's back. She thoroughly enjoyed the moment but tapped the woman on the shoulder when the Seanchan seemed to leave. She found herself somewhat breathless as the woman broke the kiss, and couldn't help but smirk.

“Well hello, Cassie Majere. I am Paks Liard and no need to apologize if you are sharing what's in that bottle,” her smirk was playful. “I recognize that woman from the Tower. She is a Novice and one of many who fee a good use of their free time is to watch those in the Warder Yards train.

“Would that mean then, Cassie Majere, that you are also from the Tower?” Paks asked. She was in her Drin uniform so it was quite obvious where she was from. She nodded to a small table near them and took a seat, “And if so, why did you not want her to see you?”

Cassie was still a bit flustered over her own actions, and more than a little heated. Her amethyst eyes were on the blue-eyed beauty’s lips, watching as they moved and words came out of them. She also watched the other woman’s hands ... Light and flaming grace they had been ...

And then the Novice noticed that the other woman was in a Drin’s uniform. She wasn’t even hiding the fact that she was outside, in a place where it was heavily frowned upon. Light, but Cassie knew if the Mistress of Novices found out, she would be ...

For this one night ... she thought to herself. Another set of eyes flashed in front of her and she wanted to shudder.

Instead, she smiled coyly and murmured, “Aye, she’s from the Tower, and one who does engage in that nonsense of watching.” Her amethyst eyes danced. “I’m more inclined to participate and get a good handful.”

She took a seat near Paks ... such a strange name. She sounded Mayener, perhaps Tairen, but the latter was doubtful given this woman’s not-so-shy approach to life.

The Novice’s only question was what was underneath that uniform and how quickly could it be removed?

Before she could prompt for a second glass, the barkeep placed a second bottle on the table with a kind, thankful smile and a wink toward Cassie. Perhaps because she didn’t do something so foolish, perhaps she gave the crowd more of an incentive to drink, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was that he planted a smaller bottle of a much finer whiskey on the table and when she reached for coin, he was gone.

But Paks Liard’s question made her blink and forget about that. Instead, she simply poured two glasses of the black whiskey. Its smell was strong enough that one didn’t need much more than a drop to set this place ablaze.

Cassie knocked it back in one go without a thought, or a reaction.

“Yes, I’m from the Tower,” she murmured. She was supposed to be in the White Tower, home with her family, her twin brother ... they should have never gone to House Tyeon ... and that boy would still be alive. “And my would-be stalker is concerned enough about me that she tries to evoke an emotional response because I’m too ... tight-lipped and controlled when I’m in the Tower. And she is more ... traditional in her choice of interests.” Light, but it would be easier to toss the sheets with the Seanchan and keep her at bay for a while, but she was doomed.

The truth was, she was on the edge of being a nervous wreck. If Ellessya continued her attempts to anger her, Cassie would snap and tear into her roommate.

She placed her glass on the table and smiled very mischievously. “But Paks Liard, the question you should be asking is why your lips aren’t on mine?” One might question whether the whiskey was impairing the Novice’s judgment, but there was one basic fact: she was sober, and it would take a lot of whiskey to knock her down.

All she wanted was to let loose ... and not dream. And Light help her, find out what was underneath that uniform Paks wore. It had been too long and the flaming minx of a Gaidin she was interested was off at Camden Corelle with some Aes Sedai named Sadie, or Sadria or something, and the Novice cursed her for that.

Right now, however, Cassie was much more interested in finding company for the night. And as she looked at Paks, she knew this was the right find. The only question was how to get her clothes off.

Paks Liard

Cassie's amethyst eyes flared as it accepting a challenge. Obviously Paks was a woman who flirted and obviously enjoyed the more carnal delights that life offered up, but at the same time she seemed ... not so keen on ruining the moment.

Cassandrya Majere on the other hand wanted to make every moment count, wanted someone kissing her, and more than anything, wanted to find a way to banish these nightmares and the image of a man she had killed.

And she was unapologetic in whichever venue that took place.

"If you so desire, Drin Paks, but if I would have my way, I'd see what you are under those clothes before the sun breaks, and your name is on my lips as if I were calling to the Creator herself," she murmured as she poured another round of drinks. Her amethyst eyes flashed up past the dark-haired beauty and she saw him ... the young Whitecloak, his throat slit open, his dull eyes asking why.

She immediately downed the glass of whiskey, unphased by the strong drink, and poured herself another. She focused on the Drin and said simply, "Tell me about the woman I'm going to take to bed tonight."

Paks Liard

A slow smile crawled over Cassie’s lips as she listened and poured round after round. The smile was not so much the result of drunken amusement but sheer curiosity.

And it almost made her forget why she had snuck out of the flaming Tower and avoided her roommate in the first place. The young Majere was still too far from being drunk enough to not dream. It took too much these days, it seemed. And beside, the jug of oosquai she kept in her trunk was empty.

“So you were foisted upon Master Ravak’s doorstep because you proved much better in between the sheets than a man, and he took offense?” she mused as she cradled her drink in her hand.

Her amethyst eyes twinkled at what might await her this night. Perhaps she would not get any sleep, and Light alone knew she could use such a distraction after so long a drought. The last time she had any fun was just after coming to the Tower, and only then with a pair of trainees not much older than her.

And then the laid out the conditions of a night together and Cassie set down her empty glass, even as the other woman leaned forward to pushed her empty glass forward for another drink. If there was one thing to be said about Cassandrya Majere, it was that she was impulsive -- and quick.

She reached out, grabbed Paks by the front of her shirt and laid a searing kiss on the woman’s lips. It was quick, passionate and forceful to the point it almost hurt for Cassie break away. She pulled back and released Paks but not before whispering, “Whatever bed we share tonight, Paks Liard, I intend to keep you there only as long as possible before either of us needs to be back in our respective roles. If I wanted a permanent fixture in my life, I’d still be in the Tower instead of her tonight.”

Cassie nipped the other woman’s lips playfully before she sat down and poured another round of drinks. She raised her glass in a toast and smiled wickedly. “To a night of drinking and and no clothes.”

Paks Liard

Spoiler: show

I'm quite happy to leave the night to the reader's imagination.

Cassie's lips curved in a coy smile, as if suddenly playing shy. As she polished off her latest round, however, her amethyst eyes told a different story. They flashed in the low light with a predatory gleam and for a few brief seconds seemed to dance with gold flecks in their depths.

"Why would I move when I could enjoy the view," the young Novice said as she watched Paks saunter off. Light, but it was a nice view at that.

She licked her lips, suddenly feeling her face flush with anticipation. Light, but this was actually happening. And here she thought the drin was going to yank her about and leave her frustrated in the end, like other women had done with her.

She watched as her companion for the night pulled her charms with the barkeep. She definitely liked this woman’s style. When she came back with the key, Cassie already had the unopened bottle of whiskey that had been placed in front of her in hand and only nodded with a sly, devious smile.

Up the stairs they went, and before Paks could open the door, the Novice planted one last passionate kiss in full view of perhaps the four people passing them by in the small corridor, playfully nipping the drin’s lips before she pulled away.

And then she was pulled into the room.

Spoiler: show

OOC: And folks can use their imagination.

~ ~

The next morning

It wasn’t even light out when Cassie pulled did up her trousers and pulled her cloak over her shoulders. Her head ached and she had bags under her eyes the size of miniature tea saucers, and was likely still a little drunk from the previous night, but that didn’t stop her from smiling at the still passed out Paks lying under the covers.

Light, but the woman had been amazing, and true to Cassie’s word, Paks’ name had been on her lips more than once, and perhaps with more reverence than if she spoke the Creator’s name. The Whitecloaks could capture her and put her to the question and she’d spit that confession in their face.

But all things came to an end. She touched the amethyst pendant around her neck, perhaps the only thing she had of her father in this flaming city to remember him, or her family as a whole, by in this flaming bloody place. While she might have wanted to stay and perhaps even wake the trainee up in a most unconventional and pleasurable way, Cassandrya Majere knew when it was best to walk away.

If there was one useful thing that came out of this night besides passion and fun, it was that she didn’t dream. For one brief night, she had some peace.

She leaned over and kissed the still snoring Paks lightly on the lips and whispered, “It’s too bad either of us wanted something more, Paks Liard.” Her amethyst eyes glittered, and again the gold flecks hidden in their depths flashed, albeit for only a second. “We could have been so great together, and having you in my bed many a night would have been well worth the risk of being caught.”

And then she was out the door, only leaving behind a folded letter and many empty bottles of whiskey and wine.

As she pulled up her cowl, prepared to slip back into the Tower grounds, she lowered her eyes, avoiding the accusing glare of the wraith in front of her, the one bearing the face of the Whitecloak’s life she had taken so many months ago half a world away.

He is not real, was all she thought as she left behind the inn and sleeping drin.

~ ~ ~

[fancy]The letter[/fancy]

Paks Liard,
If there was ever a gift the Creator bestowed upon this earth in this Age, it is you. Because of you, I didn’t dream. Because of you, I could sleep. We’ll likely not see each other for some time, if ever again, so thank you.
Deepest pleasure,
Cassandrya Majere

Paks Liard