The Talk (Attn: Lugh)

[Craig]

Ravak Darrow

Contrary to almost all appearances, Ravak t'Sha'hal Darrow could be in a good mood. His smile was hard to see behind his shaggy beard but it was there. Passing by the offices of the Warder Council, relief filled him more than regret. He'd served well, for the most part, but he was much happier to simply be 'a Gaidin' at his point in his life than anything else. Finding love and happiness was a huge contributor to that.

Leaving Ria's office - specifically the Mistress of Training's office, for she too had role-swapped - he found his latest duty as something to look forward to. Maybe in his younger years, he would have begrudged giving a Ji'val 'the talk', but with several bonds and decades until his belt, it was good to share his knowledge and experience. Someone will have to pass it along when I'm gone. He didn't have a toe in the grave yet, but there was grey hair infiltrating his fiery mane. And I'm going to be a grandfather. Okay, maybe that did kill off his happy mood a bit.

Beron Faim's room was easy to find. After all, Ravak had been the Master of Training for... He struggled to remember. 'Long enough' was sufficiently accurate. He rapped his knuckles against the door before adjusting his fancloak so it was properly fanned out behind him. He cut an imposing figure, and that was before you factored in the training, his heron-marked blades and the golden tattoo swirling around his forearm. As Gaidin he had the right to just walk in, but he had no desire to catch Beron in the midst of doing... something unsavoury. He was here to talk about bonds, and preferably nothing else.

[Lugh]

Beron

Beron was uncharacteristicly in his room for a free chime, he had recently been told he would be on rotation to the Citadel soon, his previous experience helping the Mistress of Training’s reluctance to allow learning ranks to depart the Grey Tower.

As such he had been trying to finish an assignment that had been vexing him for several weeks. A Brown Aes Sedai had been teaching a class on the varying skirmishes and sieges that had befallen the Grey Tower over it’s centuries, and she had wanted an essay on the response each attack had answered with.

It was dry work, if at least interesting, but Beron was struggling to turn his ink blotted notes into a sheet of clean, presentable writing. When he heard the knock on his door, he remembered quickly that there had been mention of a Gaidin coming to speak with him. “One moment,” he called and loosely organized the sheets on his desk, keeping the top ones spread out so they could dry.

Glancing around he was glad to see his room was neat, the desk and a couple of yellow Dahlias the only clutter. Opening the door to greet the Gaidin, he was shocked to see that it was Ravak standing there. He was something of a living legend in the trainee classes, especially with the fine blade he wore and the strange coiling tattoo Beron spotted on his arm.

“Peace welcome you Gaidin, please come in and have a seat. Or if you prefer we can walk?” Beron asked politely and nodded as the Gaidin motioned for the chairs. Beron followed Ravak and offered him the better of the two chairs, though with the workmanship of the Grey Tower there was little difference between the two.

“I am sorry I don’t have tea or anything to offer, I have been meaning to go to Hama Valon for a few touches to my room, but always seem to end up training instead,” Beron chuckled as he realized he had yet to have a single person to his Ji’val chambers.

“Thank you for taking the time to discuss with me. With my Test past me, and my duties at the Citadel beginning, I had asked the trainers for advice on preparing for the bond as well,” Beron said as he took a seat as well, eager to have a chance to talk with a man of Ravak’s stature.

[Craig]

Ravak

Irritatingly, Ravak found himself inspecting the Ji'val's room before he halted himself. There was enough on his plate without needing to add 'punishing learning ranks' to the list. As it was, his casual inspection told nothing amiss. The flowers were an odd touch. Ravak arranged his cloak so he didn't sit on it, instead bundling it up behind his back. His scabbards neatly rested on either side of the chair.

Ravak smiled, sitting back. "Preparing for the bond," he mused. "You make it sound like it's a thing, like a sword or a bow. The bond is... It's a relationship, first and foremost. You ever been in a relationship Beron? Are you in a relationship?" he asked pointedly. He posed the question because that was something he'd punish the Ji'val for. A moment later, Rav realised he still didn't know who is unborn grandchild's father was. He set the thought aside a moment later, otherwise he was going to start suspecting every man he came across.

Rav cupped his hands under his chin. "What is it about the bond that you wish to know, or is your interest purely because you've been asked to ask about it? After all, this is the Grey Tower. If you don't wish to bond, you don't need to."

[Lugh]

Beron

Beron felt his hand clench tightly when Ravak settled down, using his cloak as a backrest in the hard wooden chair. There was a tension to his movements, and Beron could see his gaze rest upon the dahlias quizzically .

Once he had settled his scabbard and cloak on the chair, Ravak turned to Beron. His gaze was frank and measuring, and Beron knew a vast gulf of experience lay between them. As his question about bonding was the foremost thing on his mind, at first he missed the question about relationships. Missed until he noticed Ravak’s pointed gaze and felt the fierce weight of a Gaidin’s full assessment.

Light he knows about Isla. Someone must have seen us in the Garden, Beron thought for a moment of pure panic, his eyes drifting to the flowers he kept as a reminder of the Gardens. With a Gaidin of Ravak’s stature, and his own sense of borderlander honour, it never occurred to Beron to lie. He had decided to pursue Isla, her friendship and heart and he would not sully that by acting like a man caught in a tryst with a milkmaid.

Steeling himself, he noted that Ravak had not mentioned her by name, and so he carefully replied, “Yes Gaidin. I am in a relationship, I am with someone special whom I care for deeply, and I have shared those feelings with her. But that is not why I inquired about the bond.”

“The Saldaean army worked with many channelers in my time, and I was fortunate enough to work with bonded and unbonded alike. I have seen and heard the advantages that sharing a bond affords the Warder, and while I know there are drawbacks, it seems like every bonded pair makes the Grey Tower stronger. It has been my plan since before I arrived,” Beron said simply as he waited for the other shoe to fall.

[Craig]

Ravak

Wait what? Sure, he'd asked the question because it needed to be asked, but to brazenly acknowledge it and defend it?

Ravak's good mood evaporated like snow in the Blight. He leaned forwards in his chair, his voice acquiring the quality of gravel. "I'm sorry, Ji'val. Did you just admit to breaking one of the cardinal rules of this place and then have the audacity to try and brush past it like it was nothing?" At some point growling had given way to shouting, and the Gaidin had risen to his feet. "You don't get to choose if you're in a relationship or not. You're not, starting now." His hands moved down to the pommels of his swords, as they did when he was focused.

"Now I get it," Rav growled rancorously. "You're from Saldaea, you probably got a lot of action in hay bales with frisky farmgirls. Well that's the past. The moment you entered these halls, you took an oath. Now if you can't keep your pants from being caught around your ankles, there's a whole world out there for you to stick your tool into."

Ravak gripped his temples with his right hand as the worst thought came to mind. "Please tell me you haven't done anything stupid with this girl."

[Lugh]

Beron

As Ravak’s anger rose, Beron kept in his chair, doing his best to keep his temper. He had expected anger, and while part of him bristled at someone; who was not the Mistress of Training, dressing him down, Beron took that as part of his due.

“I'm sorry, Ji'val. Did you just admit to breaking one of the cardinal rules of this place and then have the audacity to try and brush past it like it was nothing?" shouted Ravak as he paced in the small room. Beron attempted to answer him, but the other man stormed ahead.

"You don't get to choose if you're in a relationship or not. You're not, starting now." His hands moved down to the pommels of his swords, and Beron stood as well. He would not sit and be dressed down with the threat of a weapon in his own room. Even in his building anger, he knew the skills of Ravak Gaidin would easily outmatch his, but Beron could feel his Saldaean temper burning.

"Now I get it," Rav growled rancorously. "You're from Saldaea, you probably got a lot of action in hay bales with frisky farmgirls. Well that's the past. The moment you entered these halls, you took an oath. Now if you can't keep your pants from being caught around your ankles, there's a whole world out there for you to stick your tool into."

“You will not speak ill of her in my presence,” Beron stated, his anger spilling over into protectiveness. His voice was steel, Grey Tower or not, he would not allow it, not after what Isla had already overcame to be here.

“Despite what you’ve heard, Saldaea does not grow naked farmgirls on trees. And while it’s none of your business, we have not been foolish as you put it,” spat Beron angrily.

“I know I made oaths, and I know there were rules broken. I will pay the penance, but the Test that earned me my coat showed me service to the Grey Tower requires more than a weapon. I will not pretend this was a dalliance, penance or no,” ended Beron, his own voice raised to the volume Ravak had reached. His hands were clenched and his cheeks flushed crimson with anger.

[Craig]

Ravak

Ravak growled. He wanted to pin Beron to the wall and forcefully remind the Ji'val that he didn't get to choose which rules he could break. Fortunately, even in his rage Ravak realised assaulting a Ji'val was well out-of-line, regardless of what said Ji'val had done. As least he didn't do anything regrettable.

"You're bloody lucky it's only a penance you're getting. Do you have any sort of idea what sort of mistakes occur when--?" Rav cut off, shaking his head. When he continued lecturing, his voice was firm but calm. "These rules are in place for a reason. I've personally seen too many lives ruined or destroyed because people like you thought they knew better. And before you say anything, I don't care what your reasons are. I don't care if she's the love of your life, your childhood sweetheart, or just has an ample bosom to bury your face in. You said it yourself: your service is to the Grey Tower, not to whomever you may end up bonding if you ever earn your fancloak."

Ravak rubbed a palm across his mouth, removing spittle from his lips and beard. His fury was gone, although his annoyance was plain to see and hear. "Am I understood?"

[Lugh]

Beron

Beron could feel the tension easing in the room, although he was unsure whether it was something he had said or something the Gaidin in front of him had decided. As the shouting became heated conversation, Beron took a deep breath and unclenched his fists.

Staring out the window as Ravak continued to pace, Beron listened to the tirade. "You're bloody lucky it's only a penance you're getting. Do you have any sort of idea what sort of mistakes occur when--?" Rav cut off, shaking his head. When he continued lecturing, his voice was firm but calm. "These rules are in place for a reason. I've personally seen too many lives ruined or destroyed because people like you thought they knew better. And before you say anything, I don't care what your reasons are. I don't care if she's the love of your life, your childhood sweetheart, or just has an ample bosom to bury your face in. You said it yourself: your service is to the Grey Tower, not to whomever you may end up bonding if you ever earn your fancloak."

Ravak rubbed a palm across his mouth, removing spittle from his lips and beard. His annoyance was plain to see and hear. "Am I understood?"

Beron had realized there was nothing to be gained by trying to interject when Ravak clearly had a point he felt needed to be hammered into Beron’s head. And so he kept his mouth shut, kept his breathing controlled and backed himself down from the cliff’s edge.

Beron may not have fallen into haystacks filled with buxom women, but no one lived on a farm without a decent understanding of the intricacies of pregnancy. He knew that were he to lie with Isla that would be a risk, but he had also never thought to press that while both were learning ranks.

Thinking of her, made him both frustrated and more receptive to Ravak’s words. Light what a tangle, he thought with a groan. His heart was a rolling mess of love, worry, anger and fear. He knew to continue to push Ravak would invite further anger and he also realized the Gaidin had no idea who he was involved with.

I will not forsake her, whatever his words I know my heart. And yet, I may be able to keep her studies progressing, I will most likely earn a fancloak well before her shawl, he thought to himself as he considered the fact many Aes Sedai took years to train. Knowing it would stain his honour, knowing he did not mean it deep in his bones, Beron ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Light forgive me, Beron thought as he answered coldly, “Yes Gaidin, you are understood.”

I will serve the penance, I will try to make up for my mistakes, but you weren’t there in the Garden. You don’t know what we shared, she is half of me now, Beron thought behind his purposely blanked face.

[Craig]

Ravak

Ravak glared at Beron for a bit, even after he was understood, letting his grey-blue eyes burrow deep into the Ji'val's skull. With a grunt, Ravak took a seat again on the chair, less caring about how his cloak was bundled up behind him. He wanted to do something proactive, but doling out punishments was no longer his prerogative.

"You'll report to the Mistress of Training after this, but for now, we've got a different conversation to have." Ravak pointed to Beron's chair, indicating the Saldaean should take a seat himself.

A different Saldaean was drawing Ravak's attention. Miahala's concern was clashing with his anger, making him mildly anxious. Not what he really needed, although he appreciated that someone cared.

"Advantages of the bond?" Rav asked gruffly. "How about the whole 'once you're bonded, that's you for life' clause? You think you like a woman because she's pretty and can dance, but once she reveals her true colours, you're screwed. Oh, and speaking about being screwed, if your Aes Sedai dies, you're as good as dead." Rav rubbed his top lip with the pad of his thumb. Anxiety made his words strike a bit too close to his heart.

He sighed, forcing himself to loosen up. Spreading his hands in a small sign of contrition, he asked: "Come on then, what's your real questions about the bond?"

[Lugh]

Beron

Beron had been weighed, inspected and stared at by a superior officer more than once in the Saldaean army, but none of the tough as nails veterans had a state quite like Ravak Gaidin. Beron stood, not willing to give the other man the satisfaction of acting like a boy caught swiping pies from the window sill. Let the other man stare at him till last bell if he wanted to, Beron would sweat and endure the awkward silence.

After a grunt, Ravak sat down forcefully on the chair, and once he was settled in place, Beron joined suit. The two men sitting once more, Beron was surprised when Ravak did not immediately march them down to the Mistress of Training’s office.


"You'll report to the Mistress of Training after this, but for now, we've got a different conversation to have." Ravak sternly commanded, and Beron nodded, “Of course Gaidin.”.

"Advantages of the bond?" Rav asked gruffly. "How about the whole 'once you're bonded, that's you for life' clause? You think you like a woman because she's pretty and can dance, but once she reveals her true colours, you're screwed. Oh, and speaking about being screwed, if your Aes Sedai dies, you're as good as dead." Rav rubbed his top lip with the pad of his thumb, his voice once more filled with frustration and disdain to Beron’s ears.

Clenching his jaw, Beron bit down the retort that came to mind, and schooled his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression. For a man who bears a Warder’s Bond, that seems like a strange sentiment. And you may have spent your Ji day’s chasing light skirts, but I can assure you I know the true colours. Maybe you should learn to know a woman first, then dance with her, Beron finished to himself as he remembered the afternoon spent with Isla curled in his arms, face blotchy from her tears.

Spreading his hands in a small sign of contrition, Ravak signed then asked: "Come on then, what's your real questions about the bond?"

Beron paused for a moment to clear his head. He wished he could clear the air of the anger that had threatened to overwhelm his room only moments ago. He was unsure of his opinion of Ravak, but he knew it was perhaps unfair to judge the man so harshly and he tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair as he cleared his mind.
“What you said earlier touched on one of my questions. If the death of a Warder’s Aes Sedai is as fatal as the whispers say, is the strength and stamina worth the trade? I know the Green Ajah often take multiple warders, so the advantages must outweigh the cost. But it is hard to separate rumour from fact sometimes,” Beron asked as he considered a moment, “What is it like to have the Aes Sedai in your head? Can you quiet what they feel from you to protect them from the distraction of battle, or is it like a raw nerve constantly distracting? I know the ability to channel requires concentration and control, and wondered about that issue.”