12-27-2021, 11:15 PM
He tossed threats like idle scraps. Elly made to move forward; Nythadri felt her intention surge the bond, and pressed a hand on the woman’s arm, though only because he hadn’t used anything more than sharp words. This wasn’t a fight they were going to be able to win if it came down to brute force, and she’d rather them both walk away from it alive -- the gaidar did not even know what Arikan was. Nythadri’s expression fell still, albeit still bloodless. She did not seek to catch Elly’s eye; she didn’t want the distraction, or the burden of guilt. Elsae’s name was like the knick of an unexpected blade, meanwhile. He mistook an Accepted for a Sister, but how did he even know the name? Let alone the concerning mystery of why he would choose to ask for her. Something to work with at least. Light, what had Talin done?
The Yellow’s porcelain expression was utterly devoid of feeling. The worried tells were there, if you knew to look for them as Nythadri did, but her tone was as curt as ever, her posture as stiffly straight as ever. She did not wilt from the dreadlord’s gaze, but she seemed more brittle than usual, like she at least remembered what fear was. “Were you really expecting me to have Kaori bundle her up in a sack and deliver her squirming at your feet?”
"Yes. I expected exactly that given that’s what you agreed to do."
Betrayal deadened to ash. Nythadri blinked, shuttering the surprise. Inwardly sickened. Elly’s muscles were still tense under her fingers when they slipped away. The power hurt so sweetly she could hear every clear breath in her lungs like it was her last. Fear was not a companion she kept very often; being usually too belligerent, and too stubborn, to answer its call. But it clawed a path inside her now. The lull was worse than the adrenaline. She had been thoroughly dismissed, and was glad for the moment’s respite it gave her, but all it allowed her to see was the dreadlord’s anger roll in like a promised storm.
She could not let go of saidar. She would rather be dead than cut from the source, and if he turned in a snap second she didn't mean to give him the chance. Because she could see no way for this to end peacefully.
Yet Talin only continued, unperturbed. “Would that I could heal the mind as easily as flesh wounds if you expected me to apply the stratagems of a darkfriend.” The word was scathed like a knowing insult, though it was hardly likely to find a mark. She sighed, seeming genuinely exasperated. “I have not betrayed you, Arikan,” she clarified firmly. Guilelessness was not difficult for her to master; she looked like a doll, all delicate framed and large eyed, and often as lifeless. But Nythadri thought she meant it. The irony, though; that was enough to choke on. She knew Talin held no moral compunctions for avoiding such a task as kidnap: she would have done precisely that, had she thought she could do so without consequence to herself. She had when she dragged Nythadri through her gate. She was talking about laws not Light.
“But I cannot simply abscond with whomever so I please without consequence. I might as well have offered to escort you right up the Tower steps to find her yourself. It amounts to about the same foolishness,” A little irritation scoured the words dry, like he should have realised that, but she sounded strained all the same. Her lips pursed, and she leaned to pour herself tea from the incongruously civilized arrangement, finally breaking clear of the dreadlord’s flat stare. Perhaps she had decided she could no longer hold it. “I am bound by oaths. And I walk in the Light, you remember. Unrealistic expectations are of benefit to no one. I hope you will apply the same logic to your end of our pact, and refrain from taking pointless risks, else this is all for naught. You have the harder task, after all. I won’t weep when you die, Arikan, but I will not let it happen before you clear the Dragon’s path to Shayol Ghul.”
After mixing a little honey, she settled back into the comfort of her seat with the teacup nestled in her palms. Gentle steam roiled its surface. Her dark blue eyes were unblinking.
The hint of a frown broke the repose of Nythadri's expression, though only for a moment before it refortified in ice. There was barely time to piece the deluge of that together, but her pale stare returned to Arikan’s cruel features in study despite how little she wanted to look at him. Talin played with patience for her benefit, that much was obvious now. Light choke the woman for this game. The dreadlord’s clothes were fine enough, and he was by no means emaciated, but neither did he truly look like a man who once spearheaded the horde descended upon the shining city. Her pulse was thumping loudly still, but she began to carefully collect the pieces fright made her drop. Exile was not exactly a punishment meted out by the dark for failure. There were no shadowspawn in the fort. His supposed part in this truce aside, his presence was an anomaly. He ought to be dead, or at least suffering terribly somewhere. Not begging Aes Sedai for favours.
And that being giving up a daughter of the Tower. It was not a bargain worth any prize. Even Talin knew that, and she didn’t need Nythadri’s counsel for the epiphany no matter what she claimed. That she thought to make the bargain with a devil paled all sense for one who prided herself on self-serving logic and survival. But sense or not outright refusal right now would be as confrontational as drawing a blade, and as stupid. Nythadri suddenly caught Talin’s intention, though the manipulation stung as much as the suspected betrayal, just as the words were offered: “They trained together, and she is your best chance at convincing Elsae to come willingly. And yes, Arikan, that is an important distinction. Following the Light is like a dance. You learn the steps, and it becomes easier in time.”
In other circumstances, she might have laughed bitterly at that: Talin dishing out advice on a light-fearing existence. Instead Arikan would find Nythadri silent and glacial if he looked at her now. The precision of her gaze was the type to flay skin from bone to prize the secrets beneath, and clearly had been for some moments before now. Though Talin was still speaking to him; to hold court or simply to impart the final slither of context. She waved a hand at the chairs around her. “I trust you do remember my healing, and where I found you. Poisoning you now serves no purpose. What an utterly inefficient use of my time and skill it would be otherwise. I’m almost offended you might think me capable. Assuming that is why you are stood so far away. Please sit. Both of you.”
Blood and ashes she considered him a patient. It clicked like the sickening pop of bone. Under what grand delusion did Talin believe a man like that could reform? Or even deserved to? She glanced briefly at her Sister, a flash of ire neatly bestowed for all the trouble that followed, but she ignored the invitation. Petty, she supposed, but she would not sit before the dreadlord acquiesced first. Instead she felt Elly blanch in alarm as she moved forward. Not too close; she wasn’t entirely reckless. Her heart was beating hard. It was probably why she did it. To behold this phantom of nightmare, and know that he was still just a man.
He had nothing of his old resources, else he’d have plucked Elsae from the Tower himself. The Tower denied it to bloody breath but its halls were not untouched by darker presence. Whatever cast him out also cut him off. There was something missing here; the dark did not punish with an appeasement to revenge, which was what she presumed Arikan wanted. But it meant he was alone. Not desperate; he wore arrogance, anger, and impatience too proudly for that. Neither broken. Still very dangerous. Light it didn’t fit. But there was no time to parse the facts, not now, and she had to make do with the answers she had pieced so far.
The power left, and its loss abandoned her to the ache of the world left a little duller. Maybe that was foolish. It wasn’t trust. It wasn’t even that she wasn’t still afraid. It was that she realised there was a bargain to be made here after all; that he wanted something, and by the casual cruelty of his tongue already inflicted, it was quite clear dealing with Aes Sedai was hardly his first choice to get it. That too meant his choices were limited. She could get them out of this. Light she had to. Once she had survived this meeting, at least.
“You came here alone, then. No pretty escort afforded for the disgraced lord.” The words were spoken simply, without the inflection to make them spite, but she hoped they stung all the same. Hoped he realised too that she used his own glib tongue against him, when he admitted to seeing Talin’s warder on the journey in. It might not be entirely true; it was not like fades announced themselves. But taken with everything else she guessed in the scant moments of their meeting, she was sure, and wanted him to know it. He was alone.
“Elsae is a friend. One who did a great favour for me once. I would return it if the value was equal. What do you wish with her?”
[[dialogue mode with permission]]
The Yellow’s porcelain expression was utterly devoid of feeling. The worried tells were there, if you knew to look for them as Nythadri did, but her tone was as curt as ever, her posture as stiffly straight as ever. She did not wilt from the dreadlord’s gaze, but she seemed more brittle than usual, like she at least remembered what fear was. “Were you really expecting me to have Kaori bundle her up in a sack and deliver her squirming at your feet?”
"Yes. I expected exactly that given that’s what you agreed to do."
Betrayal deadened to ash. Nythadri blinked, shuttering the surprise. Inwardly sickened. Elly’s muscles were still tense under her fingers when they slipped away. The power hurt so sweetly she could hear every clear breath in her lungs like it was her last. Fear was not a companion she kept very often; being usually too belligerent, and too stubborn, to answer its call. But it clawed a path inside her now. The lull was worse than the adrenaline. She had been thoroughly dismissed, and was glad for the moment’s respite it gave her, but all it allowed her to see was the dreadlord’s anger roll in like a promised storm.
She could not let go of saidar. She would rather be dead than cut from the source, and if he turned in a snap second she didn't mean to give him the chance. Because she could see no way for this to end peacefully.
Yet Talin only continued, unperturbed. “Would that I could heal the mind as easily as flesh wounds if you expected me to apply the stratagems of a darkfriend.” The word was scathed like a knowing insult, though it was hardly likely to find a mark. She sighed, seeming genuinely exasperated. “I have not betrayed you, Arikan,” she clarified firmly. Guilelessness was not difficult for her to master; she looked like a doll, all delicate framed and large eyed, and often as lifeless. But Nythadri thought she meant it. The irony, though; that was enough to choke on. She knew Talin held no moral compunctions for avoiding such a task as kidnap: she would have done precisely that, had she thought she could do so without consequence to herself. She had when she dragged Nythadri through her gate. She was talking about laws not Light.
“But I cannot simply abscond with whomever so I please without consequence. I might as well have offered to escort you right up the Tower steps to find her yourself. It amounts to about the same foolishness,” A little irritation scoured the words dry, like he should have realised that, but she sounded strained all the same. Her lips pursed, and she leaned to pour herself tea from the incongruously civilized arrangement, finally breaking clear of the dreadlord’s flat stare. Perhaps she had decided she could no longer hold it. “I am bound by oaths. And I walk in the Light, you remember. Unrealistic expectations are of benefit to no one. I hope you will apply the same logic to your end of our pact, and refrain from taking pointless risks, else this is all for naught. You have the harder task, after all. I won’t weep when you die, Arikan, but I will not let it happen before you clear the Dragon’s path to Shayol Ghul.”
After mixing a little honey, she settled back into the comfort of her seat with the teacup nestled in her palms. Gentle steam roiled its surface. Her dark blue eyes were unblinking.
The hint of a frown broke the repose of Nythadri's expression, though only for a moment before it refortified in ice. There was barely time to piece the deluge of that together, but her pale stare returned to Arikan’s cruel features in study despite how little she wanted to look at him. Talin played with patience for her benefit, that much was obvious now. Light choke the woman for this game. The dreadlord’s clothes were fine enough, and he was by no means emaciated, but neither did he truly look like a man who once spearheaded the horde descended upon the shining city. Her pulse was thumping loudly still, but she began to carefully collect the pieces fright made her drop. Exile was not exactly a punishment meted out by the dark for failure. There were no shadowspawn in the fort. His supposed part in this truce aside, his presence was an anomaly. He ought to be dead, or at least suffering terribly somewhere. Not begging Aes Sedai for favours.
And that being giving up a daughter of the Tower. It was not a bargain worth any prize. Even Talin knew that, and she didn’t need Nythadri’s counsel for the epiphany no matter what she claimed. That she thought to make the bargain with a devil paled all sense for one who prided herself on self-serving logic and survival. But sense or not outright refusal right now would be as confrontational as drawing a blade, and as stupid. Nythadri suddenly caught Talin’s intention, though the manipulation stung as much as the suspected betrayal, just as the words were offered: “They trained together, and she is your best chance at convincing Elsae to come willingly. And yes, Arikan, that is an important distinction. Following the Light is like a dance. You learn the steps, and it becomes easier in time.”
In other circumstances, she might have laughed bitterly at that: Talin dishing out advice on a light-fearing existence. Instead Arikan would find Nythadri silent and glacial if he looked at her now. The precision of her gaze was the type to flay skin from bone to prize the secrets beneath, and clearly had been for some moments before now. Though Talin was still speaking to him; to hold court or simply to impart the final slither of context. She waved a hand at the chairs around her. “I trust you do remember my healing, and where I found you. Poisoning you now serves no purpose. What an utterly inefficient use of my time and skill it would be otherwise. I’m almost offended you might think me capable. Assuming that is why you are stood so far away. Please sit. Both of you.”
Blood and ashes she considered him a patient. It clicked like the sickening pop of bone. Under what grand delusion did Talin believe a man like that could reform? Or even deserved to? She glanced briefly at her Sister, a flash of ire neatly bestowed for all the trouble that followed, but she ignored the invitation. Petty, she supposed, but she would not sit before the dreadlord acquiesced first. Instead she felt Elly blanch in alarm as she moved forward. Not too close; she wasn’t entirely reckless. Her heart was beating hard. It was probably why she did it. To behold this phantom of nightmare, and know that he was still just a man.
He had nothing of his old resources, else he’d have plucked Elsae from the Tower himself. The Tower denied it to bloody breath but its halls were not untouched by darker presence. Whatever cast him out also cut him off. There was something missing here; the dark did not punish with an appeasement to revenge, which was what she presumed Arikan wanted. But it meant he was alone. Not desperate; he wore arrogance, anger, and impatience too proudly for that. Neither broken. Still very dangerous. Light it didn’t fit. But there was no time to parse the facts, not now, and she had to make do with the answers she had pieced so far.
The power left, and its loss abandoned her to the ache of the world left a little duller. Maybe that was foolish. It wasn’t trust. It wasn’t even that she wasn’t still afraid. It was that she realised there was a bargain to be made here after all; that he wanted something, and by the casual cruelty of his tongue already inflicted, it was quite clear dealing with Aes Sedai was hardly his first choice to get it. That too meant his choices were limited. She could get them out of this. Light she had to. Once she had survived this meeting, at least.
“You came here alone, then. No pretty escort afforded for the disgraced lord.” The words were spoken simply, without the inflection to make them spite, but she hoped they stung all the same. Hoped he realised too that she used his own glib tongue against him, when he admitted to seeing Talin’s warder on the journey in. It might not be entirely true; it was not like fades announced themselves. But taken with everything else she guessed in the scant moments of their meeting, she was sure, and wanted him to know it. He was alone.
“Elsae is a friend. One who did a great favour for me once. I would return it if the value was equal. What do you wish with her?”
[[dialogue mode with permission]]