Filling the Days

[Jaxen Marveet]

Chapter 6: The Red

To set one thing straight, Jole liked living. So much that he could easily recognize the tells of one who wanted to kill him. It was ironically similar to the ones who wanted to jump his bones, but just then he wasn’t sure he could decipher which was which at the present. Best to assume the former until otherwise known. Such as when the Red leaned over him like a temptress, Jole did nothing but allow his dark gaze to drift. “Nice necklace.” His compliment was playful, but it was upon her eyes that he soon settled his contemplation.

He tapped his temple with a crooked finger. “My mind is a chasm of knowledge, Aes Sedai. Such as, allow me to help-“ and that devil-may-care grin peered deeply back as his hands mimed the modern movement: swirling around each other in a circle before a palm slowly stretched to cover her heart. “That’s Healing. You try now. I know you can do it.”

The Chosen at large were annoyingly quiet, which meant they were far from idle. None would be wasting away their immortality as Jole at present. Then again, none were shielded from all but a trickle of their powers. Dangling strings and poking prods at the great Dragon was entertaining for a long while, but the truth of the matter was Jole was bored out of his mind. Perhaps it was the Wheel’s destiny that news of Asristin resurfaced when it did, but there was one small issue plaguing the return of another infamous, and incredibly more talented soul, to the world. This dark-damned shield; and she’d never undo it.

And yet the Wheel might have presented a solution to that issue as well; currently hovering bosom over breast at this very moment.

He licked his lips, crusted with the dryness of a hangover, below the blanche of a face that had seen more than its fair share of shit in life. He decided to dangle a dangerous bait and see if she nibbled. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps my time here has come to its end. You’ll have to ask him yourself, but beware, he is so sentimental, and our friendship has endured… many centuries.”

His face tilted from one side to the other, waiting for the pieces to fall like locks in her mind. If not, she’d probably assume him mad, and Jorin would go about his day all the same.