The Familial Mutt

[Eidolon]

Malaika Sedai, Brown Ajah

The young sister had spread the papers and books pertaining to her current project across the arrangement of plush sofas and chairs centring across from a fireplace. With nowhere left to sit, Malaika was curled on the floor, hunched over an equally cluttered table scribbing shorthand notes as quickly as her left hand could cope. It was a training exercise as much as anything; her right hand, for all that it had healed, was stiff and clumsy, and she did not like to rely on the Power for something so basic as writing. A servant had left refreshments some time earlier, but with no room to place them close at hand had left them elsewhere. The smell of fresh food had long since faded, and Malaika could not recall where the tray was, or indeed even remembered that there was one.

The Brown Ajah servants looked after her well. Whether it was knowledge of her past or something she projected through her soft-spoken manner, others tended to look upon her as something fragile; something that needed looking after. It was true that of late, and particularly in the months since she had returned to the Tower, Malaika had been rather swallowed by her studies; had let them swallow her, in fact, and more often than not she forgot meal times until her belly protested, or fell asleep at a desk or with book in hand in a chair. Adira had mentioned more than once the option of hiring a personal maid (and had exclaimed that perhaps a Warder was better suited when she'd discovered the new scars on Malaika's hand) but the young Brown waved away the concern. Her apartments were messy but clean; paper, parchment and books covered every surface, but there was no dust, no dirt, and no cobwebs; she had no need for a personal servant. Malaika was happy with her chaos, and with her solitude.

The knock, though heard the first time somewhere in her conscious, did not register until several moments after. By then the young brown frowned and wondered if she was hearing things, but extricated herself from the delicate chaos of her work space regardless, careful not to upset the balance of piled paper or ruffle the pages of splayed books. She was dressed plainly today in pale gold, unadorned but for the pendant gifted to her by Brenna Sedai. Her hair was long and loose, pushed in a silken cascade over one shoulder to keep it under control while reading. An unassuming figure, for all that she was Aes Sedai, but she was not expecting visitors nor had plans to leave her rooms today.

The door opened smoothly. She half expected to find no one there, either because the knock had been her imagination or her visitor had gotten bored waiting. Any surprise at what she did find was wrapped away comfortably by a serene mask. And it was a surprise. One of the Tower's elite had been at the very bottom of her list of imagined potential callers, along with the Dragon himself. It was a rare occasion that Malaika ever visited the training fields, and even then it was strictly for research purposes. She had no acquaintances among the warrior ranks and could think of no reason one would have to knock upon her door.

"Gaidar," she greeted. Then her eyes slid to the other figure, and paused. It was admirable, really, that she managed to keep that shock from cracking through. She'd never have thought to see his face again; had fought hard to put what had happened behind her. Malaika's lips thinned, and then the calm returned.

Kasimir

And Kasimir did bow; an over-done flourish of a thing that was more for the benefit of the warrior woman than the Aes Sedai. His grin was casual and unphased in a passing glance, but more than half of his cocky act was simply bravardo. He had no idea what he was doing; his plans had only ever gone so far as to find the woman Malaika. And after that? Well... he had no clue. His heart beat in triple time when the door had opened, and double again when he recognised the face of the woman behind it. For her part the Seanchan's face was still, but she was Aes Sedai. What was the worst that could happen to him? Still, he opted against saying anything, sure that whatever he would say would be wrong.

Malaika Sedai, Brown Ajah

She had had her doubts as to whether or not he would recognise her features, so briefly had they been revealed that night, but it appeared he did. The boy ... Kasimir? ... grinned like a fool and his bow was a mockery, if not intentionally so. Malaika had never been one at ease with the bowing and scraping some afforded those titled Aes Sedai, and she remembered enough of this one to know not to pander to his antics. Instead she ignored him. As quickly as her gaze had settled on the Ebou Dari, it returned to the Gaidar. "Is he in trouble, gaidar?" She had little doubt that he had done something untoward to earn his violet-eyed escort, but was more concerned as to why he had sought her out and not Eithne. She knew the answer to that, of course, and it was disquieting. Why? Revenge for what she had done to his father? There had been no love lost in that relationship, but still...

Trista

Trista bowed when the Aes Sedai opened the door; a modest motion, lacking the elaborations the younger man added, but it was efficient and (most importantly) respectful. Upon straightening her eyes flickered from the Aes Sedai to the unkempt boy at her back, but only once, and only to ensure he was not being obnoxious.

"There was a misunderstanding in the streets, but he committed no crime," anyone raised outside of Altara might have considered assaulting a lordling with a knife more than a minor discretion, but in the way only an Ebou Dari could, she understood. He had meant no harm. "He asked to see you. If you want, I can remain while you speak with him." Assuming, of course, she wanted to speak with him.

Kasimir

Kasimir was working extremely hard to hold his tongue, a feat that did not exactly come naturally to the young Altaran, but he did not wish to ruin his chance with a flippant comment that neither woman had the sense to see with a dash of humour. He could be polite when he wanted, if he wanted, and for all his foolery the .. ah... fiasco in Tar Valon had certainly made it clear to him that he was not in Ebou Dar and should watch his words and actions closely. A chance was all he asked. At least the woman, the gaidar, had not dropped him in it. For all her black emotionlessness (which he attributed to working so closely with witc--with Aes Sedai), at least she retained enough of her Altaran heritage to realise he really had meant no offence or harm with his challenge to the lordling. The opposite, in fact.

To Malaika Sedai he held up his palms to show them empty. "I just have some questions," he said, and smiled in a way he hoped did not appear insincere. If she refused him now he was at a loss. He could not return home without answers, and he had no desire to stay here in a city of cowards and strange customs.

Malaika Sedai, Brown Ajah

A misunderstanding... Malaika did not frown, but she felt like it; she had the feeling Kasimir had been very lucky today, and likely had the Altaran woman to thank for it. The streets of Tar Valon were not kind to criminals, or tolerant of those who tried to push the boundaries of acceptable behaviour. She wasn't under any obligation to speak with him, of course; if he truly needed the assistance of the Tower there were other sisters he could seek aid from. Not to mentioned that the trouble his presence would bring to her was wholly unwanted. The Tower is your family now, Eithne had reminded her, and she had no intention of betraying her Ajah's trust. Her loyalties did and always would lay with the Tower.

But, she admitted, there was a curiosity now that the initial surprise had subsided. The last time she had succumb to curiosity it had cost her, but then she had acted rashly; had not considered the consequences. This situation was different.

The Aes Sedai looked at the scruffy man, considering, and did not speak for a time. She had not thought on her brother since her return, except during the discussions she had had with Eithne and a few other sisters, but the melancholy of his reaction to her had never really left. Though she would never disgrace her ajah in such a way again (and it was a disgrace, at least in her eyes) she still harboured some foolish hope in her heart; that perhaps after time to contemplate he would forgive her for what she was. Or at least accept. A fruitless hope; idealistic and naive, but there none-the-less in the back of her mind.

"I just have some questions."

Under the scrutiny of her gaze he smiled, a youthfully bright smile, if a little unsure. Naive. Abruptly Malaika recalled the tears that had wet his cheeks in protest of his innocence; the way pressure had cracked him. He's just a boy. And his words echoed her own that night. She empathised with that need, if she did not honestly know what it was he sought from her. Chakai was the only link between them, but the Chakai that was Kasimir's father was not the Chakai that had been her brother all those years ago. They were related in nothing but blood now.

"Kasimir Nevaren. I know him," she answered eventually, speaking his name if only to put the gaidar's mind at rest; to assure that she did know this stranger who caused trouble on the streets and earned a gaidar escort. Oh Light. Though the offered protection was appreciated and might have been sensible to accept, Malaika had long since vowed to be the one to protect herself. "There is no need to stay. I am sure you have other duties. Thank you, gaidar." There was a gentle emphasis on the last; gratitude for the discretion of bringing the young man here, rather than to the cells. Someone should thank the woman.

The young Brown held open the door then, for Kasimir to pass. Her work was strewn about within the room, but it was nothing sensitive or irreplaceable else she would have taken the meeting elsewhere, and indeed not been conducting it in her sitting room in the first place. The paper covered almost every free surface and there was nowhere left to sit; the young man would simply have to stand.

Trista

No one questioned the choices of Aes Sedai, and Trista was not about to start. The only evidence of hesitation was the slightest flicker of her wine-dark eyes to the left, as if she wanted to check on the other Altaran once more. She did not need to, necessarily; the Tower trained did not need to visually assess a person to know every move they made standing in such close proximity.

If the Aes Sedai wanted to be alone with the young Altaran, so be it. She took the dismissal with another fluid bow, her mouth turning up in the barest of smile's at the Brown's thanks. A poor attempt at appreciation, but it was there, and it was better than most received from the Gaidar. The expression was for the Aes Sedai only; after all, her duty was to serve them, and she would do it regardless of acknowledgement.

"As you wish, Aes Sedai," there was no judgement in her voice, merely the same monotonous acquiescence. Pivoting on one booted heel, her eyes met the boy's own one last time. There was no expression in them; rather, the sheer vapidity in the shallow pools was a warning all its own. If he laid one of his dirty fingers on the Aes Sedai without a bloody good reason, and she found out - which she would - he would be answering to her personally.

And then, she was gone.