An Early Evening Run

[Eidolon]

Malaika

She'd already confessed to wanting to visit the Tuatha'an wagons one day, so she was quite happy to listen to his ramblings whether they had a point or not. And with Mistress Osilia there 'on guard,' the conversation steered blessedly away from that infamous dance, which Byron seemed very determined to mention whenever he got the chance. It must have been a very memorable experience, for it appeared to have made quite the impression on him.

The pursuit for lost things was something every Brown could identify with, so she thought a moment on the idea that there may be little left for them to discover. Little but the most important Song, of course. If the stories really were true. It would be nice to think that the world's problems could be solved so easily, and maybe it would have a positive impact on Tarmon Gaidon and bring back the Age of Legends - one could hope, after all. But she doubted the Seanchan would be so easily quelled from their long awaited Corenne, and their threat grew larger each day even without the additional peril from the Shadow. She did not quite feel guilt for the actions of her former people, but she did feel a melancholy to think that an institution she had once been a part of endangered the very way of life for the people on this continent; treasures like the Tinkers would find themselves on the very brink of extinction should the war gain more of a stranglehold on the mainland.

"A beautiful philosophy," she agreed, but the way in which she said it suggested that it was something to be admired, and not necessarily lived by. Pacifist ideals were just that; she could not quite fathom a people or person unwilling to fight for themselves or those they loved. They said it injured one's soul to bring violence upon another; that, she could understand. But was it not a worthy sacrifice in pursuit of defence? Of yourself? Of others? Would a Tinker watch their own child slaughtered because they were too afraid for the purity of their own souls? Pacifism was exquisite when it worked, but human nature was a flawed thing. It could never work but for more than a handful of society.

The notion of ‘settling’ down or falling in love seemed very foreign to her, and she supposed it was because she had never considered it beyond the fiction she sometimes read. It was not an option for her, and was certainly not an expectation of life that she had. Years of institution and a life surrounded by other women had dulled the sort of dreams young girls had of husbands and children. If she had had the choice? Perhaps her outlook would have been different. But the life she led now was far beyond any dreams she could have had in Seanchan, and she treasured the privilege. Sacrificing the ordinary things she would never have had there seemed a very small price to pay for the wonders and freedoms she experienced here.

She smiled ruefully to his last comment; so a tour might be only one step up from a shopping trip, but she had promised to keep an ear out for anything more suitable to his talents. And he had already said, more than once, that trouble had a way of finding him, so she was pretty sure he wouldn’t need much aid in finding something to do. And if not, then perhaps it was time for him to be more proactive?

Her brows rose slightly; an amused look. "Byron Gaidin, settle? Like an old warhorse put out to pasture?" His own words, from earlier. He was either going soft or one of those Tinker girls really had made a lasting impression; but she wouldn't pry about that. He seemed both affectionate and dismissive of the Tuatha'an, as though he felt or was looking for kinship - and had found it, too, and yet still didn't wholly belong. As a foreigner, Malaika could empathise with that, but she had found family within the Tower in a way Byron did not seem to have. He had achieved the cloak but was still looking to belong, to be needed, useful.

She titled her head, then turned her gaze back to Mistress Osilia. “Byron has agreed to show me around Tar Valon. I’m not very familiar with the city.”

Byron

He glowered briefly at the comment; he was very vocal about the idea of marriage, quite opposed. And of course the thought of him being old! For shame. So what if he couldn't handle his drink quite as well as he could in his youth, well, that had nothing to do with age. The ale wasn't as watered down as he remembered was all.

"Has he now? Wonderful! I've a feeling you might be a good influence on the boy. You're very thoughtful I think. Might be good to have someone like that around him for a time, help bring him back to earth?" She cast Byron a calculating gaze, absently pondering how bad an influence he might be on Malaika, but dismissed the notion in the end. The young woman did seem to have a level head on her shoulders, and wasn't likely to be too direly influenced by Byron's oddities.

He didn't seem sure what to make of either her statement or her look; he frowned at her pensively, cheeks puffing as he blew a lock of hair away from his eyes again, much like a petulant child being scolded. But all the while he had that playful glint in his eyes, clearly not nearly so unsettled by her meaning then he might have seemed.

"I doubt you could find anyone better suited for a tour of Tar Valon though. He knows more then he lets on. Probably knows near every nook and cranny of the city like the back of his hand. Or so he'd like everyone to think anyways." She smiled then and looked back to Malaika, clearly approving of the entire idea despite what her spoken opinion of Byron might seem. It was true, she enjoyed teasing him.

Byron sat up a bit, casting her a challenging glare before looking back to Malaika, one fist on the tabletop and leaning in, seeming quite serious, "Back of my hand indeed! No doubt the architecture is a wonder...but honestly, isn't it just a tad much? I mean, how about the Twins? Why build two huge statues as store fronts? Really, just a tad gaudy isn't it? Waves and birds in flight and flowers and animals. The city is like a yard of stone-worker's finished projects on a grand scale, all sorts of strange things jumbled together and waiting for sale."

"No, it's the people. Always has been always will. The Grove, however, is more then enough to warrant a visit. At least there you can truely enjoy the view. But a city is made of the people within, not how fanciful a palace the rich live in. Taverns and tea houses and markets is where the city lives and pulses."

He nodded pointedly, clearly indicating Mistress Osilia's own establishment as a fine example of what truly made Tar Valon such a great city, and she couldn't help but beam proudly at the off hand compliment. She was always proud of her little restaurant, especially thanks to that donation and letter from her departed brother all those years ago. Forged and delivered by a young boy she never realized was Byron on his way to the Tower.

Malaika

Malaika had only meant to express disbelief that he would ever even consider settling, but he seemed to think she was calling him old. It really did seem to be a sore point, and she almost felt bad for teasing him. Almost. Payback for making her blush, she reasoned. Despite the glower, which usually would have sent her scuttling back into her shell - and certainly would have diminished her presence in the conversation - she only looked amused, chin resting in a cupped hand and eyes twinkling with the mischievous energy of the conversation. It was probably the lateness of the hour, but she looked relaxed, and quite unguarded. Whatever that meant of an Aes Sedai.

Good influence? She thought it might be the other way around, actually. Browns as a whole were often considered naïve, and Malaika had more cause than most to be ignorant. Though educated to a standard beyond even the richest of nobles, she was far from worldly, and if she ever truly wished to leave the Tower to her own ends then it was a weakness that needed remedying, lest she find her life cut shorter than she’d like. By Osilia’s deliberating stare and Byron’s faux petulance she assumed the woman was considering the consequences of unleashing the influences of a scoundrel on a ‘young Lady.’ But Byron’s gambling, drinking and roguishness were all facets of a persona that lost their perilous edge under his gaidin title - and she an Aes Sedai, too. She didn’t think he would truly get her into any sort of trouble (would he?). Or, if he did, that it wouldn’t be anything she couldn’t get herself out of.

Gaudy? Malaika, usually so humble and conservative in her tastes, did not see that when she looked at Tar Valon; she saw a beautiful cohesion, with everything seeming to be in its perfect and proper place. The waves and birds and shells, the spires and sky bridges. She had heard that even the ordinary buildings here could pass for palaces elsewhere, and it was far too organic to resemble a stone-worker’s yard. But she understood that his point was not to belittle the architecture, but to exalt the people that made up the community. She smiled to see Osilia’s beam, and felt warmed as though the woman’s pride was her own.

“Osilia, I think that rant is aimed at me. A tour of the people is what he promised, not of the buildings.” She stifled her laughter, though only because he seemed so suddenly serious and she did not wish to provoke another glare. The two did not seem so mutually exclusive to Malaika, but people appeared very important to Byron, in all their various forms. Malaika cared for those around her, but she did not think she could be quite so personable - or let herself grow so attached. The lives of ordinary people were such an ephemeral thing to a channeler, and she imagined it was one reason why so many Aes Sedai adopted cold facades; not heartlessness, but self-preservation against loss. Aes Sedai protected the lives of the ordinary, but they did not live them. Unless the Wheel intervened, she would outlive every non-channeler in the city. A jaded thought for one so young, and she suddenly felt dizzyingly out of touch.

Not much of that thought showed on her face, though she did appear to have faded from the conversation a moment; Browns were wont to do that, though. “I imagine there are a number of interesting characters who call Tar Valon home.”

Byron

"Light yes, there can be no doubt of that. With enough effort, you can usually find someone that's been anywhere, seen anything. All sorts of interesting knicknacks can be found, stories can be heard, jokes told and dice tumbled. If you know where to look." His knowing smile clearly indicated that he knew just where to look, but even the vague limitations she had put on their activities for the tour would be a bit of a problem. He was rather prone to finding trouble after all.

Mistress Osilia suddenly stiffled a yawn, then seemed clearly embarresed over it, absently fussing with her hair, "It doesn't seem all that long ago that I could sit up all night, you know. But, either today was busier then I remember, or maybe I'm getting on in years."

She shifted about on her chair, sitting up a bit straighter as if to try and keep herself up. It was rare that Byron brought a woman over, and rarer still that she could keep up a pleasant conversation. "I am sorry, but I suppose it's time I close up for the night. Plenty to be done in the morning." She seemed genuinely disappointed over the thought, and even having said it made no move to abandon her seat.

Byron's crestfallen look came and went in a flash, riding the ever present waves of his energetic personality, and he smoothly swept to his feet to circle the table to pull Mistress Osilia's chair for her, "Well, perhaps we will stop by during good Lady Malaika's tour, if she so wishes. I promise to stop by sometime soon with my lute."

The well aged woman slid to her feet with a bit of effort, rubbing at a sore back tiredly then turning to pat Byron appreciatively on the cheek, "You had better, you promised to entertain weeks ago, so you had best stop putting it off." She spoke with a smile then let Byron circle the table to Malaika's seat, playing the role of the gentleman to pull her chair as well.

"Yes yes, a promise is a promise and I do keep my promises. Eventually." He flashed her a teasing grin, looking down to Malaika, "Care for some company on the walk home, good Lady? The streets of Tar Valon are painfully safe late at night. It can be a real bore, I swear."

Malaika

Malaika didn't doubt that he knew where to look - and without much effort, as her wry look suggested. She was quite sure the tour would prove interesting, if for no more reason than the company; as abrupt as the thought to ask him had been, it had had a reason, subconscious or otherwise. She wanted to see through the eyes of someone so starkly different from herself. A boundless curiosity and a relative naiveté was certain to make the most mundane of things of interest to the young Brown, and there was very little he could show her that she would not find some fascination in.

Her gaze returned to Osilia at the yawn. Malaika was used to the oddest of hours, and an Aes Sedai could function on very little sleep at the best of times; she had meant to keep an eye out to make sure she did not overstay her welcome, but her mind had wandered and she was glad the tea mistress was so direct. Light, but the woman had probably been on her feet before the sun even rose, and it was well after dusk now.

”Of course.” There was gentle emphasis on the word that spoke of genuine friendliness. Malaika was not so used to these sorts of social dynamics, but Osilia actually seemed disappointed at the lateness of the hour. She imagined it was Byron’s presence more than her own that made Osilia reluctant to turn in, but it still made her warm to have felt so welcomed by the woman. And when Malaika liked a place (or a person), she was quick to return to it and make it a sanctuary. In fact, that inclination had probably been the first step she had made towards a Brown shawl all those years ago, when she had found refuge amongst the books. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Osilia. Light keep you safe.”

A pleasant evening. And unusual, all truth told, for more reasons than one. She pulled her cloak from where it had fallen in repose in the chair around her, and fastened the clasp at her neck. A few moments later, a few coins were pushed onto the table, beside her empty cup. Her notion of currency was rather... weak, given that she had never needed to use money in her life, so she erred on the side of too much rather than too little. Then she stood, amused that Byron should pull her chair, because she was really not used to such formality. “Only if you‘re going the same way. I won’t keep you from a late night tipple and a last throw of the dice before the sun greets us.”

Byron

Mistress Osilia smiled warmly, a bit of her exhaustion fading for the moment and she moved to give Malaika an all too motherly hug. "You get your rest dear girl, that boy will have you hustling and bustling all day if you let him. Much too fond of helping people, he is, as you'll soon come to see."

Byron's eyebrow shot up at that, glancing between the two women and likely trying to figure out how to protect his reputation of 'insufferable lout,' but to no real avail as Osilia was stepping up to him next and he was forced to give over another hug, "Yes well. If I've a chink in my armour, it's women with beautiful eyes." He grinned down at Osilia and got a swat on the arm for his comment, although both were smiling.

He gave over a moment to put the room's chairs up on the tables, to make it easier for Osilia to sweep in the morning, "You needn't worry about that, good Lady Malaika. I shall undoubtably be able to find myself some trouble to get into no matter which way you live. If one were to trust anything I say, that should be it."

Osilia just sniffed in mock disdain and shook her head, letting Byron fuss over the chairs while looking to Malaika instead, glancing down at the coins on the table then pausing in apparent confusion. Over payed, no doubt about that, it took the tired woman a moment to do the math then she quickly scooped the few extras and moved to press them back to Malaika's hand, "No no dear, too much is too much." She didn't seem offended, more so honestly worried that Malaika had over payed.

Malaika

Later Malaika would be touched by the gesture, but in the moment of the embrace she could not help but stiffen, as miserable as she felt for her reaction and how the woman might perceive it. The close softness, the warmth, the faint scents of cooking and soap. Every point of contact felt intensified - worse because the young Brown had been taken unawares by the spontaneous endearment. If Osilia noticed she did not say, and perhaps only thought it the snobbery of the upper class she believed Malaika to be, else a modicum of awkwardness in one so young and inexperienced. Either way Malaika felt rather awful, and her expression remained very, very still, as though the smallest slip would let all that negativity some flooding out of her.

When she stepped back she felt strangely as though she had contaminated the woman, left dirtiness all over her. Logic and reason told her how ridiculous that was, but she still felt like she had broken a rule, and her heart was racing like a child who knew she had just done something terribly wrong. Eithne Sedai always encouraged her to face her fears, those obscure shadows of the past that followed her still but never really effected her day to day living until unusual moments like this, and Malaika leaned her hand on the edge of the table as Osilia moved to say goodbye to Byron, taking a moment to calm those irrational thoughts.

She smiled vaguely at Byron’s joking comment, watching as he set about stacking the chairs above the tables until Mistress Osilia spoke; at that, her distant thoughts returned to the reality around her and one might never have known that she had been so unsettled a moment before, her green gaze flickering between the coins in the woman's hand and the concerned look on her face. It took a second to piece it together, to recall the words.

"Oh." She assumed there were social conventions for this, but she did not know them. Malaika looked at the money in the woman's hand and made no move to retrieve it; it was not purposeful generosity so much as pure indifference; she had plenty, more than she could ever know what to do with, and she thought the trade as fair as one could when they placed so little value in coin. Mistress Osilia clearly did not agree, though, and Malaika didn't want it to seem like charity. She looked back up at the woman, for a moment a little unsure because she really did not want to offend, and then her expression resolved. "A promise then? A promise that we'll come back... like a, a... a prepayment?" She smiled softly - hopefully, in fact, because if tea mistresses were anything like seamstresses then she was probably walking on a quagmire.

Byron

Mistress Osilia didn't seem offended by Malaika's stand-off-ish reaction to the hug. More then anything, she seemed concerned. Had she offended her with the embrace? No...that didn't seem the case. Perhaps the young Lady was simply not used to such displays? Understandable, some nobility were rather odd after all. But, Malaika's honest attempts to recover and even ease Osilia's own uncertainty's was too heart warming to let the moment last. She only smiled warmly and quietly tucked the coins away, "So be it. You just let me know when, and I will have something extra special ready for you, Lady Malaika." For the amount of coin she had left, it would be quite a meal, made even more extravagant for the fact that Osilia was already rather fond of the quiet young woman.

Byron popped up again at the vague comment, a carefully raised eyebrow and an almost tentative tone, "Maybe...maybe even a pecan pie? One of good Hadna's pies? I dare say they rival anything I've tasted across the lands. As far as pecan pies go at least. A true miracle worker." He grinned at the thought, then looked to Mistress Osilia with a look of mock worry, like a man caught in the midst of doing something foolish, and his voice came in a quick 'dig my way out of this hole' stammer, "Not that your pies aren't suitable for the Creator himself, of course! Magnificent."

Osilia only spared him a long, flat look then looked to Malaika again, the smile returning, "He, of course, will get a plate of meat and cheese again. But for you, only the finest we have to offer, I assure you Lady Malaika."

He sighed heavily, shoulders drooping in defeat but let the moment pass, slowly moving towards the door, "Yes well, can't allow my taste buds to be spoiled I suppose. At my age, likely the pie would go straight to my gut hmm? Be weeks working it off. Yes, I suppose it's for the best then." His mopping tone was, of course, a farce, and he was hard pressed to hide a grin all the while.

Malaika

It felt like more generosity than the simple coins were worth, but Malaika conceded to her own ignorance on the matter and only smiled gratefully. Watching Byron’s antics with idle amusement, she wondered if the face he attributed to his fictitious mother of gold light ever bore Osilia’s features. The already unusual gaidin certainly reverted to something quite child-like and free when in her company, and Osilia was nothing if not motherly in return - even whilst the two teased each other mercilessly. Malaika’s smile deepened to something more expressive than usual, and she lamented that the hour had grown so late and the evening must end.

“We'll leave you to some much deserved rest. Goodnight, Mistress Osilia.”

The air outside was chill after the cosy warmth of the teahouse, but Malaika found it refreshing. An Aes Sedai did not feel the cold if she did not choose it, anyway. Her gaze lifted to the dark sky, and she made no effort to hide the fact that she was orienting herself. Now that they were out of the cramped dockside alleys, the Tower was not difficult to find in the distance, many of its windows still bright with light. The Wheel Weaves… The streets were mostly empty, but a city like Tar Valon never totally slept. There was little for an Aes Sedai to fear - the gaidin had said it himself - and she didn’t expect him to walk her back if he did not wish to. She would welcome the company, though.

“I can see why you like her.”

Byron

Mistress Osilia let them leave without much more fuss, then finally shut the door and shuttered the windows, the front room eventually falling dark as she put out the last of the lanterns and retired for the evening. Outside, Byron couldn't help but study the shop a moment, dwelling on Malaika's observation. He smiled wistfully to hide the frown he wanted to wear, wondering for likely the hundredth time whether Mistress Osilia brought out the best in him, or simply one of his more pleasant masks. Before his time at the Tower, Byron the boy had never been that trusting and even his most skilled of masks never seemed nearly so trusting.

Finally he shrugged and turned towards the Tower, hands clasped in the small of his back and his stride kept to a controlled, leisurely gait well matched to Malaika's own pace. "Nothing like her brother, Light's blessings for that. A good woman, no doubt about it, will make that oaf of a blacksmith a fine wife. She deserves it, and he's a good man too. Not much longer now before she gets the idea into her thick skull and does something about it."

He fell silent for a moment, pondering the few hints and inklings he had gleaned of her past. Even if he wished to seem modest, he had little illusions that his own past was a touch on the darker side; no few Warders came from solid families, sometimes even from rich parents and heritages. Aes Sedai were a much more eclectic mix; from fisherman's daughter to High Noble's child. His musings went from his scitter-scatter inner monologue to spoken observation without missing a beat, "Or, all too few, are freed Damane. Wheel Weaves and all that, but I think I am particularly glad that you were left on the docks of Tear. Whomever it was certainly left you rather out of the way though."

He pondered that a moment, gazing up at the night sky distractedly as he tried to piece it all together. "Not many Aes Sedai that travel by boat back then. Not that region anyways, and not for any length. Had to be a boat with Aes Sedai on it. Channellers at least, to have freed you from that life. But an Aes Sedai...well, I doubt even the most arrogant would have simply dumped you alone in the Maule. Sea Folk perhaps? Likely. Sounds like something they would do."

He frowned again, glancing at her from the corner of his eye as if worried he was off the mark. There was no end of possibilities of course; the world was a strange place, even twenty years ago. Strange and frightening. "I'd dare to say...even my most frightening of memories must pale in comparison to that day. Everything you know stripped away? Never had that. There was always something familiar for me, and the changes, while radical, were always slow coming. Takes a brave soul to make it through something like that. Just be forewarned..."

His tone trailed off a bit, as if leading into a particularly dire warning, letting it hang in the air a moment just for the added dramatic effect, before he finally looked to her with his usual charming smile, minus the hint of mischief that was usually there. This time, for the moment at least, it was more a warmth then the sly glint. "Mistress Osilia will not give in until you hug back and mean it."