01-25-2018, 01:58 PM
Araya left the unfinished question hanging, not quite sure how to provide a feasible answer to what he presumed the question to be. Did Jai remember him from Arad Doman? Possible; Araya had not been there in any official capacity – had even made attempts to tone down his attire – but he was no master spy, no great game player. He had not hid. The memories tightened discord in his chest, but he had had to see Daryen’s plan played out with his own eyes. No matter how much it burned. "Probably a question better answered when you’re sober, huh? Or at least able to hold down a conversation."
Noises drifted from downstairs; the sweetly pitched murmur of female voices. The click of a closing door. It didn't look like Jai was going to be up to any more antics - he looked pretty terrible by now, truth told - but Araya waited a few moments more before heading to the door, listening to the sounds of footsteps below as they grew clearer. By the time he'd gotten to the hallway to stand sentinel, they were making their way up the stairs; the Aes Sedai first, Hana hovering behind. The Sister was tall for a woman, and dark of hair and eye. Simplicity encapsulated the elegant lines of her dress, high-necked after a Borderland fashion and of modest steel blue colouring. He didn’t know her. “Light’s blessing, Asha’man. I am Esenya Sedai.”
Her gaze held a distinct clarity; the sort of pure, majestic confidence one only found in the north. Stable as a mountain. Araya was not really one for ceremony, but under the circumstances he thought it best to meet formality with formality.
"Thank you for coming so swiftly, Esenya Sedai. My name is Araya."
No scraping bow, though he did politely incline his head. Then paused, glancing at his fingers wound about the door handle. How best to phrase what she was going to find within? He figured Yellows - and he presumed she was likely to be one, despite no indication in her dress - were used to disturbing sights, unusual sights, heinous sights. There was no evidence of Hana's note on her person, but she would have some idea of the injuries she had come to Heal. Just not the drunk part; and that, there was no hiding once she entered. The stiff stench of it permeated from Jai's very pores. "I should preface this with an apology of sorts, Aes Sedai. Asha’man Kojima took it upon himself to self-medicate trauma with alcohol. Besides the obvious injuries, he’s not looking too good-"
She held up a pacifying hand to cut him off, and used her other to place gentle pressure on the half-closed door; not impatiently, just ready to do what she had come to do. Araya let go of the handle, and it opened to admit full view of the man slumped on the winterwood cabinet, naked but for the mauve blanket cast over his shoulders and pooling about his thighs. The room had hardly been pristine to begin with, but blood smeared with dust on the surfaces he had touched whilst stumbling about unattended, the pieces of black uniform still scattered where they had landed. Boots lay askew; one upright, the other a fallen soldier. Mixed with the musty scent of old, the metallic tang of blood and queasiness of stale vomit, was the smell of the questionable damp patch. He'd been sitting in the room so long, Araya had forgotten about that. If Esenya Sedai was affected at all, she did not show it.
Hana caught him by the arm before he followed after the Sister. Her expression did not give much away, but then she was always austere edged disapproval. "You can’t take in every waif and stray, Araya."
Her brows rose purposeful meaning, lips pressed together. Including you, dearest Hana? Araya smiled, patting her fingers still cold from winter sun. He got her point, but Jai was a Brother, and Araya an Asha'man with little reputation to tarnish. And if he couldn't hold a hand out to a Brother in need, even when the reprisal marked him weak for doing so, then he came dangerously close to damning old territories - that of reconciling himself as both Tuatha'an and a man wrought to be a weapon in his very being. Better to walk the path that felt right. Even - thinking of Trista, which twisted - when it had terrible costs. "Thank you for bringing the Healer, Hana."
Her face might have cracked something of a smile; he couldn't be sure since she shook her head at the same time. Certainly there was a touch of exasperation when she met his eye. He liked to think there was fondness too. "I'll make up a bed then, shall I?"
When Hana had disappeared downstairs, he followed the Aes Sedai into the room. Though she did not turn from where she stood - several paces opposite Asha'man Kojima - she seemed to sense his presence because she spoke almost immediately. "And this is the calibre of man standing between us and the Dark One?"
Her admonishment lacked the sting Araya might have expected; her words were stately, noble – and full of a deep regret. Somehow it was worse. He glanced at Jai, and found himself hoping the man was too far gone to comprehend the condemnation. Esenya’s dark gaze studiously contemplated the man’s bowed head, his bloodied mouth and blotchy pallor beneath the enshrouding blanket. There was no sympathy, but neither was there contempt. The closest Araya could pitch her demeanour as, was a stoic sort of grief. Then her face hardened to conclusion.
"It doesn’t please me to Heal stupidity. There are men, good men, laying down their lives in the Borderlands while this man squanders Creator given life – and to what end? Duty is not supposed to be easy, Asha’man. Of course your lives are not easy. But it is no excuse."
Her gaze broke, and met Araya’s. There was a startling lack of judgement, just perception filtered through the eyes of a Borderlander. Disappointment was swallowed by a sense of resigned inevitability, like she had expected no less.
"Men make mistakes, Aes Sedai,"
he said levelly. It was hardly the moment for life-lessons to find purchase, nor was it her job to dish them out. Araya had little idea what road had led Jai to the here-and-now, nor did it matter much for him to feel inclined to help the here-and-now injuries. He'd meant what he'd said when he'd made the no-strings offer of refuge. "Will you Heal him?"
Her eyes narrowed like he had thrown an insult; which, in immediate hindsight, he supposed he had, if unintentionally. "Servant of All, Asha’man."
Esenya’s back straightened. "At least one of us here should stand up to expectation."
Closing the distance, her hand reached for Jai’s temple, the tips of her fingers sweeping back through his hair. She did not lift his head. Araya’s skin prickled at her grasp for saidar, and his jaw tightened; no chance of Jai wrestling saidin to buffer the impending cold flood, nor the toll it would take on the remaining vestiges of his energy. Not the most pleasant of experiences, but little to be done about it. Almost uncomfortable watching, he retreated to the side of the room and eventually came to rest against the Tarien dresser, his boots nestled in all the discarded fabric. And waited.
When the Aes Sedai’s hand finally drew back, it flopped to her side like the weariness had spread. Her breath drew a heavy sigh under the burden, but only for the moment it took to gather herself. Araya pushed himself up off the dresser he had been leaning on, but a brief wave of her hand brushed away his offer of hospitality before it left his lips. Tightness pinched her expression. "No need, Asha’man, though your kindness is appreciated. I am needed back at the Tower."
The emphasis there was on duty, he was sure, but Araya only nodded as she then continued to list on rote the expected aftermath of a Healing and the things that could be done to expedite the patient's recovery. Her parting was as formal as her greeting, echoed by Araya; mostly out of gratitude. She insisted on seeing herself out.
Jai was still slumped, and Araya wasn’t sure there was much keeping him upright. It was customary to eat and rest well after a Healing, though it was doubtful if he'd be able to stomach the former; rest it is then. The brief thud of footsteps warned Hana's return moments before she entered, shouldering the door because her hands were burdened by a sloshing basin of water. Not a strand of silver-laced dark blonde hair was out of its immaculate place, though her cheeks were faintly pinked from exertion. Araya gestured she pass it to him, but she ignored the offer and took it to set next to Jai. "Make yourself useful and warm the water, Araya. Drunk is no excuse for soiling good sheets, and he’s filthy with blood and muck."
"Don't you think it'd be kinder to just let him sleep it off? That Healing can't have been-"
"-I know the toll of Healing, thank you. And you know my opinion on filthy drunkards. Now, there’s no time to prepare a hot lunch so I’ve set cheese and bread on the counter downstairs. Korene will be home soon. If I have to ask you again, I'll just use the cold water."
She was already squeezing a cloth, and Araya knew better than to argue. If Hana wanted Jai clean before he slept, then that was exactly what would happen. A thread of Fire accomplished the task, and if his fellow Asha'man happened to look up it was accompanied by something of an apologetic look. Hana was ruthlessly maternal and, he imagined, Jai no more than a silly boy with a scraped knee in her eyes - Asha'man pins be damned. He watched as she removed the bowl from Jai's lap, lifting the guy's chin with one finger and angling it so he had no choice but to meet those determined grey eyes. "Asha’man Kojima. My name is Hana, and this is what's going to happen. I’m going to clean you up. Then a nice soft bed waits. No arguments."
She'd already grasped one of his hands; grip firm but uncompromising, when Araya left. He didn't come back until Hana called for him to help guide Jai to bed.
Noises drifted from downstairs; the sweetly pitched murmur of female voices. The click of a closing door. It didn't look like Jai was going to be up to any more antics - he looked pretty terrible by now, truth told - but Araya waited a few moments more before heading to the door, listening to the sounds of footsteps below as they grew clearer. By the time he'd gotten to the hallway to stand sentinel, they were making their way up the stairs; the Aes Sedai first, Hana hovering behind. The Sister was tall for a woman, and dark of hair and eye. Simplicity encapsulated the elegant lines of her dress, high-necked after a Borderland fashion and of modest steel blue colouring. He didn’t know her. “Light’s blessing, Asha’man. I am Esenya Sedai.”
Her gaze held a distinct clarity; the sort of pure, majestic confidence one only found in the north. Stable as a mountain. Araya was not really one for ceremony, but under the circumstances he thought it best to meet formality with formality.
"Thank you for coming so swiftly, Esenya Sedai. My name is Araya."
No scraping bow, though he did politely incline his head. Then paused, glancing at his fingers wound about the door handle. How best to phrase what she was going to find within? He figured Yellows - and he presumed she was likely to be one, despite no indication in her dress - were used to disturbing sights, unusual sights, heinous sights. There was no evidence of Hana's note on her person, but she would have some idea of the injuries she had come to Heal. Just not the drunk part; and that, there was no hiding once she entered. The stiff stench of it permeated from Jai's very pores. "I should preface this with an apology of sorts, Aes Sedai. Asha’man Kojima took it upon himself to self-medicate trauma with alcohol. Besides the obvious injuries, he’s not looking too good-"
She held up a pacifying hand to cut him off, and used her other to place gentle pressure on the half-closed door; not impatiently, just ready to do what she had come to do. Araya let go of the handle, and it opened to admit full view of the man slumped on the winterwood cabinet, naked but for the mauve blanket cast over his shoulders and pooling about his thighs. The room had hardly been pristine to begin with, but blood smeared with dust on the surfaces he had touched whilst stumbling about unattended, the pieces of black uniform still scattered where they had landed. Boots lay askew; one upright, the other a fallen soldier. Mixed with the musty scent of old, the metallic tang of blood and queasiness of stale vomit, was the smell of the questionable damp patch. He'd been sitting in the room so long, Araya had forgotten about that. If Esenya Sedai was affected at all, she did not show it.
Hana caught him by the arm before he followed after the Sister. Her expression did not give much away, but then she was always austere edged disapproval. "You can’t take in every waif and stray, Araya."
Her brows rose purposeful meaning, lips pressed together. Including you, dearest Hana? Araya smiled, patting her fingers still cold from winter sun. He got her point, but Jai was a Brother, and Araya an Asha'man with little reputation to tarnish. And if he couldn't hold a hand out to a Brother in need, even when the reprisal marked him weak for doing so, then he came dangerously close to damning old territories - that of reconciling himself as both Tuatha'an and a man wrought to be a weapon in his very being. Better to walk the path that felt right. Even - thinking of Trista, which twisted - when it had terrible costs. "Thank you for bringing the Healer, Hana."
Her face might have cracked something of a smile; he couldn't be sure since she shook her head at the same time. Certainly there was a touch of exasperation when she met his eye. He liked to think there was fondness too. "I'll make up a bed then, shall I?"
When Hana had disappeared downstairs, he followed the Aes Sedai into the room. Though she did not turn from where she stood - several paces opposite Asha'man Kojima - she seemed to sense his presence because she spoke almost immediately. "And this is the calibre of man standing between us and the Dark One?"
Her admonishment lacked the sting Araya might have expected; her words were stately, noble – and full of a deep regret. Somehow it was worse. He glanced at Jai, and found himself hoping the man was too far gone to comprehend the condemnation. Esenya’s dark gaze studiously contemplated the man’s bowed head, his bloodied mouth and blotchy pallor beneath the enshrouding blanket. There was no sympathy, but neither was there contempt. The closest Araya could pitch her demeanour as, was a stoic sort of grief. Then her face hardened to conclusion.
"It doesn’t please me to Heal stupidity. There are men, good men, laying down their lives in the Borderlands while this man squanders Creator given life – and to what end? Duty is not supposed to be easy, Asha’man. Of course your lives are not easy. But it is no excuse."
Her gaze broke, and met Araya’s. There was a startling lack of judgement, just perception filtered through the eyes of a Borderlander. Disappointment was swallowed by a sense of resigned inevitability, like she had expected no less.
"Men make mistakes, Aes Sedai,"
he said levelly. It was hardly the moment for life-lessons to find purchase, nor was it her job to dish them out. Araya had little idea what road had led Jai to the here-and-now, nor did it matter much for him to feel inclined to help the here-and-now injuries. He'd meant what he'd said when he'd made the no-strings offer of refuge. "Will you Heal him?"
Her eyes narrowed like he had thrown an insult; which, in immediate hindsight, he supposed he had, if unintentionally. "Servant of All, Asha’man."
Esenya’s back straightened. "At least one of us here should stand up to expectation."
Closing the distance, her hand reached for Jai’s temple, the tips of her fingers sweeping back through his hair. She did not lift his head. Araya’s skin prickled at her grasp for saidar, and his jaw tightened; no chance of Jai wrestling saidin to buffer the impending cold flood, nor the toll it would take on the remaining vestiges of his energy. Not the most pleasant of experiences, but little to be done about it. Almost uncomfortable watching, he retreated to the side of the room and eventually came to rest against the Tarien dresser, his boots nestled in all the discarded fabric. And waited.
When the Aes Sedai’s hand finally drew back, it flopped to her side like the weariness had spread. Her breath drew a heavy sigh under the burden, but only for the moment it took to gather herself. Araya pushed himself up off the dresser he had been leaning on, but a brief wave of her hand brushed away his offer of hospitality before it left his lips. Tightness pinched her expression. "No need, Asha’man, though your kindness is appreciated. I am needed back at the Tower."
The emphasis there was on duty, he was sure, but Araya only nodded as she then continued to list on rote the expected aftermath of a Healing and the things that could be done to expedite the patient's recovery. Her parting was as formal as her greeting, echoed by Araya; mostly out of gratitude. She insisted on seeing herself out.
Jai was still slumped, and Araya wasn’t sure there was much keeping him upright. It was customary to eat and rest well after a Healing, though it was doubtful if he'd be able to stomach the former; rest it is then. The brief thud of footsteps warned Hana's return moments before she entered, shouldering the door because her hands were burdened by a sloshing basin of water. Not a strand of silver-laced dark blonde hair was out of its immaculate place, though her cheeks were faintly pinked from exertion. Araya gestured she pass it to him, but she ignored the offer and took it to set next to Jai. "Make yourself useful and warm the water, Araya. Drunk is no excuse for soiling good sheets, and he’s filthy with blood and muck."
"Don't you think it'd be kinder to just let him sleep it off? That Healing can't have been-"
"-I know the toll of Healing, thank you. And you know my opinion on filthy drunkards. Now, there’s no time to prepare a hot lunch so I’ve set cheese and bread on the counter downstairs. Korene will be home soon. If I have to ask you again, I'll just use the cold water."
She was already squeezing a cloth, and Araya knew better than to argue. If Hana wanted Jai clean before he slept, then that was exactly what would happen. A thread of Fire accomplished the task, and if his fellow Asha'man happened to look up it was accompanied by something of an apologetic look. Hana was ruthlessly maternal and, he imagined, Jai no more than a silly boy with a scraped knee in her eyes - Asha'man pins be damned. He watched as she removed the bowl from Jai's lap, lifting the guy's chin with one finger and angling it so he had no choice but to meet those determined grey eyes. "Asha’man Kojima. My name is Hana, and this is what's going to happen. I’m going to clean you up. Then a nice soft bed waits. No arguments."
She'd already grasped one of his hands; grip firm but uncompromising, when Araya left. He didn't come back until Hana called for him to help guide Jai to bed.
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