The room Davel had rented in The Silver Hammer was cramped, with barely enough room to fit the narrow bed and a battered washstand.  The sounds of smiths tools ringing on anvils came through the open window, and he assumed this was the reason the room had come as cheap as it had.  That, and the generally poor quality of the food and the rooms would have kept prices down in any city in the world.  But the low cost, and more importantly the view from his window, had assured that this would be where he and his sister stayed while Davel worked up his courage to do what he had come for.

 

Turning his head from the window, he looked upon the sleeping form of his two year old reason for living.  The numbness and anger that had been a part of him since he had been reforged by the heat of the Rahad faded whenever he saw his sister, and she was rarely out of his sight.  One tiny hand, of it's own volition, raised and deposited a chubby thumb in her mouth, where she began to suckle at it while she slept.  A pink foot twitched slightly, and a hint of a smile played across Davel's lips as he watched her.  Satisfied that all was well, he turned his gaze once more out the window.

 

The gleaming walls of the White Tower rose monolithically miles away, clear against the skyline like an ivory spear stabbing upwards at the heavens.  The ancient home of Aes Sedai and their fierce warrior protectors held an almost mythical place in the minds of most men, and, especially to Tairens like himself, inspired more than a little fear that he quickly forced down.  He had stood just as he was now for the larger part of every day for nearly a week, telling himself he would gather Lyss and go now, today.  He had a debt to pay, and he was doing no one any good cowering in his room too frightened to leave.  But what would happen when he went?  It was a foregone conclusion that the Warders would scarcely be willing to suffer a toddler in their midst.  Many of the fighting men he had met in the last two years had looked upon his sister much the same as they might a two-headed cat.  Cute, if you could get past the oddity of it, but still nothing you would want to be associated with.  Others had been worse, displaying not just confusion but disgust and contempt.  He would take his sister and return to Ebou Dar before he would cast Lyss aside for his own goals, though, no matter what was said or thought.  He would even return begging to his mother, although he doubted she would allow him to step foot on her decks after what he had done.

 

Lyss stirred slightly on the bed, and he reached out a hand to comfort her.  She quieted at his touch, and he judged by the suns position that it was nearly time to end her nap and find some lunch.  Hoping that she remained asleep until he returned, he strode swiftly and quietly out of the room, shutting the door securely and clasping shut the stout iron lock he had commissioned his first day in Tar Valon.  Hand hovering near the dagger at his belt, he made his way downstairs to the common room, his stance and eyes wary for any danger.

 

The innkeeper, one Aleksa Theramin, was a rotund woman originally from Ghealdan who ran her inn with a strict temperament that melted around children, a fact that Davel had not been too proud to take advantage of.  She stood behind the bar, idly wiping off a chipped mug with a cloth and eying the two serving girls that were bringing a stream of food and drinks to the patrons, crowding the common room even at this hour.  She turned towards him as he came down, and her eyes softened when she saw him.

 

“Time for lunch sweetling?” she asked with a smile that displayed a mouthful of crooked and startlingly white teeth.  At his nod she gestured peremptorily to one of the serving girls.  “Yori, will you bring Davel his usual please?”  As Yori scuttled toward the kitchen, she looked again at Davel, a mischievous light in her eyes.  “So have you decided today is the day you allow me to adopt that beautiful little girl?  Surely you could not love her more than I.”  She asked him the same every day.  Davel was fairly sure she was only half-serious, but he was not about to take any risks.  He had not brought Lyss all this way to leave her in the care of a woman who kept a ramshackle inn and drove her employee's mercilessly, no matter how much she loved little children.

 

“Not today,” Davel replied, forcing a smile.  His eyes shifted nervously through the crowd, and his hand twitched in anticipation of grasping his daggers rough hilt.  There had not been any trouble beyond the occasional drunken fistfight in the time he had been staying here, but experience had told him that the moment he let his guard down was the moment he, or more importantly, Lyss, could be hurt.  “I'll be taking our lunch upstairs again. . .” he trailed off as he caught a flash of red through the open doorway, and his breath caught in his throat.  Unless he was very much mistaken, that had been the red cloak of a Tower Guard. 

 

He dipped two fingers hurriedly into his belt pouch and drew out several coins.  Counting out the coppers to pay for his meal, he added an extra silver penny and deposited the amount in Mistress Theramin's open hand.  Her eyebrows drew down slightly as she counted, but Davel gave her no chance to comment.  “I just saw someone I must speak to,” he said in a rush.  He knew he had to go before his courage failed him.  “I would count it a very great favor if you would take my meal upstairs and feed Lyss while I do so.  I'll return shortly.”  He only just remembered to add the key that opened the lock on his door to the small pile of coins before he turned.  Hurrying away before she could so much as take a breath to respond, he began to steel himself for what he had to do.  His heart gave a momentary pang as he contemplated leaving Lyss in anyone else's hands since the Aes Sedai in Ebou Dar, but Mistress Theramin had demonstrated her ability with Lyss several times over since he had known her.  He trusted her enough for this at least.

 

His steps started to slow as he neared the door, but he forced himself to continue on.  He had come to Tar Valon to train with the Tower Guards, and to one day bond an Aes Sedai and give his life to her protection.  It would never be enough to repay what he owed, but it was the most he could do.  And no matter what anyone said, he would tear out his own heart before he would sacrifice the only love he had left in him.

 

[OOC: In the interest of not writing for your character, I tried to leave this as open as possible.  Perhaps Thera is visiting the smithy next door, or even on her way in for a drink?  I know she's got a lot on her mind right now, so perhaps a drink would be just the thing?  Obviously, the choice is yours.]

OOC: You don’t know how perfect that image is of Thera. Before she met and married a young trainee she was a raging drunk. So it stands to reason that losing a child could bring that out again, at least slightly.

 

IC: The clatter of swords had already begun, the steady noise seeping through the window of their tiny one room house. Often Thera thought that they should have better, but her duties would not allow her to live off grounds and she’d yet to muster the courage to ask to expand this house or build another. Until she and Jasine had taken up residence, the shack had been used as a storage shed. All of its dusty contents now cleaned and dispatched to other facilities.  Rolling over in bed Thera leaned in to kiss Jasine only to find him already gone.

 

The rhythmic clacking of practice lathes should have been a clue, but now that she was fully awake Thera realized that she had overslept. Sighing and muttering a string of curses she rolled out of bed and padded across the floor to the wash stand. Just because her child had died was no excuse to shirk her duties. The young men and women who came to the yards deserved her best, and she refused to give anything less. Still, as Thera dried her face with the soft white toweling, the cloth helped to wipe away tears.

 

Her emotional storm was not as bad as it had been a month gone. Now she never cried unless she was alone, refusing to let even her husband see her pain. Picking up her brush she pulled it through her rapidly growing curls. Never in her life had she let her hair grow longer than her shoulders, but now it hung inches down her back. The newness of it, or perhaps the painful memories of their beautiful daughter it brought back, caused her to struggle as she tied her hair back from her face. Several times she had to start again. When Thera was finally dressed with her boots on and wrapped in her cloak the sun was almost to mid-day. Crossing the yards quickly she found Dragar, her second, and had him make his morning report. “ Very good, Dragar. I will leave their training in your hands today. I have a task to be about; though I will still of course expect your evening report on my desk when I return.”

 

Some whispered that she treated her second too harshly, but she’d never quite gotten over his deception. Quickly she exited the yards and took the first chance she had to duck into a darkly shadowed alley. With her back against the cold stone and her eyes squeezed tight she tried to will away the tears. “No! Not now!” Pressing the palms of her hands roughly against her eyes she wiped way the few tears that had escaped. With a shaking hand she reached into her cloak for her flask, but found only a small slip of paper. The light that reached the depths of the alley was faint, but it was enough for her to make out Jasine’s hand.

 

Light of my heart: I will not sit idly by and watch you lose yourself again to booze. Stay strong.

Jasine

 

Crumpling the paper Thera slapped her fist straight back against the wall, which only caused another more violent string of curses. Shoving the note back where her flask should be, the slipped back out into the crowded streets. For nearly three blocks she fought the aching in her heart, but by street four she could fight it no longer. Spotting an inn The Sliver Hammer Thera pushed her way through the crowds, barely missing being hit by a cart and almost knocking a woman with a tray of pins to the ground. She stopped to apologize to both, but the red of the cloak and the knots of rank on her shoulder allowed that to be the end of it. Only slightly more composed she took a seat at a vacant table and ordered ale. At the startled look from the young serving woman she added a meal and changed her ale to wine. This early in the day a high ranking member of the Tower Guard drinking ale would cause talk.

 

When the wine and the food was placed in front of her, Thera struggled with gripping the cup. Her heart ached and she knew she could lose her pain in the drink, but her mind reeled with the affects it could cause. Her drinking had been the final straw in the loss of her bonded, and had been the reason she’d nearly lost her title as Mistress of Trainee’s. Was the temporary freedom of pain worth risking all that she had?

 

OOC: Sorry, this was a quick write up. I didn't get a chance to edit for typo's  ;D

[OOC:  I couldn't be happier that Davel's story fits in so well with your own.  The sister, the common room, it makes it that much more conflicting and interesting.  And no worries about any typo's.  I'm just glad to get a response.  ;)]

 

As Davel neared the doorway, he had to skip quickly to the side in order to avoid the Tower Guard he had seen.  She strode in with a look that said her thoughts were miles away and as grim as death, and she didn't even seem to notice that she had nearly run him down. 

 

He stood as he was for a moment and observed her, struggling all over again with the idea of starting the conversation that would move his and his sister's life forward.  She looked to be in no mood for conversation, and the knots of rank on her shoulder only lent her a further air of being inapproachable.  He wondered briefly what had brought a high-ranking officer of the Tower Guard to a place like this, and decided that her reasons were her own and no concern of his.

 

The woman exchanged words briefly with Yori, and as the serving woman hurried to the kitchen with her order, Mistress Theramin made as if to approach the table the officer had occupied.  The Silver Hammer surely had never had such an honorable patron, and Aleksa Theramin was not about to let an opportunity pass to tout her establishment.  Davel managed to catch her eye before she had made more than half a step toward the table, though, and gave her a subtle signal that he would approach her himself.  For a wonder, Mistress Theramin took a step back with a wry look.  She disappeared briefly into the kitchen and emerged with a plate of food, heading upstairs towards Davel's room, sparing a moment to give Davel a small and affectionate smile of  encouragement.

 

The innkeeper and Davel were not the only ones to glance surreptitiously at the red cloaked Tower Guard in their midst.  The voices of the other patrons had sunk to whispers, and they examined her through lidded eyes that she seemed not to notice.  Soon Yori had returned with a plate of food and a glass of wine, and the officer lost herself in looking into the depths of her wineglass.  Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the glass, and for the first time Davel noticed that her eyes were rimmed in red.  Surely she had not been crying?  Most likely she had simply not gotten enough sleep the night before.

 

With a deep breath to bolster his courage, Davel took a heavy step toward the table where she sat.  He was doing no more good for himself staring at her than he had been staring anxiously at the White Tower from his room upstairs.  Three uneasy paces later and he was standing next to her, his hand opening and closing convulsively on the hilt of his dagger out of nervous anxiety.  She continued to gaze at the surface of her wine without drinking, and her food sat untouched in front of her.  Only for a moment did she sit as she was before she turned her gaze towards him.  Her eyes touched briefly on his hand at his dagger, and she shifted in her seat in a manner that spoke of a readiness to move quickly should the need arise.  He hurriedly dropped his hand so she wouldn't think he meant any aggression, and cleared his throat before speaking.

 

“Pardon for disturbing your...meal,” he started, with a look at her untouched food and drink.  “I was hoping you could show me the way to the Warders Yard?  I've come to Tar Valon to train with the Warders.”  Her eyebrows twitched slightly, but she remained otherwise expressionless, her eyes unwaveringly meeting his own.  Davel continued before she could respond.  If he did not tell her now, he might never find the courage.  “I am not alone, though.  My sister is here too, and she has nobody to care for her but me.  She's only two, and she needs me,” he refrained from adding that he needed her as well.  “I won't give her up.”  At the last he allowed a defiant tone to enter his voice, and he did not stop his hand from rising once more to grip his dagger.  He wanted, no needed, to train with the Warders, but no less than he needed the only family he had left.  Apart than those two things, he had nothing else.

 

[OOC: I'm not familiar with the policy here, but should I change the color of the dialog, or is that just a personal affect you like?  If it's necessary I can edit the post.]

OOC: I was proud of myself. Only had one mistake!! WooHoo!! Some people choose a color for their character’s words and some do not. It is personal preference.

 

IC:

Her knuckles were white against she cup, and her other hand was pressed flat to the table. Stay Strong She could see the words burning, written in white hot fire in front of her eyes. They had been written with love and with the best intent, but they were slowly tearing her apart.

 

Her head was clouded with the rapid, rhythmic beating of her heart, and her eyes seemed to have blocked out every other image but the tall glass of wine.  The drink called to her, the sweet aroma of the berries seducing her senses. It’s lightly shimmering surface was tantalizing, the ripples in the surface seemed like a dance to her eyes. A shift in the table caused the ripples to quicken and reality came crashing home. Thera let out a long, silent breath and eyed the young at her table. She saw the tension around his eyes and the nervous way he gripped at his dagger. Shifting slightly she checked the knives in her sleeves and down her back, but made no other move. Her caramel colored eyes were intent, but inside she upbraided herself.

 

Now you are letting a young lout with a dagger frighten you. You were so lost in your booze that an assassin could have slit your throat and you would have died thinking about wine. Fool!

 

Another trainee? She should have known by the nervous shift to his feet. Feeling back on familiar ground, and happily distracted from the wine Thera listened to his story. Over her years as Mistress of Trainee’s she had heard many, and his words carried the ring of simple truth. “I am not alone, though.  My sister is here too, and she has nobody to care for her but me.  She's only two, and she needs me,”

 

And as quick as that she was spinning again. A child, a helpless child who needed caring for….. It was Tower policy to accept no one who already had children, but this was only his sister, and a little girl. A sweet, defenseless, helpless little girl. Clearing her throat Thera eyed his dagger again and reached out to gently place her hand over his. With his weapon secure she guided him to a sitting position next to her. “You will not be needing that, not against me son. Not ever.” Letting go she sat up straight and folded her hands on the table; pointedly trying to ignore the wine. “It seems the Creator has smiled on you. Not only can I show you to the Warders Yard, I can enroll you. My name is Thera Trakelyn, Mistress of Trainee, in service to the White Tower.” Rarely did she give her title so formally, but she felt as if she had to make up for being seen with wine so early in the day.

 

She waited until the boy had introduced himself, before addressing the issue of his sister. “It is Tower policy to accept no one into the books who has already bore a child. I understand that she is not yours, but I fear the heart of the rule would cover your situation as well.” It broke her heart as she spoke the rule, knowing how disheartened he would be. But she couldn’t see a way to let him break the rule.

 

If she let him pass she could be seen as weak and that could lead to the loss of her job. A Tower Guard could be many things, but being branded as weak was as good as a death sentence. Especially to one in a position of authority such as she was.

 

“I am sorry child, but she cannot live with you in the barracks and there is no one given over to tending children. Perhaps we could find someone in the city who would adopt her? I assure you the Aes Sedai could find her a good home.”

As he finished speaking he saw her once again get a faraway look in her eyes, and he wondered if she had heard him.  Any doubts that he might have had as to how aware she was of him were dispelled quickly, however, when she trapped his hand at his hilt beneath her own.  Her palms were rough with years worth of calluses, no doubt from long hours spent with a hilt in her hand, and he felt a strength in them as he allowed himself to be guided into the seat next to her.  When she told him he had nothing to fear from her, he believed her, and his confidence was further bolstered by the quiet and calm authority in her voice as she introduced herself.

 

Light, the Mistress of Trainee's herself?!  What are the odds against that?

 

His optimism faded quickly as she continued, though.  The White Tower would accept no one with a child?  Had he come all this way for nothing?  No.  He would not allow it.  He owed Aes Sedai for Lyss's life.  He owed them his heart, and if he gave up on repaying his debt it would destroy him.  But how could he convince them to allow him to train without giving up his sister?  His sweet sister. . .His mind flashed with images of her.  The first time he had seen her, red-faced and squalling on the deck of his mothers ship.  The way she would smile and laugh playing in the fountains he had bathed her in while they lived on the streets of Ebou Dar.  He even recalled how terrified he had been when he thought her near death, and his heart clenched at the memory.  With that thought, though, he could not help but to remember the Aes Sedai that had saved her life.  He had scarcely known her and her Warder, had in fact spent less than an hour with them, but their faces stood out as clearly in his mind as the memories of his sister.  As simply as that, he knew beyond any doubts that he would not give up.  No matter what had to be done, he would become a Warder, and remain a faithful brother.  Nothing would change that.

 

Thera's voice snapped him out of his reverie.  “I am sorry child, but she cannot live with you in the barracks and there is no one given over to tending children. Perhaps we could find someone in the city who would adopt her? I assure you the Aes Sedai could find her a good home.”

 

Adopt?  Davel's lip curled in a snarl at the very thought.  How dare she?  She had just begun to win his trust, but all the progress she might have made was dashed with that simple statement.  Of course, he had never expected that he and his sister would continue as they had once he gained responsibilities, but the most he had thought to happen was perhaps a sort of temporary guardianship with some servant of the Tower.  Evidently there was no such servant.  He had thought, before he had come here, that surely even Aes Sedai and their apprentices would occasionally get with child, but it seemed that this was not the case.  Truthfully, he had given the issue very little consideration.  Foolish, true, but avoiding the issue had seemed much simpler than anything else. 

 

He had to face the reality though.  Wish and try as he might, he truly had come to far to turn back now, and it was useless to hope that things would remain as they had.  Indeed, he hoped that by becoming a Tower Guard and Warder he could improve not only his own life, but Lyss's as well.  So he had to do what must be done.  Whatever that was, so long as he did not lose his sister.

 

He saw Thera next to him, watching him intently but allowing him his own thoughts.  Raising his hand, he motioned over a serving girl whose name he did not know and ordered an ale.  Normally he would not drink when he knew he should be caring for his sister, but he felt a drink would be just the thing to calm his nerves.  Thera twitched an eyebrow but said nothing.  He had reached his majority, and could take a drink if he needed one.  Besides, under his mothers care he had been drinking ale and wine shortly after he could walk.  His drink arrived, and as he raised it to his lips, he noticed Thera had still not touched her wine.  Why had she ordered it if she wasn't thirsty?  With several quick gulps the mug was empty, and as he set it on the table with a thump that rattled the dishes holding Thera's meal, he once again raised his gaze to meet her own caramel colored eyes.  She stared back at him without blinking, the redness he had seen earlier now a faded memory.  Davel stood, and her eyes followed him as he did so.

 

“Perhaps you would like to meet Lyss?  She's upstairs right now.”  Thera sat motionless for a moment, and Davel got the impression that she would refuse his offer.  He vowed to himself that if she did not so much as give his sister that chance, he would take Lyss and return to Tear, and to the Pit of Doom with what he owed to Aes Sedai.  Just as he opened his mouth to repeat his question, though, she pushed her chair back with a squeal and motioned him to lead the way, eyes tight and her stance betraying her reluctance.

 

Turning away without another word, he made his way up the stairs toward his room.  As he climbed, he reflected on the fact that he felt completely at ease having a relative stranger with weapons at her belt at his back.  Perhaps she had not lost as much trust as he had thought.

 

The door to his room was opened slightly, and when he reached it he pushed it open completely.  Mistress Theramin sat on the bed next to Lyss, making cooing noises and vainly attempting to coerce a spoonful of steamed peas and potatoes into the child's mouth.  Lyss had her arms crossed and her face drawn down in a pout, tossing her head back and forth to avoid the morsel.  When she saw Davel at the doorway though, her face brightened and she hopped off the bed, crowing with delight. 

 

“Davel!”  Lyss exclaimed in her beautiful, high pitched voice and she ran forward to throw her arms around his legs.  “Mean lady tried to make me eat degtables.”

 

“Vegetables, sweetheart,” Davel said with an amused smile, enunciating the first syllable clearly.

 

“I know!  Degtables is gross!”

 

Mistress Theramin cast Davel an exasperated look.  “Thank the light you came back.  I couldn't get her to eat one bite.”  She looked curiously over Davel's shoulder at Thera, who stood stock still in the doorway.

 

“Thank you anyway, mistress,” Davel replied, glancing back himself to get a better view of Thera.  She was stiff as a fence post, her eyes riveted on the squirming form at Davel's feet.  “We will take it from here.”  Without another word Mistress Theramin stood and straightened her apron, then edged  past Thera in the doorway to make her way back down to the common room.  Davel noticed that despite her failure at feeding Lyss, she did not offer to return the silver penny he had paid her to do so.

 

Scooping up Lyss in his arms, he carried her back over to the bed and set her down next to her as yet untouched lunch.  “Time to eat your vegetables, Lyss.  Say it with me.  Veg-a-ta-bles.”

 

“Vegables.”  Lyss said cheerfully, opening her mouth as wide as it would go to allow the spoon in.

 

“Close enough,” Davel laughed, popping in the bits of food.  He saw motion out of the corner of his eye, and he gave a start.  He had lost himself in his interactions with his sister, and had almost forgotten Thera.  She still had not taken her eyes from Lyss, and the way she stood, every muscle tense, made him think she was ready to flee.  He made a quick decision to try and set her at ease.  “Would you like to feed her the rest of her lunch?”

 

At that Thera's eyes widened, and her hand started to rise before she let it fall back to her side.  Davel and Lyss watched her, one intent and one childishly curious, patiently awaiting her response.

Thera had lived enough years and seen enough to know that the last thing a man wanted while he was in pain, was comfort. Facing the truth or learning that life had dealt you a bad hand affected each man in a different way, but the one consistent truth across the board was the need for space. She allowed him the minutes he needed to process the news, taking the time to push her wine cup a little farther away.

 

When he order ale her hands twitched, but she couldn’t say a word. As he raised the mug to his mouth and the warm dark liquid passed through his lips Thera shivered and tried to keep her mind on the task at hand. The young man needed her help and her guidance, he was a long way from home with a large problem and right now she could be the key to unlocking a solution. Wiping her clammy hands on her pants she waited, not the slightest bit shocked as he jumped up from the table.

 

She’d weathered many tough times in her own life, and come out on the other side, but she was not ready for the ten little words that tumbled from his mouth next. “Perhaps you would like to meet Lyss? She’s upstairs right now.” The world ceased to breathe and for a moment so did she. The quiet murmur of the other guests faded into nothingness and all images were replaced with one; a tiny baby, wrapped in swaddling, blue eyes peering up and her through brown curls that had just grown long enough to fall into her face. Ella A flood of hot tears threatened her eyes and Thera fought them back as hard as she had ever fought a Trolloc. Standing up abruptly she motioned him to lead the way, thankful not to have his prying eyes studying her face any longer.

 

Each step up the stairs was agony, but all the pain she’d felt trying to resist the booze had nothing on the torment that wracked her as she saw the child. The little girl was as perfect as a child could be, with round pink cheeks and a small mouth turned down in a pout. Thera’s heart shattered and she had to assume the void to keep from collapsing on the floor and dissolving into tears.

 

As the child tottered across the floor, closer to Davel and closer to herself, she took an unbidden step back. The small room seemed tiny and cramped, with no way to escape her innocent eyes.

 

“I know!  Degtables is gross!”

 

Oh Light!! She wanted to writhe in agony. This was a torture worse than being put to the question. Her eyes were riveted to the tiny form, so captivated that she didn’t notice as the Innkeeper left the room, and didn’t realize that she was standing alone in the doorway; Davel already sitting on the bed.

 

“Would you like to feed her the rest of her lunch?”

 

Her thin eye brows tried to climb from her face and her eyes tried to pop from her head. A trembling hand started to rise to her chest, where inside her coat she had a small locket painted with a picture of the child she’d lost. Realizing that she must look like a fool she dropped her hand to her waist and used it to move her sword as she came into the room and shut the door. Walking to the bed she knelt down so that she and Lyss were nearly eye to eye.

 

Small children had always made her uncomfortable, even as a child herself she had avoided others her age until she reached her teen years. They were seldom predictable and often cried for no reason she could see. Her mother had always commented that she didn’t think Thera would ever develop a maternal instinct, and yet when Ella was born all of her fears about children changed into fears about being a good mother. Staring now into little Lyss’s eyes Thera knew that she wanted a child more than anything in the world. It was a revelation large enough to make her unsteady on her feet and Thera had to drop down and sit back on her knee’s to keep from fainting.

 

“Hello Lyss, My name is Thera. It is a great pleasure to meet you.” Her voice was light, and kind; nothing like the tone she used with her trainee’s. She managed, just barely to keep her hand from shaking as she reached up to brush hair out of the child’s face. “You know, I used to think vegetables were gross too” Her tiny face split into a smile and she giggled, holding her mouth open for more food.

 

Swallowing, and gathering courage Thera stood up and walked across the room to take off her sword belt and cloak and lay them carefully by the door. Sitting down next to Davel, a little stiffly, she took the spoon and filled it with potatoes before smiling and offering it to the precious little girl. Shockingly she took it without compunction and opened her mouth for more. Thera's hand was shaking as she scooped spoonful after spoonful, but a smile wreathed her face. “She is perfect Davel, truly…but..” The little girl cooed and bounced the bed, reaching out her neck to get at the spoon that Thera held frozen in the air. She had been about to say that there was nothing to be done except adopt her out, but the words wouldn’t come. “but…..I..I do not know what I can do Davel. There are rules for a reason and it is my job to enforce them.”  In typical two year old fashion, impatient about waiting any longer Lyss crawled across the bed and into Thera’s lap to reach the spoon.

 

This time Thera did cry, and there was nothing in the world that could have stopped her tears.

 

OOC: Sorry to saddle you with a crying MoT :'(

 

Davel tried to keep all expression from his face as Thera walked over and introduced herself to Lyss.  He did not know why, but he could clearly sense Thera's hesitance at being near his sister, and he didn't want to do anything to disrupt her.  Allowing Thera the chance to know the girl, and hopefully form some sort of bond with her, was perhaps his only chance at weathering the crisis at hand.  He watched calmly, not moving so much as a muscle, as Thera removed her sword belt and cloak, and came back to  take an awkward seat between himself and his sister.

 

He wasn't startled that Lyss chose to accept food from Thera, when she had adamantly refused to eat from the innkeepers hand.  While she seemed troubled, Thera's demeanor seemed natural toward the small girl.  That, combined with Davel's presence, put Lyss completely at her ease, and she ate with a fervor no less than it would have been had Thera been feeding her sweets.

 

“She is perfect Davel, truly...but,” she hesitated, and Davel could see a shimmering of unshed tears in her eyes as she struggled to continue.  She sounded sincere, but less vehement than she had downstairs.  Perhaps Davel's hopes that Thera might relent upon meeting Lyss weren't for nothing.  “But…..I..I do not know what I can do Davel. There are rules for a reason and it is my job to enforce them.”  Lyss, impatient at waiting for Thera to finish speaking and eager to finish her lunch, crawled over and deposited herself in Thera's lap in order to better reach the food.  Davel, watching carefully, was amazed to see Thera, a high-ranking officer in the Tower Guard and Mistress of Trainee's in service to the White Tower, dissolve into tears.

 

He found himself completely stunned.  His only real experience with female's had been at his mothers side, and she had never cried.  It was his assumption that women who cried were weak, something to be pitied but never taken seriously.  Weakness, however, was not an impression that he got from Thera Trakelyn.  She seemed to him to be a woman of incredible will, that brooked no nonsense from those under her.  There must be something powerful and sincere taking place in order to bring her to tears, and Davel had no idea how to handle the situation.

 

As he sat, shifting uncomfortably, Lyss solved the problem for him.  Lifting a tiny hand to wipe away the tears coursing down Thera's cheeks, she looked intently into the woman's red-rimmed eyes, and Thera looked back.  Lyss put her hands gently around Thera's neck, and Davel could clearly hear the simple words she whispered in an attempt to stem Thera's flow of tears.

 

“S'okay Tera.  You don't hafta cry.”

 

This did nothing to stop Thera's weeping, despite the childish mispronunciation of her name.  If anything, it only brought about another storm of sobs.  Davel saw a tremulous smile appear on her face, though, as Thera wrapped her own arms tightly around Lyss's tiny form. 

 

Davel was feeling more uncomfortable as the moments passed and Thera continued crying.  She still clung to Lyss, and his sister seemed unlikely to relinquish her hold on the Mistress of Trainee's.  Deciding quickly that now was the time to press his advantage, Davel began telling Thera Lyss's short but dramatic story.

 

Reaching out his hand, he brushed nervously at Thera's shoulder to gain her attention.  When she turned to look at him, her face still masked behind a curtain of tears, he turned his gaze to his lap where he was nervously fiddling with her hands before he found the courage to begin. 

 

“My mother was a Tairen pirate,”  he began in a quiet voice.  “For fifteen years she raised me to follow in her footsteps, and I was fairly happy with this.  It was an exciting life to say the least.  I saw my first life taken at five, and was participating in raids along the coast of Illian by the age of ten.”  He continued on, telling her few details about his own childhood, but enough to give her an impression of what would have been in store for Lyss had she been brought up in the same atmosphere. 

 

He told Thera about how he had felt when Lyss was born.  The protectiveness and burning love in his chest when he first saw her, emotions that had not faded in more than two years since.  When he spoke of his feelings for his sister, he saw the most minute of expressions fly across her face, gone so quick that he was unable to read it, but defined enough for him to be sure he had seen something.  Had she had family, once?  What had happened to leave her  so vulnerable when confronted with this situation?  Mentally shaking his head, he once again reminded himself that her business was her own, and he continued on.

 

He spoke of jumping ship in Ebou Dar, of spending weeks hiding out in cramped attics and back streets to avoid his mother and her men.  He explained how he had sunk to stealing to feed his sister, how he provided for her for years living as as best he could on the streets of the Rahad.  He made it clear that he had never wanted anything beyond his sisters company, to watch her grow and develop, and keep her safe.  All these things he had, and they had all the necessities, until she came down with a sickness that began to steal her life in front of his very eyes, and there was nothing he could do to heal her.  Only then had he begun to realize that perhaps he couldn't properly care for a small child, and the helplessness left him paralyzed with fear more days than not.

 

As Davel went on to tell the story of meeting the Aes Sedai and her Warder, he noticed that her flow of tears had subsided, although she still hung on to Lyss, where the small girl seemed perfectly content to stay.  In fact, she seemed to be falling asleep on Thera's shoulder.

 

“So you see,” he finished, “I owe the Aes Sedai more than my life.  I cannot renege on my debt, but it would be worse than pointless to sacrifice my relationship with my sister to accomplish this.  Surely there must be something that can be done.” 

 

It was difficult to read Thera's expression as they sat there.  Nervous at having bared himself so completely to a relative stranger, he stood and walked slowly across the room in an effort to get his own emotions under control.  Thera's hand rose to Lyss's head as he paced back and forth, and the warrior woman he believed was one of the strongest women he had ever met, either pirating or in the Rahad, tenderly stroked back the soft brown curls as the child slept peacefully in her arms.

 

“There must be something I can do,” he said, gesturing frantically.  He truly was becoming desperate now.  If this final act failed, all hope was lost.  “I would never ask you to betray the standards of the White Tower, but surely there is a family that could take in a child?  Not to adopt, but perhaps to foster while I finish my training?  I love Lyss, as does she love me, but she needs a mother.  She needs a family, and it would be a monumental disservice to deny her that.  Just the way she has responded to you is evidence of the fact that she herself wants someone to care for her as only a mother can, even if she is not fully aware of it.  If we can find such a family, than we will not be betraying anything.  I can train and serve the White Tower without a child under my feet,” his heart broke a little as he uttered these words, but he forced himself to continue.  “I would, of course, spend my free time with her.  I would even provide money for support, all that I can.  If there is a stipend for trainee's, I would relinquish that to whomever was caring for Lyss.  I would relinquish anything.”

 

He stilled his feet and his words, looking cautiously at Thera as she continued her stroking of Lyss's hair.  The little girl looked more beautiful than ever to him at that moment, and even Thera seemed to be glowing as she held her, more relaxed than she had seemed since he had first told her of his sister.  Davel didn't know what she would say at this point, but if ever there was a chance at getting what he needed from this confusing woman, it was now.

Her hands slowly stroked the small child as tears began to wet her shirt and neck. Not all the money or ale in the world could have stopped the water now that the flood gates had been opened.

 

Her breath caught and she tensed as the child wrapped her tiny little arms around her neck.

 

“S'okay Tera.  You don't hafta cry.”

 

“heh…” The first sound Thera had made since the tears began was to start laughing while the tears still flowed. Lyss so was innocent and so caring, all the things she’d known her daughter would have been had she lived to this age. Hugging the little one as tightly as she dared, Thera buried her face in the child’s hair. Closing her eyes and trying to memorize the feeling.

 

She was brought out of her revelry by Davel, and her hard pain filled eyes met his still streaming with tears. As the story unfolded and the small child’s life was laid before her, a strength and determination came to Thera and the tears slowed, and then stopped all together. Still she did not loosen her grip on the sweet little girl. She couldn’t…not yet.

 

“I would, of course, spend my free time with her.  I would even provide money for support, all that I can.  If there is a stipend for trainee's, I would relinquish that to whomever was caring for Lyss.  I would relinquish anything.”

 

Thera’s heart began to beat faster in her chest and little Lyss shifted at the extra noise. Trying to keep her words soft and her breath in check she fought to regain her composure and calm.

 

“One truth deserves another Davel.” Smiling down at the tiny sleeping form Thera spilled out her own tale. “I am married to a member of the Tower Guard, Jasine Al”Thorin and a little more than a year ago I found out I was with child.” Briefly she explained the issues this caused and the leave she was forced to take, before getting back to the heart of the story.

 

“Not long ago I gave birth to a child. A little girl… Ella Relain Al’Thorin” A smile painted Davel’s lips for a moment and Thera pushed on before she lost her nerve. “She died, passed away at only a few weeks old, in her sleep. There was nothing to be done for it, even living surrounded by Aes Sedai was not enough to save her…” Realizing that she was clutching the sleeping child tightly to her chest Thera loosed her grip and stood up slowing. With all the tenderness of a mother she lay the child down and tucked her in to the little bed.

 

Turning back she looked her new trainee in the eyes. “You see now why seeing Lyss was so hard for me?” There was a small question in her voice and her eyes begged the boy not to tell of this night. “I believe that perhaps I can help you. I had hired a wet nurse for Ella, a wonderful older woman with three grown children and 6 grandchildren. Marria is gentle and kind, but also firm, the perfect woman for a little girl. She has still been staying on, to help me adjust and to….. needless to say she would love to keep her job. Perhaps….”

 

Oh Light! Was she a fool for this?!?! What would the Aes Sedai say? Not allowing  herself anymore time to think she blurted the words out in a rush. “Lyss can live with Jasine and I. We will care for her like our own, and your money will not be needed.  Marria will take care of her while I work. You may be spared time to visit her, but you have to know that training is hard and there may be weeks between when you have time for even a short visit. It is a fact of life in the yards….but Davel.” She walked across the room and took the boys hand in her own. “I can assure you there is no better place for Lyss and no two people, three if you count Marria who can love her more?”

 

Somehow she could explain this all to her superiors, and take any punishments they set. She had made them agree to her own child, this little one should pose no issue…she hoped.

 

“What do you say Davel? I am afraid this is your only option other than adoption.”

 

Davel swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, and blinked to clear away the stinging in his eyes.  Thera's story had touched him more than she could know, even with her knowing how and why he and Lyss had come to Tar Valon.  He had thought, before, that no one could understand the gibbering terror, the frustrating helplessness that had left him wanting nothing more than to huddle in a dark room and wail.  When Lyss had been on death's edge, with him simply than a bystander, he had felt that way.  In Thera he found a kindred spirit in sorrow, and although he hadn't fully come to know this woman yet, he felt closer to her now that he knew what they shared.  True, Ella had died where Lyss had lived, but that didn't make the pain and fear he had felt less real. 

 

And he, all unknowing, had brought another little girl into Thera's life, so soon on the heels of the loss of her own daughter.  Was it a wild coincidence, or was the Wheel weaving them into a pattern neither of them knew of?  Davel decided not to question the situation, and said an old catechism in his head.  The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. 

 

Still, it seemed too good to be true.  He had been beginning to despair of finding a solution to his problem, and Thera had solved it for him.  He wouldn't have to adopt Lyss out or renege on his debt to the White Tower.  Here was a way he could have both, if only  he could bring himself to trust the woman before him.

 

With a small amount of surprise, he realized that this wasn't going to be a problem.  It had been so long since he had known security that the very idea of trust had almost become something foreign to him, and at first he hadn't recognized the feelings burgeoning in his chest.  He had faith in Thera Trakelyn.  As his Mistress of Trainee's, he knew he would work hard to prove himself worthy, and as a surrogate mother for Lyss, he felt confident in placing his heart in her hands.  Watching her with the eyes of fierce protection, he had seen the tenderness and warmth in her with Lyss, and the way she spoke of taking her in, of the love she had to share, told him of honesty and earnestness.  Thera may only have had a daughter for a matter of weeks before she was cruelly taken, but she was a mother in her heart forever. 

 

“I say that sounds wonderful.”  Davel squeezed Thera's hand and ventured a small smile, and did nothing to clear the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks.  He wept for Ella, for Thera's loss.  He wept at his own remembrance of coming close to losing a child.  Most of all though, he wept at the end of a life he had known.  For two years, he had been all there was for Lyss, and she for him.  That would change now, but he would not flinch at what must be done.  And all things considered, this truly was the best option.  There was only one last thing to do.  “I would meet this Jasine, however.  And Marria as well.”  The wet nurse he added as an afterthought.  She was a professional, and he had little concern over her abilities.  Jasine, though, was another story.  This was a man that would become as a father to Lyss?  Was he worthy of such responsibility?  That Thera loved him spoke some slight favor in his benefit, but Davel would judge for himself.  Thera he knew could be a mother to his sister, but he must now meet the man who would take his place.

Thera’s hands gripped Davel’s tight and she smiled at him through fresh tears. This time they were tears of joy, not of the sadness that had eaten away at her all these long months. Leaning in she kissed both of Davel’s cheeks lightly and reached out to embrace him in a hug. Affection was foreign to her, but she squeezed him with all the strength she had, leaving them both a little breathless. “You have given me back a piece of my heart. I can never thank you enough for that.” Squeezing his hands one last time she walked over to say a tearful goodbye to Lyss.

 

“I will be back tomorrow with Jasine, so that you two can meet. I will send Marria by this evening, she will be thrilled to meet our little Lyss.”

 

With a large smile and a spring in her step she rushed back to the Tower grounds to tell Jasine the good news. 

 

Davel was stunned at the change in Thera as she left his room in the Silver Hammer.  When he had first seen her enter the common room, he had been sure this was a woman of rare smiles, and even less frequent close embraces.  But within the scant hour he had known her, she had been transformed.  He had seen her strict and commanding, vulnerable and fearful, and even tearful and trembling.  At first appearing a harsh and troubled woman, he had seen her become speechless and frightened when confronted with the sight of his small sister.  Then, he had experienced both her sympathy and empathy when he had told her the little girl's story, and now she seemed a new woman entirely.  She had left his presence with tears of joy coursing down her cheeks, and a bounce in her step that betrayed a light heart and a shine glimpsed at the end of a long tunnel that had seemed endless.

 

Putting Thera out of his mind for the moment, Davel turned to his sister.  She was once more asleep, having awoken only briefly for Thera's emotional goodbye.  His mind whirled in a thousand directions, and he sat down beside her, suddenly dizzy.  How was he to explain to this innocent girl, barely more than a babe, that she was now to live with someone else?  How could he possibly make her understand that while he loved her with his entire heart, and would until his dying day, that he had responsibilities, both to himself and to her, and this was the only way to meet them?  He discovered he did not have the words, nor the heart yet to wake her in an attempt to find them.  Giving up for the moment, Davel contented himself with curling up next to her.  Wrapping his arms around her and clutching her to his chest, he drifted off into a troubled sleep.

 

His eyes snapped open hours later to the sound of a rapping at his door.  Deeply set instincts caused him to be up and halfway to the doorway before he was fully awake, his heart pounding in his chest and his dagger half drawn.  Only when he reached hesitantly toward the latch did he remember Thera telling him she would be sending over the wet nurse this evening to meet Davel and Lyss.  As he swung the door open, he tried in vain to recall her name.  Well, no matter that he couldn't remember it.  She was sure to introduce herself.

 

As the door swung fully open, he took in the woman standing opposite him.  She was bordering on stout, and of a height with Davel.  Her hair was completely gray, and tied back in a loose bun.  Smile lines perched delicately at her eyes and the corners of her mouth showed her to be a kind woman, and indeed, as Davel regarded her, she grinned broadly, showing a row of perfectly straight teeth.  Unclasping hands that she had held in front of her, she reached out to shake Davel's hand.

 

“I am Marria, Mistress Trakelyn's hired wet nurse?”  Emphasizing the last word, she turned the statement into a question.  “I trust I am speaking to young Davel?”  At his nod, she continued.  “Thera tells me you're a new trainee, and she will be caring for a certain beautiful young sister of yours while you complete your training.  She hired me to help with her child, but after the tragedy, she kept me on.  Mostly out of need for someone to help her with her heartache, I imagine.  I lost a child myself when I was just a girl, so I know something of her pain.  Lucky for all involved that I stuck around though, eh?  Now I'll still have a darling girl to help care for.  May I meet her?”

 

Stunned at the barrage, Davel could only give a shaky nod and step aside, gesturing toward Lyss, now stirring on the bed.  If this woman was as free with her love as she was with her conversation, Lyss would be well cared for indeed.

 

“Oh my, she is lovely isn't she?  What lovely brown curls!  And those eyes, so blue!  Oh how very pretty she is.” 

 

Lyss looked questioningly at Davel, unsure of what this woman was doing and whether or not to be frightened, but content to stay calm as long as he was accepting it.  Davel smiled at her reassuringly, and she calmed, suffering Marria's attentions. 

 

“She hasn't been sleeping all evening, has she?”  Marria looked at Davel accusingly, and took in his own rumpled, slept in clothing.  “You both have!  My stars, young children these days.  How do you expect her to sleep through the night now?  She won't, that's what.  She'll be up half the night, and sleep all through tomorrow morning.  For shame.  Has she eaten?  Have you?  I'll wager not.  Well, off with you.  Downstairs and fetch some supper for the two of you.  Don't bother for me, I've had my dinner, and hours ago at that, as all reasonable people have.  Go on, shoo.  Lyss and I will get to know each other a bit while you're gone.”  She hustled Davel out the door, not allowing him to get a word out.  Not that he had the presence of mind to speak if she had.  Before he was fully aware of what was happening, he was standing puzzled outside the door to his own rooms, without having said a single word to this woman.  Seeing no other option, he turned and headed downstairs to do as he had been bid.

 

He returned less than a quarter hour later bearing a tray laden with finely chopped beef, sliced apples, a small serving of beets, and two tall glasses of chilled milk.  Nudging open the door with his foot so as not to spill, he stopped in the doorway, surprise etched on his face.

 

Marria and Lyss were engaged in some sort of child's game that Davel couldn't identify.  It seemed to consist mostly of the child chasing the older woman around the small room, and if she caught her, which happened twice in the short time Davel watched, her reward was to be bodily put on the bed and tickled until she managed to squirm away.  Then the process would begin again, Lyss shrieking in delight.  Davel gave a moments consideration to the sounds possibly disturbing nearby patrons of the inn, and decided that as long as Lyss was enjoying herself this much, he didn't care.

 

When Lyss caught sight of him in the doorway, she laughed and ran toward him, hoping to include him in their sport.  With a chuckle of his own, he danced away and set the tray on the stand before she caused him to spill it, then scooped her up in his arms and proceeded to tickle mercilessly, not allowing her to escape until she was thoroughly out of breath.

 

“I hope you don't mind, young sir,”  Marria said to him when he finally released his sister.  “I figured an energetic game might be just the thing to tire her out and give her the best chance at falling asleep again at any sort of decent hour.  A good meal after this and it just might do the trick.  Do you mind?”  She gray haired woman gestured toward the tray, indicated a desire to feed Lyss her dinner.

 

“No ma'am,” Davel replied.  “You can feed her if you like.  If you don't mind, though, while you do, I'd like to ask you a few questions.”  When she replied that of course, he could ask her any questions he wanted, he sank to the floor while she and Lyss shared the bed.  Using the pretense of removing his boots to allow her constant flow of words to wash over him, Davel tried to organize his thoughts.

 

After he had gotten comfortable, Davel proceeded to fire a stream of questions at the wet nurse while she fed Lyss with a well-practiced hand.  He asked her where she was from, how many children she had borne, her methods of teaching and raising them, how long she had served as a wet nurse, how many different families she had worked for, and dozens more questions besides.  By the time he was satisfied, Lyss was long done with her meal, and Davel's voice was growing hoarse.

 

“Well, Marria, you seem able enough.”  Marria smiled indulgently at the young mans judgment of her abilities.  “I like you, and I believe I can trust you.  And so far as I can tell, Lyss shares my opinion.”  Lyss smiled, bright eyed and cheerfully babbling her affection for the woman as well.  “I appreciate you traveling to see us with such late notice, as well.  As you said though, we should seek our beds at a decent hour, as I'm sure you would like to as well.” 

 

“Thank you, young Davel,”  Marria replied.  “These old bones do grow more weary as the years pass.  I'm still spry enough to keep up with the little ones, though!”  Marria flashed a quick grin at Lyss, and opened her mouth to continue.  Davel didn't give her the chance.  He had a feeling that, left to her own devices, Marria the wet nurse would gladly talk his ear off for the rest of the night.

 

“I'm sure you can, ma'am, but we really should get some sleep now.  Thank you again, and good night to you.”  While he was making his goodbye's, he was gently urging her toward the door, and when she bade him goodnight as well, he put on his best imitation of a tired smile and closed the door firmly.  Latching it tight he returned to the bed.  “Well, little Lyss-priss?  Are you tired”

 

“Nope.”  Lyss spoiled her statement by yawning fiercely, her mouth opening impressively wide.

 

“Good.  Because I have something I'd like to talk to you about.  Is that all right?”  Davel was growing more nervous now.  Tomorrow Thera and Jasine would return, and for all he knew, they would collect Lyss and he would begin his training.  If he was to attempt any explanation to his sister, it must be now.  Lyss nodded her head sleepily, saying that yes, she would talk to Davel if he liked.

 

With a deep breath, Davel begun.  He explained to his sister the concept of mothers, of families beyond older brothers.  He told her about people who had real homes, with their own rooms they lived in every day.  He did his best to help her understand the idea of debts, and responsibilities.  All the while he knew that many of these thoughts were well beyond the abilities of a two year old to grasp, but he forced himself to continue.  After all, it was not just for her that he clarified.  He needed to explain things to himself as well.

 

After an unknown time spent talking, with the only light now the pale half-moon shining  through the window, Davel noticed that Lyss had at some point fallen asleep.  Rising to his feet, he gently moved her to a more comfortable position and tucked the blankets around her wonderful little form.

 

When he was finished, Davel walked over to the window and stood still.  A haze lay over the city of Tar Valon to match the fog that enveloped his thoughts, and the moonlight cast uneasy reflections off the shining walls of the White Tower, still visible even at this late hour.  He ended the day as he had begun it;  standing framed in the window, hand on his dagger, looking toward the White Tower and the future, and thinking hard on what must be done.  There was one difference between how he had stood this morning and how he stood now however.  As he stood there in the night, framed by moonlight, a steady stream of tears ran unknowing down his face.

Thera stared at Jasine blankly and had to blink tears from her eyes. “How can you be so unfeeling? I know that losing Ella was hard for you, but we have been given a new chance. Here is a child who is alive and who needs our love!” Turning her back on him she shook her head and tried to dry her tears. She should have let it be enough that he had agreed to go with her and not pressed the issue. Still, there was a time when her simple request would have brought a change in attitude, but it seemed their relationship had changed more than she knew.

 

“I agreed that we would meet him soon. Are you ready to go?” Gathering her own cloak she waited by the door until Jasine had gathered his things. As they walked out the door he gave her a reassuring smile, so perhaps he would come around in time.

 

The walk to the Inn was a quiet one until the silence was broken by Jasine grabbing her hand and pulling her to the side of the street. Confused Thera followed and gave her love a concerned look. “I had not found a way to tell you my love, but I am being sent away for a few months. That is why I hesitate at meeting this child. I will only grow attached and be forced to miss her and you. It may be more than I can bear.” Her heart battled with her head, but still Thera smiled. She should have known Jasine would have a reason to be so cold. Perhaps their relationship was not falling apart as she so feared. “I know it may be hard, but surely you will not be attached in only a day?” She had heard about eh contingent of Tower Guards leaving the Tower, but it had never accrued to her that Jasine would be one of them.

 

Leading him the rest of the way down the street she tried not to think of what tomorrow would bring and of how Davel would feel about leaving Lyss in just her and Marria’s care? Uttering a prayer that the woman had made a good impression she bypassed the Innkeeper and headed straight for Davel’s room.

 

Knocking three times, quietly, in case Lyss was napping she stepped back to wait.

 

Davel opened the door a crack and Thera got the impression that his dagger was clutched in his fist, and by his rumpled hair and clothes he’d hardly slept at all. Smiling at him she led the way into the room her brown eyes searching almost hungrily for Lyss. The child was sitting on the bed finishing what was left of her breakfast. Grinning Thera tossed down her cloak and went to scoop up the little princess, playfully trying to steal the bite of apple the child clutched.

Jasine shifted and stared past the young man at Thera with the child, he’d never imagined she’d look so natural with a girl of two on her hip. Every day she found ways to amazing him.

 

Feeling the intense stare of the young man Jasine turned and stuck out his hand, putting on one of his friendly smiles. “I have heard a great deal about you Davel. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Not at all miffed by the fact that it took several moments for the man to grasp his hand in return, Jasine led the boy to the bed that the girls had vacated and took a seat. He was not shocked to see that the boy was on a few years younger than himself, but he could see that it didn’t go both ways. Surely Thera had mentioned that he was younger, perhaps she had failed to mention how young.

 

Taking the sudden barrage of questions that flooded from Davel in stride Jasine answered him as best he could, though he could see Thera shooting him looks from over Lyss’s head. Had she expected him to lie?

 

When there was a pause in the onslaught Jasine walked over to meet the little girl that Thera wanted to ‘play’ house with. Bending down to their level he introduced himself and pulled a small trinket from his belt pouch. It was a tiny carved bunny that he had intended for his daughter, but seeing Lyss’s eye light up he knew he’d made the right decision.

 

Thera beamed down at Jasine and Lyss, thrilled that he’d thought to bring a gift. Slipping away she sat down next to Davel and took his hand. “I am not sure if Jasine told you.” She said quietly “but he has to leave tomorrow and we be gone for some time. I hope that does not affect your decision to allow me to watch Lyss. I assure you Marria and I can handle her care?”

 

“So what do you say Davel? Do you still wish to be a White Tower trainee?” Thera’s heart was hopeful, but a small part had still be guarded in case he changed his mind.

 

Davel had slept little.  He sat on the floor, allowing Lyss the bed, his black hair a shaggy mess and his eyes unfocused.  Soon now, it would happen.  A man he did not know and a woman he had just met would knock on his door, and then Lyss would be gone, no longer his alone.  Clenching is jaw in helpless frustration, Davel looked at Lyss for what he knew to be one of the last times as a guardian to the child. 

 

She was picking over the remains of her morning meal.  Lumps of porridge sweetened with honey mingled with spears of apple as she pushed the food around her plate uninterestedly.  She sensed Davel's mood, and had been quiet most of the morning.  Unable to concentrate on anything for long, Davel's gaze wandered once more.

 

Small, painted wooden balls were discarded at the foot of the bed, some of Lyss's only toys.  She had occupied herself with them earlier, while she waited on her breakfast, then forgot them when it had arrived.  Reaching out a hand to one that had rolled within his reach, Davel picked up the blue ball.  He couldn't remember what toys, if any, he had played with as a child.  He imagined he would have liked these though.  And blue had always been his favorite color.  It reminded him of the sea...

 

With no discernible reason, Davel flung the the brightly colored ball out the open window, heedless of what target it might find in the street.  Where was his mind this morning?  Even his thoughts rambled.  All he knew was as the appointed hour crept closer, his feelings of helplessness grew, and with them, an anger that he seldom felt when he was with Lyss.  He didn't know how to handle it, and that only served to frustrate him further.

 

Then it happened, just as he had dreamed it would the night before.  A soft knock came at the door, and when he peered out, dagger ready to strike in case it should be an enemy, Thera stood there, a beatific smile blooming on her face.  He had no choice but to let her in.

 

He saw her eyes focus on Lyss like an archer on a target, and he knew the woman was in love.  The cherubic smiles and giggles Lyss gave when Thera took her into her arms told Davel Lyss felt no small affection for the woman as well.  Yesterday, that had been a reassuring thought; today it brought cold comfort.

 

Turning to face the man who had followed Lyss in, presumably Jasine, he saw a hand proffered in greeting.  Examining it for a moment as if it were some strange creature, Davel grasped it and gave it a cursory shake just as the smile on Jasine's face was starting to look forced.  Light, he's no man.  He's closer to my age than Thera's.  The thought did not occur to Davel that he considered himself, at only seventeen years of age, to be more than capable of raising a child.  After offering a greeting that Davel barely heard, Jasine went to the bed that Lyss had sat in only moment before, and Davel followed.  When he sat, he could still feel the warmth of Lyss's body lingering in the linens.

 

We shall see just what sort of man this boy is.  We will find out if he is worthy of Lyss.  Even in Davel's head the thought sounded petty and jealous, but he didn't care.  He was full of unreleased anger, and Jasine seemed a likely target at which he could aim his growing rage.

 

Without pause and without mercy he barraged Jasine with questions, and demanded details, and still more answers to questions regarding the details.  The conversation with Marria the night before seemed like casual conversation compared to the unrelenting storm Jasine was under now.  Where was he from?  What kind of family did he have?  Did he have any other children?  Had he any experience with children at all?  What were his thoughts on the proper raising of a child?  Had he been found guilty of any crimes?  Those and what seemed to be hundreds more poured from Davel's mouth, all in a harsh tone that spoke of little liking for this strange man and less patience.

 

As much as Davel might have wished otherwise, Jasine's answers were prompt, direct, and seemingly, honest and without flaw.  As far as Davel could tell, Jasine was genuinely a good person, with a good heart.  Leaning back against the wall, Davel began to brood, a dark look crossing his face.

 

As soon as Davel stopped speaking, Jasine rose and walked to where Lyss and Thera were playing.  With eyes like a hawk, Davel watched as Jasine offered the girl a bright smile and a carved rabbit he produced from his belt pouch.  Her expression was joyous as she took it from him, and she immediately started a new game with Thera, in which the wooden bunny seemed to play a central role.

 

Davel's eyes flicked quickly to the colored balls on the floor, and he resisted the sudden, irrational urge to scoop them up and send them hurling after the blue one in the street.  What matter if she looked to like this new toy better?  He knew in his heart she would always love him most.  At least, that is all he allowed himself to believe.

 

He heard Thera speaking quietly in his ear, but remained silent.  Jasine had not told him he was leaving the Tower for a time, but it was of no matter.  If anything, it was some slight reassurance.  And of course he would follow through with his training.  Did she think he had come this far, made the sacrifices he had, and would continue to make, just to turn back now?  He was in no mood to answer her questions, and he saw no irony in the fact that he had expected each of his questions answered immediately. 

 

When he rose from the bed, he could feel two sets of eyes on him.  Lyss remained intent on the little rabbit, and when he picked her up she kept it clutched in her pink fist, and Davel had to fight down the desire to snatch it away from her.  Let her keep the bloody thing, if she likes it so much.

 

He kept his eyes on Lyss, but the smile that usually accompanied the sight of her was conspicuously absent from his face.  “I have two more questions for you Jasine.  And the answers that you give will make my decision for me.”  Gray eyes met brown, neither blinking.  “First, do you love Thera, truly?  I will not have you be any sort of father to Lyss if there is a chance you will, at any point, walk out of her life.  And second, have you room in your life and heart for a child?”  If Jasine answered wrong, he could not deny Thera care of Lyss, but he could bloody well make sure this man-boy had nothing to do with her.

Thera looked at Davel with a protest already forming on her lips. He had no right to question their love, but glancing at Jasine she saw that he was more than prepared to answer. Her lips bloomed in a smile as she heard him repeat the same words he’d said to her on the day they’d met, with the subtraction of one word. "My name is Jasine Al'Thorin from Four Kings in Andor, and I'm in love with, Thera." That first day, in their first hour, he’d uttered that he thought he was in love with her, now nearly 4 years later their love had changed and grown into something beautiful. Jasine was still a child in many eyes, but he’d proved himself a man time and time again. Whether it was defending their relationship in the yards or being there for her when they lost their child. No matter what the world said he was the Light of her Heart.

 

As if to show that he spoke the truth he repeated to Davel again, nearly the same words he’d said to her a few hours before. He said that his heart was scarred, and that he was afraid, but that he would try to do what was best for Lyss. Be that tending her like a father or staying away.

 

Thera closed her eyes and sent up a small prayer that her husband’s heartfelt answers would be enough. She did not know what tomorrow would bring in their lives, or what the next year would lay at their feet. Right now all she could care about was being able to give Lyss a home.

 

“You have heard his answers Davel, and you know that you have little choice. I will not force this decision from you, as it is yours to make, but you must choose soon. You have promises to keep and Lyss needs a stable environment and a steady home. What is your choice?”

 

bump