Edana brushed a stray lock of hair out of the way and leaned over the steel she’d just laid on the workbench. It had taken months for her to get good enough at handling the steel for something usable to come out of it. She felt no small amount of pride in the foot-long blade now laying in front of her. She was nearly humming as she grabbed the finest grit she could and started working on the metal, smoothing the surface and polishing it until it shone. It still needed a good edge and a hilt, but it was something!

 

“You’re really happy,” came a voice over her shoulder. Bryiam, the Smith who owned this shop’s apprentice, was returning from the shop. He’d left long enough to tuck a new sword he’d finished into the case in the storefront and Ed had barely noticed he was gone. He was one of the most attractive men she’d ever met, but it wasn’t the approachable kind of attractive. She’d caught him looking at many women in the last few months, most of which he ended up with. At least, that’s what he said the next time she’d entered the shop. She had to admit that there were a steady stream of well-armed ladies in this city if the collection of women coming in the door was any indication.

 

The only man in her thoughts was Sandre, though, and how happy he’d be when she showed him a finished blade.  “You did a good job.” He looked over her shoulder, a bit too close. She was too excited to point it out, though. A finished blade!  She felt like dancing with the joy!

 

“Sandre will be so pleased! I can just imagine the look on his face when he sees…” she was cut off there. She’d turned her head to look up at him and he chose that moment to swoop down for a kiss. His hands were in her hair, tilting her head and not letting go. Her back was to the smith window, so she had nothing but a good view of the back wall as he hauled her out of her chair and his hands started wandering.

 

She broke free as the vice-grip he’d had on her head was released. Apparently, he took it for granted that she wouldn’t put up a fight once he kissed her. She shoved him backwards, hard enough to make him stumble back a few paces. His expression changed from lust-filled to confused as he looked across the suddenly empty space at her. “What are you thinking?” She howled.

 

“You can’t love him! You spend your nights with me!” Bryiam yelled back at her. Did he really think the only reason she was here was to get close to him?

 

“I spend my nights here learning to do this so Sandre and I have more to talk about. I am here because I want to learn how to return the favor when he gifts me with beautiful blades that he’s either wrought himself or his family made. I spend my nights bent over the anvil, pounding away on steel so that I have something I can be proud of.” She started pacing, hearing the blood rushing in her ears. It apparently wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, though, so he advanced on her again. This time, though, she fought back. Her hands were a blur as they delivered punishing blows to his face and shoulders, an occasional blow forcing his body to curl around her fist. She pounded until she felt better, though he was still breathing when she left. It was a blessing, though she doubted he’d see it that was for a little while.

 

She sighed as she finally left the shop. The commotion had drawn the Smith, himself, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t add a few more blows to the shower she’d rained on Bryiam. Halfway back to the Tower, she realized that she’d left the blade at the Smith’s. She sighed, feeling the tears welling in her eyes. She’d lost the ring Sandre had made her about a month ago. She’d been tying it on a leather strap around her neck while she worked with the smith’s apprentice and it just hadn’t been there when she’d gone to the bathhouse that night. She’d searched everywhere, not daring to tell Sandre that she’d lost it. He made it with his own hands. He’d kill her!

 

Then, tonight, she’d lost the blade she’d been making for him. She sighed, seeing the walls looming before her and slowing her step. She’d felt horrible coming home the last month, praying that Sandre was asleep so he wouldn’t ask about the ring. She didn’t last very long once she was home, either. She sank to sleep almost as soon as she laid down and was back up again with the dawn for training and duty. Only knowing how proud of her Sandre would be made the time away from him worth it.

 

She waved at the guards on duty and made her way to the room they shared. She was earlier than normal tonight, having left after beating Byriam so badly. She’d have to apologize, she was sure, but for now… She pushed open the door of the room she shared with Sandre, a little surprised to see a candle burning on a bedside table. He was sitting in a chair nearby, his gaze on her like a blanket as she entered the room. She moved around, shedding layers of clothes until she was down to a simple shirt and breeches. She caught his gaze in the mirror over the little table she used for a vanity. “Is there something wrong, Sandre? You’re awake late tonight…”

 

A brief skirmish on a dock with some drunken and well armed sailors who didnt recognize the Tower Guard uniform as he came with servants to pick up supplies on the dock for the tower had left some dings in his armor. No one was hurt though the sailors had a head that hurt for more reasons than a hangover when it was done. Besides he needed to let a few things go. Edana had been working late and training hard for a couple months now and she always went straight to bed after. A few Guards had been giving him a hard time saying she was off with other men but he largely ignored them unless they crossed the line.

 

When Sandre brought the armor to the smith where one of the few masters in Tar Valon had his shop he found it odd that he smelled Edana there. Then again he smelled Edana everywhere. Her scent was like honey and even though she had not touched him in the last couple of months he was content to hold her and smell that scent as he slept. His nightmares had even stopped.

 

The Smiths apprentice, Bryiam, was at the anvil when Sandre came to drop it off. They filled out the work order and Sandre paid the man and as Bryiam fished though a pocket for change he pulled out a ring and Sandre's eyes locked on it. It was Edana's ring that Sandre had made for her. The gold band and small single ruby were unmistakable. "That ring." Sandre said Bryiam looked up at him with a brief smile and said "Ah yes this one...was sold to me cheap. Edana seemed pretty anxious to be rid of it so she could move on." The words stung and Sandre swallowed hard. He assumed the flame and void to avoid harming Bryiam though in his mind he had already came up with a dozen ways to kill this man.

 

"She was done with him months ago. The guy is too stupid to figure out that shes been sleeping around, sometimes multiple partners at a time. Her selling this to me was because I have turned her away from all that and we have started our own relationship." Bryiam said.

 

The void shook and the flame roared. "Sounds like a real winner..." Sandre said to to throw off suspicion that he was this stupid guy. "How much do you want for it." Bryiam looked at the ring as though he knew something of the quality and value of it. When the negotiating was done Sandre had paid more than it was worth... and he didnt really care. He kept it. Edana would have to tell him eventually.

 

*** One month later ***

 

Sandre had been given specific instructions when to pick up his armor. He was so anxious to get his armor back he wasnt going to argue with the smiths inconvenient late night pick up. The words of the apprentice stung in his ears as he headed towards the Smithy... the guy knew Edana's name but she used the same smith too so that could be coincidental. (She had probably just had slipped it off to try on some gauntlets or something and forgot it.) He thought but it didnt seem like Edana to forget something so important. (Maybe it slipped off her finger and the guy was just trying to make some gold.) that didnt seem likely either, she supposedly prized that ring. There was no explanation. Edana took the ring off for some reason. His mind had entered into a place where he had to consider darker possibilities... like that Bryiam wasnt being dishonest with him.

 

To make matters worse rumors were rampant on the yards about Edana's being unfaithful. Sandre had no idea where they came from and ignored them but even Dante had told him to be careful and that now was a time to protect himself. Sandre regretted snapping at him and telling him to take his own advice. He would apologize tomorrow. When Sandre got within eye shot of the smithy he felt as though his world were coming apart. He wanted to run back to the yards and find out where she was training and carry her into the room. However when he looked up in the window of the Smithy he realized he wouldnt find her on the yards. She was slightly bent over an anvil in the smithy and Bryiam was pressed against her from behind, cradling her head as he kissed her. He couldnt see if they were doing anything more but the motions of Bryiam's body said that they werent wearing anything from the waist down and Bryiam's hand then moved up her chest close to her top button on her jacket when Sandre turned and walked away.

 

He waited in the room with a single candle going. She was there quickly. Sandre had lost his lunch he was so upset when he got back and he was sitting to settle his stomach. Not even the thought of dueling came to mind to make this go away. Something in him had died and no amount of pain would dull what was inside even slightly.

 

“Is there something wrong, Sandre? You’re awake late tonight…”

 

"Where have you been lately Edana?" He said in a voice that was barely controlled from anguish, anger, and pain.

  "Where have you been lately Edana?" Sandre's voice sounded violent. At least, it did to her. She'd heard him use a tone close to that when taunting people into dueling. Sure, she'd been following him at the time, but the tone meant dangerous things. He hadn't used it to talk to her very much. The last time...

 

She turned back to the vanity, away from him. Her head hurt and she was tired on so many levels she could barely keep them all straight. Physical exhaustion, mental exhaustion, emotional exhaustion... it was a nasty combination that did bad things for her temper. She tried to control that as much as possible. She loved this man, after all. "I've been out, Sandre," she answered, her voice giving away how tired she was.

 

She looked down at her hands and nearly hissed at the broken skin on her knuckles. Apparently, she'd been too preoccupied with Bryiam's idiocy to notice she was damaging her hands. She closed her eyes a moment. Sandre would never accept "training" as the reason why her hands were so torn up. She had to keep him from seeing them as long as possible. She found a rag on the vanity and picked it up, moving to the bowl of water on the wash stand. She dunked the rag in, making a big show of washing her hands. She turned back towards him, the rag neatly covering her battered knuckles.

 

His expression wasn't happy. The flickering candle light only made his expression darker. She sighed audibly, moving back to her chair to keep some distance between them. Too close and he'd realize she was hiding her hands from him. "I had some errands to run after training and then I stopped by to help Joe unload some crates for the tavern. He enjoys the company, we get the work done faster and he slips me some coin for my trouble."

 

It wasn't a complete lie. She'd done all of that... earlier this evening. Her training had finished early and her errands had been fewer than normal, allowing her to get the tavern faster and still make it to the smith before he closed for the evening. Besides, Sandre knew she refused to take money from him and that a Guard didn't make much in the way of a salary. Every coin helped, so it wasn't uncommon for her to come home with an extra sack of coins. She reached into her jacket as she pulled it off her shoulders and produced the little bag of coins Joe had given her this evening. She tossed it on the vanity, letting the coins chink before she hung her jacket up.

 

"Is this inquisition over or should I find a more comfortable position to sit in?" She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, waiting on his response.

 

~Edana

starting to get really tired of men pushing her around...

Sandre sighed. She had not even mentioned the Smithy. He had worked out so many ideas on what it could be she was there for and he could reach no conclusion that was good. In his hand he held her ring. His balled it into a fist afraid he would lose it and break down in front of her. The thought that she didnt deserve to see that snapped him out of it. She washed her hands and Sandre clearly saw the soot from the Blacksmith shop turn the water black. She made a big show of it so he would see. (Shes not even trying to hide her dishonesty.) he thought. His heart began to break on the spot. She was trying to show him that she was telling him a big lie.

 

Sandre winced at the mention of the Tavern. That was one of the places the rumors said she met her lovers and had been seen afterward with some of them giving her coin. He had nearly laughed when he heard that one. Now it struck him like a blow to the face. Plus Joe had two stable boys and Tavern Maids in a pinch. The one running his kitchen he thought could lift two barrels of ale herself. Then there was Black Bart... to her credit she did smell like ale, but in Sandre's mind that was because she was probably drinking it. It was Dante who said he heard that from another guard and told Sandre to talk to her about it tonight. He really owed his brother an apology. Sandre hated apologizing.

 

"There have been rumors on the yards... other guards whispering about how you are unfaithful... you havent touched me in a months... I didnt believe them anyways... " he began to twiddle his thumbs then stopped. It was another twitch he had when she hurt him. Instead he looked up. Her casual looks and mood told him that it wouldnt matter if he did show her he was hurt. (Please Dear Heart. Please just tell me you were attacked at the Smithy... tell me something to clear that up and I will believe you.) he thought. She sat there with that look on her face like she didnt care anymore.

 

"Then I met someone who didnt know that I was yours... he told me of how you and him were lovers... how he pulled you away from a life of cheating on me and you were getting ready to start a life with him... how... you were done with me... I didnt believe him either... until he sold me this."

 

Sandre held out the ring... so small in his hand... he took his hand back as she reached for it. "And thats blacksmith soot on your cuffs..." He wasnt sure what seemed to make her more mad. The fact that he took the ring from her or that he mentioned the soot. The rage was obvious though. Sandre had seen people who knew they were caught red handed become irate before. He didnt think this to be any different. If she wanted to be like the scum they had to deal with, he would treat her like the scum they had to deal with. "I suppose you were there for me werent you?" Even she would know that was an excuse they heard every day. By trainees or someone trying to sneak a blade or something else they shouldnt into the tower grounds saying they were holding it for a friend or they forgot it was there. Or when they found trainees in places they shouldnt be. It was lame excuses. His favorite though, was that they were retrieving the booze or knife or whatever that they had "Found" for the guard that caught them. The remark hit home. He prepared for her to strike him. He wouldnt let her but he wouldnt hurt her either. She wasnt going to have a chance to leave him tonight either. He was leaving her if she did not give him the truth of what was happening in the Smithy, if she didnt explain what he saw.

Edana opened her mouth, her expression incredulous. He had really believed these lies? He said he didn’t, but he remembered every single one. Then he flashed her ring at her. Her jaw fell and she reached for it, blinking unbelievingly as he snatched it back out of her reach. What had he said?  Someone had claimed she’d sold it? She curled her hands into fists, her nails biting into her palm. She was going to kill Bryiam with her own two hands!  Her jaw clenched and she had to look away before she exploded.

 

  "I suppose you were there for me weren’t you?" His voice held more scorn than anything she’d ever heard from his lips before.  Yes, she knew what he meant. She knew how many trainees and younglings she’d cornered for doing stupid things and how many of them had tried to bribe her to keep from getting in trouble. That he was lumping her in with those brainless twits cut her deep enough that she started sinking her emotions into the Stream in her head. She closed her eyes, visualizing the movement of the river and imagining it taking the pain away. She’d have time for pain, later. He had no intention of hearing anything she said. It was too late for that.

 

“The smithy was a secret,” she said, her voice flat and toneless. She shook her head inwardly, knowing her words were damning. A little voice in her head cried out that he’d understand if she just explained it to him. It played out a pretty little scenario, trying to lure her into doing what she’d always done with Sandre. She’d explain, they’d argue some more, she’d show him her hands, telling him about how bloody the apprentice would be in the morning, they’d discuss what the hilt of the blade she’d finished should look like, they’d climb into that bed and go back to the way things had always been. That wasn’t going to happen, though. She’d begged him last time, lowered herself to a point she’d never been in her life. Where had it gotten her? Right back here. She wasn’t spending the rest of her life on her knees, begging for forgiveness of things that weren’t her fault.

 

He was accusing her of being unfaithful to him when being so focused on him was what allowed the debacle tonight to happen. He was too caught up in the rumors and believing Bryiam, who had lied to her about the ring. Her exhaustion was pulling at her, but she fed that into the River, too.

 

“If you’re waiting on me to justify anything, I am not going to bother. You’ve already made your decision, already come to the conclusion you’re accepting. I will be damned to the Dark One’s pit before I lowering myself to beg for your forgiveness again. If it helps you sleep at night thinking I spent one moment in the arms of another man and that gives you ample reason to cast me aside, so be it. I will not beg you to stay with me or to use the mind you’ve cultivated to find the truth.” She turned back to the vanity, dropping the rag on the table and ignoring the black soot that covered it. She turned her hands over a time or two, checking to make sure none of the cuts would need stitching. Once she’d done that, she lifted her head, looking at him in the mirror. “I told you this would never work. Nobles never believe their hearts over the words from another’s mouth. Never.”

 

~Edana

 

“I told you this would never work. Nobles never believe their hearts over the words from another’s mouth. Never.”

 

Sandre frowned. "I never asked you to beg. If my mind was made up there wouldnt have been a discussion about this. You havent even bothered to try and explain everything, you leave out facts when you do. What in the pit am I supposed to think. My intention tonight was to try and figure out why there are rumors in the first place and get answers for the things I have seen and heard and now you have turned it into testing my trust in your spoken word." He shook his head and looked towards his weapons. He didnt want to fight... he felt wounded enough. He wanted to be gone.

 

"I dont understand you Edana. I dont know why you would sit here and allow the very same thing that drove you to leave Caemlyn to..." He couldnt finish. "You fought your brothers for rumors... can you expect me to simply trust you when I hear them?!" He shook his fists as he yelled. "You drew steel on your family for rumors. I just wanted reassurance. Explanation. Closure!"

 

Unable to stand being in her presence he began to pack saddle bags at a rapid pace and throw on weapons. She probably thought he was going to a hotel but she would learn when he didnt come back. He was yelling and breaking up in his words now but she got the message he thought. She just didnt seem to care. He packed the lock of hair she had put in his bags when he left to the Borderlands before and it was that lock of hair that gave him his destination.

 

As he walked to the door and opened it he remembered her last words. "Nobles have good reason to not listen to their heart since peasants cant keep their pants on... I thought you were different. Maybe you just dont know what do to with a heart. I love you Edana.. but right now I dont think you feel the same... and I cant be with someone whos love for me wavers and vanishes at a whim."

 

He tossed the ring somewhere in the room not wanting to look at the lie of a relationship it represented. He walked out the door and straight to the Captain's room. She wouldnt follow him there to keep an argument going. An hour later he had the papers needed to leave for an extended diplomatic mission and the assurance that no one would know where he was. He also had a second set of papers... optional mission. For the only friend he had at the moment.

 

Edana closed her eyes as he yelled, forcing his words into the flow of the water in her mind. She absorbed them, welcomed them as the little part of her that had decided that fateful night in Camelyn that she wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love fed off his anger. His parting shots were the most painful and the slamming of the door behind her nailed the finality in place. She turned as she heard the delicate clink of metal fall against the wall on the other side of the room. She narrowed her eyes, but saw the faint glow of the ring shining on the floor. She sighed and moved to pick it up, curling her hand around it as if she could keep his warmth in the metal as long as possible.

 

Watching the candle light dance on the gold in her hand crushed the last bit of resistance she had on her emotions. Water crested it banks and flowed over and Edana knew she’d lost her control over her emotions. Tears streaked down her cheeks and she sank onto the bed she’d shared with Sandre. Why were they always arguing like this? Why couldn’t they be like any other couple who loved each other?

 

“I was there for you,” she whispered, her eyes focused on the ring as she slipped it onto her finger. “I wanted you to be proud of me. I wanted you to know I was interested in something you were interested in, that I could hold my own with your family. I wanted you to know how much I loved you, that I could work at being a part of your life.”

 

Her tears flowed faster and breathing became harder. He’d believed the rumors. He just didn’t understand that the reason she’d drawn her blade against her brothers was that they believed the rumors, too. She’d grown more patient since coming here, she had more control over the rage that had taken over her thoughts that night. He was as guilty as they were, believing the worst of her. If anyone in the world knew her better, it should’ve been them. Not just her brothers, but Sandre, too. She’d slept with her head on his shoulder every night for the last year. How could he not know her better than that?

 

Her love for him hadn’t waivered the slightest since they day she’d found him bathing in the River. She’d never been good enough for him, though. She’d known that for awhile and had turned a blind eye to it. His calling her a peasant now reinforced it. That’s all she’d ever been to him, someone to see to his needs. Their arguments circled around something he’d expected of her and she hadn’t come through on and every time she found herself apologizing for it. She shook her head, that realization stiffening her resolve. Not anymore. She wasn’t fighting for him for one more minute!

 

She moved, then, opening a small trunk she’d packed her things into when she’d moved into the Guard’s barracks last year. Meticulously, she refilled the trunk, removing any hint that she’d spent one minute here from the room. She lifted it, her anger giving her the strength to brace it on her shoulder as she moved down the hall to another open room. She set the trunk down and started unloading it, not stopping until the trunk was empty again. She looked around the room, tears starting to flow again at how very barren it looked without Sandre’s things filling in the gaps. She’d stop by and notify the powers that be that she’d moved rooms in the morning.

 

She lit a candle and stared at the open trunk. After a moment, she sighed and laid the sword Sandre had given her inside. One by one, piece by piece, parts of their history together were loaded into the trunk until nothing remained to remind her of him. Then she caught sight of her finger as she reached for the lid of the trunk. With a sigh she pulled the ring off, but couldn’t bring herself to pack it away. She closed the trunk lid and locked it, then moved to her pack and pulled a length of leather free. She laced the leather through the ring and tied the ends together, then slipped the make-shift necklace over her head.

 

“You will be my reminder not to trust my heart, anymore,” she said, laying her hand over the ring where it lay against her chest.  “That way leads only to pain and I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime or two.” She blew out the candle and stretched out in her new bed, but sleep didn’t come. If it was closure he wanted, she thought, watching the patterns of the shadows on the wall. It’s closure he’s got.

 

~Edana

Alone again