Fanfic:Road to a Bond/Part 1
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Chapter 1: A Night at the Inn
The last time that Mouse had set foot inside the Band of Brothers Inn had been the night after she was raised to Ji'dar. That was the night she had met Garren and Jip, and the memory brought a smile to her face. Though she did not often see Garren, Jip had become a very good friend. They did share a certain mentality that bonded them in ways they didn't with most other people.
Looking back, that seemed like another life time ago. There had been so much that had happened to the young woman since that far more care free day. Strange to think of it as care free, but it had been compared to what she'd faced in the time since then.
Mouse was a Gaidar now, however. She had survived all of those things and had become a new person, a stronger person, and so this time she did not walk into the Inn with the hopes of being invisible. She walked in to enjoy an evening off following a long day of work in the Yards. Darrik was away, so she was on her own for speaking... but she'd gone many years without Darrik's help, so she was still confident she'd manage. He just made things simpler.
Tonight, she just intended to be Mouse. She was not in her training or Warder clothes but in quite a departure from the usual with a... wait for it... dress, and slippers. It was a serious change, but she kind of liked it. It made her feel like... a complete person: there was more to her than her works in the Training Yards, although she was still prepared for a fight no matter what she wore. Couldn't take the Yards out of her that much, after all.
She walked up to the bar and for the first time, the bar tender flashed a smile at her and a return smile flashed in her large, dark eyes. It almost felt like... she was someone else, yet not. It was very strange, and she had a moment of wondering what Lucan would think of her evening out. She banished the thought quickly, because she was not owned by anyone and was allowed to have an evening to herself.
Mouse held up a piece of paper with spiced cider written on it, pre-arranged to save her the time. The bar tender looked surprised, but shrugged, poured and passed her the glass. She paid him with a smile of thanks and then moved to find a table - near enough the dance floor to watch, but not right at the edge - so she could soak in the atmosphere, but at a distance to not be tripped over.
Jerid set down the book in his hand to reach for his glass of cider, only slightly aware of the brief glances his way every now and then as he took a sip. He was here for a quiet night out, nothing more or less.
Just like the it was eight nights ago. a thought ribbed. Jerid squashed it without hesitation, not wishing to dwell on that unnervingly eventful night. He had spent too much time already making arrangements and taking painful precautions as it was.
Besides, he would be burned before he was denied at least one night away from the Tower. Well, that and he had had some pushing as well. "For Light's blessed sake, Walker, you need to get outside and be around other people," Aden had said. The Yellow had been stressing this for years now. "New Master of Soldiers or no, I'll skin your hide if you allow those flaming Darkfriends to think they've gotten to you.
That memory brought a faint smile to the youthful looking Asha'man's lips. Aden had a way of...motivating people into doing things, a trait that suited the Yellow. So now, Jerid sat at his seat near the back of the inn's common room, ready to return to his book. Only he found himself slightly annoyed by the glances. So what if he had nearly been killed here several nights ago? It shouldn't matter, given most of the patrons were still here, the place still prospering.
At least the music was a fair sight better this night. The gleeman actually sounded like a court bard, the way he played his music. Of course, such a night had warranted a change from his usual Asha'man black; a simple but well woven garb consisting of a blue wool shirt, brown waist length coat and leather breeches had replaced the uniform he had grown accustomed to.
Picking up the book again, Jerid nearly went back to reading when he saw the door to the outside open, admitting a young woman into the hall. And in a rare moment, the Asha'man actually took note out of pure curiosity. She was vaguely familiar, but from where he could not place a finger. For a few moments he watched as the woman, dressed in a dark blue gown that suited her, moved toward the bar. He tilted his head, his gold-green eyes observing her before ultimately going back to the book.
Of course, that only lasted a few minutes before his mind howled for something other than a tome he had read a hundred times before. Light, but a conversation with a White would have been more inviting! You blasted wool head, you're here to relax! And be among other people! So do it even if' it's the death of you! The thought strangely sounded like Aden's voice, which was enough to jerk the Indigo from the book.
His eyes wandered toward the bar and the young woman in blue, only to find a burly man. Blinking, Jerid scanned the area before quickly locating the woman, who had chosen a table not far from the dance floor. Without thinking, he was on his feet, book tucked under one arm and cup of cider in the other.
Jerid navigated his way through the maze of tables until he found himself standing in front of the woman's table. While it was an abnormal action for him these days, he was smiling faintly as he murmured, "Good evening, my Lady. Would you mind if I joined you this evening, for the sake of company?"
More often than not, her heightened senses were of benefit. Occasionally, they had been a detriment, but her long years in the Yards had made those times almost non-existent, while the benefits grew. This was one time, however, that they proved a benefit all on their own, because there was a lively energy to the Inn, coupled with the music and the dancing, that just sort of flowed through the young woman.
She smiled idly while looking into her glass of cider for a few moments, contemplating if she should try to reach out at all or simply continue to enjoy the atmosphere. Both had merit, but she didn't have too much longer to think on it before someone else made the decision for her.
"Good evening, my Lady. Would you mind if I joined you this evening, for the sake of company?"
Mouse turned her eyes, seemingly impossibly large and of a black ink-like color, up to find the source of the voice: a man dressed in shades of blue and brown, standing before her table with a book under one arm and a cup in the other's hand. She noted that it looked the same as what she was drinking, a small random fact that was set aside in a quieter part of her mind. He looked... familiar in some way, but it did not come directly to mind as to what the recognition might be.
Instead of spending too much time trying to figure it out, she instead moved her thoughts to his statement - all this passed in as much time as it took to blink - and the use of 'my Lady'... something she was never called. She smiled politely, but there was an enigmatic edge to it for that as she waved at the other chair in invitation.
Once he had taken the seat, she looked down and reached into the satchel at her waist, shuffling what would sound like slips of paper - because that's what they were - to him. In the back of her mind, she knew that it was probably a very odd thing to see, but it was a necessity, for moments later she pulled out one of the notes she kept pre-written these days.
Mouse handed the small slip of paper across to him. It read: Greetings - my name is Mouse. It was a very simple statement and straight to the point, but she never knew who could understand her signs, so this was quicker - but when writing everything out, she tended to be as succinct as she could be.
Jerid's smile deepened as the woman waved in ascent. His gold-green eyes glittered in the tavern's light as he met her large black ones. Without a second thought, he took the chair across from this curious woman, setting the book on the table.
"Thank you," he murmured, raising his cup to emphasis the statement. He had to admire the woman on her choice of drink, cider much like his own. For a simple drink it had its merits, and was much preferential to wine or brandy.
Of course the vague impression still swam around in the back of his mind, but he paid no heed. Jerid was here for a simple night out, and for company, not to ponder over a conundrum. Besides, the music had pretty much already worked its way into the Asha'man, telling him to relax.
Of course, the woman's movement caused him to tilt his head in further curiosity. Normally, the action would have caused him to tense, cause alarm bells to sound given what had happened here recently, but not this time. There was no knife, no crossbow, only a slip of paper.
Reaching out with a slender, calloused hand he took the note and read it. His smile stayed, and his eyes danced with curiosity. Hello-my name is Mouse. Where had he heard that name before? Shrugging away the nibble on his memory, the Asha'man handed it back and said politely, "A pleasure to meet you, Mouse. My name's Jerid."
He raised his glass in a toast then, still curious. It was rare, but not unknown, that some spoke with paper when they had no voice. It was his only assumption, but then he could have been wrong. Not that you would admit it, of course.
"Have you come from the Tower this night?" he asked after a moment.
Brushing a few errant strands of long, dark hair back behind one ear, Mouse watched the man sitting opposite her as he took her note and read it. His gaze seemed curious, but he quite surprised her by simply replying to it and not asking after it. Most people, she had found, wanted to know why she wrote instead of spoke. They did not always make the connection, perhaps just thinking her odd instead.
This one was different, it would seem.
When he handed it back and then introduced himself in turn, she gave another smile and inclined her head in a gracious manner that said it was a pleasure to meet him as well, and also - though this was less obvious - for his courtesy. Curiosity could, at times, make people a little... rude. She appreciated that this wasn't the case here, and so she lifted her glass in a return toast before taking a sip.
Mouse set it down again just as he asked his next question. Deftly fishing a piece of charcoal and another scrap of paper from the small satchel at her waist, she wrote out another note - the lettering was hasty, but legible. After she finished, she handed it across the table to him. It read:
Yes. It was a hard day's work and I came here to find an evening to be enjoyed, and soak in a little of the atmosphere of people at ease.
And you?
As at ease as she was, the hardness of a Gaidar's training did not show on her features, though it probably did on her hands if one was looking, but her expression was a gentle mixture of impassiveness and active interest. She tilted her head very slightly with curious patience as he read, awaiting his response.
If one did not know her, with her eyes as they were, she might appear like some small woodland creature that sat at the edge of the trees, waiting for something that you did not know what, but remaining all the same.
Taking a sip from his own cup, Jerid watched as Mouse withdrew another scrap of paper and a piece of charcoal from the satchel. While most might have seen such aspect as a hindrance, the Asha'man saw it merely as an admirable trait, and just another part of the woman's daily life.
Besides, it would have merely been inconsiderate to pepper her with questions. Jerid had never much cared for such prying, at least unless it was necessary. Growing up a thief, he had learned that patience was often better than hasty action, and answers would inevitably follow should another person want to divulge.
So he watched as Mouse's hands quickly scrawled across the parchment. As he accepted it, Jerid smiled faintly. Curiously, he noticed that her hands, though small, were still hardened and quite dexterous. That small fact faded to a corner of his mind, however, when he read the contents of the note.
Looking up, his smile turned into a wry grin. "For similar reasons. I needed to escape the Tower for even a few hours. And what better place than here, with great music and an atmosphere to match a Tuatha'an caravan?" It was true, as Jerid rarely felt relaxed except among Tinkers, and even then it was chased with casual alertness.
One look across at Mouse, and he could see that very thing about her now. Handing the scrap back, he added with some jest, "That and to at least watch the dancing. Very seldom does one's duties permit such a thing, no?"
When he mentioned dancing, Mouse didn't try too hard to resist a casual, perhaps slightly wistful, look out over the dance floor. There was a cheerful tune being played and several couples already out. The last time she had danced was the last time she'd been here, and had been mainly in the efforts to save Jip from the fond teasing of Garren.
Another lifetime, she thought to herself, turning her attention back to the man named Jerid, taking back the paper and turning it over. She began scribbling a new note:
Seldom indeed, but certainly to be taken advantage of when the chance presents itself. Dancing is great fun, even if just to watch.
Might I ask... do you know the language of signs? Hand signals? She passed the paper back to him with little hope that he did, because there were but few it seemed, though more of them in the Tower than anywhere else she had ever been... so there was a small hope that he might, though she imagined he would already have said something once the note-writing began if this was the case.
Jerid couldn't help but notice the glance towards the dance floor, an action he smiled inwardly at. The Asha'man himself couldn't resist the slight tapping of his right foot to the music, or the slight tapping on the table. It was a catchy tune, one well worth dancing to.
Of course, there had not been too many occasions to do so of late; the last time he could actually remember doing it had been as a Dedicated, dancing with Dendhra in the firelight of a Tinker caravan. That had been years ago, however, almost an Age it seemed. Since then, not so much, even if the mood had urged him to do so.
Taking another sip of his drink, he smiled faintly as Mouse's attention returned. His gold-green eyes danced as he took the third note politely. He scanned it quickly and then looked up at Mouse for a moment, his brow furrowed slightly before handing it back.
Setting down his cup, his hands flashed briefly, moving in pattern. A fair bit, enough to catch plotting trainees and confound Warders. He smiled in mock innocence, as if there was nothing wrong with his explanation. Jerid had since drawn the conclusion that the woman in blue was likely from the Yards, at the very least an instructor or trainer, if not a Gaidar.
"But in truth," he spoke, resting his hands on the table, "one learns a lot when one was married to a Gaidar once upon a time. It is beneficial, especially when silence is paramount and a working with a Warder. Or a potential dance partner."
It was a night for merriment and not for aggravation, so the quip about confounding Warders was not met with any sort of typically female reaction of a frown of disapproval, but instead with a silent laugh. No sound was made, of course, but you could tell from her breathing and the movements of her shoulders that she was, indeed, laughing.
The potential implications of 'a potential dance partner' was lost in her delight and pleasant surprise that he knew her language. Though some of the signs from the Yards differed from her own - this stemming from her parents teaching her and some of them evolving during her times alone as an adolescent - they were all similar enough to be understood.
Mouse took the papers and charcoal, slipping them easily back inside her waist satchel and idly dusting her fingers off on her skirt before lifting her hands. She began to sign. Now that is a great relief, she 'said', her hands conforming easily to the motions, though she kept herself from speeding up too greatly, as she sometimes did. Even Darrik had trouble following her at those times.
It is quite a trial to have to write everything out, so I find it a very great relief and pleasant surprise when I meet those that can speak this way. You don't have to sign back, as I can obviously hear quite well. I am simply not equipped with the powers of speech. For one terrible moment, a memory of... Lycos al'Seraphim and his One Power perversion of her lungs came back and was quickly pushed away.
The Tower has been very good for that, though. I have found that many, like you, are able to understand me in this way.
Idly, she did file away his comments, as it went to further illustrate his character in her mind as she came to know small pieces of it, but they were not to be spoken of or worried on. Nothing sounded as any threat, and she did not know him well enough to consider any questions that might chance too far into rudeness or prying.
A small amount of relief flooded Jerid's mind when he saw Mouse laugh. Granted no sound was present, but body language and the absence of any traces of malice told him it was laugher. Many Warders might have taken offense to his words, including a rather...enthusiastic Gaidin bonded to a Yellow. Jerid had no grudge with the Warders, however, and actually spent many hours in the Yards when his time permitted.
Having a conversation with one, on the other hand, was quite a pleasant recourse from sparring with one. Even if such talking was a bit unconventional, it was still quite nice. And Mouse strangely put him at ease, much in the way Llewellyn's company had.
And then he watched as the young woman's hands danced, forming the pattern of words, some slightly different from what he knew, but not completely beyond his understanding. At one moment, he thought he had caught a slight hesitation in her signing, when she had mentioned the lack of vocal capacity. It did rouse his curiosity, but then he could also have imagined it. His mind ruled on the latter, not wishing to spoil the evening's atmosphere.
"The Tower is good for such things," Jerid responded with some whimsy. "It also provides a home and a purpose, even to a thief seeking a new life. And a most positive environment that inspires the children of its initiates." It was true, as his children had grown up inspired, and the Tower had instilled a sense of morality and good judgment in both his son and daughter.
Even as he spoke, he had been aware of the end of one melody and the beginning of a new one, just as light hearted and casual as the last. He smiled lightly and added, "And it also teaches one how to dance." At that Jerid slowly but casually stood from his seat and held out a hand. "Would my Lady wish to take this dance," he asked politely, and with a formality instilled into him by growing up in Ebou Dar.
Where at first her thoughts had briefly danced into darker memories, when he began to speak of the goodness of the Tower in its many facets, her mind lightened. The Tower had been a Light-send for a terrified young woman, and even though many terrible things had happened to her, she could not possibly imagine her life having continued outside of it.
Also, the mention of children and what it could instill in them brought a faint smile, both rueful and glad. She thought of her parents and wondered if they would have been proud of her for what she had achieved. She knew, for she had been told by him and by her in brief but meaningful moments, that Caden Gaidin and Miahala Sedai were proud of her... and that was enough for Mouse.
When Jerid got to her feet, eyes that already seemed to wide to be real widened just a little further still in another show of surprise that she did not bother to hide behind the stone facade as taught by all her Warder training. A new light flickered in the darkness of her gaze and she smiled.
I have not danced much, she began, settling her gaze on his, So I do not know many steps... but I would love to. No more 'talking' was possible, for she set her hand politely in his and rose to her feet. A little bit of nervousness danced in her stomach, afraid all her many hours in the Yards would not save her from tripping over her own toes, but she banished it quickly.
It was a night to be enjoyed, and she was being granted an unexpected privilege in the chance to dance something other than a weapons lesson and she did not intend to waste it.
Jerid mouth split into a wide smile at Mouse's 'words' even as his hand clasped gently over hers. It surprised him sometimes how others could not have found time to dance, but such thoughts were always answered afterwards. Ebou Dari were known for their indulgence in celebration and such things had always granted occasion to dance.
As the young woman rose the Asha'man murmured, "If it helps, I have not danced in several years, so I may be a bit rusty in my own steps." It was the truth, a fact that could not be hindered by the First Oath. Of course, the only dances he had encountered in years had been with Death and foes, and Jerid found those did not count.
And of course there were other challenges to consider. Before, his only constant dance partners had been of a height with him, or taller. Dendhra had easily towered over him by more than a few inches, as had Lyn and Aynaiss had been his height. Mouse was the first person in literally decades that had been much shorter than he had been when dancing was involved.
Still it did not cause him to hesitate in leading Mouse to the dance floor, his feet literally gliding over the floor in anticipation. After all it was not every day that one could say they danced. Especially when one was an Asha'man, afforded much less time than a Soldier or Dedicated.
Upon reaching the floor, already half full with other pairs, the Indigo offered a polite smile to Mouse and gave a half-bow before drawing her close into a semi-casual form that the particular song lent itself to. It was a commoner's song, one he liked the most, and as his other hand took its place lightly, and respectfully, on her back, he started the lead, letting his feet do their work and gracefully began to move with his partner. After all, what was a dance, if not an equal effort on both parties part?
For Mouse's part, she was not disconcerted by the height difference in the least. She was, by now, exceptionally used to it. Jip was the only friend she had who was at all close to her height. Lucan stood more than three hands taller than she, and Darrik almost as much; even most of the female trainees were taller than she. It simply was what it was, and she'd learned to live with it.
As they set foot upon the floor, Jerid gave her a small bow and for a brief instant, a bit of surprise (though equally pleasant) flitted through her. Such... court-like gestures, even in so casual a presentation, was not something she was accustomed to. Her growing up was as far from noble as possible, and then she'd come into the Yards. It just wasn't something oft given to her.
She was not devoid of knowledge of such manners though and returned his gesture with a slight curtsy - not having practiced this, it was simple and quick, before she rose back up in time to lift her arms to his while they set into the dancing position and began to move to the music.
Mouse could not, for a moment, help but think that dancing and fighting really did have a lot in common, at least when it came to the feet. It made it easier on her, once she added the internal reminder that she would be working with his steps rather than against or around. She still felt a little awkward of gait at first, but as the melody proceeded and she continued to move her feet in time to his lead, she relaxed into it and it came more naturally.
The music and the dancing settled deeply into her mind and she couldn't help - or didn't try to stop - a small smile that reflected both on her lips and in her eyes.
If Mouse had been thrown off by his slight bow, Jerid was similarly surprised by her brief and barely noticeable reaction. He found it impossible to think she had never had offered such courtesy; whether in Ebou Dar or Caemlyn or even Illian, it had always seemed proper etiquette for menfolk, high and low alike.
Still, when the woman in blue curtseyed, Jerid smiled faintly. And then they were dancing, the Asha'man easily fell into the flow of the steps. Even as he sensed that Mouse was settling into the rhythm, he could not help but admire the natural grace she possessed.
The music itself took control of the Indigo's feet, slowly increasing in speed as his dance partner grew more accustomed to the steps. The dance felt like a part of the song being played, light-hearted and casual, yet lending a graceful undertone.
It also matched Mouse's expression, the gleam in those large dark eyes and the wide smile, something that rubbed off on him. Jerid's own gold-green gaze glittered with an easy nature, not often found in eyes that had seen decades pass.
The music soon strummed to its conclusion, after many graceful turns and twists about the dance floor. When it had finished Jerid took a step away from Mouse, and still holding her hand, ended the dance with another slight and courteous bow.
As he straightened the youthful Asha'man smiled once more and murmured, "Thank you, my Lady Mouse, for the dance. The Yards surely do produce some graceful dance partners."
It amazed Mouse in some quiet way how easily she was, after a few moments, able to fall into his steps with him. He was quite obviously a skilled dancer himself, despite any protestations of being 'rusty' - or perhaps it was not so much skill as confidence, for he led in a gently commanding sort of way; the way one should lead a dance.
Her last dance in this place had gone very much differently. It had had its own charm, of course, and she had made a good friend that night, but it was still another experience entirely.
When the dance ended, Mouse did not quite try the curtsy again but gave a very deep inclination of her head in thanks for the dance and in return for the respect shown. She smiled as she lifted her head again, hearing his words. Despite her size, she carried herself with that soft essence that spoke of pride of self, though without arrogance.
She had to look up to speak to people, but did not seem to be 'small' in any ...negative sense.
The Tower proper produces quite skilled dancers itself, she signed, forced to remove her hand from his then. I thank you as well, Master Jerid, for the offer and the opportunity. Would you ever wish to dance again, I would be happy to oblige. She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully for a moment. It is good for the spirit, I think, she added.
Jerid couldn't help but smile more broadly at Mouse's comment. She had carried herself quite well through the dance, something that echoed in her mention of the Tower producing dancers.
What he had been more impressed with was the way she seemed to apply that philosophy to all aspects of her life. Most might have been daunted by the inability to speak, and most who could speak might have shuddered at the hindrance, but not this woman in blue.
"It does indeed produce many fine dancers," he murmured in response. "And it should be I to thank you, but I would very much love a chance to grace the dance floor with you."
Her next comment caused him to grin slightly and he nodded in agreement. "I would concur. Dancing seems to lend itself to many aspects that inspire the spirit. And I would have to say it also fosters a sense of trust, and equality."
Jerid cocked his own head and he added after a moment, "And then it motivates the spirit merely for the sake of enjoying the evening." With another smile the Indigo said, "May I escort you back the table, Lady Mouse?"
Everyone was unique.
Mouse had often times heard people make comments that were akin to 'people are all the same', but as of yet, Mouse hadn't seen that in the least. Of all the people she had met, worked with, trained with and/or socialized with in her time here at the Tower, each one was very different from the other and had their own details that made them stand out, separately and each to their own, in her mind.
Now, whether she met him again or not, this night would be formed in her mind as another occurrence unique from all the rest. Much of the painful memories of her childhood had tried to recede away from her memory, or merge together, but in her life since coming to the Tower, memories formed and remained as they were. (This was a trait that had greatly helped her training over these many years.)
The dance, and the way he continued to call her 'Lady' would stand out the most, she thought.
Yes, she signed with a small nod and polite smile. That would be lovely. I confess I would like to take a few more moments to enjoy my cider. She paused for a brief moment.
Whenever she paused in her 'speech', she rested her hands against her collar bone like she was holding something there. This was how she rested her hands in between words, without having to raise and lower them all the time. And to enjoy some more conversation, if you've some time in your evening still, she continued after that moment.
Jerid had to admit to himself that he had originally come to the inn for a quiet evening to himself, but in the presence of a gregarious atmosphere. He was quite glad that a twist in the Pattern had allowed him to meet Mouse. It was a welcome reprieve from a well-worn book or a night milling over reports.
He smiled slightly at her response, his gold-green eyes quickly picking up the pattern of her hands. Whether she would continue to wish company or not was ultimately her choice, but common sense and a great respect for Mouse dictated an escort back to the table.
Jerid didn't move right away, however, noting the posture of the woman's hands. He read the body language as a pause, and waited patiently. He did not have long to wait, however, for Mouse was soon "speaking" again.
A faint smile spread across Jerid's mouth and he nodded slightly. "I would be delighted to continue in some conversation. It would be a ideal end to a dance." He held out and extended hand and another murmured "my Lady," and soon was walking back toward the table. Once there, another form of politeness manifested itself in pulling Mouse's chair out. Every Ebou Dari had had such traits grinded into their bones since a baby, and it was said they held such nature even in duels.
When both had found their seats, the Indigo tilted his head and then asked, "What would you like to converse about?"
When one was immersed in the Training Yards, everyone was broken down into one category of being: you were a trainee. It did not matter if you were male or female. You were there to train to be a Warder, and that was what it was. It was a necessary leveling of status for the training they endured.
Though men and women had different strengths and weaknesses, over-coming them was like anyone else having both of those things and working around them.
At first, it had been the camraderie that eventually formed that had been strange for Mouse, because she had spent those early years alone. Even when with her parents, it was just her parents - no siblings or peers, so from birth and through training, this courtesy shown to women was not something she was familiar with.
Not many things off set her any more, but this evening was proving that there were still a few simpler things that could.
Though she did her best not to show it, of course, and her training helped in that.
"What would you like to converse about?"
Mouse gave a small, almost... quirky... smile as she lifted her hands. You have already discerned that I am of the Warder Yards, though I did not tell you as much. I can tell that you are not from the Yards, however, but I can tell you are of the Tower, so from your bearing, I must deduce that you are an Asha'man.
In literal signs, 'Asha'man' translated into 'male power wielder' but it generally got the idea across.
You could be kind enough to tell me if I am correct, and if so, a little more of yourself. Lowering her hands, she took a sip of her cider.
Even as Mouse's hands danced in forming words and phrases, Jerid nodded at her assessment of him. It was really no surprise that she had mentioned that she was from the Yards, but she had not mentioned rank. Instinct told him she was a Gaidar, from the way she moved and carried herself, or at the very least a veteran trainer for one of her age.
As he took a sip of his cider, however, the topic of discussion manifested itself as Mouse signed. A bit of surprise flashed through his mind, though it did not penetrate the casual demeanor that he presented at the moment.
Altarans were renowned for three things: the number of festivals they celebrated, politeness, and their love for talking and boasting (well, that and dueling). Jerid had inherited two of those qualities, and talking about one's self hadn't been one of them. In general, the Asha'man rarely spoke these days unless the occasion called for it.
Keep it simple, you woolhead! It isn't as if she wanted to know the color of your daughter's tiled roof!
"Very well," he murmured politely, his voice slipping into his native Ebou Dari accent. It was a rare thing, occurring if he were in preferable company or extremely angered or disturbed.
"I am an Asha'man, yes, of the Indigo Ajah," he continued. "I came to the Tower from Ebou Dari, which seems like an Age ago. I believe Melabrid Daleb was M'Hael and Ceralyn A'Delin the Amyrlin Seat." There he smiled briefly, considering the length in which he been a Dedicated, surpassing any other in age. At one time he had come to accept being nothing more.
"I was a thief by profession at one time," he added simply, "and an irritant to the Seanchan in my city. There were times when they were chasing their own tails, and occasions when I had to take drastic steps to avoid capture." He grinned and chuckled. "Worst was trying to hide in a group of Wise Women by wearing a dress and make-up. Even got a proposal from one of the soldiers searching the building."
He rested both hands on the table now. Normally it was not one thing he revealed, but tonight had something that coaxed that tidbit from the Indigo. "The Tower," he murmured, "however, gave me a new direction. Here I found a new family, new friends. I was married to a Warder even, and raised children here."
That brought a bittersweet smile to his lips, a mixture of joy and sorrow. Aynaiss had since left, his son respun into the Pattern, and many friends passed from the halls. But then his daughter had also managed to make a life for herself, was matron to a healthy and respected Caemlyn family.
"One of my grandchildren actually resides here now," he added after a moment. "He enlisted in the rolls of the Yards as a drin'far'ji. Morgan Walker Cole."
He tilted his head then, pausing as he watched Mouse. Then after a moment he added, "But what of you? I must confess some curiosity, especially to whether you are a Gaidar or a rather talented instructor."
Due to her silence, and to the nature of her very self that the Pattern had woven around her, Mouse was a very good listener. She kept her attention on him, it did not wander, and the look in her eyes, the set of her head, all showed that she was hearing and comprehending the words that he said to her.
Mouse noted the accent, though she could not place it. Her wanderings had not taken her so far as that. The word of being a thief did not cause great surprise, for many had a variety of beginnings that restarted here - though the image of him dressed up like a Wise Woman caused a smile of amusement.
The reference to his Ajah caused a moment of internal curiosity and realization that she did know much of that one.
She understood him all too well when he spoke of the new life the Tower had given him. She had not found the whole of the life that he spoke of, but she had found a new life as well.
Grandchild? she thought with surprise, though it passed quickly. She had mostly gotten used to the fact that Channelers did not ever appear the age they truly were unless they were very young. She had learned that in knowing Miahala Sedai, after all. So the surprise here was only passing. Stranger still, she knew of his grandson - had not met him directly, as of yet, but she knew of the new trainees.
Then... he asked about her. It was inevitable of course. She could have danced around it as easily as they had danced around the floor, but that seemed rude, even if it was a dance she was all too familiar with. He had told her some of his tale - though she was not so naive as to think that it was all. Still, she would not ask more.
I am a Gaidar, she replied. It was a title hard earned and she was proud to speak it. My own tale is not half so interesting. I spent many years on my own before arriving here, at some points something of a thief, though not a very talented or ambitious one. Only ever food, really, and that was only when work could not be found.
I was part of a merchant caravan that came by the Tower, and I met an Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah who could speak my signs and she showed me the Warders. She paused, stopping herself from telling the whole of the reason behind her choice for the Yards. I wanted to become one of them, and this has since been my life.
It was Jerid's turn to listen (or watch) as Mouse "spoke," his own hands resting on the table, cradling the half-empty cup of cider. His gold-green gaze danced back and forth between the woman's hands and her deep black eyes.
Her first words confirmed his suspicions and settled much of his curiosity about that, and he smiled faintly at her apparent pride in the title. Attaining the fancloth was inevitably as difficult as it was going through the Great Stairs to attain the cord. But the mention of her being a Warder also rekindled the vague familiarity she had invoked earlier.
But Jerid pushed it aside, his attention on the young woman's tale. She had given him the same respect, and it was only right he did so too. Besides, this silent Warder fascinated him, much more than what she had confessed.
It did surprise him a bit to see the word 'thief' form in her hands, though it did not show in his expression. Her innocent-like appearance did not lend itself to the concept of being a thief, and he had seen his fair share of thieves adopt that persona. And yet you accept the fact that she is Gaidar without a blink. A very odd contradiction, Walker.
Jerid swatted the thought aside, his eyes on Mouse's hands forming phrases.
When she had finished, the Indigo lifted his cup and took a sip of his cider before setting back on the table. He cocked his head for a moment before murmuring respectfully, "I would disagree with the fact that your story is not so interesting. After all, anyone who has gone through the trials to become a Warder draws a great deal of interest. And admiration." He smiled at that last bit. Of course the Indigo had a suspicion there was a good deal more to Mouse's story, but he respected her privacy. "I would think you'd make a fine Warder to any who might ask a bond."
"And I wish I were so fortunate at times to have as normal a story as what you've told," he added after a moment. "The Seanchan seem to enjoy sending Seekers for Truth to collect someone who was a flea in their collars. You'd think after leaving the first one hanging from the ceiling rafters gagged and without his clothes, the Seanchan would be discouraged." He shrugged it away, however, as if to imply it was no concern.
Then he tilted his head once more and asked, "Are there any other topics you would like to talk about, my Lady?"
...to anyone who might ask a bond.
It was a phrase of respect, for which she gave a nod and smile of thanks to his words. Yet as complimentary as they were, they struck a chord he could not know about far down inside her mind. She recalled her conversation with Jip not too long ago, when she had met him to celebrate his own Raising; when she had confessed, however briefly, her uncertainty that anyone should wish her as their Warder.
Silence was a benefit, at times, but sometimes it was a detriment and she feared that no one would wish this particular hindrance in their guardian. Thus far, she had evidence of such. No one had asked, or even really shown interest in learning about her to be a potential warder... but perhaps she just didn't get out as much as others. Jip, as shy as he was, had one in and of interest.
Perhaps there was hope for her as well. Perhaps.
So it was that all these thoughts, but only flashes of themselves in her mind in the first place, were passed aside to be thought of later, when she was alone and had the time to afford them. There would always be plenty of time alone, but there was not always time of a duty-less evening and good company.
In reflecting on his words, she found that though she had yet to face the Seanchan, she had heard enough that they did not sound the sorts to be so easily discouraged... even though the image might provoke some sort of dark amusement.
To his question, she gave a curious smile. You do know that if you ask that too often, any subjects of interest have a habit of fleeing the brain? She asked, her expression one of good humor. I might have a dozen possible topics, yet one question might chase them away, if I'm not careful. A pause. What of you? You have agreed to the conversation. Is there anything that you should wish to converse about?
Jerid grinned in amusement at Mouse's comment. It was true that the topic of what to discuss could be varied and interesting, or could vanish from the mind like embers in the wind. And of course, it was an opportunity to further distance himself from his brief mention of Seanchan.
It had taken some effort for the Asha'man to hide the slight bitterness he usually felt when speaking of the subject. Granted his feelings for them had diminished over the years, and he had grown to at least respect Visela greatly, perhaps even as a friend, as odd as the relationship was. But it was still a sore issue, especially where his son was concerned.
Blasting it from his mind, Jerid leaned forward slightly and murmured, a bit in jest, "True, I did agree to conversation. But alas what subjects would there be, as there are so many as you said. The weather, or how one can easily yet politely disengage from a White discussing a lengthy issue of logic, or even those soulful eyes of yours."
He tilted his head, one hand rubbing his chin in thought. After a moment he smiled and murmured, "I know, a trade of knowledge. Tell me of the Yards, what it's like, and I'll offer anything you'd like to know of the Indigo. I must confess, beyond sparing there and my grandson's presence, I am still an outsider; it would be refreshing to have a Warder's viewpoint. If you are willing to, that is?"
How strange. In a single sentence, strikingly conflicting sensations and memories could be brought together in a minor clash of thought and emotion. So strange that such a thing could ever be, yet there it was.
Jerid had managed to bring forth a second flash of Mouse's time on the altar of Lycos al'Seraphim's insanity when he mentioned the White Ajah, and yet it was immediately followed with the reference to her eyes, one that she could not help but find a compliment and thus brought about a distinctly different reaction from the one regarding the Ajah of Logic.
It was not long for her to worry about the conflict, as he proposed a trade of information. Since she had just thought that she did not know much about his Ajah, this sounded very amenable to her and she signed as much to him.
But then... what to say of the Yards?
She fell 'silent' for a few moments while she thought over the Yards of the Warders, with its hard, varied people and the broad expanses of land filled with such action and movement. The corners of her lips quirked slightly as she brought her eyes back into focus, meeting his gaze and beginning the movements of her hands again.
The Yards are vast and terrifying to a young woman of my size. I will freely confess to how I felt at the time. I have come to call it home and get used to that, but it is immense for a new-comer, and you can get lost in so much open space. Her expression was amused now, though.
It is filled with many different sorts of people - attitudes, sizes, strengths and abilities, yet none seem to mean anything to any other. You cannot predict what each person's strength or personality will be. I know you can say that about all people and everywhere, and it's true, but in the Yards it all seems more extreme than in other places. At least in as much as I've found.
Yet no matter where any of us of start, we all strive for the same and the sense of duty that people hear of is true, at least for those of us who reach that last tier of the Yards as Gaidin and Gaidar. None are unclear or flinching in their understanding of what we are here for and we shall see it done, whether the cost is time, effort or our lives.
Even as she spoke of the understanding that she may have to lay down her life for another later on, her face was fairly impassive, and the small bits of emotion that escaped this were not unhappy ones. It was simply a fact of her life and the life of those who stood beside her in the Yards and they accepted it.
For Mouse, though, it was something more, something a little deeper driven.
It was the memory of her father that night when she was but a small child, watching the way his sword moved so fast through the air that it could barely be seen, fending off who she now realized were the Black Ajah Sedai and Warder... His sacrifice for her mother, and her - even though it turned out he had not died then, he'd been ready to.
She would forever strive to be as strong a Warder as he had been.
The things one could say about the Yards are as immense as they are, but I think this covers the essence of it and keeps my words from running too long into the night, she concluded with one of those silent laughs. Except to add one final thing: the Yards are never truly at rest.
Again Jerid cupped his cider between his hands as Mouse's hands danced in forming phrases and words. He saw the enthusiasm with which she signed, could understand her viewpoint.
It was simple and yet complex at the same time. He had always respected many Warders for what their role was in life, what the Pattern had woven it to be so. But what Mouse described was something Jerid could never completely conceive. Even when he had been married to Aynaiss, he had been an outsider, watching the Yards through a channeler's eyes.
And yet he could also understand the aspect of extremes, as it seemed the Yards brought that out in most souls. It established a sense of focus that could be found in very few places. As well he understood the cause for which they fought, what Warders served. The Indigo had bonded before, more than once, though it had technically had not allowed, at least for one, when he had been but a Dedicated. The first had been an accident, the first act of channeling for a young man.
Her last statement however, drew a wide smile and a soft chuckle from Jerid. He looked at Mouse and he murmured, "I can imagine it, never resting, especially given that the Master of Arms is constantly keeping it in motion and all within on their toes." Even as he spoke that last part, there was great respect in his voice at he mentioned the Yards' general. Caden Ives had earned that respect, many times over, and was a good...friend was not the word...comrade, one Jerid had learned much from.
He tilted his head and paused before saying, "The Indigo Ajah is much the same way, I think, never at rest, always moving forward. In a way it moves much like an energetic youth, exploring its purpose much as a young man or woman would the world, if with slightly more caution. I guess it comes from being the youngest Ajah, a child of the Tower, and like the Tower itself, unique.
"Most view the Indigo as nothing more than the guardians of objects of the One Power, of the Vaults, but it is far more diverse. There are those who have a tendency toward studying ter'angreal, like myself, but then there are also those who might explore Talents or specific areas like Portal Stones or Wolfkin."
Jerid paused briefly and it was plainly obvious that the gears in his mind were churning. "I think the Indigo is a blend of many other Ajahs, inheriting traits from the others much like a child does from a child. From the Green, passion to pursue our cause, and a logical approach to certain areas we gain from the White. We get the desire to learn and collect from the Brown, as well as the thrill of discovering something new. I think that was what drew me toward the Ajah initially, and even after over six decades pursuing that, it is still much the same way."
He smiled briefly. "I remember the M'Hael's passion when he taught me on the subject of Talents when he was the First Seeker. He was the preeminent expert in that field, and yet he did not seemed disillusioned. There was always something else to uncover, some other Talent waiting to be discovered or recovered from the Age of Legends. A bit of that rubbed off on me, though it was more for ter'angreal."
The only thing he could think of that had changed about the Ajah had been the faces. He had left the Tower for sixteen years, returning only to see many had left. Brec and Llewellyn had gone, and so had Oshari. Replacing them had been Lembirt and Aric, a fine First Seeker, and even Liana en'Daimer had grown into a very well respected Aes Sedai.
"Above all, I am at a loss for words on how it's like, save that it is unique, always on the move toward some sort of discovery."
He paused, the gold flecks in his green eyes dancing like scattered embers. "I think, had it not existed, my choice would have led me toward the Green or Yellow Ajahs, but I could not be happier with any other decision. Whether it is the thief I was or the old soldier I am, I welcome the chance for change and to see what discovery lays in the beyond."
As Jerid spoke, Mouse rested her elbow on the edge of the table and then her chin upon the heel of her hand. It was nice to talk to people who could talk, as she could actually watch them, watch their faces, without having to concentrate on their hands. It was necessary for people to watch her hands, of course, but she liked to be able to watch people's faces.
He had very intriguing eyes, she realized, but it was a passing thought in and around her listening of his words.
She listened as he spoke of his Ajah and the feeling he felt towards it was quite plain to be seen. It was always very enjoyable to listen to people talk about the things they were passionate about. It created a sense around them, enlivened them, and it was nice to be around that, because after a time, one began to feel it themselves.
I fear that I have not known as much about your Ajah, Mouse said with a faint apologetic smile when he fell quiet. Until now, at least, and I thank you for that. I have more knowledge of the Green and the Blue, and... Her hands faltered for just the briefest of moments. And the Yellow, she finished.
Jerid was smiling. It was actually a refreshing change of pace to talk to about something so openly. Rare was the occasion when he could do that, and not since the Sovin Tar's mission to Gheldian and the attack on the Tower had he spoken at length to anyone. He kept most people at a distance, even his daughter and grandchildren.
Granted it was an aspect necessary to his new role as Master of Soldiers, but it was actually a relief. In a way Mouse reminded him of Llewellyn, in that she was easy to talk to as well as casually converse with. And surprisingly, it didn't grow worse when she tried to persuade you into a bond when you were raised, sparked a thought. Bonds had always been a topic that made the Indigo skitish, more so than discussing Seanchan achievements. But with Lyn, it had been easier to deal with, for some odd reason.
Ultimately Jerid pushed the thought into the back of his mind, to be analyzed later when he actually listened to his mind. Mouse's hands were already fluttering with new phrases and it did take a bit of concentration to understand. Warder hand signals were limited in some ways, and her 'language' was more akin to that of the Maidens of the Spear, requiring more effort to discern.
Jerid smiled when the Gaidar mentioned her confession about his Ajah, to which he smiled and nodded in acknowledgement of. But what caught his interest was the brief pause just before the mention of the Yellow Ajah. It was something his curiosity couldn't let escape. Much like a cat did a bird, he had to pursue it.
"I am happy I could expand such knowledge of my Ajah, my Lady," he murmured. "For a time I had, as I said, I had considered the Yellow, the thought of applying my Talent for Healing, and there was a very motivated Asha'man trying to tempt me in that direction." He smiled faintly at Aden's attempts to sway him into the Yellow Ajah, but Jerid had been adamant in his decision. "What is it that you know about the Yellow? Do you know any of the Brothers or Sisters that belong to it?"
Internally, Mouse cursed herself for that slight hesitation. It was a small thing, and something that really shouldn't matter - why was she so worried to say anything about this, as she was doing nothing wrong - but it was such an odd situation that she tended to keep it entirely to herself. It just seemed like it was safer that way... She didn't know safer in what way, but just safer. Better.
It was too late now, though. She had let some small part of her guard down in the friendly and casual conversation.
What, really, was she so worried about?
Covering her uncertainty, she gave a small smile, though it was more guarded than her previous expressions. Being a Warder, I have come to meet many Yellows, she said and it felt coy even to her, and she wasn't sure it suited her... but there it was. I do have one friend who is an Asha'man of that Ajah, though, yes.
To herself, her mind whispered: Yet you didn't say the name, now did you? She ignored that little voice, as best she was able to.
A fox usually knew when the farmer was hiding the hens, went an old saying went. Jerid, despite his cautious nature, was still very much like a fox, at once both mischievous and observant.
That aspect of the Indigo had caught the change in Mouse's expression, the sudden reserved curve of her smile. And it only further inflamed his curiosity in his about her knowledge of the Yellow Ajah, or rather a particular Asha'man. There were few in the Ajah, but still too many to gauge who it might have been.
Jerid took a sip of his cider as Mouse signed, and carefully setting it down, he decided on following what his heart ruled the wisest course of action.
"This Asha'man must be a good friend, to have mentioned him," he said respectfully. "He is fortunate to know you, I would think." He did not speak further on that one issue. Instead he murmured, "The Yellow I know, Aden Cole Asha'man, is a good man, a good friend. I only wish his Warder was similar." He had to smile wryly at that. Galen still carried the grudge his Asha'man had left behind with Jerid's departure as the Yellow's aide. "He nearly beat me to a bloody pulp in a spar, and sent me to the Infirmary. I have to respect Galen Gaidin, though, for he has a wicked maneuver with a sword."
Mouse was relieved that he did not continue to pursue the question, although she could not help but catch a look in his eye that made her think he wanted to. She did not like to keep secrets, because she had so many to keep in her life and it became very tiring after so long, even once it was a very solidly developed habit. She sometimes wished she could just... speak it all, or sign it, as it were.
The trouble with this secret, though, was that she didn't really know what the secret was. Mouse had no idea what it was between Lucan and she... She didn't even really know what she felt. She felt... something. It was impossible to not know that much, but she knew they weren't anything declared. She was not the only woman he pursued, and they weren't speaking much now as it was.
Mouse was flattered when Jerid said that anyone would be fortunate to know her, though she wondered at this in the case of Lucan and she - both for him, and for herself.
Aye, she signed, in response to what he had just said. I have not worked with Galen Gaidin at all, but I know at least of most the Warders of the Tower, so I do know of him. I would not want to meet him in a spar, for certain. She gave another one of those silent laughs, smiling a little more freely again, though there was still something, now, that was restraining her.
I do know Thea Sedai a little, and her warder Ryne, she added, just recalling it. She is a very nice woman.
Jerid nodded, a slight chuckle escaping him. Galen had certainly had as much of a reputation for being a harsh taskmaster as his bondmate did. Only with Aden, the Indigo had never had to worry about broken bones when arguing, just Amadician temperament.
The mention of a Thea Sedai raised vague recognition in Jerid's mind, but he could hardly put a face to the name. He gave an apologetic smile and murmured, "I am afraid I have not the privilege of meeting Thea Sedai or her Warder. I know a few Blues, Greens, and even an Grey or two."
And none of them the faces you came to know as friends, he thought. Of course Jerid smiled at the thought of a particular Green. "Of course, I doubt I've ever met anyone with as much passion as Deranih Sedai of the Green. A very effective leader, she had also had a great deal of...fire."
He titled his head, as to ponder something. "Of course we usually argued more off than not, and I doubt most Dedicated would have survived that unscathed, doing so openly with the Keeper of Chronicles," he added, musing.
I wonder if he knew my mother, the thought leapt with all suddenness into her mind as it again occurred to her that she had no idea what age Jerid was, but it was enough to have grandchildren just some years younger than Mouse. Selenirra had been a Blue, Mouse had since learned in her years in the Tower. He said he knew some from that Ajah...
She was filled with a sudden longing to ask, but she restrained herself with great effort and instead retrained her focus on Jerid and what he was saying.
His hesitation before the word fire brought to mind Mouse's own hesitation over the mention of the Yellow Ajah just a few minutes ago. She wondered if there were any similarities, but of course she did not ask, since it was not any of her business to do so. Instead, her eyes widened slightly and she gave a surprised and amused smile when he mentioned arguing openly with the Keeper of the Chronicles.
Brave man to try so, and at Dedicated yet, she signed. I am very impressed that you managed to escape that, hide in tact, especially as she had been raised from the Green as it was.
The wide grin remained on Jerid's lips even as Mouse signed in response. It had been a miracle indeed, especially given to Deranih's fiery temper. The woman had inspired as much anger and frustration as she had love and warmth, much like a sister would have.
And like many others she had vanished, only against her will by the Aiel. He had not realized it at the time, nor had he need to. The Indigo had decided at that time to depart from the Tower with his daughter, to return to the ancestral Caralain manor. He had been surprised the Tower had condoned such action from a Dedicated.
"I don't think it was so much bravery as it was stubbornness," he commented with a chuckle. "Perhaps I escaped punishment because at one time Deranih was a student of mine, and I pushed her just a bit more than I did other students at the time. We never saw eye to eye on things, and Deranih and I both refused to give ground on any subject."
He tilted his head then and added, "Hadn't always that kind of luck, though, especially when a Dedicated was being dragged by the ear by Saphire Sedai to the First Selector's office." He winced slightly at the memory, not so much from the physical pain at the time but the cause for it. It was a subject he avoided as much as possible. "This was when the Lord Sigmund was her Warder, not the Amyrlin's. I do not know what was worse, having an ear yanked by a Sitter or her Gaidin behind in case I attempted to escape her grasp."
Of course he had to grin wryly at the memory. "Sparring would have been more preferable than to that moment."
With another silent laugh, though a tempered one, Mouse replied, Having met Saphire Sedai and having trained with Master Sigmund, I can very well imagine. And she certainly could. Although her meeting the Green had been a far nicer setting than the one Jerid spoke of, she had still been intimidated... and Master Sigmund? That was a given.
In her career in the Yards, she had been very fortunate to not get much into trouble... or at least, no trouble that was her own fault or bore punishment from the leadership for it. She'd gotten into other sorts of trouble, but that was another matter all together.
I am grateful, though, that you did indeed manage to survive it, as otherwise I would not have been able to enjoy the dance this evening and the lovely conversation, she added with a smile and a lift of her glass towards him in a casual toast before taking a sip and finishing what cider remained inside it.
There was no doubt that Mouse understood Jerid's meaning. The Indigo had served with both in the Sovin Tar's mission to rescue the Tower's informants. Both were ruthlessly efficient in the field, especially against minions of the Shadow.
But then those few dark days were something he wished to dwell on at another time. He would rather wish to dwell on the more humorous of mishaps.
Jerid grinned and returned Mouse's toast before drinking the last of his own cider. "I too am fortunate to have survived, ear intact. It has been a long while since I've had the opportunity to dance and talk with a very graceful and charming person."
He set the empty cup on the table and added, "It is indeed good to have met you, my Lady Mouse Gaidar." His gold-green eyes glittered in the light as he spoke.
Mouse smiled in response to his flattering comments, still not used to such attention, though she was at least not of a blushing or swooning disposition. (No one would survive the Warder Yards if they were!) She gave another deep inclination of her head in thanks.
I am glad to have met you as well, Jerid Asha'man, she replied with a sincere expression in those dark eyes as they met his gaze. I fear that I should call this evening to a close, as I have to wake early to teach an archery class. But I do hope to meet you again soon.
Jerid tilted his head and nodded in response to Mouse's own 'words.' The evening was indeed growing late and it was time to retire, especially considering his new duties.
"I too hope to meet you again, my Lady. And I understand the need to call it an evening. I fear I will have to do the same shortly," he said. "I no doubt will be expecting at least one troublesome Soldier to grace my path in the morning."
He stood slowly then and in one last act of polite courtesy, held out a hand as if to assist her in standing before saying, "Good eve, my Lady. Sleep well and wake."
Mouse's large, dark eyes followed him as he got to his feet and moved around the table to come up beside her chair. The look was one not really readable, caught somewhere between the creature of prey she was nick-named for and the predator that she had been trained to become.
One slender and work-worn hand rose up to take his and allow him to assist her to her feet, though both knew that a Gaidar was certainly capable... but she liked the gesture. She inclined her head and smiled in thanks as she did so. Mouse was very reluctant to see the evening come to a close, as she had greatly enjoyed the dance and the pleasant company of the Indigo Asha'man.
Good night, Master Walker, she signed to him, giving one more glance before turning and heading out of the Inn. Many a thought filled her mind as she did so and it would be a hard battle to contain them so that the night would bring some rest.
