Fanfic:The Stalker
| Author(s) |
|
|---|---|
| Character(s) |
|
This is a piece of fanfiction. Only the original author(s) or Librarian(s) should make content changes to this page. |
The mind is a curious thing. It is both the rudimentary part of living, activating the life form and allowing it to function. In humans, it allows for a higher level of learning and understanding that is not afforded to all creatures. At the same time, the mind is fragile, and it, too, can be broken and left to crumble under pressure. So was the case of the fragile mind of one particular First Reasoner.
Within the mind of "The only bloody White that makes any flaming sense" resided a stranger to the ways of the Grey Tower. Daivon Latet was what Sydias should be, who he strived to remember and would eventually regret being. The man Sydias Caspian had been in his past was not a man that anyone would be proud of being. Dark, foul, and of questionable allegiances, Daivon Sydias Caspian had been an enigma. Sydias had just found his birth name three days ago when he and Serrah had travelled to the Turmool, and he had been unable to handle the overload of information to his brain. It had shut him out, and in his place had come Daivon. Unknown to any in the Tower, it had been this way since that morning in the Turmool. Daivon knew Sydias well enough to act the part without hesitation.
Daivon currently stood in the corridors of the Indigo Ajah. He was officially here as Sydias, on business with one or another of the members of the Indigo Ajah. Likely he would run into a familiar face, but that was not what concerned him. His true desire this day was to play the Great Game, getting as close to Lady Liana en'Damier, Sitter of the Indigo Ajah, as he could. He desired to study her behavior and learn more of her. There was something very suspicious about her, and Daivon did not trust her. She would ruin his plans for Sydias. There were places and agendas yet to be attained. She would see Daivon dead and Sydias Gentled before she would ever accept the reality in Daivon's head.
Daivon reached into the inside pocket of his coat and retrieved a small, left-handed glove. A year ago he had stolen it from Liana's room the day he met her. He managed to hide it from Sydias in a small cubbard in Sydias' own apartments. When he had withdrawn it, he brought it up close to his face and sniffed. Ahhh, the scent of her fragrance is still there. Faint now after so long, but I still note it. He pocketed the glove swiftly to make sure none had seen what he had done.
He made his way over to the main door leading to Liana's appartments. He looked around cautiously, still hoping no one could see him. The coast looked clear. He withdrew a small piece of parchment and slid it beneath her door. He made his way back down the corridor and far out of site, as if he had never been there. He would be close by still, listening to see what the poor en'Damier thought of that.
The note he had left had taken quite some time to doctor up. The writing was so blocky and plain that the original writer of the message would be nearly unable to trace. Of course, he had hired someone to hire someone to write it, so it would be doubtful that it would ever get back to him or Sydias. The message he left her was quite simple.
Quote:I am always watching.
I am always watching.
The writing was indiscernible, at least to her eyes. Liana lowered the sheet just as a shiver rippled through her. She hadn't felt this unnerved since the last of the three years when Caithlan and Lembirt had been away. She opened herself to saidar instantly, and everything became sharper, brighter. She saw no weaves that were not her own around her apartments, but that did not mean she could see the mark of saidin or know if someone had hired a servant out from under her as a spy. She would have to be more careful about what she said near Nora.
Liana looked to the hearth and thought seriously on crumpling up that slip and letting it burn. Assassin or no, she had the strength of will to meet whatever threatened her.
Neither was she alone. Not anymore. The thought barely passed through her mind before she was out the door. Still holding saidar and the slip of parchment, she looked both ways before continuing on.
There was someone, at least someone, who might be able to tease apart the handwriting and origin of this note . .
It had taken Lembirt some time to find all of his furniture and barter back the stuff that was in use, but now the smaller sitter's office was arranged almost identically to how his previous offices had been set up - even down to the glass cone paperweight set.
Although his quarters retained their fastidious neatness, Lembirt himself did not. His shirt and coat were both partially open at the neck, his long hair was askew, and his face still had the half-starved look of a stray animal.
When the knock came at his door, he channeled a brief thread of spirit into the ter'angreal there. The misty form of Liana appeared, announcing her presence. The new peep-hole wasn't nearly as good as the last one - for some reason, he could never seem to craft the same ter'angreal twice effectively.
"Come in, Liana Sedai," he called in a cool, neutral tone. He could not see her expression, but given their last encounter he could only assume that she was here for professional reasons.
As Liana entered, she found herself suddenly silenced. Where she had been confident, she was now diffident. Their eyes instantly met and her cheeks were overspread with a blush.
"Light illumine you, Lembirt Asha'man, I offer my congratulations." she smiled gently. It was not exactly a promotion, more like a reinstatement to an office of power, although through the Ajah and not through the larger branch of the Hall of Sitters. In many ways he was starting over again in politics by the good graces of Brother Aric, as it was a most extreme penance Lembirt had endured, which cost him the Office of Master of Soldiers. Yet it did mean his star was rising once again. It seemed whoever he had offended had forgiven him, and she and he were now equals. They would sit in the Hall together, and . . .
At some length there was silence. She scarcely lifted her eyes to his face, and knew not how to proceed through civil inquiries in light of their last meeting. At last she retrieved the slip of paper and said, "There is something else. Another reason I have called." and with a gloved hand she lay the slip on the surface of his desk. "There is a matter that has caused me some unrest." it was no small confession, it had in-fact, quite distressed her. "I discovered this brief missive under my door and know not the fist that lettered it." The implications were clear, once read. Someone was trying to intimidate her - to hunt her like a doe in the wood, and cause unrest, perhaps before the kill. "I desire a name, so that an end may be put to it." She stepped forward, and her brows knit with worry. "Would you do this for me?"
Her instincts told her that the other two she could approach for this favor would not lead to her learning who encroached on her privacy. There might be a body found in a store room with a knife plunged in the base of the neck, or no body found at all, and the vexing messages would suddenly cease. No, her curiosity wanted quenching.
There was something else she would not, could not, admit even to herself. Very few had the heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. As he had said, his heart was malnourished, and might never feel more without attention. So too did women generally judge the love a men had for them by the pains they took to please them and to pursue them. If she left him an opening, a chance to help her, then it would suit them both.
This was an intention she heartily suppressed for Caithlan's sake, yet it could not entirely be ignored. Her prior relationship with Lembirt ran longer and deeper than the slight preference expected at the onset of courting. Following his final words that night he had returned, she found it exceedingly difficult to shake off. And so she had come, asking for his aid.
Lembirt had expected that Liana would visit him for professional reasons - perhaps to discuss some new ruling in the Hall. They were both Sitters now, after all. Or perhaps something involving her research, whatever that was. Lembirt realised that in fact he had been away long enough to have no idea what it was that she studied.
He certainly hadn't expected her to come to him with a personal matter, not after his performance on the night he had returned to the Tower. And the nature of the request... certainly there were others she could turn to?
But then, he was of a much different mind set than those others, and perhaps that had led her decision.
He considered the note for a long moment before he spoke, tweaking the paper between his fingertips to get a sense of the quality.
"I would," he said sincerely, "But I must tell you that this will be more than difficult. I have not the network of contacts within the Tower that I once did - that was lost during my absence, and I have not yet had the chance to restore it fully."
He set the paper down, and folded his hands neatly on the desk surface before him. "Please sit, Liana Sedai," he said with a slight gesture. "There are some other questions that I would ask."
Her interest in him inspired a wash of relief that she did not think of concealing. And as Lembirt continued, Liana recovered and began to recall how she had betrayed it. Yet she was also unprepared for what came next. It occurred to her that she had not thought farther than to make this request, and expected to excuse herself shortly thereafter. Now there was reason to remain and she was silently grateful for the excuse.
"I understand, and my most heartfelt thanks are yours." Liana said with a grateful nod and a smile. She accepted the invitation to sit. Curious. She knew no more about the brief missive than she had already stated. How could she answer?
"You are always welcome to my aid, Liana, in any matter," Lembirt replied, and a slight smile graced his face. The quirk of his lips was slight, but to anyone used to spending time around those of a reserved nature, the crinkle about his eyes was telling.
In truth, he wanted to offer Liana his most heartfelt thanks for accepting the seat - she really didn't have to, after all. Any sight that she might still harbour some affection or regard for him, however platonic it might be, was worth more to him than a king's ransom in ter'angreal.
There was a pot of tea already warming before his hearth, so he quickly seized saidin to bring it, and a pair of cups, to the desk. Normally he wouldn't have used the Power for so mundane a task, but he was loathe to stand and break the flow of the conversation.
"Tea?" he offered, pouring the tea into the two cups and gently sliding one across the broad desk that Liana could reach it.
The nicities taken care of, Lembirt returned to the matter at hand. "Have there been any other violations of your privacy that you believe could be related to this? Anyone suspicious coming to visit, or anything missing from your chambers? Have you received any other suspicious notes?"
Her astonishment was extreme, Why is he altered so? It cannot be for my sake his manners are thus softened. she denied silently, My reproofs could not work such a change as this. 'Tis impossible that he should still love me. "Aye. My thanks, again." she replied graciously. Her expression was even brighter.
Liana looked down as if for the removal of her thinly woven gloves; but truly, she found the need to hide how her coloring had warmed. So too was it to catalogue the gentle affections he showed her before she answered. From another they could have been accepted as simply kind courtesy. But she knew Lembirt. His use of her given name alone was as intimate as her address of 'thee' and 'thou'. He hoped, she was certain of it, to elicit the same warm regard she had had for him years ago. And, in spite of how afraid as she was of being trifled with again, she found herself easily slipping back into the game they had played so long ago.
He had never poured tea for her before. It was courtesy, for anyone but initiates of the Tower, and yet she flattered herself to think it was not so common from him. "An exceptional tea, if I am any judge of it. Altaran?" she mused with a knowing smile, and used the pause for sipping to collect her thoughts on the questions that were now before her.
They cast her thoughts back. "No other notes, nor visitors. Not a thing recently . . " she considered, " . . . yet there are a few incidents a year or more past that are suspect." She told him first of calling on Brother Sydias to help her mother in despair, and how ugly the conversation had turned. "I could have sworn he was taint-mad, yet he denied 'tis so and claimed he has two names, two souls, in one body." Her brow knit at this, she still did not understand what he had been getting at. "He was not the First Reasoner then," an important note regarding the breech in rank, "and yet defied me, for I forbade him to see my mother in such a state. There was nothing following that except that my mother did recover by his counsel and I was forced to accept it." In a way, that trespassed her privacy and her authority too.
But that was not the most salient incident. Liana's tone became very serious, even halting. It was exceedingly difficult to speak of, but if it would help, she would risk trusting him with this.
"Forgive me, Lembirt, I must be uncouth . . " Without further preamble, she then explained how in preparation for her quest to Worlds End she had seen something dark and sinister, and had been assaulted for it, captured, and even the memory had been rubbed out of her mind with a forbidden weave.
"Trakin, for I will not name him Brother nor an Asha'man, bid me swear to the Dark One." there was a slight tinge of pain in her voice that made her pause to gather her nerve. "He threatened to . . " He had threatened to force himself on her. Even now, she could not put that into words, nor how violated she had felt. But perhaps it echoed in her face and in her voice. "That was when Caden Gaidin and two Drin'far'ji found me. Trakin and the Ji'alantin with him were dispatched, praise the Light." she forced a pleased smile, "He made a most agreeable 'thump' when he hit the floor." but it quickly faded.
She was deeply pained to see that she could not control her emotions. It distressed her, too, to perceive that Lembirt had seen them; but this distress was tempered by a certain pleasure. Liana looked down again, summoning the mask of an Aes Sedai to force herself into stillness.
And that was when she remembered. The gloves in her lap . .
"At some time a year ago," she looked up to Lembirt's face again. "one of my winter gloves became unaccounted for. It was a favorite, and I turned my apartment over looking for it. Yet . . " her expression began to relax again with the change of topic. " . . 'tis such a trivial thing. I ne're thought of it again until now."
Lembirt, though a gifted player of the Great Game and clearly an intelligent man, nad always had some trouble with the concept of Empathy. He understood pain and happiness and all the other emotions, but on some level he had never been able to master the concept that other people felt those same emotions, and to the same extent or perhaps even more greatly.
Yet when Liana revealed a sampling of the horrors she had faced, Lembirt felt as if he has been struck in the face. How could anyone dream of harming Liana, dear Liana? Such a creature could scarecly be human!
He knew there was more - and something terrible, too, that she had not revealed to him, but he dared not press her for the information.
Finally, she told him of the theft of a glove - it did sound trivial, indeed, but it was the only incident she had mentioned where he had something physical to work with.
When he finally spoke, it was in the deceptively mild tone Lembirt resorted to when he sought to keep some powerful emotion from his voice. "I am grieved to hear that such things have befallen you, and..." and I wish I had been here, that I might have provented some of this "I give you my word as though I swore it against the Oath Rod that I will find the one that has so threatened you."
His words made all the impression he could desire, and thoroughly convinced her of his passion. 'Tis true, then. His feelings have ne're wavered. Nay, he is even more resolved than before . . for there was no more binding oath than that which he had given her. Perhaps more importantly, Liana felt the relief and satisfaction that had been void since his return - Lembirt finally understood her, and sought to right how she had been wronged.
Liana rose and crossed the distance. Silently, she looked down at the surface of his desk. One of his glass cones refracted the light and focused it into a burst across that most disturbing missive.
There was a pause not unlike the quiescent silence the night when he had stolen into her apartments. The night he had told her he loved her. It expanded to fill all the space between them.
Still looking down, still afraid, she placed her hand over his. The gesture held volumes of meaning. Liana both tensed and relaxed simultaneously, as if sensitive to touch yet yearning for it to endure.
She looked up to met his gaze then. The mask slid aside and there was gentle sincerity plain on her face.
"My heart is glad that you have come home," to me "Lembirt. I . . waited long for thee."
The Dark Friend Turpis Fidens had made his first appearance at the Grey Tower just hours before that good for nothing Mistress of Novices had married that Blue Asha'man, Riven Trimak. Their names would have been forgotten as unimportant, except that these two happened to be very close friends of Sydias Caspian's. And if the man who went by the name Turpis was to finish his mark and score his prize, he would need to keep their names fresh in his mind.
Since that day, he had found himself a job within the Tower as one of the many servants. He worked now for Mathusis Diorn of the Brown Ajah. It was far enough away from Sydias that the Shienaran would not suspect he was being watched, yet it was close enough that either he himself or his inside man could keep an eye on him.
Yet it was his inside man who shocked him with news of a task Sydias had set before him. This insider was actually a Dark Friend much like him, who he had discovered was working inside, pretending to be an Eye and Ear for Irivan Harlis of the White. Apparently Sydias did not know that Kyp al'Haranel was working for one of his own, and he met him in the streets of town not far from the Tower itself. Yet what Ol' Kyp had to say about the Caspian lad had actually sent shivers down Turpis' spine, and it was Turpis that followed the Lord of the Dark, not this amnesiac.
Sydias had approached Ol' Kyp in disguise, had reveled himself as "Daivon" nearly a month before Sydias Caspian announced to the Tower that he would claim that as his first name. (He had apparently discovered a partial diary of his past, in which his first name was revealed to be Daivon, yet he declared he would still retain the name Sydias as his common-use name, as more people knew him by his middle name than his first name. It was all quite odd indeed.)
The strangest thing occured that afternoon, though. Sydias was walking down the halls with a different...air about him, a slight boost in his step that Ol' Kyp had warned him about. Out of a growing suspission, Turpis made way to follow Sydias at a distance and quickly feigned an excuse up in his mind. He made his way slowly behind him, watching him whenever there was a moment and turning his back and pretending to be busy the rest of the time as he trailed slowly behind. They wound up in the Indigo Halls, rounded a few corners, and walked up to what had to be the Sitters' Quarters. Sydias withdrew a glove, sniffed it of all things, then hurriedly pocketed it and looked around to make sure he had not been seen. Turpis had to dive behind a statue in the hall to prevent Sydias from seeing him.
Sydias withdrew a slip of paper and slid it under a door. There was no mistaking who was on the other side of that door. Those were the rooms of Liana en'Damier, grand daughter of the Amyrlin Seat herself, that pig! Part of Turpis wanted to know what this was about, another part wanted nothing to do with it. Part of him desired to help Sydias out, another part of him wanted to warn Liana and rush the plot against Sydias. The timing could not have been any better!
Yet as Sydias was straightening himself from Liana's door and turning on his heel, Turpis had slithered off back towards whence he had come, his mind racing with the possibilities of what were on that note. Moments later, he would double back and attempt to watch Liana from a distance. He would need to know what had been on that paper...
Moments later Turpis had followed close enough to see that Liana had made her way to another Sitter's door, one that Turpis did not know of. He did, after all, keep to the Brown Ajah Halls more often than not. He had stayed close enough to see this, yet remain far enough behind and off to either side to not be a dead give away. He had caught a faint glimpse of a note in indistinctive block lettering, but could not make out the contents. Whatever it held upon it, Liana did not seem thrilled to see the note, and she had all but run to this door.
Knowing he had all the information he could at the time, he decided he would pay Ol' Kyp a visit to find out just what it was that Sydias, or "Daivon," had wanted last month. He may need to make a few new "Friends" within the Grey Tower...
The words that Liana spoke could have been a coincidence, but Lembirt knew that they were not. So many years ago, when he had awarded her the Indigo-fringed shawl atop the Great Stair, the words he had spoken to her had been nearly identical.
But how could he respond? It had been ceremony the last time those words were spoken, and no response had been warranted. Now, one was, and Lembirt hadn't a clue of how to procede. The moment of silence swelled, trembled on the verge of passing into becoming unconfortable.
She must harbour affection for me, or she would not have spoken such. But the Warder... Light blind the Warder!
Without speaking, without letting himself fear the almost inevitable reprimand, Lembirt lifted her hand from the surface of the desk and placed a chaste kiss there.
"Your welcome warms my heart," he said, meeting her eyes.
And then, after a moment, "I should begin work on this immediately."
He kissed her. She felt his lips against her skin . . .
Liana was on the edge of a precipice. She was wavering, about to fall. A great effort, a violent struggle, alone could save her from it. She knew this. Yet with Lembirt, each sensation was amplified. For that moment her self-control slipped and she let him perceive all of her true feeling. Lembirt had injured her by neglect. But so too did great affections and violent passions greatly alter people.
However, Liana also knew what she owed Caithlan. She loved him ardently; and the fear of injuring him even deeper tightened within her.
"Aye," she said, "and I ought not linger . ."
Realizing what she had said, what she had done, she slipped away and retreated towards the door and safer ground. "I bid thee good day." she said with a courtly dip in her posture, and then she let herself out.
Time must untangle this, not I, 'tis too hard a knot for me to untie. Hence, she resolved to make a great effort to control herself; but the rest of the day she devoted to indulging in the feelings that harassed her.
