Fanfic:Triumph
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The Yards were covered in hoarfrost this early spring night.
His breath crystallised in the air. His arms were leaden with exhaustion. His lungs were frozen by the sharp air. Yet his body radiated heat like a furnace - making his skin fume in depletion. Every part of his hands ached by the trial he put them through. The hilt of his long sabre was slick with sweat - refused to harden to ice by his non-seizing movement.
The movement was one, but the variations many.
They had names; old names that the Blademasters of yore had made immortal through their students. One variation turned into another, the names changed yet the intent remained the same. They were the names of murder, and Caden Ives knew them all. Through the years, he had not deluded himself to think they were more than they were. Man always craved to justify his actions, with titles and favourable misconceptions of honour.
If Death had names, some of them could be found in the way of the sword. Yet by naming Death, one never failed to draw its attention.
To him, respite could be found in summoning Death this way. For in craving its notice, he forgot everything else. The self-flagellation he conducted in the freezing night left his mind void of all else. That was his purpose, to forget the reality he suffered; expel the memories from his head. Old shame and wanton destruction of his own morale. The suppurating scar of past abandonment, torn open by her damned words!
The Sword Forms overlapped each other in a dance that stretched the limitations of his bare-chested body. His wheaten mane moved in counterweight to the silver arc of his blade; hair frozen into hundreds of icicle braids. Have I not suffered enough? he thought as the Oneness was torn apart by the fury in his mind. Why is there still bile in my throat? Why do I retch betrayal once more?
His dance stopped, focus quenched by the open floodgates of his heart.
He was poised to strike. Yet his blade would not fall, but he defied admitting it. Nevertheless, it had lost its momentum. His ragged breathing steamed white before his contorted face - a face already made demonic by the Shadow. She lies again, he thought; the left eye wide in fury, She never stop lying!
Where he stood, in the very centre of the Yards, he had grounded the tips and shafts of his practice weapons in the ground frost - arrayed in a wide circle around him. He had gone through them all, expressing all his skill to prolong the return to reality. Beyond the circle of weapons, the night was soundless and dark in answer to his fury. Only one had hearkened its silent shout.
Only one could hear.
Like a wild beast noticing someone entering its cave, Caden turned the grotesquely scarred side of his face towards the intruder. But his bared teeth and pumping lungs did not implicate hostility. Like his white and lidless eye, the green one did not offer any agitation.
He summoned the Oneness, made it aid him to withdraw the fury for her sake, but also hide his other emotions.
"I waited a while, before I came..."
Miahala's voice was strong and clear in the sheer air of a night like this, but it held an edge of softness and concern. The Aes Sedai practically materialized from the blackness of the unlit areas of the Yards, which were many for this hour. A dark green cloak hung over her shoulders and obscured all sight of her body, except for the pale features of her face. The hood was dropped back and since she intended to see no one but Caden, her hair was down, lending more dark cover to her previous concealment.
She strode forward then, stepping lightly and carefully, emotion as much as anything else carrying her forward, although they were also tightly concealed. The light climbed over her then, the closer she got, yet she remained like an island on to herself - close, but distant at the same time.
"I sensed that something was... amiss, and I came to find you," she said, laying her words down quietly and simply. "I was worried, but I found you once you had already begun your work, so I left again. I thought perhaps you would prefer the time alone," she continued, speaking with little emotion although it was raging in the deepest parts of her mind: concern above all, and to one who had lost as much in love and life as she had, it was that sort of protectiveness which was loudest and the most held back.
"My thanks," he rasped to her, "for understanding." The axis, around which his existence pivoted. The anchor for his soul. She knows me. At least she respects me.
Only the breeze was heard for a long time, while he gazed upon her. His heart-rate slowed. His breathing was reined in. The blood coursing through his veins ran slower, but kept its heat. Finally, after finding confidence in her being there, to listen, he looked away. With her there, his raging spirit found its centre.
"She summoned me," he said at last. "Llewellyn."
One brow arched on Mia's face, and to an observer, it would seem ...cool, a curiosity and nothing more. It might even seem that way to Caden, for the sudden intense jealousy that sprung up in her was immediately pushed away and hopefully before he would sense it. He was wrapped in his own feelings enough, and understandably so, to perhaps miss it.
She could hope as much, at least.
"Oh?" she asked, not trusting herself to any other words in that instant, for the thought of Caden's former lover summoning or calling upon him for anything was an emotional surprise to her, though she knew of the woman's return. She sensed the roaring of his anger, though, and she was able to use that to stem her own feelings.
Speaking of it, the ire reminded itself, but he was in control. His words were short, clawing out of his throat, "She summoned me! Like I was some servant. At her bloody beck and call. She looked like a ghost from my past. Pale and harrowed by what she suffered inside the Arches for ten years, she looked like a painful memory. I did not need the reminder. It was the last thing I needed."
"A reminder?" she asked gently, taking a few steps closer but she didn't touch him or intrude too far in to the space that she felt he deserved - even around those one loves, space is sometimes needed when sorting through such things. "A reminder of what?" she clarified her question.
"A reminder," he answered, "of the misery of rejection. No..." he corrected himself, still looking out into the darkness. "A reminder of truth."
His eyes fell to the ground. "She... said, 'I never lied to you about my feelings'. I always believed; made it easier to bear, by telling myself that she never cared for me in the first place. Leanna could not stomach what I had become, after I lost my face. I did not only loose that in the fire, but a part of my soul. What she loved in me, was lost in the flames. A year or two after that, Lyn and I found each other in desperation. We had known each other a long time, but she had shared her life with Urikanu Shin Larithan. I assumed that the hurt of parting with him brought her to cling franticly for new passion. Deep down, when she came into my arms, I thought she was not herself - that she could not truly love a freak like me. I thought she just wanted to. Even though I suspected it, it did not make it easier to have one's fears made true. She left me for the Borderlands, for her family, and the small hope I had for her feelings to be genuine was gutted. I lost faith that day. Because of that wench!"
His eyes lifted from the ground, found hers, and they were almost red with execration. The radiance of that gaze fitted his face; made him look even more the demon he resembled. "Now she wanted... what? She wanted me back? As soon as I was gone, she found her way back into Urikanu's bedchamber again. Who knows which others she has spread her legs for? To think I once loved her. And today! She says she had truly loved me! Only to tear up the stitching and pour acid upon my bare heart! Why is that? I had suppressed her memory!"
The strength of his emotions coursed around and through her without the bond, yet even more so with it. She felt as the rock in the river, standing still and allowing it all to wash around her - she just did her best to not be swept up by it, or by her own. "To have the memory return..." she began, her voice softer than she wished, but it was not to be avoided. "It should not have such power, for she should not have any such power over you any longer. It is not about her any more, but about you and I... is it not?"
There was a long, hurtful pause. "Aye," he said, the fire in his eyes lessening, "You and I. Miahala, I??? have faith again. You gave me a hand and pulled me up from the grave the day we met once more. But you must understand. I am mistrustful. Dare I hope, truly hope, once more?"
Dare... The word echoed through her mind, sliced through it and scraped over her spirit like a knife driven between ribs. Dare? She thought it again and was unable to speak or move for an instant. He asked if he dared... Did they not already dare? She knew that she had. Despite the torments and heart breaks of her past, she had pushed ahead and had dared to wager her heart on the gamble, and now he spoke with uncertainty?
"You..." she began, but had to stop and take in a shaky breath. Emotions threatened to over-whelm. "Are you uncertain in what we feel, have felt?" she asked. The question was painful to utter. "Do you doubt... are you unsure of your love for me?" she asked, almost unable to finish.
"Nay!" he rasped and walked up to her. He dropped his sword upon the ground and grabbed her arms, holding her gaze desperately. "Do not believe that. Never doubt in my love for you. It is only I, who dare not hope fully again, because of her. I do not doubt my own love for you, hence you should not doubt it either. I merely do not want to doubt yours, because of her!"
The thin veil of the Aes Sedai that she had been clinging to, though it had continued to slip slowly from her as the conversation went on, had fallen away completely now and she was left as only a woman. He had seen her as such before, but this time... for probably the first time he ever had seen her as such... she appeared afraid. It wasn't quite fear, but it was close.
Miahala held her gaze on his, although she felt a faint tremor run through her. "I am not Llewellyn, Caden," she said softly, yet firmly too.
"No, you are not her." His words were hard, resolute, yet his fingers lessened around her arms, came to rest upon her shoulders. "I know that. She said her feelings had been genuine, despite everything. She acted as if no time had passed since we last met. The Arches had done something to her mind. She did not relate to time as we do. She looked upon me cravingly the moment she opened her door for me. She had grown cold, dispassionate, but there was fire in her still."
Jealousy crept up again, and in the wake of the wash of emotions, it was able to take a bit more of a hold. She fought it, but the word dare still ricocheted. "Yet you responded to her call, and spoke with her..." she said softly. She did not accuse, because she could not come to believe that, yet...
It was all so harsh and confused in her mind now.
Caden ground his teeth. "You misread me. How can you think I would betray you? She wanted to set the record straight, I imagined. I answered her summons, without thinking. I could have spoken with you first, but I was too infuriated to think. I was in her chambers, yes. But as soon as I learned what she wanted, I raised to my feet and told her my heart belonged to another. You, Miahala."
"To me," Mia repeated in a whisper, working to bring her spirit back under control, even though she could not yet move her body.
"Believe me," he rasped and lifted his hand to her cheek, raised it up, "only you. Only you understand my fear. You know my sadness. You only, can phantom my true despair. You know the nature of the heart inside this hardened body. No one but you can guess what it hides."
A single tear, which was silver and iridescent in the low light, streaked down a cheek that was flushed with heat and violent, crashing emotions. She trembled delicately, but nodded. "In your trust of me," she was able to begin after a moment, "I can know what you feel for me." Her voice was a little stronger, but it was still soft with the earlier weakness of uncertainty, although the lack of sure feeling had parted.
She took in a slow deep breath, forcing tense muscles to relax and let her function again. She raised her hands up to rest them on his chest, over the heart of which he spoke. Mia stared at her hands, finding center and balance again.
"I will not doubt of your feelings for me," she went on, her words gaining strength as she spoke. "Although I will admit that it is painful to hear, I understand what it is like... I've been heart broken and have despaired in ways words cannot describe. Betrayed and abandoned to another mistress, although she was nations and she bore death..." She swallowed hard. "I understand that you fear, but I will endeavor to prove through my understanding and through my actions that I tell you wholly and truly that when I say I love you, I mean it."
Finally, she lifted blue-green eyes - still slightly wide and covered in the sheen of threatening tears - up to his gaze once more. Without even trying to do so, or even wanting to, the entirety of her heart shone through in the moment of unguarded feeling.
"Miahala," he grated with a clenched throat. He shook his head, the icicle braids that his hair had become swaying across his back. With her vulnerability plain in her unguarded look, he cursed himself for hurting her. In berating the past, he had marred the present. Yet he knew, acutely, that what had been said needed to be said. He could not hide his emotions for Miahala, even if he had wanted to. The truth was never the easiest way - but it was the rightful one.
"My love," he continued, raising a hand to her cheek to brush the tear away. "You need to know that... you... have never given me reason to question your feelings for me. You have never failed me in that way. That is not a small accomplishment on your part. Because of what has happened to me - both the maiming of my face and my heart - I'm a wary creature when it comes to honesty. Because of what I look like, and because of having my emotions betrayed twice, I am not late with doubting sincere affection.
"I do not swallow praise. I hate pity. I love little in life. Irrevocably, I am a hard man to love, and I understand that. And in knowing, I discredit how anyone can. Yet you, you have never given me reason to doubt. Because of what happened today, it was a trial, but in the end - I still do not doubt you."
A very faint smile ghosted over her features. "I am glad of that," she whispered. "As much as you, I am not an easy person to love... Perhaps that is one of the reasons that it has come easier for us to love one another - a reversal of why others could not love us as well as we do each other," she mused quietly.
She fell silent then, for a time. "To consider... loathe am I to give her any credit... if Llewellyn spoke the truth, and not simply what she believed as the truth, then you were not, in the end, betrayed," she commented.
"True," he replied, "if Llewellyn spoke the truth when she said her feelings had been earnest, there is no reason for me to mistrust. However, I cannot link her claim to her past actions. I'm a martial man, and action speaks loudest in my remaining ear."
"I feel the same," Mia said ruefully. "But, I felt that perhaps the point should be made." Turning her gaze away from him, she looked around the chilly yards, then back at Caden with a faint smile. "Aren't you cold?" she asked with vague amusement in her voice. "If you are finished here, perhaps we should vacate the yard."
"Aye," he said, and looked out into the cold night, "I'm finished here. And no, I am not freezing. But even though Gaidin do not understand cold as other men do, we still feel it." Despite his admission, there were no goose bumps on his upper body and his hands did not shake. Not even his deep voice quavered when he spoke. "Your touch... warms me sufficiently. I need only return the practice weapons I borrowed from the Armoury, then we can withdraw."
He stepped away from her, feeling her warm hands leave his chest, and began to collect the weapons that made the circle around them. He picked up his coat and shirt too - garments that were barely serviceable in their frozen state. Instead of suffering their cold touch upon his skin, he used them to wrap the weapons up in two thick bundles. With one in each hand, he looked towards the middle of the erased circle, and saw his heron-marked long sabre lying next to Miahala. He stopped, looked upon the heavy bundles in his calloused hands and grunted once through his teeth. "My love, could you lend me a hand?"
The corners of her mouth curved upwards in the first true amusement of the night as she bent to take the weapon. "It's nice to know a man who would ask," she commented, some joviality at last returning to her eyes, but it was warm with affection.
Approaching the Armoury, Caden saw the fires he had lit inside flicker in the round glass window above the double doors. With a deft kick, he opened them and walked inside - the warm air meeting him like the breath of a furnace. He looked once over his shoulder to make certain Miahala was following before he dropped the heavy bundles upon a heavy oaken workbench. There were no people inside the Armoury at this hour, so he would have to return the weapons into their proper stands by himself, just as he had when he picked them out.
He walked around the fire-lit working area, replacing things where they belonged. He shut the cold of the night out, and the ice in his hair and breeches quickly melted in the stuffy air, making water run down his face and body. Glancing towards Miahala, he chortled lightly in amusement. "The last time I was here with you, it must have been twenty years ago, remember?"
Miahala was no stranger to the Armoury and assisted in the returning of the weapons to their place. "How could I forget?" she asked, her voice was colored by memory and emotion. "It seems like it was yesterday, and yet it was an entire lifetime ago as well." She paused after setting one away, frowning thoughtfully. "Isn't it strange how that works..." she commented softly.
"I suppose it's because it's a cherished memory," replied Caden and climbed on top of a sooty workbench. He reached up the wall to place an ashandarei upon a row of nails jutting from the grimy wall. He jumped down again and wiped his brow, the heat inside making him sweat again. "Or at least a memory that means a lot to us. We do not remember every day activities, but the rare ones stand out - making us believe that we lived them more recently than we actually were. Don't you think?"
"Indeed," she said breathily, continuing with what she was doing.
Although Mia was somewhat returning to her 'usual' self, there was still a faint air of vulnerability... She had always been a brash and confident girl, but in her youth she had moments of deep shyness and insecurity. In this instant, standing in the Armoury with Caden, she felt like that again... It had been a long time since she'd felt it and she wasn't entirely sure what to do with it.
"I... remember finding you, and asking to speak with you..." she said, reflecting through that night, so many years ago. "I did not pity you then, but I did want you to know that I understood. Sometimes those scars that are not visible are as harsh as those that are." She stepped back and brushed hair back from her face. "I still have them all... even those on the spirit. I was chasing ghosts, chasing my own betrayals and those who betrayed me by rushing to their graves without consideration for me."
Her eyes were distant and she was tied to another place in her mind, suddenly pulled away from everything as she stared blankly at the wall. "It takes a lot to get past such things in one's heart..."
"It does," said Caden as he picked up his wet longsabre and placed it on a bench. The ice had quickly melted and he wanted to wipe it off and put on a protective layer of oil, to prevent rust, before leaving. The glow from the fires in the Armoury made the steel look like liquid flames. "If one ever will. Year by year, you learn to live with the past, forging your soul to survive a second calamity."
He looked over his shoulder towards Miahala's standing form. Noticing though his remaining eye and his bond that she suffered bitter memories, he turned towards her - leaning back with his hands upon the grimy bench.
"You are a hard woman, Mia. You will survive should anything happen again. You have been through enough to see the end of days," he rasped, water dripping from his hair. "Your fortitude has set an example for me. You did so that night. By showing me that others can learn to live after being maimed, in heart or body, I learned the cowardice of surrendering to the shame and the heart-ache."
Mia turned her head slightly, glancing at him. Her eyes were haunted. "Yes, I suppose I would survive anything... seeing as how there would be no other choice, but... if anything should happen. If something should happen to you, I do not know if life would remain worth living - to lose three bonds and lovers... Could my heart truly withstand that? Could my mind?"
Seeing her distress so plain in her eyes, Caden swallowed. He looked down upon the rough floor and contemplated an answer. He chose his words carefully. "The battle would still be fought - our battle. If you would have the heart to carry on your duty, you should do so, because that is what I would have wanted. I'm sure the... others would have agreed with me. If I were to fail you, I would rather see you take up my sword and honour my memory by completing what we have undertaken."
Trembling, she nodded slowly. "To continue to live is to honor one's memory," she whispered. "Still..."
"You can't know, not even guess at how you would handle it," he said firmly to add his resolve to hers, "We cannot truly steel ourselves for such an event until it happens. You might be the one who dies, and I know my life is forfeit the second it happens, both emotionally and also because of the nature of the Bond. Whenever I think about that, I force myself to look upon the present - because there is no reason to contemplate death. When it happens, it happens. You, at least, have the choice of continuing your life. Keep your mind off the eventuality. That is the easiest and most comfortable way to handle it." Looking straight at her, there was a long pause as he waited for her to accept the words. Yet when she spoke, it was about something related, but entirely else.
"I only ask... do not leave me behind," she said softly, seriously. "If you go to fight, take me with you. I will not be left behind again. The bond, this bond, ours... both of them... mean more than that. Either we both survive it, or we both don't. That is all I ask."
Mia had been left behind far too many times before. Truly, that was probably what she could bear least of all.
She spoke of his duties in Arafel, and the journey he had taken there fifteen years past. "Never," he said steadily, "I need not return without you now. The House is in order. Things are not like before; in regard to my birthright, my duties in the Yard, or us. Especially between us. Miahala... I love you. More than duties and more than the battle against the Shadow."
Feeling stronger now, she smiled faintly and nodded. "Thank you. It is good to hear the words," she said.
Nodding, Caden saw that she had returned to herself. "You need not worry. I will be by your side." He picked up the sabre behind him and began to dry off the water with a white cloth.
The weapons were put away, but there was reason to stay. Mia wandered a little, taking in the familiar warmth. Finally, she recognized the heat of the room. It was a feeling that had been lost on her in the midst of her emotions and thoughts. Reaching up, she unlaced her cloak and slipped it from her shoulders, draping it over her arm and walking a few more steps, looking over the weapons.
Watching her as he worked, Caden almost nicked his thumb. Miahala was always a powerful distraction, yet pleasantly so. Especially when the removal of clothing was involved. He thought she was oblivious to the effect she had on him, but knew it could not be so since she could practically read his mind. He did not look away in embarrassment though, since they were more than familiar with one another. They had left shyness in their wake, but not the reason for feeling it. Caden's eye remained upon her, intently, and accompanied it with a small curve of his unburned lips.
Sensing the attention, both as an Aes Sedai keyed in to her surrounding, particularly a Green, and as his Aes Sedai, yet also as a woman, she glanced back over her shoulder at him with a faint smile curving her mouth. "Somehow I sense you are watching me more than your work," she said quietly.
"How could I not?" Not leaving her with his seeing eye, he switched to an oil-cloth and continued to stroke the dried blade in his strong hands. The fires danced in his green iris. "You are easy on the eye," he punned lightly.
"You're the only man alive who could say that and live," she teased gently, feeling more of herself returning to her spirit. She turned, arms folded casually across her chest. She tilted her head. "Besides, talk of the earlier recollection doesn't hurt..."
"The earlier recollection?" he asked, raising his remaining eyebrow.
The smile increased. "As I recall, you feared that night that I intended to seduce you..." she said, amused.
"Ah," he chuckled, "Aye, I did, when you began to take off your dress in front of me inside your chambers. Which man would not believe that? But I assure you, 'fear' is not the emotion they would feel. Shock? Perhaps. Fear? No. Excitement? Certainly."
Her head remained tilted and her lips still curved in a slight smile, although the expression grew rueful. "Excitement?" she asked lightly. "We barely knew one another. I would hardly think that a sight for excitement with a woman you do not know well."
"Oh, hush..." he rasped and finished putting an oil-coating on his sabre with the cloth, "Everything suits beauty. It's true that my initial reaction to seeing them was shock. I wanted to bring justice to the one who had violated you like that. But I was never repulsed by them for a moment. The scars on your ravishing form rather enhances your exquisiteness than disfigure it. When you danced for me in Saldaea, you really displayed your scars to your advantage - no one could look more exotic than you, dancing like that."
He raised his left hand and covered the unburned side of his face - leaving only the scarred side visible in the firelight. "In my case, you have made me understand that nothing unbecomes the ugly. You even made me forget to wear my mask after you bonded me the second time." He dropped his hand again and smiled faintly. "So why, even though you consider your scars unfortunate and shameful, would your case be any different?"
Lowering her face, she smiled a little and shook her head. "One's perception of self differs from other's perceptions..." She lifted her eyes to his, and shrugged her shoulders a little. "I did not have someone who so well understood it, or could so well state what you understand and can say about it." Seth did not turn away, but he did not understand. She kept her back hidden from him most the time. "It was different then..."
"I tell you what," he rasped and placed his sword on the bench he was leaning against. He folded his arms across his wet chest. His green eye glimmered in cadence with his white one. "Show them to me again, like you did back before. Yes, I have seen them countless times now, but let us replicate the scene. This time, I can react with measure - see them for what they are. This time, I will react accordingly to what I felt... underneath the current of vengefulness."
Blue-green eyes widened slightly, but she did not balk. She was just surprised. A part of her mind spoke to the fact that they were standing in the middle of the Armoury, but it was the middle of the night by now.
"All right," she finally said.
Slowly, she turned around. The dress she had worn that first night had been specially chosen for the fact that it laced up the back, but this one did not. Her fingers trembled slightly for reasons she did not quite understand as she unbuttoned the front of her dress and shift, letting them both slide off her arms and drop to her waist, hanging loosely on her hips. Reaching up, she pulled long loose hair over her shoulder, glancing back at him.
Caden pushed away from the bench and walked up behind her. His eyes never left her figure as he crossed the small distance to her. He stepped up to her and crouched down. His hands came to rest upon her hips and he placed his hot lips against the small of her back. Then he kissed a hot trail along her spine - gradually making his way up her scars. When his lips reached her neck, his hands ran around her abdomen. "You like this better than my last reaction?"
"Indeed," she breathed, a delicate tremble rushing through her. "Your last reaction was not wanting, my love... but yes, this one is better." Her lips curved upwards in a smile as she turned around in his arms to face him, leaning her face against his as his head remained bent towards her neck. "Much better..." she whispered.
"Have faith then," he murmured against her skin, "for we make each other whole again." Urgency made their lips come together, hungrily. He lifted her up as if she was no heavier than a feather and carried her backwards. Everything in the Armoury was covered in soot and smeared with grease, but they could not care less. He put her down on a bench, reached behind her to sweep it clear from tools and lowered her down - mismatched eyes locked with hers.
The doors remained closed, privacy preserved, which remained a fortunate thing. Little did either of them know what significance that night held.
