[pfsb] investigations and explorations

[blue_ajah]

Two days after Moiraine brought Wei Wuxian's talismans back to Twin Peaks, after she has taken the time necessary to review all of her notes as well as the histories she has been collecting, she calls Dale Cooper, who is still in Olympia, now, rather than Seattle.

All things considered, the conversation could have gone much, much worse.

She is well aware that they are going to have a much longer discussion after he returns in a few weeks, but he had agreed not to ask her to wait. She, in turn, had agreed, as before, not to go to Glastonbury Grove alone, or at night. She also agrees not to approach the pool closer than necessary to place the talismans, or to test it with her own weaving - not at present, anyway.

Hawk had been her next call.

A few days later, after he has had time to consider and to consult with the Bookhouse Boys, Hawk knocks on her apartment door and agrees to her request.

* * * * * * *
When Moiraine returns to Milliways, she leaves a sealed note with Bar, addressed to Wei Wuxian.

Master Wei--

I made the trial of your talismans according to your instructions. When I activated the one at the northernmost point, glowing red energy swept inward from the circle in a wave focused on the pool at its center.

The pool absorbed it all. It vanished into the depths without a ripple, and without a trace.

Nothing else has happened. Yet.

--Moiraine Sedai

That task completed, she settles at her preferred table with tea and begins sketching something in a notebook.

Comments

[mm_lorna]

"Oh!" says Gideon, and relaxes. "Okay, yeah. Harrow told me about you."

There's something of the Fifth in the way Moiraine Sedai pours the tea and in her perfect courtesy, but that just makes Gideon think of Marcus and Abigail and that just makes her sad.

"Yeah," she says, pushing the thought away and taking the proffered tea. "Pretty new."

She's never had to introduce herself before. Everyone on the Ninth already knew her, and Teacher did it for her at Canaan House. It's probably the polite thing to do, though, right? "Gideon Nav."

[blue_ajah]

"I am pleased to meet you," the Aes Sedai says. "Be welcome here."

"I have grown to regard the Lady Ninth - Harrow - as something in the nature of a colleague, as it happens, although I am not a necromancer."

[mm_lorna]

"Yeah," says Gideon, conversationally, sipping at her tea. It's good, not that she's much of a tea connoisseur.

"She said you were a thalergenic adept. That must have blow her mind, huh?"

[blue_ajah]

Moiraine considers her for a moment, and the corners of her mouth turn upward in a very slight smile.

"This place is often filled with surprises."

She takes a sip of her own tea, and adds,

"I understand that you are a cavalier? Do you yourself wield any sort of -- call it an adept's practice?"

[mm_lorna]

"Fuck no!" says Gideon, with conviction.

She hits things with swords. Sometimes she punches them, depending on what the situation calls for.

"Cavs aren't necromancers," she explains. "They're –" she catches herself, "we're, trained to fight. With the rapier," she amends, as if reminding herself, which is precisely what she's doing. "We're there to protect our adept."

Because the adepts in question are usually skinny nerds without even the barest hint of muscle mass.

[blue_ajah]

"Not unlike a Warder," she observes. "I thought that might be the case."

She does not appear to have noticed Gideon's slip of the tongue.

[mm_lorna]

She's very serene. Gideon, raised in the endless implacable gloom of Drearburh, finds it both familiar and a little disconcerting. By now Harrow would have already hissed at her to be quiet multiple times.

"Yeah?" She'd taken too large a gulp of tea, and now her tongue and throat sting and her eyes are watering behind her sunglasses. "Why, who are they?"

[blue_ajah]

"I am Aes Sedai," Moiraine tells her.

"In the world where I was born, Aes Sedai - which you might consider a society, of sorts, of thalergenic adepts - will often bond Warders to work with them in a manner similar to that which it appears exists between a cavalier and a necromancer."

[mm_lorna]

"Yeah?" she says again, but with more enthusiasm. "They get to fight, these Warders?"

Gideon is thrumming for a fight. She'd been ready – she would have beaten Naberius Tern at his own stupid precision dueling – except he'd swanned off and left her trembling with adrenaline and brimming anger. All the running and press-ups in the world can't take the place of the brawl she'd wanted to have.

"Do they get a choice? About getting...bonded?"

[blue_ajah]

"They do," she affirms. "Frequently. It is an essential part of their training. My own Warder fought by my side for more than twenty years."

"It is traditional for the choice to be offered."

It is not, however, always the case.

[mm_lorna]

The idea of spending even one year as Harrow's cavalier is horrifying enough; the thought of two decades too frightening to contemplate.

The fighting, though – that sounds pretty good.

Some of her grease paint is flaking off by her temple; she resists the urge to scratch at it. "Huh," she says, eloquently. She doesn't know what Harrow has told this...ally, and she's not sure if there's anything she should steer clear of mentioning.

But Harrow said she could talk, so: "Sounds like the Fourth. They're trained to go on the front lines."

And, oddly, the Sixth. She's got to fight Camilla Hect, just to see what it's like.

She's thinking of the Eighth siphoning his big battery of a cav and of Ortus, trained to do nothing more than to carry as much osseous materal as possible when her mouth twists. "Not all of the Houses do that."

[blue_ajah]

"The Fourth," she murmurs. "The Sword of the Emperor, and his Hope; those are the correct titles, if my recollection is accurate?"

"I understand that there are differences in the traditions of the Houses. What of your own training?"

[mm_lorna]

This time the face Gideon makes can be clearly seen even through her paint. "Sure," she says, shrugging.

Moiraine really has been talking to Harrow. Only a Black Vestal would bother being that pretentious in a place where no one has heard of the Emperor, let alone his Houses. "I mean, the Fourth and his cav are just a pair of dumb kids. She's maybe less of a Sword and more of a letter opener."

But thinking of the Fourth makes her think of the Fifth, and that just makes her kind of sad, so she's a little off her guard when Moiraine's second question comes. "Mine?"

She scrambles, wondering what – how much – Harrow has told this woman. "I've been training since they could put a sword in my hand," she hedges, finally.

Well, it's true.

[blue_ajah]

She arches an eyebrow at the face Gideon makes.

"Is it that they are young, or unskilled, that you object to?"

[mm_lorna]

Gideon huffs out a huge breath and scrubs at her mop of ginger hair.

"Neither," she offers. "But they shouldn't –

"They shouldn't be there," she finishes, miserably. "They're kids! They should, I don't know – be worrying about getting zits, not about avenging the Fifth."

[blue_ajah]

"The Wheel weaves," Moiraine murmurs.

And this particular weaving, she knows, may be painful indeed, although she does not say so.

[mm_lorna]

"Huh?" says Gideon.

Apparently all of the Ninth's eloquence has been concentrated in the one other representative of their generation.

[blue_ajah]

"It is a saying from the world where I was born," Moiraine tells her.

"The Wheel weaves, and all things are part of the Pattern. You might think of it as the workings of destiny; many do."

Given what Harrow has told her before about Gideon Nav's background, destiny seems an appropriate thing for the young cavalier to be cognizant of.

[mm_lorna]

"Oh," she says, losing interest. "That sounds like the kind of thing Nonagesimus would be into."

For Gideon's part, she prefers to grip hold of the workings of Fate and punch Destiny in the face – especially when it comes to endangering two stupid kids. Whatever the mysterious plans at hand, she's reasonably sure there's usually someone she can hit with a sword.

"The Fourth are fodder for the front lines. Everyone knows they tend to die young." Her expression grows fierce underneath her paint, and her hand clenches on the tabletop.

"But it shouldn't be now."

[blue_ajah]

"Perhaps it will not, then," she says, watching Gideon's hand tighten, observing her determination. "I shall hope, for your sake."

A single beat of silence.

"But know this, Gideon Nav: not all fates can be avoided."

[mm_lorna]

"Is this how you talk to Harrow?"

Gideon's hand hasn't relaxed, and neither have her shoulders. "She's all black and white like that, too."

Gideon Nav has spent her entire life trying to change what everyone told her was her fate. And look: she's off the Ninth. Maybe changing destiny came by bargaining with the Devil; maybe it's landed her in a place so bad even the creaky old halls of Drearburh starts to look cheerful.

But she did it. And soon she'll be on her way to the Cohort, finally free.

[blue_ajah]

"In some ways it is how I talk to everyone."

Her tone is very wry, all of a sudden.

"I am bound by oath to speak no word that is not true."

[mm_lorna]

"That seems like it would be a huge pain in the ass," says Gideon the Ninth, who has never been subtle about a damn thing in her entire life and who has, frequently, been a huge pain in the ass of whoever she happens to be around.

[blue_ajah]

Amusement flickers in the dark eyes, despite the fact that her serene manner does not otherwise alter.

"On occasion, it might be considered so."

[we_do_bones]

So she's not a complete prig in the style of Silas Oktakiseron – though honestly, who is. Gideon relaxes slightly.

It does sound like a pain in the ass. It also sounds like something Gideon can use, right now, to get more information than Harrow has deigned to offer. "So what has Harrow told you?"