Bending the Air to Her Will (OP Training for Mordre)

[U4ea]

Mordre stared into the fire in Shri's little workroom, settled onto her knees and numbly watching the flames dance. Tears were pointless, so she didn't shed them. The screaming rage she'd felt had fled hours ago, leaving only the misery behind. What's worse is that she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the wood piled in the bottom of the grate, shrinking a little at a time as the flames devoured it, leaving only white ash behind. The bark had burned away long ago and the flames were happily dancing over the soft inner wood of the logs, the wood curling and glowing in the heat of the flames. 

 

"How long have you been here?" Shri asked quietly, sinking to her knees next to Mordre. 

 

Mordre didn't blink or flinch. Surprise seemed to be burned out of her, just like the wood before her. "I do not know," she answered, her voice flat. "I came here after..." 

 

Shri nodded, but Mordre didn't see it. The log on the top burned through the middle and snapped in half, collapsing in a hiss of broken coals and ashes. The flames danced higher, a victory dance, it seemed, for being stronger than the wood. Mordre's eyes narrowed, her gaze shifting to the flames. She hated the power the flames had over the wood. There was no defense for the wood, no way for the log to fight back. It just laid there and let the macabre dance continue until it was gone, bend, broken, and burned away at the will of the flames. The anger she'd thought had burned away surged back into her thoughts and the dancing flames stopped moving. She pictured it in her head, willing the flames to stop their horrifying torture of the helpless logs. They shrank, bending in on themselves as if being gutted and Mordre heard the blood roaring in her ears. 

 

"Mordre, stop," Shri ordered. Mordre didn't stop, she couldn't. She was trapped by her need to strike at something so callously wiping away the life of another thing when she had the power to stop it. The flames reacted to her will, so this... THIS, she had power over. "Mordre, I said stop!" 

 

The flames withered and an unseen breeze blew out the last visage of light, leaving them with a grate of cooling logs. The cool air began seeping into Mordre's body, but she took it all in. It was her punishment for not being able to control the things she'd been trained to do. 

 

"All the herbs in the world could not have saved her, Mordre," Shri said softly, laying her hand on Mordre's shoulder. "The wound had festered too long. The infection had spread..."

 

"I should've known she needed help days ago, she said she wasn't feeling well," Mordre's eyes were unfocused now, staring at the dark fire pit. "I should've seen through her protests and forced her..."

 

"You cannot force anyone to take care of themselves, Mordre," Shri said sharply. "She was your sister. The same blood flows through your veins, the same stubborn pride in every drop. Were you in her place, would you have done anything differently?" 

 

"I..." Mordre opened her mouth, but her voice broke. She shook her head, dropping it into her hands as the sorrow hit her full force. "No, I wouldn't have been any different. I wouldn't have told anyone that anything was wrong, simply to avoid having to deal with it."

 

"And you dishonor her by expecting anything less of her," Shri admonished softly. "You did everything you could, everything I've trained you to do. You have mastered these herbs, Mordre." 

 

Mordre closed her eyes tighter, wishing Shri would stop talking, but not bold enough to say it. "Do you realize what you just did? Look at the fire place, Mordre. You put the flames out without touching them. No water, no air. It had plenty of fuel, but you, your anger and your rage... you did that." 

 

Mordre looked up, expecting to see the flames dancing before her and realizing that they were not. She gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth. "You told me to stop!" 

 

"Had I truly wanted you to stop, believe me, I would've stopped you," she smiled a bit and focused her attention on the logs. A few seconds later, the light began dancing in the fireplace again, merrily dancing away on the logs once more. "For now, we mourn, Mordre. Go home to your family and take comfort in them. Be very cautious with this knowledge and do not try anything without me. When you return, we will begin your training to use this gift you've been given."

 

Mordre looked at her, tears spilling from her eyes. "As you say, Wise One," she said softly, then rose to her feet slowly. She didn't pack anything and didn't hurry to her family's roof, either. Instead, she took the long way, wandering through streets and pathways without acknowledging anyone who looked her way. Memories of her sister training with the Maidens, her jealousy at not being able to, her sister's admonition about the gift she'd been given, the good she could do their clan and their family, the amazing things she would learn training to be a Wise One. 

 

"What's more," Ryn had laughed. "You can fix me up when I drag my half-dead body home after raiding!" 

 

Mordre stopped in front of the practice yard and collapsed to her knees, the tears not stopping. "I could not fix you up this time, Ryn," she whispered. "Your stubbornness was the death of you, just as mother always said it would be. Why could you not tell me before it was too late for me to help you?" She sobbed and dug her fingers into the ground, clutching the crumbling surface of the hard packed dirt. "Would living have been so bad?" 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc was shining with sweat, he had been hard at work attempting to learn a new combat technique that used the open hand and the opponent's aggression against them, he suspected that it would come in handy for the challenge that lay ahead of him. He worked through the forms under the watchful eye of his teacher, whom he could have sworn was taller the day before. Also, had his mustache grown longer? He worked the steps, the intricate, small, delicate motions of hand, body, and feet that would later turn sharp and hard, and throw warriors about with ease. He'd been shown how effective this technique was in his own hubris, some days ago. He kept his mind focused, right up until she crossed his vision, from that point on his senses attuned to her, and picked up that something was very, very wrong. 

 

Finally, with a sound of disgust, he was dismissed for the day with the admonition to 'get the fool girl out of your head before you return' and he aimed to do just that, just not in the way his teacher had intended. He picked up his towel and dried himself before sliding his shirt on over his chest, leaving is unwrapped so it hung more like a jacket. He eased his way to Mordre, "Living is never bad, unless it is in dishonor," he said softly from behind her, realizing she must really have been out of sorts to let him get so close without her noticing. 

[U4ea]

Mordre lifted her eyes to meet Madoc's, shaking her head. "I would take the dishonor upon myself, if it only left my sister to carry her spear again," she said, sobbing. "It should've been me carrying that spear, Madoc. It should've been me limping home from that raid." It should've been me dying in my family's arms, she finished in her head. "But it wasn't. I am to wear skirts and train with plants. She was to pick up the spear and dance with the Dogs. And even then, she couldn't let me be! She's gone, Madoc. Ryn let a scratch fell her and would not let me do a thing to help her!" 

 

She threw the dirt clenched in her fist. "Where is the honor in that?" 

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc tilted his head down, finding those eyes and locking his to them. Too many warriors died from stubbornness in the face of danger, you would think a people raised in the Threefold Land would know better than to tempt fate in such ways.  He knew what he was about to say was going to be difficult, "There is none, Mordre. Stubbornness is an asset in some cases, a detriment in others, wisdom comes in knowing when it is appropriate and when it is not. You serve the Aiel, in the way that is best for the people. Just as I do. Just as Ryn did. I am sorry for her passing, especially from something so easily prevented. But the fault lies not with you, but with Ryn. You cannot force another to let them care for you, as I believe you, yourself told me." He lay a hand on her shoulder, wanting to do more, but not feeling it was the right time yet. 

[U4ea]

Mordre looked into his eyes, hearing the confirmation of her worst thoughts rolling from his lips. She deflated, all of the anger and rage disapating and leaving only numbness, again. "Why, Madoc? Why didn't she say anything? Why didn't she speak up while I could help? Was it her wish to leave?" 

 

She shook her head, knowing there was no way he could have the answers to those questions. The only person who did was long past being able to answer them. "I killed the fire," she said quietly. "I smothered it with my mind." She looked away and then down at her now dirty hands. "For all of my fighting, Madoc, they made the right decision. Do you know how hard that is for me to accept? All this time I've been angry, carrying this disgust at my future being snatched away from me like it was unimportant with me. I've used it as a shield to avoid giving in to this new future they've set me on. And now?" 

 

She blinked slowly and looked back up at him. "I focused on killing the fire in the fireplace and it died."

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc looked at her, sympathy in his eyes, knowing he couldn't answer the stream of questions and simply wanting to provide comfort to Mordre. Finally she got to something there was an answer for,  "You are a Wise One, or will be soon." he responded matter-of-factly, as if these were just things Wise One's did. "And they are Wise One's, there is a reason they are called such. Rarely do they fail the people, and I do not expect you will fail the people either."

[U4ea]

"I wish I could be so certain," she said. "I failed Ryn. How can you be so sure I will not fail others. Fail you?" 

 

Her voice cracked there on the end and she looked away. Failing Madoc would be worse than failing Ryn. She couldn't put her finger on why, but it was there, nonetheless. "Shri is pushing me harder than I've ever seen her push anyone, but I am not sure I am up to this. Dancing the spears was always so much easier, more natural. Now, I'm in a world of strange power and no spears and I feel like I'm wading hip deep through a sandpit!" And her feelings for this man weren't making it any easier to figure out, for they were as muddled as anything else. 

[_Kynwric_]

"Ryn failed Ryn, you had nothing to do with it. Not unless your smothering flames with your mind let's you read the minds of others?" Madoc was fairly certain she couldn't do that, he certainly hoped she couldn't do that otherwise he would be having to think of silly things the entire time he was around her... and he would have to apologize, to her... what if they all can read minds?

 

"You act as if you've done trained at this your whole life, like you have with spears. Have you never been challenged to learn a skill before? Shri pushes you to be your best, she obviously feels you have more in you. I think you ave more in you than you've shown."

[U4ea]

Mordre looked away and sighed deeply. "Perhaps. Shri certainly seems to think so, and I can not argue after this afternoon." 

 

She was quiet for a few moments. "It it just not what I imagined my life to be. Nothing is going the way I thought it would and, with Ryn gone, it feels even more unstable." She blinked hard and looked around. "Are you not supposed to be training, Madoc?"

[_Kynwric_]

"I am always training." Madoc said with a hint of a smile, "it just may not be obvious what I am training for." He gestured for her to walk with him, as having this conversation in front of the training ring was perhaps not the best idea. "Shri has been a Wise One for many years, she has trained may Wise One's, no? Perhaps you should trust she knows what she is doing? Knows the best way to coax from you what she is looking for? Life is not meant to be easy, to be what is expected, if it were we would not be here."

[U4ea]

She reluctantly walked with him, realizing he was about the only person she could talk to, anymore. Everyone else took her complaints or excitement as disrespect to the Wise Ones. Only Madoc listened and supported her complaints. He always justified them, later, but the fact that he accepted them and supported them first made the acceptance on her part much easier to handle later down the road.  "I do not doubt Shri's methods," she said softly. "Part of me was still denying that she made the right choice. Ryn's death dealt a blow to my confidence, made me question whether she made the right choice, as well. That fire was the end, Madoc. It was the end of my fighting what is coming. It is the end of my denying her choice and denying my place in our clan. All of my dreams are gone, have been much longer than I cared to admit, but gone, now, for sure. Did I doubt her wisdom?" 

 

Mordre sighed and looked down at the path they followed. "I do not doubt her wisdom, I doubt her belief in me being able to do this thing. Wise Ones are respected, revered. They alone confront a clan chief and set him straight. I have never considered myself to be in a position for that, Madoc. There is much responsibility heaped upon a Wise One's shoulders. I know, now, that it is my path, and that I must dedicate myself to holding up those responsbilities." She looked back up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "There is much to mourn today, my friend." 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

"There is nothing to mourn, none of you is dead, none of you is dying." He put an arm around her, tucking her in under his shoulder as he noticed the tears welling in her eyes. "You will be a Wise One, it is a path you have been on for many turnings, and you have heard Wise Ones and Clan Chiefs speak, it sometimes respect, and rarely reverence."

 

"Yes, I know, you need to mourn Ryn, as do all who knew her, but that is not what you were referencing and I know it." He guided her off the main street and down a side street to a small courtyard where they'd have more privacy and once there he turned the half hug into a full one, wrapping both arms around her. "Your dreams are changing, just as we all change, much as they changed from the time you were in pigtails to when you first took up a spear. All things change Mordre, it isn't something to mourn."

[U4ea]

Mordre found herself wrapped in his arms before she'd realized he'd stopped moving. All things change, Mordre," his voice rang in her ears and she blinked fast, trying to catch up with everything that was changing today. Ryn gone, ability awoken, and now... she felt somewhat at peace in Madoc's arms. The sadness was still there, but the overwhelming energy that felt like it would break her into a thousand pieces was gone, leaving only calm in its wake. This day was turning in a strange direction very quickly. "I mourn the girl I was this morning," she said quietly, snuggled against his chest. She let her arms return his embrace, here out of sight of the other Aiel. "She is gone, Madoc. I do not know who took her place, but she is truly gone, now." 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc held her there, "This woman before me, who is strong, willful, and introspective," he replied. "The girl has grown, you should miss her, but not too much. I am fond of the woman, and of course, I always thought the girl a bit of a brat." He said with a smile as he pulled back slightly to smile down at her. 

[U4ea]

Mordre shook her head up at him. "Fond of a woman who has just shown herself? How is that even possible? And I've never been a brat, either." 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc chuckled a little, "You've been showing yourself for some time, you just haven't seen it... and yes, yes you were."

[U4ea]

Mordre laid her head on his chest and sighed, knowing he was trying pull her out of her mood and unwilling to let him. "What will become of us, Madoc? You, who is following the path he set as a child and I, who is on a completely different path? There is a long road between here and our goals, even the old ones. What are we between now and then?" 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

What are we? "We are whatever we decide to be, Mordre. My path is mine, and has room for you to walk it with me, Your path is yours, and hopefully still has room for me on it with you. Your goals, my goals, they can all be our goals, if we allow it. Between now and then, we are us."

[U4ea]

Mordre thought about that for a while, not saying anything and just taking comfort in his embrace. They worked well, tended to think alike, and she, at least, found respite in his presence. Perhaps their paths weren't all that different. "How do I fit into your path, Madoc?" she asked quietly. "You, who are destined for great things. Is that our tale? To share a roof?" It wasn't a horrible destiny, looking at it from the new eyes today had forced her to see through. Yesterday, she'd have scoffed at the idea. So much had changed since the sun rose.

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

"Me? Destined for great things? You've been in the oosquai again, haven't you?" Madoc said with a laugh, "I'm no Wise One, nor Clan Chief, to have been to Rhuidean and know the future. But yes, I could see us sharing a roof together. There could certainly be worse fates than that."

[U4ea]

Mordre shook her head against his chest, her lips twisting into a smile. He'd never see that he carried his future on his shoulders like a cloak. She didn't need to go to Rhuidean again to see that and the way others moved around him, she knew she was not alone. She decided to let that go, rather than give him a big head. Stone Dogs were bad enough without boosting their egos any higher. "Am I to be your first wife, then?" She laughed, shaking her head, again. "You believe you could handle me that long?"

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

"First? That is awfully presumptuous, to think I'd be able to handle more than one wife at a time. As for handling you, no, I have no illusions that I will be able to 'handle' you, merely enjoy our time together." He loosened his grip around her, feeling the depressed mood fading. "Think you can be content married to a warrior and not some Clan Chief or Society Leader? Or, are you going to hold out for the Car'a'carn?"

[U4ea]

Mordre laughed at that, shaking her head. "Provided he is a match for me, I doubt I will care much what his position is. The Car'a'carn would be far too busy for one such as I. I require far too much attention," she tilted her head at him. "Do you truly believe that a life of a simple warrior is all you have before you?"

[_Kynwric_]

"Then the question is Mordre, am I a match for you?" He brushed off the question, "I do not know what lies before me, I know what I want, I know what I would do, but I do not know where my feet will take me." 

[U4ea]

Mordre tilted her head curiously, considering him.  "No one really knows what they will do until they are forced to do it, so it only makes sense to focus on what you want and put your feet on the path to do that. Sometimes the path is determined for you and that is not easy to accept. I understand that. I will accept it, forced though it may be. What of you, though? What is it you want, Madoc?"