Take Three

[Wayfarer]

Smiling as he approached the circle, the formula of the blademasters was familiar to him as they formed a circle about him. All of them faces that he knew, all of them watching him with expressions ranging from curious to resigned. The latter due to his previous losses, the former due to his choice of attire. Shrouded in a cloak that was a bit too big for him, not even his feet were visible let alone his face that was cowled and hidden by the half light. Those that were resigned simply shrugged it off as another piece of Aran's stupidity.

 

When he was asked as to why he was worthy, Aran laughed. "Because Ginae looks good in blue." Getting a chuckle from a few of the people around the circle, there was a decided silence on the part of Ginae. Still, it was a matter of who would then step forward and decide to test him and see whether he was worthy. It would be interesting to see who stepped forward, Ginae and Llugh had already tested him so they couldn't step forward again. Well, they could but they most likely wouldn't.

 

Rosheen might, she hadn't been pleased about him throwing the match that she had sponsored him for, and Vasya too might take the opportunity to do so simply because Vasya would love to smack him a few times. Lyv was there, as were Andular and Daemon and Liitha was lurking amongst them as well.

 

All these possibilities were courtesy of Ginae who had been so kind as to sponsor him for yet a third round where he would no doubt be bruised and stabbed for his trouble. Most likely something Ginae was anticipating, the woman had an unhealthy fixation on him suffering. He'd only seen to it that her arse was slapped and a few other odds and ends, just small things.

 

Who would step forward?

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[silhouette]

Another day, another ceremony. Brand shrugged into a loose white shirt, and belted his swords around his waist. Not that he didn’t like ceremonies, but sometimes… well, take this one, for example. Aran had had ample opportunity to prove that he wasn’t standard blademaster material. Brand appreciated the man’s skills, but he very much doubted Aran would ever wield a blademaster’s weapon. That didn’t matter much, and it wouldn’t have bothered Brand at all. If not for the fact that someone had pushed him forward. Again. He sighed. He’d rather hade had the opportunity to have a chat with Aran beforehand. See what the man was all about. Why he was failing so spectacularly each and every time. Brand had seen him in action a couple of time, and he could see when someone was slacking off during a fight. The past two ceremonies, Aran had slacked off like nothing Brand had ever seen.

 

“Here goes nothing.†He muttered, walking out of his office and joining in the circle. He inclined his head to his fellow blademasters and grand masters. Aran had a nice crowd gathered, all there to see him fall on his face. Again. Wonderful. He appeared soon enough, wearing a robe. That was when Brand realised the extent of Aran’s show. He wasn’t just failing, he wanted everyone to see him fail. Fine then. Brand could help him with that. He stepped forward. “I say you’re not worthy, Aran of Cairhien.†He flexed his muscles, and decided that it was too hot to wear a shirt. It would only get dirty anyway.

 

Keeping his eyes on his fellow blademasters, he pulled the shirt over his head, showing off his toned body. This was what a blademaster looked like. They should keep that in mind, next time they sent someone forward. “Very well then… Let’s see what you’ve got.†Something told him he was going to regret taking up the offer. Whatever Aran had in mind, it rarely amounted to anything good.

 

~Brand Ryota

Commander of the Guard.

[Wayfarer]

Aran fought the urge to laugh as Brand Ryota stripped his shirt off. He noticed Lyv was getting a good look, even Rosheen and Ginae stole a glance as Liitha was no doubt doing behind his back. The man was fun though, and as a Commander he'd proved to be far better in Aran's mind than previous position holders when it came to himself. He'd been too worried about Elia stumbling over his secret and Con had been outright hostile when it came to his very presence, but Brand was neither unreasonably harsh nor interested in digging up people's pasts. Both of these things suited Aran very much, even if the man was a showpony.

 

Of course, Aran was worse.

 

As Brand approached, Aran grinned as he tossed his cloak clear of the circle to get a gasp or two as well as at least one chuckle. Garbed in simple small clothes, he had been painted from head to toe in a myriad of colours and his hair had been dyed purple. Having concealed both his long daggers beneath the cloak, with one hand while his other had held the cloak closed, Aran now readied himself with the right blade in a soldier's grip while the left was held in a murderer's.

 

Grinning at Brand who had stopped in his tracks, Aran traced the designs with his right blade that were on his body. Colours representing every Ajah could be found upon his body, tracing about him in swirls and patterns that had clearly taken a great deal of time to put upon himself. Upon his heart someone had even made the flame of Tar Valon, someone who clearly was possessed of far more artistic talent than himself, Marie had been quite an enthusiastic participant in his marking, though the others had helped. It was all mind games to put off the opponent, or that was the impression it would give.

 

Or maybe that Aran was having another joke.

 

Not wasting time, Aran threw himself forward at Brand and threw everything he had at the man. He had been able to hold back in the first two fights even from the start, but in this one all bets were off. He would need to really put on a good show to throw off at least some suspicions this time.

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[silhouette]

Much to Brand’s surprise, Aran seemed to be eager to get the fight started. Many things surprised Brand, actually. He was still in the process of getting over Aran’s attire. Well, what was left of the attire. Or the paint. Or the… He drew his swords, his attention snapping back just in time for him to counter Aran’s attack. The man was spirited, Brand would give him that much.

 

The Swallow Takes Flight was wrapped in The Grapevine Twines, spiraling into the Thistledown Floats on the Whirlwind as Aran threw himself forward. His blades caught in the path of The Falling Leaf, their dance became elemental as Wind and Rain unleashed themselves upon Brand, forcing him backward as he defended. Aran knew that the advantage would only last as long as Brand allowed it to, but all he had to do was push and push until he drove Brand into an offensive.

 

Brand blocked and parried Aran’s attacks. It wasn’t that Brand couldn’t have ended this fight easily, but all in all he was surprised that Aran was putting this much effort into it. Despite his weird get-up, he was obviously eager to win. Brand mostly avoided his attacks, poking at Aran’s defences here and there, to see if the man’s defences were up to par.

 

Hacking at Brand with both his blades, Aran kneeled before The Hummingbird Kisses the Honeyrose as he responded as The River Undercuts the Bank. Even as Brand danced back, Aran lunged forward once more and soon found himself whirling and twirling as he was Twisting in Wind, trailing Brand and using his circular motion to ready one attack after the other to pressure Brand.

 

So maybe the previous ceremonies had been flukes. Maybe Aran hadn’t been ready before, and was ready now. Either way, he was showing Brand that he was ready for it now. Brand knew he couldn’t judge too soon though. Best test Aran some more before he called this a victory for the smaller man. Arc of the Moon twisted into Moon rises over water. Bundling the Straw pushed Aran back. Brand advanced, slashing and stabbing away at Aran with both his swords.

 

Falling back, Ribbon in the Air and Parting the Silk traced a fine dance through the air as he dealt with thrust after thrust. The danger of such an attack was the more one defended against the repetition, the more one could unconsciously lock into the motion and then be too slow to match the new attack. Not so for Aran who was prepared for the slashes that concluded the form.

 

~Brand Ryota

 

~Aran

[Wayfarer]

Falling back, Ribbon in the Air and Parting the Silk traced a fine dance through the air as he dealt with thrust after thrust. The danger of such an attack was the more one defended against the repetition, the more one could unconsciously lock into the motion and then be too slow to match the new attack. Not so for Aran who was prepared for the slashes that concluded the form. It was time to push again.

 

Falling to one knee as The Falcon Stoops was shrugged off by his Low Wind Rising, Aran collapsed and rolled sideways at Brand's legs. Lashing out with his blades, the distance they bought him gave Aran time to push off onto his feet before throwing himself at Brand in The Master's Flight. Finding only air, Aran rolled to his feet and threw himself at the man once more.

 

Signpost met Lightning of Three Prongs, The Widowmaker had Brand dancing clear who then leaped forward with The Light's Fury. Catching both the blades in the Tower of Morning, Aran shoved the blades clear and surged forward Striking the Spark. Falling into a rhythm of movement as Brand gave ground, Aran's blades fell again and again as the man caught every blow grudgi-

 

Blades falling from Aran's hands, The Kingfisher Takes a Silverback was pulled from his abdomen hurriedly even as his knees buckled. A groan escaped his lips as he fell forward and onto his side, light but gut wounds were always amongst the most painful. But it meant that he had won, victory through defeat. Not that it registered beyond a bare acknowledgement in the back of his mind, his greater concern was the blood he was staunching as best he could with his hands.

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[silhouette]

Just a few more moves. Brand was aware of the eyes of his fellow blademasters on his back. No doubt Rosheen wanted him to call it already, while Ginae and Vasya wanted him to stretch the fight longer, to see if Aran was actually doing this good. Brand chose the middle road, pushing forward even as the fighting got heavier. Little nicks and cuts were showing on both their torso’s. Not all that surprising, if you took in mind that both were fighting with actual sharp weaponry. Brand was in favour of having the weaponry in a blademaster ceremony replaced with their harmless training counterparts, but he hadn’t been able to convince Bryon yet.

 

He jumped aside, just in time to avoid a thrust at his groin. Sharp weapons could do a lot of damage, especially there. Aran didn’t seem to be afraid though. He was slashing and thrusting at Brand, fighting as if his life depended on it. And yet not. He was also strangely reckless. That was something Brand didn’t like. The further the fight progressed, the more reckless Aran got. Brand saw a couple of openings, but decided not to jump on those yet. Maybe Aran would recover. Maybe he’d shape up aga….

 

Brand felt his sword connect with the soft flesh of Aran’s abdomen. Even as Aran went down, he pulled his sword away, dropping them to his sides. “Medic!†he called, sprinting to his opponent’s side. Fayth was there instantly, putting her hands to Aran’s abdomen. Within moments Aran was twitching under the effort of Fayth’s heading. Brand rose to his feet, locking eyes with several of the other blade masters. “He came close this time, but he is not a blademaster yet.†There were some smug looks, and some disappointed ones. Aran had done well, after all, but recklessness was unforgivable. To Brand’s surprise, Rosheen just looked worried. Had she gotten used to Aran failing so soon? Brand wondered…

 

“Fayth, tell him I want to see him in my office as soon as he’s able to walk again.†The Aes Sedai opened her mouth, as if to say that Aran would need a lot more rest than that. “As soon as he can walk, Fayth. I’d rather get this discussion over with while he’s still feeling wobbly. Might convince him to be honest with me. Who knows. Stranger things have happened.†He picked up his shirt, using it to clean his sword. “Al right, back to your duties!†he said to the other blade masters. “If I see anyone slacking about, they’ll feel the flat end of my sword.â€

 

~Brand Ryota.

[Wayfarer]

Aaaaaggaaaah!!

 

Even after all this time, Aran was never completely comfortable with Aes Sedai healing. That wasn't to say he was complaining, the alternative was to spend alot of time in bed and a limited supply of alcohol. These were things that Aran disliked, at least when it was without company and when he was healing there was little choice in the matter. Hence freezing winter that swept through Aran's body and made him arch and groan was infinitely more preferable than doing things the natural way.

 

Sagging on the ground as he was released from the grip of Fayth's spell, Aran felt a new kind of pain as his stomach told him he needed to eat. Alot. His legs were refusing to co-operate for at least a few minutes, the stress of the injury still taking a little to recover even if the wound itself had been healed. At least Fayth stayed with him, and it was her that helped him onto his feet. She even carried his swords and cloak which was kind of her as she helped him back to his room.

 

By the time they were there, he had recovered enough of his motor skills to be able to move under his own power though he wasn't prancing about as such. Thanking Fayth for her help as he put his things away, he disdained clothing as he headed back outside again. Washing the blood from him while it was still wet had been a good idea, his paint job where he was stabbed was only blurred a little as a result.

 

Before they'd parted ways, Fayth had informed him he'd needed to see the Commander. Aran wasn't quite ready for that so he went to the Dining Hall instead. Getting alot of whistles, laughs and not too few frowns for his attire, Aran grinned as he walked over and helped himself to a bowl of stew, and on second thought got a second one. Spoons and forks for both, a slice of bread ontop of each was the final touch as he left the Dining Hall.

 

It was a few more minutes before he reached Brand's office. Not bothering to knock, he quickly balanced one of the bowls on his other arm, opened the door and quickly snatched the bowl again before he burned himself. Using his back to close it while Brand studied him, Aran wandered over and handed one of the bowls over to his Commander before taking a seat. Brand wouldn't begrudge him that after running him through, unlike Con who would have run him through again for sitting down without permission.

 

"Fayth said to come and see you. Its alright, I've felt worse before." Grinning, Aran began on his stew. As bad as Brand might feel about having stabbed him rather convincingly, he had doubts as to whether that was the only reason he had been required to see the Commander so soon.

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[silhouette]

“Which part of right away didn’t you get?†Brand said, grinning at Aran as he took the bowl of food. He had to admit, he was rather hungry. Fighting did that to a person. Brand dug in immediately, finishing off his bowl within moments. Placing the empty bowl in front of him, he glanced at Aran. “So… do you have anything useful to say about the ceremony?â€

 

Rolling his eyes at Brand's comment when he saw the grin, Aran decided his time was better spent eating instead of talking. The race to finish was easily won by Brand, as Aran had given himself far more considering he was the one who had gone through healing. And there of course was the question, the ceremony, and while a few answers came to mind there was a very simple one that summed the experience up. "Ow."

 

“No, I’m serious.†Brand said, after which he stretched and yawned. “No further comment? Nothing like ‘Gosh, Brand, you totally won that one, and I am in no way fit to stand in your shadow’?†Brand pulled some papers out of a drawer, descriptions of Aran’s earlier Blademaster ceremonies. “Or something like ‘Yeah, well, I feel pretty bad about throwing this match, as well as the previous two, but a man has to do what a man has to do.’â€

 

Laughing ruefully, Aran shrugged at Brand. "All well and good for you to joke about, you weren't the one who got some steel in their gut. Look, sometimes I do well, sometimes I don't. So far I've managed to blow it three times, and each time rather painfully. There's no need to rub it in my face that I'm not blademaster material." Taking a bite of his bread, Aran waved his free hand about. "Don't you have any water or something?"

 

Brand pointed at a pitcher standing on a cabinet under one of the windows. “Help yourself.†Aran looked like a hurt puppy for a moment. “What? You got healed, you can walk again.†Brand had read the descriptions several times. Sure, the past two losses might be called bad luck. Might be. Brand was no fool though. He knew a faked mistake when he saw one. “Besides, if you’d told me that you have no desire to go through the ceremony, then you could have avoided getting stabbed. Three times.â€

 

Aran grinned as he got up and deliberately tottered towards the water pitcher, Brand was onto him after all. Not that it was going to stop him from lying about it, that would defeat the whole purpose of it. "Look, I took a few stabs at trying for Blademaster and I got stabbed for my trouble instead. Through many years of fighting I've discovered I strangely enough have a strong dislike to being stabbed. Unless you can think of a reason for me to choose to be merrily stabbed on multiple occasions, one so secret that it eludes myself, I don't know where you're going with this."

 

“And here I thought we were finally past all the nonsense.†Brand said, sighing dramatically. “But I can see Krelsa traumatised you thoroughly. You have to realise that I am not Krelsa. I am your friend here, you can trust me.†The fact that Brand was grinning like a smug bastard probably didn’t do his credibility much good. “So if you want to stick with your story, that’s fine, but I’d much rather hear why you’ve thrown all of your matches so far.â€

 

Sitting back down as he took a sip of his water, Aran knew that one of the big problems with Brand was that he encouraged people to talk with his friendly manner. He was the sort of person one could easily see as a sibling, or an uncle. It was specifically because of that that Aran had no intention of telling Brand anything beyond what he'd already said. "I haven't thrown my matches. I've just had a bad run, but eh if you want to give me more shifts then so be it."

 

Brand sighed. Well, if Aran wanted things that way, then Brand could play along. “I don’t think you quite realise what throwing a match like the blademaster ceremony really means. I’m not going to enlighten you, beyond saying that you’ve made a lot of important people waste time on you. Time that wouldn’t have had to be wasted, if you’d been straight about your intentions all along. Did anyone else know about your intentions to throw these matches, or are you the only one I have to teach a lesson?â€

 

Aran shrugged at Brand, his usual smile gone. "There isn't some vast overreaching conspiracy here, I just lost my matches. Clearly I'm not Blademaster material, I'm sorry you don't agree with that but thats just how it seems three matches later. If you want to punish me for not winning, there's not exactly much I can do now is there? So what will be my punishment?" Finishing his water, Aran sat the cup down on the table as he waited for Brand to sentence him.

 

“Have it your way then.†Brand rose from his seat. Not that he really needed the extra height advantage on Aran, but it was always best to make sure that his point was clear. Somehow the intimidation factor always helped in that. “Tomorrow morning you’re going to go to the White Tower. You’re going to report in the kitchens there. For the next week, you’re going to serve the Aes Sedai there. You know, waste some time serving people who are better than you. When you feel like you’re ready to tell me why you don’t want to become a blademaster, you know where to find me.â€

 

"You can't be serious!" The shock was genuine enough, there were plenty of punishments that could be given by the Commander of the Tower Guard, but that hadn't been amongst those he would have thought of having handed down. The smug little grin he got back confirmed that Brand was indeed serious about it. All that time in the kitchens, where was he going to find time to do everything else?

 

Sighing heavily, it took Aran a moment to get to his feet. Collecting Brand's bowl along with his own, he threw his Commander a salute before walking out of the office. He needed to return the bowls to the Dining Hall and then he needed to make preperations for the morrow. As he walked, a slow smile began to creep across his face.

 

Where would he find time for anything else indeed?

 

 

~Brand Ryota

 

Aran

Tower Guard