Author's Note: Yay! A second whopping chapter. Thank you kindly to those who have reviewed... Ahem. It has occurred to me that this just may as well be entirely A/U. I still do not know where I want to go with this fic, I have only a vague path in mind. Anyway... Please review! I'm not asking you to sugar-coat it and absolutely love my fanfic, but no flames. I'm perfectly okay with you not loving my story. There is a line between constructive criticism and unleashing your irritation on someone with a tongue-lashing. Believe me. It's true.
Be My Escape
Bethania groaned and rolled over on the soft pallet she was laying on. Upon gaining consciousness, she realized that the last thing she remembered was being chucked out onto the dirty dry ground. Her attempts to pry her eyes open were relatively unsuccessful, but she found herself in a low tent, and a tall woman dressed brown-grey breeches and soft boots crouching beside her, watching closely. Bethania skittered backwards (or tried to) and groggily demanded. "Where am I? Who are you?"
The woman crouched beside her smiled slightly, and offered a small bowl filled with water.
"You are in the Three-fold Land, with the Jagged Spire Sept of the Taardad Aiel, in the tents of the Maidens of the Spear. I am Charime of the Jagged Spire Sept of the Taardad Aiel." The Maiden tilted her head and smiled a small smile on her dark face. Her fiery hair fell forwards slightly, making her seem more like a caring mother than anything else.
Bethania, however, nodded as if she perfectly understood. Aiel... Aiel... wasn't there some type of feud between the Cairhienin and Aiel? she pondered desperately, not knowing if to be scared. The Aiel woman looked at her with a touch of sympathy.
"Do not worry, we offer you water and shade freely. When we saw you lying out in the emptiness of the desert, crying out from hallucinations, we knew something was incredibly wrong. After looking you over, we decided perhaps one of our Wise Ones could heal you." Charime reached for Bethania's face and touched it slightly. "You are looking much better already." Charime's smile grew. She turned around and offered Bethania a cup of water to drink.
Crying out? Hallucinations? Wise Ones? Healing? What under the Light? Bethania couldn't think straight. "Wha—!" her question was cut off by her own shriek as she had reached out for the cup of water Charime offered. One look at her hand which looked nothing like her own sent Bethania's mind reeling. Shucking off the cloak that wrapped her, Bethania's eyes quickly went over what skin she could see. It was entirely unbelievable.
Her skin had very little feeling- touching things or being touched. Her skin was a pale and pasty yellow in color, and had a rough texture. Bethania reached up to her face, only to feel the same thing. She felt numb on the outside, and yet inside she felt healthy. Stuck inside of a shell. Trapped. Captured. Oh, this would never do.
Charime blinked slowly watching Bethania. "This... is not how you normally look?"
"Of course not!" Bethania's voice squeaked out from surprise. Taking a few deep breaths, she calmed herself. "No, no. I... It was that man. That man did something to me, and then threw me out into the Waste."
Charime leaned forward intently. "A man? Threw?" Bethania nodded for what she could.
"My town was raided by Trollocs last night. I hid in a closet, and a Trolloc found me, and grabbed me and dropped me before a man. He... He was well dressed, and I knew him for darkfriend immediately."
Charime nodded as if she knew exactly what Bethania was talking about. When she noticed Bethania stopped, she gave a small wave of her hand for Bethania to continue.
"He asked me if I wanted to be 'spared' from Trollocs, and come away with him. I refused, and so... he did something to me." Bethania could feel emotions rising within her again, the pain did not seem to leave so easily. "He grabbed my head... and it sent pain through my whole body and over all of my skin..." She trailed off before she let her emotions take a full hold of her.
In response, Charime rocked back on her heels and seemed to ponder what Bethania was saying. Silence stretched within the tent.
She finally spoke again, "I wish we could help you, but we fear going on the other side of the Dragonwall is risky, and we have other duties to our clans and societies here." She offered another cup of water in seeming askance for forgiveness.
Bethania took the cup and nodded, and drank some water. She was certainly not used to this climate. She set her cup down beside her and bit her lip, wondering about the Aiel woman.
"Do you...? No, no..." Bethania started to ask, but trailed off and stopped herself. She knew the Aiel were a tough people. She figured from the type of dress, weapons, and title, that some of these women fought alongside the men. She wanted that. Bethania knew in her heart right then, that would be the thing to heal herself from the pain of her past.
"Do I what? Do not be afraid to ask. Perhaps I can help." The Aiel woman seemed intent on making sure Bethania knew she could voice her own words.
"I just... Well..." She couldn't bring herself to ask, she just couldn't. But Charime's look was intense. So, everything simply spilled.
"I wondered if it was possible for me to become a Maiden of the Spear." Bethania nearly gasped after saying it, and tried to hid her face in the cup of water again.
And yet, the Maiden's eyebrows simply lifted slightly. No gasping, no shock. These people were really made of stone. Her weight shifted from a squat to a sit on the rug beside Bethania.
"Well... It would not be my choice to let you become... one of us," she began slowly. "Your... circumstances make me curious. May I ask why you wish to be wedded to the spear?"
Bethania nodded. "My life has not been perfect. My husband died years ago, and I sent my children off to my relatives because I knew I could not raise them properly with what I made. I am a basket weaver in my town, and... there is not so much business as there could be. Also, I can hardly imagine myself traveling back out of here... I feel fine on the inside, but I think it would be a struggle for even the fittest person." Charime listened carefully. She seemed open and honest, without ill intent. And so, Bethania continued, "Perhaps... changing my life will heal my heart from the past..." She trailed off, trying to avoid her emotions again.
Yet Charime smiled. "Many girls and women are eager to become Maidens for the very same reason. My concern is your health, and fitness, even though you say you feel fine on the inside. However, the Aiel are not exactly... kind... to wetlanders. The Three-fold Land is no place for coddling. Perhaps only a fistful in the history of the Aiel have tried to become like us. You seem strong in spirit, so perhaps you will be part of that fistful." The woman stood up partially and went to the tent door, and pulled another Maiden from outside to come in. Charime's companion didn't even seem mildly surprised.
"I am Keihrin of the Four Holes sept of the Taardad Aiel." Keihrin paused for a reply from Bethania, and she suddenly remembered it was probably very rude to not even introduce herself.
"Oh. I am Bethania Eran from Sunamdre." She hoped that perhaps neither her accent nor town deemed her obviously Cairhienin. Both Aiel smiled slightly in reply.
There was chaos in the clans. Organized chaos, perhaps, to an extent, but chaos nonetheless. Word was spreading like wildfire that there was a wetlander in one of the Maiden's tents, a sick one, a diseased one, a dying one. A woman captured, a guest, a man who was being tortured, who could say? Odd thing was, the Wise Ones were refusing to pass information on to non-Wise Ones. Which proved some of the Aiel's point that the newcomer was injured to an extent. Or perhaps in trouble. Again, no one could say.
The tent flap opened and Bethania, Charime, and Keihrin looked up to see two Aiel women clad in blouses and long gray brown skirts with short wiry hair coming through the doorway.
"Ahhh! You are up and awake." The first woman smiled slightly, almost warmly. The second nodded curtly, and both sat down, arranging their skirts. Bethania watched both for a moment before speaking up.
"Yes, I'm awake. But I'm not too sure how well I'm feeling." She glanced down at her pasty pale hand unassuredly. The second Aiel woman in skirts nodded curtly again. Bethania was about to feel perplexed, but the woman interrupted her thoughts.
"I am Jerydn of the Four Holes sept of the Taardad Aiel. I am one of the Wise Ones that helped you earlier yesterday."
Yesterday? I've been asleep for more than a day? Oh dear... Bethania suddenly became worried, and knots tied themselves in her stomach.
"I am Wionni, also of the Four Holes sept of the Taardad Aiel. Jerydn and I are near-sisters and Wise Ones." She glanced over at Jerydn and smiled slightly, and the smile was returned, to Bethania's amazement. Suddenly Bethania was hit with questions. What is a Wise One? What about a near-sister? Jerydn rearranged herself nearer to Bethania and felt her face and hands cautiously. Removing Bethania's cloak, she also felt up her arms and on her stomach. Everywhere, the sickly pasty pale skin was calloused and thick, nerveless and decaying. Bethania bit her lip worriedly. She had an idea that perhaps Wise Ones were healers, or like the legendary Aes Sedai?
Charime coughed slightly. "I beg your pardon, Wise One..." she tilted her head down, directing her question to Jerydn. "The ... wetlander... Bethania... and I were speaking. I know it is not of our custom, and I know that Bethania appears very sick right now... But I do know that she has lived a difficult life, and... She requested to wed the Spear." She finished in a hurry, almost seeming abashed, quite contrary to her appearance. Both Wise Ones turned to her, and just as Wionni appeared to just about unleash a tongue-lashing, the tent flap burst open again.