tobias + avith; like timon and pumbaa

[cobrashot]

Who: Tobias and Avith
What: at the pinnacle of crisis they act like, well, tobias and avith. HAKUNA MATATA
When: post tossing allen in a room, pre moirine waking
Where: moirine's room
Warnings: tobi curses :(



It wasn't often Avith was in a seriously foul mood. Water off a turtle's back, as the saying went, things usually didn't bother him to such a degree, or at least noticeably. He was not an alarmist, he did not like reactionary responses, and he did not care to expend his energy uselessly.

Well. Normally that was what he believed. He found that more and more, recently, he was going against his own philosophy as it clashed with others'.

He took a few moments to calm himself down, forced out a hissing breath and put his ledger away. He would have his turn in watching the room Allen was kept in later, and could only hope this did not sour his mood further. It had been foolish to keep the encounter with the dog from Tobias for so long. The longer he had, the more the chance seemed to slip from him. He'd never meant to, had anyway, and it came out now when there was the least need for it.

But that was all Avith had to be ashamed of. He did not regret speaking with the dog, he did not regret keeping his sword sheathed. What he had said that night was true- it would be Tobias' side he took at the end of the day.

He realized, feeling somewhat foolish, that he hadn't thought to ask where Tobias was, having assumed he was in his room. He would check there first, then the Occia's room. A shame circumstances kept them from convening together to speak of current matters, as they should have been from the start...

Tobias was in the Occia's chambers still. He hadn't left, even after the healers had settled in. He'd taken a seat in the rickety wooden chair the Occia had bid him sit before and tried to make himself comfortable. In the end he ended up dozing, one foot propped on the table and the chair tipped at a dangerous angle. None of the healers had been surprised when he woke to the crash and crack of wood under him and a sour lump on the back of his head.

He'd taken his annoyance out on Godric over the ledgers, and now Avith would be along to scold him. His ledger was tucked under his thigh as he sat on the table, strangely silent as they tended to his burned hand. The flesh was a right pink and white now, no longer the mess of dark reds and blacks that it had been. His palm had no yet sealed back together, and he found feel layers of skin sliding against each other when they flexed his hand. It would heal, if messily.

Watching the procedure gave him something else to do besides brood over Avith's betrayal. He'd spoken to the dog and drawn conclusions without him. Duplicity was only acceptable when he did it. His eyes flicked to the Occia's door, wondering when Avith would stop wandering around his room long enough to look in the appropriate place.

Standing in Tobias' room always made Avith feel disoriented. He'd been so busy with helping the other Cancellari sorting things out, he'd lost track of time, found himself more tired than he'd let on, and the mess of books made his head swim. Knowing he said he'd be there soon (or intimated it, at least), he decided, perhaps somewhat spitefully, to take a moment to poke at the books nearest to him before he went to the Occia's chambers.

Finding nothing of immediate interest, he gave up, instead taking one opened, face down, off the desk, carefully putting a feather in to mark its place (was it a quill now? Or simply one to keep around for his own amusement?), and headed out again, quietly shutting the door behind him.

The hallway was quiet, practically empty. What time was it, even? He hadn't even been paying attention to that much. The Occia's door opened quietly, and the healers tending to Tobias started when he stepped in, a normal reaction that he dismissed without comment. Saying nothing, he set the book down by Tobias and stood, looking away from him to look to the Occia, dozing fitfully on her bed. He had not been inside her rooms since the announcement of her illness.

He shook his head to himself. One of their many mistakes. It would be difficult to reverse them all. "Has there been... any change?" he asked quietly, unsure of where she lay in her illness, ignoring his primary reason for coming for now.

That had taken longer than he'd expected. Finally seeing Avith in front of him, he found his patience was as short as the stubble that lined his jaw. He glanced away with a loud sigh, hand twitching when the healer swabbed too roughly. "They were able to get her to take some brother earlier. She appears to sleep easier now.

He was silent while his hand was wrapped again, flexing against the familiar tight throb that a fresh bandage gave. The healer returned to the Occia's side and resumed what Allen's job had been - to blot her down with a damp cloth. "Her fever is not yet broken," he murmured and sighed again, and finally forced himself to look back at Avith. He looked worn. It made him wonder how he himself appeared. "And Allen?"

He would have liked to sit, but he realized belatedly that the Occia's rooms were with very little sitting space. It would be offensive, he thought to sit on the steps to the dias, and so he remained standing. He nodded at Tobias' words, shifting out of the way as the healer took place again beside the Occia. This was not something they could help with, only watch and pray.

At the mention of Allen, Avith's expression didn't quite seem to know where to settle. Annoyed, exasperated, sad, they all seemed to be there before he wiped his face and wiped them away in the process. "The laudanum... took immediate effect. He was exhausted. Slept for some time. Woke again." He scowled. "Yelled himself hoarse. Was given more laudanum."

They'd set about clearing that particular hall of initiates. There weren't many, thankfully, but for their sake and everybody else's, they'd deserted it.

"...your ledger," he said then, partly serious, but there was a wry twist to his lips that indicated he likely wasn't going to make much of a fuss about it if pressed.

Tobias had thought maybe Burrell would behave. Approach the situation calmly, only if to drive his credibility into the ground and brand him a liar. He didn't know if he was pleased or saddened to hear the boy continued to rage. "Absolute-" he started, then paused at the sharp turn of the healer's head and the 'shh!' that followed it. It wasn't as if Moirine could hear them, he protested mentally, but when he spoke next his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Madness." There was no other word for it. The Citadel's walls were crawling with it now. He was only left to wonder when it started. "He cannot remain in such a cycle for much longer. He will have no voice, or we will run out of drug." Thinking of the unhinged glaze of Burrell's eyes, Tobias had a guess which might come first.

He leaned back to grasp his ledger, from under his leg, holding it out of Avith's arm's reach. "My ledger," he whispered evenly. "Mine."

Avith looked also at the healer who shushed Tobias. Moirine hadn't so much as twitched- well, maybe she had, but it wasn't anything new- but he supposed there was no need for aggravating the situation. If that were anymore possible.

He made a disgruntled face as Tobias finished his sentence though, not one to argue. Voice at a lower pitch, he continued, "I should not... have let her silence me. On the matter." He crossed his arms in front of him, glaring at the floor. He had hoped, hoped her reason would prevail. But it had not been a matter of reason, he knew. He had always known. "Tell me. What was said. Between you two. He curses your name, at intervals."

He watched Tobias keep tight hold of his ledger, tempted to snatch it. He would wait and see if a more promising opportunity came. "The trouble you cause... not so much."

His brows went flat at the mention of trouble. "He was foolish not to think it didn't rhyme." A song or two defaming Godric's honour was only one way he spent his free time. He'd been so pleased to discover the similarities between words when he did.

Ruffled, he let the ledger fall from his hand to the table with a quiet smack. "He summoned me to say he suspected he was going mad, and asked when his mind slipped from grasp that I send him away. I agreed." His uninjured hand scratched over his face, free of its glove for once. "He was sitting astride her, doing the same as being done now. Except his movements were erratic. He was clearly agitated. She was soaked. It had begun there, I think." Always one breath from losing himself completely, Tobias recalled. His jaw had trembled with the effort of keeping himself even. "I asked the last he'd slept. His answer was to dismiss me."

Avith sighed, a familiar, long-suffering noise that he had trouble containing at the best of times. It wasn't as though it made him feel any better for doing it, like crying out when in pain. Which it sort of was, in a muted way, lest the healer shush him, too. "Just barely," he muttered. It was a rhyme... but not a very good one.

He glanced at the ledger, let it be for now. He looked at Tobias strangely, not because of the man but his words. "... he expected us... to wait?" he said, clearly disturbed at the idea. Wait for him to go mad, to do something to Moirine, and then act? He rubbed his elbow. "...the other night... you heard a sound?" Most of them had, he would bet his life on it. None of them had interrupted when things had fallen quiet again between the two of them. She had drugged him again, and demanded they stay out. Would they have to ignore such orders in the future?

He pushed his hand through his hair, a clear sign of agitation though he made no other movement. "You said. He Believes. What others say. Did you... did you find... that included their... relationship?"

"He made no mention of such a thing," he whispered. He hadn't thought of it then. Tobias' head tilted to give Moirine's supine form a long, searching look. She stirred enough to sigh, and then was quiet again. "The way he touched her, however.. was without pause or limit." Another notch of damnation in Allen's belt of Belief.

He felt sick at the thought that they'd allowed such a thing to go on, too, and covered his face again. His eyes felt grainy when he rubbed them. "I heard such a noise, but it was not lasting. Too long have we stood idle. The boy thinks of us as servants. Her too, I fear, when it comes to the subject of him." Pinching the bridge of his nose found no relief, either. "It will not be a peaceful rest, when she wakes."

He held Tobias' gaze until the other man covered his face, and likewise looked away, his stomach unsettled. The healers were clearly trying to keep to their own business. They would make certain nothing left the room, though what was there to keep that wasn't already known? "Perhaps it affects her... as well." He had not thought about it that way, hoped it was untrue, but he could not know, did not know how he could even possibly ask. She clung to Allen as her brother. Considered herself alone without him. And out of pity they had allowed it.

But Allen and Moirine were no longer children. Far from it.

"What will we do?" he asked finally. It sounded lost. Had Cancellari had to take command over an Occia before in such a way? He did not know much of Tobias' time with the previous Occia. "Will we allow him... back in ... once she awakes? Cast him out?" Was there any middle ground they could take?

"She is seventeen," he snapped, shoulders bunching. "She be of weak condition and still claim she knows the world. Imperious tones all around." If he thought about it, he could almost feel his hair streaking gray. Teenagers were an awful breed. Full of hormones and fearlessness and all the world's knowledge. Or so they thought. It was a bitter subject, made sorer by each of his nephew's appearances on the ledger.

"Cita's cock." The murmured curse did nothing to make him feel better. Instead, he only rubbed at his forehead and let his fingers droop to shield his eyes. " Forgive me. I don't know. Only that I seem to have talent for raising his ire by simply breathing. Put him in the same room with me and hope she sees his poor reactions for what they are."

"She would not," he said in that oddly gentle tone, knowing it would be a disappointment to hear, but not wishing to crush Tobias with the reality. She would defend him. Whether she wished to or not. "...and do not think yourself... so special," he said, wryly. "He thinks us all... against him." Which he supposed they were now. They had, in a way, declared war. Against one of their own.

"We must all speak together," he said, definitively. "This is... a decision. She cannot make." This, and perhaps others. What if she did not recover? Was there even a candidate waiting? "His insistence... undermines her authority... and her image."

"She would, we are, and yes we do." It seemed like a strange shift to have Avith suddenly speak more, but Tobias was always loathe to stop Avith once he started. The other man's voice was a small comfort, and a rarity usually besides. He let his hand fall from his face and stared at the ground. The table creaked under his weight, but he found he would not mind being able to make a little noise. Such restrictions on speech made him uncomfortable.

"Just as well, unwise would it be to leave both subjects unguarded." The moment they left Allen's door undarkened, he'd slip away. Perhaps even right back into the Occia's chambers, but it was not a chance they could take. "A ledger post might be most efficient to set opinions forth."

He shook his head, still smiling slightly, but it was tired, there because he didn't know what other expression to make. He wondered if Moirine would take the chance to distance herself from Allen through this, or... could you dismiss a Cancellari? Or several?

He slipped his hands behind his back, feeling the need to move, a sure sign of his agitation then. Avith was not one to waste his energy on movement, either, but he began to slowly pace.

"Even if she listens. He may well not." No, if he was loose, he would slip inside again. The idea of his barricading the door crossed Avith's mind and he almost laughed at it. "Perhaps... we should dye his hair. While he sleeps." A joke in bad taste, he was certain. Had Allen dark hair instead, things would have been very different. It was in the boy's every action that he considered himself also blessed.

In his pacing, he was quick to snatch up Tobias' ledger, holding it above his head as he passed by. "It will wait. For tomorrow. The Handmaiden... cannot sort all the Citadel's problems. On her own. The longer the Occia sleeps. The more disarray will spread."

His chin had dropped to his hand in thought, nodding along with all of Avith's points and following his feet with his gaze. He wouldn't even be against darkening the boy's hair. It would strip him of some of his smug superiority. "May morning bring new perspective." It was a nice, optimistic thought, but Tobias was sure the situation would still look so bleak.

Perhaps he would comfort himself with more rhymes. His hand fished blindly for his ledger, brow creasing when it met air. It took only a moment for him to connect the empty space with the object in Avith's hand. A glance to the Occia's bed found the healer's back still turned dutifully. He was on his feet in another breath, raised on his tiptoes and reaching with his uninjured hand for his ledger. "Give it back!" he hissed. Even at the most dark of times, they acted like unruly schoolchildren.

New perspective or more headache? Avith was sure of the latter, but the former, well. Perhaps a chat with the others would help with that. Once Tobias had his ledger back, anyway.

Speaking of. Though they were the same height, Avith had the advantage of having been already standing and being several steps away. He quickly glanced over to the healer, who had no interest in them for the time being (or, at least, was trying really hard not to), and took another step back as Tobias approached. "I will," he whispered back fiercely, "tomorrow." He jumped back and stuffed Tobias' red ledger under his arm as though it might shield it from him.

His brows leapt towards his hairline. Tomorrow? He advanced on Avith slowly with a scowl. "You are not my mother!" So far they'd gone unnoticed by the healer. He'd prefer to keep it as such, but having only one good hand to use made such difficult. He lunged for the thin wedge of exposed red that poked out from under Avith's arm, his bandaged hand held up behind him. "Give it back!"

Avith burst into a wide grin at that. It was inappropriate and the healer, if he turned around, would be sworn to secrecy thrice over. "Certainly hope not," he shot back. He managed to dodge somewhat, ducking behind Tobias and taking a few more steps back, though Tobias had managed to grab onto his cloak.

"The Occia's stationary. Will work. Until morning," he said, taking the ledger from under his arm and holding it out again. Just a little closer to the door...

He used the grip on Avith's cloak to keep him from falling, turning to face the other man's back. All at once he was furious. Avith had lied to him, betrayed him, and stolen his ledger. They'd never even touched the subject of Silas, and here he was running away. With his ledger. Then his boot skid forward an inch when Avith moved, and suddenly all was forgotten. Tobias bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing and wound his hand in Avith's cloak, leaning back nearly to his knees to pull him away from the door.

"Give it back!"

"Let go!" he hissed instead, darting another glance at the priest, pressing his lips together lest he start laughing as well. He just barely stifled a noise when Tobias leaned back to pull him away from the door, shifting his weight in order not to fall himself. "Stop stop stop," he whispered fiercely, batting at Tobias' hand. He was going to smack him with the ledger at this rate, but that would give Tobias a chance to grab at it.

"I'll tell you... of the dog... in exchange," he grated out.

His grip slacked for only a moment before he tugged again. Without a good hand to lean on while he pulled, all of his weight went into Avith's cloak. His bandaged hand bat at Avith's lamely. It was disappointing that Avith was trying to bargain with him. "You will tell me of the dog regardless. But you will give it back first!" What was he, a child? Though in retrospect, it was hard to tell from their current actions. "Give it!"

Avith hissed at him again. "Very well... but still... I get this."

One hand still holding the ledger out of reach, his free hand went up to the clasp that held his cloak fast and undid it.

Tobias could not contain the tiny yelp that came from him when he crashed backwards onto stone. The cloak he'd been so desperately clinging to fell over him. He heard a hiss of disapproval from what he could only guess was the healer as h trashed blindly under the fabric, face flushed and spitting with temporary fury and embarrassment. It was with a triumphant (but quiet!) 'ha!' that he finally found the edge of the cloak and pulled it down away from his face, smug expression fixed in place to look at..

The Occia's door swinging closed. He scowled at the empty air from his seat on the floor and whipped his head around to survey the room. No, he was gone. The healer was glaring at him. "He started it," he hissed in reply, and slowly dragged himself up from the floor. He shook Avith's cloak out and began to fold it, then paused. He still didn't have his back yet. After a moment of deliberation, he fanned it over his own shoulders instead and clasped it about his neck. It would be harder to lose this way, at any rate.