Avith + Sigyn // Stranger Danger Aftermath

[hushblade]

Who: Avith and Sigyn
When: Directly after this log.
Where: The Citadel
Rating & Warnings: Nothing special here, folks.


Sigyn hadn't looked back since she'd thrown her shoes for the dog to fetch. She'd opened the gate and scrambled through the Citadel's doors in what seemed like one long, laboured breath. The heavy stone beneath her bare feet did nothing to comfort her. The beast could be barreling down upon her still. She whirled to look back at the door she'd just crashed through, shuffling backwards until her hip banged against the end of a pew. The sudden touch made her jump and shriek, disturbing those few faithful that still prayed. Her hand clapped to her mouth as she watched the door with wide, wet eyes, as if the monster would come through it in a moment.

All at once she turned and dove for the nearest staircase, the sudden plunge of darkness doing nothing to calm her. Up, was the only thing her brain told her. There was safety in being higher, somehow. She climbed blindly, wheezing with breathlessness that came from a mix of fear, breathlessness, and sobs.

He'd been forcing himself as of late to read, to go through the book he'd gotten from Tobias in hopes of finding what he was looking for... though, he wasn't sure if he wanted to find it anymore. There seemed to be things other than Others that better suited his attention these days. Re-examining the Epistles was one. Trying to sort out the mess they'd made was another, but it was a slow thing. At least he would have something else, though of lesser importance, to focus on soon. Another few weeks and Guardswoman Cosimo said he could bring the pup back. He would have to arrange things with Aribella first...

When he looked up from the book, he realized how late it was. Normally he would have been asleep, in another few hours awake again. He didn't feel particularly tired, though, but his eyes hurt from the reading. He shut the book once he had marked the page, snuffed the candle and stood. A chill had entered the room and he put on his cloak again, then decided to take another glance around before he went to bed. He would wake up the same time as always, but a day with less sleep than usual wouldn't do much lasting harm.

He took to the hallways, checking first the Occia's room to make sure she slept peacefully, then began his patrol of the upper hallways, going down a level and continuing on. A sound in the stairwell caught his attention and he was careful to keep out of sight. The sound of sobbing caught his attention and his blood went cold. After all he'd been reading just now, could it be-?

He was doubly surprised then when Sigyn came tripping up the stairs. "Initiate," he called out, taking the stairs down to meet her. Was it her making that noise? And why was she coming up?

The sudden voice and rustle of feet almost made her run the other way. She leaned backwards to do so, teetering on the edge of a stair until she could claw her way along the wall upright again. As soon as she was no longer in danger of falling she crouched on the stars anyways, arms drawn up over her head and scrunched into the wall. Anything to make herself appear smaller.

The dog proved it could move faster than she could see. If it was already in the Citadel it would not surprise her, only terrify her further. She could hardly breathe, let alone run anymore. Her eyes squeezed shut as the steps got closer. She shut her mouth and held her breath in an attempt to be quiet, only to hiccup when another sob bubbled up in her throat.

He hesitated when she suddenly almost went careening back down the stairs and simply curled up on the step. One foot on the step below, he stopped completely and watched her a moment before he took the step down and crouched, still three or four away from her. He glanced about, wondering what it was that had frightened her so. It was quiet, as near he could tell, except for her.

"Sigyn," he said, his voice echoing in the stairwell, discomfitting even him. "Sigyn, look up. Look at me," he said softly. He considered using a match, but given her reaction last time and the state she was in now- probably not the smartest idea.

When burning heat did not overtake her immediately after the command, one arm came away from her head hesitantly. A figure above her on the stairwell, crouched and watching. It took a few moments of tense, frightened silence for her eyes to begin to adjust to the sight once she'd wiped them free of tears. Avith Rempel. The flood of relief was temporary. He gave me back my shoes and I threw them at the dog, went through her mind in its addled state, and her eyes filled anew.

"T-there was a dog," she spluttered, and hid her face in her hands. Many other Initiates had howled over seeing such a beast with glowing red eyes, but Sigyn had not believed them.

"A dog?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted the answer. He glanced about again and then shifted, reaching out to take her arm gently. "Come on. Up. Careful."

He stood with her slowly, holding her by the elbow. She was shaking- whatever it was she'd seen had frightened her badly, and she did not seem the type to be scared by small things. "... was it the firedog?" he asked, looking down at her, concerned. Surely the thing new better than to approach the Citadel... unless it was intent on something. That something being either Tobias, or his dead girl.

The act of standing made her head spin. She was still out of breath, her heart still pounding in her chest. The grip on her elbow was all that steadied her from falling backwards again. At the mention of the firedog, she nodded and leaned against Avith, a hand curling into the cloak that hung over his shoulder. In a way, it was inappropriate to cry or hang onto him, but now that she'd done it she was unsure if she could stand without sinking again.

"It was outside the gates," she managed through hiccups and false starts. "It chased me."

He shifted as best he could to make sure she didn't fall right away, feeling her sway as they stood. He didn't expect her to collapse against him, and he took a moment to see if she would push away. That, he expected her to do. When she didn't do that, he pressed his hand gently to her shoulder instead, not seeming to mind, or at least be offended. He couldn't imagine pushing her away at such a time.

"Did it speak?" She seemed to be calming down. He hated to ask, but it was important to know.

Sigyn could only nod in response, wet nose sliding easily against the leather that covered his chest. The continued presence of something solid and unwavering that wasn't on fire had a calming effect. Only when her sobs had finally died down that she did push him away, gently. She rubbed her hands over the length of her face with a long sniffle and pushed her fingers through her hair in an attempt to calm herself further.

"It did," she nodded, winding the length of her hair in her hands before she let it fall away. "I didn't even know it was behind me, then it spoke and I ran.." Her sentence trailed off into a blank look devoid of anything but fear. The incident couldn't have happened more than ten minutes ago, but she remembered nothing outside of blind, white terror and throwing her shoes. "I threw my shoes."

He kept his startlement to himself, his hand pressed to her back, comforting and firm, while he glanced backdown the stairwell. Could Silas even come onto Citadel grounds? It was probable that he couldn't, or simply didn't wish to come into the Citadel for other reasons. He would not be well-received, after all. Avith could only imagine some hellhound repeat of the tragedy at the Hour.

She pulled away and he did not stop her, hand lingering on her arm only to make sure she stood firmly on her own. He rubbed at his chest while she pulled herself back together, trying not to make a face. Nothing he couldn't clean, but still... strangely, though he was always nervous about women crying, it hadn't been especially terrible, as it was when dealing with the Occia. Not that she ever much cried, but so often when they spoke now, she seemed on the edge of it...

"You... threw your shoes?" he repeated dumbly, not quite believing what he'd heard. He stared at her, then covered his mouth with a gloved hand to stifle a sudden urge to laugh. "...well. We'll... count them. As a loss. The Handmaiden should... have no problem. Replacing them." His voice sounded loud in the stairwell. He suddenly gave a glance down. That meant- yes, she was barefoot.

"Are you all right?"

"Like I was playing fetch," she said, tone bland. Why was he laughing? She could have died. "So he would run after them."

In retrospect, it seemed very clever of her. But her own intelligence was hardly comforting when faced with the fact she'd almost been chased down by a flaming, speaking hound. Her fingers lifted to rub at her eyes again before she looked behind her at the staircase. She still shook. "I think I am. Mostly."

It had been an insensitive thing to do, but recalling how she'd thrown her shoes at him, it almost made him laugh again, because he believed the hound would have fallen for it.

But it really wasn't funny, because it meant the hound was keeping a closer eye on the Citadel, and it meant more chance that Tobias would notice it.

"So you ran," he said, no judgement in his voice. Approval, perhaps. "But... why up?" He looked at her, and then reached out again to touch her shoulder, motioning for her to follow him up the stairs.

Up? She followed along behind him silently, bare feet making quiet slapping noises compared to the thunk of his foots as they climbed. Her arms were wrapped around herself to shield from the cold of the stair.. and keep herself together. Avith's lack of coddling was unexpected from what she'd get if she'd run into, say, William instead. In a way, his shortness was more effective. She did not have time or reason to dwell on the incident.

"It seemed safer," she finally said, voice soft. And it seemed safer too, that she'd found him instead of William. "And now I know it would have followed me to you."

He hesitated on the stair, looking back to her at her words. She held herself tightly, realized partly the reason, and as they took the stairs he undid the clasp to his own cloak and removed it, settling it around her own shoulders. The chill had been the reason he had put it on in the first place.

"In all truth... I hope to avoid it." He turned back, continued to walk up the stairs, then opened the door on level with the Cancellari's rooms and held it open for her. "It has a task. I would rather... it finish it. Than risk fighting it. As Wellington did." But if it was going to stalk outside the Citadel...

"Just for privacy," he said quietly, opening the door to his own room. "... you can sit on the bed." He moved in ahead of her, going to the cabinet and rifling through it. The clink of glass should have been familiar. He handed her a small glass with rum in it before he capped the bottle again and set about relighting the candle on his desk.

Sigyn was quiet the rest of the way up the stairs, chewing on what he'd said thoughtfully. The beast had a task? The sight of Avith's room left her momentarily distracted. It always did. Where Shayna was messier than a pack of pigs, he was the complete opposite. The room felt as cold and empty as the stairs. She sat on the bed without protest, hugging his cloak tighter about her. It was heavy and a familiar object, one of seven she saw near daily. There was some comfort in it.

The clink of glass drew her attention, brows raising at the glass set in her hands. She raised it to sniff at it before she sipped it, mouth twisting in surprise as it burned down her throat. Rum? It almost made her laugh, then. The Cancellarius had drunk all her whiskey and offered nothing in return. He'd been holding out on them. "Thank you," she said, voice hoarse. Her eyes trailed to the newly relit candle. "You said it had a task?"

It was a telling sign his habits, to note the bed was still made, signalling either he had not yet slept or had risen at some absurd hour before her return. The light did not make the room any cozier- it was a place to sleep and store his things and little more. He had spent more time reading the past two days than he had sleeping the past four. He shut the door behind them both.

"Better?" he asked, looking back to her, brow quirked before his forehead settled back into its usual lines. He removed his gloves and set them on the desk as well, glancing at the book before he turned his attention to her. The two things were not wholly unrelated, after all.

"It has a task. To find a woman. A particular sort." He rubbed his hands together absently. "It believes... that woman... or someone like her... resides within the Citadel."

The explanation turned her blood to ice again. It had jogged her memory. A hand went to her mouth, staring down at the dark contents of her glass. "It said it wanted to take me home." Her eyes closed again, cringing at the memory of the fire that poured from its mouth and the stink of sulfur that followed it.

"Where does it come from?" 'The Hold' could never be the answer. Not even the Duchess would employ such a beast to keep her in line; Katrin's views on Others were widely known. Her hand dropped from her mouth to clasp either end of Avith's cloak tighter around her, shivering.

He gave her a hard look, not meant for her, but it hardly seemed to make a difference. He looked away again, folding his arms in front of him where they were most comfortable, leaning against the desk. "It would not. The woman... the woman it seeks is dead."

He pushed from the desk, stepping back to cabinet. He shut the doors to it as some way to occupy his hands. "I do not know. It... is a fell beast. From another place. This, and yet not. Hellhound... is not inaccurate." He turned to look back to her. "The woman... cheated death. It seeks to..." he made a vague gesture, looking for words. "Bring her back. Its master told it so."

Her head tilted to look at him, puzzled. "How do you know all of this?"

It was a valid question. Had they met before? Is it what the other Cancellarius had learnt when he'd been fought and burnt? She was suddenly grateful that he did, however. Knowing what it sought lessened the fear that it would be back for her. "I'm not dead," she mumbled, and tipped the cup to her lips again. Amen.

Avith was silent a moment at her question, looking back to the candle himself.

"I spoke with it," he said finally. "I met it... by accident. I knew that I... stood no chance. Alone." Tobias was an able fighter. Avith had advantages, true, but he was not fireproof, and they had been outside the Hour's gates. He did not want to think what kind of help it could have called up.

"No," he agreed, and sighed. "But... it means. Someone is."

"Someone here?" She didn't know if she liked what he was insinuating. "An Other in the Citadel?" Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. It was not meant to carry into the hall. How could an Other possibly be in the Citadel? Wouldn't Cita have cast them out by now? A stab of guilt went through her at the thought - Cita hadn't thrown her out yet. It made her nurse her rum with a frown.

"What will you do about it? It was outside the gates." And if she hadn't been so clever so quickly, she might have been in another place by now. Did he realise that, she wondered.

His brow rose while he kept his eyes on the desk, giving a small sigh as he scratched at his forehead. "I have... had my suspicions. But I also wonder... what if that Other... is faithful still to Cita?" He passed his hand over the flame before drawing it away. "Do I have the right... to do anything? If they serve... if they trust, and love, as much. If not better. But it is impossible. They would be reviled."

He was quiet, then looked back to her, his expression blank as though he didn't quite understand what she meant. Then he looked away again, lips pressed flat. That was true. If Silas was stalking the Citadel now, if he perhaps did more than simply threaten, if she hadn't gotten away.

How complicated this all was. "Strange... as it may sound. It seemed reasonable. I might speak with it... but. If the Other stays. He may well... remain outside."

Her brows went flat with a frown. She was quiet for a moment, weighing both sides of the argument they appeared to be on. "There must be a reason she's dead. If she's here." The way Avith spoke was contagious. Every opportunity for a breath or pause that presented itself suddenly needed to be taken. "It's not natural to be dead. And still breathing."

Sigyn realised what she was doing and gave her glass a tiny scowl. "The dog is chasing people. If I hadn't gotten away I'd be in Cita's knows where by now!" She sucked her teeth and looked towards the door with a sour frown. "No big loss for the Citadel, I guess."

"She may not be," he said, folding his arms in front of him again. He didn't even know if it was true- he was going off of a harebrained idea that simply wouldn't let him be. And yet he could find no fault in it. He would have to approach her again, Sister Isvelle. And hope the dog satisfied itself elsewhere before it lingered too long here.

He blinked, looking back to her in surprise. He didn't say anything right away, covered his mouth instead. She was right. Many of the young girls at the Citadel would not react quite so quickly. What would happen then?

"But you did. And you are not. For which I. At least. Am glad." He looked over to her. "... the only one whose loss... would be felt. Is the Occia. And even that... not for long," he said softly. "I would... focus more. On being alive. Than being forgotten and dead."

It took a lot of willpower then, not to shout at him. To be told so plainly she didn't matter was hurtful and frustrating in one breath. She'd have missed him or Shayna. Or Brother William! It was disappointing to see the sentiment go unshared.

"You've made that abundantly clear," she said icily. "I will do that." The Citadel was a giant farce. It angered her that she couldn't even leave. The dog might be lurking. In the longrun, the organisation would be her ticket out of Balfour, too. She rose to set the glass down on his desk with more force than necessary and inhaled deeply to rally. "Thank you, Cancellarius," she snapped and turned to leave, his cloak fanning out and dragging on the stone behind her.

Her voice held a cold to it he was increasingly beginning to recognize. He looked down to the cup as she set it down with a loud tac sound, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Not all that difficult given her height. And he regretted what he'd said, or at least, how he'd said it.

When she turned, there was only the slightest pause before he stepped after her, gaining on her easily, catching her arm again through the cloak, but gently, a grip easily pulled away from. He looked at her, the anger she didn't even try to hide. And then, if she had not pulled her arm away, let go of it slowly.

"It will not bother you again," he said quietly, the words one sentence. "It has... overstepped its boundaries. And will be dealt with."

"Good night," he said, not even making mention of his cloak, turning back to the desk.

Her arm tensed at the touch, but she did not pull away. When his hand left her she rubbed the spot and frowned at the doorway in front of her. The idea that the dog would be dealt with was comforting, but also cold. It had scared other Initiates with just the sight of it, and it had chased her with the intent to take her somewhere else. How would it be dealt with? Even if his intent was to remove it from life.. he had not moved to do so. But she was not the Occia, she reminded herself, and Avith was not her Cancellarius.

The scowl she gave the floor was meant for someone other than herself. Whether it was Avith or Moirine or Cita, she wasn't sure. A hand rubbed at her face one last time, flinching at how raw her eyes felt. She should not have cried. "Thank you," she said finally, eyes lifting to toss a glance over her shoulder. He was still turned away. "There are not many people who would." Pause. "Deal with a firedog for my sake. Good night, Avith."

It was only when she got to the top of the steps that she realised his cloak still hung about her. The material was too heavy for her tastes and the fabric too long. Almost all of the Cancellari were impossibly tall, he among them. Sigyn paused. It was his duty to notice such things. After a moment of consideration, she gathered the end of his cloak in her hands so it wouldn't drag or trip her, and started down the stairs.