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Books » Wheel of Time » The Saving of a Traitor
ravenhaired
Author of 40 Stories
Rated: T - English - Drama/Angst - Reviews: 6 - Published: 02-13-04 - id:1730251
The Saving of a Traitor

Disclaimer: I don't own the Wheel of Time

Author's Note: I haven't written anything in *ages*. A bit strange. I think this is categorised as an 'alternate universe'.

~

Flidais Navan pushed open the cell door. The short Cairhienin was immaculate, black hair brushed until it shone, running half way to her waist, green kesiera draped elegantly in her soft black curls and a low- cut dress, deep blue, as was her favourite colour. The cut was daring, she reflected, but Flidais had no doubts in her assets.

The light shone into the cell, shining on a naked woman chained to the wall. She moaned when the light hit her, burying her head in her shoulder and whimpering. Flidais wasn't sure if it was the fear of another beating or because her eyes hurt due to the lack of exposure to the light.

"Leave me alone!" The other woman's voice rasped, weak and hoarse, yet still fierce. "I'll tell you nothing!"

"Hush, Evalana," Flidais murmured in reply. She suppressed tears at the sight of her once closest friend beaten and hounded like a dog. Aes Sedai did not cry.

"Flidais?" Evalana peered at her and then smiled bleakly, her lip trembling. Tears where running freely down her face. "My friend . . ."

"Your friend," Flidais agreed absently, coming forward. She channelled briefly, weaving fire so that the candle she carried began to flicker. She noticed as she got closer that her friend's body was thinner than she remembered and covered in a veil of sweat. She shook uncontrollably and her eyes where brighter. Too bright, Flidais noted.

Flidais set the candle on the ground silently and pulled off the cap of the waterskin she carried. Gently, she pressed it to Evalana's lips and the other woman drank thirstily, covering Flidais' hand with her own manacled one and pressing all the liquid from it. Water that missed her mouth ran in rivulets down her chin, dripping onto her bare breast. She eventually let her hand drop, the exertion of lifting the weight of the chains tiring her. Flidais cringed inwardly, as she realised she still felt something for this woman. A strange tightness had formed in her chest and a prickling occurred in her eyes. She looked away, brushing away tears.

"Why so sad?" Evalana murmured. She was gazing at Flidais through half- closed eyes. Her eyes, or what Flidais could see of them, where hazy and filmed.

"Evalana . . ." Flidais began softly, reaching out to touch her cheek, unable to keep the affection out of her voice. "Why did you do it?"

Evalana suddenly sat up straight, with renewed energy. "What have they been saying?" She demanded harshly, her voice cracking, gripping Flidais in a surprisingly strong grip.

Flidais had decided before hand that she would not tell Evalana anything. Her resolve crumbled and Flidais' voice trembled. "They say . . . you tried to . . ."

"Assassinate the Amyrlin," Evalana finished flatly.

"Yes,"

Evalana sighed. "Even you don't believe me, do you?" She continued anyway, not waiting for an answer. "I don't blame you, Flidais. If I had not heard what I heard . . . Sierin Vayu is a Darkfriend,"

That firm pronunciation, combined with the semi-darkness made Flidais shiver. She touched her friend's leg. "You're freezing," Flidais muttered, "Here," She removed her heavy navy cloak and draped it about Evalana's naked form. Evalana almost unconsciously relaxed and her shivering lessened slightly. Yet the cold sweat on her forehead reappeared a few seconds later after Flidais wiped it away with her handkerchief. "You're feverish," She said, disapproval evident in her tone.

"You're trying to change the subject," Evalana said wryly. She coughed – wracking coughs that shook her body and she slumped forward weakly into Flidais' arms. Her cloak fell away and Flidais gasped. Dark bruises and scratches covered Evalana's back, some still bleeding and half-healed. One looked as though it had been made with a pitchfork, leaving burning trails the whole way from just below Evalana's back to the middle of her back.

"Oh light," Flidais whispered into Evalana's hair.

Evalana laughed weakly, her cheek pressed against Flidais' neck. "The Amyrlin Seat does not like attempts on her life. Between questionings about my motives, she gets rather . . . physical,"

Flidais gripped Evalana closer. "That's barbaric," She whispered fiercely.

"Barbaric? She calls it poetic justice. Fitting, she says, for a Darkfriend assassin," Evalana's voice broke suddenly and she began to cry, burying her face in Flidais' shoulder. "What am I going to do?" She moaned. "What . . . has there . . . been . . . ?"

"A public switching strapped to the traitor's triangle and an execution,"

Evalana made a choking sound. "Oh light,"

Flidais only held her close and stroked her hair. After a few moments, she felt Evalana kissed her neck. "No . . . Eva . . . I don't . . ."

"Please," Evalana whispered, her voice wrecked with pleading.

Flidais hesitated and when Evalana kissed her neck again, she offered no resistance. Evalana grunted with exertion, lifting her manacled wrists. Flidais pressed her backwards.

A little while later, Evalana lay quiet in Flidais' arms. She wasn't shivering anymore, though her forehead was still beaded with fevered perspiration. Flidais shifted and murmured: "Evalana?"

"Mm?"

"Are you telling the truth?"

"Of course,"

Flidais sat up, still hugging Evalana. "I believe you,"

"Pity no one else –" Evalana's face went slack in disbelief. She leaned back and gaped at her stomach, where Flidais' dagger had cut a long gash. "Why?" She managed to gasp.

"I did not want to see you die the death of a traitor," Flidais replied simply.

Evalana looked torn – her face was a mixture of disbelief, anger and . . . relief? Red liquid crept down her abdomen, a strange contrast to her deathly pale skin.

"I love you, Evalana," Flidais said quietly, kissing her friends forehead as she sank limply to the ground. She looked strangely peaceful.

Flidais cleaned her dagger with the handkerchief she had previously wiped away Evalana's sweat. She threw it down and stepped back, slipping on her dress again. As she slid on her shoes again, she paused briefly to memorise her friends face.

Then she swung her cloak around her shoulders and closed the door on the cell, locking it. She fingered the keys absently. She would have to thank Laras for giving her them.

She turned calmly and began her climb back up to the main part of the Tower.

~

The End

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