Cast: Raemira and Kyle
Background: For months now a man claiming to be Kyle Birnoas has been appealing to Raemira Sedai for a meeting with her; sending messages via her Keeper, letters, and basically throwing the Tower into an uproar of rumour over who this man truely is. For each petition returned to him in blatant refusal, the Amyrlin having claimed that her brother died when he was twelve, and that she saw him buried with her own eyes.
True, the man claiming to be her kin -looks- like he might be her brother; same green eyes, same auburn hair... but there are a lot of people who might want to get on the 'in' with such a powerful woman, people who don't have her best interests in mind.
Finally Kyle sent Raemira a package, and even Novices were adding their words on his behalf -- though this could of course had more to do with the fact that he's an intriguing man than his being kin of the Amyrlin's -- and finally he received a brief message from the Amyrlin: I will meet you, but you will never convince me you are he. With this note in hand, Kyle arrives for the arranged meeting.
Raemira smoothes over her skirts with her hands, sitting up regally within her chair. Her eyes move expectantly to the door as it opens, narrowing slightly at the figure shown inside. Her hands fold themselves upon the desk, and a brow quirks questioningly.
The door opens to admit a tiny slip of a Novice, followed by a grizzled looking man cloaked in black. The novice curtseys to you, her voice coming out in a small squeek. "Um, Kyle Birnoas to see you, Mother." With that, she curtseys again and is gone. The man however lingers by the door, running one hand through tousled auburn hair, his green eyes gazing at you intently. "Glad ye finally thought ta see me," the man grunts gently, studying you. "It's been... a while."
The Amyrlin continues to gaze intently at Kyle, her eyes seeming to bore into him as she keeps her body in a regal stance, "I cannot have the Tower continuing these rumors about someone who no longer lives." A slight pause, "It is time to put these rumors to rest and you to stop pretending." Stubborn in her views? More than a bit so. Her voice holds a steely note, as if she's not particularly keen on whatever joke is being played upon her.
The man who calls himself your brother stares at you with steely eyes, his stance set solidly. Then, the man who's been walking about the grounds for months now looking ready to bore holes in rocks with his gaze alone... laughs. Anyone who's gotten to know him over the past weeks would probably faint in surprise; but Kyle only shakes his head, and casts you a cocky smile, more reminiscent of his youth now than he has been in even twenty years. "I'm no' pretending, Raemy. I am now, as I always was, Kyle Juilin Birnoas." He shrugs a shoulder, sending the cloak about him to rippling softly. "Ask me anythin'."
"You could call yourself the bloody Dragon Reborn for all I care, but that will not change my mind child." Raemira's eyes seem to harden a bit more, as if setting her stubborness a bit more, "-And-, you may call me Mother, or Amyrlin. Not that rediculous name."
Now Kyle merely cocks a brow at you. Just being in the same room with you, after all this time of trying, seems to have put him in a better mood; but there are lines about his eyes, and a deep, hard coldness to him that speaks of a hard life his parents never desired for him. "Why would I call ya Mother?" Kyle asks amusedly. "Yer my -sister-. One of three, I might add. Now. You say you saw me buried. I never had ta scrape dirt from my ears, so I knows that didn't happen. I did die though, or close enough to. What say we start with that?"
Hard does Raemira's voice go, from steel to ice, daggers entering her eyes, "Because, -child-, I am the Amyrlin Seat. No matter who you are, you will address me properly or we will not be continuing this fantasy of yours."
Now Kyle's gaze does harden, and he gives you a stern look. "Until such point as I convince you I'm your brother," he says roughly, "I'll call you Amyrlin. But I'll no' call you Mother. That title is reserved for the one Ellouis Birnoas herself, an' she's not you." He paces a bit, casting you sullen green glances from under thick brows, his cloak swirling behind him. "I dunno where she is, I was hopin' to find out from you. Now." He approaches your desk with one fluid step, and places a single fingertip upon it. "Enough of this nonsense. What's I got to do to prove to you I'm your kin?" Kyle adds in a low voice, "You lost me once, -Amyrlin-. Do yas really want to lose me again?"
Raemira seems to smirk at the man before her, "There is nothing that you can do. My brother -died-. I was there. I saw it happen. Now stop playing games with me." Her resolve does not seem to be weakening, "I am a very busy woman and have very many things to do. YOu asked that I see you, so here. I see you."
"He did not die!" Kyle's voice booms through the room, and he takes a deep breath before calming himself. He waggles a finger at you then, again pacing as he speaks. "You saw him die, sure. In a duel. When he was twelve, eh? Yeah, I remember that day. T'was the last day of m'life in more ways than one, I'll tell ya that!" The firey man runs one hand through his hair, hair so much like yours. "The duel... was 'cause the man insulted Da'. But your brother, he didn't even scratch the man!" Kyle speaks more emotionally now, as though this is a burden he's carried -- and cursed himself for -- his entire life. Saying it aloud... it's just another way of replaying it to himself the way he's done every. single. day. "But the man... oh, he scored all right. Stuck his sword right through the lad, didn't he! Eh? Came out the other side, even! The lad went down like a load of bricks, stopped breathin' even." With one rough gesture he pulls up his tunic, revealing a long, dreadfully ugly scar on his abdomen... and a matching one on his back, as well. "And ye took him to the wise woman for burien'," he finishes softly, his eyes never leaving yours.
Very calm silence seems to answer the older man before Raemira. A brow lifts every now and again and she nods slightly at things being said. She lifts her arms from the desk and crosses them before her, not once allowing a hint of her emotions to pass over her features and looking almost... bored? How do Aes Sedai do that? "What you speak now could have been gleaned on any corner within Altara, if you were looking for information on how to best get to me child. I am not so easily fooled as to believe that my dead brother is alive and well, when he -did- die." Very calm does she keep her voice, unlike that of her brother. Perhaps she wants to deny herself the possibility of actually discovering he's alive. She lost him once, and if she does not acknowledge him, pain stays hidden..... far away from sight.
Kyle lets his tunic drop again, mercifully hiding the scar that marrs his abdomen. He continues as though not even hearing Raemira, his green gaze clouded as he recalls the memories. "Mayhap. But they wouldn't know that Wise Woman could Heal." He sneaks a glance at you, and an all-too-familiar smile quirks the side of hips mouth as he meets your gaze. "Ayep. T'way she told me, she brought me back. An' she tol' me you all left Ebou Dar, fer the shame I called on the family for failin' ya." His head bows, and he turns his back to you to stare across the room, brows knitted. "I don't blame ya all for that. She told me she wanted me fer her son. Ya remember, she was always moanin' about how she never had any children of her own... but I couldna stay. Left barely four days after I woke up."
Another long silence greets the room after your words, "We never left Ebou Dar in shame." Is it you, or do you think her voice is growing slightly softer? Perhaps just a trick. "My parents..." Not our, "Moved use away from that light blasted city because my -mother- was devastated after losing a child."
Kyle's figure, still with his back to you, straightens. He stands immobile to you, only his ruddy auburn hair visible over the long cloak he wears, curling slightly at the base of his neck where it's been trimmed short. Mother always did get annoyed the way his hair refused to lie flat anywhere on his head. Finally, Kyle turns his head just slightly, to regard you over his shoulder with a hesitant expression. "They weren't ashamed? They... they had to go 'cause of the reputation." He runs a hand over his face, pressing his lips as he tries to find words that do his memories justice. This is, after all, the belief he's lived with for thirty-two years. It's shaped who he is. "They could'na live with having a son who failed 'em."
"No, they were not ashamed." Raemira's words seem to form into a direct sentence, to drive the words home. "My father was proud of my brother for standing up for him." Raemira continues, looking hard at Kyle, while still refusing to believe -he- is her brother. "Very much so, but mother was not as strong as she let on... She was proud, indeed, that he fought. All mothers are from Altara. It's an honor to have a child die in battle...." There is that lingering but, as if it were just as devasting to see one just... die, even if it were in battle.
Kyle lets out a long breath, his brows furrowing, an intent look coming to his stony features. His voice comes, a deep, flat monotone. "I had no idea." He settles himself unconciously into a nearby chair, steepling his fingers before him, still shaking his head as though in denial. "No idea. I thought... I thought if I proved myself I coulda made it up to you. But my life took a different turn." His gaze does raise then, a steady look that indicates the things he's done aren't things he thinks you'd be particularly proud of. And... oddly enough, it's obvious that that's important to this man. He frowns then, deep in thought, obviously quite thrown by this news. "It... 't changes everythin'."
A brow quirks quizically at the man before her as Raemira keeps intently studying him. It has been years, decades, since she's last seen her brother 'alive'. The resemblances are there however, and slowly the doubt starts to wash from her features. She is not easily hoodwinked, but the emotion falling from the other man's features perhaps seems to convince her somewhat, though not entirely, "What... If I may ask..." Which she would anyway, "Do you mean by 'it changes everything?'"
Kyle lets out a long sigh, scrubbing his forehead with one hand as he slouches back in his chair. That, at least, hasn't changed. "I thought you were refusin' me all this time -because- you didn't think I was really dead, but that I was dead to -you-." He peers at you, his green eyes sharp, mirroring yours. "See t'difference? I figured t'Wise Woman -told- Mother and Da' she'd managed to save me, and you all had left anyway." A long silence follows, and the boy that was your brother makes a brief appearance in that brooding look. "You c'n imagine what effect that'd have on a lad of twelve." He casts you a half-hearted grin, "Even if he was as solid a lad as me. Anyhow. I spent m'life fighting duels like that one, doin' battle, convincin' myself I didn'a need you all... an' if I -did- run into yas again, I'd be the kind o' swordsman even Da' would be proud of. But it never worked... not really. And a few years back, a very pretty, very special woman, she convinced me I did need yas. So I set about lookin' for you."
A very slow, very careful nod appears to move in your direction, "I see..." Though clearly she does not. It is alot to take in at once, though she still seems to be holding back. "So this Wise Woman told you that my parents no longer held your actions honorable, that they were shamed." She still says that as if she does not believe fully.
"Ayep," Kyle responds, studying you now, his green eyes quiet and thoughtful. "You'd left two days afore I woke up, an' she told me she didn't know where. A'course, I wasn't about to follow." His gaze narrows then, quiet for a moment before his voice sounds softly. "You still don't think I'm Kyle, do you?"
"There is a possibility you could be." She does admit that at least, "And there is a possibility that you could be making up the whole story to get into my good graces." She is afterall the Amyrlin. It's not entirely an impossibility.
Kyle seems to consider that. "It's true I want into your good graces," Kyle finally admits, shifting slightly in his chair. "But not 'cause you're a big fancy Aes Sedai -- sorry -- Amyrlin." His green eyes narrow on you once more, and he speaks in level, soft tones. "If I am not who I say I am... how do I know Kyle got his front left tooth knocked out when he was ten, in the street before our house in a fight with that huge brat next door?" He arches a brow, leaning toward you. "You know, the one who wouldn't stop following you around. He right stopped after that. As a child, you had a doll, w'red hair like yours. You an' Kyle got into a fight one day, an' he ripped the doll's arms off. T'next day you tricked him into tripping into t'horse trough." He taps his temple, a rueful complement to your cunning even then. "In t'city, Kyle refused to let go of your hand for fear you'd get lost. But once ya did. Only for ten minutes, mind... but Kyle found ya under some steps. An' even though we've two younger sisters... ya never used to go to 'em so much as ya came ta Kyle when ya had a worry."
The Amyrlin does not let her resolve completely drop, though she does nod, very, very slowly, as if perhaps finally admitting to herself, at least that there is a very strong possibility, "So now that you've found me, now what?" She asks, eyes never gleaning a bit of emotion on her features, perhaps too afraid to let them come forward.
Kyle leans across the desk, his eyes intent on you. "You haven't said whether you think I'm yer brother. I have to know. If ya still don't... well, there's no convincin' ya. An' we can't continue here iffin' ya think I'm an imposter." There's regret to those green eyes, but he nods to himself.
The Amyrlin still seems to regally stare back at the man before her: her brother. "I cannot deny you are who you say you are." She speaks, after another long pause, silence ensuing. "There is just too much that's been said for me to think otherwise." Her voice hardens slightly, "However, If I -ever- find evidence to the contrary, you will wish you've never spoken those words to me just now, not a single one of them, and that your father never stole that first kiss from your mother." She looks very serious and very much like she'll fulfill that particular promise. She's turned into quite the formidable woman.
Formidable or not, Kyle grants the woman across from him a cocky grin. It'd be easy to get the sense he's never paid much attention to authority. "Ya aren't much of one for teary reunions, are ya Raemy?"
"You will still call me Amyrlin" She keeps her voice hard, as if to keep back those emotions, "And showing emotion, much less any other sort of weakness around here, might get you into more trouble than it's worth." She smirks slightly.
Kyle leans on the table behind which you stand, all barriers down, completely intent in his sincerity. "Ya can know right now Raemy," he says earnestly, still using that affectionate name for you he used as a child, "Ye can know right now that I'd never use yer emotions against ya. An' even when you were eight ya had less weaknesses than most people grown, I'll tell ya that. But yer my sister. An' although I'll concede ta callin' ya Amyrlin in public, in fronts a' all yer people, I'm refusin' ta call you by an impersonal title when I'm talkin' to ya like this. I didn'a come all this way to discover my lil' sis has turned into a livin' statue, emotionally dead. I've lived like that long while, Raemy. I don't want you to have to." A genuine concern touches his green eyes then, softening them.
"Oh. I am not dead emotionally, I just do not show them anymore... much." Raemira murmurs, "Only one person gets to see the fullest extent of those emotions and that is my bond, Coerel Gaidin." She watches you carefully as she announces her bond's name, "Unfortunately he is away from Tar Valon at this time, working on something rather important for me." Again she still watches, then starts to consider something, "You would do well to watch your step about here. One of the Aes Sedai might take it into their heads to ask you to bond."
Kyle gives the back of his head a scratch, his gaze slightly sheepish. "Ah. Um hmm. Is that why all the womenfolk's been so attentive aroun' here?" By the rumours he's found that out the hard way, and has been avoiding the women like they carried some sort of a disease. "I's been telling 'em I'm here for one purpose, an' one only. Besides. I'm not that sorta type, fightin' for a big cause an' such. I fight for me. I learned that early, an' after all these years I think it's my way."
"You'd be fighting for whatever cause your Sedai fights for, should you ever bond." Raemira speaks, her eyes taking on an unsettling appearance, "And yes, some of the newly raised are looking into finding themselves a Gaidin. I hear that a few of the Greens always look to add new ones to their.... collections." She keeps her voice calm and steady as she speaks, eyes moving over Kyle quietly, not in the same manner that Ashlynn does men, always seeking new bonds, but as a sister to a brother. "I would just be careful, some of the students like to hook their claws in early and have one waiting for them when they finally raise. I'm certain they'd most likely flock to you even more, should they find out the truth that you are indeed my brother."
Kyle's steady gaze meets yours, showing the strength of will that has kept Kyle alive through so many years, that has led armies of thieves, assassins and cut-throats -- but also mercenaries and infantrymen too. There can be no doubt he means what he says when his low, powerful voice sounds. "I am part of no one's collection. My heart belonged to a woman, once, but she left me. This is what made me realize I had to search you out. The only thing that ever got its 'claws' in me was a Trolloc, and he died for it. I do not intend to become some woman's pawn for her work for the Tower. I work for -me-."
Raemira merely gives a shrug of her shoulders, "Of course" She speaks quietly, intently watching Kyle, "If you will excuse me, Master Birnoas, the hour is growing late. I was not lying when I said I am a busy woman. I still need to finish all of this paperwork before me before I even think about sleep." You'll notice a very large stack of papers sitting on Raemira's desk.
Kyle's emerald gaze doesn't leave you as you begin to take a more formal tone, watching you for a moment before inclining his head. He turns toward the door, but pauses, glancing over his shoulder. "I am... glad... to have kin again, Raemira." Something in his tone, his sideways glance, the set of his shoulders, tells you that that was a hard statement for the man to say.
A brow seems to raise in response to Kyle's words, and silently does the Amyrlin nod in his direction, "I am certain that our parents will be glad to know you are alive... after all this time." This time she used 'our' as if she has accepted that possibility.
Kyle mutely pauses, omitting that silent question... 'are you?'... and with two quick, fluid steps, he slips from the room and the door settles with a soft click behind him.
---------------------------------------------------------------- Group: White Tower Title: A Secretive Meeting ---------------------------------------------------------------- Late last night, a lone Novice was seen escorting a certain Kyle Juilin Birnoas -- the man claiming to be Raemira's brother -- to the Amyrlin's office. Had the fateful meeting finally arrived? Was Kyle finally successful in convincing the Amyrlin Seat to see him? Evidently so, but the Novice who escorted him reports that Raemira Sedai looked colder than an icestorm when she brought him in. Is this man truely her brother? If he is... was he successful in convincing her of it, when she -saw- the boy dead and buried thirty-two years ago? This nobody knows; the only news is that said meeting lasted well into the night, long after most other Towerfolk went to bed, and that Kyle Birnoas left silently, alone, when the moon was high. ================================================================