<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fd/Valdar.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong>Galvren Valynar (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234819.msg11585469#msg11585469)<br/><strong>Position:</strong>Valdar (Newly Risen)<br/><strong>Bondmate:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Theraeve Sedai, mentions Rhoven, Shayella and Kalain.<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Afternoon, Saven 6th, 990NE<br/><strong>Place:</strong>Southern District, near The Harbour.<br/><strong>Warning:</strong><br/><hr/><br/>Honestly? Thereave Sedai's reaction didn't surprise him for a single moment. For as long as he had known her, Theraeve Sedai had kind of despised most company that you could care to mention for a variety of reasons, and always appeared to have a prickly and rather fickle nature; despite the fact that he was probably one of the closest things to what she could consider a "friend," she didn't exactly act like it in front of most people. Oh, when she was in a good mood she would be relatively polite and chat with him in a warm, friendly manner and they would have an excellent time together....followed, most likely, by an "excellent time together." In the early days in particular, Theraeve Sedai would mostly be smiles and warmth and teasing flirtation, only occasionally broken by bouts of ill temper where anybody who approached her would be subject to her scarily varied range of deathglares and the extremely sharp, merciless side of her tongue. But over the years, it seemed to Galvren that her temper had become more and more short, her general average disposition becoming harsher and more aggressive...and that extended to her tastes in the bedroom, as well. Before it had just been hair pulling and scratching and biting and very rough, powerful ruts against the wall, but...well, he'd already related that whole "choking" thing. To each their own, of course, but the change in her demeanour had been distressing, to say the least. Oh, he had still maintained his good relationship with her and he had no illusions about the fact that she still valued him and still actually liked him as a person, and despite her dour and aggressive personality shift, she was still the same noble person underneath; as much as she attempted to disguise that part of her for whatever reason beneath her harsh exterior, she still had a heart of gold and was perhaps one of The Lights most devoted and honourable followers. He didn't care what anybody else said about her; she was brusque, yes, but she genuinely cared about people no matter what she said, and that trait in and of itself was rare. Yes, he was bias; she had saved his village, after all...but as of yet, he had seen nothing to contradict that side of her. That was why her attack on Kal from behind had been so shocking; precisely<em>because</em>she was righteous, honourable and caring, it was utterly contrary to her usual principals.<br/><br/>And thus, he didn't take offence when she fixed him with one of her savage glares and curt, dismissive one-word responses. She was prickly, yes, and fickle...but the very fact that she even treated him with a look at all was sign enough that despite her aggression, his company was - at least on some level - if not welcomed, then tolerated. If she honestly didn't want him around, she would either have ordered him to "Blight Off," as some would say, outright ignored him or even just punched him in the face and kept walking. The fact that she did neither was, in actuality, very encouraging...and that was where the whole "didn't act like a friend" came in; to outside observers, when she was in a bad mood she would frequently hurl all kinds of abuse at him, but it was simply that that showed how good their relationship was; she knew she could throw any hurtful words or looks at him that she wanted, and he wouldn't give up on her. Similarly, he knew that no matter what she fired in his direction, she didn't actually mean any of it and, inevitably, they would end up either venting her frustrations away in a very...carnal...fashion, or they would end up talking out what was bothering her over drinks. Or both. Mainly both, in actual fact, though it could just be that the "both" were the times that were the most memorable, so he had some recollection bias. Either way, they were close enough that no amount of harsh words were about to sour their relationship. You couldn't take much of the venom that Theraeve Sedai had very seriously; she had, as far as Galvren had gathered, been through a lot and was<em>dealing</em>with a lot. And if you couldn't stand by and grant patience to your friends...you weren't a very good friend. Did it sting a little to have such a baleful glare directed at him after two months apart? Of course it did. Did he let it bother him? Hell no.<br/><br/>The very fact that all he got was a glare and a blunt, dismissive brush-off answer showed that she was not, in fact, ok...and as much as she might have hated him for it at that moment, she would appreciate him persisting later. Most might have just left at that...not Galvren. Their relationship was different than that. She would be harsh and brusque, he would persist...and even if she didn't talk about what was bothering her, she would eventually - even if she didn't admit it - feel better for the company. Galvren knew her well enough to know that, at the very least. So, instead of simply peeling off and leaving her to her own probably miserable thoughts, Galvren sighed softly and opened his mouth to respond in some way; he had to break through the stiff, on-guard, brutally brusque outer shell she had before he could actually get anywhere in the conversation, and the only way to do that was to persevere and make it clear that he was going to stick around whether she wanted him to or not...but he never got the chance. Before he could even utter a single syllable of whatever he was about to say, he felt her hands closing around the collar of his shirt and a sudden powerful, rough, authoritative force pulling him sharply away from the main street and down what appeared to be a narrow, dingy side alley that backed onto one of the larger local taverns. Ordinarily his Warder instincts would have spurred him into action to repel the perceived attack, but as soon as his left arm shifted as if to move into position, he felt a sharp stab of lightning quick pain that forced him to wince and pause his actions long enough to be dragged elsewhere...and besides. Even in Theraeve Sedai's injured state, considering that she was a far better unarmed fighter than he<em>and</em>he only had one working arm...she would likely have been able to manhandle him regardless of what he actually wanted. Besides...as unhealthy as it may have been for a Warder, he was<em>used</em>to Theraeve Sedai doing things like that, so his automatic defences were, by conditioning, just a bit slower than they usually would have been...she always ended up taking charge, and by that point, even his body had become used to automatically submitting to her whims.<br/><br/>Case in point: despite the inappropriate time and location, despite the throbbing ache in his shoulder, despite the fact that she was half beaten and bruised herself, despite the fact that he knew on some level instinctively that she was doing this as an unhealthy distraction to avoid confronting whatever was eating her up inside, his body<em>almost</em>ended up just going along with what she was attempting to do. He<em>knew</em>what was likely coming from the sudden proximity of her body, the sudden tone in her voice, the dark, aggressive, primal look in her eyes that she always got when she just wanted a hard, rough rutting, and his body responded as if by itself; his heart instantly picked up several notches in its speed, his blood roared through his system, his skin heated up several degrees and even his manhood began to stand at attention...after eight years of her impulsive "sessions," after eight years of pretty much following whatever she wanted to do, after eight years of seeing that dark lust in her eyes...it was all it took to get his body, at the very least, ready and raring to go. He knew it wasn't specific lust for him, just lust in general, but somehow in some odd way, that made it all the more enthralling and thrilling; that he was just being used as some kind of disposable sextoy for her satisfaction was...well, it excited him, and he had no idea why. It was terrifying when he first discovered it, of course, but now? Now, he had gotten used to it, even if he still didn't understand it. It was just part of who he was. He got a thrill and a satisfaction out of knowing somebody lusted after him specifically, of course...but still. Being her toy did, at times, feel just as exciting, even if it meant that he wasn't all that enticing to her. In the early days, he had entertained the notion that she liked him<em>specifically</em>...but being somebodies friend and being attractive to them were two entirely different things, and sometimes it felt like she only used him for her "intimacy" because he was a warm, willing body who could be relied upon to follow her instructions...but he didn't mind. It was how she was, and if she ever decided that she didn't need him to cope with anything any more, then he would be ok with that. She was his<em>friend,</em>so her wellbeing came before everything else.<br/><br/>Which brought him screaming back to reality, even as his body attempted to seize control and force him to go along with what was happening; he focused sharply for a few moments, watching where she was dragging him. He lifted one of his hands - his right one; his left wasn't about to do anything productive, what with being tied directly to the movement of his left shoulder, which was already smarting from his sharp movement just a few moments ago - in an attempt to grasp at her wrist to stop her, to push her away and refuse to go along with this stalling tactic, to refuse to be part of her distraction until she was honest with him about what was going on...yes, sometimes she needed distraction, but she<em>attacked somebody from behind,</em>and not an enemy. An<em>ally.</em>That needed investigation, it needed discussion...it did<em>not</em>need a distraction rut, and as much as he was used to following her instructions, sometimes to be a decent friend, you needed to know when and how to say "no." He opened his mouth, just about to tell her that he wasn't going to be party to her delaying tactic, that he was there to talk and to make her feel better rather than distract her, when all of those thoughts fled his mind in one sharp, stabbing moment. She slammed him back into the wall, sending a shockwave of pain through his body, emanating from the back of his shoulder; though the bolt had hit the front, it had shattered the bones and the entire area of his shoulder was still extremely tender...not to mention, the entire movement of his body and the sudden arching of his back forces the muscles in his shoulders to move in an unnatural and rapid way, agitating both the bruise and the still-sore bones, forcing a sharp groan from his lips.<br/><br/>But he could have dealt with all of that; he'd gotten through worse waves of pain in some of his more intense sessions with Theraeve Sedai, and as a Warder he was trained to withstand levels of pain that would cripple a normal man, to grit his teeth and power through no matter the cost...no, he could have dealt with being thrust against the wall, even if it did make his brain spin for a moment as he attempted to get his bearings after such a sudden wave of pain. Already the ache had dulled to a throb after that sudden, rapid stab of sensation....it was what followed immediately after that<em>really</em>sealed that moment as one of the worst of his adult life. He knew what was about to happen, of course - he had had that kind of shove from Theraeve Sedai before - but it didn't really register in his brain until a split second after it happened...she pushed herself up against him roughly, her entire body crushing up against him in a barrage of uncaring brutality...ordinarily he would have loved the sensation, he would have revelled in feeling her beautiful, soft, fit, ageless body forcibly moulding itself to his own somewhat more rigid and hard form. Even if he was planning on pushing her away, he would have felt aroused and excited and intoxicated by her proximity, he would have felt a sudden need to do exactly what she wanted, how she wanted it, regardless of the consequences. He would have felt that familiar, overwhelming torrent of lust for her and her dominant ways, would have felt exuberant at the thought of being used and abused for her pleasure...he would have breathed her in, allowed his hands to sink into her waist as she did whatever the<em>hell</em>she wanted with him and he would have begged for more, if only it meant that he got to feel her close for longer. She was his first, after all, and was his oldest friend and - if he was honest - his oldest flame. Nothing as naive and idealistic as love, of course, but definitely affection. He would have felt all of that and more...but at the moment she shoved herself up against him, he felt nothing but<em>pain.</em><br/><br/>It wasn't her beautiful body that was the problem....it was her aggressive, sharply thrust-forward elbows, the ones that stabbed directly into his shoulders in order to keep him pinned that forced him reeling. If people bumping into him earlier had made him wince, if the shove into the wall had elicited a groan,<em>this</em>was even worse. As soon as her elbow stabbed into his left shoulder, the network of overlayed, interconnected bruises that covered most of his shoulder beneath his bandaging  exploded into life, the ever-present ache and throb replaced by a searing agony that flooded his entire body. The pain started at his shoulder, obviously, the entire bruised area suddenly feeling like it was on fire, as if it was about to burn through his skin and melt his bones, as if there was a torch being pressed directly against his skin, branding him, burning him, disfiguring him and then pressing forwards regardless, through his muscles and bone and out the other side of his back, thin tendrils of agony spiking up his neck and down his chest from the edges of the sore spots. The pain quickly spread, however, swiftly covering the entire upper half of his torso as the pain spilled out from the already overloaded nerve endings into the ones neighbouring them, then the ones next to those, then the next, his entire upper body now becoming a network of mind-shattering pain. His vision went black and it took his pain-racked brain a moment to realise that his eyes had screwed themselves shut as his body arched away from the wall as his back stiffened in response to the searing agony being directed up the spine...but that only put his shoulder closer to the elbow. He felt something against his lips but couldn't in his current state recognise what they were as a sharp, agonised cry of pain split the air between them.<br/><br/>Something wriggled into his mouth, something that he felt he should recognise, but the stabbing needles and fiery brands on his shoulder and in his head were too omnipresent to truly get any coherent thought out of them. His hands - pinned largely in place by Theraeve Sedai's aggressive lust - seized the first thing the could find - what felt like slim, toned handholds which were, in actual fact, Theraeve Sedai's lower sides, just above her waist - and<em>pushed</em>as hard as they were able, attempting to get the source of agony away from him as soon as possible. The effort of moving his left arm so forcefully sent spots dancing in Galvrens vision, his sight exploding from pitch black into a blinding white collection of dots and circles which quickly went fuzzy as his eyes lost focus, then returned, then lost it again, but the pressure on his front retreated. He attempted to take a step away from the wall, as if to remove all contact with his arm, but found his legs suddenly extremely weak. His knees buckled and he fell to one knee, reaching out with his right hand to steady himself. He felt bile rising in his throat, but fought it down, biting down on his lip<em>hard</em>to stop from crying out again. As it was, he had risked their discovery...he needed to minimise the risk of being heard above the general hubbub of the crowd. As it was, he couldn't hear any feet approaching to investigate...that, at least, was a good thing; at least no civilians would find them in such a compromising permission. He grunted a little. So....<em>that</em>was why Carella Sedai and Shayella Sedai had suggested he avoid unnecessary contact with his shoulder. Perhaps he needed to secure a sling or a cast to at least make it obvious that his shoulder was injured from now on. He felt his sword - the one he was required to carry at all times - weighing down on his side, but he ignored it. After getting his balance back a little, he lifted his right hand up to his left wrist, supporting it in place where it automatically curled into his chest protectively as he slumped to one knee.<br/><br/>He swallowed a few times, attempting to rinse his mouth of the taste of needing to vomit, and took several deep, steadying breaths through his nose. Yes, he and Theraeve Sedai were constantly utilising pain in their sex life, they both enjoyed it, they both kind of got off on rough play, but<em>that?</em>That was something else. There was<em>nothing</em>pleasant about<em>that</em>pain. He blinked a few times in an attempt to rid his vision of the swaying, swimming, fuzzy dots that it had collected, with only partial success; at least he could see shapes other than circles, now. With the pressure of Theraeve Sedai's elbows gone and the presence of the wall removed, the stabbing agony that had lanced through his body was now just a dull, tiring, sore ache. He groaned a little, then shook his head. Still painful....still agonising...but bearable. His entire body felt stiff and throbbing and achey and sore, and not in the good way...but he could manage. At least now the pain wasn't such that he couldn't even<em>think;</em>it was temporary, momentary pain from the pressure of having his bruise so directly struck....one that he was in no hurry to repeat, of course, but it was already fading back into its usual dull throb. He would probably need to return to the infirmary as soon as possible to get it double checked again, and it would likely feel stiff and sore with occasional stabs of pain when he moved for the rest of the day....but at least it was bearable now. He could<em>handle</em>this pain.<br/><br/>He opened his eyes, and lifted his head up to look at Theraeve Sedai, standing only a few paces away from him. He was breathing heavily, and now that he could think clearly again, he recognised the damp presence of a layer of sweat on his forehead. He grit his teeth, then attempted to get to his feet. He stumbled a little, then fell back onto one knee. Ok...so...knees were still weak. Baby steps were in order, apparently.<br/>"Theraeve....Sedai..." he said, between panting for breath, "Please....tell me what's going...on..." Despite everything he said...this was not like her. She was only this aggressive and reckless when something was<em>seriously</em>wrong. He might not know what...but he had known her long enough to be able to discern her moods. And right at that moment, he didn't feel inclined to humour her avoiding the question. He might not have shown it often, but he<em>did</em>have a spine. He was easy going,<em>not</em>a push over. "And with all due respect...don't....say 'nothing,' because we both know that's Trolloc Shit." He was still respectful enough to use her honorific, but....well, he was too caught up in the aftershock to really speak with the usual deferential attitude he usually did. He also tried to make a point of never cursing, but...well. When the situation fits. He knew Aes Sedai couldn't "lie" with their oaths, but they could definitely find ways around it, particularly if they answered a different question with an answer designed to sound like it was answering an entirely separate one. He looked at her again, restraining himself from wincing a little. "You know...that I won't...breathe a word of what you say....to<em>anybody.</em>" He lifted his right hand up to his shoulder, as if to protect it, his breathing slowly returning to something akin to a normal pace. "So<em>please,</em>trust me; What's going on?" He grimaced, then allowed his face to soften a little. In a smaller, less confrontational voice, he added, "I'm...I'm worried about you, Theraeve. Please, just talk to me." His tone was much, much more tender than it had been even when he had greeted her in the street; out there, he had had to retain the illusion of professionalism. Here? They were in relative privacy, and honestly, he was too worried about her to actually consider due caution right then. It was not the voice of a Warder addressing an Aes Sedai, a Bodyguard addressing a Superior. It was the voice of a concerned old friend, with just a touch of intimate affection. He knew Theraeve wasn't always comfortable with that tone, but he didn't care; they both knew that she was<em>not</em>ok, and he wasn't about to pretend that he didn't care. And we wasn't about to accept "I'm ok" or "nothing is going on" as an answer, either. Sometimes she genuinely needed a distraction rut...and others she needed to verbally vent. Now was one of the latter, and they both knew it. The only question was...would Theraeve Sedai<em>accept</em>it?