<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/c1/RedAjah.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong>Theraeve Valaim (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234819.msg11557599#msg11557599)<br/><strong>Position:</strong>Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah<br/><strong>Bondmate:</strong>n/a<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Kalain<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Late night, Saven 6th, 990NE<br/><strong>Place:</strong>Barracks<br/><strong>Warning:</strong>n/a<br/><hr/><br/>Theraeve had discovered something today. A kindred spirit? Hardly anything so poetic. More like she'd come across somebody who wrestled with the same affliction as she did. She knew nothing about him save for what she'd gleaned from the quips exchanged between blows, mainly that he was the most incredibly pretentious and patronizing bastard she'd ever met, and his past was even more of a mystery, but Theraeve had seen it behind those hardened blue eyes. That same familiar beast that she had to keep caged inside, the one that she'd lost control over after he refused to do the same.<br/><br/>Like a moth to the flame, Theraeve found herself inevitably drawn in. She'd tried distancing herself away from the tower, tried drowning the thoughts out with the hardest liquor offered at the tavern, but no matter what that throbbing at the back of her head persisted, like the hypnotic beat of a war drum luring her in towards some predestined battle. There was somebody else out there like her, somebody with whom she could finally let go of the chains tethering her demons, if only for a little while...and if only she could get him to do the same. Last time it hadn't worked out too well, but now after he'd had the entire day to stew in his anger, without any onlookers or meddlesome Sisters, Theraeve expected a different outcome.<br/><br/>Having had time to sober up over the last couple of hours, she stalked deftly and silently, keeping most of her weight on the balls of her feet to avoid any clicking from the tall heels that she'd chosen to wear. The halls were mostly deserted in the middle of the night, but she still took good care not to be noticed by anyone on the way to the Master of Arms' private quarters. Theraeve made it all the way to his doorstep before hesitating briefly as goosebumps sprouted up all over her arms, legs and the back of her neck. Her stomach suddenly churned with anxiety, twisting itself into burning knots as second thoughts came pouring into her head, some part of her psyche trying to convince her that this was a terrible idea.<br/><br/>Instead, it ended up serving as the final push that she needed, prompting her to knock zealously against the door before she could get a chance to change her mind. If and when Kalain opened the door, he would see Theraeve standing there, clad in a dark fuchsia silk robe with black trimmings. The hemline swept breezily over the floor, and the garment may have seemed rather demure if not for the way in which it hugged the contour of her body so snugly, leaving little doubt that little to nothing could be worn underneath.<br/><br/>Theraeve's hair was no longer completely disheveled, instead flowing in soft waves as it usually did, partially obscuring the left side of her face. The decision to leave her blackened right eye completely visible had been taken deliberately. For some reason, she believed that the predator inside of him would get excited at the sight of her bruises, marks left by his own hands upon her body. They would serve as a reminder of how good, how<em>liberated</em>he must have felt while inflicting them, and hopefully the same lust for more that Theraeve herself was experiencing.