A helping hand

Sunlight glistened faintly off the surface of the pond as it lazily rippled in the breeze. In the canopy above birds twittered happily and leaves rustled softly. Peace and tranquility, the day seemed to be made for it. A rare occurrence in the Tower indeed.

Gives me time to practice I suppose!

Jondin lay, legs crossed at the ankles, back propped against a tree, his harp, plain  and unassuming, resting in his lap. It had been an Age since he had played, even longer since he had had either club or ball in hand. He had often, during his time as a Hunter, spent hours upon hours, at night, playing the Harp, juggling or breathing fire, for the amusement of his friends and the villagers, where they would set up camp.

"Ella used to love 'Coming Home from Tarwins Gap'!" the thought brought with it a painful, nostalgic and self loathing twinge, as he began to strum the first bars of the song softly. 

Ella had been a Noblewoman of Andor and one of his few friends, a Hunter for the Horn, as he had been. She, like Ezril of Cairhien, Gorran of Illian and Darin of Andor, had been his friends and companions on that very short road, a road that had ended in a village known as Four Meadows.

"The Five Houses… Complete and utter nonsense!" he spat angrily, the tune changing with his mood, becoming something darker, less hopeful.

That day, over two years previous, had spun him out a new thread in the pattern, a different role in life. He would not grasp what that role was for many months but instead, float from town to town, playing Inns and Taverns for a bed and the alcohol he needed so badly. He could have course returned home, taken up his place as the Eldest son of the Noble House of Kern. But alas, wracked with guilt, fear and nausea, he had fled into the heartland and drowned himself in his sadness.

"I couldn't return home… Couldn't face the questions!" the tune shifted again, becoming sad, pitiful. The Harp wept as he played, wept for what had been lost that day in Four Meadows. "May the Light keep there brave souls and the Creator shelter them in the palm of his hand!"

He sighed as the soft, sad, funeral march began to wane and finally ceased. He stood slowly, sliding the Harp back into its case and slinging it over his back, bending to grab his coat from where it lay, folded atop the stone of the pond. Dusting a few blades of grass off his pants he straightened and stretched languidly. The past was dead and buried, the future was still to come and tonight, tonight was Sunday! 

---

He stood at the edge of the Grand Hall, sipping softly from a goblet of wine, his Harp now safely back in his room. His eyes scanned the crowd slowly, a small smile playing across his lips. He had oiled and straightened his small pointed beard to perfection, made sure he had pressed out every crease in his clean uniform and wore his hair bound up neatly. He wore a heavy signet ring on a leather cord, around his neck, depicting a Wolfs head set against the setting sun, his own personal seal. Beside it he wore his Family seal, a Bulls head over a set of crossed keys.

Jondin Kern, runaway Heir to the High Seat of Kern! his smile was both sour and regretful as he took another sip of wine, frowning softly.

He had not been sure whether the rings were strictly allowed but he had reasoned as long as neither was a Great Serpent ring, and he didn't actually wear either on his hand, he wouldn't be punished. He had done awfully well to keep out of trouble this long and he didn't want to start ruining that.

Indeed… There will be plenty enough time for that later on!

He smiled and switched his attention to the music, listening with astonishment as a rather crude song ended. He couldn't see the vocalist but the voice had been female. He shook his head with a wry smile and turned back to the table, about to pick up his goblet. 

"Only in the Whi…" he choked softly on his words as he was suddenly collided with from behind and stumbled, almost knocking the Goblet off the table. "What in the…?" he spun slowly, staring around confused. No one stood close to him.

He couldn't have imagined the shove could he? Or was it perhaps an Aes Sedai or Accepted using the Power? He didnt think so… The Aes Sedai did not abuse their powers and any sane Accepted would have known better than to do so in here.

A Novice then? Or one of the Black Tower?  he shook his head softly, perplexed and began to turn back to the table, before catching site of a small pile of white near his feet. Freezing in place, his breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the woman lying in a heap at his feet. Oh Light… It IS another Novice!

He dropped into a crouch beside her and attempted to make his face as apologetic and innocent as he could. He had not meant to knock her over. He had only been standing there. Trust him to get in the poor womans way.

"Forgive me please m'Lady. I did not mean to get in your way. Let me assist you to your feet?" he offered her his hand, smiling softly, kindly. "I sometimes get lost in my own head and cant seem to focus. Please forgive me!" He lifted her gently to her feet and smiled, bowing. "I am Jondin, Jondin Kern of Tear. At your service!" 

OOC: That was too perfect a post for me to pass by. :) Hey I am Robert or Bob, either one is fine and THIS is Jondin, my little, plain, unassumeing, boring Tairean Novice! :) Hope you dont mind me cutting in. Feel free to use Jondin as you like! :)