An Honest Mistake (Ja'varan, Alec, Lyanna)

[Lannie]

OOC: A few notes before this post. First of all, it's technically still pending renewed SG approval - but because it was approved last year already but this RP was postponed due to inactivity, I think we should be fine here. We're on a tight schedule before One Last Stand so I hope it's okay we're starting already.

Secondly: Since some people thought that I might be doing the unforgivable thing in having two characters walking around while Lannie's on her way to death, I'd like to note here that this RP is an important wrap-up before One Last Stand and that I'm keeping my new character Vivien on ice before this all is taken care of. Thank you for ruining the fun, here's the wrap up that is badly needed to make sure the Main Timeline in the WT runs smoothly. -Lannie

 

 

An Honest Mistake

 

My old friend

I swear I never meant for this

I never meant

Don't look at me that way

It was an honest mistake

~ The Bravery, "An Honest Mistake"

 

It started with a bath, as a lot of things in Lannie's life did. Ever since she had a little girl the most influential woman in this part of the country had been fond of bathing, for it gave her time to relax and think things over in a non-rushed way between sweet-smelling soap bubbles. For some reason it always seemed like Lannie had her best ideas while soaking in scented bathwater. She had reasoned a long time ago that her brain just worked best when her body let go of its tension, and perhaps this truly was the case.

 

On this particularly early morning it was the weekly free day and there would be no petitions on this morning. There'd be a Hall meeting tonight, but apart from that there would be some time for relaxation and catching up on paperwork. Lyanna was still downstairs in the Yards, going through the forms and getting herself into shape, but Lannie had gone back earlier this morning because she fancied a bath and it was a little too cold outside for her liking, no matter how hard she trained. They had joked about old bones susceptible for cold, of course, but the idea made Lannie a bit uneasy sometimes. What if it were true? She was old. Usually she did not notice all that much if she was busy with work and surrounding herself with the Hall Sitters, who were not quite as old as she are, but far past a normal human lifespan as well - but with her warders around, she keenly felt it sometimes. Especially the girls: Alec and Syl were just so young. It was in the way they moved, how they talked, in the healthy sheen in their skintone, the sparkles in their eyes. There just was an energy to them that Lannie had lost along the way a very long time ago. It ached, sometimes. But then again, she'd had her days, she'd had her own youth. Why yearn for something you have revelled in already? It was not like she had ever missed out or anything. Still, it was an oddly sobering thought.

 

She floated in warm bathwater while around her the soap bubbles glittered in rays of sunlight that fell through the window on the other side of the room and the winter winds whistled softly around the Tower. It was a little peace on an early morning and Lanfir allowed her consciousness to float around, as well. She followed her bonds to see what her gaidin were up to. Strong, glittering lines of shared feelings, shared goals and respect, were connecting her to three individuals in this Tower. Jerad and Syl were downstairs in the yards - sparring, as far as she could tell. She was glad to note that Jerad, after his first hesitations, had finally started to take to the young woman Lanfir had bonded just before her raising. He was drilling her in the use of other fighting styles than she was used to, because he believed a gaidin should be versatile rather than perfect. Alec, who had mentored Syl herself, had just smiled at this and agreed graciously with Jerad teaching the younger girl. "It shouldn't hurt," she had remarked with a slight shrug, and let them. From Lanfir's position in the bath, Jerad seemed to have the upper hand in their spar, earning Syl a few nasty bruises. She felt determination and concentration from Syl, and sometimes short flashes of embarrassment. Still, it seemed that they were working together and that was something to be thankful for.

 

Her other bondmate was a little bit closer. Alec was sitting in the room next to Lanfir's bathroom, insisting that there should be at least someone with the Amyrlin always. These were dangerous times, they all knew. The sunlight glinted on the bracelet around Lannie's wrist - a bracelet that was quite a bit more than it seemed to be. The outstanding proof that there was indeed a very real and present danger in the White Tower, and one that represented another bond of a very different sort. It connected her to Ja'varan... or should she say Serashada? Sometimes she was not quite sure whether the Forsaken knew, herself. Two women, one body, and a lot of power and shadows. She just called herself a Chosen and kept it at that.

 

No wonder that Alec wouldn't leave Lannie alone. It was a shield that wouldn't help her against the full might of the Forsaken's grasp of saidar (as Lannie knew all too well, for she had felt the true brunt of it quite painfully), but it gave her a safe feeling to have at least one of her gaidin around at all times. Jerad and Syl were in Lyanna's vicinity, and that was the way it should be. Lya was very close to Rosheen the Tower Guard these days and was contemplating a bond, but until it got to that point, Lanfir was more than happy to share her gaidin with her lover.

 

She reached out to the chamomille-scented soap that she generally used to wash her hair with and was just lathering up her long white tresses when the knock on the door came. "Mother, Mother!" a young and urgent voice called. "I'm sorry to interrupt but Mother are you here?"

 

"I am here, what is up?" Lanfir called back to the novice or accepted outside the door.

 

"There's a Hall meeting, Mother. They've rescheduled tonight's meeting to twenty minutes from now. Lyanna Sedai said to get you. She's on her way back from the Yards right now."

 

Oh blood and ashes, so much for my long bath. "That's fine, sweetheart. Thank you for telling, please report I'll be there on time." I'd better hurry.

 

She quickly rinsed out her hair and towelled off. She was only dressed in bathtowels when Lyanna swept in, obviously having washed and dried herself with saidar, judged from the frizzy and unkempt way her midnight hair was in- and in search of her shawl. "I can't believe that they'd reschedule this abruptly," her sweetling muttered angrily. "And without notifying me!"

 

"Perhaps they couldn't find you because you were in the Yards, sweetling," Lanfir said gently, while she took off her a'dam bracelet to slip into the bodice of a red-and-white gown. She tossed Lyanna a hairbrush (who caught it deftly) and plaited her own wet curls so they would be out of her way and presentable enough for a Hall meeting.

 

It was hurried rushing, but they had been working together for so long that they were right on time. "Do you want me to come along, Lanfir?" Alec asked, when they were on their way to leave their shared quarters. "I could stand guard at the Hall, if you want."

 

"It's okay, Alec. Thanks for offering. We'll be with the Sitters. Just relax a little this morning. Hopefully this thing will be over soon."

 

"Okay," her gaidin nodded. "Good luck."

 

Lanfir and Lyanna left their rooms. Neither of them noticed that their wrists were bare, and that the silver bracelet had slid off Lanfir's dresser and underneath the cabinet, without either of them thinking to put it on once more.

 

It was an honest mistake. And it would soon prove to be a dire one.

[Lyanna]

The sun was shining brightly, but the air was cold nonetheless. Syl and Jerad were off to the side practicing, and while Lyanna knew that Alec was with Lanfir, she still felt that Lanfir had better had all three of them with her. As Keeper, she was more or less disposable, but the Amyrlin had to be protected at all costs. Especially with Ja'varan up and about.

 

The bracelet rested firmly on Lanfir's wrist today and Lyanna was glad that all she had to do until nightfall was go through her moves, do some paperwork and not worry about the mixture of distorted feelings that came tumbling through the bracelet. She had been bonded before to Mikalen, and while she might bond Rosheen now, she still felt as if the jumble in her head that represented her bondmate was an intrusion of some kind. It was not very green-like, she knew, and most of her Ajah Sisters (or former? sometimes it was so difficult to discern where the truth lay) had bonded multiple warders at the same time, but Lyanna never had been your typical green. It was all about the fight for the Light to her, as it was for most Greens, but she did not necessarily connect that with multiple bonds. And certainly not with one like Ja'varans. It was so difficult to keep her in check, and to go about your days with that invariable stream of anger, resentment and fear in your head.

 

Just as she was about to engange into a fight with an imaginary adversary, whirling her quarterstaff around, she came face to face with a blushing Accepted. The butt of the staff halted within inches of the bright eyed girl, and Lyanna swung the end down and stuck it in the sand before her, leaning on the upright end. "What is it child?"

 

The Accepted made a hasty curtsey and then informed her that the Hall meeting which had been planned for tonight, had been rescheduled and would take place in 20 minutes. "And on whose authority was it rescheduled then?" Lyanna asked pointedly, but the girl didn't know. "Inform the Amyrlin at once, and I will be on my way." The girl scurried off with a nod, and Lyanna gritted her teeth.

 

This was preposterous. She was in charge of planning meetings, and someone had very obviously wanted to throw another offense at her. It was diminishing, but every once in a while the Sitters still loved to point out that her raising to office had been surrounded with a lot of disrespect and - Lyanna hesitated to think it even - dishonesty.

 

She threw the quarterstaff against the fence and asked Syl to take care of it, while she walked off towards the tower in very brisk paces. After the ascention to her quarters, she barely had time to slip into some representable dress and clean herself with the One Power, which left her feeling less than clean and with a braid that looked like a cat's bristled tail. And then barged into Lannie's private bathroom where her lover was already slipping into her own dress and plaiting her wet white strands.

 

"I can't believe that they'd reschedule this abruptly,and without notifying me!"

 

Lannie, always the gentler one in cases like these, offered: "Perhaps they couldn't find you because you were in the Yards, sweetling,"

 

Hpmf. Lyanna wasn't too sure. The two of them hasted themselves on their way, with Alec remaining in their quarters. This had better be good.

 

Lyanna al'Ellisande

Keeper of the Chronicles

 

 

-------------------

OOC: As Lanfir already stated, this is one last wrap up of a very important plotline before both our characters kick the bucket. We've already gotten approval for this from the WT DL and the WY DL, and SG is on it's way.

 

I am not putting my new character Irina on ice for the very simple reason that I have gotten the go to start her from the WT Freshers Admin since I had resolved how Lyanna's ending would come to pass. The same curtesy has been extended to others before, such as Marce, and is therefore not a breach in protocol which some seem to believe.

[Katrinya]

Ja'varan, Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah, experienced veteran of centuries, servant of the Dark Lord, Chosen - Forsaken - strode the corridors of the Tower, a perfect Aes Sedai mask of serenity in place to hide her tumultuous feelings. The past months had been beyond horrific for her. Captivity. A simple slip, the tiniest mistake - everything had been going according to plan! Certainly, Lanfir had deduced her true identity in a moment of unusual insight, but that should have been easily taken care of with a bit of Compulsion and some careful monitoring. So she'd gloated a bit before applying the weave to make the Amyrlin forget. Who could blame her? Serashada outshone Lanfir as the sun outshone a candle. Her strength - impressive for this day and age - barely presented even a nominal threat. She'd overwhelmed the leader of the modern world effortlessly. So, why, then, hadn't she thought to look over her shoulder? If Lyanna had been so foolish as to channel, Ja'varan would have crushed her easily, put her under the same weave of deception as Lanfir, dusted her hands, and waltzed out. Yet she hadn't channeled. Instead she'd simply crept up silently from behind and knocked her out with a vase. The humiliation of it was unbearable, and if she hadn't hated them both as much as she did, the Keeper's clear thinking and unconventional assault would have earned her a glimmer of respect.

 

There was no room for respect beneath the pure loathing she felt for them both. Killing her outright would have earned her rebirth under the Great Lord's blessing - reduced perhaps, but still more than a match for the pair of chits and their infantile mechanisms. Instead... she put her hand to her throat, withdrew it before touching the delicate necklace that lay there. Early experience had taught her better than to touch it. Never had she heard of a ter'angreal so singularly capable of reducing a channeling woman to utter helplessness. And it was unescapable! She could not channel without their permission, attempting to remove the necklace was an excellent way to writhe in agony, and Great Lord protect her, the pain they could inflict! They knew exactly where she was at all times, how she felt, maybe even her thoughts themselves. Necessity had forced them to allow her to move freely around the Tower lest her disappearance raise suspicion, but Ja'varan knew all too well the price of attempting to leave. The price of defiance. Such pain as she had never known... and that was before they'd introduced her to the Chair of Woe.

 

She lay trapped in darkness, the cold walls of the storage shelf, air pressing in on her on all sides, long since failing to recognize the screams echoing off the narrow metal walls as her own. Starvation and dehydration racked her, her dessicated form fouled with her own waste. A thin tube lead into a vein in her arm, providing her with just enough sustenance to stay alive, though nothing like what she needed to stay healthy. Her arms lay crossed over her stomach, legs straight, wrapped tightly in a shroud-like fabric prison. Movement was impossible. A strap held her head immobile to the slab. How long she'd been there, she'd no idea - an eternity since they'd forced her screaming onto the metal tray and slid her into what the operators simply called Storage. A wall of lockers identical to her own, just large enough to contain a human adult with only a few inches on all side, resonant with the screams, moans and gibbering madness of its occupants. Insanity wracked her. Light glimmered in the total, absolute darkness. She ranted and she raved. She screamed, wept and fouled herself without noticing. And then there was the awful knowledge that sometimes prisoners were left in this inky hell for years, decades, never again to emerge..."

 

Ja'varan blinked and found herself leaning on a wall with one hand. Sweat had broken out on her forehead, and she was trembling. Those "memories" were thanks to Serashada, the most notorious horror she'd committed during the War of Power - though it was hardly the only one. Thousands of men and women had been interned in those rectangular coffins at her command, to be released at her whim, insane, twisted shadows of their former selves. Semihrage had her methods of ensuring total submission, Serashada had her own. As a method of extracting information from the most powerful of leaders, only Semirhage's weaves could rival the nightmare of Storage. That was what the Chair of Woe had shown her. The secrets she'd given up afterwards filled her with shame.

 

"Are you all right, Aes Sedai?" Ja'varan jumped, and turned to see an Accepted peering up at her with mixed trepidation and concern. The temptation to rip the girl apart was overwhelming, but like most of her desires these days, unacheivable. "I'm fine, child," she gritted out. "Now run al-"

 

Her eyes went wide. For the first time in months, the looming presence of Lanfir or Lyanna on the other end of the a'dam link was gone. A trick? She hesitated, wondering. The link remained empty. Ja'varan steeled herself- this was the chance she'd been waiting for, and she wasn't likely to get another one. The Accepted was still looking at her, clearly unsure whether or not to fetch a Yellow. "Actually, child, there is something you can do for me. Do you see the necklace I'm wearing? It has a... rather unusual clasp, and very difficult to unfasten on one's own. You will help me unfasten it, and maybe there will be some sweetcakes waiting for you later."

 

Sweetcakes her Forsaken hiney, but the little fool's eyes lit up at the mention of them. It took a moment for the girl to puzzle out the mechanism of the clasp, but eventually there was an audible click, and the seemingly innocuous piece of jewelry slid off and into her hand. Ja'varan placed it into her pocket with as much dignity as she could muster. Tears of joy threatened. Finally. Freedom. She barely saw the Accepted's curtsy and cheerful departure.

 

Mastering her emotions, she straightened to consider her options. Now what? She could flee, of course. Take her horse from the stable, ride to the countryside, open a Gateway someplace no one would detect the residue and Travel to wherever she pleased. By the time Lanfir and her frizzle-haired idiot lover even knew she was gone she'd be on the other side of the continent. Or... or she could make them suffer. Oh yes, they would suffer. Serashada didn't have Semirhage's talent for exquisite agony, but she knew a few of her more basic... very uncomfortable weaves. And when she was done with them both, she'd put the collar on Lanfir and see how SHE liked it. After Compelling Lyanna to fling herself off a Tower balcony. While Lanfir watched. The tragic suicide of the Keeper, which no one saw coming, and if the Amyrlin looked a little worse for wear afterwards, who could blame her? The Amyrlin would dance as a puppet to her tune - Mesaana would love this, oh yes. And maybe the Chair of Woe would find a new occupant. Lanfir didn't have Serashada's capacity for withstanding guilt. She could watch, helpless, as her lover flung herself to her death... again. And again. And again.

 

With a laugh that sounded a trifle mad even to her own ears, Serashada set off towards the rooms of the Amyrlin.

 

OOC- Mwahahahaha. ;) I hope this satisfies you girls.

[Sirayn]

Ooc: I think I’ve had a memory breakdown. I don’t remember if we discussed if Alec knows about everyone’s favourite collared Forsaken and I also took a wild guess at the manner of her entry at the end … but if either of those assumptions are wrong, consider the relevant scenes only a placeholder for the right stuff. :D

 

These days she had stopped caring about what other people thought, shut into a demanding routine of hard work and duty far removed from small concerns, but all the same … sometimes she heard whispers. It wasn’t that she was stupid, although Alec had heard that before, she was quick witted enough when it suited her. It wasn’t that she lacked ambition either: dear Light no. She had fought every step of the way to get here, tempered herself from a nobody into a warrior, even held down Grand Master rank briefly though she’d resigned that along with everything else. She had other obligations now. No, what had quietened Alec FitzJagad down into a diligent shadow seen only at the Amyrlin’s shoulder was simply this: she was entirely and supremely content.

 

• Alec FitzJagad …

In the wilder moments of her youth she had wondered how one lived with being a servant … part of a machine, giving up all freedom, locked into a single role. Now so completely at home with her friends, secure in the knowledge that all worked toward the same cause, Alec could not remember why she had prized her independence: why one managed alone when it was so simple to work like this, knowing that if she held out her hand her bond brother would place a sword hilt in it, knowing that when somebody fell she would be there to pull them up. The night she became Lanfir’s Warder still stood out in her memory as the proudest night of her life. No longer could she count herself a daughter of Shienar, ready to spend her life in that great war against the Blight if ever she was called, but Alec did not regret denying that for an instant. She had a better place now.

 

• … I swear by the Light and on my hope of rebirth and salvation…

No doubt even as she mused idly, listening to small splashes from the next room where Lanfir was indulging in a long and luxurious bath, another young generation was growing up wide eyed at fresh tales of Aes Sedai & the Tower; each equally determined that if they could not be sisters from song and story themselves, they would prove themselves worthy of such a bond, and maybe even guard the Amyrlin Seat. She had had a dream or two along the same lines herself as a child, though Alec would never admit it. Maybe some kind of pattern moved around them even as the philosophers said in which her thread had been laid down next to Lanfir’s, maybe something had decided her fortune even before she knew what Gaidin were … or maybe this was just their own fable. Smiling broadly Alec propped her feet up on a comfortable chair, something which irritated people no end, and clasped her hands deceptively near the hilt of her sword; and lapsed back into consideration.

 

• … that I will fight with you, for you and guard your back …

Serving in this manner was never going to be all sunshine and roses. Her exalted rank had put Lanfir under a great deal of pressure and although recent events involving her Keeper, the beautiful and determined Lyanna al’Ellisande, had lightened her moods somewhat, all her Gaidin knew nevertheless that matters were tense in the Tower. Alec did not involve herself in Hall politics, Light forbid that a fool from Shienar should ever stray where ta’veren feared to tread, but sometimes she wanted to knock some heads together and shout at these images of perfection that the Last Battle was coming and where did their priorities truly lie? Unfortunate for her frustration there were some lines which existed between serving faithfully and being an actual burden and Alec rather liked being on the dependable side.

 

• … and be there for you …

So many enemies she had never imagined existed. Every shadow stirred fraught with some malicious intent; Alec watched them lazily, hand now lying on the hilt of her sword, and her pensive state remained only a surface affection. A Gaidin was never truly at rest while their Aes Sedai’s life remained in danger and for Lanfir Leah Marithsen it would never be safe. Half the known world wanted to tear her apart under Seanchan auspices; the other half had already sworn openly to the Shadow. Alec refused to speculate about the loyalties of the black-coated Asha’man and other, stranger factions, some of which she had only heard tell of in distant legend, but it seemed rather likely that those intended no good either. In situations like these barraged with threats from all sides it would be easy to feel the strain … but Alec had made a pact with herself long ago. Her doubts and fears would never be permitted to harm Lanfir; that would make mock of her service. And if anything happened, Light forbid, she would be able to tell herself that she had done everything she could.

 

• … through whatever the Wheel will weave with us …

Still a dreamer: that was one trait still intrinsic in her FitzJagad iron heart. Messages caused a hurry and a scurry quite undignified for folk of such glorious rank. Keeping her blunt self clear of politics Alec watched from a quiet corner, feet still up and wearing a benevolent smile, while her Aes Sedai and their friend prepared themselves for an unscheduled Hall meeting. She asked only once whether she ought to accompany Lanfir, took the refusal gently, despite her misgivings. It ought to be safe in these white halls but Alec knew perfectly well that dangers lurked there possibly beyond her knowledge; too many Green Sisters had died in their previous halls, red blood spilled across those clean white stones, for her to be comfortable with Lanfir going out there with only Lyanna brave as she was for company. But doubtless Lyanna Sedai would be far better a guardian than a mere soldier. So Alec spoke lightly to her departing friends and did not burden them with her own concerns … blue gaze lingering only briefly on her beloved bondmate as Lanfir left.

 

• … for as long as I shall breathe.

Now whistling a merry tune Alec occupied herself with the task of clearing up these quarters after the hurried departure, distracted from doubts with wet towels and brushes, and when it occurred to her that she had certainly never come to Tar Valon to do the work of a maid servant her mouth only curled in a smile. No, she had no complaints, only fears. And when a knock sounded on the outer door and she crossed to open it upon the last battle of her life, frozen in the image of a scarcely familiar Aes Sedai … entering into a practised spiel: ““Lanfir Sedai is rather busy at the moment, Aes Sedai, and I can’t say when she will be back. May I take your name? I can ask her to arrange a meeting with you if you should wish it†… Alec met it with a sunny smile and a clear conscience.

 

• My Gaidin.

Alec FitzJagad

Bonded to Lanfir Sedai

Path of Perfection

[Katrinya]

OOC- Apologies once more for the wait, girls. :S If I had realized this weekend it was my turn, you’d have had this days ago.

 

Cruelty was in Serashada’s nature. Emotional fits of pique were not. Thus as she made her way to the Amyrlin’s chambers, the overwhelming, almost hysterical desire for revenge faded into something cooler, reasonable, more calculated. It wouldn’t do to go barging in with saidar blazing and sparks flying- that would attract too much attention, not to mention lever unnecessary risk to her person. Something a bit more subtle would be needed until she had both women Shielded and firmly in her grasp. Serashada ran through the potential options in her mind. She could try the invisibility trick- it would be wonderful to watch the dawn of horror and realization on their ageless faces as she appeared out of thin air. That approach had its risks, however. She was no more able to walk through wooden doors while invisible than while not, and stupid as the Amyrlin and Keeper might be, they were not SO stupid as to ignore a door opening of its own will. Pity. Ja’varan pursed her lips, considering. Eventually she decided on simply disguising herself as another sister- hey, if it worked for Mesaana all this time, why not for her? A moment of channeling and a quick twist to invert the weave rendered it done.

 

Her breath was slow and even, her heart steady, as she approached the ornate door of the Amyrlin’s study. She felt no nervousness. No excitement. Only a tightly controlled sense of anticipation guided her footsteps. This time, on this day, things were going to go her way, and there would be no escape.

 

A brief knock on the door and she was admitted by a young woman she recognized after a moment as one of Lanfir’s Gaidin. “Lanfir Sedai is rather busy at the moment, Aes Sedai, and I can’t say when she will be back,†the girl recited cheerfully. “May I take your name? I can ask her to arrange a meeting with you if you should wish it.â€

 

Serashada considered her for a spell, thoughts racing. Except for the convening of the Hall, Lanfir and Lyanna spent practically every moment of their miserable lives in these rooms- that there apparently had been a meeting just as she stopped by was a particularly brutal streak of bad luck. She could wait for them, of course. Or simply stop by later. But every moment that she delayed increased the chance that Lanfir would realize she no longer wore the bracelet, and simple revenge was not worth the premature risk of discovery. No, the best thing to do was to cut her losses and… execute a tactical retreat. Chosen never ran.

 

Besides, the presence of the girl posed an unexpected opportunity.

 

Lanfir’s hapless Warder was still waiting for a response. “Yes, you may give the Amyrlin my name. I am called Serashada.†And with that, she dropped the weave of disguise and embraced the Source, wrapping the child securely in thick cords of Air and hoisting her off the ground.

 

Her prisoner’s yelp of surprise barely registered with her as Ja’varan absently channeled a weave to soundproof the chamber. “Now, what was your name again? Alain? Alex? Al… ah, that’s right, Alec. Well Alec, I’m afraid I can hardly leave you to deliver my message in person, but the link between you and your Aes Sedai provides… other means of communication.â€

 

Fire and Spirit, laced through with threads of Water, coalesced before her and raced towards her victim. Alec Gaidin screamed in agony as soon as the weave touched her, settling in intricate knots around the young woman’s head and spine. As Ja’varan increased the weave’s intensity, she felt a powerful sense of satisfaction. Weren’t Gaidin a wonderful thing?

 

Ja’varan

Serashada

Chosen

[Sirayn]

Serashada? She was just musing on that being such a girl’s name, and the images of flowers and lace conjured up by all those soft syllables, with all the scorn of a Borderlander soldier when something unseen clamped round her and hauled her off the ground. Panic flashed brief and intense; Alec gave an undignified yelp and thrashed around, or would have done, had she not been equally tight restrained. Aes Sedai, Aes Sedai, she told herself harshly, they could not lift a hand to her except where the Third Oath permitted them. Only Darkfriends and those violent folk who dared assault a sister need fear the One Power round here … if her understanding of the Third Oath was correct of course.

 

Hanging suspended like a rag doll, she recognised through some subtle modification in the quality of sound that the Aes Sedai had warded them against prying. That ever so minute softening unnerved her rather a lot; more than that it struck an immediate and cold warning into her. No matter how much she objected and, if necessary, shouted at the top of her voice nobody would come and rescue her unless she dragged Lanfir out of her Hall meeting. And distracting the most important woman in the world because somebody wanted to pick on her useless Gaidin would be the ultimate disgrace. Incensed by this rough treatment, and disgusted by her own lack of defences against the One Power, Alec shut her mouth and fixed a cold blue stare upon her opponent.

 

Light burn Aes Sedai and their bloody tempers! Had she given some offence? It was her usual spiel, changed by not a word from all the other times, and she couldn’t imagine how even an Aes Sedai could twist some insult out of it. They could all benefit from a good spanking, except Lannie and her friends, she corrected herself loyally. That would knock some sense into their heads and maybe teach them how uncomfortable it was to be at somebody’s mercy into the bargain. As the woman sauntered somewhere toward an approximation of her name Alec bit back the invective she wanted to let rip with and instead waited stonily. Insignificant as she might be in the general scheme of things, helpless as she certainly was, it would not do her any good at all to provoke an Aes Sedai.

 

Other means of communication indeed! Everybody seemed to think that if they just harassed Alec long enough her bondmate would miraculously appear from nothing to bestow her grace and favour upon all those present. It irritated Lanfir every bit as much as it irritated her. Alec was just about to tell this fool as much, in tones far too scathing to be proper toward an Aes Sedai, when this stopped being a routine if extreme provocation and started to get dangerous.

 

Pain struck white and intense through every nerve. It obliterated all thought and locked every muscle tight into rigid strain; the scream torn from her throat almost unrecognisable, a harsh sound, it took some moments to even register that she was the one screaming. It was so far beyond bearable as to render anything else a mere shadow. No matter how much she thrashed and fought she couldn’t escape it. Distantly beyond the pain she recognised some sort of threat, danger and panic and confusion all in a series of images battering at her, but intensity shattered any attempts to string two thoughts together. Nothing made any sense. For all she knew she shrieked forever that first time.

 

Even once the pain had lessened somewhat it took long moments for this change to get through to her; all her senses still remembering the shadow of something earlier, tensed against another assault. Every breath burned in her throat. Too much screaming. She took slow breaths and forced down panic. All this seemed crazy, like madness given solid form, and the more she strove for calm the more her scattered wits fled her. Fear, her old friend … fear of failure, fear of shame, fear of losing everything she lived for … coiled through her like an icy hand. Her skills lay in open battle; she had not been taught to resist interrogation. Light help her. She did not want to disgrace herself. “You leave my Lanfir alone.†Fury lay black on the words. Though she hung helpless, still shuddering in the aftermath of agony, some quality of outrage like a lioness faced with danger to her family rang hard and menacing. “You will never get to her through me. Do you hear me? Never!â€

 

Alec FitzJagad

Lanfir’s Warder

[Katrinya]

Ah. Never. The young were inordinately fond of that word, given how little they knew of what it meant. Ja’varan had been young and careless once. The section of the Blight in which she was ambushed had been unpatrolled, isolated, yet she took no extra guard. As a result her struggle had been brief and futile, herself taken, her Warder slain. Oh yes, she knew those words. How hoarsely had she screamed them herself, when they dragged her to the chamber of the Thirteen?

 

You

 

will

 

NEVER

 

turn me!

 

You will never turn me to the Shadow. You will never harm them through me. I am a sister of the Green Ajah. I am an Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah…

 

And it had been with these words echoing in her head, echoing in her screams, that the circle’s leader had touched her with the Source. The darkness had flooded in, her life’s convictions been swept away like so much garbage. Never? Never was a bubble bursting on the needle of inevitability. Never passed as you drew breath. Never was millennia imprisoned, watching her body waste away. A child like Alec understood less of ‘never’ than she did of variegated Gate penumbras, and Serashada doubted the girl could even pronounce the term.

 

Yet something of the woman who had been Ja’varan Durlani stirred faintly in recognition of the young Warder’s words. Not compassion, as compassion was beyond her, but… a memory of compassion, perhaps. A shadow of something long forgotten.

 

“Oh, you poor, poor fool,†Ja’varan said in tones that were not quite pity. “If there were a flower for every time I’ve heard those words, I could bring the Tower down under their weight.†Whole continents would drown in petals if every man or woman’s pointless, defiant grief could be channeled somehow into blooms. That was the ‘never’ Lanfir’s Warder so blithely spoke of. Alec Gaidin was lucky that this taste of it was all she would ever get.

 

Ja’varan channeled pain at peak intensity for what were probably the longest 15 seconds of Alec’s life. Any longer could kill her, and Ja’varan was not yet finished.

 

“So tell me,†she said when the Warder was again able to meet her eyes, “what do you think Lanfir is doing right now? Is she sitting in the Hall with her hands folded neatly? Or is she coming… at this very moment… to help you, and in doing so coming – right – to – me?â€

 

The girl’s eyes were leagues wide with comprehension or pain, and Ja’varan’s vague sympathy turned to disgust. “You little fool, you have already given her to me. You betrayed her by your very existence. The link between you, and her concern for you, is bringing her here as we speak.†Fine specimen of a Warder, indeed. She could not stay long enough for Lanfir to show up in person lest the Amyrlin be bringing an army with her, but Alec would have no means of knowing that.

 

“Shall we wait for her together, then? You’re a clever girl, you can make good use of this time. Think of something that would let a woman like Lanfir forgive your failure. Do it well enough and I may even let her live.â€

 

 

OOC- Bleh, this didn’t come out quite right, but oh well. :)

 

 

Ja’varan

Serashada

Chosen

[Lannie]

Lanfir listened at the Sitters squabbling and wondered what in the name of the Light had been so urgent that the meeting had to have been rescheduled to this time of the day. Most of the issues on the agenda were the same standard points that they'd been discussing last time as well, and there were no new changes or revelations in any of the situations. What is the big deal anyway? Lanfir wondered, exchanging a glance of understanding with her Keeper. Lyanna was obviously very unhappy with how things had gone, Lanfir could tell from the tension in her lover's shoulders, despite the smooth and expressionless way her clear green eyes were focusing on whatever Sitter was talking at the moment.

 

She wasn't quite bored - not exactly - but Lanfir was far from having a good or productive time, either. She was still irritated of being pulled out of her morning routine like that and she was plagued by vague feelings of needing to be somewhere else. She couldn't quite describe it but she felt as if she shouldn't be here right now, as if there was something she had forgotten, something she had missed in the bigger picture. There was something...

 

And that was when the pain suddenly flared up. It was so intense that at first when she doubled over in agony she thought it was happening to herself - a stroke, perhaps - but the next instant she realized that it was actually a feeling that was transferred through the bond. Alec! She exhaled painfully. It felt like she was on fire, like her flesh was cooked off her body. "Light..." she blurted out in a tortured moan.

 

"Are you alright?" Lyanna was sitting next to her and Lanfir realized she had fallen to her knees a moment ago. She couldn't even recall it happening. Lanfir looked up at her Keeper through a mist of fear and pain and croaked: "It's Alec. There's something completely wrong, she's hurting."

 

She felt the eyes of the Sitters upon her but did not even care about their opinions and the gossip that would surely start circulating because of this. The ones with warders of their own would understand.

 

"Go then," Lyanna said softly, helping Lannie up with her trademark firm but gentle touch. "I'll handle this, and I'll be right after you."

 

"Thank you," Lanfir whispered. She turned around on wobbly knees and inclined her head to the Hall in a respectful way. "Please excuse me, Sitters," she murmured... and then ran.

 

Just when she exited the Hall, she could hear Lyanna addressing the Hall to adjourn the meeting to tonight - "...when it was supposed to be scheduled in anyway..." but then she rounded a corner and sprinted off to her quarters, uncaring who might see her run and what they might think. It was Alec, and Alec was hurting. And the pain that Lanfir was fuzzing out so it wouldn't cripple her in her dash to save her warder was too horrible to comprehend.

 

I'm coming, Alec!!! she sent through the bond in hopes that her gaidin would know that she was on her way. She should have asked a Yellow to join her, but it was too late now. Lyanna was hot on her heels and that was all she could do now for her warder.

 

Turning another corner to the stairhouse, Lanfir reflexively reached out to check on the silver a'dam bracelet that was supposed to adorn her wrist... and found nothing.

 

Nothing.

 

A flash of insight: she had taken the bracelet that controlled Serashada off when she had been dressing. And she had never put it on again, neither had she given it to Lyanna...

 

There was no one controlling the danger that the Forsaken represented to the Tower and the world at the moment.

 

And Alec was in agony.

 

Oh Light...

 

"NO!"

 

Lanfir ran.

[Sirayn]

It turned out that, in certain specific circumstances, fifteen seconds could be forever. Not exactly the honourable last words she had had in mind; but by the time it occurred to her anything resembling logic had shattered into tiny pieces. Ordinary suffering was so far detached from this as to be on the other side of madness. Blinding and all consuming agony rendered anything that had gone before it a mere pale shadow, broke everything down into screams and chaos and a stutter of images too bright for words, light and sound and the taste of copper: her own voice scraped raw by screaming: moments drew out endless. There was a line beyond which excessive pain simply overloaded everything and shut down any thought. Time and sensation blurred into exquisite agony.

 

Finally it ended. All reason fell apart like a house of cards; she registered bits and pieces, tears burning, the ragged sound of her own breathing, and felt wrung out as a cloth. Everything hurt. Lanfir, part of her sobbed, reaching desperately into the darkness, Lanfir, Lanfir; nothing stirred and nobody came. The silence felt obscurely like a betrayal. Bitterly her own weakness shamed her; this panic was a disgrace, Gaidin ought never to fear anything. She wanted to crawl away somewhere and hide. She wanted Lanfir. A tree needed the sun and she needed her Aes Sedai, longing beyond words, all that Battle Ajah steel would guide her in these treacherous grounds. Briefly she shut her eyes and despaired.

 

Fifteen seconds. How much were fifteen seconds worth? A lifetime’s shame and grief and failure? How could anything be worth not being a good Warder for Lanfir? Another harsh breath caught in her throat and she opened her eyes. Defender and tormentor looked at one another coldly. Even the name Lanfir in those unknown tones put a chill in her; every finely honed muscle itched to break free of her restraints. She had been made to fight in the clean way, bare steel in her hands and an open ground before her, not this twisted kind of war. That she might in some way be harming Lanfir simply by existing cut her deeper than this vengeful woman could ever have anticipated … everyone had their secret fears and for Alec, whose whole life revolved around her faithful service to one woman, somehow betraying Lanfir was one of the worst possible fates.

 

The bond told her only too clearly that her beloved Aes Sedai was coming exactly as Serashada predicted. Desperately she pushed, somehow, on some level beyond speech, only to no avail. “She isn’t coming,†snarled Alec, powerless in her fury, “she wouldn’t come to you, she won’t!†and Light if she could only convince herself that were true. It didn’t matter a jot in the general scheme of things whether one Shienaran survived; dying somewhere quietly for Lanfir was her job, the sole reason why the Pattern had spun her out, for the Amyrlin Seat somehow to get hurt for her would be a defilement of everything she stood for. “You leave her alone! She won’t come!â€

 

It was all useless. No matter how much she thrashed and struggled those restraints did not give way. Never had she felt so feeble -- such a clueless, know-nothing failure, a bastard child from the north, and every breath she took put Lanfir further into danger. Had to pull herself together. Had to think of something. “So what has Lanfir done to you then? Presumably a woman of your persuasion,†she had nothing but searing contempt for Darkfriends, “is too powerful to be pushed around by mere Aes Sedai? I haven’t heard of you, so you can’t be all that powerful.†Alec smiled a cruel kind of smile, inwardly terrified, inwardly desperate, and inquired with a final withering scorn: “I’m sorry -- what was your name again?â€

 

Alec FitzJagad

Lanfir's Warder

[Katrinya]

Ja’varan couldn’t help it: she rolled her eyes. The last thing a Chosen needed was to be MORE famous; there was hardly a child alive in this modern world who hadn’t been frightened into good behavior with tales of the Thirteen. What was the girl trying to accomplish? Was this an attempt to make her angry? Alec Gaidin herself mattered less to Ja’varan than an ant. She was important only as a means to get to Lanfir, and beyond that, her chances of making an impact were virtually nonexistant.

 

“If you really don’t know my name, you’ve either been living your whole life under a rock, or you’re an idiot.†She took in Alec’s obviously Shienaran dress and features. “Since I’m quite sure there’s no place that backwards even in Shienar, I think option two is evident enough.â€

 

“As for your Aes Sedai… I will leave her alone when her life and home are in ruins. When everything she has ever loved lies in ashes around her, then will I leave her in peace. She will have peace from me when she is broken, abandoned, and wishing for death.†Ja’varan smiled at the stricken Warder pleasantly. “Until then, I believe you are utterly screwed.â€

 

What was a woman like Alec’s greatest fear? Not death, certainly. Like most Warders, Alec Gaidin probably assumed she would either die in defense of her bondmate or long before her of old age. No, Alec’s biggest fear was something a bit more subtle. She did a quick evaluation and decided she still had ample time before Lanfir and anyone accompanying her would arrive.

 

Ja’varan ran her fingers through her hair and sighed as though in regret. “Well, you’ve already failed the Amyrlin Seat by leading her right into my trap. Surely you feel like you deserve what’s coming to you. After all, betrayal by a bondmate, someone who’s sworn to protect you… is there any failure quite so appalling? No. I think not.â€

 

And with that, she channeled Air and Fire and broke both of Alec Gaidin’s legs at the thighs. The weave spread through the bone, splintering the once-strong tissue into fragments beyond earthly repair.

 

“Unfortunately for you, the weave I just used causes damage that can’t be Healed by the Power,†Ja’varan said when the young woman was done screaming. It was utter nonsense, of course; her broken legs could be Healed like any other injury, but Alec would have no way of knowing that. “You’ll spend the rest of your life unable to walk properly. Which, by the way, just might affect your efficacy as a Warder.â€

 

Sometimes a psychological approach could be even more crippling than mere pain. A pair of shattered femurs wasn’t pleasant, but they caused nowhere near as much physical suffering as the weave of pain she’d channeled earlier. The anguish in Alec’s eyes told her she was on the right track. “Oh wait, I’m sorry. Did that hurt? I’d hate to leave you in such pain for long. Pity I can’t Heal you, but I do have something just as good.â€

 

She severed Alec’s spinal cord at the hips. The woman’s eyes grew huge.

 

“It shouldn’t hurt anymore,†Serashada whispered silkily. “Of course, now you’re paralyzed from the waist down. You’ll be useless as a Warder for the rest of your days. But hey, cheer up. You’ll make a truly superb Tower doorstop.â€

 

 

Ja’varan

Serashada

Chosen

[Sirayn]

Echoes of pain still lingered and made every nerve alive with sensation. Part of her wanted to crawl away somewhere and hide until Lanfir had come to take command. The other part knew bitter shame. She had not knelt to receive a Green Ajah legend’s bond in order to be a mere pawn; a tool through which her bondmate could be accessed. If this were the last day of her life, a surreal thought, it was a poor way to die.

 

Her adversary didn’t seem very impressed by her attempts to be insulting. It was all right for some; Alec had not been raised to trade witty banter with opponents as she had read Gaidin doing in books, usually before they died, in some gruesome or violent manner. No, her talents lay in simpler fields … in swinging a sword, and guarding the Tower’s greatest ever hero, and achieving that to as close to perfection as possible. Shienar’s stubborn daughter had not taken many tasks onto herself, compared to folk like the Aes Sedai who went around saving the world seven times before breakfast, but those she had accepted she did well. She was, after all, Path of Perfection.

 

Serashada, Serashada … the woman clearly expected her to recognise the name and again Alec scanned her memory, giving this one the benefit of the doubt that she was not actually a lunatic, and tried to remember if she had heard the name before. Maybe it had belonged to a Forsaken or some other dark legend from thousands of years ago. Nevertheless, the Dark One and all the Forsaken were bound in Shayol Ghul as those same tales had told her, and the idea of one of the thirteen most evil people in the world merely happening to pop up in the Amyrlin’s quarters some thousands of years after their disappearance seemed rather slim. Besides, the woman wore the ageless face of an Aes Sedai, and she was quite sure that that did not hold for two thousand years. Probably some kind of aspiring evildoer who thought she would get extra intimidation points by ripping off a name its owner could no longer claim.

 

The whole question seemed immaterial. Alec was still not convinced that this was anything more important than a common or garden Dreadlord. She herself was just a bastard child from Shienar; what would anyone of any significance want with her? Now thoroughly irritated, and feeling rather slighted about the insult to her intelligence into the bargain, Alec glowered at her tormentor. She had such complete and unquestioning confidence in her bondmate that the little speech about Lanfir would not have troubled her much at all, surely the Amyrlin Seat could handle strange evil Aes Sedai with one hand tied behind her back, but Lanfir was certainly worried. Not many people worried Lanfir.

 

Her thoughts scattered when she was under pressure. She ought to be better than this. She ought not to even listen to this lying stranger; even when the words spoken were such poison … that she had failed her Lanfir, that the Amyrlin Seat in all her golden glory might be brought down so easily, because her Warder was too feeble and useless to guard her … no, she would not even hear it! She had fought long and hard. There was nothing a Gaidin could do against a determined channeller, and this ought to make sense to her, ought to sound more convincing. She could not seem to shut out the sound of those venomous words. Maybe because part of her had feared this so quietly and so intensely for so long: feared that somehow she would fail Lanfir; that she, the bastard child, would be the Amyrlin’s ruin. That was not true. She would not let it be true!

 

Shocking agony shattered all her ordered thoughts. No warning, no crescendo, nothing to brace herself against: one moment nothing, the next moment pain. She had broken bones before but nothing like this. To her disgrace she screamed herself hoarse, screamed until all the outraged strength left her and she hung limp in her bonds, petrified and racked by suffering, shamed by the intensity of her need for Lanfir to be here. And this was everything she had feared. To be crippled and tainted and useless, a burden to her wonderful Lanfir, only a shell of the strong Shienaran Gaidin she should have been … she gritted her teeth and made her burning eyes focus. She was not going to die a failure. She loved life and she loved Lanfir and if she convinced herself everything was going to be fine it would actually come true.

 

Total lack of sensation where there had been pain seemed so bizarre it took long moments for recognition to sink in. Paralysis? Her? She knew the limits of her strength so well it seemed inconceivable that trained muscles would not answer her orders. Yet for all she tried to move her toes even a fraction nothing responded. Terror set in then, and shame … for she who secretly thought herself the most loyal of Lanfir’s Gaidin, never mind occasionally crazy Syl and Jerad who had never wanted it anyway, to be reduced to a weight of worthless flesh was the end of everything: the finish of the only life that meant anything to her, losing pride and strength, losing everything she relied on. Part of her wished the Aes Sedai would get a move on and fix her properly, make it so she did not know any more … part of her knew still more shame that she wanted Lanfir to suffer for her death any sooner.

 

Bitter tears ran unchecked. Perhaps for a proud Borderlander, a daughter of Shienar, this came hardest of all for those folk had no existence if they could not be soldiers; she might as well be the doorstop this liar had promised. Uselessly she strove for something cutting to say, something to get the smugness off that lying face, but she had never had the quickest tongue … stupid, she thought savagely, worthless and feeble and dull witted … and she had no more insults to trade. Instead she mumbled the only words she wanted to remember, “Lanfir won’t come, she’ll be fine, Lanfir’s a hero,†until all sense went out of it and she just sobbed for Lannie, she wanted Lannie, where was Lannie?

 

Alec FitzJagad

Not much of a Gaidin for Lanfir Sedai ;)

Path o’ Perfection