Black and White ~Ja'varan and Lillian~

[ashara]

Golden bees. Nine golden bees on a field of green were the founding of the nation she now held at her fingertips. One last smile touched her lips briefly as she looked over her shoulder in adieu. Sofia Stepaneos breezed into the halls of the Royal Palace, and paused. A large ornamental mirror was hanging, with fine, gilded borders. She turned, so that she was face to face with her reflection. She considered it, contempt swelling up inside her as she eyed the sunny smile still present. At one moment, she was the prized successor of Illian’s last King, of blood running in her veins that declared her Princess. A rush of air, and she was holding Saidar. Her smile broadened as she wove, twisting and darkening until her gaze was fixed on it.

 

At the next moment, she was herself. Ja’varan. Serashada. Chosen.

 

She ran fingers through her dark hair once, and let the smile fade as she noticed a vague silhouette appear not so far behind her in the glass. “What is it?” She spoke sharply, but didn’t turn. Instead, she stared into the mirror, watching as the shadow stepped out and took form as a servant, one of the many Friends of the Dark who’d joint her since her entrance into Illian. “And next time, use your wits. Waiting in my shadow for me to notice you, is not the best way to address me.”

 

The boy-for to her, that was all she could truly take him for-gave back with profuse apologies and a bowed head and as Ja’varan heard the words, foolishly uttered words rooted in the depths of fear, she began to lose interest, and cut through coldly. “What’re you here for boy? Speak quickly, before I decide your voice is much too dreary to bear.” Ja’varan didn’t much care for summons of any sort, so the presence of this fool here made her curious as to what message he brought. And so, she began to listen as her dark eyes flickered here and there, waiting for the ramble to come to halt and reach the core of his purpose. “And I be under the belief, great Mistress, that she is one of those Aes Sedai..” Ja’varan’s roving eyes paused, and lingered on the reflection of the servant. Her lips broke into a smile again, wider than before and some would say-the fool for sure-more terrible as well. A thoughtful finger tapped her lips as her interest grew at the servant’s information, and she cut him midway again. “Fetch her to my rooms. I do not want to be waiting.”

 

Oh, but this was like the icing on the cake. An Aes Sedai, smooth faced little chit most likely with the substance of a thin piece of string, had found it in her heart to visit Illian. If this were a painting, this life, this world, then the appearance of a Sister in her realm would be the same as the final finishing touches of paint, completion of the piece as the artist stood satisfied. And Ja’varan while not exactly satisfied, quite relished the entertainment that had been presented to her. She wove her way into her rooms, that lay at the very heart of the palace, quicker than she usually did. Sitting down in the most comfy chair in the room, Ja’varan set about making some tea.

Ja'varan

Chosen

[Wayfarer]

Being shielded was an unpleasant experience to say the least as far as Lillian Tremina was concerned.  Having said that, it was hardly the first time that she had been shielded and held prisoner by Darkfriends.  She did have to admit there was the distinct possibility it might be the last though.  Escorted by a pair of Darkfriend Companions in their black and silver trim, she was not certain that she wanted to find out what awaited her at their destination.  Still, there was nothing to do but simply follow and see where it led, resistance at this point would be useless.

 

The Royal Palace was a large structure, yet it was only a matter of time before they arrived.  Stopping before a pair of double doors with green and gold standards hanging either side of them, the doors were opened by the pair of guards as she was escorted inside, her hands secured behind her back with rope and each of her escorts holding one of her arms.  A small hall, its white walls and columns were decorated with tapestries of green and gold intermingled with black and silver, with light from the nearby torches failed to illuminate the entire space.  Indeed, only the centre of the room was well lit, which was just as well because thats where her attention was focused.

 

A circular table with ten seats, of which only one of them was claimed.  Lillian had been expecting to be brought before someone, yet the person she saw before her was not who she would have guessed.  Ja'varan Durrlani, sister of the Green Ajah and a close friend of the previous Amyrlin and her Keeper.  That she was here waiting for her led to several quick conclusions about the situation, about what had gone before, and what possible future lay in store for her.  There was no avoiding fate, so she embraced it as she stepped clear of her guards who were then ordered to withdraw, leaving the pair of them alone in the hall.

 

Frowning, Lillian broke the silence with a simple statement.  "You are not what you seem."

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Sister of the White Ajah

[ashara]

There was something about her face…something that hinted at vague recognition, more than just Ja’varan’s instant remembrance that the woman brought to her was a White Sister. Her name came and went in her mind, so close, and then in a most infuriating manner, it would slip away. She knew the other recognized her, certainly she made no attempt to hide her surprise at seeing a Sister of the Green Ajah in what was once the home of a Princess. She watched as the unnamable woman studied her face, flashing an even smile in return for the Aes Sedai’s uncomprehending and at the same time calculating look. The fools, they never did give up their façade at first. Not even when disaster chose to walk hand in hand with fate, two twinkling stars in an endlessly velvet sky that were speeding towards each other, quickly. 

 

"You are not what you seem.”

 

Oh, but the satisfaction. It swelled up inside her, consuming her, elating her. ‘No, indeed, I am not.’ Ja’varan Durlanni, former Sister of the Battle Ajah threw back her head, and laughed. A soft, tinkling laugh that didn’t stop for sometime, such was the amusement the Sister had brought her. They were all the same. Each Sister was a mask representing the next with ease; each Sister was nothing more than a fool, and each would someday have fate and disaster embracing dearly. Fitting, she thought, for little women who deigned to call themselves Servants of All.

 

As the laughter faded, the atmosphere which Ja’varan suspected must be quite terse by now, darkened. The silence lay still in the room, heavy. There was still a smile stretched across her face, and she found herself simply enjoying looking at the White Sister for some time. The other was not afraid as yet, she could see. In her daunting, steady gaze, the Chosen could see it, sense it, and found herself amused further. Not afraid, as yet. It was then that the name, which had been floated away so elusively pressed itself in her mind. Lillian. Her name, was Lillian. Eyes narrowing by the tiniest fraction, she began to tie the woman up in bonds of Air and began to speak.

 

“That is your worry, I’m afraid. Not mine.” She wrapped the other’s arms in a weave, tightening it just a little too much, just enough to make her…uncomfortable. That would be enough for the moment. A little chat with her favourite Aes Sedai chums was not something she would pass over. “Would you like some tea, Lillian?” Not pausing to wait for the other’s answer, she continued. “How many cubes of sugar, my dear?”

 

Ja'varan

Chosen

[Wayfarer]

The laughter, the amusement, it seemed that Ja'varan seemed bent on enjoying the moment while it lasted.  For Lillian, it was a matter of trying to ascertain how best to negotiate herself through the situation and retain her limbs and mind in the process, even if she had accepted the fact that she could well be lost now.  Fiddling with her ropes as best she could with her fingers since they were obscured from Ja'varan's sight, Lillian quickly found that there would be little chance of taking advantage of the woman's distraction.  Whoever had tied the bonds knew exactly what they were doing.

 

Then the silence came, Lillian wondered this was a form of testing or intimidation.  She had suffered the gaze of an eyeless enough times to not let fear get the better of her nearly as easily, not when she knew it was a deliberate attempt to manipulate.  That which she understood she didn't need to fear, only accept and move through.  Likewise the bonds of air slipping around her arms, tightening to assert the woman's authority.  Lillian accepted again, for now the woman did have authority over her.  In a situation where she was incredibly disadvantaged, all she could do was follow the current and bide her time.  

 

That which can destroy a thing, controls a thing.

 

But in the end, control did not necessarily extend to choice, and that was something she did retain.  Even as the woman began to speak, Lillian was weighing up her options, though the offer of tea sidetracked her.  The woman wished to affect a certain form of civility under these conditions?  For the amusement value or for another reason?  It couldn't be a poison or drug, simply because the woman had no need to indulge in such games.  No, this was a different game altogether.

 

Lillian suspected her course of action was not going to be particularly fruitful, but it would be one way to get a better measure on Ja'varan.  "Two, though usually one offers a seat to their guest first.  An honoured guest also has their bonds removed.  For the sake of good manners if nothing else, I trust even a Black Sister remembers their basic etiquette despite the times?"

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Sister of the White Ajah

[ashara]

Ja’varan, who had gone about retrieving the first sugar cube with a pair of silver tongs, paused as she heard the contempt, the biting, maddening insults blown her way with such tranquility. Ja’varan felt Serashada inside her roar, seethe at the daring. And indeed, how dare she? Who did this little Aes Sedai think she was? And who, just who did she think Ja’varan was? She was still holding Saidar, and she succumbed to it’s thrall without thought. At first, she considered Compulsion- just a little bit needed after all, and this woman would see just how the Wheel weaved. Again Serashada within her hissed, and again the words came: how dare she?

 

Without looking up, after that one moment of weakness that the Aes Sedai must’ve seen, Ja’varan began a little exercise for the Sister. She was already in bonds of Air, so why not add just a little, just the slightest bit of Water? She’d asked for the second cube after all, she thought with a sweet smile on her face. Drown, when used internally, could crush the air out of a person, squeeze her lungs so tightly that Lillian would be dead, a crumpled body on the floor in seconds. But then, she had to think reasonably, she told herself, dropping in the second cube. Killing Lillian so quickly was not in question. What, where was the fun in that? Ja’varan almost laughed again.

 

She would let her linger the way she was now. If the Whites believed in logic as well as they claimed, then Lillian could do as she pleased and use her bloody logic. Even as she tightened the weaves of Water around her lungs, she continued to stir the tea, waiting impatiently for a choke to come before she let go again. Then, she looked up. Of course that wasn’t enough to frighten the Sister, but as Lillian had so wisely told her, she needed to remember her basic etiquette.

 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured while she used thick threads of Air to pull Lillian to the chair, squashing her firmly into place. “It is good of you to remind me of my manners. And I really shouldn’t blunder now and leave you thirsty. Why don’t you help yourself to your tea? Oh wait, that’s right. My bad.” Again, she wove, this time lifting the porcelain cup of tea to Lillian’s lips. “Drink.” She commanded, in a much harsher tone than before. She waited for her mouth to open, pressing the liquid down with a slight tilt of the teacup.

 

She leaned back against her chair, and watched Lillian as she drank. Hands clasped, she tightened the tangles of Water inside Lillian ever so slightly on whim, but never enough. Always a few traces before what would make a most agonizing death, so that, while the scalding hot tea slipped down, Lillian’s body reacted violently to the little twists inside her. There was something in her though, that Ja’varan had never encountered before. Lillian was not resisting. She was not trying to struggle violently like most of those fools did in the beginning, screaming and fighting in futility. Just the way she had done, one worthless effort many, many years ago. Bitter, suddenly the tea was so bitter. She wrenched the cup away from Lillian’s mouth with a loud clank, and then her own.

 

A slender hand reached out for a small, delicate silver jug of milk. She tilted it only very slightly, so that only a drop or two would escape, drip by drip, into the tea. At the same time, drip by drip, water encased Lillian’s lungs, filling them up painfully, gradually, until the space left for air to breathe seemed …minute. Ja’varan decided with a flourish of her hand, that there was now more than enough milk in her tea. Picking the cup up again, she sniffed the sweet fruit tea, and while doing so, forced the water away from Lillian’s lungs. Why, that was a spell she’d learnt in the Tower. Turning in acknowledgement towards the Aes Sedai, she blinked, as if she had just remembered something.

 

“Oh yes! I forgot, you’d mentioned the bonds too.” She released her suddenly, beaming as Lillian surged forward due to the sudden lack of weight. A thin tendril of Air, and Lillian was no longer falling forward. She was now, firmly in her seat. “Is that better?” she cooed, looking at Lillian with express concern. “I just needed to get a few things clear with you, dear Aes Sedai.” This time, she used no Saidar. Her voice, ended in a snarl, and her lip had curled in distaste. Her anger blazed through, but she still checked the shield. No foolish mistakes this time. “I am not a Black Sister. I am not, an Aes Sedai of the White Tower. Should it be that you dare call me that again…” she paused, closed her eyes and opened them yet again. She continued, in her normal pleasant voice. “Should it be, then I swear by the power of the Great Lord, I will endow you with the quickest, and most painful death possible. Are we clear?”

 

Ja'varan

Chosen

[Wayfarer]

The feeling of being drowned, water rising in her lungs as her every breath became shallower, it was disquieting to say the least.  The primal part of her, the basic instincts that were embedded in every person, these panicked as her basic natural drive to survive attempted to prompt reaction from her to try and struggle and avoid imminent death.  These basic instincts were overriden by her mind, her self discipline and will.  If now was the moment she was to die, she had to accept that and that was all that was left to do.  Besides, Ja'varan had not had her brought here simply to drown her, this was the woman's way of playing with her.

 

Likewise, the tea that was given to her was yet another game played by the woman.  Drinking, even as it burned down her throat, the pain was something that couldn't be denied so Lillian didn't bother even as her natural instinct cried for her to close her mouth.  Yet her mind knew that all that would result in was burning her face and chest as the tea poured, until Ja'varan tired of that and simply forced her mouth open to continue where she left off.  There was no point in fighting useless battles, they were already lost before one began them.  As it was, she could barely breath between the rising damp in her chest and the burning stream that flowed down her throat.

 

Even as the tea cup was pulled away, Lillian's breaths were becoming shallower, more difficult yet at the same time easier.  While her chest burned from the lack of air, her feeling was beginning to recede and her vision dim, unaware of Ja'varan with her jug of milk.  It would be over soon enough, nothing else mattered now as she would be free of Ja'varan's grip.

 

Then clarity returned.

 

Able to breath normally again, Lillian didn't try hiding the gasps she took, she enjoyed them for what they were, an extension of her life as her mind began to function properly again.  Yet it had weakened her enough that when the bonds of air about her were released, she fell forward only to be caught by air once more.  Toying.  That was all Ja'varan was doing as to her, this was simply a game and an amusement.  But fear was only of the unknown and the unacceptable.  Since she was already dead, everything was acceptable.

 

Ja'varan's cool had been discarded as she revealed her true colours, her loathing of the White Tower.  It seemed she'd found a sore spot as well, that was good to know.  Smiling despite the pain, it was a little difficult to talk as her mouth and throat had been scalded but she did so anyway.  "It is clear, I would not befoul the names of my sisters by naming you Aes Sedai, you are something much less."

 

That had poked the sore spot, but Lillian continued.  "Tell me, Ja'varan, what are you now?  A Dreadlady?  A lackey to some Forsaken?  You were once a sister who fought the Shadow and now you've become a shameful shadow of what you once were.  I pity you and your antics because they will avail you nothing.  I am already dead, anything you do to me is simply a prelude and now meaningless in light of that single truth."

 

Turning slightly in her seat, Lillian revealed the rope that still bound her wrists together to Ja'varan.  "You forgot these.  Very unhospitable of you."  Lillian didn't deign to mention the drowning or the scalding with the tea.  If she were lucky, she'd have incensed Ja'varan enough to simply end it all.  Or maybe she would learn something new.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Sister of the White Ajah

[ashara]

Never had Ja’varan felt so truly entertained, while on a strong parallel so completely enraged. Ja’varan turned her head sideways, listening to Lillian intently, because she couldn’t help but be fascinated. Scathing words, daunting words. A diction so cutting that it’s one purpose was to provoke, to drive the dagger home in the sharpest-and weakest-of joints. She gazed with that intensity that was almost unearthly, and wondered in sheer rapture. Lillian didn’t comprehend, and Ja’varan felt a thrill of success run down her tensed, eager back. Did the little Sister really not know who she was?

 

Lillian Tremina, Sister of Reason, didn’t comprehend. The fascination that had gripped her instantly, caused her to laugh, to serve her guest tea, to use principles no other Chosen would’ve ever bothered to dribble with, snapped and vanished, without a trace. A sudden trace of fear took hold of her; was she not worthy enough, to be recognized as one of the Great Lord’s most dominant servants? Did she not emanate the menace of Crimsonthorne, the powers of the twisted Battle Sister who had been driven to darkness? There were still stories about the likes of her, fed into the open, guileless minds of babes, to conquer rebellion and strife. Chosen, Forsaken, Hater of Aes Sedai, Soul of Serashada. And Lillian Tremina would not meet logic when it stood waving frantically in front of her face. A grim appreciation settled in Ja’varan’s in mind of the events that were about to unfold. She would make her see. Of her own accord, Lillian Tremina would fall into the oblivion knowing only one thing. She was gifted with a slow, painful death, the mercy imparted by none other than Ja’varan, the Chosen.

 

Her face had lots its pretence of warmth, and the Saldaean features were sculpted into a much harder visage. Still, she would reply with all the even courtesy this woman expected of her. Her last mercy before the other’s death. “Oh but dear Lillian, how will you cherish the gift of the other bonds released, if all is given to you on a plate at once? Isn’t the relief…almost killing?” She offered a malicious smile at that; there was no need to keep obvious motives hidden any longer. She considered Lillian, how odd the Aes Sedai seemed as she sat so vulnerable, utterly immobile, shielded from the one Source that could’ve saved her. Ja’varan decided that it was time. If Lillian had learned not to resist, then she was going to make her scream.

 

Freedom is just a breath away

Will you live to see the day?

As the heat intensifies

You start to choke, your insides fry

 

Ja’varan began it brutally. Thin strands of Fire wrapped around Lillian’s body, and she pushed them inwards, forcing them into the copper flesh. She knotted them together, and lifted Lillian up in the air. Let her not understand. Let her mind roam over such terrifying plains that lucidity is no longer an option. Twirl, she said to herself, as the fire ran up and down Lillian’s body. The burns, while acutely painful, would slowly seep through her skin and then… “Accept the dizziness, Lillian.” Ja’varan increased the pace at which she revolved.

 

Seizure now sets in

Torture will begin

 

She kept her moving with the twitch of her hand, bizarre movement that almost resembled a dance. The burns were forming, the licking flames already devouring. Elsewhere, now. With razors of Air, she now passed the forming wounds. The little nips would be almost excruciating, she could imagine, if they had just been set alight by fire.

 

Ja’varan let the dance continue on for some time, long enough to almost taste the pain and sigh in pleasure. Perfection. Malicious perfection. She wondered how long it must seem to Lillian, how many hours the other must feel would’ve passed. Her time of death, Ja’varan decided, would be linked directly to the answer that Lillian would provide her with now. The fire faded, but the wounds remained. They would be with her forever, scars that Ja’varan would smile at as blackness took over Lillian’s vision. The slashes of Air that were dancing across her skin stopped, and formed a solid support under Lillian. A cosy bed for this honoured member.

 

“Who am I, Lillian?”

 

Choke on it - As your tongue goes down

Choke on it - Death is all around

 

Ja’varan

Chosen

 

 

 

 

 

[Wayfarer]

The words that Lillian was offered had the scent of madness about them, and while Lillian was careful to not underestimate her opponents for being so, in this case she felt it may be true.  An academic question considering the circumstances, but something she stored away out of habit even as she looked upon Ja'varan's face.  There was no mistaking it, any sort of guise of civility had been dispensed with in favour of her true face; loathing, hatred and numerous other base emotions that were ugliness incarnate.  An ugliness that was about to express itself as an art, with Lillian as the canvas.

 

Throwing her head back and screaming as invisible strands of fire settled along her flesh, Lillian was only barely aware of the fact that she had been lifted into the air as the threads tightened and flesh smoked.  The nauseating stench turned her stomach even as she began to rotate in the air, spinning as if upon some invisible wheel that was accelerating slowly yet surely.  As the heat intensified, her screams rising to some unknown pitch that was beyond the hearing of humans and her clothing began to catch alight.  Every line of agony upon her body a lifetime of pain and all the strands combined forming a tapestry of suffering that she couldn't escape from and left her oblivious to Ja'varan and her words.

 

Even as the adrenaline in her body began to compensate and help her find some reason, Lillian's pain went to a place where she had never been as unseen razors took form around her.  Their incisions slicing flesh and ashen clothing alike that drifted to the floor, she was spinning so quickly that the flames that had caught on her clothing had sputtered out.  Blood trickling down her arms, legs, torso, face, time became a meaningless concept as her very being cried out from the torture.  Her howling tearing at her throat, her face was contorted in a twisted visage that barely communicated a smidgeon of the torment she was going through.

 

It stopped.

 

Every wound weeping red tears as she dangled in the air, her arms hung either side of her as her head lolled to the right so she could see Ja'varan even as clarity asserted itself.  Victory was the face she now wore, looking at Lillian with a satisfied malice that spoke of her joy at Lillian's cries of agony.  Light but she felt so weak, and for some reason she noticed that her clothing was barely hanging together from the surviving threads.  She had incurred Ja'varan's wrath, and as the woman asked her question Lillian knew that her end was near.  She had survived for decades and escaped many times when death had been certain, this time there would be no such luck.

 

Accepting her fate as it was, it meant that she was free to do as she would, and while she accepted she couldn't escape she knew that there was something she could do.  Almost giggling from the realisation, she tried to answer the question asked of her only to find her mouth was too dry.  Forcing her tongue to work her cheeks, soon there was enough moisture to carry her final words, her final stab that would trouble Ja'varan long after her pain had ceased to trouble her.

 

"You...  are...  nothing...  have...  my...  pit-"

 

Jacknifing upright with Ja'varan's response, Lillian let loose one last earpiercing shriek before crumpling upon the bed of air, unmoving and swiftly departing the world as her thread began to unravel from the pattern.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Sister of the White Ajah

[ashara]

There was no remorse in her, of course. What she had done, swift Delving followed by rough Healing- these were not things you could account for under the ever growing world of pity that mortals loved so much. Ja’varan had done it for the only two emotions she was familiar with now: rage and pleasure. No human would feel the degree of fury that she once had, for no human had ever felt the twisted snarling power of Serashada, or the slippery tendrils of the Shadow as they swallowed one whole. Not quite as much as she had, at any rate. She was now a battle of these two overpowering feelings, and as the frenzy waged, Lillian Sedai would provide her all the quality time she needed.

 

Critically she eyed the sleeping figure. Soon, she would wake. Ja’varan had decided it would be a pleasant awakening for the Aes Sedai in the damp inhibition of the Palace cells. The guards had kept her on cold, hard stone as a makeshift bed and she was still there now, as Ja’varan watched while sipping more tea-jasmine, this time-waiting not so patiently for the others eyes to crack open. It was hardly fascinating after all, that a torture driven evening would lead a woman to sink into the deepest recesses of sleep. Still, it had been a good seven hours since Ja’varan had left the woman to herself, a space of time the Chosen had felt would be devoured usefully, through ponder and question, to find the pending answer that Ja’varan knew the Aes Sedai had in her, but was refusing to accept. She had asked her the night before, deciding that it would either mean a swift death or a slow, gradual easing out of all energy inside her body. The youthful Lillian Tremina had surprised her though, for neither had she bowed down, nor had she tried to spit in Ja’varan’s face. She had simply not accepted Ja’varan, endowed her with…what had she said? Ah yes, pity. Pity.

 

While her mind filled with all sorts of possibilities on what game to try today, her eyes sprang from the stone wall behind to the stirring form of Lillian. She had taken long enough, now. Weaving Air around the glass of water that was left for every prisoner, she tipped it over neatly. As Lillian’s eyes cracked open, she smiled. “Ah, you’re awake. I was beginning to wonder if I should shake you awake, but the water did that for me. Water does have its usefulness, especially when it’s served only once a day.” Another sip of tea, just to pronounce in her own paltry way how completely helpless the woman was. “So tell me, Lillian, did you review your answer from last night? Have you figured out the missing identity?” Putting down her cup, she felt the feigned warmth slip away, and was left with only a glint in her eye.

 

“Since you’re struggling so much with the first two, let me add another. This one surely you will know better about. What do you know of the Chosen, Lillian?”

 

 

Ja'varan

Chosen

[Wayfarer]

Consciousness.

 

Blinking, Lillian was confused as she saw her surroundings and began to process the fact that she was still alive.  Not just alive, but she had a familiar and completely unwanted companion in her quarters with her.  The insidious voice was one that she had thought she might have escaped, but it seemed that she hadn't pushed the woman quite far enough or she'd realised at the last moment what she'd been doing.  All of it needed thought, and although she was possessed of a level of weariness that would have befit her after a hard day's travel, she bent her mind and will to the task even as she began to push herself upright.

 

Sitting upright on her stone slab, Lillian crossed her legs and sat her hands on her thighs to demonstrate her disdain of the other woman even as Ja'varan proceeded to question her.  Ja'varan had clearly healed her, though what condition she was in now she couldn't say without a mirror though her hands and her body appeared unmarked beneath the tattered remnants of her clothes.  The line of questioning gave her ideas as to why Ja'varan wasn't done with her yet.  Amusement perhaps, perhaps a need of some sort, maybe both.  The only way to learn the truth of the matter would be to play the game that Ja'varan was presenting to her.

 

Smiling slightly at the woman, Lillian voice and outward demeanour was part amused and part condescending as she spoke.  "A lie.  Forsaken, on the otherhand, I am familiar with.  The refuse of a dead Age that survived in the Bore until they were released, not that it does them much good as the Dragon has been burning them out of the pattern."

 

Lillian knew that what she needed to do was give the woman a nice jolt, a stab, anything to get her going.  Ja'varan had already demonstrated that she was susceptible to cutting remarks, and that she was concerned with cowing Lillian.  A thin skin just waiting to be pierced by the right comment.  She was no doubt going to boast that she served some Forsaken, maybe she would have to ask her before she said anything.

 

For some reason, it was in that moment that Lillian recalled a story she'd heard about a fight at the Warders Yards involving a promiscuous Tower Guard and a trainee whose mother the Guard had been familiar with.  A story that brought some genuine light to her eyes as she asked her question.  "So, tell me, which one of the Chosen do you call Da?  Hmmm?  Da Da?  Maybe Rahvin?"

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Sister of the White Ajah

[ashara]

Ja’varan almost pouted. They had only just begun; the tea was still relatively drinkable, and was giving off small vapours. So then why was the fool so bent on spoiling their time so quickly, and plunging on into the main course? Where was the fun in this game, this repetitive cycle of back and forth of serpentine tongue lashes, which would only be ending when she found herself too incensed to not take advantage of her far superior skill and strength in the True Source? Ja’varan wanted so much to see Lillian’s eyes widen, for her to beg and beg yet again for mercy, she wanted her most of all to see. See and acknowledge, but Lillian was giving her neither pleasures. Ja’varan had hoped that she would be able to make the Sister perceive the situation for what it was without using the One Power, but time and time again her efforts had been discarded as fruitless.  Perhaps today called for a fresh start. Turning the tables and making the ends the start, yes. Perhaps that was what the Great Lord was trying to show her- the flaw in her actions, though why He would bother with such inconsequential matters Ja’varan couldn’t understand.

 

“A Sister with a sense of humour, how very charming. Trust the White Tower to arm its channelers with quips and sarcasm, in exchange for my polite offers of tea and teaching. I will of course, take it on myself to personally pass on your opinions to the other Chosen, dead or not.” Ja’varan paused to regard the ageless face, and then smiled coldly at her. “Since my previous labours have been a waste, how about we try a new game today, Sister Lillian?” Embracing Saidar in a flash, she deftly released the watching woman from her shield, and used Air to lift her up from her bed. “On other days, I like to call this game ‘cat and mouse’ but today-for your pitifully dull brain’s sake- I’ll keep this simple.” Looking straight into Lillian’s eyes, she spoke. “Let us have a little power play.” With that, Ja’varan began to weave. 

 

OOC: It seemed longer when I wrote it, really! Also, left the end vague because I thought we could sharepost the next bit? Will catch you on Msn.

 

[Wayfarer]

The fact that her shield was gone was not lost on her, but Lillian managed to refrain from taking the one power only with the greatest exertion of discipline.  She had already gained the measure of the woman's abilities and her power was definitely exceeded.  Her Green Ajah training combined with whatever else her master or mistress had arranged would make fighting questionable at best.  The only reason that the shield would have been lifted would have been to precipitate such an action, so Lillian witheld even as she was pulled from the bed and to her feet.  Instead, she lifted her arms to either side, as if welcoming the woman to do what she could.

 

Had she completely lost her senses? Ja’varan’s lip curled with open distaste at Lillian’s reaction, and as far as sight would allow, there were no signs of sleep being the cause of such bizarre behaviour. No, this was purely Lillian very consciously choosing actions that the Sister must’ve realized during yesterday’s session, were right down the lane of all things that drove Ja’varan to irrepressible fury. Drawing on saidar, she narrowed her eyes slightly on Lillian’s face although her concentration lay with the weaves. Beginning it averagely, she wove a few large sized fireballs together and threw them towards Lillian. It was lucky that the cellar she had chosen for Lillian was larger than most, usually used for at least two to three people. In a way, the Sister had been treated better than most.

 

Ja’varan had an idea in mind, but it would have to wait until Lillian was caught up enough in defending herself. Until Lillian didn’t feel desperate enough, the woman wouldn’t use saidar, and until that happened, this was no fight. So she spun. Fire, Earth and Air clinging to each other in weaves making discs and balls, unsettling ripples and hurtful razors but all the while she thought of her ultimate surprise, the one that would cause Lillian to crumple to the floor, just as recognition lit up her eyes. Now that she felt she had sent sufficient damage Lillian’s way, she began to work on the other weave, becoming so caught up that she barely noticed the blur of motion, the glow that appeared around her opponent...

 

Now.

 

Embracing the source, there was no hesitation as Lillian she slashed the globe of light sitting in the centre of the room with spirit.  Even as the room plunged into darkness, Lillian didn't have time to completely avert her eyes as a flash of bright light that seared her eyes and a loud thunderclap erupted in the space roughly where Ja'varan was.  Pain at that point cauterised Lillian's senses as she fell to the ground, her hands trying to cover her eyes and ears simultaneously.  It would have been bad enough normally, but while holding saidar with all her senses heightened it was outright agony.  If she'd had enough time she would have made it large enough to outright kill them both, but there would never have been time to make the weave big enough.

 

But she had to push through the pain, even as it threatened to overwhelm her altogether.  She'd banked on Ja'varan killing her, or presenting her with an opportunity.  The only way to take down someone who was far more powerful than her in saidar had been to simply eliminate that aspect altogether.  Even if either of them could recover enough of their willpower to open to saidar, the pain that would flood through would cut out the possibility altogether and maybe knock them unconscious.  These are things that she had realised as she'd waited for a moment.

 

But now she was simply pulling herself off the ground, or trying to as her sense of balance had been completely disrupted by the bang.  The room felt like it was spinning, and if she hadn't known better then Lillian would have thought it was.  The floor was her only guide as she couldn't even tell up from down as the world seemed to shift around her.  Almost managing to get to her feet, Lillian fell back down to her knees as she began to retch as her entire body convulsed and attempted to expel what little acids and bile were to be found in her stomach.  Yet the pain of her body's strain remained insignificant to that caused by the trauma of her flash and bang.

 

Still retching as she managed to get to her feet, Lillian staggered as she made her way forward to where Ja'varan had been.  Running into her, Lillian grabbed onto the dress of her adversary for dear life even as she felt something strike her across the head.  Only able to use touch as a guide, she knew she was holding the front of the woman's dress and while she couldn't throw a punch to save her life at that moment, she could trace her other hand from Ja'varan's chest to her throat.  Latching on as tightly as she could even as her legs were kicked out from under her and the pair fell over, Lillian didn't even try to protect herself from the blows that rained down as she managed to get her other hand on Ja'varan's throat.  She was resigned to dying, but maybe there was just a sliver of a chance that she'd take the darkfriend with her.

[ashara]

 

Darkness. She felt her breath squeezed out her lungs, in fashion not so different to that which she had subjected Lillian to, just yesterday. Her eyes popped open; her mind cleared up and offered her a clean slate. Ja’varan and Serashada screamed together, one in shock, the other in outrage. She could not breathe. She could not see. Her senses had either been snatched away from her by deft weaving, or highlighted to the point of it being almost unbearable. As her mind washed through stages of uncontrollable emotion, her body worked at its own accord. From a distant, detached place that was connected to her body by the weakest of threads, Ja’varan felt her arms pound against the other. She kicked; she struck where she felt the teasing contact of the other. It felt almost like watching it from a window, a carved square that gave her insight on another’s mind, as she herself floated well above, knowing many things, but amongst them one shone out greater than all. This was not how it would end.

 

In a way, it was delicious. Saidar, her far superior forte had been snatched away just as her sight or balance had. They were equals now, struggling against one another in the hope to bring the other down. When this was over, she would congratulate Lillian. Black and white spots danced across her vision as the Sister’s grasp over her throat tightened. She felt her body struggle on the cool stones that she had fallen onto, and as her mind was clanging alarm, it occurred to her that it would take only seconds for air to breathe back life into her body, or on the other hand, only seconds to make it all end. That was not to be though, so there was only one thing to do. Where she had underestimated, she would now practice caution. Where she had been surprised, she would surprise. Two could play the game, and in the end, they were both women. Besides, the Great Lord favoured her.

 

That did it. The connection between mind and body grew thicker rapidly. Unknown strength, welcomed strength that spoke of long gone days in the Blight, when no foe could compare to the evils of dust. Dust, scattering across her vision as she had battled against it. Dust, choking her throat and causing violent coughs. For the millionth time, the former Battle Sister offered gratitude to the Dark. Even as a foolish puppet of the Tower, He had seen that she was gifted as necessary. She heaved just as she had during training, pushing her opponent away and with apparent success she noted, as Lillian’s frame thudded across the ground. She hoped it would form some nice bruises. Ja’varan breathed sharply, sucking in as much air as possible before she lunged at her opponent again. Lucky that she had not pushed her away far, and that while all hopes of catching faint silhouettes were cut down, lucky still that she could hear the ragged breathing coming from her left. Dragging herself forward, Ja’varan’s hands clutched the surface of the floor, probing it desperately almost as if it held some hidden map, directions that didn’t need sight to be understood and followed. When the stone merged into the ends of a cloth, it was with difficulty that she held back her sigh of relief. Tightening her hand into a fist, she landed her first blow, only realizing afterwards that it was the other woman’s cheek that had faced the onslaught. When Lillian did not return it-not even with a feeble block- a growl escaped her lips. She wanted a fight. And now, she was only inches away from getting one.

 

 

~Ja'varan

[Wayfarer]

Consciousness was a mix of relief and disappointment once it became something more than a dull ache.

 

She had failed, Lillian knew that now as she slowly picked herself up off the floor.  She had hoped to kill the Darkfriend, or at least perish and thereby deny her opponent further pleasure in tormenting her, or trying to otherwise subvert her by removing herself from Ja'varan's reach.  But no, she awoke once more to run her hands over her face and body to find that she was healed once again.  Ja'varan wasn't done with her yet, but another opportunity would come.

 

Lying down on the stone slab that passed for a bed, Lillian relaxed as she placed her hands behind her head to better cushion it.  She would simply have to remain focused, disciplined, entertain no thoughts of escape now.  She had to simply work to continue to irritate, undermine and aggravate Ja'varan into a precipitous action.

 

It would have been easier to simply end herself, Lillian knew that.  There were a number of opportunities that the cell presented that would have allowed her to accomplish the feat.  To kill herself or at least damage herself enough that she would no longer be of use and simply be discarded.  In the end she didn't have it in her to do it, and furthermore that was quitting the field.  She would continue to play against Ja'varan despite the odds, she would simply have to make use of what she had and that would have to be it.  What little victories were left to be had would be won.

 

Maybe there would be another opportunity to end Ja'varan's life, but Lillian was quick to dismiss the possibility.  Ja'varan would not be taken by the same tactic twice, and it was the only tactic that immediately made itself apparent to Lillian as a feasible one.  Ja'varan, like most channelers, was stronger than Lillian.  The only way to even the odds was to remove channeling from the equation as she had, but now she was too weak to take advantage physically, as the last meeting had proven.

 

Such thoughts and many more made their way through Lillian's mind as she meditated on the problem until she heard the door being unbolted.  Looking to it to see it swing open and reveal the darkfriend herself, Lillian decided not to sit up as the woman closed the door behind her.  Instead she chose to comment from where she was as she shielded her eyes from the light that Ja'varan created to illuminate the cell.

 

"As fascinating as I am, I can't help but wonder why you keep visiting me.  Surely a Forsaken's pet has chores to do for their master?"

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Sister of the White Ajah