Down with the dresses, boys are IN! ~Saline and Tirzah~

[ashara]

Saline's post

 

Rory had gone to class; their room was quiet but for the sounds of rain. Saline rocked her chair, absentminded. Where did she go wrong with the stitches? She had finished darning the tights, but tacking on golden birds and flowers at the sides made a decent fixing a rather unfortunate piece of embroidery. Doubting her roommate would ever wear those again, Saline set the hoop aside. She was waiting for her latest student, Tirzah Behen, to arrive, unworried about the Novice not finding the room. It was Tirzah’s second time to-day, the first time Saline had sent the sixteen year old back to the Novice Quarters to change into the dress she was issued. Not that the Taraboner really minded the boy clothes, in fact it looked comfortable enough to set a fashion trend, but the Novice dress was too potent a symbol for the initiates, especially one of her students, to forego.

 

“Turn,” Saline was moved to see Tirzah rise from a curtsey, touched by the gesture even though it was clumsy. Remembering how lovely Tirzah appeared in her breeches, Saline rose from her embroidery and advanced on the dark eyed child standing there. “Let me see your dress,” she said; a smile in her voice. The Novice from Saldaea complied, whirling slowly as Saline straightened her collar. With a last brush at a stubborn wrinkle, Saline sat back down, still smiling. “You are presentable. I’ll need to show you how to use an iron soon, but this is good. Sit, please.”

 

There was the choice of sitting on either her bed, or Rory’s. Tirzah paused then selected a bed without books piled on it. Rory’s then. Saline was not fussed about making her bed, nor was she shy about her messiness. “You may lie down if you like,” that was suggestive, as she picked up the hoop once more “Eyes closed?”

 

“Good,” Saline said, sticking the needle through. Her work calmed her thoughts, and she went through the same drill of words Mentors told their students since the beginning. They too had gone through the blooming exercises before. “Eyes closed. The rose is yours. Feel the sun.”

 

She continued, murmuring softly, not embracing the Source for herself. The Novice sat motionless except for the heaving of her chest, and the room was quiet as Saline crooned. Naught else was heard but the splattering of fat raindrops, and Saline as she exchanged the gold for a silver thread.

 

“Eyes open.” Their hour was up, and Tirzah was no closer than she had been the day before, when Saline summoned her to the garden outside. Saline saw the frustration on the young woman’s face, and sighed. Touching Saidar could not be pushed, not without harming Tirzah. As she was dismissed, the Novice dipped into another curtsey, but not before Saline saw the glistening in Tirzah’s eyes. Saline waited a suitable interval of time, a half hour by the clock on the mantel before she followed the Novice to her room.

 

In the doorway Saline watched the glow around Tirzah, avidly but unsurprised. It winked out, and then the glow returned. She thought she had sensed somebody holding the Source. “Well done,” she said; her words struck the glow from Novice away as Tirzah’s eyes flew open. “How did Saidar feel? You know, it is lucky for you that I’m here, since a Novice is not supposed to channel unsupervised.” She grinned at the boys clothes. “Did I mention you cannot wear that, by and by?”

 

[ashara]

The tempest that had been brooding within her since her first day as Novice, was now evoked and in full sway. She had jumped off the bed and marched out of the room, fast. Faster than when she had first stamped into Saline’s room, and lied down on the bed opposite her Mentor’s. Fast enough to ignore all gentle, but deft instructions Saline had been giving as she dashed out, but not quite best, for Saline had recognised the moistness in her eyes for what it truly was: tears. Angry, salty tears that she had wiped away as soon as they came beckoning, but as much as she rubbed at her eyes, her vision remained infuriatingly hazy.

 

It pained her that she had fallen so quickly about something so foolish, but her rage was far more controlling than the little needles of hurt she felt at the moment. That would unfurl as well, but later. Maybe at night. Or maybe now with Cia. Please with Cia. Or perhaps not. Lucrecia had had no failures. She was the perfect kind of sharp; keen, but not precocious enough to ruffle any feelings. The Aes Sedai liked her twin, like Tirzah had known they would. For once, they were the two completely different sides of the coin meshed together. Seeking comfort in Cia’s concern would prove useless, for there would be no comfort. Rather than consoling empathy, she’d have the worst kind of solace: pity. She’d rather have a multitude of stinging failures, before she would receive anyone’s pity, especially her sister’s.

 

Did it matter that she had tried this time, closed her eyes and focused on the exercise just as her Mentor had expected her to? No, it did not. Burn it, she detested emotional turmoil. Banging open the room to her, she burst through to find it empty. No Lucrecia.

 

The blaze wavered. She shut the door quietly.

 

A dull throb, somewhere cold, somewhere deep began to beat through her mind and soul. Beating, resounding, filling, but still dull. Dammit, she didn’t even make any sense any more, that’s how meddled up the whole Saidar business was making her. It was shaking and testing everything she had moulded herself into, steeling her to change whereas her heart stuck irrevocably to the present she knew and was comfortable with. The present that made her, her. Nothing more, nothing less. Who were these people to take over her life and liberty, simply because she could do such a thing that most others couldn’t? Who were these people to command and order her? She was no lamb. She would not bend.

 

Her earlier spirits renewed by the tiniest drop at the thought, she moved from the door, which she had been leaning against. Placing herself directly before the mirror every room was provided with, she faced herself.

 

First the dress.

 

It came off easily, slipping off her shoulders and tumbling straight down into a pile on the floor. She felt lighter without it, even if that was honestly because she now stood staring at herself only in a shift, the obvious pressure the dress had brought to her vanished as it crumpled by her feet. A weak breeze coming from the space between the door and floor slid around her ankles, rising as it accustomed itself to her body warmth. Shivering, but not because it was cold, Tirzah made for a package she had tucked away in secret. It was wedged beneath the mattress and wooden frame of the bed, a parcel containing all the belongings she had carried. A few coins, a dagger and one quill later, she lifted the carefully folded clothes. Her ideal wear- a crisp white shirt that hung loosely around her body, paired with thick dark green breeches. The familiar smell of the road and dust made her smile. Within minutes, she was transformed.

 

She took a deep breath, and lay down on her little cot of a bed. It amazed her how quickly changing back had calmed her down. The anger and ache had both been washed away with just one glance at herself, as she normally was. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander as it pleased. She gave in to light slumber, relaxing after the mentally heavy session she’d faced. The way she was now, her thoughts and questions would swim at random, and she would let herself slip into sleep as she did.

 

Eyes closed…

 

Don’t grip it too tightly. Just a light thing. The trick is always the aim. All you need is…

 

Eyes closed. Feel the sun.

 

All you need is aim. It’s like a target, just focus on it.

 

Feel the sun.

 

Warmth. Warmth coursing her veins, running up and down her arms and legs. Warmth filling her heart and drifting mind with only one need. “More,” she mumbled. She was in that indefinite stage between sleep and wakefulness, and she pulled at the sweetness. Maybe it was a dream, but it felt astonishingly real. Strangest of all, it felt like it was a part of her. Occasionally it would slip away, but she would pull it back and hold it close. She didn’t want to move.

 

“Well done.”

 

Eyes open. Weakness and slumber left behind, and with it the vanished the warmth. Just as the disappointment surged through and gained volumes, she shot up and off her bed, and noticed her Mentor. She had felt the urge to attack at the intrusion, and had only lost the defensive stance as she noticed who it was. After having felt so alive and vital in the dream, Saline’s explanation that she had just used Saidar came slowly to her, and while her stare remained-

 

She had just used what?

 

Dumbfounded, she paused. Simply staring at Saline as incomprehension lasted, when memory and realization came swinging back in a rush she smiled weakly at Saline’s grinning face. “I thought it was a dream.” And yet the sensation had felt real. Oh Light, it made sense. Nodding as she heard Saline’s next words, she replied matter-of-factly. “By the by, yes. I’ve a hard time remembering by the bys.” Hardly a comeback, but her mind was too bent on another puzzle. Pursing her lips, her eyebrows knitted together as she looked at Saline. “How is that possible? I mean. I just spent an hour with you that proved completely useless, and suddenly during one doze of less than half an hour gets me filled with Saidar?” The confusion on her face lifted as another thought entered her mind, and she grinned. “You must be bad at the whole teaching thing, then. I just used the words you’d told me while dozing, but when you said them so nice and smooth, what did I get? Tears. Ha, that’s funny.”

 

~Tirzah

Proud mentee to Saline

Gender Bender, all for Trend-ers!

[Lih-Lyh]

Let it not be said that Saline did not learn from experience. Why her angelic students always turned into such bastards in reality, she wish she didn’t know, but after Rory, she could only surmise that they did not really want to be here. Well, at least Tirzah hadn’t punched Saline in the eye yet, although Saline wagered she would have gotten a black eye had she followed the Novice immediately instead of waiting that half hour for emotions to settle. But Saline had invaded that space, the false sense of privacy of one’s own rooms, and there was bound to be resentment. The thought, almost triggering a flashback, had occurred to her on the way to the Novice quarters, but she continued on her path, secure in the knowledge that there would be no shying away from such matters, even if it meant being met with less than pleasantries.

 

There was a time for confrontations, and a time for stepping back, and explanations. Somehow she would have to persuade Tirzah Behen to stay, to work hard at her studies, and to submit to her novitiate. No easy task when the other thought you were a bad teacher, but the more important nature of Saline’s duty involved supervision, not for her own safety so much as the safety of her students, and if Tirzah had burnt herself out while Saline was avoiding the scene in the Novice room… From what Tirzah had been saying she definitely touched the Source.

 

A mental pat on the back was the most Saline gave herself for doing her duty before contemplating her next course of action. She was tempted to sound enigmatic and say something fun, to the effect that the power of Saidar worked in mysterious ways, but one look at Tirzah’s brooding face and Saline ignored the dart, and changed the subject, one which she found intriguing. She did not suppose the other did it for attention so much as comfort, if so, Saline wanted to know how that happened.

 

“Tirzah, tell me: why do you hide yourself in boys’ clothes? Do you dress like this at home, too?”