Something Positive (Attention Lillian & Saline!)

[Sam]

There they were again! Self-confidence told her that such a thing was rather impossible, and therefore should not be happening. Apparently the message hadn’t quite gotten through to reality. She was tired. That was it: tired. It had been happening for several days now, could she be that tired? She probably could. What with bed time stories and midnight wakeups. Fine, so she was the one doing the midnight wakeups and it was normally so she could steal a story, but who was really paying attention? Not her!

 

There was the slightest of all slightness of chances that Rory really only woke her roommate up for a story so she lie next to her at night, which probably wasn’t the best of motives, but what could she say? Saline was a peach, and so, so, oh so warm and soft and ... this really wasn’t the time for that particular tangent. It was enough to say that Rory was slowly turning over the options in her mind as to why her sight was playing tricks on her.

 

Rory was lying on her back on the grass and channelling into the air, it was nice and relaxed where she was, and fun to watch the slow evaporation of whatever it was she was seeing. She wove another quick thread just to see. Nothing fabulous, but large enough that the after effect would last for some time, and there it was, multiple coloured strands, not until the weave itself, floating on the air like a spider’s web in the wind. Fascinating!

 

It would almost be a shame if her eyesight was playing tricks on her, maybe she’d been channelling too much and this was one of the repercussions. She had heard that channelling too much wasn’t a good thing, was this why? Or was it that she was become more adept at channelling and it was something that all those who touch saidar see in time? Saline had never mentioned it and neither had Lillian, but she could be hopeful.

 

Rory grinned stupidly when the faces of Saline and Lillian appeared in her line of vision and peered down at her, probably expecting some hellish prank or another. Not that Rory went in for that sort of thing. No, no, definitely not! Rory sat up, brushed her hands together for no apparent reason other than habit and got to her feet.

 

“Watch” she said to no one in particular, certain she would have their undivided attention once they saw what she was talking about. Rory whipped up a large and complex weave, by her standards, a sphere engaging each of the five threads. She had discovered through her own trial and error that the larger the weave and more engaging, the more amazing the after effect.

 

The sphere appeared as a ripple ad a glimmer in the air, but that was not important as the two women could see the nature and design of her weave the same as she could. Once it was completed she released the weave and watched how the silky spider-web wisps floated and drifted in the air. She turned to her two friends, aiming one hand in the direction of her new discover and asked, “Now, what do be up with that?”

[Lih-Lyh]

Saline, fond of stories as she was, had read recently in her Bestiary about a mythical creature with dark regions around its eyes, and was even more fond of calling her roommate panda as the nights grew longer. Rory appeared tired, and her strange insomnia was worrying at the Taraboner, she kept expecting the other to play a trick on her of some sort which would explain her fretting all away, though perhaps she should demand a kiss for the wear and tear in between.

 

She sat, attentive to the show she had been invited to. Rory had woken her early, as she had almost every day since they became roommates, by brushing her lips across Saline's mouth. Banishing any further thoughts concerning the niceness of the kiss, and the welcoming of another should such a kiss be given again, Saline turned pink and was glad for the cover of the morning elements, or more specifically, the wind rubbing at their cheeks.

 

Wondering if Lillian had gotten a similar greeting this morning, and it was only idly as she knew the other would not mock the Aes Sedai, whom Rory, and herself too, she reckoned, regarded as a guide and teacher, somebody to come to in times of need or question, not to tease. And was Saline, the roommate and constant companion,  somebody to tease? Hah, well, watch out, she would tease Rory back!

 

Next time it was private, that was. Focus! The thought whipcracked through a mind fogged with half devised plots, back to the present. After smoothing her skirts again over the grass, she trained her eyes on the globe that Rory was showing them. It was neat, unlike the globe of light Rory sometimes woke her with, as it comprised of every element Rory had spun into one another delicately, and Saline, never artful, had to admire the deftness with which Rory directed her flows as the weave glittered into creation. The Illianer reminded her of a master Glassblower eyeing the works of his craft, with pride. The multicoloured sphere had dissipated already, when Rory turned as if to ask her opinion.

 

Dry mouthed, Saline licked her chapped lips where they tingled slightly (after effects?), and said. “Pretty.”

 

[Sam]

Surety was not clear but suspicion raised its ugly banner and paraded around the fairground of Rory’s frontal lobe. It had appeared to she, who had been paying the utmost of attention to their faces, that they had not, in fact, responded to the spider’s webs, at all, and she wasn’t sure whether to be pleased, or whether to be unhappy about this. They were either purposefully ignoring it, in which case it was perfectly normal, or they were unaware of it, in which case there was something tragically wrong in Rory’s brain and she needed a very long nap ... maybe she could encourage Saline to come along?

 

Rory weaved a few more weaves to be certain, asking the pair to watch every single time, and every single time they completely ignored the spider’s webs. The weaves were pretty, but not nearly as pretty as what came after. If it continued to happen Rory would need to give the phenomenon a name. Spider’s webs was as good a title as any other, but maybe there already was a name for the problem and she should have consulted the library before inviting them along. They weren’t being very helpful.

 

She wasn’t about to waste the opportunity after having sent some poor novice scurrying to fetch them—doing that was secretly very entertaining—and if subtlety was not going to work, and neither would repeated exposure and or hinting, then she would have to bring it up in actual conversation and risk sounding like a complete and utter imbecile. Nothing new there; what did she have to lose?

 

“I cannot help but think that you do not be seeing what I do be trying to show you.  I no do be concerned with the weaves themselves--thanks much for the compliments anyway!--but the part that do be coming after. I no do be sure if you can see it. Can you see it? Is it natural? I do no be hearing of it before.

 

"It started happening a few days ago and hasn’t stopped since and I do be getting slightly worried. Every time I do be completing a weave and it vanishes, I be seeing all sorts of strange ... how do I be explaining this. When cloth do be wearing around the edges you get loose fibres? That do be how it looks. I have called them Spider’s webs. Do either of you be knowing what I do be talking about?” The last carried an undercurrent of petulance.

 

[Wayfarer]

It was rather queer.

 

That was Lillian's thought as she heard Rory's explanation for what she saw.  Lillian couldn't remember ever seeing a weave act in the fashion that Rory had described, and furthermore she most certainly hadn't seen it just then.  Neither had Saline for that matter, the pair of them were at a loss as to what Rory was actually seeing.  In fact, Lillian was rather worried that Rory was seeing something that the pair of them were not.  It would suggest that her friend was just a touch unbalanced, and Lillian didn't like that particular thought at all.

 

But that wasn't the thing that made her feel weird about the entire situation, indeed it was actually a nagging thought at the back of her mind.  Although Lillian couldn't ever remember witnessing what Rory was claiming, there was something else that was proving rather elusive.  It teased the edges of her mind, causing her brows to furrow in concentration unconsciously.  She knew there was something now, but what it was refused to make itself kn-

 

"Rory, I want you to turn around."  Her frown deepening as Rory began to ask why, it was enough to get the Illianer to turn around so she couldn't see her or Saline.  Embracing the source, Lillian let it course through her as she wove the image of the Mistress of Novices.  Maintaining it for a few seconds, Lillian allowed it to wink out of existance as she released the one power.

 

"Rory, turn back to us.  If you can see your spiderwebs, see what you can do with them."

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Sister of the White Ajah

[Sam]

If Lillian thought she was queer, well, Rory thought Lillian had gone completely mental. You know, three crumbs shy of a biscuit, two wings short of a bucket, fifty cents short of a dollar; three whores short of a brothel, a bearded lady short of a carnival—even though Rory was certain she’d seen at least one or two bearded Aes Sedai.

 

What she could do with it? Was Lillian out of her mind? The spiders’ webs were wisps of colour, leftovers on the plate from a weave sandwich, or so she supposed, what could possibly be done with—oh. Hang on a minute. What was that? Rory had reached out with a thick cord of air, and the tendrils had moved! Which meant ... well, what did that mean, exactly?

 

Rory frowned for a moment. If she squinted just enough the spiders’ webs looked similar to an illusion weave, come to think of it. The wisps didn’t seem to be going anywhere, and the stubborn louts that they were, were resisting being moved around themselves. So she could not rearrange them, but then what on earth had possessed her to think she could? Stop being a ninny, Rory Baker, and start using that head that the Creator do be giving you!

 

Rory had once owned a leather thong. Once owned? Still owned,ninny! Her mother had made it for her. It was simple and unadorned but it was a gift and she had always worn it. Sadly her lifestyle did not agree with anything decorative around her neck, and often her rough-and-tumble interactions caused it to break. Each time her mother had simply added, as if by magic, another piece of leather to strengthen it. Now one could be forgiven for thinking that the leather thong was actually a beaded necklace belonging to a tinker. Somehow her mother had been able to add new leather to the old leather to remake it ... could she--it was worth a try!

 

Impossibly, she began to link new threads with the old. For some reason she could not explained they stayed bound. She could not shake the instinctive urge to shape an illusion weave. She had no idea what she was creating, but it after fiddling around for a while it began to feel right. Being one to always trust her gut, which was how Saline had gotten a black eye, Rory gave herself over to the urge.

 

It took forever, or what seemed like forever. Her magical inner sense didn’t bother to direct her weave and so she was all alone there, but it either looked right or wrong when she finished, the lines either connected in a way that made “sense”, or they did not. Slowly, very, very slowly, the weave began to take shape.

 

How long had passed? Who knew, if time were counted in ninnies, then had been several hundred ninnies since, not the most accurate of measurements. She was covered in sweat, and her breathing was heavy, but she did not know any of that, not yet. If she did, she would run screaming for the shower and look herself in there for hours. So it is probably better for the story if she doesn’t find out until later.

 

There, before her, stood the Mistress of Novices, which was to say, a sight most alarming to behold. If there were a woman more sinister and evil than the Mistress of Novices, Rory would not wish to meet her. It gave her a heck of a shock, especially as it was not a perfect reflection, but a hazy, slightly deformed and elongated Mistress of Novices. So there was something scarier than the existing Mistress of Novices after all.

 

Her imprecise weave fizzled out into nothing, and only the residue remained.

 

“Well … that … wa ... why … am … I ... panting?” Rory felt very weird about the whole thing. Then she became aware of her damp clothes.

 

 

 

[Lih-Lyh]

Rory sounded peeved, as if they were deliberately keeping a secret from her. What was Saline supposed to be looking at? Whatever it was, she was not looking at, and she looked again at the cute little dent furrowed in Rory’s brow, which was quite endearing though she longed to smooth it out. Saline pursed her lips as she gazed across the clearing, thinking. Slowly it occurred to her, and Rory’s speech merely enforced the notion that whatever those Spider’s Webs -- something in the way her roommate had pronounced Spider’s Webs made her think they would be capitalized -- be, might be separate from the weaves Rory demonstrated. In fact, there was a goodly chance that Spider’s Webs, to take Rory’s word for it, might be separate from the real world altogether, and that they were but a mere extension of Rory’s mind, which was what the White might have made of it all. She had noted Lillian’s frown, and would have bristled, if she could just... see the Spider’s Webs. However, as she was not party to whatever phenomenon Rory observed, she could only remain skeptical and silent, affected by the brooding of her companions.

 

If for a moment in her sub-consciousness Saline was inclined to feign a response so that her roommate might feel better about whatever she was seeing, it was banished as soon as her active mind conceived the notion. Verily, Saline had done research in behaviour before, in particular the effects of social contagion, and were she a convincing enough actress to fake the ability to see the Spider’s Webs she did not suppose Lillian would be swayed so much as to believe in their presence; Lillian being the sort of woman who would ask, and ask until one gave herself away. Besides, she had once read a story to Rory, about an Empress and her new chastity belt, and her roommate might remember enough of it to ask them for a description.

 

No, neither was easy to fool; it was better to keep silent. She counted the days from when Rory began to see Spider’s Webs as Lillian spoke, in a voice that did not brook with protests. Saline did not even try arguing as her roommate turned her back, as a faint glow enveloped Lillian. The White drew Spirit and fed the flows into an illusion. Saline quickly stopped watching Lillian, distracted momentarily with her weave. It was strange not to have her roommate looking back at her, and, perhaps it was due to the early morning, but her eyes returned to Rory with furtive interest. It was only when Lillian gestured at her to hush that Saline flushed, and focused her gaze on the weave, leaving Rory’s well-shaped backside to boggle at the Mistress of Novices, instead. A lesser sight, in Saline’s view, but that was a view she neglected to share with the Aes Sedai.

 

The image dissipated, thankfully. Simply vanished into the scenery she had brooded in silence before, a silence that was broken by the rustling of skirts, and Rory faced them once more, more petulant than before. Avoiding Rory’s frown as she turned and looked directly at the spot where Lillian wove a likeliness of the Mistress of Novices, Saline could see what Lillian Sedai (Was the honorific spiteful? Yes Saline could be a vindicate woman.) was planning. She did not like it, for there was a good chance the experiment would embarrass her roommate, but some things were better diagnosed than avoided. Ashamed at having taken advantage of the situation, but not ashamed enough so not to do it again, Saline held her face very still, berating herself, all the while worshipping the image in her mind. None spoke, until at last Rory embraced the Source, and again she was left boggling at the Mistress of Novices, albeit a slightly distorted form filled with unflattery.

 

Yes believe it or not, it was even lesser a sight than the original, but what Saline boggled at was how her roommate had managed to guess the last person in the White Tower, with the exception of Nynaeve Sedai, and perhaps the Amyrlin, whom Rory loathed on principle. Lillian had known of Rory’s dislike for the Mistress of Novices, and might have selected her with this in mind. Nay, Rory had not only guessed the identity, but also somehow remade it into a replica.

 

A part of her mind balked. Was it even possible to bring back a weave that had dissipated? Perine Sedai, her Mentor had never mentioned it in her course on basics facts about Saidar. The only way to keep a weave was to tie it off; any Novice two weeks old knew that. But there it was, the Mistress of Novices, pipe puffing, smoke rings and all. Saline was forced to therefore conclude that maybe Spider’s Webs did exist, and could be manipulated.

 

Bring on the next question. If they existed why could she not see them? Was it similar to the glow? Perine Sedai had mentioned the glow of channeling though. But then again, Saline’s student Tirzah could only channel wearing boy’s clothes and Perine Sedai had not mentioned that either. Saline was not a woman so set in her way that she would not open her mind to possibilities, slowly. By now, the Mistress of Novices had dissipated, and Saline had to concede, and reconcile herself equally grudgingly that her Mentor did not know all there was to learn about Saidar. Once that had been established, Saline saw the potentials for such a trick, many of which tickled her. Laughing, she patted her roommate on the back. “That was cool; can I learn?”

 

With that, her hand came away quickly. Not because of the dampness, so much as she enjoyed touching Rory too much for comfort. She did not wipe the sweat off, though.

[Wayfarer]

Unexpected.

 

That was the first thing that came to Lillian's mind when the somewhat elongated image of the Mistress of Novices appeared before them.  It had taken Rory a quarter of an hour, but Lillian had been patient and she'd made sure that Saline was as well.  It had taken a toll on Rory, little wonder considering how much power the girl had expended playing about with her spiderwebs.  With time that would become a lot easier, once she learned what she was doing and how to manipulate her particular talent.

 

Remaining silent as Saline praised her mentee and friend, Lillian answered her question easily enough now that she knew the answer to what had transpired and of the spider webs.  "No Saline, you can't.  Neither can I for that matter.  It appears that Rory has a talent, some contend its a mutation of the ability to channel, others that its simply a gift that is bestowed upon a few who can channel.  These things can't be learned, either a person can do it or they cannot."

 

Focusing her attention on Rory, Lillian's face was neutral as she spoke.  "It goes by a number of names, though weave resurrection is one of the more common, or residue resurrection.  When we channel and use a weave, the weave doesn't just simply disappear.  It does for most channelers, but for a few they can read the residue much in the way a hunter reads the trail that its prey has left behind.  You can use this ability to read what weaves were used and replicate them.  This only applies to weaves left by people of your gender though, a female cannot read the residue of a male's channeling."

 

"There is also something else you will need to consider.  Sisters with talents are not common, you need to be aware that those who are aspiring to sisterhood become that much more...  worthy of attention?  Every Ajah could think of a use for a sister with such a talent.  You might want to consider who you tell and who you do not, and whether you want to conceal your ability or not.  It might prove a handy ace up your sleeve should you someday need it."

 

"But, that decision is yours to make."  Smiling, Lillian added.  "For some reason, I do not see it as my place to inform my sisters of your ability.  You will need to decide, I'll leave the pair of you to discuss it."  Turning, Lillian left the pair of them to discuss what had happened.  It needed to be her choice as to whether to keep her ability to herself or to allow others to know.  Personally, Lillian would have concealed it, but she was not Rory and Rory was most certainly not her.

 

Her choice was her own.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Sister of the White Ajah

[Lih-Lyh]

Rory, gifted? Saline found herself to be genuinely pleased about her roommate’s newfound abilities. She remembered how Perine Sedai had told her not so long ago that only two to three percent of the population could channel, and now Lillian was talking about few of that minor faction, making Rory the rarest of the rare. Yes, that sounded good, even if Saline was unable to see those Spider’s Webs herself. Lillian told her she couldn’t, and she put a great stock into Lillian’s words. After all, the White knew about this residue resurrection, didn’t she?

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Saline beamed at her sweat-sodden roommate, and led them to the back of the Yards, where she went to change after her sessions with Lyssa. Opening the stall, she beckoned for Rory to go in. There were sometimes other female trainees about, but not this morning. A look at the sun told Saline that it was less morning than noon, a realisation soon enforced by the growling in her stomach. Waiting outside after channeling a wisp of Fire into the rocks that heated the steams, she scrubbed her hands into a trough, and taking out her spare breeches, the bottom of which had the rainbow hems of an Accepted sewn meticulously in, from a cubby where she had stowed her exercise clothes; she wanted a turn in the steams as well, but decided that Rory would be hungry after taxing herself so. Besides, the thought of being unclothed in front of Rory caught her off-guard, and seeing Rory clad only in the fog… Cooled hands dabbed hastily at her face. It burned.

 

What was taking her? The curls shook as Saline draped her long shirt and breeches over the stall-top, and said so the other could hear her over the sizzling, “Decent or no, one minute more and I’m coming in.” Amazing how fast the woman could move when she wanted to; in no time at all Rory was presentable, and if her breeches were a tad baggy, well, that was no fault of Saline’s. Rory would thank her later.

 

“Shall we?” Grinning Saline walked with her companion at a set pace to the shed for a bite (there were pink little cakes sprinkled with almonds for dessert), then the even more familiar path to the Tower library for a few books on residue resurrection, in the reference section. Saline had to tell the Accepted manning the desk that Lillian Sedai’s instructions were for them to discuss the talent, which was true, before they were permitted to check out their books.

 

[Sam]

Rory was by no means a clean freak. She liked dirt, she liked mud; she even liked the two together. There was nothing wrong with being covered head to foot in muck, goop, or slime, so long as it wasn’t dairy run off, sewer run off, the aftermath of a very large horse’s sneeze, or sewer run off. Why did she mention sewer twice; why, it was doubly important.

 

There were just some things that transcended the crossed the border between good clean, dirty fun, and, “Get it off, get it off!” And while sweat had its unique attractive quality on another, for instance: Saline’s damp forehead after weapons training, but there was a limit to what was tolerable when it came to her own person, and the warm, sticky cling of her accepted dress was in direct breach of the contract. Yuck!

 

Saline could have been a messenger from the Creator him or herself for the smile Rory turned upon here when she spoke the magic words, “let’s get you cleaned up.” She resisted the urge to grab Saline’s hand (as sweaty as her own was) as the other led her wherever it is they were going. Having not been privy to weapons training, or rather unwilling to commit despite Saline’s coaxing, she had never seen the steam room, and was more comfortable bathing alone—in water.

 

The steam was nicer than expected and with Saline guarding the door she only had to worry about Saline herself deciding to peek in, and given how often Rory had threatened Saline with such treatment it was definitely something to be wary of. It wasn’t that Rory was shy about her body, being naked could be a lot of fun, so long as no one else saw it. It had been humiliating during her accepted testing to disrobe in front of all. Those. Faces. If she had had a choice, it would have been Saline there, not them. Not that she wanted Saline to see her naked! It was just that she was more comfortable with her roommate than some unknown Aes Sedai.

 

Scratch good, the steam felt great. Rory was quite content to bathe (figuratively) in the steam tickling her body while at the same time moistening it enough so she might scrub it clean. So great that she only remembered to leave when Saline threatened the privacy of her new sanctuary and sent her scurrying for clothes too big. They were obviously Saline’s.

 

It felt strange to be in the clothes of another, yet not uncomfortable. She imagined how the clothing would sit on Saline’s shapelier frame, larger at the hips and—after noticing the slack around her sternum—clearly the bust as well. The clothing carried the distinct smell of her roommate, lots of soap and the irrepressible scent of Saline’s clean skin. Rory gathered the vesture closer to her body, and not for the misfit.

 

Then she trotted with her roommate to source (har, har) as many books on the subject of residue resurrection as she could.

 

 

[Lih-Lyh]

Under the juniper, Rory was laughing when she saw the book propped in Saline’s hand, Common causes of headaches. It brought back good memories, and Saline giggled along. They sprawled their books and themselves over the grass, never mind the stains or the dew as they read snippets of this and that, their murmurs filling the air with discussion. Saline should have stopped by their room for her storybook, and read …

 

It was evening when Saline woke up, groggy but aware of her arm being flung on top of her roommate’s chest. Gaping, she withdrew and cradled it as if burnt. Rory napped on, her features striking in the moonlight. Admiring her roommate for a mere moment, then Saline was ready for action.

 

Sing-songy: “Wakey wakey!” Smiling widely, she latched onto Rory’s hands and dragged Rory up, merciless. “We’ll sleep in the room.” Kissing the other impulsively, in retaliation for this morning, she brazenly slung an arm around Rory’s narrow shoulders and guided the other through the Yards, into the Tower, to the Accepted quarters where their room was. Once there, Saline cleared off the books from her bed, and patted the spot next to her once her roommate had changed into another dress. “Story?”

 

“Please.” The other burrowed into Saline’s sheets for warmth as she caressed her roommate’s hair, found the page, and began. “Once upon a time, there was an Empress, who liked so belts very much that she soon had several wardrobes…"

 

[Sam]

Rory had genuinely wanted to find out more about this so-called “talent” she possessed. Residue resurrection was it? Poppycock! Anyway, that had been the intention, almost. From about the moment when Saline laughed along with her at “their” book, Common Causes of Headaches, she was paying more attention to her roommate than to the books she was supposed to be reading.

 

Beneath the juniper tree it became worse, she started to lose her focus on the text—I have to wonder where she put it—Saline’s word were far more interesting. It was not what Saline read, no, but how she read it; the tone, the infection; the way her throat moved as she spoke and the brush of her breath against Rory’s cheek. These things caused her to falter in her own reading, and she bumbled over the words like a novice, flushing with embarrassment the whole time....

 

She woke suddenly, disorientated, a warm mouth upon hers. Her senses bathed in familiarity and she was not alarmed, instead she found comfort—too much comfort. The lips receded and she forced her own not to chase them, a bizarre disappointment overtaking her. What do be happening to me?   Saline dragged her to their room, too busy guiding to notice the slight resistance and agonized expression on her roommates face.

 

Back in their room, Rory accepted the offer for a story, even though her thoughts were elsewhere.  “The jig would be up,” if she declined and she could not bear her roommates scrutiny. She buried herself inside the sheets, and against Saline’s body. She felt sudden anxiety and began to tremble. She would remain silent, hope her unusual behaviour was taken as a symptom of the cold.