The days training was better this time, if for no other reasons than he did not have to physically correct Lavinya’s forms. She was making progress at an expectable slow but steady pace. But at least today all her errors could be corrected verbally or with a quick tap from the fletching end of the arrow he had taken on as his training staff. This was a good thing. She had distracted him far too much that first day. He did not want to fall back into that trap again; it was already hard enough to train her in those distracting outfits. They were far from practical for training with weapons. But it was part of her cover and she had been quite adamant that no matter what circumstance arrived the dress for her kin would never alter much from what she continued to appear in. She had even had the nerve to subtly mention that the women would wear far thinner and clingier, as if that was even possible, if the circumstance warranted it.  What would require such a step he did not know and was far too nervous of the answer to even approach the question. The mischief that floated in those dark pools from time to time still set the hair on the back of his neck on edge.

Reaching into the cool clean water of the wash basin he splashed it across his face several times before collecting the towel to dry off. It felt good to be rid of the dust from the day’s training; a small smirk creased his face at the thought of the day’s events. Not only had he been able to keep her at a safe distance and allow him to concentrate on being the mentor he was supposed to be. He had given her a good dose of what true training life would be like once this facade was over. About now if she hadn’t fallen asleep on her bed she was probably asleep in a tub; his money was on the bed. It was the safest place for her and it meant he had time to clean up and relax before this evening’s meal and another game of cat and mouse. He was largely getting tired of being the mouse, but knew there was little chance of that changing unless he allowed himself to slip as he had before. That had turned out worse than devastating. It was because of him that Lavinya was a fractured woman inside and Sirayn; he still felt a tightening in his chest after all this time. Sirayn was lost to the world and it was a darker place because of it. The light had lost a great champion in losing her and he was not about to let it repeat with Lavinya.

Willing his apprehension and tension away, Corin slipped silently into the private dining room and released a breath he had notice he held when the room contained only the willowy serving girl that had been assigned by the Inn keeper to his sister, Lady Lavinya. If they only knew the true history of his sister they would not have worried about the common room and its assorted visitors. But they didn’t and that was part of the facade they played at. It was that facade that held him to a closer and tightly held position at Lavinya’s whim. But for the moment he had a continued solitude and welcomed its extension. A solitude that lasted less than the first drink the girl had fetched him before Lavinya in her elegance swept in to the room and set the game at motion once more. Her affection was simple and for once benign in its offering, the perfect sister welcoming her brother. It was the lingering scent of her passing that became the first of the edges he would have to face that night. As much as he hated himself for it, he could not help but seek that light reminder of how warm and vulnerable she could be.

With dinner ordered and the girl out the door with her orders it became time to get down to business once more. In that regard Lavinya was the first to make a move from the facade with a simple slip of paper. It was a decidedly odd move that quirked one eyebrow of Corin’s as he accepted the missive. Noting the broken seal on the back before he opened it, Corin sat back and began to scan through the letter. He got no more than the first two lines in before his eyes cut a glance over the top of the letter to Lavinya. She was openly studying him, like a Brown with a new bug under her looking glass. A place and feeling he really did not like. But he let it slide off him and continued with the letters contents. He had tried to give off from The Great Game after failing to find Sirayn. It was Lavinya’s determinace and constant testing and pestering that had broken his will in that aspect and the games cloak once more fell comfortably into place.

alone that word at the end carried more weight and turmoil then Saline would ever know. His eyes lingered on it for a moment before closing the missive and passing it back to his sister. This presented a completely new set of problems for him to overcome. Why was the Creator so determined to test him? Still conscious of Lavinya’s studying gaze upon him. Corin lifted the mug to which his eyes had been fixed on and tipped it to Lavinya before downing the remainder of the contents. Somewhere there was a surly old lady with storm grey eyes smiling in glee at the turmoil that turned within him. “So it seems there is no longer a wedding to be had my sister. I can only assume your maid knows what she is about and this is indeed a necessary turn of events.” Eyes that had been studying the bottom of his empty cup now flicked up to meet the steady chestnut gaze from across the table. “The Captain and his Red Guard?” Lavinya’s silent head shake answered the question with the answer he expected. There was to be no one to buffer the two, and no one else to ensure her safety until they returned or she gave off the facade and claimed her present right. “That would leave me with two questions. One, what is my sister’s bidding in light of this, and how long is it to be my sister?” Silence befell them for a short span, broken only with the return of the serving girl with their meal before Lavinya could offer any answers. The arrival of the food was a welcome distraction from the locked gaze they had been sharing. Each searching the other for answers neither would give outright. A game that would begin again once the girl left the room, for there were answers that Lavinya still owed.

The influx in her voice drew his attention sharply along with his gaze. She had seemed almost

astonished or was it shock? There had been something there he was sure of it. Only now she

was once again the composed Aes Sedai that she almost always was. Was it all in his mind

again, the cooling of her nearness still softening the edges of his thoughts. No he was certain

there had been something there.

Corin’s gaze turned to a more keen and critical mentor as he watched her begin to set herself

into the stance and begin the motion of drawing for a shot. If she was missing anything or had

forgotten, he would catch her. At first her movements were a little jerky and unsure, exactly

what he would expect from a new mentee. But in short order a glint lit her eyes and she moved

fluently if not slowly into the corrections that he had guided her to earlier. He knew that glint by

now, mischievous and proud, it had become all to familiar with him. What is she up to behind

those long fluttering lashes? Trouble for him he was sure, the question was if the trouble

would come sooner or later? Beginning his circle again he watched her carefully, ignoring

her seeking approval. She was a student right now and as such would have to wait until he

was ready to offer confirmation or praise. Neither of which he could afford to offer too easily

less she forget her place in this present relationship. The simple thought of the word began to

unravel his thoughts and forced him to drive his concentration forward. Right now was definitely

not the time to be trying to figure out the mess of knots their relationship had turned into.

“Your feet are too close together,” there was no emotion in his voice; a simple statement. A

quick flick of his wrist sent the fletching end of the arrow against the inside of her knee with a

modicum of force. “You have to remain balanced or you are useless, remember that.” Corin

continued a second circle around his mentee seeking out further errors. Grudgingly he had

to give her credit. For a first start she had picked up the correction he had guided her through

earlier every well. He was not about to voice that credit but he could not deny it either. He

thought he might catch her daydreaming in her usual Aes Sedai head in the clouds state. But

she had grasped it better than he had thought she would.

“Okay, you are still a little loose and sloppy but it’s not the worst start I have had to deal with.

You can release the bow and gather an arrow. You will be shooting at that post in front of the

shed. For now I don’t expect anything fancy from you. Just a simple placement of an arrow

anywhere in the post will do. Mind you watch your positioning and breathing.” Stepping back

so he would be facing her when she drew her shot Corin waited for her to select an arrow

and return and set in her shooting stance. When she was finally ready, he watched her draw

the fletching back to her cheek and take aim. “Now hold it, don’t release. Just concentrate

on the shot and your breathing.” For long moments Corin watched Lavinya holding the shot

in place. He could see her finger tips whiten with the lack of blood flow, watched the tremor

build in her arm and the bounce of the tip begin to exaggerate as she worked to fight off the

strain. “Choose your moment and take the shot.” The release was rough, the string slapping

hard against her forearm as it sent the arrow speeding away in a silent deadly arc. With

a “thunk” the arrow embedded itself in to the side of the shed missing the post by over a foot.

Turning to keep Lavinya from seeing the small satisfying smirk that tickled at the edges of

Corin’s mouth, he surveyed the shot. “Not bad .... If there was three of them abreast.” His voice

held a small dollop of sarcasm but remained light. “At this range you should be able to hit a

single shucked pea consistently.” Turning to look over his shoulder at her he added with a slight

smile, “and when I am done with your training you will. Now again, and this time let’s try to hit

the large skinny post shall we?” With that he turned to face down range and waited for her to

gather another arrow.

Corin

Welcome to the yard :D

With a slight effort he let the comment wash over him and dissipate. He was the instructor now, the mentor. His mind remembered the task well and emotion stepped willingly aside as it had done so many times in the yard. Now it was only mentor and mentee. His eyes traveled over her form but registered only the slight tremble of tension in her arm as she worked to hold the draw; the nearness of her feet, the slight twist at her waist. Where earlier he might have felt a touch of desire at the accentuation the dress offered her hips. The mentor only saw the lack of a locked frame and a misplace of feet.  As Corin completed his review and circle, stopping behind her, he shook his head hidden from her view. Well she had admitted to not having much knowledge so he couldn’t fault her. But he had thought perhaps some of the influence of the Green they both had served would have placed a measure of knowledge or experience into her. Quickly he pushed aside the thought as a raw edge of emotion threatened to push to the surface on the brief remembrance of Sirayn. Would he ever truly recover from the woman?

The anatomy of the bow could wait until they were traveling. He had a slight need to see her gain a measure of physical knowledge and a modicum of skill as soon as he could press her into it. Stepping up behind her he grasped her hips firmly and twisted her frame slightly back into alignment. “You have to be square to your target. Once you gain skill you can learn to shoot without being square. But for now while you learn you will use the correct forms. You need to lock your frame,” his hands moved from her hips to her stomach pressing slightly to emphasise his words. “Power comes from the core. You need to lock it and hold your frame firm, not loose and sloppy. Head up, keep your eyes on the target.” Corin’s foot slipped between Lavinya’s and kicked lightly at them until her stance had opened to the point of balance he wanted. “All weapons rely on a good foundation of foot work or foot placement. You need to set your stance, ground your frame through the feet to the earth below; a solid anchor to learn from first. Then we will work on the light quickness of firing on the move.”  His hands slipped back and up to grasp her shoulders and pull them back slightly. “Open your chest up. Keep the frame solid, think of it as a deep breath.” One of Corin’s hands slide up her spin to the back of her head, “lift your chin. Pull your head back in line with your frame. Press it in to my hand slightly .... there. That is the line your want. Now move the bow up and over to meet your cheek so you can sight it correctly.” His hands moved again. One arm sliding out under her out stretched one to gently encircle the bow below her own. Stepping in close, his body pressing lightly against her own, other  slipped under her drawing arm, fingers tips lightly touching the string. “Steady,” his words where a concentrated whisper brushing the hair that curled around her ear. “You need to be strong but gentle if you want accuracy,” he could feel the growing quiver in her string arm as she worked to hold the bow drawn. With slight pressure under her arms with his own he corrected the angle of the bow, the position of the draw. His fingers brushed like a feather across her cheek as he guided her into the final correct form.

“Sense it .... Feel the form .... The bow an extension of your natural frame.” His fingers hooked the string and took up a measure of the resistance to ease the tension slightly in her draw arm. “Feel the solidness of the ground, the resistive tension in the bow stock. Imagine the light touch of the fletching at your cheek. Envision the motion that will complete with your release. The way the bow will try to snap back to it’s at rest form. The rush of the string as it is pulled back to the bow. The movement of the arrow; its sudden jump into accelerated movement. The gentle arc the shaft will take as it races the sharp tip to the target.” Corin held the form, held Lavinya in the form while he talked her through the motions, envisioning the movements as he had so many times while his father had trained him to hunt. Slowly he took more of the tension of the drawn bow from her as Lavinya’s continued to fade. “Slow steady breaths. Watch through the sightline as the bow bounces slightly with your breathing. You need to understand that, to be able to control your breathing when you are ready to draw and when you are ready to release. Speed comes with time and training. For now, go slow, feel the movements and note how each breath changes the line. Release half a breath and pause. This is where you would release the arrow. Once it’s away release the rest of the breath. Do not hold it for a long time or the sightline will begin to bounce again. Remember don’t fight it, relax and feel how all the parts work together to complete the whole objective.” For long moments he continued to hold the form and Lavinya in the form, matching his breathing to her own and first and then slowing it slightly to get her to match his as he worked through evolutions of breathing.

Slowly though the bow began to takes its toll on him as well and he began to feel the strain in his draw arm and knew the tremble would be not far off. That awakening back to the environment around him from the training trance he had slipped into brought back another sensation. His senses were assailed by the light scent of Lavinya’s hair with each breath. The light fragrance and feel of it pressed to his cheek quickly brought his senses awake. He could feel the radiant heat of her skin on the other side of that filmy material seeping through his clothes and into his own skin; could feel the curves of her body as it pressed against him.  Clearing his throat he almost released his grasp on the string. The sudden pull set his training into motion and he tensed again quickly to stop the bow from being dry fired and eased the string to its resting potion. Once he was sure the string tension was released from the firing position he quickly released his grip of the string and bow and stepped back trying to quell the feelings straining to rise once more. “Good ..... good.” He quickly moved over to collect an arrow from the quiver on the ground. “That was a good start. Now you need to be able to do that on your own.”  He examined the arrow as he allowed his skin to cool in the absence of her nearness. When he was confident he had control again, he nodded as if approving of the arrow in hands then turned back toward his mentee. “Take a moment to relax your arms and then we will begin again.”

Hmmm .... haven't seen once of these around for a spell so I could so be putting this in the wrong place. If so, feel free to roast me when I am back. :)

I haven't been anywhere near as active as I use to be. But if anyone is looking for me shoot me a PM and I will get back to you once I am back after the 12.

Happy crafting everyone :D

Corin

Welcome to the ... ummm .... well ... *dusts off his old trainee manual* ... errr ..... a collection of highly skilled and well tuned fighters who's soul purpose in life is to see the life thread of Sisters protected. ;)

But if you have the skill, there is a lot of fun to be had once those stuff guards are out of sight *grins* .... just don't let them catch ya .... oh especially if you happen to have the mixed company of those pretty little white doves from the Tower proper. *smirk*

Corin

It's like super quiet and I am as much to blame as anyone else for that on the BT boards. But just in case something does happen while I'm away and someone is looking. I will be pretty much unavailable for Inet access until after the 12.

If you need me for anything .... shoot me a PM and I'll get back to you as soon as I am back.

*wipes off the dust and cobwebs from the table*  Happy posting ;)

Linten

DOH!!! ..... completely forgot to post to the meet and greet .....

*runs off to craft*

The graceful flow of her shoulder as the sun’s rays kissed the small exposed expanse of her neck in the small movement of the shrug locked his eyes for a moment; enough to causing him to berate himself again while he forced his focus to her comments. His gaze watched her eyes and face more than the field of glittering death between them. He sought any indication of familiarity, of knowledge, or prolonged look of interest that might find way to her face. But the general blankness over the majority coupled with the weak knowledge of the bow left him with a very large and blank canvas in which to tease out a skill. On the bright side it would mean he would not have to break her of any previously learned bad habits.

The sudden shudder confused him slightly, not sure if it was brought on by the action replayed in her mind as she spoke it or something her eyes traveled over. He quickly framed it as a reaction to her thought as her eyes never remained on the same piece nor did they shed away from a particular offering.  The grin that suddenly set her face as her eyes met his own once more left him wondering briefly whether she would have rumpled his hair had she been within reach. Lavinya certainly seemed to have a better control on her facade then Corin. If it wasn’t for the twinkle that lit the corner of those deep chestnut windows he might have almost believed her a mischievous sister. The image soon shattered with the underlying tones of her final words and the expressed desire to wrestle. He could easily guess at what form of wrestling she was referring to and what the ultimate outcome of that would be.  He did not even need his mind to conjure up an image before he could feel the slight heat in his face.

Clearing his throat Corin looked back at the bow trying to regain his full isolated composure. “Yes well, we will start from a distance. A safe distance and work our way closer to a point that hand to hand combat is required.” He offered her what he hoped passed as a stern brotherly smile and not a sickly caught off guard smile. At this moment he wasn’t entirely sure what presented itself so he moved on quickly to keep from allowing the path to be diverted further.

“The bow can be an excellent weapon both offensively and defensively at a distance. A very skilled marksman can be deadly efficient at a long distance. But for you we will focus solely on the defensive portion of its use and at a moderate distance. We do not have the time to hone your skills to that needed for true marksmanship. Perhaps in time you can work to that achievement; In which I will put you in the care of a master for I am not one. But for now I can teach you enough to make you a fair skill at a needed distance.” Slowly he rose and pointed to the bow and the quiver. “Collect the bow only for now. The quiver and the arrows will come later.” As she rose he moved around the sun glinted fan, careful to keep his eyes averted less he find himself admiring the taunt fabric while she rose and collected the bow. His mind still remembered to well every curve and slope of her body that she now slipped into those man damming Domaini clothes.

“Explain to me the parts of the bow, indicating each one, and their care and maintenance. Once you feel you have covered it all then draw and hold it as if you were shooting at that fence post over at the stable.” As Corin spoke he circled her like a cat deciding the worth of its cornered prey, listening to her explanations and watching her indications. Occasionally his eyes would flick to her own, but their gaze never met. Did she truly understand how precarious his hold was on resistance and restraint? The great wall of isolation he had needed to hide behind had been slowly chipped away since his return and last night had weaken it far more then he could afford to let her know.

Corin

It took more work to hold the emotionless mask then he expected when his eyes met the deep chestnut of Lavinya’s.  Her gaze was filled with scrutiny as she searched him for something. What that would be was to remain behind her eyes it seemed as her expression softened. It would appear that he had past, the thought highlighted with her empty threat and half hidden smile. The night’s warmth was still too fresh to him even now after the clearing of the void. Too easy a twinkle found its way to the corner of his eyes, “of course Ae.. Sis. I shudder at the thought of your untarnished facade being blemished.”  His words carried a light hearted air to it as he tried to keep an open relaxed atmosphere between them. Something his heart seemed to forget as his mind took in her appearance across from him. Her dress and hair tie the twining shade of green to his own eyes as they glanced down her frame as if from an older comfortable accord. Too raw the emotions and closeness had cut last night. He fought off the tingle that threatened to paint his cheeks. Why did she have to look so beautiful; feel so soft and vulnerable last night. He let his eyes trail along the glinting fan of edges to hide the survey of her form that had taken place almost before he realized he was doing it. How was he to protect her if he couldn’t keep his mind about him in her presence? Her small breakdown had shaken his foundation more than he was willing to let her know. She had broken a sizable piece of that wall he had carefully erected between them and now he scampered to regain his footing.

His eyes came to rest momentarily on the tip of his own sword laid out to her right. That had become a physical part of him, and he felt almost naked without it. It was not the same blade he had come to the Tower with. That was tucked safely with his possessions back at the Tower. It was not even its replacement, it was simply another of the tools that a man of his station used and become one with. But it was the blade that he had taken with him on his quest to correct the wrong he had done. He had failed. Now he carried it as a reminder of how easily one can slip. “I am only a guard but while I am around my life will be your shield here in the present.” His hand reached down and collected the only edge not part of the fan. It was the rose marked dagger and his heart still tightened at its touch. “My flesh will part under the force of steel, wood, rock, or One Power; whatever is sent against you. But what you described to me last night.” His voice dropped slightly, a hint of confusion twinged it, “that place of this world and not. There I cannot be; I cannot be the shield you will need there.” The blade flipped end over end in his hand, “There you must rely on yourself and trust only your own skills. To that I can help,” the blade flashed in the sun light and sunk half its length in to the grass just beyond his folded legs. For the first time since his eyes had found the blade he met her gaze. “As you learn and gain control we will work our way through the fan and the other offering I could not procure here on our journey. For our present traveling needs I am simply ensuring my sister is capable of protecting herself once family has left after your wedding.” His hand lifted and indicated to her far right and the edge of the fan, it’s starting point a pole arm and a bow. “You will learn to kill at a distance first. As you improve we will work our way closer until you can kill at a breath,” His wrist rolled and produced a small blade. “But no matter how well you learn, this close is only a last resort. You will swear to that and to listen and follow without argument exactly to my teachings. This you will do or I will not teach you, this I give you as my oath.”

It pained his heart to say the words, to even think that he might have to leave. But he could not survive another blow like that dealt him with Sirayn. It would be better to sign on with the boarderland armies and die on the blight front then to live through that all again. He would not. One way or another, the loss of Lavinya would be the end of Corin. He let her study his eyes, his expression had not hardened; in fact it had not changed. The after effects of his deep contemplation in the void were holding and allowing him a measure of control he did not feel. Now if he could just keep his childish eyes from wanting to rove over her. Once he had her consent he slipped the blade back into his sleeve, “so sis, how much do you know about fighting and the items arrayed before you?”

As Covai and Arath passed by Linten flowed out of the shadow of the building where he had been standing. He had watched the small group make there way across the yard with curiosity. Anytime he found more then one of the council together in conversation he was curious. He still was not sure what he thought about this new regime. He just knew that so far he had not been called before them in bad light and they seemed either oblivious to his presence in the yard, which he doubted, or they were content to give him rope and see what he did with it. A prospect that tensed his shoulders slightly. Sparing one glance back at the two as they continued on with heads bent together around the corner of another building Linten pondered once more the strength of the man who had defeated Brent. No where near the power of the Dragon himself, but there was too much strength and skill in that man to discount him as a meek kitten or the puppet of any other that he had seen so far. The man truly seemed to be his own person, and for better or worse, he held the sway of the council and the Black Tower.

With the previous two now gone from sight there was no further information from him to glean in this place. Turning he headed swiftly after Nakor he set out with purpose. He knew little of the man personally, small tidbits that he had gathered from around the yard and that was about all. But the snippet of the conversation that he had overheard when they had paused near him before splitting up had been enough to tip his curiosity into action. These Wolfkin could be a great asset for the Dragon and the Black Tower. But his greater interest at this moment was the note about there mastery of the dream world. If they were as knowledgeable and talented in Tel'Aran'Rhiod as Covai had indicated, then he needed to meet these Wolfkin. Any opportunity to learn more about that strange world Linten would jump at. He hungered for the knowledge and it appeared his opportunity to sate that appetite might lie with Nakor and his assigned task.

Happy that the man had not taken off at a run or fast walk Linten was able to reel Nakor in without the spectacle of having to run after him. As they neared one of the barracks Linten called out to him. “Nakor, a moment if you please.” Linten closed the last few steps of distance between them and settled a relaxed and welcoming smile on his face, even if it did not quite touch his eyes; they rarely did any more. “Rumor has it you are recruiting men to make gateways for a trip to a stedding. As it was an open recruitment without a preselected list, I offer my services in your venture to meet these Wolfkin.” Linten swept his hands open between them. “Is there anything else I can do to assist you on your task?”

OOC:  I'm in  :D

The night had been long, or it had felt like it. But it had also given Corin a great deal of time to think and make some decisions. A few of which he did not like the answers even though he knew there was little in the way of options open to him. Some he was not sure he ever would accept again; no matter how much faith she had in him. He still did not understand or comprehend how a person could control another’s dream or what this dream world that Lavinya had spoken of was. But he did know the fear that was on her face and in her voice. A very real and petrifying fear that had gripped her like he had never seen before. How he was suppose to fight and protect her against something he couldn’t understand or even touch was a puzzle he would need a lot of time to work on. It had taken a goodly portion of his mind all night and his only solution to date was what he had laid out around him.

The small court yard in the rear of the Inn to which they were staying in was not the Tower training grounds and had little in the way of offering beyond that of a small patch of green in which Corin presently sat. He had left as soon as Lavinya had awoken and seemed comfortable enough with the light to let him go. He had made one stop in his room to collect a few items and one where the Red Guard was camped to collect a few others. That had made for an interesting conversation with the captain, but in the end the man had relented with his request. All that thinking and morning bustle had born the fruit of his present placement in the yard and the array of deaths edges that fanned out from a point centered directly opposite him.  At the moment they served no purpose, not until his new unaware student arrived.

While he waited Corin sought peaceful contemplation in the one place he found beneficial for such a quest. Sitting cross-legged on the grass and enveloped in the separation of the void, Corin took the time to go deep into the void as he had when he was learning from one of its masters. When it came to need for fighting and the Great Game, one only need immerse themselves shallowly in the void: enough to separate from the distractions of the body and mind to accomplish the required task. But the master of the void who had taught Corin had also introduced him to deeper levels. Places where contemplation became easy and the connection with the world around began to blend into one entity. He never reached the same depth as the master that taught him, but he had spent far less time in its study and embrace. This deep level of separation he had not visited in a long time, allowing the chaos of life to interfere with his daily journeys; journeys that would now require a great deal of clarity and thought.

He had passed quickly through the separation of emotion and thought, through the flame into itself. All came easy and natural to him now, rarely did he even think on the process. But this morning he had. He had taken the time to walk the passage into the void slowly and deliberately. His goal was a deeper depth, a place he had not visited in a long time. Breathing in deeply once more Corin let the blackened quick of the candle grow to surround him; blackness and isolation. Everything was nothing and nothing existed in the center of that darkness. He breathed again deep in his chest as if his very heart drew the breath on its own. Felt the flow of air fill his nose; a cool pooling behind his eyes. The pressure of it pushed at the walls of his lungs and diaphragm as if to remind him of his limits. For a lasting moment he held the breath within, savouring the growing warmth in his chest as his body heated the air; then released it in a long slow silent sigh. As the breath left his body it carried away the last vestiges of self and internal chaos. In the emptiness that remained he floated as if a stick on the surface of the ocean. Here there was nothing and everything. The wash of sunlight across his face held the gentleness of a butterfly kiss and the warmth of a lover’s lips. The smell of the grass and the dirt beneath it a solid earthy anchor to hold him steadfast and offer him a sure footing. This was the levels he sought. The place he had not visited in far too long a span. The jumbled puzzles that plagued his mind once more slithered across the glassy dome surrounding him. He watched each one with fascination; a child’s curiosity. The world outside held so many complex and meaningless requests of him. Why did it have to be so?

Misplaced trust flickered on the outside before fading back into the abyss. He had placed a great deal of trust in Sirayn. Too much in fact, allowing himself to be distracted from true purpose. If he had resisted the worlds follies of that relationship and listened more deeply to what was not said would she still be here with them? Even deep within the void, an answer to that question would never surface. That was the work of the Wheel as it was with all things. Once the wheel had spun out the fate there was nothing mortal man could do to reclaim it. It was an acceptance he knew he would have to accept even thought for now he could not. Soon he would have to close that chapter of his life and allow the Wheel to use him as it needed once more. As much as he continued to fight the thought he was slowly beginning to realize that the Wheel had not finished with his thread and it’s interweaving with Lavinya. His only hope now was that it was not his intense wool headed stubbornness to accept the new path the Wheel was trying to weave him to that had cause the remove of Sirayn’s thread. Even deep in the isolation of the void Corin could feel another part of his heart slowly die and harden. He made a poor offering for Lavinya but the Wheel did not seem to see it the same way.

In answer to his unvoiced questions, his skin brought note of movement in the flow of air. Small currents and eddies announced the movement and the slight floral scent tinged with vanilla named it Lavinya. Without opening his eyes he indicated to a place across from him centered on the fan of bright edges. There was a pause before he felt movement again; the brief cast of a shadow across his face. To what reaction she might have had to his silent indication he did not know. It was not necessary, only that she was here and kept an open mind. He took a few more moments in the peaceful separation to mentally prepare himself for their dance. They had found a measure of common footing and last night seemed to cement their present truce even more. He Hoped it would last, she would probably not believe him if he were to say it, but he hated fighting with her; especially with her. “I see you have found my note, are you ready to learn?” Corin opened his eyes, his face was soft but traces of emotion and exhaustion were beginning to edge his features as the tranquility of the void slipped from him.

LOL ....

Ahhhh Arath ...... thanks fo rthe vote of confidence. ;)

Just because I've been busy and not completely paying 100% attention (and a healthy dash of confusion) The first phase thread hasn't started yet has it? I took several looks at the Stedding board and couldn't see anything that looked like it.

Let me know if I'm wrong and completely out of my mind.

Thanks

Linten accepted the soldiers greeting with a nod of his head, “Seyneru, indeed.” His voice left just the barest hint of a possible question to that. The man had begun to seem a little uneasy around Linten unlike the first time he had met the man. Perhaps there was others whispering in his ear as well, or perhaps Linten’s past had begun to surface in rumours once more. The first he could observe and perhaps correct, the later he was powerless to deal with for now. But that could change in the future, perhaps. His eyes took in the lady with them in a quick measuring gaze. Yes now that he was close he was sure he had never met her before. “I see you have been helping a new guest of the Black Tower.” He had studies the wagon as it had passed through the yard earlier so he knew the size of the load and some of the parts making up the wagon load if not their exact contents. “It seems you have traveled far and will be stay long with us.” Again there was the barest hint of a question in his phrasing.

“But I forget my manners. Please, I am Linten al’Dracain. I am glad to see that the soldiers were able to assist you so efficiently. I once knew the man that lived here; he was a ... acquaintance of mine. I have not seen him in a long time. Would you mind if I waited with you for his return miss ...?” He dipped his head again to the woman leaving the question hanging as to her name.

OOC: No worries Neira, that is just Linten's personality. :)

As soon as Racelle had mentioned Dashiva, Linten's mind began ticking away. That was a relationship he was still trying to foster back into some semblance of balance. Which would benefit him more, to remain with the women until the message was delivered or deliver the message himself and leave Racelle to look after the newcomer. She didn't look like she was in any condition to give Racelle trouble. But if he went to deliver the message and something did happen to Racelle, would Dash blame him for any of it? A major set back that would be. But if he remained would Dash only perceive his presence with the women as a prelude to the past? Frustration tried to tickle at his mind but he coldly turned it aside. There was no perfect answer, not when he had not secured a strong tie to Dashiva.

Olivia glanced back at him and he ignored the attempt to goad him. She was a simpleton and he could see little use for her right now other then a quick tussle. He had too many more important things to deal with right now then the simple pleasures of the flesh. A niggling itched at the back of his mind; the whimper of his pet. But he steeled it away from sight. Those where dangerous thoughts in the present power climate of the Black Tower. Linten had been sure to stay in the shadows for the most part, answering any summons requested of him. That hiding did not stop him from watching everything that happened around him very cautiously. Many had begun to relax and go about life as they had before Brent was killed. Linten was not one of them. He wore the facade of regular routine. But his shoulder blades itched every time he found himself out in the open. There was no direct indication that anyone was after him. But wearing Black and surviving meant holding a level of paranoia close at hand in a loving embrace. Here a thought could kill if you let your guard down almost as quick as in Tel'aran'rhoid.

Olivia would never be leaving the Black Tower again so it mattered not if she truly found out where she had landed herself and in how big a mess he life was to be. Besides, the though of bringing panic or a bite of concern to the carefree lass brought a warmth to his heart. “You, Olivia, have landed yourself in the one light forsaken place in Andor that no one wants to admit exists. You are now a guest of the Black Tower, work we can find if Racelle has none for you. Get very comfortable, you will be here longer then you expect.” His voice had remained the distant cold it held since first arriving, until he spoke of her comfort and hinted at her imprisonment. Pleasure stroke the edges of his voice and a smile with no warmth pulled the corners of his mouth up. Misery loves company and the more souls that had to share in the misery of men wielding Saidin the happier Linten was.

“As for your message Racelle. I will personally deliver it to Dashiva once you have penned it. If he must be awoken anyway I will carry it and see that he knows where you are.” He offered her a slight nod of his head, he bowed to no woman. But had noticed in his travels that they seemed to appreciate the act of a bent neck at times.

Linten

Ashy

Outsider among many

It was a natural reaction when one was unsure of the company he was in. Or that was what Linten told himself each time the cautious action took place. As Seyneru filled himself with Saidin and wove a shield around them, Linten’s own reaction was to partially weave a shield to slam between the source and the man. It was not that he believed him a threat. But Linten was finding it hard to trust anyone he had not already known and had spent enough time with since his return to ensure where he stood. Too much had changed and the sudden attack and dispatch of Brent cut to close to home. Who was to say that the next time a member of the council showed up it wasn’t to kill Linten. He still had not found a way to safely approach and make a tie to the council. Too many eyes seemed to watch him with wary which he would have approved of not that long ago if it didn’t have that impression of calculation to it.

Relaxing slightly Linten watched the dagger tremble and lift into the air, the weave was fascinating. It made no logical sense why that combination would affect metal in the way he claimed but it was there before him. Pondering the results while Seyneru beamed at his accomplishment Linten came to another conclusion. There was a few benefits to this weave the man was working, but would it have the dexterity he needed. Some of the weaves they used would be very beneficial if only they could find the finite increments needed for the purposes he dreamed up. “Tell me Seyneru, can it work on the small as well as the large? What about reversing it, can you weave it to repel a metal object in motion?” Without waiting on an answer Linten reached into his pocket and pulled out a collection of small metal jacks. It was a child’s game he enjoyed from time to time to help center focus. Tossing the jacks into the snow in a wide circle Linten turned back to Seyneru and collected his dagger with traditional flows of air. “Now, see if you can collect each of the jacks in one motion. Draw them up toward you and then push them away with force.” Linten quickly wove an addition shield of thickened air strengthened with a heavy wrap of spirit. He was taking no chances with this little experiment. But if it worked? The possibilities were wondrous. Linten watched intently to try and record the weave to mind.

Immediately a retort was on the tip of his tongue working against the word he had just stated to her but her raised hand silenced it before life could be given the thought. Instead he silently agreed that she was far from blameless. How could she be when she was a tool of bloody Sirayn's sent to keep him in perpetual torment. It was not bad enough the way they had left it, not bad enough that she had disappeared knowing it would cause him pain and torment. She had to ensure he never forgot the mistakes he had made with her and so she had set another of her own creations on him. One she knew he would be helpless to defend against. Always the puppet master, even from the unknown she controlled the strings of so many lives.

Instinctively Corin tensed as her hand came to rest on his chest. His body readying for a fight he knew he would never engage in. Lavinya could simply pull his own sword from it's sheath and behead him where he stood and he would not raise a finger to harm her. He hoped he would at least move enough to maintain his head and continue his life. But he knew instinctively he would not harm her personally, even if it meant his own death. She had not given up on him. If she only knew what he had done, the depths he had taken to find Sirayn, the foolishness he had taken with Sirayn. If she truly knew him would she still call him a good man. Would she still find the strength to not give up on him. How could she, he had neatly sliced open her heart and packed it full of salt the moment she had tired to lay it at his feet thinking he would give of his own equally. He couldn't believe it, not with all he had done. It had to be more of the trickery instilled by their mutual prior teacher. How well was she schooled in Sirayn's ways? She had far more training then Corin; it would be expected that she would have the controlling sway. Had he not done similar for Sirayn in service to her goals? Why could he not accept what logic presented? Instead a small bleeding part of his heart whispered up at his mind Accept the peace. She is trust worthy. Her love is real, you have felt it; know it She played off his emotions and he was powerless to stop her.

“The celebration of a trainee raised to the Guard.” Corin carefully kept his voice neutral. He had offered her a truce and she had accepted it. There was no going back now and he was not going to be the one to break it; he hoped he would not. She just seemed to route out his anger with careless ease. Where had that stalwart control he had been praised for gone? That cool analytical thinking that made him a quick pupil and a growing force in the game. He needed that control back, yet she denied him it, constantly keeping him off balance. “We were invited ..... to the gathering at the Tavern. To join with all those that have the time to attend.” He still could not approach her name. If he voiced Saline Sedai's name again he was certain they would end up back at each others throats. Best to leave it for another time when he could deal with the emotions alone; where he would not be able to lash out at Lavinya. “As you hold my leash, if it is your will then I shall accompany you to the event.” The words were easy to slip from his mouth, but he regretted the choice of them as soon as they vibrated in his ear. He was suppose to be attempting to keep a truce. Reminding her that he chaffed at a command level bond placed on him by the commander of the Guard was not doing a very good job of it. At least he had been able to keep his voice even and neutral this time. This truce was going to be a lot of work, more then he had first anticipated it seemed.

Hey if you are looking for Ashy's and you don't mind taking one you are probably less proud of, Linten would be interested in the trip.

Let me know.

*slips out from under the desk*

Still here ... in and out a s RL dictates but trying to work toward more in then out.

Okay .... so super slow and late at the welcome ..... but hey .... we all know RL.

Welcome back Joc!!!!!!!  long time no type. Good to see ya again. :D

looking forward to reading up on your RP's :D

The news had spread fast; arrival of Dashiva Somtaaw back to the Tower was on the lips of every soldier he passed along the way. Most seemed to agree that he had gone straight to a meeting with the council and that a woman was traveling with him. That was a new piece Linten had not counted on. Dashiva was an individual like most of the men at the Farm when Linten had arrived. He remembered the man as a general good natured person with a strong sense of fairness. He had a strong relationship with the men back then and was a natural leader.  That was probably the main reason why Brent had exiled him, though it was really anyone’s guess. Linten had thought at one time he had Brent dancing on string only to find himself exiled. A rather troublesome and harsh reminder that he did not control the game nearly as well as he had hoped. But now with Dashiva’s return there was a new playing piece in the game; one that he might be able to work off of. He knew he would never be able to persuade Dashiva the way he had Brent and right now he had to still keep his head low. He was sure the council was still watching him eagerly waiting for him to screw up and give them reason to remove his head for the tree or feed him the wine.

No, for now what he needed was an ally or a friend. At this point Linten would settle for an acquaintance that might not harbour as must caution around him as the rest of the council did. But as the Father of Lies would have it, the council had gotten to Dashiva first. What their goal was and if they were indeed trying to manoeuvre Dash into some game of their own Linten would now have to wait and see. But he still needed to find a way to reduce some of the suspicion around himself. That might be accomplished if he could renew a friendship of sorts with Dashiva. But what were they telling him and how much of the Black Tower’s events since his departure did Dashiva know about? There was only going to be one way to find out. He had to wait until the council was finished with him and then, perhaps if he was not escorted by the council or one of their dedicated lap dogs, he would have a chance to talk to the man again. With luck he would remember the old Linten and not the later conflicted Linten. With great luck he would not have a lot of knowledge of the events that transpired while he was exiled. It seemed far too many in the Black Tower could not see or believe the benefits of what Linten had done.

If Dashiva was not going to be available anytime soon then the next best place to start would be with the woman that had arrived with him. Linten did not recognise her, but if she had arrived with him and was obviously having things moved into his house it was a safe bet that she would hold information that might make a reunion with Dashiva a little more tenable. With a last regretful look at the building the council was sequestered into with Dash, Linten turned and made his way toward the house and the small party there that was finishing up.

Linten’s eyebrows twitched toward a furrow before being stilled in place. Had the woman just tried to dismiss him? She was tied to Dashiva and as such he would have to step gingerly. Linten had not had a lot of contact with Dashiva since early on in his soldier days. But he was sure that Dashiva, with the connections he held, would have heard all manner of information on the happenings of Linten since then. Even if some was sure to be over exaggerated, there would be enough truth to set the man’s opinion one way or the other. Not something Linten cared particularly about at the moment. Not unless there was a chance to further his requirements through an ally of that stature. But that was whimsical dreaming, and whimsical dreaming would only get him killed if he didn’t keep his thoughts clear and his steps exceedingly cautious. He was no fool. He knew the ruling body here tolerated his existence only as far as they need under the requirements of the Dragon Reborn himself.

His personal internal dance of options and strategies was interrupted by the flash of a bright and inviting smile. A smile he would have played off of at an earlier time. Instead it brought back the distance cool look from earlier as he secreted his plans away for further thought when there were not so many others around to worry about. “The soldier will take care of the belongings and the nag as I stated earlier Racelle,” he nodded toward the other man. His voice was not harsh but there was firmness in it that spoke of command in this situation. He was not about to let the woman just wander off with this new stranger without a careful eye on her. “I concede that your presence in the Inn alone with her will suffice, there is no need to wake Dashiva for this and his early rise will be sufficient to ensure things are quite for the morning. But I will escort you to the tavern and,” his gaze cut sharply to the new arrival. “There will be no nightcaps before bed. You have had quite enough of those already.” Linten held her gaze for a spell longer until the smile slide slightly on her face and she averted her eyes. Good, the less the challenge the more likely I will not have to put my neck out to educate her.

~A pet? We had one of those before though we shouldn’t have. I miss her eyes~

In time, I will find her again. Our pet cannot hid in that Tower forever. Sooner or later I will find her again.

Linten turned to the other man in unrelieved black and gave him a few short orders in regards to the woman’s belongings and horse, if it could be called that, before turning back to the women. “Okay Racelle, lead our new guest to her one night of freedom. Perhaps you can better prepare her over her meal for the life she is about to step into. If not so be it. It matters not for the rest of us, though it might make the transition easier hearing it from one who has already accepted her new life. While you are at it perhaps you can get the woman’s name.” With that Linten moved forward herding the new arrival up to Racelle and following the two of them toward the tavern.

Cold emptiness remained in his eyes as he faced off against the woman. None of the annoyance and anger that he felt inside touched his face or let be known their existence in his eyes. He had played enough games that this simpleton was an easy evade to the true internal malice that swam in him at the sight of an unknown woman. At one time Linten had enjoyed the curves native to the female race. He had delighted in the joy of the chase and the heights of the passion that could be shared sometimes at the end of those pursuits. But that had changed. All had changed with the realization that he was cursed to the One Power; Isha’s abandonment of him only cementing the feeling of being cursed. The Red, though they may not have actually been Red, had pursued him relentlessly as he attempted to make his way back to the Farm. Now he was far more cautious. He still enjoyed them, once he was sure they were simple women, but only after he was sure.

His mentor had forged a weapon of tempered steel in his mentee. A mentee that had become far more then his mentor could have imagined. Linten was not the most powerful weaver of Saidin that lived at the Black Tower. But he was a greater threat then most game him credit at first glance; those that had faced him or been on opposite sides of his plans new better. The one’s that remained that is; present leadership included. Perhaps this woman would understand her situation better if he wrapped her in air and hung her upside down while he finished his inspection. Never again would he let a witch surprise him, never again would he be the hunted. He had ingrained that deeply in his pet before she was taken from him. An itch of a smile tried to touch his face at the thought but never formed. He would find his pet again.

The all too familiar chimes of Racelle’s voice filtered over them from the direction of the laneway sending the new arrival in such a spin that the wagon was her only saving grace to keep from falling. Linten had no ill will toward Racelle personally so to speak. But she was saddled to one of the controlling powers puppets and as such put her on the wrong side of the fence when it came to trust. Not that he would have let any of that show. In fact, they had really hardly spoken the whole time they had been sequestered in the Farm. She was tied to the only true tavern and kitchen in the place. It meant that a certain level of social interaction and contact was inevitable.  As was the solution she put forth.

Linten nodded slightly to Racelle in acknowledgment to her arrival. Before sparing a glance back to the wagon and it’s owner who now faced Racelle. “That is indeed kind of you Racelle. Your offer is far too generous for this event but as it is late and I do not wish to make the night later for others; perhaps your offer will supply an adequate solution for the moment. She will however have to be presented to the council in the morning. We wouldn’t want them to think we were keeping secrets from them.” That was the last thing Linten needed. He already had far too much of their attention since the witches were released and Brent was disposed of. The last thing he need was them thinking he was trying to smuggle someone in to the Black Tower.

Linten moved past Olivia to continue his conversation about her with Racelle as if she was not present.  “You do understand that her personal effects will have to be confiscated and guarded until the council decides what to do with her? She will also have to be watched mind you. She can’t just be left to her own in a room, even in the Tavern. Not until she can be properly informed of her new place and the rules and punishments that go with failure to follow them. I will not have this turning in to a mess with my name attached to it. In fact,” Linten glanced back at the swaying woman briefly before returning his cool gaze on Racelle again, “I will accompany you and the lady to the tavern to ensure there is no issues with her arrival.” He could have the soldier secure the woman’s belongings in a stable until morning. That should keep the powers that be happy with any luck. Well, as happy as they were likely to be after finding yet another non channelling person in the Black Tower to look after. In that regard he was still not taking any chances. Saidin still rushed though him like a frozen river with a shielding weave held at the ready. If this new arrival tried to touch the One Power she would find out what his pet had. No witch was ever going to corner him again.

Linten