On Orders from the Captain-General

[Ishara Trakand]

Ishara hitched the vine embroidered shawl higher on her slim shoulders for the hundredth time at least since receiving the letter of summons from a wide-eyed Accepted. Her velvet slippers made no noise on the tiled floor, the very color as the fringe cascading down her arms and back, as she made her way through the apartments of the Green Ajah. They were quiet, as they always were. No Green liked to tarry long in Tar Valon if she could help it. Ishara was no exception. She had itched to leave since the day she gained the Shawl. But there had been the Bonding to prepare for and attend. Being both Andor's Daughter Heir and a full Sister now had kept her duty and her place in the White Tower.

Now that was behind them and she had been making arrangements to return to Andor for a minor noble ball. Gareth had written that he would attend and her heart ached to see her brother. It would also give Ishara some time to see her mother, now that the two of them would be on a more equal footing- She stopped in the silence of the hallway and snorted audibly at that before moving on. Talana may be another Aes Sedai, but she was also the Queen of Andor... and her mother. And even if she had only the last title and none of the others, Ishara doubted she would ever see her firey-tempered daughter as an equal.

Blue eyes fixed on the gold, red, and black lacquered sword worked into the door. She twitched her already immaculate shawl once more and raised her hand to knock. Knuckles made a sharp rapping sound against the wood and Ishara wondered again why the Captain-General of the Green called her now and with such urgency. It could not be because she was the Ajah's newest Sister. That was months in the past now and Zamira had shown no desire to send out a welcome, so what could it be? 

[Deleted]

His own tea was growing cold, and Micajah wondered about Zamira's.  He would get her fresh, of course, if she asked it of him...not a command, but rather a pleasantry.  Or, more truthfully, just something to keep his mind off of all this waiting.  Mica never liked sitting still in one place for too long, and there was more of that than anything else for a gaidin while their Aes Sedai was in the Tower.  Suppose I could go down to the Training Grounds and spar with some younger trainees, he thought, the memory taking on a more amused cast seeing as how he had been a new recruit in those shoes not that long ago.  Yes, maybe he would saunter down that way.  Later.  If Zamira didn't need him.

She'll likely be involved in...whatever it is she meets with sisters about, the Trainee thought as he picked up his teacup again.  The craftsmanship was fine and thin, almost like an imitation of the famous 'Sea Folk' porcelain.  It was a copy, though, good as it was...true Atha'an Miere pieces were rare as jellyfish teeth now that the Amayar were nearly a century gone.  The histories were still vague on exactly what had happened to the pacifists of Tremalking.  Something to do with the Great War.

Something in the past, and not any of his concern.  Nothing in the world of the Atha'an Miere was, and it hadn't been for a long time.

Micajah heard a soft rustle and a sharp knock at the door.  He rose and moved toward the door within the span of half a heartbeat, his hand resting idly (or seemingly so) on the brass fish pommel of a sinuously-curved sword.  The door glided effortlessly open, revealing a red-haired Aes Sedai.  Mica favored the woman with a small smile, quick and polite, not lingering as he would if he'd met her in an alehouse somewhere.  He still did not know the way the current pulled in the Tower.  All he knew was that it could set a man adrift. 

"Aes Sedai," he said, his tone quiet as he nodded his head, resuming his seat and allowing the sister to enter.  She was, after all, expected.

[Zamira Dagaron]

After years of planning and preparing, events were finally falling into place, bringing her one step closer to possessing the prize she sought. Only 3 obstacles remained which stood in her way... Obstacles she'd need to remove. Persuasion, manipulation, and luck: These were the tools she'd have to depend upon. Failure could not be an option at this junction in her scheme which meant she needed to play a perfect hand. After all, her forthcoming opponent was a woman as skilled as she is in the One Power but also her target's closest ally. If Zamira approached this meeting with the right words, her opponent would remove the other two obstacles in her way without her even having to lift a single finger.

With the rap at her door, the game had begun, Zamira nodded to Micajah, who moved with an instinct to answer the door. He was indeed proving to be quite a wise choice as her potential Warder. She smiled warmly as Ishara Trakand, Daughter Heir of Andor and Sister of the Green Ajah entered her quarters.

“Ishara Sedai, please won't you have a seat.” stated Zamira as she gestured to her sofa before seating herself within one of the armchairs, “Mica, darling, will you please bring us some tea.”

There was no time for additional pleasantries beyond that, nor were such things typically her style. For at this moment, her role was that of the Captain-General and not that of a Sister. She'd summoned Ishara to her quarters to give orders, anything beyond that might rouse suspicion.

“No doubt you are wondering why I've summoned you here with such urgency. I've received several reports pertaining to the increasing attacks within the borders of Saldaea. Considering you are one of our most gifted Green Sisters in both the One Power and combative skills, I am sending you to aide them against the Blight. And I’m afraid, my dear, that I am also inclined to insist that you leave immediately.”

‘One obstacle down, two to go.’ Her next words required finesse.

“Perhaps Elaira Sedai could be persuaded to accompany you. She's already fought within Saldaea and has established strong connections there with Eshara Aravell. She’d be quite a useful resource for you and I'm certain she'd be more than happy to lend assistance to her longtime friend.”

‘With luck, that eliminates the second; now for the last.’

“Oh, and that Gaidin Trainee of Saldaean horse breeding stock, Taivin Rashai. He should know the land well and no doubt has connections of his own that could be of use to you. Not to mention, taking him along would provide an ample opportunity for you to size him up as a potential Warder.”

‘Yes, travel forth into the ravaged lands with your friends. Vanquish the shadow spawn and delight as you quench that appetite of yours for adventure. And whilst you play the heroine, I will plunge your brother so deep into the pit of perpetual darkness that he'll never see the light again.’

[Ishara Trakand]

Ishara pushed furiously down on the fluttering that threatened in her stomach. She would not be afraid Zamira Dagaron, Head of the Green or no. The man who stood in the entrance was of Atha’an Miere blood, by his look, which was stunning. Zamira did have a reputation, even among Greens. Her choice in Warder did nothing to dispel such rumors. Ishara took the space between one heartbeat and the next to appreciate the strength of his jaw, the breadth of his shoulders, before sweeping past him into the room.

She spread her skirts in a proper curtsy, not a hairsbreadth too deep nor too shallow. The Captain-General of the Green Ajah commanded respect and diffidence, that was certain, but she was also a half-step stronger than Ishara in the One Power. She allowed herself to feel that potential as her eyes were on the carpet below slippered feet. It was an unaccustomed feeling for Ishara. Since she had first drawn the True Source, only Elaira had ever come close to her in sheer strength, and the lifelong friendship between them made it a point of pride and comradery. Zamira was the first Aes Sedai to make Ishara feel not just respectfully submissive, but lesser. It caused an itch between her shoulders that could not be scratched. Just the place a dagger would slide in.

Rising from the curtsy, she was met with Zamira’s smile and pleasant words.

“Ishara Sedai, please won't you have a seat.”

Her eyes moved briefly to the gaidin trainee, Mica she had called him, as he moved with the rolling gait of the Sea Folk and the deadly grace of Warders. Every line of him looked poised, ready to do violence in the defense of his Aes Sedai, even while he fetched tea. They swung back to Zamira Sedai. Even the Trainee seemed less deadly by comparison.

She sat in the velvet armchair, regal as Talana herself on the Lion Throne. Her hair curled down around bare shoulders in waves, framing the striking lines of her face. The sky blue silk of her Domani dress clung to her like a waterfall to a cliff face. Hinting at every curve, suggesting every line, just opaque enough to keep from revealing the truth beneath. Ishara sat rod straight, holding her shawl in place so as not to let her hands pick nervously at imaginary lint on her dress. She schooled her face to absolute serenity, not letting a shred of her trepidation show. She took the offered tea from Mica with a murmur of thanks.

Zamira spent no time on polite, empty chatter, instead spearheading the reason for the summons straight away. Saldaea, the Blight, fighting Shadow Spawn. Ishara’s heart leapt! The adventure she had always wanted, the battles she had trained for and feared she would never see, held back because of her importance to Andor as Daughter Heir. The only dark cloud was the instruction to leave immediately. That would mean no Caemlyn ball, which meant no time to see Gareth.

Ishara half-opened her mouth to beg leave for just that one event before joining the battle along the Blight, but one look at Zamira’s eyes stayed the question on her tongue. They were dark brown, nearly black, with thick dark lashes framing them in her bronze face. They were fierce, gleaming with intelligence and a deep, sure power that expected to be obeyed. There was something else there too, something that tickled at the back of Ishara’s memory, dancing away just as she was about to grasp it fully.

The orders continued; ask Elaira to accompany you. Take that Saldaean Youngling. The first name delighted her! A reason to traipse off to the Borderlands with her dearest and oldest friend nearly soothed the sting of being denied the precious time with her brother. The second… She had seen this Taivin Rashai a time or two in the yards, more often before Gareth had left for the Black Tower three years ago than now. The two had been close friends and were often sparring together when Ishara would stop between studies to visit. She had never really spoken to him, however. He seemed a bit stiff for her liking. If she remembered correctly, he was skilled enough with the sword and she had been quite impressed with the skill he had with his wild, Saldaean horse. Zamira was clever in picking him as a guide to his homeland, though Ishara highly doubted he would be the type she’d bond as Warder.

Sensing the last was the end of her orders and an implied dismissal, Ishara rose, curtsying again.

“As you command, Captain-General. I will speak to Elaira and the Youngling Rashai. If you have no more for me?”

Zamira waved a hand in her direction, giving leave to go and Ishara walked briskly from the room. Once back in the cool interior of the Green Quarters hallway, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. A bare few women could say they had intimidated Ishara Trakand: Her mother, Talana, the Amyrlin, Avyanna Sedai, and now Zamira Dagaron. Suddenly it came to her, the thing about Zamira’s eyes that had unsettled her. They reminded her of a leopard’s she had seen in a traveling show once. Cool, precise, dangerous. The eyes of a predator.

Ishara pulled her shawl tight about her, despite the ambient warmth seeping into the halls from the summer heat outside. Enough of that. Time to find Elaira. Intent renewed on her purpose, she strode through the Tower to the temporary apartments Elaira had been using while she stayed for the Bonding Ceremony. Along the way, she had remembered her excitement over a mission not just outside the Tower or Andor, but to the Blight border itself! She rapped emphatically on the door, Aes Sedai serenity be damned. There was no one to see or hear her excitement.

“Elaira! Elaira, let me in! I’ve got news!”

[Deleted]

Mica had returned the flame-haired Aes Sedai's approving glance with a slightly raised brow of his own, the barest, faintest ghost of a smile touching his lips.  He was here to do a job, and not to eye women, but she was attractive.  Aes Sedai features didn't scare him - he'd long since lost most of his fears, including death.  Or whatever else the machinations of Tower politics could do to a man.  Worse than death?

The gaidin trainee sat quietly as the meeting progressed, seeing everything and no particular thing.  It was a skill that most Warders had, although he'd caught on muck quicker than most of the younglings in the training grounds would.  In his former line of work, watching all corners of a room without being conspicuous was just the smart thing to learn.  It was conducive to living a longer life, if not the healthiest.  He was finding that a lot, as he continued down this new thread of his life - the White Tower's world could be just as pragmatically gritty as hunting bounties...it was just the veneer that was shinier.  Smooth, white.  Just like the building itself.

He stood as the younger Green left, opening the door and closing it again in one fluid motion.  He gave Zamira a considering look, that same touch of amusement playing on his dark countenance again.  In public, he was silent, impassive, a coiled spring ready to be sprung at the command of his mistress.  In private, though, Mica could afford to be a touch more sardonic.  He quirked the corner of his mouth in a smile that did not touch his brown eyes.  "That one will find glory in the Borderlands if it doesn't kill her," the Atha'an Miere offered, even though Zamira hadn't asked.  He busied himself cleaning up the cups of tea, placing them on a silver ropework tray for a servant to get later.  There were limits to his obsequiousness, after all.  One did not chain a wolf when they wanted a body-servant.  "She is young, though.  Not long into the shawl, unless I've not been paying attention."  His look showed just what the chances of that were.  "A green Green and a trainee.  More than enough for any Aes Sedai sent with them to babysit."  He left it at that.  If Zamira wanted to fill in any of the blanks, she would.  Or, she wouldn't.  It was her prerogative.

[Elaira Taravin]

The White Tower wasn't as silent as Elaira had expected when she'd first arrived as a wide-eyed child whose name hadn't even been recorded in the Novice book. It had seemed self-evident to her, at the time. What would the intimidating, austere Tower, ruled by the eerily calm and composed Aes Sedai, be if not a place of silence and contemplation? In truth, there was life to the Tower at almost all times of day. Servants prowled the halls on tasks great and small. Novices scurried from class to class, eager not to be noticed by their betters. Accepted stormed the grounds, a growing sense of confidence to their actions. Warders lurked, so stealthy one could forget they existed outside of the training grounds. And Aes Sedai...they simply existed, their very presence drawing all the others into their orbit by the force and certainty of that presence.

Elaira had, somehow, adjusted to all of that. The White Tower had become a third home from her, after the Taravin estates and Caemlyn's royal palace. True, she'd never quite fit in with the self-assured and self-possessed women who commanded obedience as easily as breathing, but she was Aes Sedai, and the White Tower was home.

Or at least, it used to be.

The sounds of life in the Tower had taken on sinister undertones to Elaira's ear. She sat, alone, at the desk in the small Red Ajah apartment, nervously sketching in her notebook. She'd returned from Saldaea only recently in order to attend the Bonding Ceremony. Back in the Tower though, it was impossible to forget what she'd learned in the Borderlands, or at least what had been claimed. How could she forget words that hadn't been so much as whispered since the Last Battle? The Black Ajah was, according to a captured dreadlord on the border with the Blight, active once more. Elaira was unable to suppress a shudder, the line of her drawing suddenly marred by the motion. She was afraid, and her home was suddenly unfamiliar. Yet, in a way Elaira could not articulate she was also...determined? Angry? The idea of a Black Ajah was anathema, and if they truly were returned from distant history, she would do everything in her power to drag them into the Light.

The sudden rapping at her door ruined it entirely as she jumped up, on the verge of embracing saidar at the unexpected intrusion.

“Elaira! Elaira, let me in! I’ve got news!”

Elaira relaxed instantly at the sound of Ishara Trakand's voice. Silly girl, did you think they would come to grab you from your apartment? She flushed and smoothed out her skirts, fine gray wool slashed with red, taking a moment to compose herself. She moved to the door after a pause the length of the breath and opened it.

Upon seeing Ishara, Elaira's face instantly lit into a smile, though her cheeks were still faintly tinged with pink from the flush. Though they were of a height, the pair had radically different builds, and Ishara's coloring was much more starkly red than Elaira's own. Still, despite their differences in both appearance and personality, Ishara Trakand was one of three women in the world Elaira truly considered her sister (and only one of those was related to her by blood.) They had been apart for the longest stretch of their lives following Elaria's raising to full Aes Sedai, and it was wonderful to see Ishara again.

"Ishara! Of course, come in."

She stepped aside, opening the door wide and gesturing her into the sparsely decorated apartment that the Red Ajah kept on hand for visiting Sisters. Her eyebrow raised at the sight of the shawl draped around Ishara's slim frame, and curiosity began to bubble under the surface. What news, I wonder? Elaira's own, starkly dangerous, news lingered in the back of her mind...but no. Elaira would not endanger Ishara like that, nor burden her with that knowledge. Not without proof. Ishara had the weight of a crown and a shawl on her shoulders, more than enough without Elaira adding to them.

"What has excited you so?"

[Ishara Trakand]

The door swung open to reveal Elaira and Ishara’s smile widened. The flush in her cheeks and slight widening of her eyes, which served to only enhance Elaira’s natural beauty, said that Ishara had indeed startled her. Ishara swept into the room at the other woman’s gesture and immediately turned to her, grasping hands in her own.

“I’m sorry to have surprised you so, Laira, but I’ve got the best news!” Her grin stretched so far her cheeks ached. “I’ve just come from-” she stumbled over her words a bit here. It was not in her nature to keep secrets from her friend, but Ajah Heads were Ajah secrets, and Elaira was Red, not Green. “-from above. I’m to go to Saldaea and aid the efforts on the Blight Border!” Her delight was blatantly evident.

“What’s more, it was suggested I convince you to travel with me. Your recent travels and the connections you’ve made there will be an amazing aid to us.” Her excitement dimmed a minute fraction for a moment and a faint line creased her brows. “It was also recommended we take Gareth’s Youngling friend, Taivin Rashai. He’s a Saldaean noble, I believe, and would make a superb guide. It was also suggested that I consider him as a Warder.” Her nose wrinkled.

“Of course, I still intend to Bond Gareth as my first gaidin.” Had she seen a faint flush rise in her friend’s cheeks at the mention of her brother’s name? “Though, I will admit, his becoming Asha’man will certainly make a Bond between us more...uncomfortable in some ways.” Now was her turn to blush. She did not want to contemplate the reality of a nearly telepathic bond with her brother when he had thoughts of the same nature as Elaira, or his reaction if she had thoughts in the same vein about another. For Light’s sake, the last time she had kissed a boy, Gareth had revealed his innate channeling ability by nearly singeing Dedicated Mathin’s face off!

“Still. He is my First Prince of the Sword, and we both have our duties to Andor. It is sensible at the least. My grandmother would be pleased.” She grinned lopsidedly at the mention of Moranna. Their interactions had been limited, but she sensed a familial sense of fondness beneath her stony exterior at the least.

“In any case! I can not imagine Rashai being a fair fit for me. He just seems so...serious.” Ishara shook her head, causing the copper curls to bounce about in disarray, her cheshire grin returning. “So, what do you say Laira? Will you go on an adventure with me?!”

[Elaira Taravin]

Ishara's graceful entrance quickly swept Elaira up in its wake, as such things often did around the Daughter Heir. Elaira gripped Ishara's hands back and found the corners of her mouth twitching up. Ishara's smile had always been infectious, and the grin she was wearing now spoke of eager, joyous excitement that was impossible to contain or restrict to only one person. Something wonderful had struck Ishara's mind, and though she often found herself drawn into Ishara's adventures Elaira had never really resented it for a moment.

"I’m sorry to have surprised you so, Laira, but I’ve got the best news! I’ve just come from-from above. I’m to go to Saldaea and aid the efforts on the Blight Border!”

Elaira's smile faltered a bit at that, though she stayed close to Ishara hand in hand. The Border--the Blight--was dangerous in a way she hadn't fully appreciated before she'd seen it for herself. The Dark One's taint stretching from Shayol Ghul was real, not simply a tale from distant histories like the Dragon Reborn and the other heroes who'd carried the day in the tumultuous days of the Third Age. Tarmon Gai'don was supposed to have been the Last Battle, but Elaira had seen the Trolloc armies and the Dark One's Dreadlords, even engaged them herself. There would be more battles ahead.

Ishara would go, anyway. It was not in her friend to back down, and Ishara had spent her life preparing to join the Green, the Battle Ajah. Besides, if Elaira were one to lay bets, she would bet on Ishara every time. Elaria's eyes had wandered as she thought, and returned as Ishara continued to speak.

“What’s more, it was suggested I convince you to travel with me. Your recent travels and the connections you’ve made there will be an amazing aid to us. It was also recommended we take Gareth’s Youngling friend, Taivin Rashai. He’s a Saldaean noble, I believe, and would make a superb guide. It was also suggested that I consider him as a Warder."

Elaira nodded slowly, thoughtfully. The request likely came from the Green's Ajah head, whoever she might be, and Elaira herself had recently been to Saldaea under her own initiative. Elaira would be the best choice for a guide, and she'd made...perhaps not friends, but important acquaintances with at least one group of channelers protecting the Border. And Taivin...she didn't know much of the young man. There hadn't been much time to spend with Gareth as a Novice, and then he'd been sent to the Black Tower shortly after she'd been made Accepted. (She pointedly did not think much on Gareth himself, despite what the points of color in her cheeks had to say on the matter!) That Ishara was not a fan was obvious, by the grimace that passed over her face at the suggestion.

“Of course, I still intend to Bond Gareth as my first gaidin. Though, I will admit, his becoming Asha’man will certainly make a Bond between us more...uncomfortable in some ways."

Ishara blushed at that, and Elaira's blossomed into brilliant red light, nearly the shade of the slash in her dress. Ishara's Bond with Gareth, assuming Gareth also bonded in her in return, would be a deeper connection than most would be comfortable with. There would be no secrets of the heart to be hidden. Everything, including the affection that Elaira hoped Gareth bore for her, would be plainly visible. Light, it wasn't an exciting prospect.

“Still. He is my First Prince of the Sword, and we both have our duties to Andor. It is sensible at the least. My grandmother would be pleased. In any case! I can not imagine Rashai being a fair fit for me. He just seems so...serious. So, what do you say Laira? Will you go on an adventure with me?!”

Elaira willed her cheeks to cool and allowed herself to mirror Ishara's grin.

"Of course I will, 'Shara."

Elaira's voice was soft but warm. She had work to do in the White Tower, dangerous work if the woman was to be believed, but Elaira couldn't allow Ishara to go into danger alone. Besides, Elaira had missed Ishara. It had been far too long since the pair had spent any time together at all. A trip to the Borderlands, to revisit Lady Eshara, perhaps, would be wonderful.

---

Elaira packed hurriedly, though truth be told she hadn't yet successfully unpacked from the last time she'd left the Tower. Things had been too busy, too frantic, and Elaira herself had already been looking for other places to visit. She was a Red, now, and travel would likely be near constant for her foreseeable future. When she was done, the pair hurried down to the training yard to collect the third member of their party, if the was to be found. Elaira had never spent much time here; as a Novice, it was frowned upon, and an Accepted she'd begun aligning herself with the Reds, who still spent little time there as a rule. The sight was...interesting. She'd seen men and women fighting for their lives at the Border; seeing the training in a more controlled setting was new to her, though she'd watched Gareth often before coming to Tar Valon.

"I'm not sure where we'll find your Rashai."

Elaira confessed, spreading her hands wide. There were a number of trainees scattered around, going through their paces under the guidance of trainers. There were also a pair of Aes Sedai, likely Green, critically inspecting their efforts. She glanced over at Ishara with a shrug and a sheepish smile.

"I've not considered doing my recruiting here, I must confess. What do you suggest?"

[Gareth Trakand]

The vibrant colors radiating from the morning light reflected beautifully off the smooth stone structure of the White Tower. Gazing up at the tall building, Gareth found himself reflecting upon the first day he had arrived as a Gaidin Trainee... So much had happened and changed since then. One such event was the Bel Tine Ball held at the Palace where the youthful Dedicated had been swept up into the romantic aspects of the celebration. So much so that he shared a kiss with Elaira. Since he was a young teenager and his mother first put forth the idea that he should marry either her or Adela, he had wrestled with his feelings. But his kiss with Elaira... Something had changed within him, a feeling that he’d never felt before. With an errand bringing him back here, his desire to see Elaira again had increased.

Gareth originally filed a request with Jadin to visit Ishara after finishing his errand yet it was Elaira who dominated his thoughts... These desires which brewed inside needed addressing and Gareth knew just who to discuss them with. First, he had his errand to see to. After delivering a small package to the Amyrlin, the 1st Prince made his way out to the training yard to find Taivin.

The familiar sights of Gaidin Trainees sparing off against practice dummies or each other brought back many fond memories. And while he reminisced, a particular figure caught his eye. To his surprise, Ishara was in the yard! Gareth began to walk towards her when he caught sight of Elaira beside his sister. His lips split into a wide smile as his whole face lit up. Glimmers of light danced within her goldish-red curls as the corners of her lips curled into a warm smile. She was such a vision of beauty and warmth that he could feel his heart race a little faster as he drew nearer. He longed to kiss her again, to hold her in his arms and feel the warmth of her body pressed against his. Gareth felt his cheeks flush.

With Ishara within his line of sight, he recalled their intentions to bond; once they did so, she'd know what he was feeling. Though no doubt she'd be delighted by his attraction to her best friend, Gareth wasn’t quite ready for her to know what was in his heart. Maybe that confidence would come to him or... Perhaps he’d always find himself tripping over how to behave around the pair of them together. There was only one way to find out. As he approached from behind them, Gareth caught the last bit of their conversation.

"I'm not sure where we'll find your Rashai."

Ready to intercede, Gareth opened his mouth until Elaira spoke up again.

"I've not considered doing my recruiting here, I must confess. What do you suggest?"

A flood of emotions overcame him at the idea of Elaira bonding, well anyone! At how much his stomach turned or how strongly he despised such an act unless that person was him...

An expression of surprised realism overcame him much like a tidal wave crashing upon the rocks. What had been so unclear only moments ago now held certainty. He WAS in love with Elaira. As if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, Gareth felt lighter. But not just lighter, he felt as if he was seeing everything for the very first time. The world had become a much more alive, beautiful place and he wanted to shout what he was feeling from the mountain tops... But what if she didn't feel what he felt?! Gareth suddenly realized that his heart would shatter into a million pieces to live his life without her by his side... He needed Elaira's answer but it was an answer which would have to wait until he could get her alone. All he could do was hope for an opportunity to present itself while he was here.

"And what, might I ask, are you two up to?! Is it anything that requires the services of an additional partner in crime?!" interjected the 1st Prince in a suave playful tone as he finally made his presence known.

[Zamira Dagaron]

“As you command, Captain-General. I will speak to Elaira and the Youngling Rashai. If you have no more for me?”


An enigmatic stare coupled with a dismissive wave of her hand was all the response she'd give Ishara. The Daughter Heir would do as she'd instructed, there was no more need for silver-tongued words. The hand had played out and the cards were turned up in her favor. As for the prize... She'd claim that soon enough. So as the newly appointed Green Sister exited her quarters, Zamira filled with absolute rapture. In one masterful stroke, she'd eliminated three of the most important pieces in a game only she knew was being played. Now only the Queen stood in her way of claiming her Prince. Raven curls catching glimmers from the candlelight spun through the air as a sharp turn had Zamira facing her Warder. A wide grin painted her full lips as she eyed the youth up and down, deciding she deserved a bit of fun.


“That one will find glory in the Borderlands if it doesn't kill her. She is young, though. Not long into the shawl, unless I've not been paying attention.”


“Nothing escapes you Micajah, my dear.”


Blue Domani silk was slipped off her shoulders as she allowed the garment to crumple to the ground. Beautiful chocolate curves swayed as she crossed the room closing the space between them. Surprisingly soft hands for one who could so expertly wield a dagger caressed his cheek. Nimble fingers began to undo buttons upon his vest as lustful eyes peered into his.


“You are right of course, Ishara has been within the shawl for but a few months but she is a lioness. I quiver for any that dare to cross her wit that isn't at least her equal. I'd even wager she will rival her great-grandmother's legacy one day.”


After the vest had been peeled off, Zamira took a playful grasp of his shirt and began to kiss down along his neck. True this course of action had been a spur of the moment decision but with their bodies pressed together, she found herself contented. A romp in the sheets with Micajah would make for a delightful manner to pass the time until her meeting with her darkfriend contact. So with his shirt still clutched within her fist, she began to lead him towards the bedchamber.


“Though I do not doubt how she shall indeed give plenty of the Aes Sedai stationed within Saldaea their fair share of headaches.” commented Zamira with an amused smirk right before she shoved him down onto her bed, “But enough about her, all I want to focus on now is pure pleasure.”

[Ishara Trakand]

Ishara’s heart trumpeted with glee as Elaira accepted her travel invitation. She excused herself and ran to pack her own bags as Elaira was doing. A Novice was waiting at the door of her chambers with a sealed envelope on a tray. Thanking the dark-eyed girl, Ranai if memory served, she excused her and waited until the door clicked behind her to break the wax open with a thumbnail. Details for their mission. A mission! A real one!

Her enthusiasm made for a bit of a haphazard and lumpy package when she was finished packing, stray wisps of curling red hair floating free of their previous confines, but she could not be bothered with the time to correct either to neatness. For a brief moment, Ishara warred with herself over whether or not to add the freshly acquired green fringed shawl to the bag. On one hand, she knew full well that older sisters sniggered behind hands about the new raised Aes Sedai being so tied to them, yet on the other, with her young face her status may come into question and so the shawl would serve as proof… She tapped her lips in thought, scrunching up her nose as she did so.

“Oh Light blind them and their bloody laughs.”

She swung the shawl back around her shoulders and straightened it precisely. At last satisfied, she rushed down to the training yards to meet up Elaira and look for Taivin Rashai, her friend’s comment assigning him as hers earned the blond woman a feigned scowl. Her next sentence, however, replaced the grimace with fiendish delight.

"I've not considered doing my recruiting here, I must confess. What do you suggest?"

Ishara linked her arm with Elaira’s and opened her mouth to begin a thorough tour of the Warders and Younglings in the yard when another, beloved, familiar, voice stopped her short.

"And what, might I ask, are you two up to?! Is it anything that requires the services of an additional partner in crime?!"

Ishara bit back a squeal of delight at her brother’s presence, not very dignified of Aes Sedai to be acting the child then was it? She instead restrained herself to only throwing her arms around his neck, squeezing tight, and rapid-firing a handful of kisses on his cheek.

“Gareth! You irascible sneak! You didn’t tell me you would be here! I thought you were attending the ball back home in Caemlyn?” She waved her hand, dismissing the question. “Nevermind! I am so glad to see you! I have orders to travel to Saldaea. Elaira has recently made some connections there, and so will be accompanying me. It’s also been...suggested... that I find Rashai to be a guide and extra sword. It would be beyond delightful if you could come along too?” Her eyes sparkled up at him for a brief moment with hope, but reality intruded only too soon and she sighed. “No, I suppose with your own training in Caralain and diplomatic duties to see to in Andor there’s no time for you to go gallivanting to the Borderlands with us.”

Ishara put on her best grin to try and ease the disappointment. “Either way, you could help us just now! Where might your old training fellow be hiding?”

Pale green eyes scanned across the yard, searching for the dark curls she remembered belonging to the young Saldean man. In truth, though she wouldn’t admit it to Gareth or even Elaira yet, and never to Zamira Dagaron, Light blind her and her insinuations! Taivin was handsome, even if his Saldean blood set him a tad on the short side for her liking.

Lost in her own train of thought as she searched, Ishara nearly missed the completely doe-eyed looks passing between Gareth and Elaira. Oh, what has happened here, I wonder?!

“Ahem!” She cleared her throat with a bit more volume than was necessary. “Well then, I’ll go look for him over here, shall I?”

And she skipped away a few yards to give them some modicum of privacy for whatever it was. Luck favored her, for as she did so, she caught sight of her query not far off with his beauty of a war steed. Ishara glided over to them with a grin.

“Master Rashai! You are exactly the gentlemen we are looking for! I have a proposition for you, if you’d like I can fill you in on the details while my brother has a bit of a chat with Elaira Sedai.” Her eyes locked on his intent with meaning. “Alone.”

[Taivin Rashai]

Taivin lightly nudged Kiserai with his left boot. The stallion obligingly turned, although he did toss his head, making his frustration with their slow pace clear. His rider chuckled and patted the stallion's neck. "I know, I know. We'll go for a proper ride later, I promise. Well, after I take care of my business in town."

Kiserai huffed out a breath, but subsided. Taivin returned his attention to his charges, a small line of horses slowly, but surely making their way to his position. He studied their progress, noting those that seemed to be struggling.

It was a few months now, since he had taken on the task of riding lessons at the Tower. Since he had, technically, ceased to be a trainee, it had been a convenient way to be useful, while ensuring he still had a place in the barracks.

The group currently under his watch was one of his more advanced. Its members either had prior experience astride a horse or had grown in skill enough to be included on this little outing outside the city's walls.

Of course, a few members of the Tower Guard accompanied the group, most of whom were Accepted, but they remained distant, paying more attention to the surrounding environment than the fledgling riders.

The first in the line reached Taivin's spot, managing to draw to a relatively smooth halt a few feet from Kiserai. The Accepted beamed brightly at Taivin, who merely returned a genteel nod. As the rest of the line staggered to a halt, Kiserai trotted down the line without being asked.

As Taivin paused here and there to correct a student's posture or to offer the occasional word of encouragement, he smiled inwardly at his stallion's behavior, which seemed to be mirroring his own, only with his fellow horses.

Once he'd traversed the line twice and resumed his place at the front, he indicated the lead rider should resume, directing her to head back into the city.
__________________________________________

Roughly an hour later, Taivin and his students were in the stable yard. He kept one eye on the girls as they cared for their mounts, but as several other stablehands were also present, he mostly focused on his own equine companion.

He had removed the stallion's tack, which meant the stablehands were keeping a respectful distance away from the pair. Kiserai was watching the activity in the yard, content enough for the moment to allow his rider to rest against his flank.

At least until something else captured his attention. Or rather, someone. Tai heard her call to him, but was a little surprised to see that it was Ishara. He knew her, of course, but primarily as a casual acquaintance, as the sister of his best friend.

In fact, Tai couldn't remember ever actually talking to her, other than in passing. Yet here she was, specifically looking for him. With a proposition, no less. Later on, he would recall this moment with more than a little embarrassment.

Because as soon as her words registered, Taivin's mind went completely blank. Luckily for him, there was someone else present who did not panic. Kiserai nudged Tai firmly, jarring his rider back to himself.

Taivin cleared his throat, hoping that Ishara hadn't noticed his momentary panic, especially with a large stallion between them. He stepped around Kiserai, who jutted his head over his rider's shoulder, evidently interested in the new arrival.

Tai, for his part, noted the green fringed shawl that Ishara held tightly around her shoulders, as if she feared it would disappear, with a small smile. Gareth had often spoken of how determined his sister was on gaining the shawl and the two had shared a drink, in private, to celebrate when she had been raised.

"Ishara Sedai. It's nice to see you again. Not that it's never not…" Taivin was cut off, as Kiserai, who was very intrigued by the young woman's presence, jostled him. Tai laid a hand on his partner's nose, gently restraining the animal.

"My apologies, he's not normally this...enthusiastic...about other people." Which was a curious thought in and of itself, but one that Tai would need to ponder at another time.

"What can I do for you while Gareth is...occupied?"

[Ishara Trakand]

Ishara smiled, the picture of congeniality, as Taivin put himself between the horse and herself. Her spirit lifted hearing the honorary added to her name and her smile deepened a fraction.

She covered a small laugh at the horse’s antics and took a step closer, “May I?” she offered a hand to the outstretched nose. The stallion whickered pleasantly and pressed the black velvet of his snout into her hand. Ishara laughed with delight, giving the long face a few strokes as his owner continued.

What can I do for you while Gareth is...occupied?”

“Yes,” her voice held the softness of childhood secrets, her eyes turned, half-seeing, toward Gareth and Elaira. “It’s been a lifetime in coming, but it seems my brother has finally made a choice.” She turned her attention fully back to Taivin, dropping her hand from the steed’s forehead.

“He is magnificent, surely the pride of your house! But that is not what I came to speak to you about. I have recently been tasked with reinforcing several military holds along the Blight Border. Elaira Sedai and I will travel by river up to Shienar with supplies. We will continue from there along the border, refreshing supplies and gathering reports from my fellow Green sisters, ending eventually in Saldaea. It was suggested that I enlist your aid, as a guide.”

Ishara schooled herself to a pleasant, Aes Sedai appropriate, calmness. In her head, there was an ongoing rant painting the Captain-General in a less than pleasant or appropriate light. Still, here was her chance to be something other than Andor’s Daughter Heir. To be free of the expectations of her future role or her “potential” as a channeler, as a Queen, everything. For the time this journey took, at least, she would simply be Ishara Sedai of the Green Ajah, and that was worth any barbs Zamira Dagaron had to throw at her.

"What do you think? I regret my brother won't be able to join us as well, but duty calls him elsewhere. It will be a journey of months rather than the days I'm afraid many of us have grown so accustomed to with the reliability of Gateways, but it is important, both to Tar Valon and to all those aiding the fight against the Shadow along the Blight. I imagine there will be many nights we will sleep under stars rather than under roofs and more time spent in a saddle than on our own feet," she smiled, pointing her chin at the war horse in demonstration, "but I think that is something you're rather accustomed to. He really is lovely, what was his name again?"

[Elaira Taravin]

Elaira linked arms with Ishara, ready to track down their missing guide. Elaira was strangely eager to begin this new adventure, and surprisingly eager to return to Saldaea. The Borderlands were cold and dangerous, but she'd felt like she had accomplished something, there. It would be nice to return and have something of use for her friend. They hadn't taken a handful of steps before a voice behind them sent a familiar chill up Elaira's spine and sent Ishara spinning and nearly jumping at the speaker. Elaira turned more slowly, feeling her cheeks flush entirely against her will. Light, Elaira. Smooth and calm. You are Aes Sedai, remember?!

"And what, might I ask, are you two up to?! Is it anything that requires the services of an additional partner in crime?!"

Gareth Trakand stood there, Ishara stepping back from her brother in obvious delight. It hadn't been that long since Elaira had seen the First Prince, but still it had felt like an eternity. Memories of a kiss threatened to burn her cheeks entirely off, so she pushed them out of her head with a desperate will. Light, it never used to be this difficult to just be around him without mooning over him. Her infatuation couldn't be more obvious, and that annoyed her beyond speaking. Be dignified, Elaira!

“Gareth! You irascible sneak! You didn’t tell me you would be here! I thought you were attending the ball back home in Caemlyn? Nevermind! I am so glad to see you!"

Elaira nodded her agreement, trying to manage a politely demure smile. Was it working? She couldn't tell.

"I have orders to travel to Saldaea. Elaira has recently made some connections there, and so will be accompanying me. It’s also been...suggested... that I find Rashai to be a guide and extra sword. It would be beyond delightful if you could come along too?" No, I suppose with your own training in Caralain and diplomatic duties to see to in Andor there’s no time for you to go gallivanting to the Borderlands with us.”

Elaira's heart soared and fell at the suggestion, but it made sense. Gareth was as bound to the Black Tower as she was to the White, and with far less freedom to go with it, given his position as Dedicated. He couldn't simply drop everything and join them on a months' long journey, no matter how much she might wish it.

“Either way, you could help us just now! Where might your old training fellow be hiding?"

Ishara's eyes fell on Elaira as she looked searched for Taivin, and Elaira knew that Ishara had seen through her cunning attempts to seem gracefully serene. Light...

"Ahem! Well then, I’ll go look for him over here, shall I?”

And with that, Ishara was gone. Elaira watched her go and wasn't certain if she was relieved to have the moment with Gareth or nervous about finding a moment alone with Gareth so unexpectedly. And it wasn't really alone either, they were in the middle of the training yard! Elaira cleared her throat and smoothed skirts that needed no smoothing, looking up at Gareth with cheeks still tinged with pink.

"Gareth Trakand, it's been too long."

Light, what did people talk about? She was acting like a child. It wasn't hard to speak to Gareth. He was friendly and kind and thoughtful and brave and.... Elaira shook herself out of the thought, literally, giving her head a fierce shake before turning her gaze back up at the First Prince.

"I've missed you."

It was a simple statement instead of anything eloquent, but then Elaira smiled. It was warm and bright thing that all but lit the yard. She had missed him, fiercely.

[Gareth Trakand]

A smile spread on Gareth's face as Ishara tossed her arms around his neck. He embraced her back, enduring the embarrassing kisses which were covering his cheek. The youthful 1st Prince missed her far too much while training at the Black Tower to care who witnessed his younger sister showering him with such affection. After all, their time together would be bitterly too short before Gareth would be required to return. He wanted to share with her his adventures in Carhien, the nightmares he'd had, and about his desires to join the Earth Legion. But before he could get the chance, Ishara snatched the opportunity away by filling him in first. The mention of the Pendar Ball had his lips parted as he intended to remind Ishara of how the event wouldn't take place for another two weeks, but she moved on from the subject with quick speed. Another smile graced his face at his sister mentioning that she missed him. A feeling that was quite mutual.

“I have orders to travel to Saldaea. Elaira has recently made some connections there, and so will be accompanying me. It’s also been...suggested... that I find Rashai to be a guide and extra sword. It would be beyond delightful if you could come along too?”

“You're going to Saldaea?!”

Several emotions overcame him at once at the thought of the three people he cared about the most in the world going off to the Borderlands without him. Danger, adventure, intrigue, and more no doubt awaited them. It would be a lie to say he wasn't a touch bit jealous.

“No, I suppose with your own training in Caralain and diplomatic duties to see to in Andor there’s no time for you to go gallivanting to the Borderlands with us.”

He possessed a desperate wish to join them, but, as Ishara pointed out, he had other obligations that kept him tied in Andor. He felt conflicted, how could he confess his nightmares to her now?! He had no desire to bog her down with worry right as she headed off into a dangerous land! She would need to remain sharp and focused. Gareth feared that speculations that his dreams had been invaded might cause the opposite. His eyes darted about the yard as she mentioned searching for Taivin. Gareth was now desperate to speak with Taivin, to ensure that he protected his sister and... ‘By the light... Elaira.’

Gareth's gaze fell once more upon his heart's desire. Her red-ish gold waves cascaded around her shoulders while flecks of sunlight highlighted her striking features. And though it was the sun that currently ruled the sky, he swore Elaira possessed the dust of the stars in her eyes. That stunning glimmer brought him back to the night of the Bel Tine Ball. To swirling figures moving across a marble floor while she was within his arms. They were dancing, nay flying, and he swore she'd taken him into the sky that night. He realized now how she'd been all that existed within the moment they kissed. The rest of the world had faded away, leaving only them. She was the one all along; she always had been! But why couldn't he have figured that out sooner and not now when she'd be going so far away!

“Ahem! Well then, I’ll go look for him over here, shall I?”

“What?!”

Like a fool, Gareth failed to realize that Ishara was right there as his feelings for Elaira had him entranced. He scratched embarrassingly at the back of his head, stumbling to make even one sensible sentence form only to fail miserably. Off she trotted towards the stables, leaving him alone with Elaira. He stared at her as if she were a foreign object he didn't understand. Awkward silence stood between them as he wrestled with how to express himself. ‘Light burn me, why's it so hard to speak with her?!’

“Gareth Trakand, it's been too long.” Hearing Elaira speak reminded him of how fiercely he'd felt adrift at sea without hearing her melodious voice.

“It has indeed.” ‘Tell her how you feel, you flaming wool-head!’

“I've missed you.”

“I... I've missed you as well.” ‘Idiot.’

Without any eloquent speech springing to mind, Gareth started to turn away from her, intent on finding Ishara and letting his chance slip away. Then a sudden fire inside of him flamed with the heat of a thousand suns. Within the moment of a single breath, Gareth closed the gap between them. He grasped the back of Elaira's head and pulled her into a sensually deep, passionate kiss. Once again, the world faded away as his previous restraint disappeared. Euphoria was now what engulfed him whole. And when their lips finally parted, his courage re-awoken and Gareth finally confessed what he felt in his heart.

“I love you. By the light, how I love you, Elaira!” He lifted her off the ground, took her into his arms, and spun her around. His face beamed brighter than it ever had before in his life as he pressed his forehead to hers, nuzzling her nose with his. “Come back to me safe, my Ellisande. Promise me that you shall.”

(Ellisande—(n.) the Rose of the Sun or Sunrose)