Hey guys, here's that extra chapter I promised. It's shorter than usual, but what're you gonna do? And please do review, it eases my nerves knowing ya'll approve.

Chapter Six

At dawn, three days after his revelation under Dragonmount, Rif stood in the White Tower Traveling grounds, summoned by Lord Galad, accompanied by the half-legion of Whitecloaks. Galad stood like a statue; calm, cool, and collected. Rif felt like he would be sick at any moment and was grateful to the trick to ignore temperature. At least he knew his sweating was from nerves and not heat.

Galad offered his hand to the young Dedicated with a soft smile. After a moment's hesitation, Rif awkwardly smiled back and and shook it.

"Thank you, Rif, for telling me of my gift," Galad said. Two years ago, a revelation like this would have caused an uproar with anyone, especially a Whitecloak, and even after so much change, Rif had not expected a thank you.

"It was the right thing to do," Rif said honestly. Galad's smile seemed to widen ever so slightly at his answer.

"What do I do to learn about this skill?" the Commander asked. Rif placed a hand to his chin, considering his answer carefully. Galad had visited the Black Tower before and was at least acquainted with Logain and the Telamons. Rif noticed that the entirety of the Whitecloaks were ready to depart.

"I can open a gateway to the Black Tower. Have your men move through quickly, but cautiously; a lot of Asha'man haven't let go of old grievances. Ask for Logain and tell him what has happened here. Given your position, he'll probably assign an Asha'man to the Children of the Light. Officially, he'll probably act as an emissary, but he'll teach you what you need to know to handle yourself." Rif held his breath for Galad's response. The Lord Captain Commander nodded in approval.

Rif seized the Source and wove a gateway to a field outside the Black Tower's main gate, wide enough for two men to walk side-by-side. Galad motioned to his men, who began filing through with only occasional looks of worry or contempt. As the last of the men filed through, Galad followed silently. He turned and saluted to Rif as the gateway closed.

Rif let out a sigh of relief. The summons had originally made him nervous. Galad may have wanted to punish him for "lying" or even kill him. But then again, that wasn't Galad's way. He always did what was right. Rif felt a glow of happiness that the Children of the Light finally had a leader with a strong moral compass, for once.

Rif looked to the horizon, the sun a faint shine above the cityscape. It was barely morning and he felt exhausted. Rif started to turn toward the wing that held the Dedicated quarters before an idea struck him. Bode usually got up around this time. He turned instead for the Accepted wing.

Bode finished straightening her room, one of the few physical chores required of an Accepted, and took a look at herself in her room's faded mirror. She looked … average. She had classes involving weaves today, the first since she had realized she was in love with Rif, and was determined to sink herself into them. To forget her troubles for a few hours.

Bode left her room … and stopped in surprise. He was right there, as if summoned by her determination. Men were not banned from the Accepted's quarters, but it was still rare to see one here. Apparently Rif was unaware or simply didn't give it any mind. With that sweet smile and those eyes like the sky, he looked perfect. "Good morning," he greeted.

Bode flashed what she oped was a flirty grin. "Good morning, yourself," she replied. Rif scratched the back of his head, as if nervous. "You were right," he said.

Bode shrugged. "I usually am. You'll have to be more specific." Rif chuckled at her jest.

"Galad requested I come to the Traveling grounds today. He wants to learn to channel. He wasn't mad, either. Just … accepting." Rif smiled a little wider. "And a touch grateful," he added.

Bode smiled more genuinely this time and lifte a pointing finger to his face. "Told you so," she sing-songed, and pressed his nose softly. Rif's face reddened at her proximity, but his smile remained.

"Would you care to join me for a stroll in the city?" he asked. "Just to talk?"

Bode lifted an eyebrow at the request, and reluctantly shook her head. "Accepted are not allowed to leave the Tower grounds unescorted," she explained. Her grin returned. "Besides, I haven't eaten, yet." As if in response to her words, Rif's stomach rumbled. "And apparently, neither have you," she said. Rif shrugged with embarrassment.

Bode giggled and took his arm, leading them to the dining halls.

Karl Zavier, Dedicated of the Black Tower and heir-apparent of the noble Zavier family, tried with little success to rein in his rising temper. That little upstart Arason had made him look like a fool, like a common fool! The day he had seen the little pest act so mushy with that Two Rivers chit, he had come straight to the Amyrlin to recount the sight. She had refused to see him, so the message had been given to her Keeper, who had yet to pass it on.

Zavier had returned every morning since. He was a noble of Cairhien; he would not be ignored! The Keeper, Tesan he thought, finally looked up at him with that icy White Ajah gaze. She stood, a sheaf of papers in one hand, and entered the Amyrlin's office without a word to him. A good ten minutes later, she opened the door. "The Amyrlin Seat will speak with you," she said, tone as cold as her gaze.

Zavier bit back a scathing retort and strode past her. They made him wait for days, then ushered him in like some sort of servant?! Zavier tried again to rein in his ire, with more success than before. He was a noble of Cairhien and had been raised to play the Game of Houses in his sleep since birth. He refused to let them get to him.

The Amyrlin Seat, Pevara Sedai, was finishing an important-looking letter as he entered. She ignored him as she finished the document with a signature, then sealed it and handed it to her Keeper with murmured instructions. Only then did she address him; another act of Das Dae'mar.

"I have been … informed that you have a complaint against one of your own," Pevara said, her cold tone somehow tinged with disapproval. Zavier drew breath to explain, but the Amyrlin held a hand up for silence; he had no choice but to comply. "Tell me only the facts of what you saw. Do not try to exaggerate. I will know if you do." She fixed him with one of those icy, steely glares he had only ever seen from her, and he believed without a doubt that she would know.

Zavier explained what he had seen: Arason had dueled the Lord Captain Commander Galadedrid, then tested him. He had been escorted back to the Tower by and Accepted, Bodewhin Cauthon, who had consoled him. Both had held each other quite warmly, amorously even. He suppressed a wicked grin as he finished, expecting Pevara Sedai to dole out a famous Aes Sedai punishment right then and there.

Pevara Sedai gave Zavier a level look, totally unaltered by the report. "A fascinating narrative," she said, voice heavy with sarcasm, "and not something for the Amyrlin Seat. If you wish to report on an Accepted, you should have gone to the Mistress of Novices. And as for the Dedicated, I suppose it would be her business as well, as long as you're here. Now," she stood from her seat, "if you don't mind, I have other business to attend to."

Pevara Sedai left the room with graceful elegance, leaving Zavier gaping.

Despite the lovely morning of breakfast with Rif, Bode's day had quickly gone sour. Her classes were evermore demanding, she had had no time to watch Rif spar (a pastime she had found herself enjoying), and she had been called to the chambers of Tiana Noselle, the Mistress of Novices.

Apparently, word had gotten around about the "moment" between her and Rif, and Tiana had been rather displeased by the situation. Accepted were supposed to remain aloof from men and focus on their studies, especially as they would outlive any friends they made that were not Aes Sedai.

Bode had given the argument that a friendship with Rif (which was all she would admit) was then ideal, as he would more than likely live as long as she. This had given Tiana pause, but she had still punished Bode for bending Tower custom with the task of scrubbing pots in the kitchens, a chore that lasted well past dark. And to make matters worse, she had overheard that Rif had been ordered to demolish the remains of Elaida's unfinished palace alone, a punishment that would cover a number of days.

In other words, Bode was worn out, her hands were blistered and aching, and she was quite frankly at the edge of her practiced cool facade.

Bode stumbled up to her room and, for the second time that day, was surprised by the appearance of Rif at her door; not only his presence, but the very state of him. Rif's coat, usually immaculate, was rumpled and covered with dust. His face was filthy, with tracks cut in the dust from sweat. His eyes were dull from exhaustion. And yet, through all that he still smiled for her.

Bode rubbed a strand of her hair between her thumb and forefinger. She probably looked little better than him. With that stray thought, the strain finally reached its peak, the very limit of what she could handle. Bode almost started weeping and it must have shown on her face. Rif rushed to her and enveloped her in a strong embrace, one she gladly returned. He rubbed her hair and whispered comforts to her, just like a small part of her remembered seeing lovers do in Emond's Field.

After a few moments, Bode calmed down, then scolded herself. She was an Accepted of the White Tower, not some lovesick village girl to be rescued! She pulled back, meaning to chastise Rif for thinking he had to comfort her, but one look into those beautiful, exhausted eyes made her bite her tongue.

Rif's expression saddened as she looked at him. "I'm sorry, Bode," was all he said. Bode paled, thinking he had somehow read her thoughts. "I wanted to give you a good day, but all I did was ruin it."

Bode took a moment to consider his words. "How?" she asked. Rif's expression twisted, as if he were in pain. "People saw us after I tested Galad. They took it as romance and acted accordingly. I put you in that position, and in this one," he said holding her red, raw hands in his own, "and I apologize." He let go and bowed his head. "Please forgive me," he whispered.

Bode felt a surge of protectiveness rise in her, mixed with a little anger. She wouldn't let him take all the blame on himself. "Rif, I'm the one who did that to you," she said, tapping int endurance she didn't realize she had. "It's just as much my fault as yours."

Rif looked back up in disbelief and smiled gratefully. He placed a hand on her cheek and his eyes … smoldered. He pulled her forward, ever so gently … and kissed her! Bode was shocked for a moment, then returned his efforts. For a few moments, they stood in bliss. Then Rif tensed and pulled back, his face ashen with fear.

"Oh Light! Bode, I'm sorry, I-I-I-I don't know why I did that, I-" Bode cut him off with another kiss, just as calming as the last. She pulled back and giggled at Rif's stunned expression. "Y-you're not … mad?" he asked hesitantly.

Bode scoffed at the notion. "I've wanted you to do that for a while now," she answered honestly. "Or better yet, to have done it to you." Bode realized that they were holding each other, tightly, right in the middle of the Accepted wing.

Bode broke away and kissed Rif on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow," she whispered in his ear. As she entered her room, Bode looked back. "Don't forget to take a shower." he quickly closed the door and slumped against it. Rif cared for her, too! Sfe would have shrieked for joy, if she weren't so tired.

Rif ran on silent feet through the White Tower and bolted himself in his quarters. Bode cared for him, too! He wove a quick silencing ward and shouted for joy at the top of his lungs, then let the ward dissipate. Then he smelled something, something rank. He sniffed again and realized it was himself.

Maybe a bath wasn't a bad idea.

Elle finley sat on her bed, tears leaking from her eyes. She combed her fingers through her light hair, odd for a Two Rivers girl, almost without thinking. She had been replaced! Pain lanced through her heart at the thought.

Elle was from the Two Rivers, from one of the outlying farms, and had been among the fourteen recruited by Verin Sedai and Allana Sedai. During the Tower Schism, she and Bode had been in the same novice family together and had grown into fast friends. Then they had been raised to Accepted together after the Tower was Mended, and had studied together, their friendship stronger than ever.

Then he came … Arason. They had tried linking and then, like a flash, were spending all their time together. Bode rarely spent time with Elle anymore. It was like she didn't even exist. That black-coated, sword-swinging woolhead had taken her spot in Bode's heart.

When they had been set chores as punishment, ones designed to separate them, Elle had grown hopeful again. Bode would be exhausted and lonely; she would need a shoulder to cry on.

But Elle had come too late. Arason was already there, holding her. They had talked and he had … kissed her! The she kissed him! Elle felt anger flood her veins, burning away the sorrow. It wasn't fair! Bode was her friend first!

Elle tried the novice exercises, trying to calm down. Tower custom—this had to be reported. Elle tucked herself into bed, pulling the covers tight. She would report to Tiana in the morning.