I wanted to thank Watcher Tale Neith, Mystic Weaver, and Squilo Sedai for
reviewing that last chapter. I really still don't know how I feel about
it. I was trying to use the contrast between all of the cozy scenes around
the city to show Lan's state of mind. But I'm not sure that it worked.
Squilo Sedai I promise there will be more action in the chapters coming
soon.
Also, I want to apologize for taking so long to update. I tend to loose interest in the middle of stories. I could really use a Beta to keep me focused, and to help proof read, I hate re-reading my stuff. If anyone is interested, you know where to find me.
Thanks again. I will try to be better. .............................................................................................................
Leah lay on the top of the comforter. She was on her stomach, her knees bent at a right angle, legs crossed at the ankle, her toes reached for the ceiling. She propped herself up on her elbows. Her dark auburn hair fell loose down her back. As Lan had given her the day off, she wore only her undergarments, her gowns momentarily forgotten in the bureau on the far wall. Her eyes lazily wandered across the page of a faded manuscript borrowed from the innkeeper.
Initially Leah had been thrilled by her change of fortune, but as time wore on, the monotony set in. Every day was the same as the one before. Lan would arrive at her door precisely one hour after then sun had risen. She would stand in the center of the room with him before her, staring. He would then circle her, straightening and adjusting. This small act took a tremendous amount of time. All the while she would stand, fists balled at her sides, wishing that she were a real Aes Sedai . She would teach him that men were merely supposed to admire a woman, only giving wardrobe advice when asked, and always submitting to the woman's keener fashion sense.
When he was completely satisfied that her appearance was appropriate, they would sit down to breakfast which was eaten in silence (mostly by Leah). Lan would again position himself across from her, a slice of buttered bread in hand and watch. Occasionally he would take a distracted bite, absently chewing on the crust.
After their morning meal, he would set in to question her. People, places, events; the words would barely leave her lips before he had begun on the next. There was always another question to answer, always some reason why her response was too slow or incomplete.
Sometimes they would venture out into the city in the afternoon, but somehow Lan managed to sap all of the fun out of these outings as well. Before they would leave, he would sit her down to prepare her, as if each step out of the inn could lead to their downfall. He would only submit to their excursion once he was absolutely certain that she knew where they were to go and by which paths, as well as what words were to be spoken.
Her dream outing had been to see the seamstress. She had been raised by her father and her four older brothers. Even-so she had not escaped the heartache of hand-me-down clothing. Fabric from outgrown shirts and worn pants were trimmed and sewn into dresses. She was good with a needle and thread, and she had never felt pitiful. Never. That was until she had come to the city.
She would watch as fine ladies would parade down the streets. They would exit their carriages in a flash of color as their long silk skirts would swirl in the breeze. Their satin slippers barely seemed to touch the ground beneath their feet. She would watch in the shadows. Her hands would stray across the shabby material of her own garments, wishing that she could be so finely adorned. It was a wish that she would never have spoken aloud. There were far more important things to spend her coins on. But still, in the shadows she wished.
As a Warder, his Aes Sedai's wishes were final, in public. So Lan had made sure that Leah was certain of his wishes before their departure. She was informed that fabrics of blue, green and yellow (quite a bit of yellow to Leah's dismay) would make up the majority of her wardrobe. Red was strictly forbidden as he feared that material may bring out the red in her hair. What did men know about clothing anyway? She had at least managed to sneak in a lovely violet silk.
He had an opinion on everything, and his opinion was final, for the most part. Living with five men had taught her one important lesson: always let the man believe that he is right. Her hair was a perfect example. Flowing loose down her back, it had stirred quite an argument. Lan had insisted that if it was held in a braid at all times, the façade would be more easily maintained. She would be less likely to be caught out of character as it were. So she had agreed quickly, hardly waiting for the door to latch behind him before letting her hands fly to free her tresses.
There was something meaningful in that act of rebellion. It was a reminder of who she was, not Nynaeve, but Leah. He no longer called her by name. In public, she was Myriam, just as Lan was Andra. That was a part of the game, wanting to be noticed while looking like they were trying to remain hidden. In private, she was Nynaeve. Lan never let her forget who she was supposed to be.
A knock at the door startled her into consciousness. She rolled over quickly, slamming her feet onto the floor. Her hands were buried in her hair at once, weaving back and forth without thought. Her eyes darted to the dresser. If she took the time to dress Lan would be angered, and she would incur a lecture on leaving him waiting. If she answered the door in her dressing gown, a different lecture was sure to follow. This one would address her wastefulness of time, time that could be spent reading through the notes that he had compiled for her.
It is my day off! She thought angrily, settling on the dressing gown. Another thing that living with five men had taught her was an abundance of curses, and she mumbled a rather vehement Wagoner's oath under her breath.
She threw open the door with more force than was necessary. It was her day off after all. Her left hand rested on her hip, and her eyes blazed. The face that met her gaze was not the one that she expected. The innkeepers round face was alight with a smile, although it quickly faded as he met her gaze.
"I am sorry Mistress Myriam. I did not mean to interrupt, I..." Leah's upraised hand halted him mid-sentence. Her mood was instantly uplifted.
"You interrupted nothing my good man. Would you care to come in?" She asked opening the door wider, as it had rebounded to leave an opening of little more than a gap. If possible, his face turned a brighter shade of red as he took in her dressing robe. It was her turn to blush. "One moment if you please." The innkeeper nodded violently as she quickly shut the door before her.
After quickly dressing, she returned to her visitor. He stood patiently outside the door, hands clasped behind his back, carefully studying the floorboards beneath his feet. "I am terribly sorry my lady." He quickly began again. And once again he was halted by her raised hand.
"Once again there is nothing to apologize for." She replied, although the slightest hint of red still touched her ears.
"Master Andra had told me to inform him the moment the preparations were finalized. I had checked his room before coming to you. I thought that you would like to know."
"Preparations Master Jordan?" she asked rather quizzically. That infuriating man never told her anything, she thought angrily.
"For the morning my lady. The carriage will arrive shortly after dawn. Master Andra said that they would be expecting you at the palace by midmorning." His eyes grew big at the mention of the palace, and a smile spread slowly across his face. One of his guests, a real lady, would be entertained at the palace of the good Queen Morgase. He still thought of it that way. It was easier than believing stories of another false dragon, or even more frightening, the real Dragon Reborn.
"Very good sir." Leah said with a smile, nodding in dismissal. Master Jordan gave her a bow before turning to leave. He hardly noticed the door closing on his heels.
The palace! She was going to the palace. Leah slumped against the newly shut door. Her hands rose to her chest to slow her racing heart. She was too excited to be angry. She could see it all now. She would wear her new emerald gown, the one that was slashed with the palest of green silk, and embroidered with tiny flowers across the neck and down the sleeves. The dress was cut lower than she liked, showing quite a bit of pale flesh. But the fact was that all of the dresses were cut like that. Yet another of Lan's suggestions. As if an Aes Sedai would wear a garment of that cut.
She rushed quickly to the dresser to check on the condition of her gown. Every inch was perfectly pressed, just as she had left it. Her hands moved over the hems and seams, making sure that there were no loose threads to be trimmed. After she completed this task she was too excited to return to her reading.
She undid the buttons of her plane, but well cut grey dress, and quickly traded it for the green one. She redid her braid, this time much tighter, making sure every strand was in place. She sat down before the mirror on the dressing table. She rummaged through the small oak box that held her meager jewelry collection. Settling on an emerald pendant, she hooked the clasp of the fragile gold chain behind her neck. She stood slowly, preening before the mirror, memorizing every detail. She was going to the palace. Everything had to be perfect. She was so caught up in her preparations she nearly missed the knock at the door.
Forcing herself to return to the present, she grudgingly answered the door. This time it was Lan who stood before her. His dark hair pulled back with the braided leather cord he always wore above his temples was wet, and it came to Leah's attention that the threatening storm must have broken.
Lan openly stared for a moment. His eyes started at her pale green slippers peaking out from under the hem of her gown, up the layers of silk, to the thick braid hanging over her shoulder. "I see that you have heard of tomorrow's excursion."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Leah asked a bit breathlessly. "I will hardly be prepared as it is. There is so much that I need to do. I need to bathe, and have my dress pressed, and about a million other things." It all came out in a rush.
Lan interrupted her rambling. "The carriage leaves first thing in the morning. You will be ready." Leah nodded to the last, although it was a statement, no a question. "You will wear the yellow gown with.."
"I had intended to wear what I have on." Leah said, raising her voice. Her hands once again balled into fists at her sides.
"You will wear the yellow gown with the red flowers. You will not speak to anyone." Leah opened her mouth to argue, but Lan merely continued on. "I will inform the guards that Nynaeve Sedai of the Yellow Ajah wishes to see the Dragon Reborn. I will then..." Lan continued on that way for quite a while longer. Leah pressed her lips together until they were white from lack of blood, and her nails dug into her palms as her anger rose.
Early the next morning the streets of Caemlyn were coming alive. A matching pair of chestnut mares pawed at the earth as they patiently waited to be harnessed to the carriage. Leah walked slowly down the stairs, very slowly. Lan gave her an annoyed look out of the corner of his eye. She gathered up her skirts carefully before climbing into the open door of the carriage (her yellow skirts), and sat stiffly beside the window on the far wall. Lan was seated across from her. The limited space ensured that their knees touched every time a rock or rut caused a jolt. She raised her chin defiantly and watched the city pass before her. I will not let this man ruin this day for me! She thought furiously. I am going to the palace!
Leah gripped her skirts until her knuckles were white from the effort, not only by her anger now. Winter had come crashing down on Camelyn like an avalanche and the thick curtains were not enough to keep the chill from the small cabin. Leah's breath misted before her lips. Her hood was thrown back as if to mock the cold. She was Aes Sedai and the temperature meant nothing to her. She ground her teeth to prevent them from chattering.
The palace gates loomed up before the carriage, steel and stone wrought by expert craftsmen to turn the swords of armies. Leah had seen it all before, but it was different now. It had always seemed so formidable and impenetrable. Now, in her silk gown, with the golden serpent wrapped snuggly around her right index finger, the palace seemed inviting.
The rhythmic clacking of the horses' hooves on the paving stones halted, and Leah could hear muffled voices from the front of the carriage.
"State your name and purpose of visit." The first voice called out. The driver, who had merely been told to head for the palace managed to stammer something to that effect, and quick footsteps soon brought a guard to the window closest to Leah.
The guardsmen appeared to be no more than fifteen although he was most likely older. He looked awkward in his uniform and he tugged at his sword as if unsure of its purpose. He stared at her with his large blue eyes, and when the wind ruffled his sand colored hair, Leah was reminded of her youngest brother Jamis. This feeling was so strong that she bit the inside of her lower lip to force back the threatening smile. I will not let him ruin this!
"Tell the Lord Dragon that Nynaeve al'Meara is here to speak with him." There was no mention of Ajah, no honorific behind the name, but a slight wave of her right hand caused the guard to bow deeply before he quickly signaled the others to let the though. Lan's eyebrow arched, but he made no move to challenge her. Moments later the carriage once again lurched back to life, carrying Leah through the gates, into the palace.
Lan shifted unconsciously as the carriage lurched forward. His face was all stony planes, revealing nothing. All of the pieces had been set on the board. He had made the first move, now all he could do was wait.
Also, I want to apologize for taking so long to update. I tend to loose interest in the middle of stories. I could really use a Beta to keep me focused, and to help proof read, I hate re-reading my stuff. If anyone is interested, you know where to find me.
Thanks again. I will try to be better. .............................................................................................................
Leah lay on the top of the comforter. She was on her stomach, her knees bent at a right angle, legs crossed at the ankle, her toes reached for the ceiling. She propped herself up on her elbows. Her dark auburn hair fell loose down her back. As Lan had given her the day off, she wore only her undergarments, her gowns momentarily forgotten in the bureau on the far wall. Her eyes lazily wandered across the page of a faded manuscript borrowed from the innkeeper.
Initially Leah had been thrilled by her change of fortune, but as time wore on, the monotony set in. Every day was the same as the one before. Lan would arrive at her door precisely one hour after then sun had risen. She would stand in the center of the room with him before her, staring. He would then circle her, straightening and adjusting. This small act took a tremendous amount of time. All the while she would stand, fists balled at her sides, wishing that she were a real Aes Sedai . She would teach him that men were merely supposed to admire a woman, only giving wardrobe advice when asked, and always submitting to the woman's keener fashion sense.
When he was completely satisfied that her appearance was appropriate, they would sit down to breakfast which was eaten in silence (mostly by Leah). Lan would again position himself across from her, a slice of buttered bread in hand and watch. Occasionally he would take a distracted bite, absently chewing on the crust.
After their morning meal, he would set in to question her. People, places, events; the words would barely leave her lips before he had begun on the next. There was always another question to answer, always some reason why her response was too slow or incomplete.
Sometimes they would venture out into the city in the afternoon, but somehow Lan managed to sap all of the fun out of these outings as well. Before they would leave, he would sit her down to prepare her, as if each step out of the inn could lead to their downfall. He would only submit to their excursion once he was absolutely certain that she knew where they were to go and by which paths, as well as what words were to be spoken.
Her dream outing had been to see the seamstress. She had been raised by her father and her four older brothers. Even-so she had not escaped the heartache of hand-me-down clothing. Fabric from outgrown shirts and worn pants were trimmed and sewn into dresses. She was good with a needle and thread, and she had never felt pitiful. Never. That was until she had come to the city.
She would watch as fine ladies would parade down the streets. They would exit their carriages in a flash of color as their long silk skirts would swirl in the breeze. Their satin slippers barely seemed to touch the ground beneath their feet. She would watch in the shadows. Her hands would stray across the shabby material of her own garments, wishing that she could be so finely adorned. It was a wish that she would never have spoken aloud. There were far more important things to spend her coins on. But still, in the shadows she wished.
As a Warder, his Aes Sedai's wishes were final, in public. So Lan had made sure that Leah was certain of his wishes before their departure. She was informed that fabrics of blue, green and yellow (quite a bit of yellow to Leah's dismay) would make up the majority of her wardrobe. Red was strictly forbidden as he feared that material may bring out the red in her hair. What did men know about clothing anyway? She had at least managed to sneak in a lovely violet silk.
He had an opinion on everything, and his opinion was final, for the most part. Living with five men had taught her one important lesson: always let the man believe that he is right. Her hair was a perfect example. Flowing loose down her back, it had stirred quite an argument. Lan had insisted that if it was held in a braid at all times, the façade would be more easily maintained. She would be less likely to be caught out of character as it were. So she had agreed quickly, hardly waiting for the door to latch behind him before letting her hands fly to free her tresses.
There was something meaningful in that act of rebellion. It was a reminder of who she was, not Nynaeve, but Leah. He no longer called her by name. In public, she was Myriam, just as Lan was Andra. That was a part of the game, wanting to be noticed while looking like they were trying to remain hidden. In private, she was Nynaeve. Lan never let her forget who she was supposed to be.
A knock at the door startled her into consciousness. She rolled over quickly, slamming her feet onto the floor. Her hands were buried in her hair at once, weaving back and forth without thought. Her eyes darted to the dresser. If she took the time to dress Lan would be angered, and she would incur a lecture on leaving him waiting. If she answered the door in her dressing gown, a different lecture was sure to follow. This one would address her wastefulness of time, time that could be spent reading through the notes that he had compiled for her.
It is my day off! She thought angrily, settling on the dressing gown. Another thing that living with five men had taught her was an abundance of curses, and she mumbled a rather vehement Wagoner's oath under her breath.
She threw open the door with more force than was necessary. It was her day off after all. Her left hand rested on her hip, and her eyes blazed. The face that met her gaze was not the one that she expected. The innkeepers round face was alight with a smile, although it quickly faded as he met her gaze.
"I am sorry Mistress Myriam. I did not mean to interrupt, I..." Leah's upraised hand halted him mid-sentence. Her mood was instantly uplifted.
"You interrupted nothing my good man. Would you care to come in?" She asked opening the door wider, as it had rebounded to leave an opening of little more than a gap. If possible, his face turned a brighter shade of red as he took in her dressing robe. It was her turn to blush. "One moment if you please." The innkeeper nodded violently as she quickly shut the door before her.
After quickly dressing, she returned to her visitor. He stood patiently outside the door, hands clasped behind his back, carefully studying the floorboards beneath his feet. "I am terribly sorry my lady." He quickly began again. And once again he was halted by her raised hand.
"Once again there is nothing to apologize for." She replied, although the slightest hint of red still touched her ears.
"Master Andra had told me to inform him the moment the preparations were finalized. I had checked his room before coming to you. I thought that you would like to know."
"Preparations Master Jordan?" she asked rather quizzically. That infuriating man never told her anything, she thought angrily.
"For the morning my lady. The carriage will arrive shortly after dawn. Master Andra said that they would be expecting you at the palace by midmorning." His eyes grew big at the mention of the palace, and a smile spread slowly across his face. One of his guests, a real lady, would be entertained at the palace of the good Queen Morgase. He still thought of it that way. It was easier than believing stories of another false dragon, or even more frightening, the real Dragon Reborn.
"Very good sir." Leah said with a smile, nodding in dismissal. Master Jordan gave her a bow before turning to leave. He hardly noticed the door closing on his heels.
The palace! She was going to the palace. Leah slumped against the newly shut door. Her hands rose to her chest to slow her racing heart. She was too excited to be angry. She could see it all now. She would wear her new emerald gown, the one that was slashed with the palest of green silk, and embroidered with tiny flowers across the neck and down the sleeves. The dress was cut lower than she liked, showing quite a bit of pale flesh. But the fact was that all of the dresses were cut like that. Yet another of Lan's suggestions. As if an Aes Sedai would wear a garment of that cut.
She rushed quickly to the dresser to check on the condition of her gown. Every inch was perfectly pressed, just as she had left it. Her hands moved over the hems and seams, making sure that there were no loose threads to be trimmed. After she completed this task she was too excited to return to her reading.
She undid the buttons of her plane, but well cut grey dress, and quickly traded it for the green one. She redid her braid, this time much tighter, making sure every strand was in place. She sat down before the mirror on the dressing table. She rummaged through the small oak box that held her meager jewelry collection. Settling on an emerald pendant, she hooked the clasp of the fragile gold chain behind her neck. She stood slowly, preening before the mirror, memorizing every detail. She was going to the palace. Everything had to be perfect. She was so caught up in her preparations she nearly missed the knock at the door.
Forcing herself to return to the present, she grudgingly answered the door. This time it was Lan who stood before her. His dark hair pulled back with the braided leather cord he always wore above his temples was wet, and it came to Leah's attention that the threatening storm must have broken.
Lan openly stared for a moment. His eyes started at her pale green slippers peaking out from under the hem of her gown, up the layers of silk, to the thick braid hanging over her shoulder. "I see that you have heard of tomorrow's excursion."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Leah asked a bit breathlessly. "I will hardly be prepared as it is. There is so much that I need to do. I need to bathe, and have my dress pressed, and about a million other things." It all came out in a rush.
Lan interrupted her rambling. "The carriage leaves first thing in the morning. You will be ready." Leah nodded to the last, although it was a statement, no a question. "You will wear the yellow gown with.."
"I had intended to wear what I have on." Leah said, raising her voice. Her hands once again balled into fists at her sides.
"You will wear the yellow gown with the red flowers. You will not speak to anyone." Leah opened her mouth to argue, but Lan merely continued on. "I will inform the guards that Nynaeve Sedai of the Yellow Ajah wishes to see the Dragon Reborn. I will then..." Lan continued on that way for quite a while longer. Leah pressed her lips together until they were white from lack of blood, and her nails dug into her palms as her anger rose.
Early the next morning the streets of Caemlyn were coming alive. A matching pair of chestnut mares pawed at the earth as they patiently waited to be harnessed to the carriage. Leah walked slowly down the stairs, very slowly. Lan gave her an annoyed look out of the corner of his eye. She gathered up her skirts carefully before climbing into the open door of the carriage (her yellow skirts), and sat stiffly beside the window on the far wall. Lan was seated across from her. The limited space ensured that their knees touched every time a rock or rut caused a jolt. She raised her chin defiantly and watched the city pass before her. I will not let this man ruin this day for me! She thought furiously. I am going to the palace!
Leah gripped her skirts until her knuckles were white from the effort, not only by her anger now. Winter had come crashing down on Camelyn like an avalanche and the thick curtains were not enough to keep the chill from the small cabin. Leah's breath misted before her lips. Her hood was thrown back as if to mock the cold. She was Aes Sedai and the temperature meant nothing to her. She ground her teeth to prevent them from chattering.
The palace gates loomed up before the carriage, steel and stone wrought by expert craftsmen to turn the swords of armies. Leah had seen it all before, but it was different now. It had always seemed so formidable and impenetrable. Now, in her silk gown, with the golden serpent wrapped snuggly around her right index finger, the palace seemed inviting.
The rhythmic clacking of the horses' hooves on the paving stones halted, and Leah could hear muffled voices from the front of the carriage.
"State your name and purpose of visit." The first voice called out. The driver, who had merely been told to head for the palace managed to stammer something to that effect, and quick footsteps soon brought a guard to the window closest to Leah.
The guardsmen appeared to be no more than fifteen although he was most likely older. He looked awkward in his uniform and he tugged at his sword as if unsure of its purpose. He stared at her with his large blue eyes, and when the wind ruffled his sand colored hair, Leah was reminded of her youngest brother Jamis. This feeling was so strong that she bit the inside of her lower lip to force back the threatening smile. I will not let him ruin this!
"Tell the Lord Dragon that Nynaeve al'Meara is here to speak with him." There was no mention of Ajah, no honorific behind the name, but a slight wave of her right hand caused the guard to bow deeply before he quickly signaled the others to let the though. Lan's eyebrow arched, but he made no move to challenge her. Moments later the carriage once again lurched back to life, carrying Leah through the gates, into the palace.
Lan shifted unconsciously as the carriage lurched forward. His face was all stony planes, revealing nothing. All of the pieces had been set on the board. He had made the first move, now all he could do was wait.