Torianin had no words for today. After being a damane for five years, with no will of her own, here she sat in the Grey Tower. She wore a white dress for the first time since that awful day. Since then, it had been a blur of physical and mental pain, and all through it, she had worn the ugliest shade of gray. As she rested on her bed, her hands clenched in her lap, she looked at the snowy skirts covering her legs. Her hand drifted up to her neck for what seemed like the hundredth time, and she felt no cold metal. With no one else in the room, and the intimidating Aes Sedai having gone, she began to cry.

At first, she cried for all those wasted years, for the pain, but then she cried for the happiness she felt. Torianin was free. She could still channel, and these women seemed determined to make her one of them, but...she was willing to put her background aside. These were civilized people here. They weren't crazed monsters. She could find herself here. As the tears came, she curled in on herself and hunched her shoulders. She would need to move among them soon, but for now, she would cry.

~~~

Jhanic had been there when they brought the girl in. She had looked in her early twenties, from what he could tell, but it was hard to do just that, with channelers. She was plump, and had long orange hair, but it was unruly, like someone had made it look that way. Gerine Sedai was in a hurry to get her to the Mistress of Novices, and Jhanic had had to move out of the way while mucking the stalls in the stables. The sister's Warder, Marc Gaidin, had seemed almost annoyed at the situation. According to him, the girl had been a damane until Gerine freed her. It seemed he felt she should have been more grateful while at the same time seeming to be impressed by her. She had laid her captors to waste with lightning, apparently.

The soldier didn't think too much about the encounter and continued to do his chores. He was too old to engage in ditching responsibilities or pulling pranks. After his job was done, he cleaned himself and began to walk to his next class when Kilia Sedai stopped him. "Child, find Akymba in the Kitchens and deliver a message." It was never said, but Jhanic suspected that the teachers of the Grey Tower were grateful that Akymba Solvere had become friends with him. "Tell her that from today, she will be sharing her room with a new novice. She is waiting for her in her room, and Akymba will show her around the Grey Tower."

"Yes, Aes Sedai," he responded with a courteous bow. Kilia Sedai had a small smile on her face when she dismissed him and walked away.

Jhanic had a reputation for being a "stone-faced Aiel" in the Grey Tower, but he found it amusing that many inexperienced novices found him attractive. In the Three-Fold Land, the spear took up most of his life, and he barely noticed glances from women. Now, as he passed through the dining hall to the Kitchens, young women giggled and waved as he walked by. He politely responded to them and continued on his way. The attention was amusing, the giggling was not.

When he found the small treekiller, she was elbow-deep in dishes. "I see you, Akymba Solvere," he said as he approached her.

Older and wiser wasn’t exactly the phrase that one would use to describe the fiery young novice as she’d aged and advanced in her novitiate training, but perhaps “cautious” might be a better term. After repeated and frequent clashes with both her fellow novices and the Accepted and Aes Sedai around her, Akymba had finally learned that her temper earned her nothing but endless rounds of excessive chores, linked directly to her prolific use of her sharp and disrespectful tongue. So to her deep chagrin, the slowly maturing girl learned to curb her vicious temper and show respect to her betters… at least while they were around to hear her.

Well… she had mostly learned. She still had her moments where her temperament got the better of her judgment, and they still led to the same result – being elbow-deep in an enormous pot, scrubbing her hands raw, and cursing beneath her breath whenever she was sure no one would hear. This time, it had been some unwanted attention from a young soldier that had prompted her to dislocate his arm, surprising the young fellow who had underestimated her ferocity for her size. As punishment, she’d been forced to tend to his arm personally as it healed, and had been assigned extra kitchen duties, as though the stern endurance of the pots and cutlery would remind her the importance of temperance. As a result of her sentence, she wasn’t really expecting relief from her imposed solitary work, and looked up with surprise when she heard the door swing open, bright eyes finding the Aiel’s enormous, broad-shouldered form with ease and familiarity. “I’m glad to note that your vision is as steady as ever,” she replied blandly, a careful blend of her usual sharp wit and an appropriately-low tone to prevent any of her superiors from overhearing the edge to her voice.

Despite the snark though, it was a friendly-enough statement, coming from Akymba – this passed as an almost fond tease, from the gruff, dark haired young woman, and she moved on pleasantly enough. “What brings you? I’d almost expected to be down here alone until next year. Tell me at least that you had the grace to shave Tre’adon very closely before you came down here.” That suggestion was another familiar one – she’d often jokingly requested that he “take care of” various people that had offended her, a sure sign of trust and friendship from the otherwise enigmatic, bad-tempered woman. And since she was fairly sure news of her encounter with the young solider was all over the tower by now, she referenced it shamelessly.

Jhanic smiled briefly at his small friend. He always thought she would make a good example of a Maiden of the Spear. She spoke her own truth with no thought to what others would think. "I...had some words with him," he explained. "I'll save the shaving for when he's Healed, to maintain your honor." He had tried to warn Tre'adon against making too many advances toward Akymba Solvere.

"As for my presence now, Kilia Sedai sent me to deliver a message. You have a new roommate. She is waiting for you in your room. Kilia Sedai would like you to take a break from your chores and show her around the Grey Tower." He paused for a moment, thinking of the girl he had seen before.

"If she is the same new novice I saw before, she is a newly freed damane. I would advise you to..." he searched for words. "Use more caution than you normally do."

His grin was answered with one of her own, a curiously wolfish one coming from such a delicately featured face. “As ever, you are the spirit of wisdom, Jhanic – kicking the fellow while he’s down would be a little uncouth, wouldn’t it? Mustn’t let them think I’m not a lady.” Of course, dislocating the fellow’s arm probably hadn’t been the best way to convince him that she was a lady, but at minimum it had taught him that she was not to be trifled with. It had served her purpose, despite the impish grin that told the tale that she’d rather enjoyed the look of astonishment on Tre’adon’s face… right before the shock of pain that had deflated his ego significantly. If he hadn’t been clever enough to use caution with her before, at Jhanic’s suggestion, he would be wise to remember this demonstration in the future. With the Aiel, she didn’t even pretend to harbor any shame for what she’d done, but he ought to be used to that, by now.

And she’d have gladly continued such talk too, except of course he hadn’t come simply for a social visit. She wiped her hands on her apron when he indicated that one of the Sisters had sent for her, and looked up at his craggy face in a combination of dread and morbid interest. The news he finally bore to her made her cringe. “A roommate?” It was hard to tell exactly how she felt about that from those words alone, though the troubled expression that crept onto her face indicated that at minimum, she wasn’t best pleased with the news. And a former damane?

Had Kilia Sedai lost her ever-loving mind, putting her in to bunk with a coarse-mannered, indelicate young woman like herself? “Is she crazy?” Because it was only Jhanic, and she’d developed a keen trust for him, she voiced that thought without fear that he would go running to any one of the authority figures to get more penance assigned to her, but the tone alone told how surprised she was to hear that. “Jhanic, you know this is a bad idea. You know that.”

Akymba continued to contemplate Tre'adon's future punishment...probably more than Jhanic himself did. She sarcastically commented on her status as a lady in his contemporary's eyes, which earned a laugh from him. The concept of being a lady was something that still amused Jhanic. When the topic changed to her new roommate, Akymba Solvere's demeanor changed. Instead of joking, she seemed unsettled. The stones under her feet had changed to sand, as far as she was concerned. It was times like this that the Aiel could feel the distance in their ages. He almost felt like she was a fellow warrior most of the time, but in situations like this, he felt he should act almost as a mentor.

His grin disappeared and Jhanic considered his friend, in her white novice dress. He could almost see a woman in cadin'sor who had just been given strange advice from a Wise One. They were not in the Three Fold Land, but this young woman needed to learn to move with the sand beneath her feet now. "It is not for either of us to decide if it is a good idea or not. Perhaps Kilia Sedai believes your presence will help ease the girl's stress. I have never spoke with a damane, but I have seen the destruction they are made to cause, and I have read that they are trained to be completely submissive. If she can don a novice dress, perhaps she needs someone to show her how to be free."

If she could have heard his thoughts now, she’d have denied his assessment of her reaction with all her being… even though he was closer to the mark than she even admitted to herself. Change – and such dramatic change – was not a strength of hers, and Jhanic had ample opportunity, throughout their friendship, to witness that. The girl had been brought here from a remote, isolated town that abhorred magic users and everything to do with them, and it had taken most of the first three months for her teachers to even convince her that she was truly able to do what they’d claimed she could, on her first day. She’d fought that change in her life with every fiber of her being, because beneath the veneer of assumed confidence… it frightened her. She was older now, and had learned how to control what she felt and what she expressed more easily than when she had first come, but it still didn’t make things like this easier to process. And that was why she still remained in her novitiate’s robes, though she’d been here for years, now.

The Aiel knew this about his young friend, but his greater age and his experience with her meant that he could address it in a way that would help to resolve it in her mind, rather than cause more unrest. In his way of thinking, it could be expressed not as solidifying the ground for her, but in teaching her feet to accept the slide of the sand beneath her and use it to her advantage, rather than fighting it and falling on her face. “Teach her to be free?” That was a curious idea, and as she drew a deep breath and took a completely-unacknowledged comfort from his presence, she turned that concept carefully over in her mind. At last, her face broke with a smile, and she looked more herself again. “Well isn’t that the Aes Sedai’s own joke, me teaching a damane to be free?” She reached behind herself to untie the apron, and lifted her hands to the mass of scraggly bun at the back of her head to take it down, not troubling to set it completely in order, just yet. “You’re perfectly right, of course. That’s exactly it. Thank you, Jhanic… I’ll see about it immediately. Come find me later, and I’ll tell you all about it.” And with a small smile, she was gone, navigating the many winding halls and stairwells to her own room, and reminding herself sternly to be gentle as she pushed open the door, heart thumping warily as she peered inside. “Hello?”

Torianin must have been a sight, huddled on her bed, arms wrapped around her knees as she wept. She couldn't even keep her head up, or her unruly hair out of her face. At this point, it felt like her body was just crying, because she hadn't been allowed to for so long. It was tiring. There was still a rather loud and rather insistent voice in the back of her mind that was afraid of punishment later. Whenever that voice got too loud, her hand would wander to her throat, where there was no collar to be found. She would have to relearn many things, like speaking to people as equals, making eye contact. These people all spoke in different ways. Not only different from her, but different from each other. She would have to learn a great many new things as well, it seemed. The woman who was known as the Mistress of Novices seemed hesitant to make her a novice, saying that she was too powerful already, but Gerine Sedai insisted. She didn't even know what an Aes Sedai was when she had been rescued. The Mistress of Novices had looked as though she had been slapped when the other Aes Sedai said that she had first called her a marath'damane. In the eyes of her people, that's what they all were.

"Those who should be collared."

After spending five years in the collar, at the hands of an unexpectedly vengeful twin, Torianin knew that no one should be collared. It would take a great deal of healing before she could forgive Lumanin...if she was still alive.

The young woman took a few breaths before she realized she was no longer crying. She felt an anger begin to well up. Her body felt tired. The way her face was sticky, rather than wet, she assumed that she had just run out of tears. Taking a deep breath, she uncoiled herself and sat on the side of the bed. She could tell that another girl lived in this room. She hoped she wasn't a meek sheep, like the other damane that were sent to her to sooth her nerves.

When the door to her new quarters clicked open, Torianin pushed the anger away. Looking up, she saw through orange curls a young woman peek in. "Hello?" the other girl asked. She saw dark hair and a white dress, identical to hers. The other novice was shorter than Torianin, but not by much. "Um...hello," she answered, or at least she tried. Her voice was terribly cracked and strained. Clearing her throat a couple of times seemed to help. "Hello," she said again, feeling annoyance as her eyes began to drift to the floor out of habit. She pulled them back up, but kept her hair in her face, knowing that it was likely red and blotchy. "Are you..." She paused, trying to think of the term the Aes Sedai had used. "Are you R--" Stopping herself, she felt the anger again, but pushed it back. She would not use that name. "Are you my roommate?" she asked, wishing her voice was perhaps a bit stronger.

There was a lump on the bed, the one that had lain empty for so long in the room meant for two people that she’d nearly forgotten that the room she’d been given was intended to house more than just herself. Okay no, it wasn’t really a lump… but for as much as it moved and seemed to have life, Akymba thought it might as well have been. It wore a novice dress, and had hair of a fiery orange tone that vaguely resembled something human, but the look was baser – less human, more animal, because of course, that was what Torianin had been taught that she was, or at least she’d been told that was her value.

She needs to learn to be free, she reminded herself, keeping Jhanic’s words in mind and trying to let it smooth away her ordinarily less-than-gentle temperament. “You’re a mess. Here.” Well… she’d tried, and the handkerchief that she extended toward the other young woman – simple and plain, but clean – to dry her face with was a concerted attempt on her part to empathize, as much as her rough personality allowed. She gave Torianin silence then, to wipe her face dry and attempt to compose herself, and took the time to study her new living partner. She looked to be about her own age, and a keen eye for measurements derived from building fences and barns back on the farm told her that the red head was taller than she was, but not by much, and she seemed to be having difficulty maintaining eye contact.

Absolute submission, he said. “I am Akymba Solvere. Five years I’ve had this room alone – I assumed they’d found no one willing or suitable to share it with me. You’ll excuse me, I’ve spread out a bit, in that time. I’ll get my things out of your section of the wardrobe in a few moments. I’ve just come back from chores.” She moved to the basin then, turning her back on Torianin because she figured if she couldn’t keep eye contact, it probably made her uncomfortable to be stared at. It took a few moments to wash her face and freshen up a bit, and when she turned around again, comb in hand to straighten out the long tresses, she spoke again. “So do you have a name, then? I wasn’t told.”

There was a lump on the bed, the one that had lain empty for so long in the room meant for two people that she’d nearly forgotten that the room she’d been given was intended to house more than just herself. Okay no, it wasn’t really a lump… but for as much as it moved and seemed to have life, Akymba thought it might as well have been. It wore a novice dress, and had hair of a fiery orange tone that vaguely resembled something human, but the look was baser – less human, more animal, because of course, that was what Torianin had been taught that she was, or at least she’d been told that was her value.

She needs to learn to be free, she reminded herself, keeping Jhanic’s words in mind and trying to let it smooth away her ordinarily less-than-gentle temperament. “You’re a mess. Here.” Well… she’d tried, and the handkerchief that she extended toward the other young woman – simple and plain, but clean – to dry her face with was a concerted attempt on her part to empathize, as much as her rough personality allowed. She gave Torianin silence then, to wipe her face dry and attempt to compose herself, and took the time to study her new living partner. She looked to be about her own age, and a keen eye for measurements derived from building fences and barns back on the farm told her that the red head was taller than she was, but not by much, and she seemed to be having difficulty maintaining eye contact.

Absolute submission, he said. “I am Akymba Solvere. Five years I’ve had this room alone – I assumed they’d found no one willing or suitable to share it with me. You’ll excuse me, I’ve spread out a bit, in that time. I’ll get my things out of your section of the wardrobe in a few moments. I’ve just come back from chores.” She moved to the basin then, turning her back on Torianin because she figured if she couldn’t keep eye contact, it probably made her uncomfortable to be stared at. It took a few moments to wash her face and freshen up a bit, and when she turned around again, comb in hand to straighten out the long tresses, she spoke again. “So do you have a name, then? I wasn’t told.”

As her new roommate introduced herself, Torianin's anger began to subside. She would save it for something else. From seeing the way Aes Sedai and their students acted around here, she understood that she would be using other emotions than anger. The first thing the other girl did when she stood up from the bed was offer a handkerchief, stating that she was a mess. A flash of embarrassment overtook her, and she wiped her dried tears away. Before she could apologize, the girl spoke again.

Torianin looked around as the girl explained that she had spread out a bit, for being in the room alone for five years. For five years... Blinking, she moved her hair back from her face. It felt a little less swollen, now. Her roommate said that her name was Akymba Solvere. She had heard this accent before, but she couldn't place it quite yet. She wondered what chores would be expected of her here. Her hands lingered on both sides of her neck, reminding herself that she was no longer collared.

Akymba asked her a question, making Torianin turn toward her, trying not to jump. "Ah...Yes." She cleared her throat again when she wanted to answer as Ri once again. "My name is Torianin." She had a family name once...she had a family once. "I...I don't mind if you spread your things out. I don't have anything of my own...yet." Five years with that thing around her neck, and she had forgotten how to be herself, by herself? No. She had been Torianin before, and she would be her again. Slowly, she selected some tresses of her own hair and looked and the tangled mess. Lumanin had teased it, not allowing Torianin to even trim it. It used to look so beautiful. "A comb...Do you have a comb that I can borrow? Please?" Her voice was still meek, but at least she had thought of herself.

“Nevertheless, you will have, soon.” Akymba’s voice was breezy as she said this, as though it were a foregone conclusion and ought not to be questioned. As though Torianin having room to keep her non-existent things was a right to be expected – and indeed it was. The former damane simply hadn’t been in that frame of mind in quite some time. “If nothing else, you’ll need room for toiletries, a comb, and a spare dress, once they get you all set up. Much may be said of life here at the Tower – but though it is not by any means luxurious, the necessities are provided for.” She finished pulling the comb through her hair after some trouble with a stubborn knot, and regarded the other young woman again, almost confused by her request for a comb. She… didn’t have one?

Of course, the snarl of Torianin’s hair made it obvious that she hadn’t done much in the way of self care in some time, but Akymba had assumed she was merely travel worn – many came to the Grey Tower from unpleasant family circumstances, where either isolation or insufficient funds prevented traveling in even the most modest measure of comfort; rough-looking arrivals were not uncommon. Now, she reconsidered her earlier assessment, and extended the comb in her hand to Torianin. “This one’s older than the last age, I think… was my mother’s before it was mine. But it still serves the purpose. I’ll be happy to share it with you, until the Mistress of Novices gets your things sent up.” Still keeping Jhanic’s cautionary words in mind, the dark haired young woman deliberately spoke in a rough attempt to spare her new roommate’s fragile dignity, as though it was merely an issue of having Torianin’s things sent for, rather than her having none. “Once you’ve got the worst of it out, maybe a trip to the baths. Get the road grime out of it, and you’ll feel like a real person again. It’s your first day, so I doubt they’ll begrudge you a soak and a hair wash.”

Privately, she was thinking to herself that Torianin could probably use a little help with the multitude of tangles in her hair, and maybe even with washing it, if it had been as long as she suspected since the last time, but Akymba did not offer her assistance, primarily because she was still feeling out this stranger and trying to figure out where that line was between helping her, and potentially frightening or angering her if she perceived pity. “So, Torianin… and I presume you like to use the full name, since you didn’t shorten it. It’s a mouthful, but-“ She paused, and looked the other woman over. “- it suits you. I always thought Akymba was a bit too flowery for me, but there’s no way to shorten it without making me sound like a little slip of a girl with no sense.”

Torianin took the comb gratefully, She wondered if her thanks was even audible to anyone but her. As much as she wanted to reclaim her identity, she had been less than an animal for so long. It would take time. Her shoulders hunched, and her head hanging, she was trying as hard as she could not to take up space. She had not been of the Blood, but she had at least had some individuality. Even in her mind, when everyone was asleep, and it was just her and the a'dam, she would rage silently, not even letting the ire show on her face to the darkness. She had trained herself perfectly, relying on that training to survive, but now...she no longer needed it.

As she began to pick at the knots in her hair, she turned her head to what would be her side of the small room. She would have her own possessions soon, then. Where would she put...things? It seemed she had a desk now. Would she have books? How long had it been since she had read anything, or written anything? A particularly painful snare made her wince. Taking in a breath, she continued, trying to pull apart the collection of knots, at least into a group of smaller, separate knots. It didn't work, but it gave her something to concentrate on. Akymba gave her reassuring words for her time here. Torianin had the feeling she wasn't used to being diplomatic.

When the other girl said that her name suited her, the orange-haired novice picked up her head and locked eyes with her new roommate. Blinking green eyes, she hesitated for a moment. "Thank you." She smiled, still an unusual and unfamiliar sensation. Her voice had picked up momentarily. "Yes, I would like to use my whole name." Her voice dropped a bit, but she had felt a small sensation of familiarity now, with this other young woman. "While I was a damane..." She nearly choked on the word, as she beat down the impulse to explain that she was a good damane and retreat to the corner of the room. She began to pick at her hair again, stroking the orange curls with the comb to remind herself of the control she had. She blinked again, to rid her eyes of the fear she knew they held, but not for Akymba. "...My name was shortened to Ri. I was allowed to be no one else."

Sighing in relief as she finally smoothed out a stubborn snarl, Torianin continued. "Of course...that was just a few hours ago," she explained, in a half-hearted attempt at a joke. As soon as she uttered it, she realized it wasn't a joke. "Perhaps...they'll have remedial classes on humor..." she muttered.