His First Glimpse (Open)

“Should I wear the ribbons,” Cassendre was asking, holding up half her luxuriously cleaned and brushed dark brown hair, along with the long, white silk ribbon, “or the clip?” She dropped the ribbon and held up the clip in its place, a simple white lacquered thing that looked like she’d probably pinched it from one of the Accepted’s rubbish bins. The twinkle in her eye made Bennon think that was precisely what she did.

“Oh, the ribbon, yes,” Trudeth, tall and handsome, slid behind her to fill the frame of the mirror, the two girls giggling as they tied up Cass’ hair.  Bennon sat across the common room in an overstuffed chair, legs folded beneath him and arms relaxed almost meditatively on either knee, with a book in one hand and a carrot in the other.  No one knew where he’d found the carrot–none of them had left the novice quarters in hours–but he’d been crunching on it steadily for the past half hour.  Between that and reading his book, the others seemed to have forgotten him entirely.  Easy to do with simple Bennon.

Feona, the gorgeous Domani, and two more girls Bennon had never seen, one almost mannish in size, the other short but pleasantly plump, walked over to offer their opinions, while Hahn smugly laid another stone on the board between him and Daigo.  Of the seven, Hahn was the only one Bennon knew at all; he was certain he had only been invited as some modicum of counterbalance to the overabundance of women in the party.  One history lesson seated next to one another good friends did not make, but Hahn was jovial enough, as Novices went.

In fact, compared to many of the others, this selection of Novices was probably one of the more rambunctious; Asha’man Altiss would probably not approve of his choice in friends.

All the more reason to keep them, Bennon figured.

“Oy, Benn,” Hahn called, as if having heard Bennon’s thoughts, “put that nonsense away.  You can dream about Farstrider any day other than today.” He and Daigo had a laugh at that, but Bennon just clapped the book closed and rolled his eyes without replying.  The girls didn’t so much as bat a made-up eye, so absorbed where they in now braiding one another’s hair to match. Bennon hadn’t read any Farstrider in years, not that he wouldn’t gladly.  This was in fact the book assigned by his and Hahn’s history instructor; a book Hahn no doubt had not yet seen, let alone borrowed from the library as they had been instructed.

Finishing off his carrot, Bennon stepped over to the two boys to observe their game more closely.  Soft brown eyes quickly puzzled out each of their strategies, or as best he could guess anyway–he was no great stonesman. A smile did find its way over to his lips, however; Hahn was a dead man, Bennon realized, and he didn’t even know it.  He gave Daigo a glance, one brow canted up in obvious question over his formation, which seemed aimed at extending the game for as long as possible while still hedging in Hahn’s black stones at every possible junction.  Daigo nodded sagely without ever having to look up at the Illianer and calmly placed his next piece–directly in front of Hahn’s leading stone.  The daft Arafellan actually laughed as he took it with his own, but Benn knew Daigo would be the one laughing in the end.  In fact, he was already grinning for his side.

“We’re ready,” Cassendre declared to all three boys, settling over the stones board opposite Bennon and crossing her arms beneath her small but not insignificant breast.  Her eyes narrowed as she saw him looking, then she swung for the door with her gaggle, no, clowder of girls, ten identical Arafellan braids swinging delicately behind them; well, Mangirl’s did not swing delicately, they swept almost menacingly across her neck and shoulders, if hair could be described in such a way–and, Light, did she have big shoulders, bigger than Bennon’s no doubt.  Cassendre was the only one wearing the white ribbons, he noticed just before they disappeared out into the hall; the other four had opted for simple strings.  No doubting who was captaining this crew.

“We’d best be after them,” Hahn smiled at his two companions, jogging off to catch Cassendre, and Bennon noticed at once that he had the same twin braids as the girls.  Perhaps it was some homage to the patriarch of the group?  Some tip of the hat from Cass?

“Bloody hens anyway,” Daigo uttered, sharing a smile with Bennon as he started off after the others at a leisurely walk.  Daigo wore the topknot of Shienar, though it seemed shorter than it ought.  Admittedly, Bennon was no expert on Shienaran culture, and he wasn’t about to ask the man about it already; they’d just met this morning.  Benn’s head was shaved down to a clean quarter inch from his scalp.  Compared with the others, with little to distinguish between their matching whites other than their hair and their skin, Benn had the cleanest, crispest look, but that hardly made up for his plain face in their sea of nationalities.  Borderlanders and Westerners, one of the girls was even Seafolk, and a Mayener.  Next to them, the Illianer was just another face, until he opened his mouth to speak, that is; which he planned to do little of at this Festival.

Finding himself alone with his observations in the common room, Bennon took the time to put away his book and make one definitive move on Hahn’s behalf that would at least give his stones a fighting chance, if they happened to remember to return to them before anyone else came along and started their own game.  Then, at a quick clip, he strode off to catch the others.

—–

The Hall was glorious.  Cassendre’s group stood frozen at the threshold when Bennon came upon them, all eyes wide and wandering, mouths agape or in subconscious smiles at the grandeur of it all.  Bennon was no better; he was instantly struck dumb by the magnitude of the festivities, but also the bevy of faces, old and young and ageless, gliding past as if in a dream.  Someone behind them issued them onward with a curt command, obviously Aes Sedai, and they all hurriedly hustled to one wall inside the Hall to continue their gawking.  There was much to gawk at, after all, and not all of it in the form of decorations and lighting.  All the greats were out.  Aes Sedai and Asha’man–Light, a whole cadre of Asha’man– and Accepted and, oh, there went a Sitter!  And another!  There was the Keeper and … Bennon’s breath caught in his throat.  The Amyrlin.

Bennon was not easily impressed, and, when he was impressed, he rarely made a big to-do about it.  But, this was his first glimpse of the Amyrlin Seat since getting dragged down this undertow of lessons and chores and rules and penance, or ever.  If he weren’t so taken aback, he might actually laugh at himself.  The Amyrlin had quite literally taken his breath away.

Oh, Light, the boys would have a field day with that.  But they didn’t.  Cass’ crew was unusually silent.  So, Bennon forced his eyes away from the enigma that was the Amyrlin Seat, to find the others, but they were all as awestruck as he.  So, not to waste the moment, he simply cleared his throat, which satisfied him in getting their attention, and started walking toward Her–and away from them, effectively making the first move.  Cassendre looked poleaxed.  He stepped up as near the dais as he dared, bowed deeply to the Amyrlin, and moved quickly on to the refreshments table.  He knew enough not to speak to one such as she, especially with her in that particular cut of gown; he got enough guff on his accent from his instructors, he hardly needed the greatest of all the Aes Sedai jumping on board.

Filling a glass of what looked and smelled like strawberry juice, Bennon finally took a moment to regain his breath; he’d been holding it the entire walk across the room.  For some odd reason, he felt as if every eye was on him just then, but if it were only the Amyrlin’s two it would be more than enough.  What was he thinking?  He didn’t like, or want, anyone’s attention.  It was so much easier sailing when no one was watching, waiting for you, or, worse, expecting you to run aground.  Perhaps she was one of those Ta’veren, like the Dragon Reborn, bending everyone around her without even knowing it.  He chanced a look at her and saw her piercing gaze staring back.  He quickly diverted his eyes, too late, found his drink again and busied himself with finding some crackers or something to shove in his mouth along with it.  Oh, she knew what she was doing alright.

((OOC: Open to anyone.  And, feel free to use any of the many NPCs I just spat out–ha, I’d like to think I do Jordan proud in that regard… >,O ))