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Garnet Sei'Tar & Accepted Vincet: "Babes in the Woods"

Garnet Ayriel do Jin a’Lucien
Babes In The Woods (Oh, Vincet...)
Sun Jan 11 2004 6:32:23 pm

Garnet had decided that she liked Accepted. She liked them, in fact, a lot. Novices were good too – no one could deny that – but she had come here, after all, to learn to be a Warder, and the Novices were still at least a decade from gaining their shawls. She’d learnt that after a while here, although the young Aethan’Tar suspected that it would take a very long time before she understood everything about the White Tower. Not that it mattered; she would learn things as she needed to. That way she would know at least the minimum that she had to, and no one could tell her that she knew nothing.

The Aethan’Tar brushed her curls of red hair back away from her face, watching her reflection in the mirror. She knew – she had always known – that she was pretty, if not beautiful. Her parents had told her first, and then as she grew up her friends had told her that too. As adolescence found her, her lovers had begun to tell her that she was beautiful, and Garnet knew they were right. If she was not beautiful, they would not want her. If they had not been beautiful, she would not have wanted them.

And yes, she was beautiful, more so than almost anyone else she had ever seen. It was as if the Creator had personally overseen her birth, choosing exactly the right shade of red to set in her hair so that the red shimmered and sparked like flames, like the garnets she was named for. Then, accentuating her hair, there was the blue of her eyes, bright as sapphires, soft as a summer sky. No one else she had seen had such perfectly blue eyes. For a long moment, the Aethan’Tar gazed deep into her own eyes, lost in herself.

A flicker of movement in the corner of her mirror caught her eye, and she turned to see what was happening. A butterfly had alighted on the sill of the window that led out into the gardens. Garnet stood slowly, watching the tiny creature open and shut its wings. She had always loved butterflies, loved to chase them and pretend to catch them. Once she had accidentally crushed one, and had wept with remorse at the sight of the fragile creature’s body lying lifelessly in her hands. Death was not something Garnet understood, or wanted to.

It was as if the same Creator who had given her a perfect face and body had given her a longing to be near living, beautiful creatures. Garnet approached the butterfly very quietly, not quite daring to reach out and touch its rainbow wings. If she did, she knew that the multi-coloured dust would rub off on her finger, but the little butterfly would have lost some of what it needed to fly. Even though she wanted to hold it, she couldn’t face destroying the tiny thing. Her sigh must have seemed like a hurricane to the butterfly, which fluttered its wings uncertainly as her breath brushed it.

Outside the window, the gardens were lit with winter sunlight. For a moment Garnet frowned, puzzled by the presence of the butterfly – but then, of course, the Aes Sedai always kept some of the plants flowering. She had never seen flowers in the snow before. There were roses blooming, crimson red petals just brushing soft white snow crystals. Entranced, the Aethan’Tar watched them as they bowed to the snow and seemed to kiss it before rising again in the gentle breeze. Now that she could take hold of if she wanted to, if she felt like walking out into the snow.

Turning away from the window, Garnet tried to remember where she’d left her cloak. In a corner near her bed, most likely, where she’d tossed it after arriving back in the barracks the previous evening. The young trainee retrieved it and brushed it off quickly, then slung it around her shoulders and fastened the clip. It had been designed just for her, a polished garnet cut into the shape of a heart and set in gilded metal. Shaking back her auburn curls, Garnet pulled open the door of her room and set off towards the gardens, determined to find and pick that flower.

Her boots crunched in the snow, making the Aethan’Tar giggle at the sound. Here and there she could see other trainees wandering past, both Novices and other Aethan’Tar as well as the older Accepted and Sei’Tar. None approached her, although several gave her broad grins. She recognized some of her more recent conquests and smiled back, occasionally giving one of them a little wave as well. But even these pretty boys and girls would not distract her from her mission. She wanted that flower, and what she wanted she always got. That was the way life worked.

Soon enough the rose’s petals were caressing her hand. Garnet crouched in the snow beside it, her face fixed with concentration as she took in every slight movement. She loved pretty things, always had and always would. Did she want to pick it? No, not really. It was enough to know it existed. With a last gentle touch, she let it be and straightened up again, belatedly realizing that someone had been watching her just as she had watched the rose. A handsome man, Garnet decided; an Accepted, by the banded hem of his shirt and breeches, and one whose eyes hid much of what he thought.

"Good morning," she called to him, but quietly, and smiled her breathtaking smile. "My name is Garnet. Did you wish to...talk to me?"

Accepted Vincet Justinian
Plaything
Sun Jan 11 2004 9:46:37 pm

Vincet yawned. He wasn’t really tired, but yawning was one of those things like stretching or whistling that you could do with a minimum of effort to disguise the fact that you weren’t actually doing anything at all. He’d done the former a few minutes ago, and in a few minutes more he’d give the latter a go. In the interim, yawning worked. It wasn’t much of a way to pass the time, but it was far preferable than some of the alternatives Aes Sedai could think up for an idling Accepted. They didn’t watch him so closely as they had when he was a Novice; apparently the new rainbow band on his clothes worked as some type of camouflage, but they’d still scoop him up if they needed parcels, baskets, or books carried if he didn’t seem active enough to suit their tastes. Yawning seemed to work, even if it only made them think he was too tired for bust work.

In truth, his hands itched. Of course, admitting that to an Aes Sedai would be tantamount to begging for a chore. He really wanted to take out his knife and carve something, just to pass the time. It wouldn’t have to be anything fancy, scarcely even what would’ve amounted to a try-piece at home, as long as it meant he was doing something. But getting caught whittling in the Gardens was an even more effective way of telling the sisters you had too much time on your hands, and would they please help fill the hours? For now, the most activity he could risk while waiting was yawning.

So he did, and huddled down a little further in his cloak. White, of course, with an adorable little multicolored hem denoting his status in Tower hierarchy. Those colors didn’t bother him so much—it was the lack of color on the rest of the cloak he found annoying. Tar Valon was solidly in northern territories, especially for someone hailing from southerly Mayene, and judging from the snow on the ground, it was winter. Under those conditions, white was hardly the color of choice if you wanted to leech a little warmth out of the wan sunlight. Oh, some other alban-clad figures moved about in the Gardens as if it was a bloody wonderland, but they all claimed northern points of origin. And they were moving to boot. Sitting—more or less—atop one of the Gardens’ low walls near the Training Yard and trying to come up with ways to look busy while not actually being busy weren’t activities conducive to staying warm.

Now, looking… Looking was occasionally enough to warm you up. He was waiting, yes, but that didn’t mean he had to keep his eyes shut. It was easy to miss any oncoming Aes Sedai that way. Besides, it passed the time.

For the moment, though, the only beauties worth watching were in the flowerbeds, kept alive by the Power despite the chill in the air and the snow on the ground. Red roses against the snow made for quite the lovely, magical dichotomy, like something out of a gleeman’s tale. Even after all this time in the White Tower, watching what passed as miracles and wonders performed every day, the sight was enough to make him smile.

He was still smiling slightly when the girl walked over to crouch before the rosebush and gently touch the petals. At least she didn’t pluck the blossoms; he’d spent enough hours working in the Gardens as part of his chores to consider most of the plants, eldritch or not, as friends. Acquaintances, anyway. It wouldn’t seem right to watch them pulled into death, not after struggling along to see what few plants ever saw—the depths of winter. When the girl, apparently a Warder trainee, finally straightened and looked over at him, he had another reason to smile.

She was quite pretty, and somehow familiar. With red hair kissed by fire and clear blue eyes set in a lovely face and accentuated by an equally lovely figure, this girl was enough to take most men’s breath away. And her smile definitely ranked among the most dazzling he’d seen, and considering the amount of time he spent in Briar Rose Sedai’s company, that was dazzling indeed. "Good morning," she said politely, the smile lighting up her face. "My name is Garnet. Did you wish to… talk to me?"

Garnet… Now why did that sound familiar? He worked the problem over in his mind as he stood, unconsciously straightening under her gaze and taking a few steps to close with her. No need to shout at one another from across the Garden, after all. "Didn’t plan to, no… But I wouldn’t mind a bit of conversation just now," he answered, smiling back. "I’m Vincet."

"Vincet…" she repeated, with an even wider smile now gracing her lips. She seemed to move with him when he approached at first, but then she took a step to the side and started pacing around him, as if to consider him from all sides. That was a little… strange. "What brings you into the Gardens on this fine day, Vincet?" Garnet asked from somewhere behind him, just coming into view on his right as she continued her circuit. Something about her demeanor was very close to setting him on edge, making his green eyes narrow slightly. Eyes… That was it. Her eyes, so like deep azure pools, but considering, calculating, even estimating. Altogether too… predatory… for his liking.

"Actually, Garnet," he began, and stopped just as suddenly. Garnet. That Garnet. Her. The… amorous one. No wonder she seemed so familiar. And rapacious. He smile slipped, but only a little. He needed to extricate himself from this predicament, before…

"Vincet?" A new voice spoke from behind him, one altogether too familiar.

Oh, bloody hell…

"Actually," he repeated like a man about to start the long walk to the gallows, "I was just waiting for someone."

Accepted Signe Rose al’Tammas
Bewitching Games
Mon Jan 12 2004 1:36:57 pm

Why, why was she even here? Signe couldn’t remember. Maybe Amadeus had told her to come, or Fionn, or maybe both – sometimes they agreed on what they wanted her to do, and then she didn’t have any choice in the matter. As it was, she was cold. Whoever had commanded her to walk out through the gardens hadn’t realized that it was winter and that more clothing than just a shift might, perhaps, be useful. The only good thing – and she was having to try hard to find any good things at this present moment – was that the shift at least looked like a white Novice dress. Not that she was a Novice any more, or at least she was pretty sure she wasn’t, but it was better than being mistaken for a trainee or petitioner.

Signe, I really think you should be going towards the kitchens, Fionn said reprovingly. The Aethan’Tar’s ghostly body danced around her twin’s, insubstantial shoves aiming her in the direction she wanted. As if that were a signal – and Light only knew that it might be – Amadeus’ equally spirit-like build shoved her back the other direction. I told you, Fionn, he muttered, she has to go this way. Can’t you ever admit I’m right? Signe sighed. They’d never stop. She was almost resigned to the possibility of having two ghosts following her around for the rest of her life, since there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it. It was annoying and upsetting, especially when they fought, but she had to put up with them.

"Tell you what, I’ll go wherever you want if you let me just go back and fetch a dress and cloak," Signe bargained. "And some shoes too." Her feet were freezing, although admittedly they were now so cold that she couldn’t feel them any more. That was probably for the best, because when she had been able to feel them they’d been screaming with the pain of the cold. As she’d expected, her twin ghosts let out simultaneous and strangely identical snorts. Why should they care whether she froze? They weren’t even real, or at least she hoped they weren’t. And yet there was a strange pleasure in having these two near, these two that she’d thought she’d lost.

He doesn’t care about you, he wouldn’t even let you brush your hair, why would he be kind enough to let you get some clothes? Fionn shot, pretending to be addressing Signe. The three of them all knew that it was a taunt for Amadeus, and Signe had nothing to do with it at all. The Accepted sighed again. She’d been roused from bed, from one of the short naps that she’d managed to catch, and sent out into the snow and the brightness of daytime without a chance to do anything. Lucky she wasn’t one of those girls who slept in nothing but their skin, because she was certain that the ghosts wouldn’t have given her time to pull on even the lightest dress before dragging her outside.

"You know, you could always tell me why we need to be out here," she told them quietly. "People are staring." It was true; the few who had gotten close enough to see that she was wearing only a shift, without a dress or even a cloak, had nearly gone pop-eyed before hastily turning away. They could see all too well that there was something wrong with her, but since this was the White Tower they didn’t dare approach her. For all they knew she might be a mad Aes Sedai, in which case it was of course better to wait until her sisters caught up with her and dragged her off to the infirmary. Which was where, Signe acknowledged, she was entirely likely to be going – again – after this little escapade.

The ghosts had found their way into the gardens, hauling their reluctant companion along with them. Signe was pleased, if only because it went she wasn’t walking barefoot through snow. Here, some of the ground had been thawed so that plants could grow. Her feet crushed delicate blades of grass as she walked, leaving a single line of footsteps through the green. No matter how hard her twin spirits tried, they couldn’t leave a mark on anything except Signe herself. It didn’t matter; she knew that they were there, one on either side of her as always. No one else knew; no one else could see them. They were there nevertheless.

Look, look what I see. Fionn. And, almost immediately, him! as Amadeus caught sight of where his arch-rival was pointing. Signe looked as well, her heart lighting up at the sight of the young man whose back was currently being presented to her. She knew him well enough that she could recognize him from almost any angle – it was Vincet. The ghosts didn’t like him because his presence forced them to flee. That meant, of course, that Signe could not think of a single other person she’d rather have nearby. She smiled and quickened her step, despite the determined efforts of Fionn and Amadeus to drag her back.

The Accepted didn’t notice the other girl until it was too late, until she’d opened her mouth and spoken Vincet’s name. Then she saw her, just as the ghosts vanished muttering back to wherever they’d come from. Vincet was close enough to drive them back; if only he could always be that close. But when she saw the girl’s face, she could almost wish for their comforting presence. Garnet. Garnet, Garnet...the touch of a hand on her shoulder when she cried, love and acceptance pouring through the Bond, laughter from the room beside hers at night...

No, no, that wasn’t real. It wasn’t real! She...she’s met Vincet, look, it’s not real. But it could be. She might have just forgotten this first meeting, this once. Signe stared. Garnet. She couldn’t be real – she’d been part of the Arches, a figment of the Accepted’s imagination. But hadn’t Briar said once that she’d had a Warder in the Arches who had arrived at the Tower...real, alive, just as he had been? No. Garnet wasn’t allowed to be here, not when she would die so young and so helplessly...

"Garnet." The word came out of her mouth before she could stop it. The girl stared at her for a few moments, and then smiled. And it was Garnet’s smile, no doubt about it. Signe took a few daring steps forward – not all the way to Garnet, Light no, but close enough that she could fumble for Vincet’s hand and grab it tight. "You’re Garnet. But no, you can’t be...you’re not real!"

The girl’s face changed to a look of puzzlement. Even confused she was beautiful. Signe shook her head, disbelieving, and shifted until she was almost completely hidden behind Vincet’s back, her fingers still entwined with his. She buried her head in his shoulder, comforted by the warmth of his body. "Vincet," the Accepted mumbled, "can you see her? Is she really there? Because she shouldn’t be. She’s not real. Light, tell me she’s not real..."

Accepted Vincet
Out of Bounds
Thu Jan 15 2004 6:16:40 pm

Well, that certainly hadn’t gone as expected.

After all, he’d been standing here talking to another girl when Signe walked up. Those seemingly-benign circumstances alone should’ve resulted in a fireworks display of epic proportions. Vincet was never entirely sure why, but Signe seemed awfully possessive of him—he remembered the "Carmissan Incident" all too well. But no, this time it got even better. The girl he was speaking with was not only exceptionally pretty, but also Garnet. As in, Garnet do Jin a’Lucien Aethan’Tar, known throughout the Tower for her… carnal pursuits. Never mind that he didn’t know it was Garnet at the time, and was just being polite anyway. Smoke should’ve been pouring from Signe’s ears.

Only now, she was causing a ruckus for entirely different reasons. He’d been half-expecting her to walk up at any moment, but only in the sense being in a dream, knowing you’re in a dream, and still plodding inexorably into the same nightmare anyway. It’d still come as a surprise when she mysteriously appeared out of the ether and spoken his name, but far more surprising—and worrying—was her choice of attire. He’d seen her wearing it before, true, but that had been under special circumstances—late evening, getting out of a sickbed, indoors. Walking about in the snow with no more than a shift to guard against the chill was by far one of the most disturbing stunts she’d pulled in recent days, and he didn’t mean for scandal. She was nearly blue with cold, and the hand that took his was like ice. If this kept up, she might seriously hurt herself.

If that happens… No. Don’t even consider it.

And not until he was well and truly worried did she even mention Garnet, but hardly in the way he would’ve guessed. Signe seemed to recognize the Aethan’Tar where he hadn’t, but not in any way that made sense. "Garnet. You’re Garnet. But no, you can’t be… You’re not real!" That was so less than comforting. At least Garnet seemed as puzzled as he. And then Signe was behind him, pressing up against his body, trembling with more than the cold. "Vincet," she nearly pleaded, speaking into his shoulder, "can you see her? Is she really there? Because she shouldn’t be. She’s not real. Light, tell me she’s not real…"

"Signe, what’s—" No. Priorities. He could ask questions later, when she was safe and warm. At least this part of the Gardens had been thawed. He tried to shrug off his cloak to cover her, but she wouldn’t let go of his hand. The best he could do was share, bringing the blond girl into the warm folds as he ushered her toward a secluded bench, shielded from the cold and Garnet. Once at the stone seat, cleared of snow, he doffed the cloak to cover her with its entirety and pulled her into his lap, as if cradling her against the chill. He reached down and swung her legs up, wrapping them in the cloak as well. Light, her feet were even colder than her hands! How far through the snow had she gone barefoot?

"Is she alright?"

Only then did he realize Garnet had followed them of the beaten path to the meager alcove’s bench and was watching the proceedings with great interest. Blood rushed to Vincet’s face, but not from embarrassment. He was angry, he realized with a degree of detached attention, angry with Garnet. Not for following, but for being there in the first place. A cold bewildered Signe he could deal with, but now because of this girl, he had a cold, bewildered, and thoroughly frightened Signe on his hands… and lap. Anger materialized as a fierce scowl as his gaze swept to the fiery-haired Aethan’Tar. "Do you know each other?" he demanded, with eyes, face, and voice presenting a united, hardened front.

Wide-eyed and wordless, Garnet shook her head. She was probably telling the truth, and he shouldn’t hold her responsible for Signe’s disturbance. Light alone knew how many times he’d been on the wrong side of one of those as well. Well, if she couldn’t provide helpful answers, he had no use for her. His full attention swung back to troubled girl on his lap. "Signe?" he asked gently, tilting her head up by the chin just as gently so he could look into her eyes. "Yes, I can see her. She’s real, Signe, as real as I am. Why wouldn’t she be?" No answer, from her mouth or those depthlessly blue eyes. "Please… Talk to me."

Garnet Ayriel do Jin a’Lucien
Boundless Confusion
Fri Jan 16 2004 2:12:08 am

This really was not going the way Garnet had planned. Not only had the boy, the male Accepted named Vincet, almost turned her down, now this other girl had come along. And she was dressed in a shift, in this weather. Even Garnet, daughter of a lord, never having had to worry about what she wore, was aware that a shift in winter was not the best type of clothing. She stared in wonder at the girl, wondering if she was insane. She certainly seemed it, at least in behaviour. Had she been wearing normal clothing, she would have seemed as normal as anyone else, at least until she opened her mouth. The Aethan’Tar took another close look at this strange girl. For sure, she looked normal.

Curious, she trailed after Vincet and the odd girl, watching with benign interest as the Accepted curled his friend up in his cloak, almost wrapping himself around the blonde girl in an attempt to keep her warm. Now that was interesting - were they only friends, or was more going on? It made no real difference to Garnet, since people supposedly in love were often just as quick to leap into her bed as those who were unattached, but it was useful information to have. That way she had a fair idea of whether someone was going to be having fits of jealousy for no readily apparent reason. However, this girl didn’t look like a danger, not now.

"Is she all right?" she inquired, truly interested. It was not every day someone told you that you couldn’t be real. Garnet was intrigued. The rose that had brought her out here had been forgotten, as had the boy who had attracted her interest. Now this new girl held her attention. She wandered a little closer to inspect her. Really, the girl was quite pretty, even though she was white with cold. Blonde hair, blue eyes - if she’d seemed a little closer to sanity, Garnet might even have considered convincing her to spend a night in the Aethan’Tar barracks. She wasn’t entirely certain she wanted an insane lover, though. Perhaps that would have to wait.

And then, of course, the Accepted was angry at her. He didn’t know that she’d never seen this girl before in her life, and certainly had no idea why she’d decided Garnet wasn’t real. The Aethan’Tar shook her head in silent response, wondering what in the Light was going to happen next. What an interesting day! Once Vincet had stopped glaring at her, she wandered a little closer again in the hopes of getting a better look at the crazy girl he was holding. She’d never seen anyone insane before.

She watched in silence as Vincet spoke to the girl, Signe, imploring her to speak. There was no reaction, not for a while. Garnet wondered if maybe the girl’s mind had simply frozen with the cold. She’d never heard of such a thing happening, but there was a first time for everything. Wouldn’t it be interesting if she was the first person ever to witness it? The Aethan’Tar snuck closer again, until she was only a few inches away from the Accepted and his fragile burden. From here she’d have a much better vantage point. Even better, if the girl Signe saw her, she might talk again. Garnet was truly curious to know what she’d say next.

"She’s not real, you know," the girl said dreamily, startling both Garnet and Vincet. "I know she’s not real. Now I can see them, too, not just hear them." Garnet tilted her head to the side, like a bird, wondering what Signe was talking about now. Vincet had stiffened. Did it make any sense to him? As Garnet watched the girl, even more interested now that she was talking, those blue eyes fastened on her face again. She could hardly believe that Signe could focus on her, but something about her made the girl freeze and then try to jerk herself out of Vincet’s arms.

The Aethan’Tar leapt back as Signe’s hand swept past her face. Well! She might have been a tiny bit too close, but was violence the way to solve it? Tempting as it was to strike back, she decided not to. Signe was obviously not well. Hitting someone who was sick was not the right thing to do. She frowned, and was surprised to see Signe wince. Very slowly, the blonde girl reached out a shaking hand towards Garnet. Unable to puzzle out what else she could possibly be expected to do, Garnet carefully folded her own hand around Signe’s cold fingers.

"You’re not real, you know," the girl told her with chilling certainty. "I’m not sure anyone’s told you. But you’re not real."

"Um." Garnet thought about this for a second. "I think I am real, actually. Sorry." There didn’t seem to be any other way to put it. Very gently, she detached her hand from Signe’s and tucked the girl’s cold hand back inside Vincet’s cloak, patting the cloak and accidentally-on-purpose Vincet’s shoulder.

"What," Vincet interrupted, glaring at her again as Signe began to mutter to herself, "is going on here?" Garnet shrugged. She hadn’t a clue. It should be perfectly clear to anyone that she was real.

Signe, however, clearly did know what was happening. She gazed up at Vincet with perfect trust. "She was my Warder," she said clearly. "In my Arches. She died." Swapping focus to Garnet, she frowned. A tiny wrinkle appeared on her forehead. Garnet frowned back at her, completely confused. She’d never been anyone’s Warder, let alone this crazy girl’s, and she most certainly wasn’t dead. "You’re dead," Signe informed her. "And you’re not real, either."

With the words, she seemed to have somehow turned Garnet off. The Aethan’Tar stared open-mouthed at the blonde girl, who was no longer paying her the slightest bit of attention. It really was as if she’d disappeared. She almost wanted to shake Vincet and demand to know if he could see her, but he was completely focussed on Signe, who had not yet finished making demands. "I’m cold," Signe said softly. "I want to go somewhere warm."

"I’m coming with you," Garnet said with no small amount of determination. She would find out what was happening here. Vincet glared at her again, and this time she glared back. He wasn’t going to stop her. This was interesting.

Vincet
Time Out
Tue Jan 20 2004 11:03:13 am

It was an instant he wished could have lasted forever. For that one moment, with Signe nestled in his arms and gazing up at him without a trace of anger, annoyance, or distrust, Vincet almost knew what paradise was like. But as always, his feelings weren’t important. Helping Signe was what mattered, and that took precedence over any fleeting glimpses of perfect happiness he was imagining. Besides, the illusion crumbled before the onslaught of her next words.

"She was my Warder. In my Arches. She died."

Light… It made terrible sense. Already unbalanced by her "phantoms" dragging her out into the snow, only to meet a revenant waiting for her. A real specter, someone you’d been praying wasn’t real ever since the Amyrlin Seat emptied the chalice over you. To actually encounter someone from whatever hell those Arches sent you… What could that do to a person? Dash. Oh yes, he could imagine all too well.

"I’m cold," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I want to go somewhere warm." Right. Walking figments could be dealt with at another time. At the moment, Signe needed someone who knew about frostbite and the touch of winter better than a southerner, and that meant going to the Infirmary. She wouldn’t be happy if her took her there again, not in the slightest, but he’d cross that bridge when they came to it. She was in no position to resist, anyway, and if it earned him a tongue-lashing from her later it could only mean that she was getting back to her old, acerbic self.

He stood effortlessly, still cradling the bundled Accepted in his arms, and was about to start off for the Infirmary when Garnet spoke. She’d been here all this time, hadn’t she? Odd; he’d scarcely noticed. "I’m coming with you," she said in one of those tones which brooked no argument that women seemed so adept at taking. By the way she was matching him glare for glare, it seemed she was serious about it, too. Going on what little he knew of her, it was hard to imagine Garnet being serious about anything, but here she was. Well, so be it. Signe seemed to have embraced the belief that Garnet wasn’t there, and there wasn’t much Vincet could do about her following right now anyway.

So with a shrug of acquiescence, he turned his back on her and started out of the Gardens and toward the Tower, not bothering to see if she was making good on her resolution. Stepping out of the thawed area without his cloak felt like diving into glacial runoff, but Signe needed it more than he. How did she get so far in so little? Surely someone would’ve… No. No, I suppose not. The al’Tammases were somewhat famous for their oddities, and not many people would dare to get caught up in something that might bring only trouble. Well, damn them. If it was that hard to act with a little human decency, Light alone knew what nonsense someone like that would’ve tried if they had done anything. He met curious glances with stony ones of his own—stony more in the sense of molten lava than impassive granite.

Luckily, this part of the Gardens stood near the Training Yards and therefore, by necessity, near the Infirmary. Signe was hardly a burden, so he set a quick pace marked by the crunch of snow underfoot and the slightly out-of-sync footfalls from behind. It seemed Garnet was tagging along after all. Well, fine, as long as she didn’t do something else to upset Signe. Speaking of which… She’d started squirming a little in his arms and muttering under her breath, obviously recognizing where they were headed. "Be still," he murmured, "unless you want me to drop you. You said you wanted to go someplace warm, and it’s always warm in the Infirmary, right? Besides, you’ve got icicles doubling as fingers and toes, and Etheri Sedai should take a look at that. You’re not afraid of her, are you?"

That line of conversation brought a fresh unintelligible grumble, but by that time they were back inside the Tower and nearly at the doors to the Infirmary. Garnet finally made herself useful by holding one open as he carried Signe inside. They were met almost immediately by Etheri, directing Vincet to a cot he could set Signe down upon. The seemingly-frail Yellow had seen all sorts of ailments in a tenure here that must’ve stretched since Hawkwing’s Siege, and she was already used to Vincet showing up with an unwilling Signe in tow. "She was walking out in the Gardens, in the snow," he said in answer to the Aes Sedai’s question. "I don’t know for how long. I—we," he corrected, nodding towards Garnet, "got her here as quickly as possible."

His role as ambulance and reporter now over, Etheri shooed him away from the cot and set to unwrapping Signe from the bundle of his cloak. Knowing what lay beneath—or rather, what didn’t—he pointedly turned his back on the proceedings, an action that brought him face to face with Garnet once again. She certainly didn’t seem to care that the prone Accepted was in a state of undress, but then, she was a woman. Still… Nah… That’s ridiculous.

"Listen," he said, bringing the Aethan’Tar’s blue eyes around—reluctantly?—to meet his green. "About what Signe said before… The Arches." How to explain this without saying too much? "It’s something we go through to become Accepted. You see things, things that you don’t know are real or not." That little admission in itself bordered on too much, but it was sufficient. Garnet seemed to be following. "Signe must have seen you, and she’s already… She’s not sick, but she’s not well, you see?" Oh yes, that was as clear as crystal. He put a hand on her shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. "What I’m trying to say is, if you’re upset, I’m sure we can talk to Signe once Etheri Sedai is through and prove to her you’re as real as you say you are."

Signe
Out Of Your Mind
Sat Jan 24 2004 4:49:24 pm

"I can hear you," Signe said acerbically. Etheri frowned at her, but the Accepted just glared back. Then, feeling sulky, she rolled onto her side and pulled the covers up to her ears. She didn’t want to remember how gently Vincet had touched Garnet, the way the girl’s head tilted up so innocently to see him. Yes, so she wasn’t real – obviously she couldn’t be real – and yes, Signe had missed her so badly when she was gone, but now she was beginning to remember what Garnet had been like. In the Arches she had wished that Garnet and Vincet could have met each other, but now she wasn’t so sure. Garnet had been a flipskirt – there really was no other way to put it. Vincet was not someone she wanted consorting with flipskirts.

Besides, it seemed that this version of Garnet really was very much like the other one. Signe would not have said she was biased about such things, but the last Garnet she’d met had found girls just as attractive as boys. This Garnet had been looking her up and down in a very suggestive manner. Signe wasn’t sure that she was at all pleased by that. In fact, she thought she hated it. Possibly she even hated it more than she hated the way Garnet looked at Vincet. Certainly, nothing could be as loathsome as how gentle Vincet’s voice was when he spoke to the Aethan’Tar.

"Signe, lie on your back," Etheri told her. Signe hunched her shoulders up and glared at the wall, seriously considering telling the Aes Sedai to take a flying leap into Shayol Ghul. Sanity prevailed – unfortunately, in the form of Fionn, who was hissing frantically in her ear about what dreadful things would happen if she told Etheri Sedai, of all people, to do anything of the sort. Fionn was right. Fionn was always right. Signe heaved a very put-upon sigh and rolled onto her back, blue eyes focused on the ceiling. She was not going to look over and see what the flipskirt was doing to Vincet now.

Amadeus had other ideas. He, like Fionn, had been flickering in and out of existence with Vincet so close, but now he gathered the strength to shove her head sideways. Unprepared for the movement, Signe managed to catch sight of Garnet sliding her arm around Vincet’s waist before her eyes snapped back to the ceiling again. To her helpless fury, blood rushed to her cheeks. Etheri glanced from her to the two standing nearby, and tutted. "Accepted, please," she said to Vincet. Signe grinned. Now who was misbehaving?

Her delight didn’t last long, of course. The ancient Yellow sister wanted to prod and poke her and try out what felt noticeably like experimental weaves. Throughout the entire undignified process, Vincet and Garnet hovered nearby. Signe would have glared, but that would have meant looking at them, and she wasn’t going to do that. No matter what. The Aes Sedai patted her shoulder gently. "There, dear. You should probably stay here for a little while, but if you really want to go, you can," she said gently. Signe gave her a weak smile, then turned onto her side again so that she was facing away from Vincet and Garnet.

She heard a flurry of whispering, and then soft footsteps made their way around the bed. A pretty face crowned with a halo of fiery curls appeared in her field of vision. Signe bit her lip and looked away. This girl really was Garnet, she was sure of it, and she was even surer that she didn’t want to learn to love her again. If Garnet was real, then the Arches were real, and that meant that Garnet would die. But maybe, just maybe, if Signe didn’t Bond her, the girl would live. She could hope for that, at least.

"Look, um, Signe," Garnet said timidly, bringing the Accepted’s gaze back up to hers. "I don’t know what you saw, but...it wasn’t me. I’m here, I’m real." Such innocence in her gaze, such certainty in those blue eyes. Signe watched her in silence, suddenly feeling much older than she was. She remembered feeling this girl, this child, die. For she had died, and she would again, and all Signe could do was try her best to avoid creating the chain of events that would lead to her death.

"You’re dead," she told the Aethan’Tar solemnly. "I’m sorry, but you are. Vincet!" He’d been standing on the other side of her, and now rested his hand on her shoulder as if to let her know he hadn’t left. Signe sat herself up, turning around so she could look at him. "Vincet, get me out of here," she asked, almost commanding, desperate to get away from the girl who couldn’t possibly exist.

Vincet
Patience: The Overrated Virtue
Sat Feb 7 2004 11:55:03 am

"Vincet, get me out of here," she demanded, without even so much as a please. After all this, after all he’d done, the most he warranted was an order with enough snap to do a lizard-lion proud! And right in front of the whole bloody Infirmary, no less! Well, most of the cots were empty, true, and the handful of patients were sleeping or reading and not paying any attention at all, and Etheri was the only Aes Sedai on hand and had already turned her concentration to some other chore, but… but… Well, Garnet was standing right there, anyway. Right bloody there! He should know, too, with her standing as close as she was. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was actually trying to press up against him all the time. Surely Etheri Sedai had really seen that it was the Aethan’Tar’s arm around his waist, not his around hers!

Suddenly that clear voice of logic possessed by most cognizant individuals broke through the downpour of righteous indignation with a two-pronged attack. The first prong calmly informed the rest of his interior monologue that it was rambling at what could be called a breakneck pace, at the very least. That was not a good sign, he knew, when disparate elements inside one’s head began correcting each other’s excesses. The next step would be using multiple punctuation marks when he wrote, followed closely thereafter by singing bawdy tavern songs in the High Chant during mealtimes and giving the dust bunnies under his bed individual names based on the reverse chronological order of the False Dragons.

After a moment, the first prong gently reiterated its stunningly valid point and he quieted the tumult enough to listen for the second. That one reminded him, just as gently, that he had not replied to Signe’s "request" in any manner other than an increasingly blank stare, so devoid of any shreds of comprehension that both she and Garnet were frowning at him worriedly. At least, he hoped it was worry creasing their brows, because the only other emotion with a similar response was anger, and he must be in pretty deep trouble if he’d done something to get them both mad at him at the same time. Of course, if his stupidity was enough to unite those two in a common cause, it might mean he had a future in the Grey Ajah after all.

First, though, he needed to prove to the two women before him that he had in fact not entered a vegetative state. "Of course!!!" he answered brightly, with an equally megawatt smile, exactly as if he had not spent the last minute or so engaged in an internal roundtable discussion. Charm. Yes, that was the best tactic in this situation. Sometimes the smile bought him time. "Do you think you’re well enough to walk, or would you like me to carry you back to your quarters?" His glare must have somehow increased in potency, because when he swung it towards Garnet she quickly closed her mouth again without speaking. Well, charm and a murderous stare. At least it was a potent combination. "I meant Signe, not you. And Signe, I’m sorry. Yes, of course you’re well enough to walk. I didn’t mean to doubt you."

Blitzkrieg. Lightning war. The trick was to hit hard, fast, and in such rapid succession that the enemy had no chance to mount a counter-offensive. By all accounts, this tactic had served generals in good stead over the centuries, and now it seemed to translate very well from the art of war into the art of conversation. Both women were gaping at him now like fingerlings lying on a dock. The really amazing thing was that each managed to maintain their individual level of prettiness despite the unobstructed view of their uvulas they were presenting. Even those were cute. Well, at this point he had to ride the wave in all the way to shore or risk swamping. He couldn’t let up.

"C’mon, then," he said, keeping the charming smile frozen on his face. All that practice was bound to pay off sooner or later, and apparently now was the time. "Signe, don’t tell me you can’t even get up off that cot without help, or I really will carry you back to your room." Another good shot. He’d figured that threat would be enough to get Signe moving at least a little faster, but not so quickly that she threw off the covers and nearly leapt out of bed. She was glaring at him now, her lovely face tilted up at him in the all-too-familiar thunderhead configuration. All prior thoughts of modesty must have left her, at least until he made a point of glancing down at her attire. The progress of her realization was marked by the slow rosy color that spread across her face, but she made no move to cover herself beyond folding her arms beneath her breasts. He really couldn’t say he minded.

The stalemate couldn’t last, though, and he had no problem being the first to concede. Letting his smile slide a shade toward the indulgent, he reached down to gather his cloak and demurely draped it over her shoulders again. "Can’t have you walking around the Tower like that, now can we? Who knows who might see you?" Vincet wasn’t sure, but it seemed like her blue eyes flicked momentarily toward Garnet before locking back on him. He’d have to figure that out later, once the Aethan’Tar was gone. And speaking of which…

"Garnet, I’m sorry we met under such circumstances, but thank you for helping me bring Signe this far." Any Aes Sedai would be proud of that statement. It said exactly what he meant, but not all of it. "You must have other things to attend to, so please don’t trouble yourself with us any further. Perhaps we’ll see each other sometime later." With that, and the smile still carved into his face, Vincet took Signe’s arm and ushered her past the wondering Aethan’Tar into the hallway. The instant the Infirmary doors closed behind them, momentarily shuttering Garnet in with Etheri and her patients, his smile evaporated. Nymphomaniac or not, Garnet didn’t deserve to be treated like that. First Signe’s inexcusably bizarre behavior, and now he brushed her off like dried mud from the hem of his breeches. He’d have to find her later and quietly apologize for such behavior, but that was a problem to be solved another time. Correcting a discourtesy could wait; for now, there were more ties binding him to Signe.

"Not that way," he said, more roughly than he intended, when she tried to start off down the corridor toward her room and was held up by his hand on her arm. "You’re coming with me." Keeping a firm grip on her arm and silently fuming, he led her in the opposite direction along the corridor toward his room. This was starting to grow tiresome. He didn’t mind the increasingly frequent requests from Briar Rose Sedai to retrieve her wandering cousin, or even the stares that followed in his wake while he shepherded Signe back to someplace safe. The greater issue came when he was forced to be rude to someone just because Signe was convinced that person was some type of ghostly figment, compounding with the greatest issue of all—she wasn’t telling him what was wrong. Was it a game to her, a ploy to keep him near, or something drastically wrong? He wasn’t sure anymore, but he meant to find out. Now. He pulled her along, listening to the padding of her bare feet on the corridor floor. "We need to talk."

Garnet
Lust: The Underrated Sin
Sun Feb 8 2004 1:36:19 pm

The Aethan’Tar kept opening and shutting her mouth as Vincet seemed to stop speaking, then launched into another surge of words. She was starting to think it might be simpler just to find a spare rag to gag him with, followed - presumably - by tying his hands up and dragging him off, but he might not be awfully pleased by that. He seemed attached to the other Accepted, the girl who was still trying to tell Garnet she didn’t exist. This was not pleasing the young trainee very much at all. It should be obvious to anyone that she existed, and if Signe said otherwise just one more time she was going to prove it.

Despite the fact that Vincet had paused again, Garnet was too intrigued by her thought to interrupt him. Now, how would she prove she was real? The best thing she could think of - which was the first thing she could think of, since her attention span wasn’t exactly what could be called long - was simply to kiss Signe, rather thoroughly. The advantages of that solution seemed to be that it would startle Signe enough to make her be quiet for at least a little while, and Vincet might like watching enough that he’d acquiesce to any suggestions Garnet would then make. As an added bonus, if Signe liked it, Garnet would have an unrivalled opportunity to find out whether two people were, as she’d been told, better than one.

Disadvantages seemed rather scarce. In fact, she couldn’t think of any. The Aethan’Tar smiled brightly at Signe, who had glanced her way as if to see whether she had noticed that Vincet was rattling off completely useless information. For example, she thought she’d just heard him say something about her having other things to do. Well, probably she did, but they wouldn’t be anything like as fun as this. It wasn’t every day you got to see an Accepted in her shift, and even if Signe didn’t have a particularly feminine build she was still pretty enough. Besides, Garnet had never been awfully good with hints. Or demands, for that matter. She did what she wanted to - always had, and always would.

Therefore, even when the Accepted closed the door before she could follow him, Garnet’s smile didn’t waver. She simply opened the door again and trotted after them down the hallway, just close enough to hear Signe’s obstinate refusals to say anything useful. No matter what question or statement Vincet levelled at her, the female Accepted wasn’t speaking a word. This fascinated Garnet. Vincet spoke, and Signe did not. Previously it had been the other way around. Maybe they were connected somehow - she didn’t think they were twins, or even brother and sister, but it was possible - so that they only ever spoke one at a time. Aaden and Ketria hadn’t done that, but they had often finished each other’s sentences, and this was surely just an extension of that?

She nearly lost the pair of Accepted when they rounded a sudden corner, but the sound of Vincet’s voice and the soft step of Signe’s bare feet drew her in the right direction. Garnet sped up just enough that she could see clearly enough whenever they changed direction, but not so much that Vincet would notice she was there. He seemed far more worried about Signe, though; the girl was muttering to herself and almost collapsing in on herself. It was as if she was trying to shrink, something Garnet had not ever seen before and noted with enthusiastic and curious interest.

Before now, she’d never been this deep into the White Tower - the Accepted she had successfully seduced had invariably come to her room, instead of she to theirs. The young trainee’s attention wandered for long enough to ascertain that the scenery hadn’t exactly changed much. It was all still white, and while she liked white - she liked all colours - there was such a thing as too much white. Compared to the corridors around her, Signe and Vincet were unbearably fascinating. She watched the way they moved together, the way Signe leaned towards the man accompanying her and how Vincet was always there to catch Signe when she swayed.

How they ever remembered where their rooms were, Garnet didn’t know. It all looked the same to her, and she wasn’t sure she could find her way out again. But that didn’t matter; there were always people willing to help out, if you knew how to ask them. Besides, she was happy where she was for now. Signe and Vincet had stopped at a room just ahead, and the young man was opening the door. Garnet sped up and slipped inside before he could manage to close the door, making herself immediately useful by taking Signe’s arm and leading her towards the bed. Now that was something she’d done plenty of times before.

Although obviously surprised, the girl didn’t protest, and so Garnet managed to get her into her own bed before Vincet could even shut the door. She sat down on the bed with Signe, and smiled up at Vincet, who was starting to look strangely as if a particularly small thundercloud had made its home just over his head. Garnet patted Signe’s thigh and turned to give her, too, a brilliant smile. The Accepted’s forehead crinkled with puzzlement. Garnet decided she’d do better lying down, and crawled up the bed so that she could push Signe down and then flop down next to her.

"Vincet," the Accepted said through clenched teeth, "what is she doing?" Ah, now that was much better. Signe might not be speaking to her, but at least she’d accepted her existence. Garnet beamed and, to reward the Accepted, planted a kiss on her cheek. She could feel Signe’s body stiffen next to hers, and reached up to stroke the girl’s soft blonde hair reassuringly.

"It’s okay, Vincet," she said quietly. "I won’t hurt her. Maybe she’d feel safer if you came here too?"

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