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The Price of Privilege
by Ramonay Solace, Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah.

At last alone in her new quarters, Rams finally said those words out loud. Her voice startled her in the echoing silence of her rooms. Her rooms. She felt strangely calm. Detachedly, she thought that the enormity of the honor and responsibility that had just been bestowed upon her simply hadn't registered yet. Her mind simply wasn't capable, in her current tired and slightly overwhelmed state, of wrapping it's self around the huge change that had just occurred in her life. Just yesterday she'd been Accepted, comfortable in her banded dress and the daily routine of studies and classes that had become her life. Upon first coming to the tower, nearly six years before (Light, had it been six years?!), she'd thought that the time would never pass. It had been one of the most difficult things she'd ever done, forcing her unruly mind into the discipline required and schooling her lazy procrastinating tendencies into some semblance of productiveness. Not to mention learning to bow to the authority all around her. She was accustomed to being told what to do. However, she was also accustomed largely to doing as she pleased, despite, and shrugging and accepting whatever consequences her waywardness earned her. Ramonay's hand strayed unconsciously to the braid of hair coiled and pinned on the back of her head. It had taken five years to grow it back to some semblance of femininity after the incident as a novice when she'd been (disobediently) experimenting with her strength in fire and it had been singed. It had always been her opinion that Jendaia Sedai hadn't had to cut that much off of it. But it had no doubt served her right. There were reasons for the rules, even the ones that seemed stupid and irrelevant to ignorant young girls. Often that reason was the novice's own safety. Oh yes, one of the first things she'd learned at the Tower was that the Aes Sedai would be obeyed, to the letter of every command. There was no bending, ignoring, or forgetting of the rules. To ensure this, the consequences were always tenfold the gravity of the rule that had been broken. Ramonay was stubborn, but she was not stupid. It had become quite obvious to her early on that the occasional bend of the rules or slip of the tongue wasn't worth the trouble that came thundering after it like an armed cavalry charge. She'd spent her first four months in Tar Valon in an agony of homesickness, pacing the tower gardens for hours alone when she should have been studying and haunting the stables like a wraith. When she'd come to the tower, she'd never been away from her home and family before. Some days the only thing that kept her from picking up and heading right back home, despite the rules, was her pride. She'd gone against the wishes of her loved ones, coming to Tar Valon. She was determined that she would not go running back to them like a lost puppy, proving them right. In the end, stubbornness won out over childlike longing, and before long she found that she was slipping into the routine of study and work, and the days were flying by. Because of her strength, she'd been raised to Accepted after only nine months as a novice. To her dying day she would be haunted by the memory of the gauntlet of emotions she'd run inside of the three-arched ter'angreal. It had been pure bravado, spurred by pride and determination, that had compelled her to stride forward and through that first arch. After it was over, and she was reduced to a grief stricken child, naked and uncaring under the stream of cold water, she knew that no amount of fear of humiliation or scorn could ever force her to walk that path again. On that day she knew the meaning of bravery, and that she was a long way from the embodiment of that word. It had not been bravery that had propelled her feet forward and over the threshold of the ter'angreal. It would take more bravery than she could muster to make her do it again. Thank the Light it was over, and the Accepted's ring was bestowed upon her, with the right to wear it with pride. The next five years had passed by in a whirlwind. Sometimes she'd thought that she would never be able to learn enough, practice enough, or experience enough to ready her for the responsibility of being Aes Sedai. Sometimes she still thought that way. But it was not her place to be the judge of that. Apparently the Amyrlin thought her worthy. And she knew that the Mother knew more than she could learn in twenty years of study. At least, she hoped to the Light that she did. Some nights, as Accepted, Rams had lain sleepless in her bed and wondered if the girl she'd been had been lost, replaced by this creature of duty that she'd become. The constant working - all towards one seemingly far distant goal - had slowly but surely consumed her. Sometimes she did not know if what she was doing was right, if she was wasting her chance at a real home and happiness on a girlhood whim. She'd had her doubts, she'd wondered time and again if this was what she really wanted, or if it had simply become what she did. All her life she'd yearned for something, something more. Even when she was otherwise content, it had seemed as if something were missing, as if there was a void in her that needed filling. She'd thought to find that missing puzzle piece in Tar Valon, in the Tower. She had found purpose. She'd found a goal. But doubt had crept in, time and again, as it will with all young people who have taken their fate into their own hands. Always these sleepless nights of pondering had left her at the same conclusion. She wanted to be Aes Sedai. It was what she was meant to be, obviously. It was what the pattern had intended. Otherwise she would not have been born with the ability and strength to grasp the power and send it pulsing through her like lifeblood. And for the title of Aes Sedai to have any meaning, as with anything in life that was worth something, there must be sacrifices. Sacrifices of blood, sweat, and tears. Sacrifices of other dreams and other hopes. Sacrifices of childish misconceptions and a young girl's passions. Yet now, with the scent of a clean and empty room tickling her nose like an invitation, Ramonay thought that perhaps she had not lost so much of her girlhood self. Perhaps it was still there, the wonder and the passion for life, somewhere deep inside of her. Sleeping. Waiting for the time when she was ready to reclaim it and make it once again her own. She'd reached her goal. Yet she did not feel suddenly rudderless. She'd broken through the wall of routine created by constant striving to reach the heights. She was standing now on the mountaintop, looking down on the world, and it was hers to explore. She had sacrificed six years of her life for this. Now she had the ability, the authority, and most importantly, the time to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Ramonay realized that she was still standing in the middle of her receiving room. It was cool, with grey stone floors and the the hearth bare.With a weary sigh, Rams crossed the small antechamber and opened the door to her new bedroom. It was spacious and clean, with soft deep green carpeting, woven with pale green leaves and violet pansies, and a balcony outside the violet draped floor length window. Both of her rooms were upholstered and carpeted in shades of green and purple, her two favorite colors, and paneled and furnished in pale wood. The bedroom had no fireplace. On the cold nights of winter, she would have to leave the door of her antechamber open. The bed looked cozy enough though. It was a wide four poster, piled with down comforters and pillows. The rooms really were beautifully suited to her, just as though whoever furnished them had had her specifically in mind. Ramonay wondered if Jendaia had had anything to do with that. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw a sturdy crockery vase full of lilacs, her favorite flower, on the bedside table. Only an Aes Sedai could have gained access to these rooms to place them there, or a Novice or Accepted under the orders of an Aes Sedai. Ramonay crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. The soft mattress gave beneath her, inviting her to lay back into it's embrace. Wearily she kicked off her shoes and peeled her stockings down, uncharacteristically leaving them lay in the middle of the floor. With a few quick motions she pulled the pins from the coil of hair at the back of her head, letting the braid fall free to the middle of her back, then unraveling it until her soft, fine hair fell in waved tawny tresses about her shoulders, still a little damp and fragrant from being washed that morning. The dress she was wearing belonged to one of the other Greens, and had been donated for her cause until she could make use of the gold given her for the purpose of clothing herself as befitted her new status. It was expensive, made of rich brocaded fabric, but a bit loose at the waist and bodice. Her tired fingers fumbled at the laces for a moment, and she cursed quietly, before she managed to get it undone and shrug out of it. Every inch of her body felt limp and exhausted. She was drained, mentally and emotionally, from the ordeal of her testing and raising earlier in the day. Finally freed of confining clothing, she stumbled to her feet in her shift to cross to the window and close the drapes, completely forgetting that she could easily have used the power for that purpose. On her way back to the bed she caught one bare foot in the folds of the brocade gown and tripped, landing face first with a muffled profanity, half on and half off of the bed. Numbly, she clambered the rest of the way onto her bed, burrowed under the soft comforters and sank immediately into the welcoming arms of sleep. "The first time is for what was." Ramonay hesitated at the mouth of the arch, disoriented. She recognized that voice. Glancing down at herself, Ramonay saw that she was naked, her bare toes just an inch from crossing over into the ter'angreal. She shook her head. This was not right. She shouldn't be doing this. Something was not right. She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly terror overtook her, and she was stricken mute. Frantic, she tried to force words past the constriction in her throat. Her lips moved, yet she made no sound. That oddly familiar voice sounded again, harsh and unyielding behind her. "The way back will come but once. Be steadfast." Ramonay's arms were stretched out, stiff and trembling with strain, her hands braced against the ter'angreal, holding herself away from the arch. Looking at her hands white knuckled against the smooth matter of the arch, she saw that her Great Serpent Ring was already firmly in place on her finger. It was cutting into her flesh, standing out off of the back of her finger as she pressed her hands against the arch. Still struggling for words, she tried to turn her head back over her shoulder, to tell them that there had been a misunderstanding. She had already done this! She had faced her fears, she had passed the test, she had been Accepted amongst the Aes Sedai! But she could not move her head. As if bound by air, she was frozen facing forward, trembling in the glow of the ter'angreal like a baby fox in the beam of a flusher's lantern. She could not speak, could not even force breath past the panic that was suffocating her. Suddenly, there were hard hands on her back, pushing her. With all of her strength Ramonay strained against the push, fought to hold herself back, away from the mouth of the arch. Gasping for air, she managed to sob out two words. "I...can't!" But even as she spoke them, she was falling, tumbling into the searing light. "I can't!" Ramonay protested tearfully, eyes downcast to avoid the shame of having to see the disappointment in her companions' eyes. Swallowing painfully, she sniffled and tangled her fingers in her white skirts, gripping white knuckled and wrinkling the fabric. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry everyone. I just can't. I can't fight...I don't have the experience. I don't have the training. I'm not ready. You'd be putting my life into my hands. I might have to protect one of you. I can't do that." Fighting to gain control of herself, she looked up into Jendaia's eyes, searching for understanding. The Green sister turned away from her, back stiff and unyielding. "Very well, Ramonay. I won't force you if you do not feel ready. Selante and I shall have to do what we can without you." Ramonay stifled a gasping little sob and sagged, shoulders shaking. She had disappointed Jen. She had let everyone down. She was letting Rillian down. And all because she was afraid. She was a coward. Jendaia Sedai was her mentor, her friend. She'd felt that Ramonay was ready. If she wasn't now, after spending years in practice, would she ever be? The truth shamed her more than her tears. She would never be ready because she was a coward. She was afraid. That was the simple truth of it. She was afraid to go into danger, to brave the darkfriends, get Jen's warder back from their clutches and clear his name. She was afraid for her own life. Rams had always considered herself a good loyal friend. She'd always thought that were one of her friends in danger, she would always give anything she could to help them. Now, faced with the reality of it, she knew that there was nothing so noble in her heart. She was selfish and cowardly. All of her lofty hopes for herself and ideals about her own character were destroyed in the realization that she was not strong enough. Not good enough. Not strong enough to be Aes Sedai, certainly not good enough to stand in this room amongst these brave people. She could not look at Selante. Her fellow Accepted stood calmly, waiting for Jen's orders, face smooth and resolute, while Ramonay blubbered and cowered like a child. The others were readying themselves to leave. Rams did not know what to do. She wanted to run back to her room, throw herself down on the bed, and sob untill she had no more tears. But she had not been dismissed. Perhaps she was good for nothing else, but she did know the rules. An Accepted did not leave the presence of an Aes Sedai without permission. Absorbed in her misery, she did not see Aan'allein approach until his hand was resting gently on her shoulder. She stiffened under his touch, and he immediately removed his hand. As soon as it was gone, she was sorry. It had been a comfort, the human contact. She did not know how he could stand to touch her. She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes and tried and failed to meet his disconcerting golden gaze. She was a coward. "It's alright, Rams." He spoke softly, his words for her ears only. "You don't need to be ashamed. In a way, it's good that you're not ready to kill. One should never be too eager for blood. It's foolhardy. If you do not feel ready, it is best that you do not go with us. One must never into battle unprepared. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you." Ramonay felt her heart wither up and die within her. She'd always admired the wolfbrother, with his resolute air and quiet, comforting presence. His pity was too much for her to bear. With a sob, she whirled and ran, stumbling, for the door. "Ramonay!" Jendaia's shout stopped her in her tracks like a well trained hunting dog. If she was nothing else, she was well trained. Slowly, she turned back to face the Aes Sedai. There, in the middle of the room, was an arched gateway. Jendaia gestured toward it. "The way back will come but once." As Ramonay watched, the Aes Sedai stepped through the gateway, followed by Selante. Aan'allein crossed the room, and hesitating at the gateway, turned back and held out his hand to her. Ramonay flinched away from that piercing golden gaze. In an agony of shame and self pity, she backed away from him, pushing the door open behind her and fleeing the room. Gasping and choking on tears, Ramonay stumbled from the ter'angreal and fell to her knees. She was trembling uncontrollably. Vainly, she tried to clasp her arms about herself and stop the shaking, cover her nakedness. Her soul felt flayed, exposed. All of her hidden weaknesses and self doubts torn from their safe darkness and lain writhing and bare beneath the harsh, blinding light of truth. Slowly, awareness returned, and she realized that she was kneeling on the bare, rough stone floor of the chamber that housed the ter'angreal. How had she gotten back? She had failed. She had run from her chance when it was given. She had not been strong enough. She had not wanted to be Aes Sedai enough. Yet somehow, by some amazing stroke of luck, she had found her way out of the ter'angreal. Slowly, her sobs subsided and she looked around guiltily for the Aes Sedai who must be observing her weakness. To her astonishment, there was no one there. Scrambling to her feet, she whirled to peer suspiciously into the corners of the room. It was empty. She was alone with the three arched ter'angreal. There were no Aes Sedai attending. No one was channeling into the ter'angreal, yet it was humming and glowing with life. Was it possible that no one had seen? That no one knew of her failure? Suddenly, Rams' spine stiffened with resolve. She had failed once, but no one knew that. No one had to know that, ever. She would make up for it. She would go back into the ter'angreal. She would make things right. She would not fail! Gathering herself, she walked around the circle of arches and approached the second one. She felt her knees go weak with fear. "The second time is for what is," she murmured to herself. "The way back will come but once. Be steadfast, Ramonay. Be steadfast." Gritting her teeth resolutely, she closed her eyes and threw herself through the arch. The pain in her head was unbearable, like a giant vice tightening on her temples. Blinking, Ramonay tried to focus on the child laid out before her, pale save for an unhealthy spot of fever color on either cheek. Softly, from across the room, came the sound of a woman's weeping. "Please, Aes Sedai. Please, you have to help her. She's only six namedays old Aes Sedai. She's so ill....so ill...." The woman's voice trailed off again into soft, hiccoughing sobs. Frowning, Ramonay tried to concentrate. The girl's little chest rose and fell in erratic, fluttery movements. Her breathing was shallow, barely audible, and her skin was burning to the touch. The child's head jerked on the end of her thin neck, and her eyes fluttered open, painfully slowly. With huge brown eyes glazed by pain, she regarded Ramonay. Her dry lips parted, and she spoke to her mother in a strained, fever ravaged voice, never taking her eyes from Rams'. "Don't cry, Mum. It's alright now. The Aes Sedai will help me. Aes Sedai can do anything." Almost as if she could see the guilt in Ramonay's eyes, one of her hot, skeletally thin hands lifted weakly from the bed and floated down to rest on Ramonay's. "You can, can't you Aes Sedai? Tell my Mum that you can do it, so that she doesn't cry anymore." Feeling as if the child had just stabbed her in the heart, Ramonay bowed her head, looking away from those trusting doe eyes. With trembling fingers she took the little girl's hand in hers and pressed it lightly. The bones were so fragile, like the heartbeat. Frail and light as a bird's. "I shall try, Love. I shall try with all of my might." Gently, she laid the delicate hand back down on the coverlet and placed her palms on the girl's sweat matted hair. Closing her eyes, she opened herself to the power and felt it immediately flow into her, as sweet and warm as sunlight, soothing as summer rain. Swiftly she wove fire and spirit. More carefully, she added air. Then, for what seemed like the fiftieth time, she reached for water to complete the weave. It was like grasping at the wind. Just when she thought she had it there, within her reach, she'd try to pull it back and find herself emptyhanded. When she strained herself to the limit of her ability, until she felt as though her head might explode from the force of her effort, she was able to retrieve a trickle. It was not enough. It was like one raindrop falling on the lips of a man dying of thirst. All it did was make her pathetically aware of how much she needed more. The little girl's breathing was little more than tiny, almost inaudible hissing sounds. Her skin was burning the palms of Ramonay's hands, even through her hair. The mother was silent now, balancing motionless on a fragile wire of hope. Shaking her head to clear it, Ramonay blinked and started to rub her hand over her eyes. Then her head snapped up, hand freezing in midair. There, before her, on the other side of the bed, was an arched gateway. As Ramonay stared in consternation and growing dread, the Amyrlin stepped from the gateway, her seven striped stole draped over her shoulders, and beckoned. "The way back will come but once, Ramonay Sedai. Be steadfast." Ramonay looked from the Amyrlin to the sick child helplessly. "Mother, please...can you help her? I - I can't heal her, mother. I haven't the strength needed in water. Please Mother, it will take only a moment. Please help her." "The way back will come but once." Adamantly, Rams shook her head. "Please Mother, she's dying. It'll only take you a moment. Just a moment, Mother....please, she's so young..." A look of disappointment flitted over the Amyrlin's smooth face. She glanced back over her shoulder, into the gateway, then beckoned once more, urgently. In an agony of indecision, Ramonay hesitated. Then she removed her hand from the child's head and took a step back from the bed. Regretfully, her eyes filling with tears, she turned to skirt the bed and join the Amyrlin. But as she passed the girl, one of those dry, hot little hands shot out and fastened on hers with surprising strength. Startled, Ramonay looked down at the child. She hadn't thought her still conscious. But the brown eyes were wide open, and staring at her with clear understanding and the beginnings of betrayal. That pathetic voice sounded once again, scratching out of a parched throat. "Don't leave me! Don't leave me, Aes Sedai. You promised. You promised!" Ramonay's heart shattered. Swallowing a sob, she dropped to her knees by the bed and pressed her cheek to the child's flaming face. "I won't leave you." Looking up, she shook her head sadly at the Amyrlin. "I am sorry Mother. I have to try. I can't just let her die." The Amyrlin nodded once, sharply. Then, turning, she stepped through the gateway. It closed behind her and vanished. Ramonay bit her lip and forced herself to tear her eyes from the bare wall where her chance had been only moments before. Instead, she looked at the child whose bed she knelt beside. Her eyelids had fluttered shut, and a narrow line of white showed between the bottom and top lashes. Rams could not even see her chest rise and fall. Feeling her heart jump into her throat, she pressed her ear to the painfully thin chest, holding her breath. She could just barely hear the faint whisper of a heartbeat, uncertain and weak. Resolved to make her sacrifice mean something, Ramonay gripped the child's head in her hands and sorted the skeins of the power quickly. With determination she let more fill her, straining, reaching, hoping for just a bit more water. The sound of her heart pounding drowned out the mother's frantic questions. Her blood rushed in her head. Her hands trembled as the power filled her, more than she'd ever held before, sweeping over her, threatening to drag her away in it's torrent. Ramonay fought a losing battle for control. She strained, trying to draw on water. Even now, filled to brimming, drawing even more than she could hold, she could not muster enough water to complete her weave. She simply could not heal the child. She did not have the ability. When the realization struck her, slapping her across the face with the sharp insensitivity of reality, she knew she was defeated. Trembling, she tried to let go of the power. But something was wrong. She had drawn too much. It was pounding through her, rushing in a tidal wave, drowning her. Weakly, she fought for control. But it was too late. With a searing, wrenching pain she felt some vital part of herself torn away, ignited, incinerated. "Noooo!" With a scream, Ramonay fell over the child's body, unconscious. It was the rough, cold feel of rock beneath her cheek that brought Rams back to herself. She was lying flat on her stomach on some level surface. Head spinning and the woman's wails of grief echoing in her ears, she blinked and tried to remember what was happening. It all came back in a rush, as though someone had opened a floodgate. Her body contracting in fear, she cautiously reached out to for the power. Her relief made her dizzy when it filled her with it's sweetness. She was cold. Shakily, she got to her knees. Her palms were scratched, her fingertips bloody where they had dug into the rough rock floor. Pain shot up her thighs from her scraped knees. With an effort, she got to her feet. Once again she was back in the vaulted stone chamber. How she had gotten there, she did not know. With confusion, she remembered that she had once again missed her one chance back. Yet somehow she was again standing alone and bare in the deserted room, with only the ter'angreal for company. Glancing down at her hands, she noted the Great Serpent Ring on her finger. Why was she doing this? She had already passed through the ter'angreal successfully, years before. Thrice she had faced her fears, and thrice she had defeated them and taken her path back. Why must she do this again. Why must she go through this torture? Exhausted and emotionally drained, Ramonay made up her mind. She was not going back into that ter'angreal. She was going to go back up into the world of the waking, live her life, and hope that no one ever found out about her failure. Unsteadily, she began to cross the chamber. "Wait." Ramonay whirled, almost falling as her weak knees wobbled. There was no one there, yet she knew that somehow she was not alone. "Wh-who are you?" She asked, silently cursing the quaver in her voice. She'd meant that as an angry demand. "Don't you know me, Ramonay?" Blood and bloody ashes, that voice was sooo familiar! Rams wracked her brain, searching for a face, a name, anything to go with it. Still, she could not place it. "Who in the pit of dhoom are you?I tire of these games!" Swallowing she licked her lips and cleared her throat, trying to school her voice to an authoritative normal tone. "Ooh, foolish girl, I am your pride. Do you know me now?" Ramonay froze. "What do you want from me?" "Only that you face yourself, child. Only that you submit." Violently Ramonay shook her head. "No! No. I cannot. I must be strong." "But you are not strong. Twice you have tried and failed. Now you walk away? Would you leave this unfinished?" "This is not right! I am not supposed to be here!" "Oh, but you are. You have avoided this far too long. The time has come to make a choice, Ramonay." Rams shook her head in confusion. "I've already made my choice. I've fulfilled the requirements! I know what I want!" "Are you sure of that?" "Y-yes! Yes, I'm sure!" "Then why do you not enter the third arch?" Rams fell silent. "Why, Ramonay?!" The voice thundered, harsh and demanding obedience. "Because. Because....because I'm frightened." "What are you frightened of?" "Of...of...I don't know!!! Of failing again. Of not being able to come back! Of not wanting to come back!" The words left her in a rush, before she could think about what she was saying. They echoed in the chamber, bouncing back and pelting her with the stinging force of truth. Her shoulders slumped. "All I've done in the past six years is work to become Aes Sedai. I gave up everything for it. Even the parts of myself that I cherished, idealistic parts that dreamed of something different. I gave up everything but the part of me that wanted to be Aes Sedai so badly that I would give anything. I wondered if I'd lost something of myself - my humanity. I wondered if I'd lost the ability to feel. To feel fear or passion or wonder or love or compassion. But when I was inside of the ter'angreal, all of that came rushing back full force. I was subject to my emotions, I was clinging to the raft and they were the river, sweeping me up and taking me where they would. I don't want that again. I don't want to have to - to feel everything. I want to go on as I have been. As I have been trained to do." She took a shuddering breath. "I have to want that. If I allow myself to want anything else, I will be lost." Trembling, she subsided, knowing that, true to the letter of the vow she'd taken as an Aes Sedai, she'd just spoken complete, ungarnished truth. "Ramonay, you cannot run from your fears. I won't allow it. I am your master, even more than the Tower is. Go back to the ter'angreal. Step through the third arch." Shaking with chill and fear, Ramonay found her feet moving obediently. With a sigh, she gave into pride. "The way back will come but once, Ramonay Sedai. Be steadfast." She squared her shoulders and stepped numbly through the third arch. His heartbeat, thudding beneath her cheek in a slow, steady rhythm, was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard. She pressed her face against his chest, her body against his, feeling once again whole with his arms about her. "I never thought I'd see you again." Her words were muffled against the soft linen of his shirt, masking the disbelieving quaver in her voice. "I didn't think you were ever coming back." His voice echoed against her ear, resonating through his chest, when he spoke to her. "I had to come back for you. I could not go any longer knowing that I had left you behind." "Ah, Light. I do love you." Stepping back, she looked up into his eyes and raised still half disbelieving hands to touch his face, trace his lips and brows and the curve of his jaw. He was real. He was flesh and blood, warm and firm beneath her fingers. "It - it's not safe for you here. You know that." He dropped his eyes, gently pulling her hands down from his face and holding them between his own. "I know." Still he refused to meet her gaze. "But I had to see you once more. To see you and let you choose. I couldn't go on never knowing if there had been a chance." "Choose?" "I had to know if you would go with me, did I ask." Ramonay closed her eyes briefly, stricken silent at the words. "I know that this is your life here, Love. But I also know now that you replace all of the things that I had thought mattered before. You are my life. I want to be with you. But more, I want you to be happy." Rams could not stand away from him. His heat drew her like a moth to a flame. Outside of his arms she felt chilled and empty. Drawn to him, she rested her forehead against his shoulder. "I - I don't know any other life, anymore. I can't see...." she faltered, "is there no other way for us?" She knew the answer, even as the question left her lips. He did not speak. He would not ask her to come with him. He wanted it to be her decision. He would do what she wished, always. He would do as she thought best. Ramonay stood in his arms for a minute longer, leaning against him and feeling his hands, gentle on her back. In the shelter of his embrace, she felt safe from all doubt. She wanted only to hold onto him quietly and forget her responsibilities, let the voice of duty be drowned out by the beating of his heart. "I want to be with you. You are more to me than the Tower, even." she said, and felt his body melt against hers in relief. "Would you do that for me, Ramonay?" he asked, his voice husky. " In her mind, her pride echoed. "The third time is for what will be." "I would," she said, pressing her ear against his chest to drown out the voice. She could not leave him. "The way back will come but once. Be steadfast." Ramonay trembled, trying to resist that voice and it's call. She could actually feel the hand belonging to the voice, on her shoulder, tugging at her. She turned her face up to him, desperate for the touch of his lips to block out the feel of fingers on her shoulder. He bent his head to kiss her. The hand tugged again. "Ramonay Sedai. Ramonay Sedai." "Ramonay Sedai, wake up," a soft voice insisted. Ramonay gasped and sat bolt upright in her bed, her eyes wild and disoriented and her chest heaving with emotion. The Accepted, Syrennah Alspar, stepped back and dropped a quick, graceful curtsy. "Forgive me. I feared you were having a nightmare." Ramonay was still struggling to come awake, her mind hazy and confused. She thought she could still smell his scent in her nostrils. Her throat was raw and dry, and she knew that she had been crying out in the night. Her jaw ached from being clenched in fear. Syrennah was still a respectful distance from the side of the bed, but her brows were furrowed in concern. Vulnerable and shaken after her dream, She forgot her new position. Though the other woman was acting with the perfect protocol, Rams could remember when they'd studied side by side and eaten together, walked in the stables and gossiped. Syrennah was even a bit older than she was, on the verge of being raised herself. And at this moment, Rams was not Aes Sedai, but a woman, stricken with the choice she'd been asked to make. And also stricken with the dawning realization that it had not been real, that he had not been there beneath her hands, and that, had she had the chance to make that choice, she was not so certain that she would have chosen the Tower. She could not help it, the tears welled up in her eyes. "I...I was. I was having a nightmare. I wa -" her voice broke and she hid her face in her hands, the memory of heartbreak still fresh along the paths of her mind, too fresh, it seemed, for it to have been a dream. She did not hear Syrennah approach, but she felt the other woman sit next to her on the bed, and her arm go about her shoulders. Oblivious, for the moment, to custom and tradition, Ramonay leaned against the other woman and sobbed. After a brief but violent torrent of weeping, the shaking of her shoulders slowed, then stilled. Rams sighed a bit unsteadily and groped about her for something to wipe her eyes on. Syrennah produced a handkerchief, which she took gratefully. "Th-" She cleared her throat and tried again. "Thank you." She did not just mean for the handkerchief. "You're welcome." Syrennah's tone seemed to say that the entire scene was already forgotten, put behind them and out of mind. Pulling herself together, Ramonay managed a semblance of a smile, then asked, "Were you sent to wake me?" "Yes Aes Sedai, Jendaia Sedai sent me to wake you and tell you that today you must visit her tailor to get properly clothed. She wishes to meet you after breakfast, if that pleases you." "Are you to go back to her with my reply?" Syrennah smiled. She had a lovely, serene smile. "Yes, and then I'm to accompany you, and be fitted for some gowns of my own, to use upon my own raising." Syrennah's smile was slowly contagious. Rams felt the corners of her mouth rise in earnest. "Very well, then, I'd best get ready. It seems today is to be a day of shopping. I haven't done such in years!" Renna's face seemed to brighten in anticipation. "Nor have I!" She curtsied and hurried out to deliver Rams' response to Jen. By the time the door closed behind her, Rams was already out of bed and straightening her blankets. An almost childlike excitement was overtaking her at the idea of going to get new dresses. It would be nice to have fine things, to wear silks and dress like Lady. Thinking of wearing silks, suddenly she sobered. Those silks carried a price. Well she knew it. The life of an Aes Sedai was not all fine things and everyone bowing. They had been given a gift - this ability to channel that entitled them to a chance at a life of privilege. But with that privilege came obligation. An Aes Sedai's choices were never easy, because her call was not to be served, but to serve. And often, in the serving of a greater cause one must deny the wish to serve one's self. She'd learned something in the long night. By succumbing to her fears, one by one, she'd learned that that very human part of her was still there. But now she thought perhaps it was something she did not wish to lose. It made her choices harder, yes. But without passion, without the ability to feel, life was nothing. If she lived a hundred years as Aes Sedai and accomplished wondrous things, restoring the blight to life and beating back the shadow, feeding the hungry and quelling the red tide of war, it would all be for naught. If she did all of these things without allowing herself to feel, her life would be wasted. What good was the preservation of precious human life when one had no humanity to feel the joy of it? Ramonay crossed to the window and threw back the drapes, looking out over the tower gardens, and farther distant the peaks and spires of Tar Valon. This day started her new life, her new purpose. She had worked hard and sacrificed much to stand where she did right then. Much. She must make it count. "Ramonay Solace, Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah." She said to the empty room. No voice spoke back. "Aes Sedai of the Battle Ajah," she added. Then, resolutely, shoulders squared, she turned her face to the rising sun and, looking down from her mountaintop to the world spread out before her, congratulated herself.