Rahien plucked at the fabric of the plain woollen white dress and decided she preferred her own worn and tattered travelling clothes, no matter how scruffy their appearance. Though clean, the fabric of the novice dress was warm and uncomfortable and she felt like people would think she had fleas with the way she was scratching in various places. Especially the tight collar was driving her absolutely crazy and she pulled at it for the thousands time that day. She still expected someone to come up to her to let her know it was all a big joke and laugh at her for thinking she could actually learn to channel. Rahien had thought about it a lot since they had told her she had “the spark” and wondered if this was the Creator’s way of giving her a second chance in life or a cruel joke on his part.
Rahien would have been quite happy to spend the rest of her life in a place where she didn’t have to face anyone, but instead she was being forced into taking classes and doing chores that made her interact with people more than she ever had, even before her disfigurement. She cursed under her breath as she realised she was lost again and backtracked her steps until she found a familiar spot. Paying better attention this time, she managed to find the Mess Hall and the kitchens that lay beyond it the second time round.
She had been relieved to find that she had been excused from classes for the first week until she was settled in, but she was still expected to do her part of the chores. She adjusted the scarf around her head before stepping through the wide doors in a gesture that was quickly becoming second nature. Her eyes were the only thing that had been left unchanged by the avalanche of rocks, although one of her eyebrows protruded at a funny angle over them, the bone never setting properly with the rudimentary healing she had received. It had done nothing to diminish the intensity of their colour, although these days the catlike green eyes only added to the frightful picture.

Not that many would notice, as Rahien had made it a habit of keeping her eyes on the floor and avoiding peoples looks as much as she could. It made it easier to ignore their pity or painful curiosity. In a way she preferred those who showed their loathing openly, it made it easier to treat them coldly and with feigned indifference. Much to her relief, the Mess Hall was still empty this early in the morning and Rahien made her way to the Kitchens, where the Mistress of the Kitchens awaited her with as big a stack of dirty pots and pans as she had ever seen. After a perfunctory look at the bright scarf on her head, the Mistress of the Kitchens sniffed and pointed Rahien to a large tub of steaming soapy water, with nothing but a wave of her wooden spoon. Rahien needed no further instructions and rolled up her sleeves.

The pots were big and heavy and Rahien was quickly reminded of the fact that her body was still mostly in a state of recovery. Before long she was out of breath and beads of sweat had begun to form on her forehead, but she stubbornly plotted on, unwilling to show this woman any weakness. In a way she was grateful that the woman had not bothered with idle chitchat, Rahien was quite happy not to talk at all. She hated the way her voice sounded these days, so rough and hoarse, as if the inside of her throat was lined with sand. The next pan nearly slipped from her fingers and as she made an effort to hoist it into the tub, she was rewarded with a sharp rap on the knuckles from the already dreaded wooden spoons. “You dent my pans girl and you will live to regret it.” The woman had already moved off before Rahien could even react and she was left behind shaking her hand with a painful grimace. She had quickly found out that she was fully expected to bow and scrape to just about everyone, except maybe her fellow novices. It was another hard lesson to learn, because it forced her to swallow yet another bit of her pride. When the Mistress of the Kitchens wasn’t watching, she arched her back, grimacing at the painful twang of her back muscles. She had thought life among the Aiel had been hard, but now she began to wonder if the Tower meant to kill her before allowing her to learn. The sound of the kitchen door caught her attention and she looked up to see who had come in.

Lalaine sighed in frustration, leaving the classroom where she had been attemping to learn to channel. Attempting, being the keyword. It was so disappointing to come to the White Tower, and not be able to channel at all. Bloody block, she thought to herself in annoyance. Lalaine did not get upset easily, and she didn't bother over trivial matters. But her success was not a trivial matter, and it was hard not to get upset over. Lalaine supposed that part of it was because she had not had a chance to see her brother in some time, but they had known when they'd entered the Tower as initiates that it would be so. Still, she couldn't help but wish that it were different. Oh, Lalaine didn't regret signing her name in the novice book, not one bit. It had to be better at home. If there still was a home.

The sinking fear returned to her stomach. You didn't kill him, she could remember her brother saying. But how would he know? Light. She shoved that from her thoughts, trying to remember how to get to the kitchens. Some days weren't as bad as others. The Tower kept her busy, and when she was busy, she didn't dream or think about things like that. Just get to the kitchens, she thought begrudgingly to herself. What was done was done. She couldn't change the past. Despite her effort to avoid it, her mind kept wandering back. She wondered if Sloane had lied to her about the incident though. It would certainly be something that he would do. She couldn't help but smile. The Light illumine her brother.

She passed some other novices in the hallways, all of them smiling and walking along with each other, unless of course they passed an Aes Sedai. Then they dropped quick curtsies and hurried along their way. Lalaine couldn't help but feel very alone. She had only just met one of her room mates, and a few of the novices in her classes. Other than that... all she had was her brother, but he was at the Black Tower. They didn't have much time to see each other, and Lalaine was lonely because of it. She had never really been without Sloane before. She kept her eyes down. It was hardly a Domani behavior, but Lalaine wasn't like the rest of them. She might have been, but certain events in her life had taken her away from the smooth confident air that most Domani women held. Even without her mother, she had learned all the Domani tricks from her grandmother. She supposed it would be best if Sloane and she wrote their grandparents a note. They had left rather unexpectedly.

Finally, she neared the kitchen door. She opened it quietly and met the eyes of another novice who was already working. The girl had a scarf around her head, and though her eyes were normal, Lalaine saw that something bad had happened to the girl. She gave a small smile, getting a chill down in her stomach at the thought of what could have done that to the other novice. She hid her feelings though, only smiling and taking up a pot next to the novice. "Morning," said Lalaine quietly. "Mind if I join you?" Not that she had much of a choice.

Rahien didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed when another novice entered the kitchen and asked to join. She was tired enough to be grateful for the help, but it also meant she had to face her shame at her appearance. Her hand subconsciously snuck up to check the scarf, making sure it was still firmly in place. Still, the smile on the girl’s face was genuine enough and Rahien didn’t have the heart to snap at her. Giving a resigned shrug she nodded and moved over to make room. Studying the girl from under her lashes, Rahien could not help but feel a sharp pang of envy. She moved with that particular beguiling grace that could only be found in the women from Arad Doman which made men loose their wits just to see it. She was very beautiful; brown hair the colour of dark honey framing a face that was smooth as the finest china and eyes that sparkled like sapphires.

Rahien resisted the urge to touch her own cheek, remembering well the days when men had been pleased by her appearance. Unlike herself though, this girl had a genuine charm that Rahien had never possessed. Rahien had always been very calculated in using every asset to its fullest advantage, often for no other reason than to see if she could win the attention of a man from another woman. It was only a few years ago and yet she felt as if remembering someone totally different from the person she was now. She was slowly giving up hope that the Wise Ones would one day restore her, especially since she had no idea when they would consider their conditions met. They had set no time limit; they had only told her to return when she felt she had met her honour. Rahien avoided looking at the other novice; it was just too painful to be reminded of what she had lost.

Would there ever be a day when she could look at another woman and not feel this way? She feared the answer to that question, because if she could not rise above that feeling, then she faced a lonely time ahead indeed. She had been trying to avoid company as much as she could, using her anger as a shield to hide the pain, but it was getting harder and harder. She had no one left now and she had always been a social creature, hungering for attention in whichever way she could get it. Pretending to hate everyone around her was something that was getting harder each day. Sighing softly to herself she straightened from the tub of soap and said: “Yes, thank you. I would be grateful for your help.” Her words sounder cooler than she had intended, but there was nothing she could do to change that now. She was making an effort, but for now that was as much as she could muster. Let the girl think she was rude and arrogant, perhaps that would dissuade her from asking painful questions.

Rahien realised she wasn’t being fair to the girl, who had given her no reason to treat her in such a way, but she could not change the way she felt. She’s so pretty, I’m sure everyone’s just falling over themselves to be her friend Rahien nearly smirked before she realised just how mean that thought was. To hide her embarrassment, she quickly bent over the pot again and started scrubbing furiously. It was clear she had a long way to go before she had a chance of getting anywhere near being this honourable person the Wise Ones seemed to think she could be.

The other novice sighed, and said simply, "Yes, thank you. I would be grateful for your help.” Her words were cool, and Lalaine could see that the girl's past had been shaped by painful events. Not merely by her appearance, but about the way she acted. Lalaine's own past hadn't been particularly pleasant, but that was of no matter. She slipped in to begin doing her chores gently and quietly. Lalaine was good at reading emotions, but she didn't want to seem overzealous to talk to this novice. Sometimes that merely pushed people away. She adjusted her working speed unnoticeably to the same speed as the other novice, working quietly for some time, before asking, "What's your name?" She hadn't met very many of the novices yet, save one of her room mates, though that hadn't been an overly pleasant meeting. She rather hoped that this one could be better, but judging by the tension in the room, it might not be.

"I'm Lalaine," she continued, drying a pan carefully before setting it aside, watching as some soap suds dripped down her arms to her elbows. She didn't probe any more than that, merely because she was not one to be assertive in a conversation, and she doubted that the other novice would appreciate it. She worked on silently, thinking about the lessons that she had learned that day, wondering if Sloane was doing well. She wondered briefly too if he had found some friends to run around the Black Tower with. She was not having very much luck with that, but then again, when had she ever? Back at home, Sloane and she hadn't been overly attractive children to play with, what with no mother and a drunk father. She shoved those thoughts away, scrubbing her own pot all the more harder. She wasn't going to think about home anymore. This was her home now.

Then why did it feel so lonely?

((OOC: Sorry it's not very long, and sorry it took me a while. I'll try to get something a little better in my next post. :)))

For a moment Rahien feared the other Novice might the type who found it necessary to keep talking incessantly, but she was soon pleasantly surprised. The young woman fell in next to her without a word and for a while they worked together side-by-side in silence, until Rahien felt herself relax. She was feeling too tired to deal with confrontational personal questions and the other woman seemed to sense this. When she did finally enquire after Rahien’s name, Rahien even found herself answering with a genuine smile. “Hello Lalaine, my name is Rahien.” There was a fragile quality about her, like she would break apart at the slightest pressure, but Rahien knew such things could be very deceiving. She was certainly wise beyond her years, something that was clear in the way she carried herself.

For a moment Lalaine attacked one of the pots with as much vigour as Rahien herself had been doing just moments before and Rahien thought she saw a shadow of sadness pass over the woman’s face. Sorrow was certainly something Rahien understood and all of a sudden she felt connected to this woman she had only just met. Lalaine made her somehow feel oddly protective and Rahien nearly shook her head at herself as she realised. Her headscarf kept sliding down on her forehead and Rahien pushed it back up again with an exasperated intake of breath. At least Lalaine had provided her with some much-needed distraction from the monotony of the soap and the pans. A few moments more and she probably would have screamed out of boredom, if she had the energy left of course. Giving a snort she muttered: “I think I’ve scrubbed more pans in the last couple of weeks than I ever have in my whole life before.”

She made sure to keep her voice low enough for the Mistress of the Kitchens not to hear, as she was sure the retribution with the wooden spoon would be swift. She suddenly realised that the words made her sound spoiled brat and even though that’s exactly what she had been, she hated for Lalaine to think of her as such. “My mother always thought an education was more important than learning how to cook or clean.” Rahien grimaced as she realised how lame that sounded and stopped trying to defend herself. Wasn’t that what she had done her whole life though? She had forever been spinning stories to make herself sound more interesting, scarcely caring if what she said was actually true or not.

As a child she had fabricated outrageous stories as she tried to make her fantasies about who her father might be come true. At that age most had ignored her and found her stories cute, but as she grew up, it became a habit that was hard to break. Even now she found she fought the urge to embellish her mother’s wealth and boast about her mother’s estates, that had in fact been little more than a large farm. Why was it so important what other people thought? Rahien realised she really wanted Lalaine to like her and the fact that she looked so repulsive made her want to come up things that might persuade her to look past the scars and deformations. She had been very surprised when she realised that the Aiel didn’t lie and it had been hard to fathom that there were people who didn’t. Still, if she wanted to stand a chance of redeeming herself in their eyes, she would have to model herself after their example and thus the lies would have to stop. Rahien decided to try a new approach by showing interest in someone else for a change instead of trying to get everyone around her to show interest in her. “I think it will take me a while to get used to all this. Have you been here very long?” Lalaine was old enough to be an Accepted, most Novices barely seemed old enough to have left their mother’s apron strings.

(ooc don't worry about the length of the reply, I hardly gave you anything to go on! and take your time, as and when you have time :) )