Arleve watched as the serving man walked from the room, sighing softly to herself in mild disappointment. She had not seen her sister in weeks and was expecting word any day now. As twins, they had rarely been separated over the course of their lives and certainly never for this long. Their sixteenth Nameday was nearly upon them and it would be the social event of the season, if Adaina ever returned.
Frowning to herself, she rose from her armchair, automatically adjusting her breath to maintain her figure. Arleve found herself in front of the large wall mirror studying her features. Red golden hair swept back from her face, held by a small golden circlet. Her eyes were slightly tilted and a very deep green. She wore a thin Domani gown of pale green, it's length brushing the floor around her delicate slippers. Dark copper skin announced her Domani lineage more than anything else. And her large sensual lips announced her voice, for which she was known.
She had always enjoyed singing as a hobby, and it certainly aided her in the art of seduction, but the voice she thought of now, the voice she was truly known for was one guided by a savvy political mind. She was not easy to stir, but once roused she could be fierce and ruthless, her words serving as either tools or weapons depending on the situation. Her sister was always the calm one, content to stand back in quiet contemplation of events while Arleve reveled in being a part of the things around her, being involved in everything.
Looking at the room behind her in the mirror, she noticed not for the first time it's stunning opulence. Both of her parents had journeyed with her sister to meet their grandparents in Kandor and as the eldest daughter, it fell to her to greet any guests while they were away. Most of the guests were social, but some visited for talk of trade. Like most Domani women, her mother was a marvelous merchant and had brought much wealth and power to House Itaralde over the years.
The richness of the room was designed to impress as well as introduce. When someone was brought here for negotiation, they knew they were dealing with a woman of great intellect. They put their guard up and that was usually when her mother would enter the room in clothing similar to that of a lesser lord or common merchant of moderate success, to throw the visitor off balance, perhaps even causing him or her to underestimate her abilities maybe believing she had overstepped herself. This of course, worked for those not of Arad Doman. Any native merchant would not make such a foolish error.
Continuing to watch herself in the glass, she mused that perhaps she was not worthy of what being an Itaralde meant for her life and that of her sister. She knew what was expected of her, and she knew they were both smart but she also knew that much of her mother's success came from a natural skill, a natural presence that she was not sure she had. Her mother was dark of hair, with the same coppery skin. Her eyes were shaped the same, but were dark as well. When she smiled, it was like a glass of wine, chilled in a mountain stream after a great thirst.
She could see some of her father as well. His hair certainly, she thought to herself. His hair was like a fire and matched that of his daughters. Her nose was small and fine, similar to that of her father's as well though his was of course a bit larger. She believed she looked like him most when angry, her brow crinkling ever so slightly. Frowning in the mirror to study the resemblance, she couldn't help but smile again. The effect of her furrowed brow with a genuine grin was disconcerting. She looked slightly maniacal in fact. Widening her eyes greatly enhanced the effect. With a soft chuckle, she stuck her tongue out at herself.
"Whatever are you doing?" a soft feminine voice rose behind her.
Arleve nearly climbed up the mirror in shock at the sudden noise. Spinning, she forced her features to a semblance of calm, though after that display, she was fooling no one. She recognized the voice and the disdain. Both came from her bitterest rival and closest confidante, Teliva.
Teliva stood there in the doorway to the room dressed in a light blue Domani gown of the sheerest silk. Her eyes were dark like those of her own mother and her hair was long and blond. She wore it nearly loose with scattered sapphires throughout which shimmered as she moved. A wide grin set her face.
Smiling slightly, Arleve made her way back to the chair her mother usually sat in. Tall and of magnificent burgundy velvet, it loomed over the other chairs in the room, colored to match but nowhere near as luxurious. It lent the sitter presence and put her on higher ground. Teliva simply stood there, quietly watching Arleve.
"I was making sure my circlet was still placed." Arleve said as she sat. Gesturing to the smaller chair across from her, Arleve watched Teliva warily. They had been girlhood friends and still were, after a fashion. But Teliva's family was nearly as great in name as Arleve's. Not "as great" but "nearly as great" and that rankled even a childhood friend.
Teliva ignored the gesture for the chair and glided to the chilled spiced wine on the mantle. "Adaina has not returned yet?" she called over her shoulder as she poured.
Arleve's eyes widened a bit at the strange question, "Adaina? No, she has not yet returned,"
Teliva never cared for Adaina and the feeling was wholly mutual and hardly a secret. They tolerated each other at best when necessary, but Adaina usually found herself catching up on reading if Teliva came calling.
Arleve knew why. Teliva held Adaina in disdain. She believed her seeming lack of interest or skill in politics made her beneath consideration. Teliva did not know Adaina so well as she thought she did, Arleve mused to herself. Adaina was as politically savvy as anyone, but she did much better behind the scenes pulling the strings she needed to see pulled than out in the open. Adaina simply had no interest in being known as a great manipulator and because of that reason, she was not. It was her wish.
"You think I do not care about the welfare of your twin sister, Arleve?" Teliva chided as she turned around, her eyes darting immediately to Arleve's hand, which still stood outstretched to invite Teliva to sit.
Arleve blushed slightly and withdrew her hand at once, frowning at Teliva's near chuckle. Chuckle! "Oh I believe you care where she is, but certainly not because you miss her." She said bitterly.
The blond haired woman smiled again, "That is true. I do not miss your sister, except that it makes you sad that she is not here. For that reason if no other I would see her return to you. Did your parents speak of how long they would be away?"
"Yes, one month and that was at an end two days ago. I can only imagine the snow slowed them down. I remember Kandor as very cold, a place of perpetual winter."
"Will you return there when it is time? Will you claim rights there?" Teliva asked.
Arleve was always amazed at Teliva's skill to weave a conversation into the pattern she desired. This question was the reason she had come today, not to inquire after her sister. She had brought that up to throw Arleve off and it had worked momentarily. But Arleve was aware of her true purpose of course and had an answer prepared for it. Her father was a Lord of some high rank in Kandor. The name d'Caradarei was known throughout the Borderlands or so she was told but Teliva knew she would not try to claim rights in a country she had visited only twice in her life.
Long before she and her sister had been born, Amichel of House d'Caradarei had been trying to establish a trade route for his estates through Saldaea to reach Bandar Eban for years with no success. No success until he had met Arleve's mother, a new and minor merchant of the Great House Itaralde at the time. Susala Itaralde had just recently reached adulthood and the trade she established with Kandor had provided her first solid accomplishment in the merchant world. It also brought her a marriage and twin daughters.
Arleve and Adaina were given their father's name, while her mother kept her own. It was decided that they would spend as much time as possible with both parents. Amichel had estates to worry about and his loyalty to his Queen's army of course. He would have to spend much time at home in his native country. For different, although just as important reasons, Susala had to remain in Arad Doman. It was critical for her to establish contacts early on. She could not rely solely on those of her House for commerce and she knew it. In many ways, the life of a noble merchant like herself was more difficult than that of a title-less one. More was expected of her and the Itaralde name carried great responsibilities.
Arleve rose from the chair and moved to stand next to her friend. "I will not be claiming rights in Kandor, Teliva." She said softly. "I will stay here in Bandar Eban." She hesitated before going on, "I will found my own merchant house."
Teliva watched her for a moment in silence, a small crease marring her forehead. Whether it denoted confusion or mirth at her foolishness, Arleve could not say. She had known this news would cause some shock among their circle. Founding a merchant house was not easy, even for one of such high rank. And if she failed, it would be worse for her because of that rank. She could be socially shunned and might never recover. Small branches had been known to topple their noble motherhouses before and it could easily happen to the Itaraldes as well. But she thought she had some insulation against that. She hoped she did.
Teliva recovered quickly enough though, "Really? That is brave of you Arleve. But why would you do this?"
Arleve could hear the frustration in her friend's voice clearly now. Frustration over what though? This could only help Teliva. Surely she was not upset at the thought of her greatest rival possibly falling on her face.
She turned from her friend. Facing once again the mirror, though this time at an angle, she studied the lifeless fireplace in its reflection as she considered her words carefully. Dark wood stood in a holder, ready to be burned at a moment's notice. This room was nearly always too warm for her though with it lit, no matter how small the flames. Strange for a room so large. Perhaps it was the great tapestries, which hung from many of the walls. Only late autumn, a fire would have made the room unbearable for her now. Still, she wished for the flames anyway, just for the cheery glow. Adaina not returning and Teliva's obvious angst had made her sullen. She cared a great deal for her friend and did not like seeing here upset. Arleve turned back to find her friend had moved from beside her. She was now sitting in her mother's chair!
Teliva sat there gracefully, watching Arleve as though she were receiving her as the guest! Arleve smiled, though it never reached her eyes. Angry now, she walked forward to casually stand directly to the left of Teliva, forcing her to sit awkwardly on the chair and crane her neck to see her. Still, Arleve did not face the woman. Instead, she looked up at a great painting above the fireplace, in behind the chair. It was a portrait of the founder of House Itaralde. Her name was Kordett and she was magnificent to behold. She was not pretty, at least not in this portrait. She was old in fact, but her strength was evident in her expression. She stood next to nothing, holding nothing. She simply gazed out at the room with a disconcerting dominance. The effect was unnerving. Arleve took its strength and smiled to herself.
"My family name is d'Caradarei. I am an Itaralde and shall always be, but I want the d'Caradarei House to have a name in Arad Doman as well. I wish to expand her influence and that of my own Domani House." Arleve said in strong clear tones as she turned back to her friend. Arleve's chin was held high as she looked down on her friend. Sitting in her mother's chair or not, it was clear who was receiving whom.
Teliva nodded slightly under that gaze, "I see Arleve. You realize this means I cannot do so myself."
Arleve was startled again. She had not expected her friend to wish to start a merchant House on her own. And she realized instantly that Teliva was right. Teliva would never be able to begin her own if Arleve did. The Itaralde House would take it as an affront and see to it that Teliva failed, no matter what she did. No one would deal with her, no one in Arad Doman at any rate. For a moment, she felt guilt at having cost a friend her dreams so she could forward her own. But she looked at her friend gazing up at her from her mother's chair and the guilt vanished.
"I was not aware that was your intent Teliva. Had you mentioned it earlier, perhaps.." she trailed off and spread her hands. Its message was clear. Teliva's dreams would be secondary to Arleve's and that was all there was to it.
After a moment, Teliva nodded, perhaps in resignation, "Of course Arleve, you could not have.." She stopped speaking though and looked up to her right.
Arleve followed her gaze and saw why she had stopped speaking. Another person had entered the room. A woman had entered wearing a long oiled cloak, splattered with droplets of water. The woman had dark hair, pulled back into a bun, which sat atop her head slightly askew. The woman looked flushed as though in from the cold or the heat, though she did not sweat. She had a large jaw and the look of a common farmer's wife. But her eyes held something else entirely. She watched Arleve and Teliva with a look of superiority, the look of someone who was used to being obeyed. A farmer's wife could have gained such a look, she supposed, but not one this young. It was then that she noticed the gray streaking the woman's hair and the strange feel of experience about the woman, the look of knowledge in her otherwise unremarkable brown eyes.
The woman nodded slightly. "It was as I thought. It is often the same with twins, both born with the ability. And this one will be as strong as the other." she said, clucking her tongue.
The woman turned her back on Arleve then to face the doorway, which now held the form of Arleve's father. He was tall and held the shape of a man who was used to battle. His hair and cloak were dark with wet, his eyes a clear hazel brown and now they held?respect. That was all Arleve could call it. There was sadness and frustration on his face to be sure, but respect was the dominating feature.
"Who are you?" Arleve demanded. The woman ignored her and moved to stand in front of her father.
"She must come with us Amichel. You know it must be." She said the tall Borderlander. He watched the woman and closed his eyes. For a long moment, there was no noise, no words spoken. Finally, without opening them, he nodded simply.
The woman nodded in return and slowly turned back to face Arleve. After a moment she said, "You must pack your things child, as if you were going away for three days in rough weather. We leave within the hour, so be quick about it." With that, she turned and strode from the room, Arleve's father making way for her as if for a queen.
Arleve's mouth was agape. She turned to find Teliva staring in shock. Finally, she looked up to meet her father's gaze, "What is this woman, father? Who is she?"
He watched her, pride and grief coloring his features. "My daughter, you must do as the Aes Sedai says," The words fell around her like a spider web hanging between two trees sending chills down her spine. "You must go with her." He glanced down at the still sitting form of Teliva. His eyes took in the chair in which she sat and he spoke with a wry twist to his mouth, "You will not be a merchant my daughter, never a mere merchant." His voice took on an air of reverence, "You will be Aes Sedai."
Looking up at her again, a smile crept into his features, "Make your goodbyes to your mother girl. Pack your things." And with that, he turned from the doorway.
Arleve stood in stunned disbelief for long moments. At some point, Teliva left the room. Her mother came in with quick hugs and words of encouragement. Servants came and removed her clothing, dressing her in appropriate attire for the long trek ahead. Her sister came and held her, patting her in sympathy and reassuring, saying she would be with her, that they would be together. All of this she submitted to, as if in a dream, as if in a great fog she could barely see through. She could hardly hear or see anything, except for the portrait. She stood alone in the same room staring up at the painting of Kordett, at the grim determination in her eyes.
At the end of an hour, a woman's voice came from behind her, from the doorway to the room. "It is time to go child." The voice said. Arleve did not turn around but slowly nodded.
The journey to Tar Valon was a long and difficult one. Never one to easily take authority, Arleve demanded many answers on the way, answers which never satisfied her. She couldn't help but be angry and resentful as her dreams had been dashed. As the frustration at the Aes Sedai's closemouthed manner slowly dissipated over the weeks of travel, it was replaced with another emotion which Arleve was unused to.
She knew with a certainty that she did not want to be Aes Sedai. Though she was sad at missing the opportunity to found her merchant house, her apprehension had more to do with something else. She knew the Itaralde House would continue to flourish without her and a part of her was happy Teliva would have her chance. The source of her desire to slip off in the night was simple mortal fear. She did not trust the One Power or channeling. She was terrified of it and horrified that she would have to become what she had so long avoided but both her mother and father had insisted and she had given her word.
Her promise was what kept her focused. Her sister was what kept her from fleeing in mindless horror. Arleve and Adaina d'Caradarei made their trip to Tar Valon with the Aes Sedai of the Brown Ajah. They celebrated their sixteenth birthday in some sleepy Andoran village with no words exchanged. Their journey was one of horror for the twins, but it was also one of growth, though they would not realize it until many years later.
As the ramparts of the White Tower first became visible through the trees, the twins saw before them a prison full of danger and people they didn't know or understand but they knew without question that they would always have each other, even here. The Aes Sedai was already some distance ahead and was waving at them to hurry.
Adaina reined her horse up right next to her twin's and reached across the pommel of her saddle to pat Arleve's hand, "Come sister." She said evenly, eyeing the White Tower and the Aes Sedai both. She heeled her horse to a slow walk ahead of Arleve's down the path. Arleve stood a moment longer watching through the trees until Adaina called back over her shoulder, "Come sister, our future beckons."
With a grim sigh, Arleve clucked her tongue and heeled her own mount forward.
The names Arleve d'Caradarei and Adaina d'Caradarei were entered into the Book of Novices