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[river_meimei]

It's warming up, a little. Not to full spring yet, but the snow has melted and the mud is beginning to dry, here and there. There are snowdrops, and faint ripples of green in the brown grass.

River -- in sweater and coat and boots -- sits under a willow tree, watching the lake. The spreading branches are just beginning to haze yellow-green with new leaf-buds, and somewhere a lark is singing.

Comments

[blue_ajah]

It is not the Garden in the Dreaming, nor her valley retreat there. It is slightly chill, and the path is occasionally treacherous.

This does not seem to trouble the Aes Sedai as she makes her way along the lake's shore, walking toward the woods beyond. Indeed, Moiraine seems lost in thought.

[river_meimei]

River doesn't turn her head.

This doesn't necessarily mean she doesn't notice Moiraine.

Late afternoon sunlight glitters across the lake's ruffled surface.

[blue_ajah]

It is bright, and quiet save for the singing birds and the occasional whisper of leaves stirred by a light breeze.

She glides over the earth and then the grass, moving with deft grace as she uses both hands to lift her long skirts just enough to move without difficulty.

Moiraine leaves the bridle-path that curves around by the water and follows the trail that leads up the gentle grassy slope.

She, however, does not see River-- more than half-concealed by distance and quiet and drooping branches.

[river_meimei]

River... watches the lake.

Her head rests against the tree's rough bark. Her skirt today is yellow and white, patterned with a profusion of tiny flowers, and it pools around her heavy boots.

[blue_ajah]

Moiraine is within ten yards of the younger girl before the breeze stirs the branches and flutters the edge of River's skirt, and the Aes Sedai starts as she notices her.

"Lan would scold me for days for paying so little attention to my surroundings," she mutters under her breath, but clearly. "And he would be right to."

More distinctly, then, she calls,

"Good afternoon, River."

[river_meimei]

River glances at her, head tilting against the willow trunk.

"Yes," she says.

[blue_ajah]

It could be a response to either or both, she knows-- more so now than before, now that she has a clearer understanding.

A clearer comprehension, one might say.

"How are matters with you?" Calmly, but allowing her curiosity to show.

[river_meimei]

One might.

River studies her for a moment.

"Outdated solar calendar," she says. "Based on a vestigial calculation of the sun's relative location ratio. Made of wax and feathers but it feels real."

Beat.

As if clarifying something, "It's April."

[blue_ajah]

A brief shadow drifts across the dark eyes. Wings of wax, worn by a young man who flew too high and was burned by the sun. Icarus, she recalls, had drowned in the sea when he fell.

Neither she nor River had drowned, in the end. If one cannot fly, then perhaps one can learn to swim.

"It is, here at least-- and spring, and growing warmer." One graceful gesture indicates the lake, River's willow, and the expanses between and beyond. "It is pleasant to walk out here sometimes, I find."

And important to not only walk in dreams, she thinks, very clearly.

A pause. "Do you mind my company? I am not disturbing you, I may hope?"

[river_meimei]

River breathes in, and out.

"There's room," she says.

The quick twitch of -- it's not quite a smile, even now, but it's something close to one.

[blue_ajah]

She smiles back, at any rate, serenely but clear, and then leaves the path to duck under the hanging branches with their yellow-green spring leaves.

Moiraine sits carefully on the grass under the tree, skirts spread out around her, not too close to River.

She is not quite sure what to say, and so settles for saying nothing yet, tilting her head back to look up at the patches of sunlight visible above.

[river_meimei]

River's okay with silence.

Out on the lake, a huge white fin rises, cutting through the glistening trail of sunlight in a slow, sweeping circle. Water ripples after it.

[blue_ajah]

"It is likely that Ed is glad of the warmer weather as well," she murmurs. "I cannot think that it would have been pleasant to be under the ice all this time."

[river_meimei]

"Ed'Rashtekaresket," she says to the lake, reflectively.

"He's very patient."

This is probably a response to the remark about ice.

[blue_ajah]

"He is, at that." Moiraine glances sideways at her.

"Not that many would be able to remember and say his full name, I suspect. Certainly that is the impression I received from him."

[river_meimei]

"He can make flashcards," River informs the lake peacefully.

[blue_ajah]

The context takes only a few seconds.

"Holding them might be more difficult for him, however," she says with dry amusement.

[river_meimei]

River shrugs one shoulder against the tree trunk, unconcerned by such trivial details.

[blue_ajah]

Silence again, but not tense, for once.

Moiraine continues looking out at the lake, idly comparing the scene before her to her memory of the valley in the Dreaming.

[river_meimei]

River glances at her.

[blue_ajah]

The movement draws her attention, and a glance of her own before she looks out over the lake once more.

"Is there something you would ask, perhaps?" Casually said, or very nearly.

[river_meimei]

River looks back towards the lake, after a moment, tilting her head back to direct her gaze up at the lattice of almost-bare branches.

"You're thinking."

It's very hard to tell if that's an oblique question or just an observation.

[blue_ajah]

"I often do," she murmurs. There is a pause.

"I was musing on what similarities there are to this lake and those in a valley in the Dreaming, a place that was given to me to create."

[river_meimei]

River watches her, sidelong, and listens silently.

[blue_ajah]

"It is bright, in both places," she says quietly, knowing that River is listening and yet not turning to watch her.

Moiraine remembers very well what she has learned through three days spent
(burning in the light of the sun)
between ticks of the clock in Del's realm.

She focuses very clearly on the picture in her mind, the image of a green valley strung with glittering lakes, a sky of sapphire and white cloud, with trees of all shades of foliage from spring to autumn spread over the hills and shores.

"Bright, and the colors are clear. Both places are real, but there is formed of dreams and memories of a place that once was combined with that which never was. Here is different, in its way."

[river_meimei]

Silence, for a moment.

"Everything is," River says ambiguously to the long sloping lawn.

[blue_ajah]

"In its way," the Aes Sedai agrees.

[river_meimei]

River doesn't answer. Her eyes are on the lawn, gazing at the brown winter grass with absent interest.

The sail-like white fin slowly sinks below the water, and Ed'Rashtekaresket circles, circles.

[blue_ajah]

She is quiet for a moment more, and then gracefully rises to her feet.

"I believe that I shall continue on my way," Moiraine tells River. "I thought I would walk in the forest. You are welcome to join me, if you would like."

It comes across clearly as an invitation that is welcome to be accepted or refused, without consequence either way.

[river_meimei]

River glances at her again after a moment, head turning against the willow trunk.

"I'm sitting down," she says.

Still no smile, not exactly, but this is probably the most relaxed demeanor she's ever directed at Moiraine.

[blue_ajah]

"So you are," Moiraine agrees serenely. "Another time, perhaps."

"Light illumine and protect you, River."

With a small nod of farewell, the Aes Sedai parts the hanging branches and glides away, soon disappearing into the forest.

[river_meimei]

The afternoon sun is bright on the lake, and the grass is beginning to haze towards green. There's a faint warmth in the air -- new spring, they call this season, in some parts of the multiverse.

River sits under her tree, and watches leaves unfold.