Participants: Morillin, Maeve, Mirla, Silkor, Mirla, Kyra

Background: As if events hadn't been strange and hectic enough, rumours now had been circulating around the city. A party had arrived at the gates, three women wearing Aes Sedai shawls, a man and a serving woman. The nobles were stirred into a frenzy -- as much as they can be -- but Maeve and Jaice knew the their time with the ter'angreal was running out.

Setting: Common Room: Silver Star Inn, Cairhien

Morillin is sitting beside Maeve, conversing quietly with her.

Could that be almost a grin on Silkor's face at the entrance of this woman? Naw, must me a trick of the light.

Mirla doesn't appear to notice one way or the other as she jaunts right over to Silkor's table. She swings a chair around and straddles it, folding her arms on the rim. The bar staff, knowing her well by now, sets a full-to-the brim ale before her.

Maeve's lips curve into a sly smile, She mutters to Bar Stools, "... not...." She breaks off, that expression just too lazily catlike for a moment, though then the cool reserve returns, her smile perfectly gracious once again. "I will convey your message. I am sure she will be thrilled to hear we did not waste our strength in vain." A pause there, and something seems to tug at her, for she turns around as the door opens, grey and silvery eyes falling upon Jaice.

Silkor says "Evenin' Mirla."

"Hey Silkor." Mirla says. She takes a swig of ale. Her hand falls down once to where her knives should be--whether to check and see whether or not she has them or whether or not she remembered /not/ to have them, one can only guess.

Morillin turns her head slightly, brushing thick strands of her midnight hair from her face as her gaze follows that of Maeve. With typical Aes Sedai serenity, aside from the faint quirk of her lips, she watches Jaice approach.

"Jaice." Maeve's smile is genuine this time, though both the curve of her lips and the keen gleam in her eyes betray an even further heightened awareness, even if her voice remains perfectly smooth. "Timing perfect, as usual. Glad you found the note, and not Diar." A wry quirk to the corners of her mouth. "Saves me the duty of go-between as well." So casual, so nonchalant, yet one cannot doubt now that it hides so much more.

Morillin ignores Maeve, her cool voice carrying an obvious note of satisfaction as she speaks to the newcomer. "I am pleased to see you at last, Jaice. It saves me the trouble of dealing with irksome children and their ridiculous games." Perhaps she's talking about Cairhienin nobility.

Ever so concious of the many eyes upon her, Jaice makes her way fluidly to the bar, brushing past various patrons who crowd the area. Inclining her head first to Morillin, she saves the curtsey; Light knows what impression the Aes Sedai had planned to cast upon the Cairhien locals. Her own grasp of Daes Dae'mar she found appallingly deficient, at least in her own mind. "Yes, thank you Maeve. And... good evening, Morillin Sedai. I am glad to see the Tower received my message." What more to say, with so many watching?

Watching? One person who is decidedly not watching is Mirla Sunami. Mirla Sunami seems to have a vested interest in her ale and not much else. If anything, she's watching the door, maybe a suspicious patron in the back of the room, most of them men. Not a group of three women up at the bar. Whether or not she's watching the more dangerous in the room is up to anyone else to say!

Rather pleased to finally have time for what she after all came here for, Maeve waves the serving girl over to order another glass of wine, some more coin finding its way onto the bar. To the nervous glances the maid shoots at Morillin, the red-haired woman merely smiles with ill surpressed amusement. But, as Jaice approaches, she puts her drink out of her mind for a moment longer, turning to her friend again, watching her thoughtfully for a little.

Morillin nods slightly, her hands brushing across her embroidered shawl. "It was received. One day, you will have to show me how it was done." A quick glance around the room, and then, "Perhaps we should retire to a more private location? Maeve can remain here if she wishes, and enjoy her wine. Or whatever."

Silkor continues his quiet contemplation, seeming rather relax. He doesn't seem to care much about what's going on in the room.

Jaice's quick glance to Maeve indicates the last thing she wants is for her friend to remain here while she goes off with Morillin, but that's the only small sign of unease she displays. Swallowing, she smooths her skirts with one hand and inclines her head. "Of course. The only locale I am familiar with is the Moderal residence where I have been staying, thanks to Maeve's generousity; if you have a better spot in mind...?"

Morillin smiles faintly. "That should do quite well. I doubt Maeve will object to extending her generosity a little further." Calling the bartender to her with a raised hand, she quietly requests paper and quill.

A slight nod in Jaice's direction, though it might just as well have been a motion to glance down into her glass before bringing it to her lips, checking for flies or whatever else might have ended up in it. Maeve seems almost too relaxed once again, though one knowing her well would recognize it for a carefully perfect act. However, as Morillin speaks she does smile wryly once more. "I suppose we shall soon find out what the master of the house thinks, he usually prefers to invite the women over himself." But, she does not object, likely because the suggestion was, after all, Jaice's.

Not so much a suggestion as a round-about-way of encouraging Morillin to suggest a room of her own; but one cannot call back the wave that has passed, and Jaice presses her lips slightly, nodding once before moving through the crowded room toward the door. Next time -- if there is a next time -- she'll likely remember to keep her mouth shut.

Morillin snorts as she dips the quill into a tiny jar of ink and quickly scrawls something on the parchment which is set before her. "I rarely concern myself with anything men might think. If they think at all." Blotting her note with a bit of sand, she returns it to the bartender with a murmured instruction, before rising gracefully to her feet.

Draining her second glass of wine, she's not about to waste anything cool and refreshing on a day like this, Maeve slides down from the barstool with her usual, languid grace. A soft chuckle escapes her at Morillin's comment. "You miss out on a quite fascinating ... creature." Slipping a fan of painted lace from her bodice, she unfolds it and moves towards the door as well.

[ Moving to the Sitting Room: Moderal Residence, Cairhien]

Picture Frame
Large enough to stand to a man's hip and polished to a high sheen, this frame rests against the far wall as though it belongs here. The wood is dark but plain, and scratches and bent nails line the back of it where someone has tried to affix a painting to the back, and failed. To all outward appearances, it seems harmless.

Jaice walks in silently, her eyes quickly scanning the room -- perhaps for Diar -- before she turns back toward Morillin with a quiet, expectant nature. She's good at maintaining that Atha'an Miere placidity, though one might take the subtle clasping of her hands before her as a sign of nervousness. Perhaps. "I had heard of three Aes Sedai arriving, Morillin Sedai." News travels fast, here. "I did not think the Amyrlin would send so large a contingent."

The sitting room is empty as you enter it. Luckily perhaps, but not unexpected in the later hours of the day. Maeve seems faintly relieved to find that this is the case, though doesn't stop exchanging those little glances she has traded with Jaice all the way here. "Light, Cairhien weather... makes you wish for a good winter," she mutters to herself, leaving the serious talk up to Jaice, for now.

Morillin sweeps in after you both, also pausing to take stock of her surroundings. After a moment, she moves to the couch and settles herself with a soft rustling of silk, adjusting her shawl so its fringe runs down either arm. Something in the way she sits, or the manner in which she studies you both, seems to make this room hers and you the guests. "You may sit," she finally says quietly. "The Amyrlin sent three because we have more to deal with here than finding you, Jaice, and the more eyes the better."

Jaice exchanges glances with Maeve at that, but she's smart enough not to press her luck when she's unaware of the boundaries of the situation. "May I ask who the others are?" The slender woman settles herself comfortably on a couch as she speaks.

Maeve, however, isn't. She might moderate her behaviour some, for Jaice, but she's not about to turn into someone else. "Why thank you," she dryly replies, "I would extend the same to you, but..." A light shrugh, and idly she meanders off to take the armchair by the window, settling back in a lazily comfortable manner. For a moment her gaze strays, falling upon a large object leaned against a nearby wall, though it flicks back to Jaice and Morillin almost at once.

Morillin doesn't seem to take much notice of Maeve, at least for the moment. Settling her sharp eyes on Jaice, she says briskly, "Now then. Describe how you came to be here, Accepted. Every last detail."

Jaice's slender form stills at those words, her glance flicking just briefly to the object leaning against the far wall, and then to the table before her. Smoothing her skirts as though merely making herself comfortable, she makes an attempt at sorting her thoughts. "I suppose, Aes Sedai, that you know Coliena Sedai's half of it? She had asked myself, Sionil and Milli to help her find a ter'angreal in the storage room." A shared glance with Maeve then, and she continues. "I was asking many questions of them; I had been in there before with Maeve to assist with her project, but there are so many, we barely scratched the surface. At any rate, we came to one that Coliena said had not been triggered in recorded memory."

Morillin says nothing, her dusky features devoid of expression as she watches Jaice.

Grey eyes, faintly clouded over and with no trace of silver left within them now, occasionally linger with Jaice, those looks unreadable like the rest of Maeve's expression. But, more often they stray towards the stairway, red lips pursing faintly in a superficially thoughtful manner. It would seem the current company is the least of her worries, or perhaps she merely transfers them elsewhere on purpose. She does not speak though, not knowing these details of the story too well.

Jaice swallows, moistening her lips before continuing the tale, her voice sounding in even tones. "That seemed interesting; she said that no sister who had ever tried to trigger it had any success, and they'd tried everything. So, I asked to try. She agreed, provided I was very careful, and I channelled a thin, simple flow of Spirit at it." Spreading her hands in a gesture of unknowing, the slender Atha'an Miere frowns. "The flows... -changed-. I think it was the bad luck that had been going around the city; is that still there? It shaped itself, did something I was not controlling. I saw it; I could copy it, but... I felt a lurch, felt a little nauseous, and I found myself in a storage room on the other side of town."

Morillin's mouth tightens as she listens. Perhaps she hadn't known this previously. "You were still in Tar Valon, though?"

Jaice shakes her head, indicating the floor with one downward finger. "By the other side of town, Aes Sedai... I mean -this- town."

Morillin is quiet for a long moment. "Why would it transport you there?" she then muses softly. "Was there anything in this room? Another ter'angreal?"

Once more a stray glance of Maeve's brush over that object leaned against the wall, which a closer inspection might reveal to be two separate things, one the twin of the other. Still fanning herself, in a rather idlish manner, she looks back to Jaice, her gaze passing briefly over Morillin on the way. The fan is folded with a flick of her wrist, and tapped lightly against her chin.

Another glance exchanged with Maeve, and Jaice gets easily to her feet, the blue silk rustling about her legs. "There was; it was a twin of the one in the Tower." An arched brow is focused in Maeve's direction, questioning.

Morillin allows a tiny frown to crease her forehead as she, too, looks to Maeve. "Is it here?"

"A kind of... permanent gate, one might almost say, " Maeve muses thoughtfully, her grey eyes meeting Jaice's blue calmly for a moment only, a faint hesitation followed by a clear determination. Then it goes to those objects by the wall once again, and she inclines her head in a slight nod. "Not suitable for a dusty storage room, where anyone could stumble upon it."

It is only a blinking of the eyelashes that Jaice returns with her look to Maeve, but somehow one might suspect some silent communication was just passed. With a light rustle of skirts, Jaice makes her way to the two frames piled against the wall, each seemingly identical and standing high enough to reach a man's waist. One might also notice smaller bits of oddly-similar wood neatly placed beside them, but these Jaice ignores. With only a bit of effort she pulls forth one of the frames, tilts her head to inspect the back of it for something, and turns back to the group. "This was the ter'angreal in the storage room."

Morillin rises to her feet as well, stepping across the room to the mysterious objects. She looks down at the one Jaice holds, thoughtfully, then nudges the other with a slippered foot. "There are two here," she observes, lifting her eyes to Jaice. "Explain this."

Jaice clears her throat, momentarily ignoring the second frame that Morillin nudged. Instead, she turns the first around. "When I arrived, there was a sense of 'wrongness' about this one. Maeve and I inspected it later, once I had managed to find her, and we discovered this." Her lips can't help but curve into a wry smile at her next words, as she points out the scratches and few nails in the back of the object. "Whomever owns this took it for a true picture frame. When the other, linked one was triggered, it would deposit you in the location of this one; but one cannot use this one to get back to the first, as it was originally designed." Jaice adds by way of unneccessary explanation, "It's broken."

Morillin purses her lips as she examines the ter'angreal which Jaice holds. "I see," she finally says. "And this other?" She nudges it again with her foot. "Is this also a ter'angreal, or simply a picture frame?"

Jaice shakes her head, casting Maeve yet another imploring look. "Hem. No, no... that is definitely also a ter'angreal." Is it you, or does the Accepted look distinctly uncomfortable?

"And a broken ter'angreal..." Maeve shrughs her slender shoulders lightly, her faintly lop-sided smile distinctly wry. "Neither of us felt an urge to test it." She tries to act so perfecly nonchalant, so unconcerned, though from time to time the fact that she tries too hard shines through. Like when Morillin asks about the second frame. There's a momentary tension visible, and her masking of it is too obvious... for a little.

Morillin rests her hands on her hips and allows her shawl to loop itself over her elbows, glittering eyes shifting from Jaice to Maeve. "Stop sneaking glances at each other like a pair of fool Novices," she abruptly snaps in an icy tone. "Put that thing down, Accepted, and tell me what this second one is doing here. I very much doubt there was an identical copy simply lying about where the two of you could stumble over it."

Jaice clears her throat again, gently placing the first frame along the wall. She studiously avoids meeting the Aes Sedai's gaze, instead staring at the small bits of smoothed wood along the floor. "Ah... we... er, that is, I made it." Shooting the Aes Sedai a cautious glance, she hurries on with a bit of an explanation. "When we went to study it -- Maeve's project, when she was in the tower, was on doorway ter'angreal -- we... ah, there were 'lines' in it."

Morillin's eyebrows lift, but she doesn't look entirely surprised. "Did you make it yourself, Jaice, or did Maeve help you?" she asks quietly.

For a moment there, you could probably hear a pin drop, even on the carpeted floor of the sitting room. Maeve quite obviously misses a breath or two, though somehow manages to keep her expression perfectly calm, or stiff perhaps? Somehow, she finds her voice. "I studied ter'angreal more than Jaice did, and I did recall some of the lessons." Surprisingly smoothly spoken, though there's a hint of too much firmness to her tone.

Jaice stiffles a sigh only by pressing her lips together, her expression as stone-set as any Warder's. Finally she mutters in a small voice, "Maeve helped." She doesn't make any motion to look at her friend, her cheeks flushed.

OOC Note: For those that haven't caught on, the looks Jaice was exchanging with Maeve earlier were to find out if Maeve wanted it known that she helped make the ter'angreal, re: their earlier conversation. The looks said no. ;) )

A stray glance at Jaice's direction, as Maeve regains mobility, her poise once more growing almost laid-back. But now that is surely just a facade kept in place only by years of practicing it. Just like that look, which she gave her friend, likely wasn't more than a pretence at reassurance.

Morillin glances at Maeve, then down at the second ter'angreal. "You expect to be punished. Perhaps you should be, girl, if only for your insolent tongue. There is not, however, any law which says a woman outside the Tower cannot channel if she wishes to." She shakes her head slowly. "What you have done... both of you... is astonishing. I assume you chose not to test your creation?" That is directed to Jaice.

Jaice's dubious glance makes her seem to have forgotten Morillin, at least for the moment, and she misinterprets the Red's words. "It is not the punishment I am worried about, Aes Sedai." At that, she does manage to flash a genuinely apologetic look to Maeve, before gesturing to the frame at the wall. "We have been working at this solidly for... the last two weeks. These," and here she gestures idly to the bits on the floor, "Were for practice. But the reason we have not tried to use this yet is that... it still has some final touch-ups, for one, and being this is - ahem - rather an untried experiment in itself, it must be perfect before triggering it. Light knows what would happen if we had somehow missed something."

There is, for a moment, a look of... almost disbelief on Maeve's face, mingled with less pronounced relief. That kind of reaction seems to have been the last she expected, and for all that has happened today it is what takes her the longest to regain composure after. But, when she does, the effect is so much more convincing now, her air usual confidence firmly back in place. However, she still leaves the explaining to Jaice, casting the other woman yet another look, the calm quality of it more believable this time. "We didn't much like the idea of ourselves as... test objects, " is all she adds.

Jaice nods in affirmation to Maeve's words, her voice low. "And... given the uniqueness of this... ah... discovery, we were not sure what the consequences would be." One gets the sense by this Jaice means consequences for Maeve. Light knows it's natural for the two girls to wonder if Maeve would be hauled back to the Tower by her heels.

Morillin nods curtly. "Wise of you," she murmurs, "even if trying to make one at all was a foolish risk in the first place. You can be certain the Amyrlin will have some sharp words for you, Jaice, when you return. But then, innovation rarely follows caution, and this proves it." With another shake of her head, she adds, "If you possess some Talent with ter'angreal, Maeve, perhaps we were somewhat hasty in letting you go. The Amyrlin may well have you hauled back to Tar Valon by your heels as well." A tiny sliver of a smile emerges. "Would that not be an interesting turn of events?"

"Perhaps not so unique, " Maeve interjects, as if trying to brush the matter off, to make it seem almost trivial. "We looked for clues where, perhaps, no one simply has thought to look for a while." She reaches up to flick a stray lock of auburn hair out of her eyes, though lowers her hand more slowly than she raised it, no doubt because of Morillin's words. Even so, her reply is steady, there's even a faint ghost of a smile on her lips. "Hasty decisions are always regrettable, and rarely mendable." Grey eyes then find Jaice once again, "However, Jaice never was impulsive. The trip back to Tar Valon by... normal means, is a long one. And sometimes speed is desireable."

"There was some reason to think haste might be in order, Aes Sedai." A feeble excuse perhaps; but a valid one, if not the primary reason for their experimentation. "I am not sure either of us could have done this on our own, to be honest." She colours faintly again -- rare for this Atha'an Miere -- and shares a look with Maeve. "It took a lot of meshing of ideas. If I were simply to go back to the Tower, and Maeve here..." She merely shrugs.

Morillin sniffs. "No use falling over yourselves trying to explain why you did it. It is done. Both will be taken back to the Tower."

"I am sure that will please Diar, " Maeve comments, once more rather dryly. "He never liked the first frame, its twin even less." She, purposefully or not, interprets 'both' as meaning both the ter'angreal. And should that be wrong... well, she seems rather laidback about it, her shifts of mood as frequent as usual.

Jaice frowns confusedly, peering at the frames with one finger tapping against her chin. "How does one bring back both frames and still use it to get to the Tower?"

Morillin smirks. "I am not at all surprised you managed to drag that snivelling boy with you," she says to Maeve, cool amusement threaded into her soft voice. Then, turning to Jaice, she raises an eyebrow. "We have no need to return with any haste, Accepted. Do we?"

Jaice doesn't shift her gaze from the frame. "When I was... pulled... from the tower, the ill fortune in Tar Valon was so bad people were getting hurt by the score. Is it still?"

Morillin's mouth tightens once more, and she nods. "When we left, the situation was largely unchanged." She frowns slightly, then says, "Tell me. Do the words 'leaning ladder' mean something to either of you? Have you seen anything of the sort here in Cairhien?"

Celebril emerges from one of the guest rooms.

The ter'angreal, and any troubles it might bring, is quite thoroughly forgotten by Maeve, for a moment at least. Cold steel gleam bright in her eyes, a surge of anger barely held back building within her, yet somehow she manages to smile instead. Though, her voice, smooth as it may be, carries an edge of acidity. "Jealousy isn't becoming." That is all, at first, though as Morillin speaks once again, her gaze strays to Jaice, questioning now.

Wandering out from one of the guest rooms is a tall, blonde man in the garb of Andoran nobility--albeit rumpled, as if often the case when he wakes up without intent. His hair a bit mussed but his blue eyes alert, Celebril pauses just outside his door, and asks in irritation, "What's all the commotion about?"

The two women seem to have had some sort of silent conversation of looks the whole evening, and it doesn't stop now. But as Celebril appears from his doorway, Jaice's expression appears distinctly relieved. "Ah. Lord Celebril, good to see you here. This is Morillin Sedai, of the Red Ajah." Nice polite gestures of course, but she frowns in Maeve's direction, shrugging one shoulder almost imperceptibly.

Morillin gives Maeve a brief look, a raised eyebrow as if inquiring after the younger woman's temerity, until Celebril appears. Dark eyes narrow momentarily as she looks him over, and one side of her mouth twists sardonically. "My Lord," she murmurs coolly.

If this information from Jaice is any kind of warning, it doesn't reach Celebril's ears any more quickly than the sardonic look on Morilin's lips touches his eyes. The irony in his tone doubling that in her look, the young lord replies to the Aes Sedai in a light-hearted manner. "Charmed as always. The dress goes well with your hair, Aes Sedai."

"Celebril was kind enough to offer me assistance when I first arrived," Jaice says, though something in her tone might suggest there's a more somber version of that story that she's simply not telling.

"Celebril, " Maeve greets the new arrival, her smile all of a sudden much more pleasant... though it rhymes badly with how a glance of her darts off towards the stairs, almost nervously. No traces of such emotions remain, however, as it returns to the small gathering in the room. "We have... guests." The pause is impossible to miss.

Morillin gives the man a snort. "I am more than certain I can do without observations like that," she murmurs, already turning back to Jaice. "Assistance? How kind. One thing men are useful for, I suppose. Now... the ladder?"

"Red Ajah, Red Ajah," Celebril murmurs to himself, as if an aside upon the stage--yet his audience is the furniture, and the lamps, and the young women. "Let me see... ah, yes!" Refusing to be ignored, he leans over a chair, asking Morilin, "Aren't you the ones who eat men?"

Jaice clears her throat, leaning against the wall. "There's a tavern that Maeve and I happened to stop at the other day called the Leaning Ladder." Her last word comes out in a startled cough, and she blinks surprisedly, several times, at Celebril.

Morillin slowly turns her head to look at Celebril with cold, flat eyes. "I will not tolerate rudeness," she informs him quietly. "Least of all from a boy like you."

It takes a moment or two before Maeve catches the invisible ball passed over to her by Jaice, the reason of course being Celebril's comment. Her smile grows oh so slyly amused, and it is clear she can barely keep from adding her own observations on the subject. In the end, she falls for the temptation. "If it only was that well." The next moment her smile grows more reserved once again, and she glances over at Jaice before going on, on another subject. "Ahh, yes... as in the foretelling. And as it turned out, a possible solution was indeed nearby. You can make some fabulous bargains in antique shops."

[Channeling] Morillin embraces saidar and weaves Air at Celebril, like a switch.

Stifling a yawn, Celebril arches a lazy eyebrow, fixing the Aes Sedai woman with a frankly appraising gesture. Suddenly, he winces, as if hit from behind, then flashes a wry grin. "I think I'll go stew in my room now," he quips, "With the carrots.. and onions... come check on me in a few hours, girls," he instructs Jaice and Maeve before quite gladly returning to bed.

Celebril has left.

[Channeling] Morillin releases the Source, after a moment.

Jaice sniffs at Maeve's words. "Bargains." It's easy to suspect Jaice would just as rather this all had happened to someone other than her. As she feels the shimmering sensation of channelling nearby she frowns, casting first Celebril and then the Aes Sedai a wondering look. "Hm."

Morillin runs her hands through her hair, slowly. "You will get the same, if I hear one more word from you that I dislike," she says to Maeve, calmly. "I was hoping even you would know better than to cross me more than once. Especially with things as they now are." Giving her shawl a twitch, she suddenly snaps at Jaice, "Explain yourself, girl, rather than dancing about. There is a tavern, you say. What do you know of the foretelling?"

"Just might do that," Maeve says to Celebril's back, just before the door closes, though she does not take her eyes off Morillin for a moment, cold disapproval in her eyes... and then amusement again, her smile once more tinged with something feral. "Especially? The way things are now, I think not." Her temper has, obviously, been tested about as much as it can take. However, glancing at Jaice again, she shrugs it all off.

"I was there," Jaice blinks surprisedly. "So was Celebril. Trelaine had the fortelling -- I didn't remember much of it until Maeve and I happened to wander into the tavern for a cool drink." Amazing coincidences, all of them, but Jaice seems oblivious of this as she speaks. "Something about 'across from a Leaning Ladder, in a place of the sun' and 'found by one of the Tower and one not of' and..." Shrugging, the girl frowns puzzledly at Maeve again. "Well, we snuck into the Antique shop that was across from it -- Maeve, would you tell the rest?" By the strained look about Jaice's eyes she's likely had enough of being interrogated for one day.

Kyra has arrived.

As Kyra is shown in, Morillin can be seen standing next to two very large and very identical picture frames; Jaice is standing near her looking rather tired, and Maeve is sitting on one of the couches.

"Before I retire, I suppose I can fit that in. Its strenous to... entertain guests." Maeve settles her arms upon the sides of her chair, slender fingers tapping lightly the soft fabric clothing them. "The owner seemed to be a collector with... interesting taste. A letter, telling of the use of a certain ter'angreal, and a claim that he'd sold one, and kept a piece of a similar for himself." She pauses for a moment, then shrugs ever so casually. "We found the piece, and since it seemed like it might be connected with matterns in Tar Valon, we... borrowed the letter and the ter'angreal fragment." Hearing the door open behind her, by that maid Diar insisted on on hiring, she glances over the back of her chair, her face registering only minor surprise at Kyra's entry.

Leonine strides carry Kyra through and past whoever just showed her into the room. Shoving a stray lock of dark hair from her eye - it's been a long walk around the city - she nods with a quirked grin. "Peace favour you all. Seems you've had quite a time in this... interesting city."

Morillin turns from Maeve as Kyra enters, folding her arms under her breasts when she sees who it is. "I am glad to see you, sister," she says, inclining her head to the other Aes Sedai. "Quite a time indeed. These two are bursting with little surprises for us."

Kyra's quirked brow accompanies the grin. "Really? Well considering who it is, imagine my surprise." She quips drolly, taking a stance that seems casually relaxed - her staff leaning casually in one hand.

Morillin's quiet sniff might be agreement...it's hard to say. Looking back at Maeve, she says, "So you possess this ter'angreal fragment?"

Jaice nods, stiffling a sigh only with a minute pressing of her lips. "This collector kept good records; in his letter to the man he sold the ter'angreal to, he said not to remove the top or... well, that it would be 'more trouble than we historians need' or some such. He said that if it happens, replace the top immediately, but that the whole thing would... melt together and become useless. As Maeve said, he had aquired over the years a second 'top' to another ter'angreal that apparently was hinted at. I do not think this collector was involved; his letter seemed harmless enough, and he said to send for that top should it be needed." The young woman leans wearily against the wall, annoyance at the whole situation showing only in the crease between her brows. As Kyra enters, she pauses long enough to say, "Welcome, Aes Sedai." They may have been friends as Accepteds, but Kyra had long been raised to the shawl.

"Jaice, a glad sight to see you safe." Kyra returns the greeting - her manner towards the former fellow Accepted largely unchanged. But no time for that now, she's walked into the middle of what sounds like a report. So she just lounges as well as one can upright and listens.

A smooth inclination of her head is all the greeting Maeve spares for Kyra, her mood isn't amiable whatever she might act like, and then she nods thoughtfully to Jaice's explanation, adding after a moment a reply to Morillin's query. "It is, unless I recall wrongly, in Jaice's room at the moment." She rises then, with her usual smoothness and ease, turning to her friend. "It is getting late, about the time when Diar generally reappears." A hint of worry there, or perhaps amusement. Hard to tell, in truth.

Morillin nods curtly, in satisfaction. Turning back to Kyra, she says, "We have what we were sent to find, it seems. Not only Jaice, but the potential key to ending the current strife in Tar Valon." A quick glance to the frames leaning against the wall beside her, then, "And the means to carry that key to the Tower swiftly, perhaps."

"Diar is not altogether comfortable with items such as ter'angreal in the same room he is," Jaice says by way of explanation as Maeve notes the location of the ter'angreal fragment. As her good friend turns to go upstairs, Jaice nods to her, her gaze telling much more than her simple words. "You are off for the night, then?"

Kyra gives a noncommittal grunt in answer, now turning that curious steel gaze towards the frames Morillin just indicated. "Ter'angreal and more, eh?" she asks the Red Sister. "I'll have to ask its workings some other time as I seem to have caught the tail end of this report."

Morillin smiles faintly. "I will be returning to the inn to find Coliena. If you wish, I will tell you on the way."

"They are linked to one in the Tower basement," Jaice says, as though that explains everything. She looks from one Aes Sedai to the other, as though curious as to what they intend.

"Its best that way, Jaice. If you'd happen to be here still when he arrives --" Maeve pauses for a moment, looking more uncertain than she has done for the whole evening, then shrughs lightly. "-- tell him I am waiting upstairs." She ignores Kyra and Morillin now, giving Jaice an apologetic look. However, the casual 'Good night' seems meant for most of the room, said just as she starts on the stairs up.

Kyra nods towards Morillin's offer and for Jaice's comment. "Hmm. Interesting. That will be a tale worth the hearing, Sister." She turns to Jaice. "You tired or... something." There's a question there, of course.

Jaice clears her throat after watching Maeve disappear up the stairs. "Have you all heard from the nobles yet?" By that question, one might assume she and Maeve have; and by the rumours circulating around Cairhien, no two versions of which are anywhere remotely the same, the Nobles have had little better to do than talk about this very household.

"Nobles?" Kyra asks, "What of them?" A careful schooling of her face to something not quite so amiable. More bland really.

Morillin sighs. "Sister, I am returning to the inn. I must find Coliena at once."

Kyra nods to Morillin's signal of departure. "I'll be there presently. It depends on when I overstay my invitation here." That quirk of a smile creeps back just for kicks.

Whether it is Jaice's long stay in Cairhien or simply her level of weariness, Jaice seems not to linger much on formality tonight. A few steps take her to a comfortable seat on the couch, and the new-hired maid is already standing by the door ready for Morillin's departure. "I assume we will be meeting again tomorrow, Morillin Sedai?" Her questioning glance takes in both Aes Sedai, despite who it's aimed toward.

Morillin nods to Kyra, then to Jaice. "Most certainly, child. Now, I must go. Light illumine you both."

Kyra remains standing, content to lounge with her staff that way. "Peace favour you, Sister."

"You're tired," Kyra states almost flatly when the Red Sister vacates the room. "I can leave as well, it's just that I'm still curious..." She tilts her head for question on that, Borderlander courtesy still very much a part of her manner.

Jaice hardly seems like the woman you knew at the tower, in the flowing blue silks she is currently wearing in place of an Accepted dress. "No, no..." The Atha'an Miere woman shakes her head, long braids trailing forward over her shoulder as she settles herself on the couch. "It is all right." Her calm blue eyes study you a moment, her demeanor more relaxed now that Morillin is gone. "I had not seen you since you were Raised," she says finally. "It suits you well."

With a grin, Kyra sweeps an almost courtly bow - except that she was hardly raised in court, it's more appropriate for the Cairhien nobility. "Yes, it seems you've been adventuring since my acquiring the Shawl. It's been years since I was allowed to don the clothes of my nature. It's comfortable." With that, she strides for an open seat. "Cairhien has been entertaining you adequately so I hear?"

Jaice snorts softly, shaking her head not in denial, but in disbelief of everything that's happened. "Every day there are more gifts and invitations from the Nobility; we refused most, but attended a few; the Bortawins among them." A wry smile sets upon her lips as she adds, "They asked me to mention that." She does not mention that likely they thought her Aes Sedai, as well. "It has all been just so... dreamlike." That blue gaze takes in the frames and bits of wood stacked against the far wall, just for a moment.

Kyra chuckles indulgently, taking a moment to lean her companion staff nearby and within easy reach. "Courtesy from Cairhienin. At least some have the trait. Bortawin eh? The name sounds vaguely familiar. Weren't they in Tar Valon recently?" She finds that she's leaning on her own braid on the back of her chosen chair and so moves it to drape over one shoulder. "There were a few other names I seem to remember..."

Jaice nods slowly. "I did not want to be caught up in Daes Dae'mar -- Maeve and I would have rather spent the time working on the ter'angreal -- but apparently there was use for it, so Diar says." A wrinkled nose shows her opinion of that, but she admits, "I found myself trying to remember everything Atalanta taught about it."

"So Tower lessons become useful after all," she observes casually, that hint of amusement in voice as well as in smile. "You know that's an old Talent you seem to have discovered." Ter'angreal making of course. "Unless I miss my guess, it's not been seen in a number of generations"

Jaice sighs softly, nodding. "Maeve has studied Ter'angreal history a bit; it's been lost for over three thousand years." Since the Breaking. Jaice doesn't seem altogether thrilled with having found it again, either.

Kyra ahhs, nodding in vague agreement. "I knew it was something like that. I remember running across that somewhere during my research." With a shrug - one that settles her more comfortably in the chair - she studies something on the ceiling. "Well the Browns will have a field day trying to pry into that Talent of yours. I don't envy you its discovery." She tacks on the last with a wry but sympathetic chuckle. "You sound as if you've had enough of Cairhien."

"It's not Cairhien that I've had enough of so much as... everything that has happened -in- Cairhien." She narrows her gaze at you then, her brows furrowed intently. "Have you ever felt like... like a fish on a hook?" Trust Jaice to come up with a water analogy. "You swim and swim in the direction you want to go, but you keep getting tugged off somewhere else?"

Kyra chuckles something close to a sarcastic snicker. "Perhaps the Tower training and my previous profession?" she volunteers, the jest clear in both tone and countenance. Calming herself to something less controversial of a reaction coming from an Aes Sedai, "Needless to say I have an understanding of what you're talking about."

Jaice shakes her head, not showing any overt indication whether she's heard you or not. "I do not feel as though I have much control over what happens to me these days," she sighs. "But, one bails the boat and sails on, if it pleases the Light." Her gaze focuses on you then, curious. "What are the plans, for the next few days?"

Kyra contemplates on that one for a bit, massaging her jaw as she does so. "Well, since we've found you, thus fulfilling our mission, we should be heading back to the Tower. What's this part about getting back to the Tower faster though?" The frames get another glance - she didn't miss it before, just clarification.

Jaice, this time, tells a shortened version of the story. "One of those ter'angreal is broken; someone took it for a real picture frame and tried to put nails in the back. They severed the 'lines' in it that make it what it is. The second frame is the one Maeve and I made; it is a copy, except where the lines are severed in the first, they are whole. So... that one, when triggered, should create a doorway into the basement of the Tower."

"Well travelling should be made easy then," the Green Sedai observes. "I'm sure Mother will want to have you back in the Tower to ascertain for herself that you're fine." The Amyrlin? A personal touch? If anything, it's likely an extension of Kyra's own mindset. "This Cairhien is strange. You can't breathe but have half the city knowing what you've done a moment later."

Jaice snorts softly. "Sometimes I wonder if the other houses send people to watch us; there seem to be more rumours every day."

"From what I understand, that's probably what they do," Kyra gesticulates vaguely into the air - probably meant to encompass the city outside the room. "I can't profess to understand it all. Shienar never found a use for such games. Men and women were wont to speak plain and to the purpose." Kyra's opinion on which is better is likely evident.

A light chuckle escapes Jaice and she regards you with newfound curiousity. "I know you are Aes Sedai now... and it is probably improper to ask... but is that why the Amyrlin sent you? To immerse you in the Game of Houses?"

Kyra purses her lips in contemplation of the ceiling again. "'Experience in the field' was the phrase I heard." Apparently she finds no direct affront in the question. "I'm sure that encompasses the entirety of Mother's intent, though its specifics escape me. It's been a learning experience I suppose. I've learned that Aes Sedai can't move around Cairhien without the city abuzz with every minute detail of their whereabouts." She scoffs comment on that - she's content to mind her business.

"Mrm," Jaice murmurs tiredly, her gaze focused on the table. "I can vouch for that." Sure she can -- half the Houses in Cairhien think the Tower sent a representative in an Accepted's dress to show its displeasure toward Cairhienin nobility. "They read mounds into the tiniest gesture."

Kyra laughs, the sound abrupt into the gathering stillness between spoken word. "Then gesture grandly, my friend. It confuses them. Or at the very least, it gives them too much to chew on for one sitting and mayhaps they'll wander away for a bit to gather their thoughts and theories." She flings an arm out to demonstrate, open-handed - pauses - then closes the hand into a fist and lowers her arm back to the armrest.