#but Moiraine accepts that he will stick with her whatever happens

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 17

In which Cadsuane and Perrin discover the value of introspection

Chapter 17: Questions of Control

Hello Semirhage.

“You should be more careful,” Sarene said from inside the room. “The Amyrlin seat, we have much influence with her.”

…Really? The first oath allows you to say that? Because um…no, you have virtually no influence with either of the claimants to the Amyrlin Seat at this point.

Also that is never going to work on Semirhage, so you may as well save your breath.

Light only knew what would happen if Semirhage got free.

Oh don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll never find out, and there’s absolutely no reason whatsoever to be concerned…

Cadsuane clearly doesn’t think much of Sarene’s line of questioning either. Nor does she think much of Sarene. Or any of the other Aes Sedai sworn to Rand. But that’s hardly news.

At times, it seemed that half of her allies were only determined to make her job harder.

That goes for pretty much the entire side of the Light, really. They’d do a lot better if they all stopped getting in each other’s way and learned how to cooperate.

Cadsuane herself had yet to address any questions to the Forsaken personally. The other Aes Sedai looked at her as an almost mythic figure, a reputation she had nurtured. She’d stayed away from the White Tower for many decades at a time, ensuring that many would assume she was dead. When she reappeared, it made a stir. She’d gone hunting false Dragons, both because it was necessary and because each man she captured added to her reputation with the other Aes Sedai.

Whatever else she is, Cadsuane is remarkably self-aware. And she makes no apologies for who she is. She tries to see people as they are, and she extends that same scrutiny to herself, and for the most part she’s good at accepting the unvarnished truth. She’s wrong sometimes, but overall she doesn’t lie to herself nearly as much as most.

And this is definitely here to bring back the notion of similarity between Cadsuane and Semirhage. Which is an interesting one to think about – there absolutely are some similarities, but there are some fairly obvious differences as well, and I always enjoy that kind of setup where you can find the common points but also look at where they diverge and why and how.

Also, Moiraine is going to end up with a similar reputation if she comes out of this whole thing alive. Spending long periods of time away from the Tower, torching Forsaken, missing presumed dead but actually in an alternate dimension…oh, and that little thing about finding the Dragon Reborn. Have fun being a legend!

All of her work pointed at these final days.

So there’s one point of difference. Cadsuane may well have started building her reputation purely to satisfy her ego, but she seems now to use it more as another tool in her arsenal as she works towards accomplishing her goals. That’s not to say she doesn’t have an ego, or that that doesn’t still play a part in it, but her focus at least now is on the world, and specifically on the Dragon Reborn. She said as much to Rand, even, constrained by the three oaths: “Whatever I do, it will be for your own good; not mine, not the good of the White Tower, yours.” It’s an opinion statement, so the three oaths don’t guarantee that everything she does will be good for him, but it’s pretty clear on her intentions. She’s not in this primarily for herself. Semirhage, on the other hand, very much is.

She was slowly losing control, thread by thread. Once, something as dramatic as the squabbles at the White Tower would have drawn her immediate attention. But she couldn’t begin to work on that problem. Creation itself was unravelling, and her only way to fight that was to return all her efforts on al’Thor.

And he resisted her every attempt to aid him. Step by step he was becoming a man with insides like stone, unmoving and unable to adapt. A statue with no feelings could not face the Dark One.

Once again she’s spot-on with her assessment of the situation; where she potentially errs is in her approach to addressing the problems she’s identified.

This touches on one of the things that I most enjoy about Cadsuane: she’s a flawed character whose flaws do not render her incompetent or ‘evil’, and yet are not mere token flaws but instead are believable and integral parts of her character. It’s a surprisingly difficult balance to strike with any character, but especially with one as experienced, intelligent, and powerful as Cadsuane is. The balance of partially-antagonistic-but-not-evil is another difficult one to pull off. In combination, it makes her an impressive and rather fascinating character.

Often, in order to create character flaws, drive conflict, and/or make The Hero look good, a character is rendered incompetent (either permanently or momentarily) in a particular area. Too often, this is done in a way that strains suspension of disbelief, or else is just cliché, frustrating, or transparent.

Side characters suffer from this far more often than protagonists – though protagonists are absolutely susceptible – in part because protagonists are a little easier to believably flaw. They’re frequently young, which means things like lack of experience are perfectly believable and legitimate sources of conflict or difficulty. Otherwise, they’re competent in many areas but then dropped into a story they’re wholly unprepared for. They’re also in the spotlight more and often are the primary viewpoint, which can help convey more nuance.

Cadsuane, though, is about as prepared for the Last Battle as anyone of this Age could be. She’s also got a whole host of admirable traits, and knows how to use them. She’s out of her depth only by virtue of the fact that the apocalypse is a little over any non-deity’s paygrade. This, then, all makes her prime villain material – or at the very least, prime antagonist material. Yet she is neither. She leans towards antagonistic at times, but she’s on The Hero’s team and is actively trying to help him, and he respects her even if he doesn’t like her or agree with her.

At this point, if we can’t make her incompetent and we can’t make her evil – or at the very least an obstacle that must be overcome – we have to kill her. She’s the instigator, the Wise Mentor, the ‘there’s the plotroad and here’s the map, now go fuck things up and have an adventure’ character who knows too much and can do too much that they’d break the story if they stick around because what would the heroes do?

Except…she’s not. She’s flawed in such a way that allows her to avoid all of these pitfalls. She’s good at just about everything she does, and she’s good at reading situations and she knows a hell of a lot, but sometimes that’s not enough. Her judgement is sound but her mindset is not perfect, and so you get these interesting situations where her approaches make a great deal of sense, but that doesn’t guarantee that they’ll work, or that she’s made the right choice. And there’s all kinds of conflict that stems from this as well, obviously, especially between her and Rand.

Not to mention the whole issue of morality that comes in where Cadsuane is concerned. It frequently comes down to the question of whether or not the ends justify the means, except then the means only partially succeed, or even fail outright, so it’s more whether or not the aims justify the means.

Anyway, Cadsuane fascinates me as a character. I love characters who inhabit their roles ever so slightly differently than the archetypes say they should, or who raise these sorts of moral questions without necessarily answering them.

Cadsuane itched to go in and confront the woman, but Merise had asked the very questions Cadsuane would have, and she had failed. How long would Cadsuane’s image remain intact if she proved herself as impotent as the others?

It’s a valid question. Again, not purely for selfish purposes, but because Cadsuane’s image is a tool she relies on, and if she breaks it, there would likely be more consequences than simple humiliation.

“Aes Sedai?” Semirhage responded, chuckling. “Don’t you feel ashamed, using that term to describe yourselves? Like a puppy calling itself a wolf!”

“We may not know everything, I admit, but—”

“You know nothing,” Semirhage replied. “You are children playing with your parents’ toys.”

Well she’s not entirely wrong.

She’s not entirely right, true – the Aes Sedai of this Age have discovered some things that were unknown or believed impossible even in Semirhage’s time – but…she’s not entirely wrong.

Cadsuane tapped the side of her tea cup with her index finger. Again, she was struck by the similarities between herself and Semirhage – and again, those similarities made her insides itch.

It’s a really interesting inversion of the classic villain-delivered ‘we’re not so different, you and I’. I really like this whole train of thought, and the way Cadsuane is uncomfortable with it but also forces herself to think about it and figure out how it can be used.

Semirhage throws her food. Semirhage you are three thousand, not three.

They were all so jumpy around the Forsaken. They weren’t deferential, but they did treat Semirhage with a measure of respect. How could they not? She was a legend. One did not enter the presence of such a creature – one of the most evil beings ever to live – and not feel at least a measure of awe.

Measure of awe…

“That’s our mistake,” Cadsuane whispered.

Sorilea all but told you that. Semirhage is human. And if you’re hesitant or visibly afraid or – especially – visibly in awe, the balance of power in the room is virtually never going to be in your favour.

And of course, nearly everyone Cadsuane interacts with regards her with a measure of awe, so she has some experience of how it feels to be on that end of things. That’s certainly something she can use – because one accustomed to being viewed and treated that way may well be shaken by someone who doesn’t treat them so.

It all came back to a single question. How would Cadsuane break herself? The solution was easy, now that it had occurred to her.

Once more with the unflinching self-analysis and self-awareness. How would you break yourself? It’s not a particularly comfortable question to address. Amongst other things, it requires honestly acknowledging vulnerability, which is hard for anyone and especially for someone like Cadsuane, who is regarded as legendary. Not to mention the fact that by acting on any solution, she would be showing others how to break her, should anyone else see the same similarity between them.

“Ah,” Cadsuane said with a no-nonsense attitude. “I see that the child has refused her meal. Sarene, release your weaves.”

Semirhage raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to scoff, but as Sarene released her weaves of Air, Cadsuane grabbed Semirhage by the hair and –with a casual sweep of her foot – knocked the woman’s legs out from beneath her, dropping her to the floor.

And, at least momentarily, definitely upsetting the balance of power. It’s abrupt and it’s surprising and it’s unlike anything Semirhage has likely experienced from just about anyone.

Prior to now, everyone Semirhage has interacted with – including most of the other Forsaken – has been a little afraid of her, and she knows it. So she can stand here confident in her superiority and secure in the knowledge that none of these Aes Sedai can do anything to her. Except Cadsuane shows up and completely breaks that pattern, introducing at least a moment of doubt or uncertainty. After so long of being able to probably predict fairly accurately how everyone would respond to her, Semirhage may not have even thought to prepare for this sort of approach. Because as far as she’s concerned it isn’t possible, especially in this Age.

In saying that, I’m reminded of Elaida last chapter. So certain of her place and of how things would go that she could be shaken by a well-aimed and entirely unexpected attack.

Cadsuane hasn’t won yet, of course, but she’s changed the game. Now, like Egwene, she has to make sure she presses the advantage before Semirhage can recover.

Cadsuane knelt down with one knee on the woman’s back, then shoved her face forward into the spilled food. “Eat,” she said. “I don’t approve of wasted food, child, particularly during these times.”

Quite literally pressing the advantage, it would seem.

I am intrigued by how this parallels Egwene’s confrontation of Elaida last chapter, but with the small reversal of how ‘child’ is used. Last chapter, Elaida was casually dismissing Egwene as a novice, as ‘child’, as insignificant, and that underestimation became Elaida’s vulnerability. Here, Cadsuane holds the rough analogue of Egwene’s position as far as roles in the confrontation go, but is using ‘child’ and the whole idea of underestimation as a weapon.

Semirhage is…not best pleased. And is swearing up a storm, but sadly Elayne is not there to learn the words.

[Semirhage] didn’t fight back. Cadsuane wouldn’t have either; that would only hurt her image.

I like that Cadsuane is continuing to approach this as she would approach breaking herself. She knows how she would react to certain things, and so that gives her a slight advantage in that she can at least sort of predict what Semirhage will do. And therefore how to proceed.

They had tried all measure of torture available to them under al’Thor’s requirements, but each of those had betrayed esteem. They were treating Semirhage as a dangerous force and a worthy enemy. That would only bolster her ego.

Indeed. And I think it probably goes beyond that; it’s an ego thing, of course, but to be stripped of it is quite likely one of the few things that could potentially frighten Semirhage. Her reputation and the fear and awe and respect accorded to her by everyone else help to make her invincible. And so long as people continue to respond to her that way, she knows she has power over them, and she knows how to play them. But when someone treats her as Cadsuane just has, without showing any trace of fear, I think on some level she might fear why Cadsuane is so comfortable. Why is she not afraid?  What does Cadsuane have, or know, that lets her disregard one such as Semirhage? The surprise is part of it, and the…humiliation I guess, is part of it, but I also think the uncertainty Cadsuane’s actions must cause is a part of it as well. If you aren’t sure where you stand, you can’t be sure you’re invulnerable anymore.

“Are you going to eat?” Cadsuane asked.

“I will kill you,” Semirhage said calmly.

OH MAN this is excellent. Ah, what a response. I love her. I love this. Semirhage may have been momentarily shaken by Cadsuane – literally and psychologically – but she’s not going to break quite that easily. Still, while the delivery is calm, it’s not the most creative of Semirhage’s threats. She’s using what she’s used before on all the rest of them, to shake them, but I don’t think that’s going to work on Cadsuane. Not now that Cadsuane has determined to follow through with this approach.

Still, “I will kill you” delivered flatly as a response, especially when in a position of any vulnerability whatsoever, is a Thing that I enjoy. (And yes, if you’ve read Mistborn Secret History and you thought of that one conversation, you’re right, it does indeed kill me every single time).

“I see,” Cadsuane replied. “Sarene, go tell the three Sisters outside to come in.” Cadsuane paused, thoughtful. “Also, I saw some maids cleaning rooms on the other side of the hallway. Fetch them for me as well.”

Does…she want an audience? To completely ignore Semirhage’s reputation herself is one thing, but if she can destroy it in front of everyone else, all the others who previously feared her and looked at her as a legend, all those who play any part in keeping her prisoner…

As they entered, Cadsuane used her threads of Air to turn Semirhage around across her knee. And then she proceeded to spank the Forsaken.

That’s one way to do it, I suppose. It’s certainly not something Semirhage would ever have even thought to expect – though really she should have if she’s read the rest of the series – and it absolutely serves the purpose of demeaning her in front of a crowd of people who once were in awe of her.

Really, I think the only thing keeping me from enjoying this as much as I otherwise might have is the fact that there’s just so much spanking in these books, and sometimes in ways that I find either awkward or uncomfortable. It doesn’t help that I find the whole idea of spanking kind of…weird and vaguely discomfiting – not in the sexual sense; if it’s someone’s kink I can respect that and I’m not judging, but otherwise it’s just…I don’t know. I think in that regard it’s an issue of different times/upbringings/cultural and social contexts/etc between me and Robert Jordan. So, okay.

But in this scene, I can absolutely see the rationale behind it, and as an approach it makes a lot of sense. And sure, there are other ways to accomplish the same effect, but I suppose in the context of this world and story, this probably is the first and most efficient way that would occur to Cadsuane or someone in her position.

Semirhage’s threats turned to howls of outrage and pain. The serving girl with the food returned in the middle of it, adding even more to Semirhage’s shame. The Aes Sedai watched with slack jaws.

So the comparison my brain provided here was Egwene meeting her toh to the Wise Ones. Being spanked in front of a group of onlookers, thus enduring both pain and shame. But in Egwene’s case, it was about restoring her honour and her standing amongst them, and thus was a scene of triumph. This, though it looks almost identical, is exactly the opposite. It’s about humiliation, and about stripping Semirhage of all honour and standing amongst those who watch, and thus is a scene of defeat.

Given my love of parallels and inversions, it should come as no surprise that I really like this notion of two scenes that look almost the same, but serve nearly opposite purposes.

“Now,” Cadsuane said after a few moments, breaking into one of Semirhage’s howls of pain. “Will you eat?”

“I’ll find everyone you’ve ever loved,” the Forsaken said, tears in her eyes, “I’ll feed them to each other while you watch. I’ll—”

If there were an award for most creative and unsettling threats, I think Semirhage would win. Especially if we can add in such statements as “enough to cover the whole Crystal Throne” which may not precisely be a threat but who cares, it’s close enough.

Though. Having said that. She may face some competition from Mazrim “Kneel and swear to the Lord Dragon. Or you will be knelt” Taim. Because you have to award points for shiver-inducing semantics.

The crowd in the room watched in amazed silence. Semirhage began to cry – not from the pain, but from the humiliation. That was the key. Semirhage could not be defeated by pain or by persuasion – but destroying her image, that would be more terrible in her mind than any other punishment. Just as it would have been for Cadsuane.

And Cadsuane has exposed a certain degree of vulnerability in herself by doing this. Not overtly, because you’d have to understand her and also what she’s doing well enough to realise that the same sort of thing would work on her, but she has exposed it. Which takes guts.

As for the rest…yes. It is entirely about humiliation and shame and being made helpless while her reputation as something more – and more terrifying – than merely human is shattered in front of everyone watching. Not just in front of witnesses, but in front of people Semirhage considered so far beneath her as to barely even register. It’s a very long way to fall.

For some reason, though, the image of Semirhage crying tries my suspension of disbelief a bit. I’m not entirely sure why, and I don’t think it would work as well if she didn’t, because the whole point is that Cadsuane is breaking that image and everything that goes with it, but it still feels weird. Maybe I just like Semirhage too much.

Actually no, I think I do know what it is. In which case, it’s just me, carry on.

Cadsuane stilled her hand after a few more minutes, releasing the weaves that held Semirhage motionless. “Will you eat?” she asked.

“I—”

Cadsuane raised her hand, and Semirhage practically leapt off of her lap and scrambled onto the floor, eating the beans.

This feels too abrupt. And yes, I fully acknowledge how ridiculous a statement that is when this is book 12 of 14, but it still feels like it happened a bit too quickly. It feels as if this scene only made it halfway from outline to fully formed chapter, in places.

Oh well. I don’t mind all that much; I’d rather this scene be less than absolutely stellar than other more ‘major’ scenes. And I like a lot of the concepts in this one, particularly the way Cadsuane uses this comparison between herself and Semirhage – she’s not entirely exempt from her own ruthless pragmatism, as it turns out – and how the idea of image and perception is played with here. It’s something the series as a whole has frequently dealt with, in variations, and it’s something I will almost always enjoy.

And now we’re with Perrin. That’s an odd jump, but sure.

Perrin had time. Time to rest, time to limp away, time – he’d hoped – to use gateways to trasnport away most of these refugees.

Time to rest? Perrin. There are two and a half books left. Of fourteen. You’re not going to have time to rest today, or maybe ever.

Thousands upon thousands of people, a nightmare to coordinate and administer to.

I misread that at first as a listing of responsibilities. 1: thousands of people. 2: gotta do some maintenance on that nightmare I’ve been working on.

Why this seemed like a logical reading of that sentence, I have no idea. Thanks, brain.

But Perrin knew he couldn’t push aside his problems for long. Rand pulled him northward. Perrin had to march for the Last Battle. Nothing else mattered.

Nothing else mattered? Where have we heard that before…

Though this time, he’s far closer to being right. Still, it’s perhaps not the greatest attitude to have. Just look at Rand.

(In fairness, in Rand’s case it isn’t just single-minded focus so much as single-minded focus plus a dead man’s memories plus evil stabbings that won’t heal plus (minus?) a missing hand plus being locked in a box plus trusting no one plus that small matter of being responsible for the fate of the world. To name but a few).

And yet, that very single-mindedness in him – ignoring everything but his objective – had been the source of much trouble during his hunt for Faile. He had to find a balance, somehow. He needed to decide for himself if he wanted to lead these people. He needed to make peace with the wolf inside himself, the beast that raged when he went into battle.

HOLY SHIT.

SOMEONE GET THE CONFETTI.

HE’S FIGURED IT OUT.

Yes, Perrin. That’s exactly it. Find a balance, make peace with yourself, accept it, and take that into the Last Battle. Rather than approaching it with that focus that shuts everything else out, approach it as willingly as you can (it’s Armageddon, so ‘willing’ is sort of relative). And he’s finally realising that. Realising that if he tries to use it as essentially an excuse to not think, and to hold everything else at bay, he’s just setting himself up for failure. Instead, he needs to find a balance and open himself up to these things he’s been avoiding or trying to deny. The Last Battle isn’t really something you can do halfheartedly, and single-minded focus doesn’t feel halfhearted, but it’s another side of the same coin in a way. It’s a limitation and a handicap, creating division or barriers when really he’s going to need everything he can possibly get. And for that, he needs to accept what those things are, and who he is. And accept that he can be that person.

Grady is too tired to make gateways. That’s not ideal.

Light, but I used this man too hard, Perrin thought. Him and Neald both. That had been another effect of Perrin’s single-mindedness, as he was beginning to see. What he’d done to Aram, how he’d allowed those around him to go without leadership…I have to fix this.

I love all of this. I don’t mind that it’s happening quickly and fairly bluntly, because actually that’s kind of Perrin’s way. Also, he spent the last several books building to this point by doing exactly what he’s now criticising himself for. And then that task was finished and everything just…stopped, and he didn’t know what to do and tried to find some way to avoid all these thoughts catching up with him. But now they have caught up, and he can’t turn away from it anymore, and this brief pause is both forcing and allowing him to look back on those weeks and understand, with all the wisdom of hindsight, what it was that he was doing and the harm it did to himself and others. And to learn from it.

Ah, character growth. This is so satisfying.

And it’s the sort of thing Rand is going to have to face and recognise as well – perhaps not the same exact idea of balance; that has always seemed to be more Perrin’s struggle, what with the man-versus-wolf, violence-versus-gentleness, strength-versus-caution, axe-versus-hammer dualities he’s had to contend with – because he, too, is hurting himself and others in the way he’s allowing his focus on Tarmon Gai’don to take everything else from him. Including such things as his humanity and the very reason he’s fighting at all.

Oops, Perrin can’t send all the refugees home. And some of them – lots of them? – don’t want to go home or don’t have a home to go to. Looks like your kingdom and army are growing, Perrin. Sorry about that.

He took his enhanced senses for granted, now.

That’s almost acceptance. This is good progress.

To them, Perrin Goldeneyes wasn’t a person to fear, but one to respect

I suppose in this, it’s a fitting companion section to the first half of the chapter. Image and reputation and the realities thereof. Not to mention a rather impressive level of self-analysis from both Perrin and Cadsuane.

Had they forgotten that Perrin had grown up with them? What of the times when Jori had made sport of Perrin’s slow tongue, or the times when he’d stopped by the forge to brag about which girls he’d managed to steal a kiss from?

Here, too, it fits well with the previous section, in that it’s once more an inversion. Semirhage goes from being regarded as a legend, as something more than human, as someone to be feared and respected, to being seen as just another person. Meanwhile this shows how Perrin has gone from being just another person, just another member of the group, to being someone worthy of honour and respect, someone set above the rest.

As for the ‘human’ thing…well, let’s maybe not bring that up around Perrin just now. Don’t want to push it.

Sometimes, Perrin wondered if his senses weren’t actually any better than anyone else’s. He took the time to notice things that others ignored.

… ‘I will remember those who have been forgotten’, Sanderson? ‘I will listen to those who have been ignored’?

I like this, though. It’s very Perrin, and while he does have super special wolf senses, he’s also absolutely right that he takes time to notice things. It’s the gentle, careful, methodical aspect of him. And that’s a part of him regardless of what else he is capable of – balance, again.

His senses were better; his kinship with the wolves had changed him. he hadn’t thought of that kinship in a while – he’d been too focused on Faile. But he’d stopped feeling so self-conscious about his eyes. They were part of him. No use grumbling about them.

*delightedly continues to throw confetti*

And yet, that rage he felt when he fought…that loss of control. It worried him, more and more.

Because that’s something he hasn’t accepted, yet. He fights it still, and so he cannot control it. It goes so counter to how he sees himself, and how he wants to be, that he fears that if he accepts it, it will be at the cost of the rest of himself. But it doesn’t have to be. Balance. He can be both – it’s the hammer and axe thing again. The hammer can be used to build or to destroy, to fight. One form of use does not make the other impossible. He can feel rage when he fights and still be gentle elsewhen.

(Why is ‘elsewhen’ not a word? It would be so useful).

He’d pursued Faile with determination, avoiding the wolf dream as he’d avoided all of his responsibilities.

IS HE—

But he knew that the truth was much more difficult.

IS HE FINALLY GOING TO USE THE WOLF DREAM WILLINGLY? IS HE GOING TO USE HIS SUPERPOWERS FOR REAL? He came close a few times, and in TSR almost got there, but then he stopped again and OH MAN THIS IS SO EXCITING.

He’d focused on Faile because he loved her so much, but – in addition – he’d done so because it had been convenient. Her rescue had been an excuse to avoid things like his discomfort with leadership and the blurred truce between himself and the wolf inside of himself.

YES EXACTLY THIS THANK YOU.

And I don’t even remotely care that this part also reads a little like an outline, because it is so very, very necessary. And so very satisfying, after so long.

It’s a little frustrating, still, that this fits rather neatly into the pattern of ‘woman suffers as plot device to further man’s story and/or character growth’ but I’ve spent enough words and energy on that during those chapters that I’m just going to set it aside, here. Because this – Perrin understanding what he was doing and why, and beginning to see what he needs to do about it, and taking those steps – on its own is something that has been waiting to happen almost since the very beginning, and I’m enjoying every minute of it.

I’m out of confetti now, though.

The answers might lie in his dreams.

It was time to return.

FUCK. YES.

*goes to make more confetti for the sole purpose of celebrating that last line*

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#so much self awareness in one chapter are we sure this is WoT #Wheel of Time #neuxue liveblogs WoT #The Gathering Storm