Chapter Text
Moiraine felt a distant pang of discomfort and something vaguely resembling hunger. That was all she allowed herself to feel. There was simply no other choice. Her mind was made up, and the rest of her would have to follow.
She stubbornly ignored the pain. Despite someone’s effort to cushion the saddle’s hard leather with a blanket, the makeshift backrest dug into her lower back. Verin had Healed her quite thoroughly, but her body had refused to acknowledge the simple fact that it no longer had a Thakan'dar blade slicing through it.
She tried to keep up with the conversation, but her mind kept drifting. At times, she felt as if she was underwater, surrounded by muffled, distorted sounds.
Her sigh drew Lan’s attention. Light, hadn’t she put him through enough? She reclined in that casual way of Alanna’s, attempting to appear relaxed. His jaw feathered.
It broke her heart to see him like this. Every time he looked at her, searching for a sign, a sliver of hope. She’d made an unforgivable slip shortly before they’d left, her traitorous hand brushing his as they passed one another. Just a small touch, barely anything at all, seeking that one last memory to carry with her…
The muddled conversation around the campfire sounded distorted, just out of reach. Regardless of her effort to keep up, her mind drifted to the memory of another Warders’ fire, seemingly ages ago. Only Ihvon and Maksim were missing.
And Stepin.
The memory sharpened into vivid focus. Logain, raging, unrestrained. Lan’s life ebbing, far too fast. She had done nothing for him. Nothing at all. If it wasn’t for the Wisdom, he would have died.
So much for her Healing ability.
And with that came the nauseating deja vu. Lan’s miraculous appearance, leaping to confront the Fades against impossible odds, had only heightened her terror. He had been gravely injured. All because of her. And she couldn’t even channel to protect him.
Useless.
Once more, it had taken another woman to save him.
He should not have been able to track her so easily without the bond. He’d not sensed the Fades, after all. If only she’d left earlier, when he’d been helping Tomas in the garden or attending Adeleas. She could have drawn the Fades further away.
And you’d be dead.
Well. There was that. The Dragon still needed a guide. A broken Aes Sedai better than none at all, she supposed.
Lan grunted softly. Whether at Tomas’ or Adeleas’ words, she wasn’t sure. She watched the flames, letting her eyes relax.
She may yet be of small use to Rand, but Lan was much better off without her. The Wheel had repeated the lesson once; she doubted it would grant yet another.
“It was in the Borderlands, wasn’t it? Hmm? You probably saw him prancing across the desert on a black steed, sword out, hair whipping in the wind…”
She wanted to laugh. Of all the things Adeleas could have said, it had to be this. As the Wheel wills.
“It was outside Chachin. I'd been following him on the road all day.”
Even as she faced the fire, she could feel Lan’s eyes on her. They must all be looking at her now, but he was the only one who mattered.
“He kept throwing glances back at me. I thought he was a Darkfriend.” The words were out of her mouth before she even realized it.
It had been months since they’d had a real conversation without feeling angry, rejected, or hurt. She felt an overwhelming rush of relief, and also … warmth. Her hands were still so cold, it couldn’t have been from the campfire.
Lan had lifted his head to gaze at her. Light, he was smiling. She had forgotten what it was like. Even without their bond, it was like walking through a meadow, bright with sun-lit dew after a long, terrible storm.
Just one more moment, she told herself.
They took turns speaking, first addressing Adeleas, and then each other directly. At some point, Verin interjected with her explanation of Malkieri custom. Moiraine was grateful for the moment to center herself.
Judging by Lan’s expression, he had told a joke. She caught the words. Nostalgia pulled at her heart. How had they survived their first week together? She smiled, remembering his stoic indifference, the ko’di-driven calm.
If only she had known then, what she knew now.
“Grabbed me by the scruff of the neck…” Would she have channeled blisterleaf into his smallclothes all over again? Her smile grew wider. Oh yes. Very much so. “And tossed me in the water.”
She had never had a home. Not truly. Abused, rejected, and abandoned, she had learned to hide her heart. Had only entrusted it to Siuan… and to this impossible man.
She shuddered but managed to cover it up with a laugh. Or so she hoped.
He had asked her about it only once, as they returned to Tar Valon with Logain’s caravan. Attempting to mask her shudder with a laugh, she’d made a joke then, too. Her saddle and her Warder had truly been her home for so long, the First Oath raised no objection. He was her home in all the ways that mattered.
“Ah, and that’s when you knew, huh?”
Adeleas, Light keep her. For all her faults, she saw what was right with the world. Her heart was pure. But the memory of their bonding was theirs alone.
Suddenly, she felt as she had in Fal Dara, the night before she took Rand to the Eye of the World.
Light, it was happening again, wasn’t it?
She was about to leave him. Chasing after a Forsaken to protect Rand. A different city, a different Forsaken, but it was all the same, really. She was about to leave, send him to a new family.
One she did not belong to. One she did not deserve.
“Any old Warder can protect you from a Trolloc,” Adeleas sounded distant. “But the right one can protect you from yourself.”
He had sworn to protect her the day they had bonded. To come and go on her word. But she had given him a promise, too. One she had intended to keep.
“This is a war you can win,” she had told him, before he knelt in front of her, sword balanced across his palms. Aan'allein, One Man Alone. She had not specified, and he had not asked.
His time would come, his final confrontation with the horrors of the Blight. The Pattern had made it clear, her place would not be at his side. But she could still give him that chance.