Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mat comes this time, rather than in the middle of the day, early in the morning. It’s an oddity this time, too.

As Moirane blinks uncomprehendingly at him, she wonders what it was this time.

“Hi,” Mat says. His expression could reasonably be misconstrued as a grin. “You told me-“

She doesn’t know why he cuts off like that. Is he pale? Has he been getting enough sun? She’s not sure what he does with the seanchan past what he tells her. He doesn’t look well, she decides.

Moirane yawns.

“Well, come in. If you’re staying this time, please try to not burn the house down.”

He sputters behind her. “It was only that one time! Aludra’s strikers aren’t nearly as unreliable as you all seem to think!”

“You seem to be in bright spirits.”

She sits down at the table, then decides she could do with some tea. Something to wake her up.

“I can seem to be a lot of things, that’s for bloody sure.”

Moirane debates whether or not to make tea the natural way, but then decides against it, channeling the water to a boil. Her awareness is slowly returning as she becomes more awake, and Mat’s visits tend to be well into the night. If he’s come at an odd hour... well, she’ll cross that bridge when she comes to it in the next few minutes.

Tea now brewing, she takes her cup and turns back to the table. Mat definitely looks pale, on a further inspectaion, and his posture seems stiff. She wonders if she could just drag him to Nynave already and be done with it.

“...so,” he says. “Sorry for... all this.”

Moirane stifles another yawn. “Perhaps I should have foreseen this scenario before making my offer,” she says.

“That would have been a bloody nightmare,” he says, again with something that could almost be a smile. She wonders if that’s progress or not. It probably isn’t, if he can’t even make it look convincing. Then again, it is quite early.

“Might there be any tea for me?”

“I’m not sure I could trust you to not make a poison out of it.”

Something bothers her about the way he doesn’t even respond to that comment. He leans forwards and puts his arms on the table, and suddenly everything clicks. The bandage on his right arm hardly looks clean, or inconspicuous. If she still had as much strength in the one power...

But no.

“You should have gone to Nyneave,” she says.

“I bloody flaming will not.”

“Matrim Cauthon, I would rather you not die on my kitchen table. Come on.”

She stands up and leads him back out of her house, hurrying determinedly towards the white tower. Light send he won’t die on the way to Nynaeve, with how he looks.

“Moirane, I really don’t-“

“I hate to override you but in this case, it would seem necessary. You know I would not be able to heal that on my own,” she says, somewhat surprised that he’s still keeping pace with her. “I stand by what I said earlier, and, in fact, I would rather you not died at all. That would be much preferable to knowing you died while I could have done something.”

“Light, she’ll bloody know!”

Moirane stops and turns.

“There’s nothing that says you have to tell her everything. All I will say is that you, of course, are not bound by the three oaths.”

He mutters, but for the rest of their trip to the tower, and then to the traveling grounds, he raises no further complaints. It’s disturbing.

It’s only when they reach the traveling grounds that Moirane realizes she never asked if Nyneave was already in the tower. Blood and bloody ashes.

“I mean,” Mat starts as they make their way to the accepted currently on duty, “Maybe I’ll be fine! I feel fine right now. Don’t you feel fine? I thought I would be fine anyways but then I thought that I really wanted to see you before I died if I turned out to not be fine, and that’s really the only reason I came, because...”

He trails off as the accepted notices them.

“Tell me,” Moirane says, “is Nynaeve sedai in the tower today?”

“Nynave sedai? Is she? Um... um, I don’t think so, aes sedai, did you need her?”

“For your sake, Mat, I hope she isn’t already here. In a way, yes, could you please open a gateway to Malkier? Try to be quick about it.”

“Well, if she isn’t in Malkier either, I’d think that’s a win for me, wouldn’t you agree Moirane? ...Moirane? Oh, blood and bloody ashes, you won’t bloody listen to me, will you?”

“I find that I am actively aware of what you are saying. Now come,” she adds as the slash of light turns into a view of Malkier, “we don’t have all day.”

“Blood and bloody ashes,” Mat mutters again as they walk through. He really doesn’t look well.

Chapter Text

Nynaeve, at the sight of someone in the corner of her eye, sighs and gets up, dusting off her hands. So much for getting the garden done today.

She turns, and pretends that it is perfectly normal to see Mat and Moirane within three feet of each other. She pretends that it is not surprising, and that Mat looking paler than usual is normal and not concerning at all. Mat waves. She ignores it. If she pretends she can’t see him, she won’t have to think about why his vaguely happy expression drops so fast. Much better to just talk to Moirane instead, and get whatever this visit is about other and done with.

“Moirane,” she says. She’d love to add in a “good-to-see-you”, just because they both know she’s not pleased to see the pair in any way. Nynaeve was really hoping to get that garden done.

“Perhaps it is luck,” Moirane says, “that you are out here and not at your home today.”

Nynaeve decides that Mat sitting down like a sack of potatoes — in the middle of the road! Who sits down in the middle of the road?! — is a coincidence. “Did you need me for something? Is it urgent?” She crosses her arms. “Or did Mat put you up to something. Did you put her up to this?”

“Wh-“ Nynave is certain there is some excuse already prepared, but she waves a hand to cut him off. “Oh, never mind, just tell me what you want.”

Moirane takes the graceful opportunity to speak to instead look at Mat, as if he is the most interesting thing under the sun at the moment. Nynaeve wishes they would just leave her alone to get on with the garden. That would be much easier.

“If you would not mind healing Matrim,” Moirane finally says, “I’m sure he would appreciate that.”

Mat appreciates it so much that he fulfills his apparent dream of being a sack of potatoes and passes out.

Gardening, Nynaeve thinks in the moment before she realizes this is bad, would have been much easier.

•••

Nynaeve doesn’t actually remember telling Moirane to make tea, but she probably did. Probably.

She doesn’t remember telling her to make food, either, but that’s just as well; she’s tired. She needs time to think without feeling like someone’s waiting for her to say something that would likely be important. Light, she’s fairly certain that thought made sense. Nynave taps her fingers on the table. She doesn’t know what to make of the situation, really. That and Moirane’s extremely unhelpful observations.

She really isn’t a fan of those.

“You,” she says, looking at Mat, “Have a lot of explaining to do.”

He doesn’t answer, of course, being asleep, but she feels like she has to say something to him, if only to reassure herself that he’s still breathing. Whenever she gets her hands on the person who did this two him... well, she’d be willing to follow through on the threat, except for the sinking feeling that she already knows what happened. She already knows, and it’s no thanks to him, passing out like that.

She would have gotten it without Moirane’s help, anyways. The answer, hard as it is to come to terms with, was laid out as clear as day. Nynaeve sips her tea. Perhaps, if someone was particularly gullible, she could see the excuse of countless battles slipping by unnoticed. Perhaps. She doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t know why, either, because there has to be a reason. There has to be, and she’d like it neat and easy to understand, and not ambiguously floating around.

It’s a wonder Mat managed to survive this long.