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Chapter Text

Rand was the first to say what they were all thinking. “It’s time.”

Elayne closed her eyes just briefly, just to savor the feeling of being squished between him and Mat for one more moment. But she knew they couldn’t put it off any longer, so she opened her eyes again and let Rand and Mat get out of bed. She and Aviendha followed, Elayne slipping on a nightgown and robe and Aviendha a shift while Rand and Mat dressed fully.

They’d had three blissful weeks together in Caemlyn while Rand had been working on laying a trap for the Asha’man traitors in Far Madding, but now the time had come for him to spring the trap. And to cleanse saidin. Both plans were incredibly risky, and Elayne felt sick with fear when she thought too much about either. But she agreed with Rand that they were both necessary, and both the best possible plan for each problem.

Still, she hated the thought of Rand going to Far Madding where he wouldn’t be able to channel, no matter that Asha’man and even Forsaken also wouldn’t be able to channel there. Then he would go to Shadar Logoth to cleanse saidin—an even worse destination and an even more dangerous plan.

Elayne and Aviendha went out to the sitting room while Mat and Rand lingered in the bedroom a moment gathering up their bags and making sure they weren’t forgetting anything. Elayne and Aviendha had to remain in Caemlyn since they had obligations there, Elayne to her people and Aviendha to her training, and Mat had insisted that somebody ought to go with Rand despite Rand’s protests that it would be dangerous. Elayne would miss them both terribly, but she was relieved they would be together, looking out for each other.

The four of them were joined shortly by Nynaeve and Lan, and Birgitte too, come to see them off. Thom, Juilin, Olver, Gawyn, and Min had all made their goodbyes to the four travelers earlier today. As had the Maidens—most were still in Cairhien and some had gone with Perrin to Ghealdan, but Elayne had brought a dozen with her to Caemlyn. Those dozen had initially been offended that Rand planned to leave them behind, but had been soothed by his explanation that his mission was one of utmost stealth and having even one Aiel with him would attract attention.

And by his charge to them to protect Elayne while he was gone. Elayne liked the Maidens—they seemed to have adopted her as a sort of sister or daughter, depending on how they saw Rand—and she knew Rand had mostly only said that to avoid dishonoring them, but Light, the last thing she needed was more people fussing over her safety. Birgitte and Gawyn and the bodyguard they were putting together already had that quite well in hand. Though at least Elayne wouldn’t have to worry about jealousy or competition between her two sets of guards; the Maidens and Guardswomen had become fast friends and now often trained and sparred together, and took most meals together too.

Elayne pulled Nynaeve in for a fierce hug, blinking back tears. Of all Elayne’s traveling companions, Nynaeve was the one who had been with her the longest, from the White Tower to Falme and back, then to Tear, Tanchico, Salidar, Ebou Dar, Dumai’s Wells, Cairhien, Caemlyn. Nynaeve had been by her side through all of it. Elayne would feel so empty tomorrow, waking up and knowing Nynaeve was gone.

“You look after yourself,” Nynaeve said sternly, but she was sniffling too. “I won’t be around to help if you’re stupid enough to drink more forkroot.”

Elayne laughed. “You made me drink and spit out forkroot tea five times to make sure I could recognize the taste, remember? I’ll be fine,” she said. “You be careful. And come back as soon as you can.” Elayne refused to entertain the idea that the attempt to cleanse saidin would fail. Because a failure on that scale would likely kill Nynaeve and Rand, and they didn’t have Elayne’s permission to die.

“I will,” Nynaeve said. She squeezed Elayne tighter for a moment longer, then kissed her on both cheeks and turned to hug Aviendha, then Birgitte, who both put up with it even though they weren’t usually the hugging sort.

Elayne wished Lan luck and told him to take care as well, but only gave him a nod; he definitely wasn’t the hugging sort. Then she looked at Mat and Rand. Rand was holding Aviendha’s hands (an intimacy that flustered her, judging by the bond, though she was allowing it) and talking softly to her, tears in both pairs of eyes, but Mat met Elayne’s gaze and opened his arms. She went into them, holding him close and burying her face in his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” he said, but the feelings in the bond didn’t match his confident tone.

“Be careful, both of you,” Elayne said. “Don’t take any stupid risks.”

“Of course we won’t. We’re not you,” Mat said with pure fondness, and Elayne let out a watery laugh.

Her instinct was to tell him to take care of Rand, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to put that on Mat, to make him feel responsible if—if something happened to Rand. Light knew he already would feel responsible without a promise to Elayne in the mix, and so would Rand if something happened to Mat. Elayne didn’t need to say it to either of them anyway. She already knew they would do everything they could to take care of each other.

Instead she kissed him, far longer and deeper than she would normally do in front of people who weren’t their partners. “I love you,” she said.

Mat kissed her again. “I love you too, cuebiyar.”

Rand and Mat switched places so Mat could say goodbye to Aviendha and Rand to Elayne. Elayne hugged him just as tightly. Rand did feel scared and sad in their bond, but not as much as Mat. There was a determination layered over, a sense of purpose. Of duty.

“You’ll succeed, in both plans,” Elayne said. “I know you will.”

“I hope so.” Rand pulled back just enough to smile at her. “And you’ll be on the Lion Throne by the time we get back.”

“We’ll see,” Elayne said with a sigh. She had three major Houses behind her so far, but her rivals had all consolidated under one claimant, Arymilla Marne. An utter fool of a woman Elayne would die before seeing on the Lion Throne, but she had powerful backers and posed a real, worrisome threat.

Elayne and Rand kissed and exchanged I love you’s as well, and then Mat and Aviendha came over and all four of them hugged each other. They had been preparing for and talking about this moment of parting for days, so there wasn’t much left to say. They just held each other for a while, love and sorrow flowing across all the different bonds between them. How long would it be before they were all together again?

At last they had to let go, and Rand turned to weave a gateway in the space they’d cleared out of the room so that none of Elayne’s furniture would get sliced (they’d decided that leaving directly from Elayne’s apartments would attract less attention than all of them trooping up to the attic in the middle of the night). Elayne watched the familiar slash of light appear, Aviendha holding one of her hands and Birgitte the other.

The other four approached the gateway, then turned for one last goodbye. Elayne tried to smile, tried to project confidence and love through the bonds so as not to make leaving any harder for Rand and Mat than it already was. They smiled back at her and Aviendha and told them they loved them, and then they walked through the gateway together with Nynaeve and Lan following.

The gateway winked out, and Rand’s and Mat’s bonds instantly grew distant and muted.

But Aviendha’s and Birgitte’s were as strong as ever, Aviendha’s heart aching in unison with Elayne’s and Birgitte’s in sympathy with it. Elayne hugged Aviendha to comfort her and be comforted, and Birgitte hugged them too, arms around both together, gently rubbing their backs while they wept.

After a few minutes, Birgitte bid them both goodnight and left to give them privacy. “I’m afraid, Aviendha,” Elayne whispered. “Hunting Asha’man and cleansing saidin. Light knows what might happen. I wish we could’ve gone with them, what if they—and we’re not there to—”

“We all must wake from the dream eventually. But it is not their time to wake. Not either of them.” Aviendha touched Elayne’s cheek, love and comfort washing over her in the bond. “They will return to us. We will all see the sun rise together again.”

Elayne cupped Aviendha’s tearstained face in her hands and kissed her once, twice, a third time, feeling a little better. She had Aviendha. She wasn’t alone. The weeks when Elayne had been in Caemlyn and the three of them off fighting Sammael and the Seanchan had been unbearable. And now Elayne had a bond with Rand too in addition to Mat, could feel that both of them were alive and safe even if they were too far away for any other details to come through. She would know if something happened to them.

Hand in hand, she and Aviendha returned to their bedroom. And stopped in their tracks when they saw what was waiting for them there.

Two lilies sat on the pillows, in full bloom even though it was the heart of winter. Elayne smiled, fresh tears welling up. Rand and Mat must have put those there when they’d stayed back in the bedroom a minute getting their things together.

And the choice of flower was deliberate. Elayne’s personal sigil was a lily, chosen at age twelve because lilies symbolized dedication in Caemlyn. Chosen as a promise to her people. The meaning of lilies in Emond’s Field was remarkably similar. Devotion, though Rand had said it usually symbolized devotion on a personal level, one individual to another, whereas in Caemlyn a lily stood for any kind of dedication, whether to one person or to a nation or to a set of ideals.

Dedication and devotion. That was what Rand and Mat were promising them with these lilies (well, mostly Rand, Elayne would wager; Mat had little interest in this sort of sappiness). They were promising that they would come back. That they would always come back to Elayne and Aviendha.

Aviendha picked up one of the lilies, looking amazed. “Where did they find fresh flowers?” she asked. “I thought that most plants died during the winter?” She had been learning all about winter these past few weeks.

“They do.” Elayne touched the pillow, smile widening. “Rand must have made them out of feathers, like he did in Tear.” Aviendha hadn’t been part of their relationship then, but she’d heard the story many times. “If you like, I can show you how to weave a Keeping around it so that it will never die.”

Aviendha wanted to learn the weave, so Elayne demonstrated on her own lily. She placed it in the vase on the table by the bed, along with the rest of her little flower collection. The sunburst and rose Rand had sent with Mat to her in Salidar, the trueheart Elayne had picked on the way to Ebou Dar, and the starblaze Gawyn had given her a few weeks ago were also protected by a Keeping, but there was a second sunburst that was long dead. The one Rand had given her in Tear when they and Mat had first gotten together; it had withered and dried out months before Elayne had learned the Keeping weave from Moghedien and it wasn’t possible to restore life to what had already died, but she would never get rid of that dead flower, not as long as she lived.

Aviendha successfully wove a Keeping around her lily—she was always so quick to pick up new weaves—and set it down on the other table, the one on her side of the bed. Aviendha was the only one of the four of them who had an established spot in the bed; she liked to sleep on the outside edge closest to the door so that she could be ready to spring to action in the event of a midnight attack. Rand preferred being on one of the inside spots so he could be cuddled, and Elayne and Mat floated around depending on who wanted to sleep next to whom on a given night.

Maybe someday they would all be in one place together long enough that they settled into one permanent sleeping arrangement. That was a nice thought.

Elayne took off her robe and hung it up in the wardrobe, then got in bed and snuggled into Aviendha’s arms. It was very late and they had given Rand and Mat quite a strenuous sendoff earlier in the night, so even despite the ache of the two empty spaces in bed, Elayne felt her eyes grow heavy almost immediately.

She yawned and nestled closer against Aviendha. “Sleep well and wake, shade of my heart,” Elayne murmured.

Aviendha kissed her temple. “And you, shade of mine.”

Mistress Nalhera barely spared a glance at Mat, Rand, and Lan, instead focusing her attention on Nynaeve. “How many rooms will it be?” she asked.

“Two, please,” Nynaeve said. “One for me and my husband” —she looped her arm through Lan’s— “and one for our friends.”

Mistress Nalhera looked back at Mat and Rand with a touch of uncertainty. “I haven’t got any rooms with two beds left,” she said. “I can squeeze a second in, but it’ll be cramped. You’ll be more comfortable each in your own room.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mistress Nalhera,” Rand said. He looped his arm through Mat’s. “My husband and I will be more than happy to share one bed.”

Mat tried not to look startled. Or to blush. Husband? Rand hadn’t mentioned that when they’d been planning their cover story. Mat glanced sideways at him and saw him grinning at him, amusement dancing in their bond.

And something…something sad too. Something wistful that made Mat’s heart ache. The way Rand always felt when thinking about some happiness, some future he wouldn’t get to have with Tarmon Gai’don approaching. The way Mat always felt when thinking about that, too.

Mistress Nalhera apologized for the mistaken assumption, but she looked a little dismayed to learn that they were “married.” Not because she had a problem with two men loving each other, though. Before they’d left, Elayne had told them all about Far Madding. Apparently, here women earned all the coin and men were decoration (not Elayne’s exact words, but Mat had read between the lines). Thus, two married men were bad for business. A husband and a wife, the wife would pay, two wives, they would split it or whoever earned more would pay, but two husbands? Mistress Nalhera might well be assuming they hadn’t five coins between them.

Sure enough, she asked Nynaeve, “And will you be paying for both rooms, my Lady?” Nynaeve was absolutely drenched in jewels—all angreal, she’d told Mat exasperatedly when he’d made fun of her—and quite ruining their attempts not to attract attention.

Nynaeve snorted. “I should say not! Those two can pay for themselves.”

Mistress Nalhera eyed Mat and Rand doubtfully. “I suppose outlanders do things differently,” she conceded. “Which one of you will be paying, then?”

Before Rand could move, Mat reached for his own coinpurse. “That would be me,” he said. “I’m the coin-earner in our marriage. Horse trader.” That, they had agreed on; it was an unremarkable reason for outlanders to be in Far Madding, and Mat had a good eye for horses and could carry the cover well if pressed. “My husband’s job is to look pretty and spend my money.”

Rand flushed violently, but to Mat’s delight, the emotion in the bond was much closer to pleasure than embarrassment. Mistress Nalhera laughed. “Husbands are good at that, aren’t they?” she said, her gaze much more approving now that she knew that they could pay. And that they didn’t both earn a living. What a horror that would’ve been.

“Indeed they are,” Mat said while Nynaeve hummed her enthusiastic agreement. Lan took it all in stride, his neutral expression never changing, but Rand was a blushing mess the entire way up to their rooms. A very pleased blushing mess, the bond informed Mat.

As soon as he’d shut the door behind them, he backed Rand up against it. “So, you like it when I call you pretty?” he teased, hands settling on his waist.

Rand blushed harder. “You already knew that, and you did it on purpose back there,” he said, and Mat laughed.

Mat leaned in and kissed him, and Rand kissed him back eagerly. “Well, good thing you like it, because you are pretty,” Mat said between kisses. “The prettiest husband there is.” Another burst of pleasure in the bond, tinged with a sort of joyful love that made Mat think Rand was reacting more to Mat calling him his husband than Mat calling him pretty.

Mat found himself thinking of something he’d wondered a few times, more and more often lately. He stopped kissing Rand and pulled back an inch, studying him for a moment before venturing in a more serious tone of voice, “Do you ever think about us getting married? Actually?” The four of them had never had a real conversation about it before.

Rand’s bond surged with more emotions, but sadder ones this time. Longing and sorrow, mostly. Rand sighed, shoulders slouching. “What would the point be?” he said. “I won’t live past Tarmon Gai’don. And I don’t think that’s far off.”

Mat tried to swallow his own grief at the words. He reached up to touch Rand’s cheek. “The point would be that it would make us happy,” he said. “If it would. Would it? Make you happy?”

“It would make me happier than anything else in the world,” Rand said softly. “But it would endanger the three of you, being married to the Dragon Reborn. It’d put targets on your backs.”

“Plenty of people already know we’re your lovers, in Cairhien, at least. Likely elsewhere by now.” Hopefully not Andor, for Elayne’s sake. “Besides, who says we’d have to tell anyone? We could marry in secret. We’d probably have to anyway, I doubt it’s legal anywhere this side of the Spine for four people to marry.”

Rand let out a huff of laughter and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Mat’s. “Would it make you happy, Mat?” he asked. “You’ve never been keen on the idea of marriage.”

True enough. But that had been before. Back when all he knew of marriage was his mother drinking herself into a stupor and his father betraying her with half the village, both trying to escape the miserable marriage neither wanted anymore but couldn’t get out of. Back when the thought of only sleeping with one person for the rest of his life had felt boring at times and terrifying at others, terrifying because surely he would get so bored that he’d turn into his father and end up betraying the poor fool he’d married. Back when he’d wanted a life of adventures and thought a spouse would only chain him down.

Now, though? Now, Mat had had more than his fill of adventures, and the thought of a peaceful, settled life with Rand and Elayne as his spouses and Aviendha as his sister-wife had its appeal. They would never chain him down anyway, would never stop him from having fun or from dancing or dicing or drinking (in moderation) of an evening, the way he’d always imagined an Emond’s Field goodwife would.

And he would never get bored of sex with them, and right now he couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else, but if he ever did, he could talk to them about it and they might give him permission to be with that person in addition to them. Because it would never be the sort of marriage that happened in Emond’s Field, one husband and one wife and perish the thought of either of them ever having an interest in another person. Mat could marry Rand and Elayne without getting stuck in that box of—of a “normal” life, that box that had always felt so restrictive and suffocating, that box that had always scared him. He could marry them and still be free.

Most importantly of all, he loved them. He would love to fall asleep and wake up next to them every day for…as long as they all had left. Would be excited to commit to loving them for that long. Would be proud to call them his spouses, and honored for them to call him theirs. Besides, he’d already been bonded as their Warder. As far as lifelong commitments went, marriage had nothing on that.

Mat smiled. “I never used to be,” he said. “But with you and Elayne…I think I might like it.”

The following afternoon, Elayne was returning from her ride through the city—she liked to do that as often as she had the time so that she could see for herself how her people were doing, and so that she could be seen doing so—when she passed Min heading to the library. Min had taken an interest in philosophy after befriending Herid Fel back in Cairhien, and when Elayne had the time (time seemed to be her scarcest and most precious resource these days) she and Min would discuss their recent reading together, though Elayne suspected that Min understood Elayne’s ter’angreal research as poorly as Elayne understood Min’s philosophical theories.

They greeted each other, and then Min glanced around and lowered her voice to say, “How are you and Aviendha getting on without them?”

Elayne appreciated the attempt at discretion, but it was impossible to conceal from her maids and Guardswomen how many people slept in her apartments, so she imagined that by now the entire palace staff was taking bets on whether her lover was General Cauthon or the Aielwoman (Rand hadn’t wanted anyone to know the Dragon Reborn was in Caemlyn and had always woven an Illusion to disguise his appearance in the palace and even then had Traveled in and out of Elayne’s apartments so no one would see him). Although Elayne had made it known that Mat and Aviendha were her Warders, which she hoped had led people to assume that they only shared her rooms as Warders protecting her after an assassination attempt.

The only person who knew they actually slept in her bed was Essande, who woke Elayne every morning, and she would never violate Elayne’s privacy by telling anybody. Essande also knew Rand shared that bed and was the Dragon Reborn, of course. Essande knew everything.

“Too busy to have time for sorrow,” Elayne said wryly, and Min laughed. Elayne nodded at the stack of books in Min’s arms. “You’re also keeping busy, I see. Have you read anything interesting lately?”

Min started to answer, then trailed off, staring at Elayne. Or…not quite at her. Elayne recognized that look. “A viewing?” she asked quietly. “Do you know what it means?” Min nodded. “Is it bad?”

“Not bad,” Min said. “But…I think we should talk somewhere more private.”

Getting arrested had not been part of the plan. Mat groaned and sat up, rubbing his head and trying to get his bearings. He, Rand, and Lan had gone into the top floor of that house chasing after Asha’man only to find that they were already dead and Padan Fain was there. Fain had escaped, and the three of them had tried to get away but ended up falling off the roof. Thank the Light they were all Warders and could survive injuries that might kill a normal person. Though Mat still felt like his entire body had been run over by a carriage. Ten times.

The fall had knocked him out, so he wasn’t sure what had happened. But seeing as he was now in a small windowless room with a barred door and all his weapons were gone, he thought it safe to say they’d been caught and arrested for carrying weapons inside Far Madding.

Once the pounding in his head had eased up just a bit, he realized that Rand’s bond was in an absolute frenzy. He was also injured, probably as bad as Mat if not worse—Mat had a vague memory of Rand trying to maneuver Mat on top of him as they’d tumbled through the air so that Rand would break his fall—but that was secondary to the pure terror and panic battering him, so strong that Mat almost started to panic too.

But he forced himself to stay calm. “Rand?” he called out into the darkness. He couldn’t see Rand, but could sense that he was very close. Probably in the cell next to his. “Rand, are you there?”

“M-Mat?” Rand’s voice was small and choked, and neither his terror nor panic eased one bit. So it hadn’t been worry for Mat’s safety that had been panicking him…

…the small space, Mat realized. Ever since Galina had had him in that box, Rand panicked over darkness and small spaces, and now it was both at once, without even the tiniest window or crack around the doorframe to let in light. Even Mat felt a bit claustrophobic in here, so ashes, how awful must it be for Rand?

Mat went over to the wall he could sense Rand on the other side of, and he rested his hand against it, as if he could touch Rand through it. “I’m here, sa’sheikar oniraya,” he said. “It’s all right. I’m here with you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Rand didn’t say anything, but Mat could hear him hyperventilating and letting out the occasional sob. Burn them, why had they had to put them in separate cells? Mat needed to be with Rand right now, needed to touch him, hold him, reassure him that he was safe.

Except…except he wasn’t safe. Light, once they saw the marks on Rand’s arms they would realize they had the Dragon Reborn in custody. Likely they already had. They might have already sent word to Tar Valon, to Elaida. Elaida would send sisters here to—

No. Nynaeve had escaped. She would have a plan for getting them out, or if not, she could reach Elayne and Egwene in Tel’aran’rhiod and let them know what had happened, and between the three of them and Aviendha and Birgitte (and maybe Cadsuane, Mat admitted grudgingly) they would figure something out. Mat was not going to give in to panic, not now when Rand needed him to stay calm.

“Focus on my voice, Rand,” he said. “Can you hear me?”

“Y-Yes.”

Usually when Rand panicked, Mat would sit with him until he felt calm again, but since he couldn’t do that now, he cast about for a way to distract him. “Do you remember the first time we ever got drunk?” he asked.

The faintest bewilderment cut through the panic. “What?”

“Elayne said that Egwene told her the story, but I don’t remember it,” Mat said, which was true. One of the memories the dagger had eaten. “Can you remind me?”

“I’d like to hear that story too, sheepherder,” came Lan’s voice from a cell further down. On the other side of Rand’s, sounded like. “Nynaeve told me once, but I have a feeling her version was biased.” Mat laughed.

“Lan? You’re here?” Rand said.

“I am. Tell us the story, if you remember it.”

“We were fourteen, right?” Mat prompted him.

“Thirteen,” Rand said. “It w-was—it was just after our thirteenth namedays.” His voice was still shaking, but at least he was able to get the words out. “Th-That was why we stole the jar, b-because it was your nameday and we wanted to celebrate. My dad and I had come down to the v-village so I could spend your nameday with you and Perrin, and we’d brought apple brandy to sell, and you convinced me to steal some.” Shaking less now. “Perrin went home because he didn’t want to get in trouble, so it was just you and me.”

Mat laughed again. “Typical Perrin. How much did we drink?”

“Not much. It was a small jar. Probably couldn’t get you drunk now. But it was the first brandy we’d ever had, so it knocked us both out,” Rand said. “We woke up behind the Winespring Inn’s stables the next morning. Well, Nynaeve woke us up. She was mad as a wet cat and shouted herself hoarse, but our heads hurt too much for us to care about the lecture, and that made her even madder.”

“Typical Nynaeve,” Lan said dryly, and even Rand let out a shaky laugh at that.

Mat and Lan kept going, asking Rand to tell them stories from Emond’s Field that Mat had forgotten or that Lan had heard referenced by Nynaeve, and in time the terror and panic had eased up. Not gone altogether, Mat knew that wouldn’t happen until Rand was back in daylight again, but they were manageable now, no longer consuming or overwhelming him.

“Thank you,” Rand said in a whisper, though one loud enough for them to hear through the thick cell walls.

“We’re all in this pile of shit together, Rand,” Mat said. “And we’re all getting out of it together. All right?”

Rand felt comforted in the bond, and a little hopeful too. “All right.”

“You went to the Wise Ones’ tents this afternoon,” Aviendha said as Elayne was undressed by Essande. Aviendha had already dressed herself for bed; she refused to let servants help her. “But not to see me.”

It was a statement, not a question. An observation without expectation of an answer. Aviendha would never pry into Elayne’s affairs, but Elayne could feel curiosity in the bond, just as she had earlier when Aviendha had sensed her presence among the tents. Elayne got on well with the Wise Ones but rarely had business with them, and the few times she did go out to their tents, it was either to look for Aviendha or to speak with the Wise Ones with Aviendha present. Elayne had never had cause to see a Wise One without Aviendha before.

But there were few channelers Elayne would trust to perform this sort of Delving on her without gossiping about it, and with Nynaeve gone, the Wise Ones were the only option. Min hadn’t known when her viewing would come to pass, whether now or in ten years, so after a few weeks of dithering—and the first sign that it might indeed be now—Elayne had decided she couldn’t wonder any longer and had to know one way or the other.

Aviendha was likely also curious about the burst of emotions Elayne had felt when Monaelle had determined the answer. Had felt and was still feeling.

Now, Elayne chewed her lip. Should she tell Aviendha? Elayne would prefer to wait until Rand and Mat returned so that she could tell all three of them and they could discuss it together. But she had no idea when they would return and doubted she could keep this from Aviendha for long (especially with the bond), nor did she want to. Rand and Mat wouldn’t mind if the two of them talked about it first.

Besides, Elayne was jittery with nerves as to how her partners would react. She didn’t know how long it would be before she could talk to Rand and Mat, but if she could at least find out what Aviendha thought, that would give her some peace of mind.

Elayne didn’t want to discuss it in front of Essande, though—a lady could never keep secrets from her maid forever, but she could at least for a little while—so she kept silent until Essande had finished undressing her, then dismissed her with a smile and wove against eavesdropping once the door had shut. Clad in only her shift, Elayne went to sit on the floor next to Aviendha, tucking her feet under her and resting one shoulder against the foot of the bed.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” Elayne said.

More curiosity in the bond, and worry too. “Is it to do with why you have been so emotional these past weeks?” Aviendha asked. “Anxious, hopeful, uncertain…”

“Ah. You would have felt all that, wouldn’t you have? You never asked me about it.”

Aviendha shrugged. “I knew that you would tell me if you wanted me to know.”

Elayne smiled. If they’d felt all that in the bond, Rand would’ve asked her a few times what was bothering her and given up if she didn’t answer, and Mat would’ve been needling her relentlessly. Birgitte certainly had been.

“Well, it was a viewing Min had. Not a bad one,” she hastened to add when Aviendha’s worry intensified. “But she didn’t know when it would happen, only that it would, so I’ve been wondering about it for weeks, and today I decided to ask Monaelle.”

Now Aviendha was confused. “Why would Monaelle know about this viewing?”

“She did a Delving on me.” Elayne took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant. That was the viewing. Min saw that someday I would give birth to healthy twins, a boy and a girl. And it turns out it’s going to be someday soon. Well, in nine months. Or eight by now, I suppose.”

Aviendha stared at her, the bond pure shock. And then emotion rushed in, protectiveness, worry, pride, uncertainty. “Do you feel well?” Aviendha asked anxiously. “Do you feel sick? Tired? Do you have aches? Oh, you should not be sitting on the hard floor, shade of my heart, come, come, into bed, you need rest—”

Nervous as she still was, Elayne couldn’t keep from giggling. “I’m fine, Aviendha. Really,” she said as Aviendha tugged her to her feet. “I don’t want to rest, I want to…to talk about this with you.” Elayne’s smile faded again. “Are you…how do you feel about it?”

Aviendha was feeling a lot of things, but she wasn’t upset or unhappy or anything like that, not even close to it. The realization made Elayne relax, as did the fact that Aviendha was staying close to her, wrapping one arm around her waist. She wasn’t running away. Well, not that Elayne had really thought there was a chance of that, but she hadn’t been able to help imagining worst-case scenarios.

“You can feel how I feel,” Aviendha pointed out.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I know why you’re feeling that way,” Elayne said. “You feel protective. Over my safety?”

Aviendha nodded. “Yes,” she said. “And…and the babies’ safety.” The wonder in her voice made Elayne smile.

“You also feel worried.”

“For the same reason.”

“Proud.”

“Of you. Of your children. Proud to—to be part of this with you,” Aviendha said, lowering her gaze, uncharacteristically shy.

Her other hand came up and hesitated. Aviendha’s hands were always so steady. This was the first time Elayne had seen them tremble. Then her hand settled on Elayne’s stomach, and Elayne’s smile widened as she felt a surge of stronger protectiveness and—and love. So much love.

Sniffling a little, she covered Aviendha’s hand with her own. “And uncertain,” she said. “Why is that?”

“Because…” The uncertainty doubled. “I wonder whether…that is, I am not sure who I…who you will want me to…” Aviendha lifted her eyes back up to Elayne. “Am I to be their sister-mother?”

Sister-mother…aunt? “Why would you be their sister-mother?” Elayne said, baffled.

“Well, I am first-sister to their father. Possibly.” Elayne had no idea whether Mat or Rand was their father by blood but hadn’t spent more than an idle moment wondering, because it didn’t matter, not to her. “That would make me their sister-mother. And they already have a mother in you. You will be the one to carry and give birth to them.”

Aviendha’s uncertainty was stronger than ever, but now there was resignation too, wistfulness. Longing.

Your children, she had said. Not our.

With her free hand, Elayne reached up to touch her cheek. “You are their mother, Aviendha,” she said firmly. “Mother. Not sister-mother. You’re Mat’s sister, yes, but you are the wife of my heart, and Rand’s.” Was that going too far? Elayne had heard Amys refer to Lian that way once and thought it terribly romantic, but she and Aviendha weren’t actually married, so she didn’t know if she had the right to say that. It felt right, though. Even if they hadn’t done it officially—yet—in Elayne’s heart, Aviendha was her wife and Rand and Mat her husbands.

Aviendha let out a loud whoosh of air, lower lip wobbling, eyes swimming with tears. She was feeling—she was just feeling. Emotions so strong and overwhelming that Elayne couldn’t begin to separate or name them. But they were all positive. Every last one.

“Wife…wife of my heart,” Aviendha whispered, voice cracking a little.

“Wife of my heart,” Elayne repeated, smiling broadly. Light, she liked saying that. “And that means that any child of mine is yours too. Blood doesn’t matter. These children will have four parents. Four equal parents. Two fathers.” Elayne leaned up to kiss Aviendha’s nose. “And two mothers.”

Aviendha started to cry, and Elayne enveloped her in a proper hug. She could pick out some specific emotions now. Gratitude and awe and, strongest of all, love. It made Elayne cry too, and they clung to each other and cried together for Light knew how long.

Eventually Elayne let go of her to prepare for bed—she was tired—and Aviendha fussed around getting Elayne’s warmest nightgown and robe out of the wardrobe and insisting she put them on, giving her all the pillows on the bed, piling blankets on her, making sure she had a full glass of water on the nightstand and slippers on the floor next to the bed so her bare feet wouldn’t have to touch the cold floor for even a second should she need to get up in the night, and asking whether she’d like Aviendha to send for some nice hot soup or tea.

“No, I’m not hungry or thirsty. Relax, Aviendha, honestly, I’m a few weeks pregnant, not dying of fever,” Elayne said fondly. It warmed her heart to see Aviendha already so determined to care for her and the babies. Though she could imagine that this sort of overprotectiveness might grow irksome if Elayne didn’t try to rein it in early. “The only thing I want right now is for you to get in bed and cuddle me.”

Aviendha obliged at once. Elayne rested her head on her shoulder, smiling as Aviendha’s hand went to her stomach again. “I love you, Elayne,” Aviendha said softly.

Elayne took her hand. “I love you too.”

After a quiet moment, Aviendha asked, “What do you think Rand and Mat will think about the babies?”

Elayne bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she said. “None of us ever expected this. I was always so careful about drinking heartleaf tea…”

“The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills,” Aviendha said with a grin, and Elayne chuckled too. “Perhaps the Wheel willed for you to have these children.”

“For us to,” Elayne corrected, and the rush of pride and happiness in the bond made her smile again. “More likely I just forgot the tea once because I had too many other things on my mind.” She sighed. “I’m worried they might be upset. Mat’s wonderful with Olver, but I don’t know if he wants more children. And Rand used to want children back in Emond’s Field, but I don’t know if finding out he’s the Dragon Reborn has changed that. None of us ever talked about children, besides one brief conversation Mat and I had in Ebou Dar, when all we said was that we would see how we felt after Tarmon Gai’don.” With the unspoken thought that there might not be an “after Tarmon Gai’don.”

Aviendha kissed Elayne’s temple. “Bringing children into a world that will soon see Tarmon Gai’don is certainly not the most ideal timing,” she said, and it felt strangely comforting for her to acknowledge that rather than to give Elayne false assurances that everything would be perfect. “And it is a complicated situation for Rand, for all of us, because of who he is. What his fate is.” Aviendha’s pang of grief in the bond was quickly stifled, but so sharp during the second it lasted that Elayne’s throat closed up. “But even so, I cannot imagine that either of them would be upset about these children. About our children.” Another rush of pride.

“I hope you’re right,” Elayne said, but she did feel soothed. For half a second until another thought struck. “Light, what will I say to people? In a few months everyone will know I’m pregnant and they’ll be wondering who the father is…”

Aviendha furrowed her brow. “It cannot be thought that it is Rand,” she said just as Elayne was coming to the same conclusion. “Too many would wish to harm his children, and their mother.”

Elayne nodded. She didn’t like it, but it was true. Besides, she was hoping that her relationship with Rand wouldn’t become known in Andor until after her claim to the Lion Throne had been acknowledged. People would think her a puppet the Dragon Reborn was putting on the throne if they knew they had a personal relationship. The fact that they had a political relationship and that Rand had given her the Sun Throne of Cairhien had already caused her enough troubles in Andor, alleviated only by his (alleged) distance from Caemlyn and Elayne these past two months.

Things were different (and simpler) in Cairhien. Elayne had openly and unambiguously been installed as queen by Rand, but Cairhien was his conquest in a way Andor wasn’t—would never be, if Elayne had any say in it. Some especially proud nobles had muttered about Elayne being the Dragon Reborn’s puppet, but most Cairhienin were so relieved to see someone step in and take up the mantle of leadership after months of civil war that they simply didn’t care. And after a month or so of Elayne proving herself a skilled leader in her own right, not Rand’s, most of those mutters had stopped.

As for their personal relationships, those were an open secret in Cairhien. None of them had confirmed anything outright, but that Rand and Mat were lovers had been a known fact there ever since the battle against the Shaido, and after Dumai’s Wells servants had seen Elayne and Aviendha sleep in Rand’s bedroom as well, so naturally, the gossip mill had begun churning vigorously.

At first rumor had had it as some sort of perverted Aiel sex practice orchestrated by Rand, possibly involving Compulsion of Mat and Elayne (Aviendha would apparently be all in on these perverted Aiel sex practices without needing to be Compelled). But with Elayne’s rise in popularity in Cairhien, public interpretation of their love lives had taken a more favorable turn.

Cairhienin, especially the nobility, didn’t view marriage in the same way as Andorans did. For them, marriage was merely a political move, another aspect of Daes Dae’mar, and taking a mistress or lover wasn’t seen as a betrayal of the spouse one had been obligated to marry to advance the interests of one’s family or career. On the contrary, mistresses and lovers were publicly acknowledged and held in high regard, and many a wife counted her husband’s mistress among her dearest friends, and vice versa for a husband with his wife’s lover.

Thus, by the time the four of them had left Cairhien, most people had seemed to believe that Elayne was Rand’s intended wife, chosen for politics, and Mat and Aviendha his lover and mistress, chosen for pleasure. True, even for a Cairhienin it was unusual to have two lovers, but everybody agreed that the Dragon Reborn could bend the rules.

In Andor, gossip was starting to come down on the side of Mat being Elayne’s lover and Aviendha merely her Aiel Warder who insisted upon sharing her rooms every night because Aiel were strange that way. No rumors about Elayne and Rand had yet reached Caemlyn from Cairhien, as far as Thom had heard. Thank the Light. It was inevitable they would, though; Elayne just had to secure the Lion Throne first. And perhaps if the people of Andor believed Mat her lover, then they would take her relationship with Rand in Cairhien as a past one of no present relevance.

Elayne hated having such a thought about her relationship with one of the partners she loved. But she couldn’t let her people worry that she was a puppet. Like Morgase had been for Rahvin, Elayne thought, heart aching with anger and grief, although few people in Caemlyn knew that Lord Gaebril had been a Forsaken. They’d assumed Morgase had simply become a fool for a man and run Andor into the ground because of it.

Elayne couldn’t let that sort of behavior be associated with the name of Trakand. She had to make sure her people knew that she was no man’s puppet, that she was capable and worthy of leading them. That they would be safe in her hands.

“We could spread around that Mat is the father,” she said. “Easy enough since the palace staff knows that he was here at the time of the conception and that he was sleeping in my rooms for his entire stay. In fact, we’d likely have a hard time trying to convince people he isn’t the father. He’s a bit too close to the Dragon Reborn for comfort” —some rumors pegged him and the Band as Dragonsworn— “but it’s also known that he’s my Warder, so I think most people believe that he’s loyal to me and Andor even above Rand.”

The same was also true of the Band. The rest of it had arrived two weeks ago with Talmanes, to whom Elayne had given a letter from Mat with instructions for the Band to stay in Caemlyn for the foreseeable future and for Talmanes to treat any orders from Elayne as if they were coming from Mat himself. Though the Band was a foreign army in part (many were Andoran), the people of Caemlyn were willing to trust an army led by the Daughter-Heir’s Warder far more than Bashere’s Saldaeans or Bael’s Aiel, or the mercenaries Elayne had initially hired to replace the Saldaeans and Aiel. The Band’s arrival had done a great deal to settle the city.

“And it would only increase public confidence in the Band’s loyalty if they believed that its leader is not only my Warder, but also the father of my children. Someone who is tied very closely to Andor and has a vested interest in its strength and safety,” Elayne mused. Then she frowned. “Light, I sound so cold about all this. You must be sick to death of me always letting public opinion guide my actions, always thinking of how I can use people and information to my advantage.”

“Of course that does not make me sick, Elayne. It makes me proud,” Aviendha said, and the bond confirmed it. “You are a wise leader because you understand that all your actions will be perceived in certain ways, and a clever one because you know how to influence those perceptions to result in a beneficial outcome. I admire you for it, and Rand and Mat do too. We have all learned a great deal from you about how to be better leaders ourselves.”

Elayne blushed and hid her face in Aviendha’s shoulder. “I have no bloody clue what I’m doing half the time,” she said. “But thank you for believing that I do.”

Aviendha chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “As for making people believe that Mat is the babies’ father, I think that is the best course of action as well, for all the reasons you gave,” she said. “With luck he and Rand will return before your pregnancy becomes known so that the four of us can discuss this plan together, but if not, I do not think they would object to us enacting it. They will agree that this is the safest thing to do for the babies and for you.”

She sounded and felt so confident. Elayne was glad she’d decided to tell Aviendha about her pregnancy right away. Aviendha always had a practical, no-nonsense outlook, and she was making this whole overwhelming situation feel so much more manageable.

“Thank you,” Elayne said.

“For what?”

“For always keeping me anchored when I feel like I’m about to be washed out to sea,” Elayne said, lifting her head back up to look at her. “Ever since Min told me about the viewing I’ve been so anxious and stressed, but one conversation with you and I’m calm about all of it. Well, calmer.”

Aviendha tucked a strand of hair behind Elayne’s ear and left her hand resting on her cheek afterwards. “Do you want these babies, Elayne?” she asked. “I have toh for not thinking to ask that sooner.”

“No toh,” Elayne said automatically. It was an exchange they had often. “You were overwhelmed and had a lot to think about, and you could feel in the bond that I was happy. I know you would’ve asked if you’d felt that I wasn’t. I do want them. Yes, I’m anxious and stressed, and terrified, really, but I’m also so—so happy to be a mother, so excited to meet our babies.” She smiled, a little tearfully. “I do want them. Light, I do.”

Aviendha smiled back and leaned in to kiss her. “Then we will face this as we do everything,” she said. “Together.”

Chapter Text

Mat was casting a wary eye around Shadar Logoth, unease in the bond. “Takes you back, doesn’t it?” he said.

“To Sammael or the dagger?” Rand asked.

“Both. Although I can’t remember that first visit very well, other than that I wanted to impress you by showing you how brave I was to go exploring in the spooky evil city.” They both laughed. “Ah, enough reminiscing. No time for that today.”

Rand’s smile faded, and he nodded.

Mat took his hands. “It’ll succeed,” he said. Rand could feel how scared Mat was, but he was putting on a brave face. Like he always did. “It will. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

Rand wasn’t sure he believed that, but he couldn’t afford not to. Couldn’t afford to doubt himself. It had been a long time since he had been able to afford that.

“Don’t come too close during it,” Rand said. “Stay with Cadsuane. Listen to her.” He didn’t like giving that advice any more than Mat liked receiving it, but he did believe that Cadsuane wanted the attempt to cleanse saidin to succeed and that she would try to keep Mat safe, if only because losing him would drive Rand mad and doom the world.

And she had gotten them out of those holding cells. Rand could only imagine how much pride Nynaeve had had to swallow to go to Cadsuane for help, but she had, and Cadsuane had given it. Not without lecturing all four of them the entire way out of Far Madding. Even Lan had resembled a chastened child by the end of it.

Still, whenever the panic from that small, dark cell creeped back into his memory, Rand couldn’t help being grateful to Cadsuane for getting him out of there, whatever motives she’d had for it. Thank the Light Mat and Lan had been there to talk with him and keep him anchored. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if he’d been alone with that panic. It might have broken him.

“No matter what happens, you can’t interfere,” he continued. They’d gone over the plan a hundred times in Caemlyn and a hundred more in Far Madding, but Rand had to make sure Mat would be safe. “No matter what you see happening, no matter what you feel in the bond, no matter how tired I am or how much pain I’m in, even if you sense that I’m dying, you can’t interfere.”

“Because once you two have started, any disruption could have disastrous consequences for you and for the world, and for me if I’m the one causing that disruption,” Mat said. “I know, Rand. You’ve told me a thousand times. I won’t interfere. No matter what. Promise.”

“All right. Good,” Rand said. He hesitated, not wanting to upset Mat, but he had to say this. “If something—if something happens to me…Elayne and Aviendha, tell them—tell them—”

“I will, if it comes to that,” Mat said before Rand could bring himself to finish. “But it won’t, because nothing will happen to you and we’ll go home as soon as this is done and you’ll be able to tell them yourself.”

Then he cupped Rand’s face in his hands and kissed him like he was afraid he was never going to see him again. Rand kissed him back just as fiercely, just as desperately. “I love you,” Rand said in a breathless voice after they’d broken apart.

“I love you too.” Mat kissed him again. “Sa’sheikar oniraya. That’s what you are. My brightest star. And you’re going to make the whole world brighter today.”

They hugged each other tightly for a long moment, and then Rand let go and Mat turned and joined Lan, who’d been talking with Nynaeve, in walking over towards where Cadsuane and the other Aes Sedai and Asha’man were waiting a safe distance away. Rand prayed it was far enough. He hadn’t wanted anyone in the vicinity of Shadar Logoth, but the channelers would need to be ready to protect him and Nynaeve from any Forsaken or other channelers who sensed the massive channeling output and came to investigate. And of course Mat and Lan had refused to stay behind.

Selfishly, Rand was glad Mat was here. Feeling his love and encouragement and even his simple presence in that corner of his mind, so clearly due to their close proximity, made Rand feel stronger. Braver.

Elayne’s and Aviendha’s bonds were muted at this distance, but still a comfort, a warmth inside him. They couldn’t feel much from him either, but they would definitely sense Nynaeve’s channeling and would know that today was the day. Rand hoped they wouldn’t worry too much. Hoped it would succeed and succeed quickly so that he and Mat could go home to them. They’d been gone a month now, and it felt like years.

Rand turned to Nynaeve. The smile she gave him was shaky, but her grip was firm when she took his hand and squeezed it. “Ready?” she asked.

Rand squeezed back. “Ready.”

Aviendha woke early and left Elayne sleeping in their bed to ask the three Maidens currently guarding Elayne’s apartments if they had anything they would be willing to sell her. “I would like to give Elayne a gift,” she said, fighting down a blush. The Maidens all knew about the relationships between the four of them, but Aviendha still was not accustomed to acknowledging such private matters in front of others, even her former spear-sisters.

Enaila grinned. “I think Elayne Trakand already knows that she has your regard.”

“Not a regard gift. A…” Aviendha blushed harder. “A devotion gift.”

Devotion gifts were given rarely, and they always held great weight. Typically an Aiel would give their lover a devotion gift for one of two reasons: to reaffirm devotion after a grave argument or a dangerous battle, or to celebrate a new phase in the relationship, such as a marriage or an additional spouse or sibling-spouse. Or a child.

Enaila, Sulin, and Jalani all knew the seriousness—and the private nature—of devotion gifts, so rather than teasing Aviendha or prying into her reasons for the gift, they merely nodded, and Sulin and Jalani led her to the Maidens’ quarters while Enaila remained behind guarding the door. Some of the other Maidens Elayne had brought to Caemlyn were on duty elsewhere, but a few were in their rooms; they had opted to take rooms in the palace rather than sleep among the Wise Ones’ tents so as to be closer to Elayne, and Rand while he had been in Caemlyn, in the event of an attack.

They greeted Aviendha and she explained the purpose of her visit, and they all went to gather up the belongings they would be willing to sell and lay them out for her inspection. Aviendha had considered going into the city to purchase something, but had swiftly discarded the idea. Elayne had all the wetlander jewels and silks she could wish for; Aviendha wanted to give her something that was Aiel.

Yet as she surveyed the jewelry and trinkets before her, she wavered. They were very fine to her eyes, but Elayne was accustomed to much finer. What could Aviendha give her that she did not already possess?

Then her eyes fell upon a necklace in Sulin’s hands. It was simple, an uncarved piece of polished ivory hanging on a thin chain. Aviendha had an idea. “This will do nicely, if you are willing to part with it, Sulin,” she said.

“I am.” Sulin passed her the necklace and shook her head at the bracelet Aviendha tried to give her in exchange (not Rand’s bracelet, of course, just one of many wetlander bracelets Elayne’s maids had added to Aviendha’s wardrobe). “I will accept no payment for a devotion gift between my sisters.” The Maidens still saw Aviendha as a sister in some ways, and doubly so for those who considered Rand a first-brother as Sulin did. Those Maidens also saw Elayne and Mat as siblings.

Aviendha thanked her and returned to Elayne’s apartments. The sun had not yet risen, so Elayne would be asleep for a while longer. Aviendha should have enough time. She settled herself cross-legged on the floor of the sitting room and pulled out her belt knife, and she began to carve the ivory pendant.

The pendant was small and the design simple, so it did not take her long. But she barely managed to keep her knife from slipping when she felt an abrupt change in her bond with Rand. His presence had been stationary southeast of Caemlyn for a few weeks, but it had just jumped to some location that was west and farther away. Far Madding to Shadar Logoth.

So it was happening today. He was preparing to cleanse saidin. Had the Asha’man been dealt with successfully, or had Rand had to leave Far Madding before all the traitors had fallen into the trap? Was Mat well? The first-sibling bond Aviendha shared with him was less detailed than a Warder bond, and she could feel nothing of him at this distance.

Aviendha tried to put it out of her mind. Whatever was going to happen in Shadar Logoth today, she could do nothing to help. She blew away the shavings and smoothed her thumb over the pendant’s surface. It was now engraved with a lily, a replica of Elayne’s personal sigil. And it would also remind Elayne of Rand and Mat and the lilies they had left for them, and function as a very literal gift of devotion because of the meaning that Andor’s flower language assigned to lilies.

Aviendha put the necklace in the pouch at her belt just as Essande Dawlish entered the apartments to wake Elayne. Aviendha considered stopping her—Elayne needed her rest, now more than ever—but she knew that Elayne had many things to do today and would not thank Aviendha for causing her to sleep later than she wanted to. Perhaps Aviendha could persuade her to have an early night tonight.

“They’ve moved,” was the first thing Elayne said upon waking.

Aviendha nodded; Elayne did not need to explain what she meant. “Mat is still with him?”

“Yes. Still alive and not in any immediate danger,” Elayne said, to Aviendha’s relief. Being unable to sense Mat made her uneasy, and she was thankful Elayne could.

As Essande Dawlish was dressing Elayne, Aviendha suddenly felt an enormous amount of saidar being channeled somewhere to the west. She and Elayne whipped their heads towards the west-facing window in unison. The sensation was not wholly unexpected, since they knew Rand had just arrived in Shadar Logoth and knew his intended purpose there, but even so Aviendha could not have imagined how…bright it would feel. Like a blazing beacon.

“Blood and ashes,” Elayne said. “That will attract every channeler in the world. Forsaken included.” Worry permeated their bond.

Aviendha would not so much as hold Elayne’s hand in front of Essande Dawlish—the woman knew near every secret of Elayne’s personal affairs and had never exposed any, but there were limits of decency—but she did her best to muffle her own worry and project reassurance across the bond. “Mat and Aan’allein will protect them,” she said. “And you know we cannot interfere.” Rand and Nynaeve had impressed upon both of them many times how dangerous that would be.

Elayne sighed. “I know.”

The day proceeded, and the beacon continued to blaze and Aviendha and Elayne to worry. Aviendha was in awe of Elayne for being able to ignore the frenzied emotions Aviendha could feel in their bond and focus on her meetings with Andoran nobles and foreign merchants.

She would be a truly capable queen. Aviendha could not understand how the other nobles could continue to grapple over the throne rather than recognizing that Elayne was the best of them and standing aside for the sake of the clan—country, rather, in this case. Wetlanders were strange.

After those meetings, they Traveled to Cairhien. In the long term Elayne hoped to split her time equally between Andor and Cairhien, but right now, with things in Andor so unstable and uncertain, she could only spare the occasional few hours’ visit to the Sun Palace. Berelain sur Paendrag Paeron was administering Cairhien in Elayne’s absence and did an admirable job, according to Elayne, and today she had many pieces of good news to share with Elayne and only a few bad.

Though Elayne’s stress returned went they went back to Caemlyn, of course. Meeting with Talmanes Delovinde was next on the agenda. He was loyal to Elayne to the death, not only because of Mat but also because he was Cairhienin and Elayne was now his queen, and a queen to whom he credited the return of relative stability to his homeland after a year of famine and civil war. But even though Elayne had no cause to doubt him or the Band, Arymilla Marne’s army posed a threat, and her siege of the city grew more worrisome each day.

Again today Talmanes Delovinde urged Elayne to let him bring more men into the city, but again she refused. Only the Band’s Andoran soldiers were stationed in Caemlyn, and the rest were joined with Davram Bashere’s army outside the city, training together and awaiting new orders from Rand or Mat. Aviendha knew that Elayne feared the damage to her reputation—and to the people’s trust in and loyalty towards her—if it began to be muttered that she was holding Caemlyn with a foreign army. Aviendha found it foolish not to take advantage of every warrior at your disposal, yet she admired Elayne for sticking so firmly to her own code of honor, even if that code sometimes seemed odd to Aviendha.

In the afternoon they found time for a bath, and they shared one tub, as was their custom. Elayne did not understand why Aviendha found holding hands in front of Essande Dawlish more intimate than bathing together in front of her, and Aviendha did not understand why Elayne did not understand. Though Aviendha did send Essande Dawlish away partway through so that she would not watch Aviendha wash Elayne’s hair. That would have been too intimate.

Since they were alone now, Aviendha allowed Elayne a few kisses. Then she had Elayne move to sit between her legs and turn around to settle back against Aviendha’s chest so that Aviendha could wash her hair. Elayne had such beautiful hair, even more beautiful than Rand’s; he agreed and did not mind Aviendha saying so. Being permitted to wash it was a privilege of which Aviendha had not yet grown insensitive. She could still remember the mortification and shame of accidentally walking in on Mat washing Elayne’s hair in Salidar, the fluttering of interest and longing that had been her first sign that her feelings for Elayne were not sisterly in nature.

Smiling, Aviendha pressed a kiss to Elayne’s cheek and rested one hand on her stomach while the other continued to rake through her wet hair. How far they had come. Elayne and Rand were her partners and Mat her first-brother, and now they were expecting two babies together. Babies for whom Aviendha would be a mother as much as Elayne would, because Elayne loved her and wanted to share that joy and duty with her. Even as uncertain as the future was, it was hard not to smile when Aviendha thought about that.

Once, she had thought she would spend her whole life wedded to the spear. She had never had any interest in having a child or a spouse, or even a lover, which was permitted for Maidens. After she had given up the spear, the Wise Ones’ talk of finding her a husband so that she could bear children and do her duty in carrying on the Aiel had sparked feelings akin to terror.

But now that it was Elayne and Rand and Mat rather than some faceless husband, it felt so different. Aviendha still doubted whether she would ever wish to bear a child herself, but she was so excited and proud to be a mother. Because she would be doing it with her brother and the spouses of her heart. She did not know if she would be good at it—Elayne was so much warmer and more maternal than Aviendha was, and Aviendha had never been good with children, what if she lacked the instinct even when her own children arrived?—but she was determined to throw her whole heart and effort into it.

Hence the devotion gift. She had not yet presented Elayne with the necklace since it was near impossible to find a moment alone with her during the day, but she hoped she would have an opportunity after they finished their bath.

Unfortunately, the bath was soon interrupted by Birgitte. “Blood and ashes, you two! It’s the middle of the bloody day!” she complained, clapping hands over her eyes. “Though I suppose it’s my own fault for not putting the pieces together with Essande out in the sitting room cross that you kicked her out of your bath.”

Aviendha hastily removed her hands from Elayne’s hair, flushing. “We are only bathing, Birgitte,” she said. “Nothing improper.”

“Yes,” Elayne said, annoyance in the bond, “and we were having quite a lovely time—”

“I’ll bet you were,” Birgitte muttered.

“—so this had better be important. Well?”

“Dyelin’s returned,” Birgitte said. “And with the High Seats of Mantear, Haevin, Gilyard, and Northan.”

All four were important Andoran Houses, and judging by the relief and joy and hope in the bond, their interest in meeting with Elayne was welcome news indeed. She told Birgitte to entertain the guests and send Essande Dawlish back in, already making haste to finish rinsing off all the soap and clamber out of the tub. Aviendha did the same.

“Essande, the green silk with the sapphires, I think. And sapphires for my hair, too. The large sapphires,” Elayne said, then turned to Aviendha with a grin. “Maybe you should wear silks and gems just this once more, Aviendha. Dyelin won’t mind, of course, but the others aren’t used to Aiel. They might think I’m entertaining a stablehand.”

The bond said that Elayne was joking—they often teased each other good-naturedly about their different taste in clothes—but Aviendha studied the wardrobes carefully. This meeting was very important to Elayne, and since she was honoring Aviendha by allowing her to accompany her to it, the least Aviendha could do was honor her in return by dressing in wetlander clothes to help her make a good impression on the High Seats.

“Just so these High Seats will be properly impressed. Do not think I will do this all the time,” Aviendha added gruffly. “It is a favor to you.”

Elayne’s bond and face were startled for a moment, then delighted and touched. Aviendha blushed and turned her attention to the clothes Essande Dawlish was laying out for her to choose from. Many wetlander clothes had been made for Aviendha these past weeks in Caemlyn, but she wore them rarely.

But…not because she did not like them, she thought as she deigned to let Essande Dawlish help her into a blue silk gown (wetlander dresses could be very complicated to put on and take off). On the contrary, silk felt wonderfully cool and slippery against her skin, like water made fabric, and she liked the beautiful colors of all her dresses. She liked how—how elegant they made her feel, and how they made wetlanders more likely to take her as one of them and not gawk so much.

She also liked how pleased Elayne and Rand were when she wore such dresses. Aviendha knew they found her equally beautiful in her Wise One’s skirt and blouse, it was only the novelty of seeing her wear clothes uncharacteristic of her that excited them—just the same as when Elayne had borrowed a shirt and trousers of Mat’s to sneak out of the palace and walk among her people unrecognized—and Aviendha certainly would never alter her manner of dressing only to please her partners. But, well, she did not mind that they enjoyed seeing her in wetlander silks.

No, it was not that Aviendha disliked wetlander clothes. It was more that she was afraid the Wise Ones would see her wearing them and shame her for it. Sometimes Aviendha shamed herself for it. She liked wetlander silks and soft beds, she spent more time in a wetlander palace than the Wise Ones’ tents, she had wetlander partners and a wetlander first-brother and soon would have wetlander children. Was she abandoning Aiel ways? Was she abandoning her people?

Aviendha allowed Essande Dawlish to arrange her hair into a neat bun at the nape of her neck and cover it with a silver net, but she declined any jewelry. The silver snowflake necklace from Egwene and ivory rose-and-thorns bracelet from Rand were the only jewelry she ever wanted.

“Those colors look beautiful on you,” Elayne said, equal appreciation in her voice and in the bond, and Aviendha blushed deeply.

The meeting was…of mixed success. All four High Seats showed inclination to support Elayne’s claim to the throne, but all four were children unaccompanied by any older advisors. Aviendha could feel Elayne’s dismay and exasperation, but she hid it well and handled the High Seats smoothly, at least in Aviendha’s inexpert opinion. Aviendha was not skilled in the little intricacies of wetlander politics. Elayne claimed that Andor did not play the Cairhienin Game of Houses, but it certainly seemed like it to Aviendha at times.

After that Elayne met with Reene Harfor and Halwin Norry, and as that meeting was drawing to a close, Monaelle arrived to see Elayne. Her eyes went straight to Aviendha—to her wetlander clothes. Aviendha flushed in shame and lowered her own eyes to the floor.

Monaelle dismissed Birgitte, Halwin Norry, and Dyelin Taravin, but allowed Aviendha and Reene Harfor to remain. “You mustn’t take Aviendha to task about her clothes, Monaelle,” Elayne said once the door had shut again. “I asked her to wear them, and she did as a favor to me.”

Aviendha’s initial reaction was gratitude towards Elayne, but then as she realized what she had just thought, she was disgusted with herself. She ought to have felt shamed that Elayne was attempting to take toh that Aviendha had incurred herself, not grateful! She really was becoming wetlander soft.

She forced herself to meet Monaelle’s eyes as Monaelle studied her with a cool gaze. “Partners should give one another favors,” she conceded after a moment. The Wise Ones also knew about all their relationships, as did Reene Harfor (though she did not know about Rand), who showed no sign of surprise at this statement. “You know your duty to our people, Aviendha. So far, you have done well at a difficult task. You must learn to live in two worlds, so it is fitting that you become comfortable in those clothes.” Aviendha let out a breath, but then Monaelle continued. “But not too comfortable. From now on, you will spend every third day and night in the tents. You can return with me tomorrow. You have a great deal to learn yet before you can become a Wise One, and that is as much your duty as is being a binding cord.”

Aviendha felt as if air had been taken out of the room. Sleep in the tents every third night? Away from Elayne? She could not do that. She could not, not when Rand and Mat were gone. Elayne needed Aviendha with her every night to keep her company and comfort her in her worries for their men. And Aviendha needed Elayne for the same things.

She looked at Elayne. Elayne offered her a sad smile, the bond sorrow mixed with resignation. Elayne did not want her to sleep in the tents, but she understood that Aviendha had a duty and would not object to her fulfilling it.

Aviendha turned back to Monaelle. “I will spend every third day in the tents,” she said, “but not every third night. I will not spend any nights in the tents.”

Monaelle raised an eyebrow. “Did it sound a suggestion?”

Aviendha found herself lifting her chin, the way Elayne did when she wanted to project authority and confidence. “I know my duty to my people. But Elayne is one of my people now as well,” she said. “She is the wife of my heart, and so long as we are both in the same city, I will never sleep apart from her, not even for one night.”

She glanced sideways at Elayne. Her eyes were shining, mouth wobbling a little, and there was worry and gratitude and hope in the bond. But she said nothing, no doubt not wanting to shame Aviendha by intruding on a matter that was between her and Monaelle.

Monaelle was frighteningly silent for a long moment. Then, to Aviendha’s bewilderment, she smiled. “So you do have a backbone. That is very good,” she said, sounding almost…proud. “You may continue to spend your nights under this roof, but we will expect to see you among the tents every third day beginning tomorrow.”

Aviendha beamed. “I will be there,” she said. “Thank you.”

Monaelle inclined her head. “And besides, it will be well for Elayne Trakand to have a partner with her every night in her current condition,” she said. “To ensure that she is sleeping and eating well, and to help soothe her aches and moods as her pregnancy progresses.”

That did startle Reene Harfor. Aviendha had never seen the sturdy woman startled before. “Pregnancy?” she gasped. “Oh, my Lady! Is it true?”

“It is,” Elayne said, smiling. “That’s why I invited Monaelle to speak with us today. Yesterday she mentioned that she had some dietary recommendations she would like to pass on to you, Mistress Harfor.”

Aviendha could feel Elayne’s instant regret when Monaelle started telling Reene Harfor that all sweets and strong flavors were to be cut out of Elayne’s diet. Reene Harfor absorbed every word and promised that the changes would be made immediately. After a brief discussion of what other changes ought to be made to Elayne’s current way of life—namely more sleep, which Aviendha thoroughly approved of—they both left, and Elayne and Aviendha were finally alone.

“No sweets,” Elayne fumed. “Burn me, how am I supposed to go eight whole months with no sweets? Not even so much as honey in my tea!”

Aviendha did not laugh, not wanting to make light of Elayne’s troubles, but the accusatory look Elayne shot her told her that she felt her amusement in the bond. “Perhaps I can sneak you sweets every once in a while,” Aviendha offered, and Elayne grinned.

She stepped closer and slid her arms around Aviendha’s waist. “You stood up to Monaelle for me,” she said. “It was—oh, Aviendha, it was wonderful. Thank you. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“I did not only do it for you,” Aviendha said modestly. “I did not want to sleep apart from you any more than you wanted me to.”

Elayne leaned up to give her a peck on the lips. “You felt so ashamed when she first arrived,” she said. Aviendha tried not to wince; pointing out someone’s shame only shamed them further, but she knew that was not Elayne’s intention. She was only trying to have a conversation about Aviendha’s feelings, as she liked to do. “Because of your clothes? You don’t ever have to wear them again if you don’t want. I’m sorry if I’ve forced you to dress in a way that isn’t comfortable for you.”

“You have done no such thing,” Aviendha assured her. “I do like wearing these wetlander clothes, on occasion. And…and that is what shames me. I fear that I am abandoning my people.”

Elayne’s face softened into understanding, and she lifted her hand to cup Aviendha’s cheek. “Clothes don’t define a person. Or a people,” she said. “Regardless of how you dress, your heart and soul and mind are Aiel. And always will be.”

Aviendha smiled at her, grateful. The words did make her feel better. The wetlands had changed her in many ways—some for the better—but no matter what, her heart would always be Aiel.

Then she remembered the necklace. “I have something for you. A devotion gift.”

“A devotion gift?” Elayne said, curiosity sparking in the bond. And eagerness. Elayne did so enjoy gifts. “Is that like a regard gift? Like the bracelet Rand gave you?” She chuckled. “Even if it was an accident on his part.”

Aviendha laughed too. At the time the entire situation had been unbearably frustrating and confusing, but now she looked back fondly on the foolish wetlander who had declared his interest in Aviendha in front of all the Maidens without realizing it or meaning to. “It is similar,” she said. “But a regard gift is meant for the beginning of a courtship, while a devotion gift is for a longstanding partnership.”

She pulled the necklace out of her pouch and offered it to Elayne. Elayne took it and lifted it to study it. A smile lit up her face. “My sigil,” she said. “And it matches your bracelet. Wherever did you find this?”

“Sulin gave me the necklace, but I carved it myself.”

“You made this? For me?”

“A devotion gift is a promise,” Aviendha said. “A way of showing your partner your commitment to them after or during a big change in your lives or in the relationship. A child, for example. I wanted to give you a devotion gift to tell you that—that I am with you in this. That I will care for you and our children every day until I wake from the dream. That it is the greatest honor of my life to share in this with you.”

There were tears in Elayne’s eyes, but she was beaming, joy and love dancing across the bond, so strongly that Aviendha could not keep from smiling too. Elayne gave her several quick kisses. “I love you,” she said between each one. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Aviendha smiled wider and pressed her forehead against Elayne’s. “And I love you.”

Elayne held the necklace out. “Will you put it on me?”

Aviendha took it and unclasped it, and Elayne turned around and gathered her hair out of the way so that Aviendha could fasten the necklace around her neck. Elayne turned to face Aviendha again, smiling down at the necklace and tracing over the carved lily with her finger.

The little ivory pendant was a stark contrast to the sapphire necklace she had already been wearing. “You need not wear it all the time if it does not suit your gowns or other jewels,” Aviendha said.

“Don’t be silly. I’m never taking this off,” Elayne declared, and she pulled Aviendha in for a fierce kiss.

Just as their kisses were starting to heat up enough for Aviendha to wonder whether she could convince Elayne to miss her next meeting and come to bed, that blazing beacon in the west vanished. They stopped kissing and turned to stare in that direction just as they had that morning, even knowing they would not be able to see anything.

Aviendha searched her bond with Rand for information. He was still in the same location. Still alive. That was all she could tell. “Mat?” she asked.

“Still there, still alive,” Elayne said. “Do you think Rand succeeded?”

Aviendha laced her fingers through Elayne’s and they gazed out the west-facing window together, as if they could see all the way to Shadar Logoth. All the way to the husbands of their hearts. “We will know soon enough,” she said.

Shadar Logoth was completely gone. But Mat couldn’t have cared less about that, because the massive black dome in the sky was also gone and he could feel in the bond that Rand had let go of the Source, which meant only one thing. “It’s over,” he said, scrambling to his feet.

“Hold, boy!” Cadsuane barked. “It may not be safe—”

Mat was already running towards Rand, Cadsuane’s voice fading into the wind. Rand had said to wait until it was over, and Mat had. He had sat there for hours, watching Rand sitting still as a statue and growing paler and paler, feeling the pain and crushing exhaustion in the bond. Mat had been terrified Rand was going to burn out or—or die. But Rand was still alive, thank the Light, and Mat couldn’t sense any injuries.

Still, Mat’s stomach turned over when he saw how clammy Rand looked, unconscious on the ground, and felt how cold his skin was. “Rand?” Mat said, shaking him gently. “Rand, wake up. Can you hear me?”

Rand showed no signs of waking, but he was all right. Mat was sure he was. He would know if he wasn’t. Nynaeve was unconscious too, and Mat reached over and let out a breath of relief when he felt her pulse still beating.

He heard running footsteps and looked up to see Lan approaching. “She’s alive. They both are,” Mat said, and the relief on Lan’s face was perhaps the most emotion Mat had ever seen there.

Mat let Lan tend to Nynaeve and returned his own attention to Rand. Even though Mat could feel in the bond that he was alive, the sight of his chest rising and falling was a comfort. Mat gathered Rand’s cloak off the ground and removed his own so that he could drape both over Rand to combat that iciness in his skin.

He heard shouts and whoops of laughter behind him, and he turned and saw several Asha’man talking excitedly, hugging each other, weeping. Narishma’s voice came floating over, full of wonder. “It’s clean. Light, it actually worked!”

Smiling, Mat laid down with Rand and wrapped his arms around him, snuggling close. “You did it, oniraya,” he whispered, brushing his nose against Rand’s. “You did it.”

Chapter Text

Before he even opened his eyes, Rand knew that Mat was right next to him, and that soothed him when he did open them and saw he was in an unfamiliar bedroom. “Mat? Where are we?” His voice came out hoarse and croaky.

Abruptly, his face was peppered with kisses. “You’re awake!” Mat said. “Oh, thank the Light!”

Mat was lying in bed next to Rand, hand cupping his cheek; Rand nuzzled into the warmth of his touch. Mat’s face was awash with relief, as was the bond. What had happened to make Mat worry so? The events of Shadar Logoth were a blur. Rand must’ve passed out by the end of it, but he couldn’t remember.

“Where are we?” he asked again.

“Tear. The estate of a Lord Algarin,” Mat said. “Cadsuane’s idea. I wanted us to go straight back to Caemlyn, but she pointed out” —knowing Cadsuane, and knowing Mat, “pointed out” was a mild term for the conversation that had occurred— “that it would be better for you and Nynaeve to recuperate somewhere you could have utter privacy. Too many servants wandering around the Royal Palace, it would’ve been hard to keep two unconscious channelers a secret for long. But this manor’s isolated and Algarin is in debt to Cadsuane, apparently, so he’ll keep our presence quiet, as will his handful of servants.”

“Is Nynaeve all right?” Rand said, and let out a relieved breath when Mat nodded.

“Tired, but otherwise fit as a fiddle,” Mat said. “She woke up yesterday.”

Yesterday? “How long have I been out?”

“Nearly three days now.”

Rand sat bolt upright. “Three days?!”

“You see why I was worried?” Mat said with a grin, sitting up too. “So, how do you feel? Are you hurt? Flinn said you weren’t, and Nynaeve confirmed it, but neither of them could say why you weren’t waking up. They figured your body had just been pushed so far that it was forcing you to stay unconscious so it could catch up on some energy.”

“It does feel that way,” Rand said wryly. He was exhausted still, though not in any pain aside from a headache, and he told Mat so. Then he asked, “Did it work? Saidin?”

Mat smiled. “It did. All the Asha’man say so,” he said. “Try it for yourself and see.”

Rand took a steadying breath, suddenly overwhelmed. For so long he had dreamed of what saidin would feel like without the taint, and he couldn’t believe he was—was finally about to find out. Trembling a little, he closed his eyes and reached for the Source.

But to his shock and dismay, that dizziness and nausea that had accompanied saidin of late was still there. And that…face floating in his mind, just for an instant before it flickered away. The man who’d helped him against Sammael at Shadar Logoth. If saidin truly was cleansed, why was all this still happening?

Rand opened his eyes to see Mat frowning. “The sickness is still there. The new one, I mean,” Mat said. He would be able to feel an echo of it thanks to the bond.

Rand nodded, disappointment battering at the edges of the Void. Disappointment so crushing it almost succeeded in breaking the Void. Had it not worked? Was saidin still tainted?

But then the sickness faded, and Rand felt it. Pure, clean saidin rushing through him, free of the oily sludge of the taint. Everything was enhanced the way it always was—colors were more vivid, Mat’s unique scent filled his nostrils, he could see the grain of the wooden bedposts—but now that the sickness had left him, there was nothing to spoil it. No foul sludge to wade through to reach saidin. It was just there. Untainted.

“How does it feel?” Mat asked.

Rand realized that his cheeks were wet with tears and his face stretched by a broad smile. “Clean,” he said, more tears spilling out. “Mat, it feels so clean.”

Smiling, Mat pulled him in for a hug. Rand held him tight but didn’t let go of saidin. He never wanted to let go again.

Clean again, Lews Therin whispered, sounding awestruck. And then he tried to seize saidin from Rand.

Rand startled and tried to shove him away, to wrestle back control. He managed it, but it felt harder than it used to, a longer struggle that took more effort. Once he was sure Lews Therin had fled, Rand let go of saidin, gasping through the renewed sickness.

Mat had pulled back and was watching him worriedly. “What happened?” he said. “You’re scared.”

He was, Rand realized as he let go of the Void and noticed how hard his heart was pounding. “Lews Therin,” he said. “He’s not gone either. He tried to take control of saidin, and pushing him away was—I almost couldn’t do it.”

Mat’s brow furrowed, the worry in the bond deepening. Though, oddly, there was some relief too. That was explained when he said, “So Lews Therin really is there. Always has been. It was never the taint or—or madness.”

“What if it is?” Rand said. “Just because the taint is gone doesn’t mean that men already in the throes of madness will be sane again. What if—what if the madness has already taken me so far that cleansing saidin wasn’t enough to—”

“You’re not mad,” Mat said. The firm confidence in his voice was mirrored in the bond. “I would know if you were, and I would tell you. You’re not mad. Lews Therin, the new sickness—it all must be something else.”

“What? What else?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.” Mat took his hands. “It worked, Rand. You cleansed saidin. That’s a huge victory. You’ve saved so many lives. Men who can channel don’t have to be afraid anymore. Let’s just take a moment to appreciate that before worrying about the next problem, yeah?”

“I wish I could afford to,” Rand said softly, but he did let Mat hug him again. And let himself relax into the embrace.

Rand had a thought on what the next problem would be, but it was a few days before he found the courage to voice it to Mat. Then, Mat looked at him like he really had gone mad. “You want to ally with the Seanchan?” he demanded. “Bloody ashes, Rand—”

“Not an alliance. A truce,” Rand said. “Just until after the Last Battle. We can’t fight the Seanchan and the Shadow at the same time. We just can’t.”

“So let’s wipe out all the bloody Seanchan first and then deal with the Shadow!” There was disgust in the bond. Rand hoped it was disgust for the idea, and not for Rand for suggesting it.

“We can’t and you know it. Our forces are stretched too thin,” Rand said. “If we’d been able to take Ebou Dar back, maybe, but we weren’t, and now it’s too late. The Seanchan have spread too far to be easily contained. I hate the thought too. I despise it. But I think it’s our only option. To fight the Shadow, we’ll have to do things we don’t like. Work with people we hate, just as long as we both hate the Shadow more than each other.”

Mat sighed and flopped down into a chair by the fire. Rand took the one beside it. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Mat muttered. “That’s what the men in my head are saying.”

“The one in mine too,” Rand said, and Mat let out a snort of laughter.

But his amusement was short-lived. “What about their damane?” he said quietly. “Are we just going to let them keep them? Let them use them as weapons? Let them force them to fight in the Last Battle, because they’re property who have no say in what happens to them?”

Rand didn’t try to stifle the wave of nausea and self-loathing that washed over him. He deserved it. “I’m not sure that we have a choice about that either,” he said, just as quietly. “Their entire military is built on the damane system. We can’t afford to destabilize that until after the Shadow’s been defeated.” He closed his eyes, feeling so sick with himself. “Light, just listen to me. It’s disgusting.”

Mat sighed. He felt disgusted too, but he did lay a hand on Rand’s arm. “I think you’re right. And I hate that you are,” he said. “What…what will Elayne and Aviendha say?” When they found out that Rand was making nice with people who would collar and enslave them as soon as look at them.

“I don’t know.” That most quietly of all.

Gawyn looked tired and worried when he arrived for breakfast with Elayne and Aviendha. “Morning,” he said, jaw cracking with a huge yawn. Meetings in Tel’aran’rhiod usually meant a poor night’s sleep, and it had been Gawyn’s turn to go last night.

“I see you, Gawyn Trakand,” Aviendha said rather formally. She didn’t hate Gawyn anymore and had forgotten his toh for Rand’s captivity, but only because the toh had been towards Rand and Rand had said it didn’t exist, which meant Aviendha had had no choice but to forget it likewise. Elayne knew that Aviendha still didn’t much like Gawyn, and she was fairly certain Gawyn was afraid of Aviendha, but both of them were making an effort for her sake and she appreciated it.

Mat and Gawyn had also been making an effort before Mat had left, though for them being pleasant to each other always looked like they were having sore teeth yanked out. Rand had no trouble being pleasant to Gawyn, unless he was in one of his black moods, but Gawyn tended to avoid Rand, more out of guilt and shame than out of fear or dislike, Elayne thought, no matter how many times Rand had said he didn’t blame him for the box.

“Good morning,” Elayne said, already warding the room against eavesdropping. “Bad news?”

Every seven nights, one of them met with Egwene and either Nynaeve or Rand in Tel’aran’rhiod (Nynaeve, Rand, and Mat only had one dream ring ter’angreal between them, as did the Caemlyn group, and Mat hadn’t practiced enough to go on his own safely; he’d found Tel’aran’rhiod very unsettling anyway the one time he’d gone with Elayne accompanying him). Last week Aviendha had reported that neither Nynaeve nor Rand had been present. Had they not come again last night? Had something happened to them? Rand and Mat both felt safe in the bonds, but—

“No one’s hurt or in any immediate danger,” Gawyn said, and Elayne exhaled in relief. Although she didn’t like his emphasis on immediate. “Nynaeve was there. She’s fine and says that Rand, Mat, and Lan are too. Saidin’s been cleansed, and neither she nor Rand were hurt in the process but it did take a lot of energy out of them and they were unconscious for a few days, which is why they weren’t at last week’s meeting. But they’re both well now, they went to Tear to rest and recover. Nynaeve says that Rand and Mat send their love to both of you and hope to come home soon, they just have a few matters to deal with in Tear first.”

Elayne smiled and nodded, taking Aviendha’s hand (under the table, out of Gawyn’s sight, so as not to embarrass her) and squeezing it. They’d succeeded, and everyone was unscathed. Thank the Light.

But why choose Tear as a place to recover? What were the few matters? Either Nynaeve hadn’t wanted to specify them in front of Gawyn, or in front of Egwene—perhaps they were matters that didn’t align with Aes Sedai interests?—or else Rand and Mat hadn’t even told Nynaeve what they were. Or maybe they really were minor things not worth describing. Whatever it was, Rand and Mat would share everything with Elayne and Aviendha when they returned and could speak in person.

“But Egwene has a message for you,” Gawyn continued. “She wanted me to start by telling you that she has everything under control and you’re not to panic and hare off to try and help her.”

That was not a promising start. “Light! What has she gotten herself into?” Elayne demanded.

Gawyn looked grim. “She’s been captured by Elaida and is being held in the White Tower.”

Elayne shot to her feet in a panic. “We have to go to her!” she said. “If she told you exactly where she’s being held, I can make a gateway and we’ll sneak her out, no problem—”

“Calm yourself, Elayne. Egwene said that she does not want us to panic,” Aviendha said, which was awfully rich considering the panic of hers that Elayne could feel in the bond.

Aviendha tugged on Elayne’s sleeve, and Elayne sat down again and forced herself to take a few slow breaths. “What does she mean, she has everything under control?” she asked Gawyn. “She must be shielded, and likely scheduled for trial and execution! How can she possibly think she’s going to worm her way out of this one on her own? If she’s just being too proud to ask for help, you can tell her to take her idiotic pride and shove it—”

“She said they’re not going to try or execute her. She swore to me her life is not in danger,” Gawyn said, though his expression was tight and upset. He didn’t like this any more than Elayne did. “The reason she doesn’t want a rescue is because she thinks the situation’s given her an opportunity. Even in just a few days at the Tower she’s seen a great deal of tension and mistrust among Elaida’s faction, which she believes she can use to destabilize and hopefully unseat Elaida without needing to resort to war or siege, or any bloodshed at all, though that’s awfully optimistic if you ask me.”

Elayne mulled the idea over. “That is both astonishingly clever and dangerously overconfident.”

“That’s Egwene,” Gawyn said dryly, and Elayne laughed despite her worry. “I gave her my word that we wouldn’t interfere, and she gave me hers that as soon as she does feel herself to be in danger, she’ll speak in our dreams to ask for a rescue. They keep her dosed with forkroot, but it doesn’t prevent her from dreamwalking or entering Tel’aran’rhiod.”

“Thank the Light for that.” Elayne turned to Aviendha. “What do you think?”

“I will never like the idea of leaving my near-sister in the hands of her enemy,” Aviendha said, “but Aes Sedai business is not mine. We must let Egwene do what she thinks best.”

Elayne looked back at Gawyn. “And are you really all right with this?”

“Of course I’m not,” he said. “But I don’t see how we have a choice. Can’t rescue someone who will refuse to be rescued.”

His expression was even more pained now, and Elayne touched his shoulder. “It’s not easy to love the Amyrlin Seat,” she said sympathetically.

Gawyn gave her a sad smile. “No harder than it is to love the Dragon Reborn.”

They finally turned their attention to their food. Aviendha wolfed down her spiced ham, but Gawyn picked moodily at his. Elayne didn’t have much appetite either, though she would have if she’d gotten to have spiced ham. She pushed her spoon around the sludgy, flavorless porridge Monaelle had prescribed, frowning at it as if by doing so she could transform it into something appetizing.

“Stop pouting and eat your breakfast,” Aviendha told her.

“I’m not pouting,” Elayne pouted.

“What is that?” Gawyn asked, noticing her porridge for the first time.

“Some sort of foul mush they’re trying to pass off as porridge.”

“Why under the Light are you eating it? Is the kitchen staff angry with you?”

“No…” Elayne glanced at Aviendha, who nodded. They had initially hoped to keep her pregnancy under wraps for the time being, but the change in Elayne’s diet meant it wouldn’t be long before the kitchen staff had spread gossip to the whole palace, and she wanted to be able to tell Gawyn herself before he heard rumors. Light send that Rand and Mat wouldn’t hear any rumors before she’d had the chance to tell them.

“The Wise One Monaelle claims that this porridge is very healthful,” Elayne told Gawyn. “She and Mistress Harfor have made all sorts of changes to my diet because…” She felt a smile tugging at her lips. “Because I’m pregnant.” Just saying the words made pride light up Aviendha’s bond, which in turn made Elayne’s smile widen.

Gawyn’s jaw dropped. “You’re…pregnant?” He looked as if she’d just clubbed him over the head. “You? Are pregnant? With a baby?”

“No, with a horse,” Elayne deadpanned, though she was still smiling. “Two babies, actually. It’s twins.”

Gawyn laughed and leaned out of his chair to throw his arms around her. Elayne laughed too and hugged him back. “Burn me, you’re having a bloody baby! Two bloody babies!” he said.

“Two bloody babies,” Elayne confirmed, more laughter bubbling up.

“Last I checked you were still a bloody baby.”

“You are two years older than me.”

“But so much wiser that it’s always felt like more.” Elayne let go of him to smack his arm, and he laughed again.

Gawyn settled back in his chair and smiled at Aviendha. “Congratulations, Aviendha,” he said.

Aviendha’s expression didn’t flicker, but Elayne could see in her eyes (and feel in the bond) that she was gratified, and deeply touched. Because Gawyn had automatically included her as the babies’ mother without her or Elayne having to say so, Elayne would wager. “Thank you,” Aviendha said with the widest smile Elayne had ever seen her give Gawyn. Which was still only a small close-lipped curve of her mouth, but even so. Progress.

“Do Rand and Mat know?” Gawyn asked.

“No,” Elayne said. “It’s still very early, only six weeks according to Monaelle, and I didn’t find out until after they left.”

“If you’d told me yesterday, I could’ve had Nynaeve pass it along to them.”

“We’re hoping it won’t come to that,” Elayne said. “We’d rather wait until we can tell them in person, although with the way new matters are always arising, it may not be realistic to hope that will be possible anytime soon.”

She tried keep her tone light, but there was a rush of sadness and longing in Aviendha’s bond, and Gawyn reached out to clasp Elayne’s hand where it rested next to that blasted bowl of porridge. “It will be,” he said. “I know they’ll come back to you two the very moment they can.”

Elayne gave him a grateful smile. “I hope so,” she said. “I must say, you’re reacting to all this much better than expected. No lectures about me being pregnant out of wedlock?”

Gawyn snorted. “I’m not Lini. Why would I be prissy about a little thing like that when I never objected to you having orgies every night for—”

“I did not!” Elayne spluttered. “It was hardly every night, and they were not…orgies!” Mat had taught her that word once. Not in the context of what the four of them did in bed, of course, because those were not orgies.

“Three people is a threeway, four or more is an orgy,” Gawyn insisted.

“Well, you’re one to talk, as if I don’t know about you borrowing the ter’angreal all the time to have bizarre Tel’aran’rhiod sex with Egwene—”

“Shut up! That’s not—not any of your business!”

“And my bedroom isn’t any of yours!”

“It’s your fault for being pregnant and forcing me to think about how you got that way!”

The door opened and Olver came in with Thom and Juilin to join their breakfast, and Elayne and Gawyn hastily started gabbing away about the weather. Much to the relief of Aviendha, who’d looked like she was about to die from being subjected to such indecency.

The following week, Aviendha met with Egwene and Rand in Tel’aran’rhiod. Elayne had discovered, to her dismay, that pregnancy made her unable to work the dream ter’angreal, but Aviendha kept excusing Elayne’s absence from the meetings by saying that she was tired and needed a full night’s sleep. So far, nobody had questioned it—they all knew how Elayne overworked herself, and worried about it as much as Aviendha did.

“Are you keeping well, Egwene?” Aviendha asked as they waited for Rand. “Gawyn Trakand told us of your captivity.”

“I am,” Egwene said, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance. “My life is still not in danger, and my efforts to unseat Elaida are already bearing fruit. Some battles I lose, but so far I’m winning the war. How are Gawyn and Elayne?”

“Well, although they are eaten up by worry for you. But they will honor their promise to you not to interfere,” Aviendha added.

Egwene nodded, looking both guilty and relieved. Rand arrived before either could say anything else, and Aviendha beamed at him and nearly ran into his arms. Rand smiled back and held her tight. “Light, it’s so good to see you,” he said, burying his face in her hair.

“As it is to see you,” Aviendha said. Egwene was her near-sister and Aviendha felt comfortable engaging in some intimacies in front of her, but she was grateful that Egwene politely averted her eyes so that Aviendha could kiss Rand.

The three of them shared their news with each other. Aviendha told them that Elayne and Arymilla Marne both lacked enough Houses to gain the throne, and that Elayne was determined to prevail yet worried by the strength of Arymilla Marne’s army and the refusal of the Houses who backed Dyelin Taravin to come over to Elayne’s side. The Band had been able to keep Arymilla Marne’s mercenaries from entering the city so far, but the siege continued and showed no signs of stopping.

Aviendha did not say anything of Elayne’s pregnancy. This was the first time since they had learned of it that Aviendha and Rand would both be in Tel’aran’rhiod together, and she and Elayne had considered informing him, had talked it over earlier tonight, but had decided not to because they still held out hope for an opportunity to tell him and Mat in person, with all four of them together. But they had agreed that if Rand and Mat were away from Caemlyn so long that Elayne’s pregnancy would be visible by the time they returned, then they would tell Rand first in Tel’aran’rhiod so they would not receive such an abrupt shock when they came home. That would not be for months yet, though, and they prayed Rand and Mat would not be gone that long.

Once they had all finished catching up, Egwene bid them goodbye and left for the waking world, but Aviendha and Rand lingered. “What is your business in Tear?” Aviendha asked. Rand had been vague about it just now—most of the news-sharing had been on Egwene’s and Aviendha’s parts, with him keeping fairly quiet. Perhaps he would want to talk about it now that Egwene was gone?

But he shook his head and said, “Matters of politics, but I’d prefer to save the details until we can speak in person. Even in this remote corner of Tel’aran’rhiod, there may be unwanted listeners.”

Aviendha nodded solemnly. She did not trust this place for sharing particularly sensitive information either. They were in Emond’s Field, or Tel’aran’rhiod’s reflection of it, anyway. It was a much larger village than she had expected from Rand’s and Mat’s and Egwene’s descriptions—nearly a city in her eyes, though she suspected Elayne would scoff at that—but she gathered that it had changed a great deal recently, had expanded and seen many new and larger houses built. The first time Rand had seen it, during their first meeting after he and Mat had left for Far Madding, the look on his face had made Aviendha think he was going to weep.

The look on his face now, though…he was not quite meeting her eyes. Was he hiding something? About whatever this Tairen business was? Aviendha did not press him for more than he was willing to share, but she could not help feeling worried. Rand was very careful with his trust and his information, rightfully so, but he never kept important things from his partners. What could he possibly want to hide from Aviendha, or Elayne?

Unless she was misunderstanding his expression. Surely, she must be. He was merely tired, or concerned about eavesdroppers. Some of the Shadowsouled walked Tel’aran’rhiod, after all.

The pair of them stayed a while longer, talking and holding each other and kissing. But no more than that. Aviendha blushed as she thought of Elayne’s reference to “bizarre Tel’aran’rhiod sex.” Aviendha certainly did not trust this place enough to do things like that here with Rand.

At last they acknowledged it was time to return to the waking world. “Give Elayne our love,” Rand said.

“And Mat ours,” Aviendha replied. “Sleep well and wake, husband of my heart.”

Rand looked startled, and she realized what she had said. “Husband of…?”

“Oh,” Aviendha said, blushing. “It is—Elayne and I have taken to referring to each other that way of late, even though we are not actually married. But if you do not wish for me to call you that—”

“No, I—I like it,” Rand said. He was smiling, but there was a touch of sadness to it, Aviendha thought. She could not sense his emotions through the bond, though; it was still muted here in Tel’aran’rhiod because of their great distance in the waking world.

Rand gathered her up in his arms for one last kiss. “I love you. And I’ll return home to you as soon as I can,” he said. “Wife of my heart.”

Preparations for the truce were carried out. While Bashere was away meeting with the Seanchan to arrange negotiations between Rand and their Daughter of the Nine Moons, Mat and Rand didn’t have much to do but wait. Mat halfheartedly suggested spending the time back in Caemlyn, but Rand made up vague excuses not to, and Mat didn’t press him on it. Much as he missed Elayne and Aviendha, he was happy enough to keep putting off the moment of telling them they were going to ally with the Seanchan.

But then Algarin’s manor saw a much-needed moment of joy: Loial’s wedding to Erith. For all his fretting about avoiding his mother so she couldn’t force him to marry, now that the moment was finally here—and, crucially, now that he’d found out Erith wouldn’t try to keep him from having adventures or writing his book—Loial was over the moon.

His joy was infectious, and that made it easy for Mat to smile too and to allow the Seanchan and Lews Therin and Rand’s saidin sickness leave his thoughts for the first time in days. “Are you certain that I look all right?” Loial said, smoothing his jacket. “Ogier weddings are simple affairs, of course, not nearly like the festivities you humans put on—so odd that your weddings are so large when your lives are so short—oh, forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that—but I don’t want Erith to think I’m slovenly or—”

“You don’t look slovenly. You look very handsome,” Mat said, patting him on the arm. “Erith will faint when she sees you.”

Loial’s ears wiggled anxiously. “She will? Will the sight of me make her feel that unwell?”

“Of course not,” Rand soothed him. “Mat meant it as a good thing. That she’ll faint because she’s so overwhelmed, in a good way, about how handsome you are.”

“Oh…” Loial didn’t seem entirely convinced, so they and Nynaeve made a dozen more attempts to reassure him as Lan looked on in amusement.

Finally it was time for the ceremony to begin, and they escorted Loial from his own bedroom—the manor had six Ogier guest bedrooms, which all the visiting Ogier had been thrilled about—and into his mother’s. The chairs in here were far too big for humans. Mat made an attempt to look dignified with his feet dangling well above the floor but didn’t think he managed it.

It really was a simple ceremony. Loial and Erith exchanged short vows and Elder Haman declared them wed, and that was that. Of course, weddings in Emond’s Field weren’t much more complicated, and Perrin had said that his and Faile’s wedding, which was the only human one Loial had attended as far as Mat knew, had been even quicker than the usual version. Perhaps Loial had read about other cultures’ elaborate human weddings in one of those books of his.

Now, Mat was not a sap. He wasn’t. But as he watched Loial and Erith rubbing noses—the equivalent of a kiss to seal the marriage, he supposed—and beaming at each other, he couldn’t help but reach over to take Rand’s hand. Rand laced his fingers through Mat’s, love and affection pulsing across the bond. Mat glanced sideways and saw him smiling. He smiled wider when Mat caught his eye, and Mat smiled back.

But the moment was interrupted by the alarm being raised—Trollocs were attacking the manor. Bloody Shadowspawn had no respect for proper timing.

“Let go of the Power.” Mat sounded so scared. “Light, Rand, what are you doing?! You’ll kill yourself!”

I want to die, Lews Therin wailed. I want to join Ilyena.

Pain was building in Rand’s temples. He made another desperate attempt to wrestle control of saidin from Lews Therin, but the man held firm, determined to kill both of them.

Mat gripped Rand’s arm, saying something else, and Lews Therin snarled. Have to get rid of him, he won’t let me die, he’s always trying to stop me, all three of them are! Have to get rid of them all!

Rand clenched his hands into fists as panic clogged his throat. Lews Therin wanted to—Light, he wanted to kill Mat, and Elayne and Aviendha too, he was trying to—Rand fought with everything he had to keep his hands pinned to his sides so that Lews Therin couldn’t manage whatever weave he was trying to use—on Mat, to—saidin was burning through Rand’s veins, it would be so easy to just let go and give in and—

Why won’t my hands work?

If you ever touch Mat or Elayne or Aviendha, I’ll— What, kill him? That was exactly what he wanted. It’ll feel like losing Ilyena all over again! Rand told him. Lews Therin let out a sob, and Rand felt the painful rush of saidin lessen a little. Was he getting through? You can’t die yet, Lews Therin. We have to reach Tarmon Gai’don or the world dies.

Mat and Logain and Cadsuane were all talking loudly and over each other, Mat still holding Rand. He had no idea. No idea how dangerous Rand was to him, no idea that Lews Therin was trying to—that Rand was trying to—

We can die at Tarmon Gai’don, Lews Therin said. Do you promise?

Yes. I promise. We’ll die then, Rand said. Light send that we die then.

The Power drained out of him and he leaned against Mat for support, suddenly exhausted. But just as quickly he straightened up again and smoothed his face, hardened his heart. “I’m fine,” he said, shrugging off Mat’s hands and Logain’s wary gaze and Cadsuane’s piercing eyes.

And he was fine. He would die at Tarmon Gai’don. For so long he’d held out foolish hope that he could survive it, even wasted one of his questions for the Aelfinn asking if it was possible, but he knew now that it wasn’t, and accepted it.

Saidin might have been cleansed, but Lews Therin was never going away. Rand turned away from Mat’s worried eyes. He had come so close to—he pushed that terror out again, freezing himself on the inside so that Mat couldn’t feel it, wouldn’t realize what Rand had almost done.

What if he couldn’t stop Lews Therin next time?

He had to be stronger than the madman in his head. He had to be hard. Just until Tarmon Gai’don, and then he could finally rest. The people he loved would be safe once he defeated the Dark One. And once Rand was no longer around to hurt them.

Chapter Text

It had seemed like such a good plan at the time. It had been a good plan. Birgitte and Gawyn had finally gotten Mellar to crack and confess that there were Black sisters in Caemlyn and even tell them the address they were staying at. He was still alive, but Elayne would be having him executed as a Darkfriend as soon as she’d finished closing this loop and was certain she had no further need of information from him.

And as soon as she’d gotten out of this bloody wagon.

Perhaps it had been ambitious to go into a house full of Black Ajah in the middle of the night with only Aviendha for backup. But when they’d surveilled the house, there had been only two Black sisters, and Elayne and Aviendha linked would have been more than a match for them given how strong the two of them were in the Power, and how in tune with each other. Their Warder bond seemed to make links between them even more powerful than a normal link would be.

Yes, it had been a good plan. They couldn’t have known that four additional Black sisters would be there, or that they would have some sort of powerful weapon ter’angreal that had been a gift from Moghedien. So now here Elayne and Aviendha were, shielded and tied up in the back of a wagon being taken Light knew where.

Elayne was terrified, but not for herself. Min had said the babies would be born healthy, which meant nothing deadly would happen to them or to Elayne for the next eight months. But there were no such guarantees for Aviendha. If something happened to her and it was Elayne’s fault…

Elayne pushed the thought aside. Birgitte would have sensed that Elayne was in danger. She was coming. She was.

Elayne’s bond with Aviendha felt strangely fuzzed since they were both shielded, but Elayne could feel some muted fear there—fear for Elayne and the babies rather than for Aviendha herself, if Elayne knew her at all. Aviendha did not fear waking from the dream, as she called it. Elayne wished she could reassure her with the reminder of the viewing, but she was gagged and blindfolded and bound in a cramped position with her head between her knees, so she couldn’t even look at Aviendha, much less speak.

All she could do was project calm and comfort and confidence across the bond. It did help lessen Aviendha’s fear, Elayne was relieved to feel, and soon she felt calm and comfort and confidence flowing right back at her.

Aviendha was very close to her, judging by the bond, and Elayne did her best to wriggle over towards where she sensed her presence. She managed to move a few inches, enough that she felt her body brushing up against Aviendha’s.

That comforted Aviendha even further. And Elayne too. They were together, and Birgitte was coming. They would get out of this.

Unease mounted as Mat looked around. The grounds of a grand manor like this shouldn’t be completely empty, with no signs of life or activity. Even the house itself looked deserted, windows dark. He drew Pips up level with Rand and Jeade’en and tugged on his reins to halt him, and Rand halted Jeade’en too.

“It must be a trap,” Mat told Rand under his breath.

“Probably,” Rand agreed, but the bond carried nothing but calm determination. Cold determination, Mat noted with discomfort. Rand hated the prospect of allying with the Seanchan so much that his approach seemed to be to shut off emotion altogether. Practical enough—the men in Mat’s head had done something similar when they’d had to do unsavory things for the good of their cause—but Mat didn’t like feeling it in the bond. It didn’t feel like Rand.

And since the Trolloc attack, Rand had felt even colder, emptier. More distant. Mat still didn’t understand why he’d almost burned himself out like that; Rand had refused to explain and then snapped at Mat for prying, so Mat had dropped the subject. For now.

Surely he couldn’t have been trying to…no. Rand didn’t want to die. He’d told Mat and Elayne so back in Cairhien, and they’d felt in the bond that he meant it.

But he hadn’t felt like himself lately.

“Take my medallion,” Mat said for the dozenth time today, knowing Rand would refuse yet again. “Whether it’s a trap or not, this Daughter of the Nine Moons will have damane ready to—”

“I can protect myself against damane,” Rand cut him off. “You can’t.”

Rand nudged Jeade’en forward without another word. Mat sighed and followed. Nynaeve, Cadsuane, Logain, Narishma, and Sandomere made up the rest of their party, and just from the atmosphere Mat could tell that they were all as uneasy and suspicious as he was. Well, maybe not Cadsuane. Mat didn’t think even the Dark One could make her uneasy.

Then the manor’s doors opened and several women came out. Three sul’dam and three damane. Light, just the sight of those leashes and collars made Mat feel sick. And they were going to ally with these people.

Not ally. Just a truce until after Tarmon Gai’don, and then we’ll crush them like they deserve. No matter how many times he told himself that, it didn’t make it feel any less like rolling over for the Dark One.

A seventh woman came out of the house, the tiniest adult Mat had ever seen, dressed in an odd pleated dress with her head shaved completely bald. The Daughter of the Nine Moons. She perfectly matched the description that had been given to Bashere.

Their party dismounted, and under the guise of checking their saddles, Nynaeve whispered to Rand that one of the women was channeling, according to her ter’angreal, but she couldn’t tell which one because the woman had masked her ability and inverted the weave. Mat’s medallion was cold from the Power being used near him, but it was equally impossible for him to say who was responsible.

He expected this news to prompt Rand to grab saidin in preparation for a potential attack, but their bond remained free of nausea. That nausea had been getting markedly and rapidly worse since saidin’s cleansing. Had it grown so bad that Rand didn’t want to touch saidin at all now?

Instead, the bond remained cold determination. “Mat, stay behind us,” Rand said.

Mat did so without complaint. He knew his own limits. Even with the medallion, he’d be out of his depth in a fight against three damane. Not that that made it any easier to suppress his Warder’s instincts telling him not to let Rand walk into danger ahead of him.

Rand approached the Seanchan women, flanked by Nynaeve, Cadsuane, and the Asha’man. Mat forced himself to walk several steps behind them. Suddenly, once they were only a few paces away, the Daughter of the Nine Moons flickered, turning into a very tall woman, taller than Mat and not far shorter than Rand.

Rand stopped in his tracks, alarm cutting through the cold determination. “Semirhage,” he said.

Before Mat had even gotten a knife out of his sleeve, the world exploded.

Searing pain burst through Mat, the greatest agony he’d ever felt. It made him stumble off balance and his knife landed in Semirhage’s shoulder rather than her heart. He clutched his left hand with his right—the pain radiating from that hand was unbearable—and was bewildered to feel it unharmed, until he realized.

It wasn’t his own pain that he was feeling.

Rand was on the ground, and Mat fell to his knees beside him, Semirhage momentarily forgotten as his hands scrabbled over Rand to find his injuries. The old wound on his side had split open, judging by the blood soaking his coat and the echo of pain in Mat’s own side, and his left hand was—

Mat’s heart dropped into his stomach. Rand’s left hand was gone. There was nothing but a burned, mangled stub sticking out of his sleeve.

Rand was so pale, his eyes closed and blood seeping out of a cut on his forehead. “Rand?” Mat said, though he could barely even hear his own voice amidst the chaos around him. Mat cupped Rand’s head in both hands and gave him a desperate shake. “Rand, wake up, please, Light of my heart, look at me—”

Rand’s eyes fluttered, and Mat nearly wept in relief. A soft noise of pain escaped Rand’s throat and his eyes opened fully, though he seemed to have trouble focusing on Mat. “Mat? What…?”

“You’re hurt,” Mat said, unable to keep his voice from shaking. “Just lie still, I’ve got you. It’ll be over soon.” Would two Aes Sedai and two Asha’man be a match for a Forsaken and three damane?

A flash of panic cut through the dazed pain in Rand’s bond. He tried to get to his feet but couldn’t manage it, falling back down again with another pained moan. A fireball whizzed over their heads and Mat threw himself down flat on top of Rand, dodging the fireball and shielding Rand with his body.

“Have to help them,” Rand panted, and how he could even manage to get words out with the agony he was in was beyond Mat.

“They’ve got it under control,” Mat said with more confidence than he felt. “You’re hurt, Rand.”

But Rand was finally reaching for saidin, nausea filling the bond, and it renewed his strength enough for him to nudge Mat off him and heave himself to his feet. Mat scrambled up too and gripped his ashandarei with one hand and Rand with the other, whether to support him or protect him, he didn’t know.

The fighting was over, Mat realized, relaxing ever so slightly. One pair of sul’dam and damane were dead, and the others and Semirhage were all frozen still, no doubt shielded and bound by the Power. Gateways were opening around them, and more Aes Sedai and Asha’man were pouring out, accompanied by Bashere’s army and the fifty Maidens who’d come to them in Tear from Cairhien. Somebody had managed to send up the distress signal.

The nausea in the bond eased up and vanished; Rand must have released saidin again upon seeing that the danger had passed. “Nynaeve,” Mat said as Bashere was ordering his men to search the house. “Nynaeve, Rand’s hurt.”

Nynaeve turned from Semirhage and hurried towards Rand, grief all over her face as her eyes fell on his hand. “Oh, Light,” she said. “Rand, I—I can’t Heal it back to the way it was, I’m sorry—”

“It’s all right,” Rand said. “I’m fine.”

He held out his arm, and Nynaeve gently took it in her hands. Mat watched as the burned, bloodied skin healed and knitted itself together, forming smooth skin that stretched down to neatly cover the end of his wrist. Even the dragon mark grew back. But the hand didn’t.

Nynaeve did a Delving to search for other injuries. Something was wrong with Rand’s eyes, but she didn’t want to risk trying anything without having more time to study the issue. And she couldn’t manage to close the old wound on his side back up again; she tried three times and looked like she was about to cry from frustration.

At last Rand told her she’d done her best and nudged her aside, just as Bashere approached. He clasped Rand’s shoulder. “At least you’re alive,” he said. “I’ve seen men hurt worse.” His tone was gruff, but his eyes were sad as he looked at the spot where Rand’s hand used to be.

Mat too was aching with a sorrow so strong it brought a lump to his throat, but in the bond Rand just felt…numb. And coldly determined once more. “Me too. I’ll have to learn the sword all over again, though,” Rand said, as casually as if he were talking about the weather. “I’ll have to work out new ways to do everything.”

How could he be so bloody calm after just losing his entire bloody hand? Mat exchanged a worried glance with Nynaeve, but neither of them said anything. Perhaps Rand was still in shock, still in the tunnel vision of battle. And right now he was the Lord Dragon; Mat knew that he hated to reveal weakness or vulnerability in front of the people he commanded. Or in front of a Forsaken. Once they were done here, they could finally return to Caemlyn and Rand could grieve in private, in the safety of being alone with his partners.

They all turned their attention to Semirhage. “How can you be sure who she is?” Cadsuane asked Rand.

That question gave Mat pause. How had Rand recognized Semirhage? He’d never seen her before…or at least, not in this lifetime.

“He’s insane,” Semirhage said, icy and regal as a queen despite her invisible bonds and Mat’s knife sticking out of her shoulder. “Graendal could explain it better than I. Madness was her specialty. But I will try. You know of people who hear voices in their heads? Sometimes, very rarely, the voices they hear are the voices of past lives. Lanfear claimed he knew things from our own Age, things only Lews Therin Telamon could know. Clearly, he is hearing Lews Therin’s voice. It makes no difference that his voice is real, however. In fact, that makes his situation worse. Even Graendal usually failed to achieve reintegration with someone who heard a real voice.” A cold smile crossed her face. “I understand the descent into terminal madness can be…abrupt.”

That did get an emotional reaction out of Rand, though his face remained as smooth as ever. Terror and dread and panic battered the bond. Mat quelled his own fear and grief and protectively tightened his grip on Rand’s arm. Semirhage was—was lying. That was all. She was just trying to upset Rand and throw him off. Saidin was cleansed, Rand couldn’t go mad. He couldn’t.

But cleansing saidin hadn’t gotten rid of Lews Therin’s voice, or the nausea and dizziness of channeling, or the face of the man who’d helped them in Shadar Logoth. If anything, Lews Therin’s presence in Rand’s head was stronger than ever now.

Mat shoved those thoughts aside. As Cadsuane started saying something else, Mat whispered to Rand, hoping none of the others would hear, “She’s lying to bait you. You aren’t going mad. Whatever’s causing the problems with Lews Therin, we’ll figure it out and fight it. Together.”

Rand nodded, his terror and dread and panic dissipating. But nothing positive replaced them. No emotions at all replaced them. Only that cold determination.

Ashes, how could Rand’s emotions change so quickly, from frenzied terror to hard nothingness in a second? It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation in the bond, but this felt colder than the usual Void, somehow. Emptier than empty. Rand’s bond felt like a stone, a hard, unfeeling knot in the back of Mat’s mind.

How could Rand do that mere minutes after Semirhage had blown off his hand, mere seconds after she’d claimed he was terminally insane? Why wasn’t he crying?

It was decided that Semirhage would be taken prisoner; Cadsuane wanted to interrogate her for information about where the other Forsaken were and what they were planning, and Rand agreed. Mat thought it would be safer to kill her and have done with it, but it would be an immense help if they could get anything out of her. Asmodean had said she’d often been an ally of Demandred and Mesaana, both of whom were still at large and neither of whom they’d heard even a whisper about yet.

Then Rand ordered that the surviving sul’dam and damane be released and sent back to Ebou Dar to carry word of his intended truce to the real Daughter of the Nine Moons. Nynaeve wasn’t happy about leaving the damane collared and sending them back to the Seanchan. Mat wasn’t either, but the men in his head told him that Rand was right that freeing the damane would be seen by the Seanchan as taking them prisoner and would thus make hopes of a truce impossible.

The men in Mat’s head always did seem to tell him things he hated to hear.

“Let’s go home,” Mat said once everything was squared away. “Nynaeve, can you make us a gateway to Caemlyn? Do you know this place well enough yet?”

“Not Caemlyn,” Rand said, startling Mat. “We should go to…to the Stone. We can regroup there.”

“Why not regroup in Caemlyn? There’s nothing else to do immediately. We can spend at least a few days there before moving on to the next thing.”

“The other night in Tel’aran’rhiod Aviendha said that the political situation in Caemlyn is more precarious than ever,” Rand said. “I’d better keep my distance for a while longer so as not to complicate things for Elayne.”

Mat eyed him uncertainly. Yes, Rand had been full of excuses about staying away from Caemlyn due to his reluctance to tell Elayne and Aviendha about the intended alliance with the Seanchan, but…Mat got the sense it was more than that this time. He felt so distant in the bond. Like he was pulling away from Mat. Which meant he’d be pulling away from Elayne and Aviendha too.

But Mat knew there was no use arguing the point with Rand right now, so he sighed and nodded. “All right. Back to the Stone, then.”

Hopefully Rand would open up to him after he’d had some time to recover from the shock of it all. Hopefully. But with that distantness in the bond, Mat was half afraid he’d wake up tomorrow and find that Rand had vanished through a gateway somewhere without him.

Elayne nearly wept with relief when she felt Birgitte approaching and heard the wagon door opening and her and Gawyn’s voices calling to them. Aviendha was safe now. Thank the Light, Aviendha was safe now.

Gawyn untied Elayne, and she gratefully stretched out limbs and muscles that had been kept crammed up in a ball for hours. Not as bad as Rand’s time in that box—it had only been for a few hours rather than the better part of two weeks, and at least Elayne had had Aviendha with her to provide steadiness and comfort, even if it had also meant having Aviendha’s safety to worry about—but Elayne didn’t think she would be too fond of dark or cramped spaces either after this.

The thought of Rand brought fresh anxiety. At some point during the past few hours, Elayne had felt a sudden sting of pain in her bond with Rand—it must have been a great deal of pain indeed for her to be able to feel anything when he was so far away. Aviendha had felt it too, judging by the spike of fear in her bond just following that sting of pain in Rand’s.

But his bond had settled down again, and Elayne hadn’t sensed any more danger in either his or Mat’s. Nor did she now. They were both all right. But something had happened.

And Rand’s bond felt…different, somehow. Not because he was in danger, that wasn’t the strange feeling, but…usually, at this distance, Rand’s and Mat’s bonds felt like cozy hearths in the back of her mind, faint, but warm and comforting. Mat’s still felt that way, but Rand’s…Rand’s felt like a chunk of ice.

Elayne pulled off her own gag and blindfold, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light. Birgitte was untying Aviendha, and she and Gawyn were both spattered with blood. Because of the battle Elayne had heard going on outside the wagon, most likely. But Elayne thought it was mostly other people’s blood; she could feel that Birgitte had no serious injuries, and Gawyn also looked unharmed but for a few shallow gashes that had already stopped bleeding.

He was pulling Elayne in for a fierce hug. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Did they hurt either of you?”

“We’re fine,” Elayne assured him. “They didn’t hurt us, just tied us up and threw us in here.”

“I bloody told you that already,” Birgitte reminded Gawyn, but the bond said that she felt as relieved as he looked.

Aviendha spat the gag out as Birgitte pulled off the blindfold. Elayne threw her arms around her and squeezed her tight, and Aviendha made a small, choked noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob and hugged her back—right in front of Gawyn and Birgitte, which was a mark of how truly shaken she was.

“I should never have let you come with me into that house,” Aviendha said. “If anything had happened to you—”

“But nothing did, and nothing would have,” Elayne said. “Min said that no harm will come to me or the babies at least until they’re born—”

“That’s not exactly what she said,” Birgitte muttered.

“—so I was never in danger. But you—oh, Light, Aviendha, I was so scared.” Elayne was crying too. “I was so scared I’d lose you. I shouldn’t have let you come with me.”

“Do not be a fool,” Aviendha said firmly. Well, as firmly as she could while crying. “I am your Warder and the wife of your heart. Wherever you go, I go too.”

Two days passed. Rand stayed in bed the whole time. It wasn’t that he was tired from his Healing, he just…couldn’t make himself get up, no matter how many times his mind anxiously ran through the long list of things he needed to do. So he spent two days in bed, staring listlessly at the wall and feeling phantom pains in a hand that wasn’t there anymore.

He could still feel his hand. Kept trying to move his fingers. When he did manage to doze off, he would forget for a second after he woke up, would lift his hand up to scratch his cheek and then remember.

He was in the bedroom in the Stone where he and Mat and Elayne had first told each other they loved each other, lying in the bed where they’d kissed for the first time, where they’d had sex for the first time. But not even those memories were enough to lift the…the fog that had settled around him. Maybe one of his black moods, as his partners had always called it, but that didn’t feel right this time. Rand didn’t feel black, didn’t feel dark or angry. Just numb. Empty. And so tired.

He didn’t need the bond to tell him that Mat was worried. But worried about him, or worried because of him? Maybe those had only been words, what he’d said to Rand after Semirhage had explained to them all about his terminal madness. Maybe Mat was afraid of him.

Rand wouldn’t blame him if he was. Rand had tried to kill him, after all, even if Mat didn’t know it.

On the third day, Mat came back from his own lunch carrying yet another tray of food for Rand. “I’m not hungry,” Rand told the wall.

“The honeycakes were really good,” Mat coaxed him. “Hadn’t even spoiled yet, though they might if you don’t eat them up quick. Just a few bites?”

“I don’t want it, Mat.”

“You’ve barely eaten since we got here.”

“I didn’t realize you were my bloody nursemaid,” Rand said with as much bite as he could muster.

But rather than snapping back, Mat just sighed. He’d been doing that a lot the past three days, and Rand hated it. Hated himself for making Mat worry.

Rand heard the tray being set down on a table, then felt the other side of the bed sinking with Mat’s weight. Rand didn’t roll over to face him, just kept staring at the wall. Mat’s hand went into his hair, stroking it lightly, but the touch didn’t soothe Rand or cheer him up like it usually did.

“You can cry, Rand,” Mat said. “It’s all right.”

Rand furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Your hand. I know you’re hurting. A good cry might make you feel better.”

“I feel fine.”

“Liar.”

Mat tugged Rand to sit up and around to face him. He looked so sad. Why was he sad? Rand was fine. It was just a hand, and he had another one. He didn’t need two hands to channel anyway. He would manage just fine. He was alive. That was all he needed to be until Tarmon Gai’don. And after that…

To live, you must die. Rand and Mat and Elayne and Aviendha had debated and analyzed the Aelfinn’s words over and over again, but had never been able to figure out what they might mean. Well, “you must die” was pretty unambiguous to Rand, even if his partners kept insisting there was a hidden meaning. Maybe the Aelfinn had meant that if he died, then his loved ones would be able to live. That would be as good as living himself. Better, since he would no longer be around to worry them or hurt them.

You promised, Lews Therin said accusingly. You promised we would die at Tarmon Gai’don.

I know, Rand told him. We will.

Mat took Rand’s right hand and left stump in his own hands. “It’s just us here,” he said softly. “You can take the mask off.”

It was something Mat had said to him often, whenever Rand struggled with coming back to himself after too long as the Lord Dragon, but right now the words finally broke through his numbness and sent his anger flaring hot. He yanked his hands—his hand and stump out of Mat’s grip.

“It’s not a mask, Mat. This is who I am,” he said coldly. “I am the Dragon Reborn. And you’ve always hated that, haven’t you? You try so hard to have Rand al’Thor without having the Dragon. To love Rand al’Thor while hating the Dragon. You only love the naïve shepherd who doesn’t exist anymore. You only love the boy I used to be, not the man who’s actually before you now. You want so badly for me to be someone I’m not. Someone you could love, because Light knows you can’t love the man I am.”

The ensuing silence seemed much too loud. Mat stared at him, his face stiff and hurt. Was he going to burst into tears? Slap Rand across the face? Sick up? The bond said all those were equally possible.

And it would be for the best. Rand should have pushed all three of them away long before now.

But then Mat leaned forward and took Rand’s face in his hands. “How dare you?” he said, voice trembling. “How dare you say that I don’t see you or love you? How dare you think it? Do you remember how those Seanchan women flinched when you said you were the Dragon Reborn? That’s how near everyone reacts to those words, isn’t it? Not me. When I hear the phrase ‘Dragon Reborn,’ do you know what I think? I think of home. I think of safety. I think of family. I think of love. I think of you. Because you are all of those things to me. The Dragon Reborn is all of those things to me.”

Rand let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the words, by the sincerity in them and the love in Mat’s eyes and bond. Mat…Mat meant it. Every word. How could he mean it? The Dragon Reborn was a monster.

Rand was a monster.

“I hate how much pain and suffering being the Dragon Reborn brings you. I hate that it makes you feel you have to be cold and hard even when you’re alone with me,” Mat continued. “But I don’t hate the Dragon Reborn. The Dragon Reborn is part of you, and I love every part of you. I don’t care what names or titles you go by, I don’t care how many hands you have, I don’t care that there’s a dead man in your head. I love you, Rand. Every part of you. It hurts me to see you cold and hard, but it never makes me love you any less. Semirhage was wrong, but even if she wasn’t, even if you did go mad, I would never love you any less. Not even by a hair.”

In the face of such—such stalwart, undeserved, unconditional love, Rand felt like something had cracked open inside him. “I promised Lews Therin we could die at Tarmon Gai’don,” he blurted out.

Mat’s eyebrows drew together. “What? What do you mean?”

“When the Trollocs attacked Algarin’s manor, Lews Therin seized control of saidin. Everything I did during that battle, it was all him.” Now that that dam had cracked, the words were tripping over themselves in their haste to come out. “He wouldn’t let go afterwards. He wanted to die and join Ilyena. He wanted to kill us both. And—and he wanted to kill you for trying to stop him. I promised we could die at Tarmon Gai’don, and he let go. But that wasn’t—that wasn’t why I promised, Mat. I promised because I meant it. Because I almost let him kill you—I almost killed you. I promised because I was so scared I wouldn’t be able to stop him next time that—that I wanted to die too.”

So much horror and pain and grief came into Mat’s eyes that Rand had to close his own so he wouldn’t have to see it, although the bond made the effort futile. Those same emotions were battering him there, but Rand didn’t try masking the bond. He deserved to feel how badly he’d hurt Mat. He should never have told him about this.

Mat exhaled loudly. Then: “Thank you for telling me.”

That was not at all what Rand would’ve expected him to say. He opened his eyes again. Mat’s expression was still the same, though tears were starting to slip down his cheeks. But he was also still holding Rand’s face in both hands. He hadn’t let go of him.

“Aren’t you scared?” Rand said. “I tried to kill you, I—”

“But you didn’t. You stopped Lews Therin and you protected me. My medallion would’ve kept me safe anyway,” Mat said, even though he knew as well as Rand that there were plenty of ways to kill someone with the Power without channeling on them directly, and the medallion didn’t protect against those. “I am scared. I’m—I’m fucking terrified. But not because you tried to kill me.” Rand realized that Mat’s hands were shaking, but they still didn’t let go of him. “Wanted. That’s what you just said, that you wanted to die. Wanted, not want. Do you still want to?”

“I don’t know,” Rand whispered.

Mat guided Rand’s head to rest on his shoulder and then wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. “Well, I don’t want you to die,” he said. Somehow his tone sounded firm even though his voice was shaking. “Elayne and Aviendha don’t want you to die. Nynaeve and Perrin and Egwene don’t want you to die. Your dad, Lan, Thom, Juilin, Olver, Birgitte, Bashere, Rhuarc, the Maidens, none of them want you to die, Rand. If—if you can’t manage to want to live for yourself, can you try to do it for us?”

Rand hated himself for the pain Mat was in, and he couldn’t bring himself to voice the words on the tip of his tongue. It doesn’t matter. I am going to die at Tarmon Gai’don. All the prophecies say so, and even if they didn’t, with Lews Therin and the sickness getting worse, and the wound from Ishamael—I’m going to die, and soon. It doesn’t matter what anyone wants.

Rand couldn’t hurt Mat even more by saying all that, so instead he just buried his face in the side of Mat’s neck and let him hold him. He still couldn’t quite manage any tears, but he felt close to it. And he found that he was taking some comfort from the warmth of Mat’s touch for the first time since Semirhage, maybe since that promise to Lews Therin.

Rand cracked his eyes open again and found himself looking at the bed. He could almost see them, himself and Mat and Elayne, sitting on that bed, confessing their feelings for the first time. The wonder in Mat’s eyes and the pure joy in Elayne’s when they’d found out their love was returned. The sunbursts Rand had given them—a declaration of love in Emond’s Field, a symbol of new beginnings. Rand could remember feeling so warm and safe and content, so certain that as long as he had the two of them, everything would be all right. So full of hope for the new beginning they were embarking on together.

They’d been so young then. It had been only a year ago, but Light, they’d been so young.

“I’m sorry,” Rand said eventually.

“Don’t be,” Mat said. “It’s not your fault that you feel this way.”

“No, not for that. For those—those awful accusations I threw at you before.”

“Oh.” Mat kissed the top of his head. “I forgive you,” he said, and that was so much better than if he’d said that it was all right or that Rand didn’t have anything to apologize for.

At last Rand pulled back, but not by much, and Mat kept his arms around him. “Why don’t you want to go to Caemlyn?” Mat asked.

Rand should’ve known Mat wouldn’t be fooled by his excuse. It took a minute and some effort for him to speak, but Mat waited patiently. “I’m afraid to face Elayne and Aviendha and tell them I want to ally with the Seanchan,” Rand said, and Mat nodded; he felt the same way, Rand knew. “And afraid for them to—to see me like this. Not just because of my hand.” Though he did dread the imagined disgust on their faces when they saw that. “I’m broken, Mat. Inside.”

Mat’s mouth trembled, but he shook his head and reached up to touch Rand’s cheek. “There’s something Elayne told me once. The morning after—after Tylin.” Rand felt a hot flash of anger and pain, as he always did when he thought about that vile woman and what she’d done to Mat. “Elayne and I bonded that morning,” Mat continued, “and I was afraid to let her see what a mess I was inside. And I’ll never forget what she said to me then.” He pressed his forehead against Rand’s. “‘I know you and love you down to your very soul. You never have to be afraid to let me see you. Even the messy parts.’ That’s how all three of us feel about you too, Rand.”

Rand swallowed hard and gave a slow, hesitant nod. He hadn’t wanted Mat to see him like this either, but Mat had, and he hadn’t turned away from Rand or stopped loving him. Elayne and Aviendha wouldn’t either. Rand had known that all along, of course, had known it of all three of them, but it was—it was hard to listen to that logic coming from his own mind. His mind lied to him all the time. Hearing Mat say it made it easier to believe.

Rand should want them to turn away from him and stop loving him. But he couldn’t manage to want that. He wasn’t strong enough to want that.

Mat’s hand was stroking soothingly through Rand’s hair. “I know what it’s like to feel broken. To feel like you’ll never be yourself again. But I am now,” he said. “True, I’ll never be quite the same as I was before it happened, but I am myself. Because the three of you helped me. Nynaeve always says that anything short of death can be healed. If you’re broken, it’s not beyond repair. And who better than Elayne and Aviendha and me to try and help you feel whole again?” And that was so much better than if he’d denied that Rand was broken. “Let’s go home, Rand. Please. You need them. And I do too.”

Because trying to fix Rand was too hard for Mat to do on his own. He wouldn’t want to make Rand feel guilty by saying that, but Rand knew he was thinking it. It wasn’t fair to ask Mat to bear the full weight of Rand’s burdens all alone.

Besides, Rand wanted…he wanted to go home too. The thought of Elayne’s and Aviendha’s beautiful faces, their warm arms, their comforting voices—he missed all of it so much, missed them so much, that his chest ached with a nearly physical pain.

He should send Mat back alone and distance himself from all three of them. If he was strong, that was what he would do. And yet…it didn’t feel like the strong thing to do. On the contrary, Rand realized that he felt strongest, calmest, sanest, most like himself when he was with his partners and his friends. And if the Light and the world were to have any chance at the Last Battle, Rand had to be whole when he faced the Dark One.

He exhaled and nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

“Ellorien will need to be watched,” Elayne said, and Dyelin, Birgitte, Gawyn, Thom, Juilin, and Talmanes all nodded in agreement. There was a little disapproval in Aviendha’s bond, but not nearly as much as used to come when Elayne made plans to spy on someone. Aviendha was coming to acknowledge, reluctantly, that spying was necessary sometimes. “And Jarid Sarand will no doubt cause trouble, unless we can subdue him first. Talmanes, send scouts to gather information about his army and their location, and once we have that, we’ll—”

She cut off abruptly, overwhelmed by the sensation she’d been longing to feel for six weeks now. Rand’s and Mat’s bonds springing to life inside her head.

Elayne let out a shaky breath, tears pricking her eyes and a broad smile spreading across her face. They were somewhere upstairs, probably the attic room that was used for Traveling. Mat’s foremost emotion was relief, but there were other things mixed in, anticipation and happiness and something nervous too, some sense of trepidation, and a deep, aching pain. Rand’s emotions were mostly the same, but much quieter versions than Mat’s—his bond wasn’t as warm as usual, but it was better than the icy emptiness of the past couple days, Elayne was relieved to feel.

For both Rand and Mat, that pain felt emotional, not physical. What had caused it? Were they bringing bad news?

But Light, even if they were bringing bad news, they were both alive, and they were here.

Aviendha’s bond was dancing with so much joy that Elayne was almost surprised to see the woman herself standing still. Elayne certainly felt like dancing. She reached out to give Aviendha’s hand a quick squeeze. “They’re back,” she whispered, beaming. “They’re home.” Aviendha was beaming too.

“Who?” Gawyn asked.

“Who do you think, idiot?” Birgitte said. She was smiling almost as widely as Elayne, though whether it was because she was happy for Elayne or because Elayne’s own happiness was so infectious in the bond that Birgitte couldn’t restrain herself from a secondhand smile, Elayne didn’t know.

“Oh. Oh!” Gawyn smiled too and nodded at the door. “Go on, you two. We’ll fill you in later on anything else we discuss.”

Thom and Juilin were also smiling, no doubt having caught on to what had just happened. As was Talmanes, who had been in such a constant state of stress thinking that Mat had thrown Rand over for Elayne, and that Rand would appear in Caemlyn and blast the city to smithereens when he discovered this, that Elayne had had to take pity on him and explain the truth of the situation. Not ideal to do so without Mat’s (and Rand’s) permission, but she didn’t think Mat would want his right-hand man to suffer heart failure over a misunderstanding of his love life. Besides, Talmanes had given his word not to share the information with anybody else, and the word of Talmanes Delovinde was worth far more than that of most people.

Dyelin’s expression was curious, but she didn’t say anything. Like the rest of Caemlyn, she knew Mat was Elayne’s Warder and suspected he was also the father of her children, so she’d likely put together that Elayne had just sensed him returning, but she must have been wondering why Elayne had spoken in the plural. Perhaps it was time to trust Dyelin with the truth about Rand—she’d proven her loyalty countless times since Elayne had arrived in Caemlyn—but Elayne wasn’t going to tell her anything unless all her partners agreed, and she definitely wasn’t going to tell her anything right now when Rand and Mat were already moving through the palace, closer and closer with every second.

Elayne and Aviendha excused themselves and hurried out of the Map Room. Aviendha started to head in Rand and Mat’s direction, but Elayne grabbed her hand and tugged her the opposite way. “Let’s wait in our rooms for them. They’ll find us,” she said, keeping her voice low against passing servants. “I for one am most certainly planning on making a scene when I see them, and I’d rather that not happen in the middle of a corridor for everybody and their mother to witness.”

Aviendha laughed and conceded the point, and they went to their apartments as quickly as they could without running. Elayne told the Guardswomen that she was expecting General Cauthon and a friend of his any moment now, that the Guardswomen were to let them into her rooms without delay, and that they were then not to let anybody else in until Elayne told them otherwise. Or unless it was a world-ending emergency.

The Guardswomen assured her on all three counts, though they couldn’t suppress grins. No doubt they thought Elayne was about to give the father of her children the welcome home of a lifetime. Which she very much hoped she was, but before anything else she and Aviendha were going to tell them about the babies.

Elayne stifled a flash of anxiety. They would react well. They would.

Would they?

“That was not prudent, what with how much gossip there already is about how many people you take to bed,” Aviendha said after she’d woven against eavesdropping. “Now the Guardswomen will know for certain that you are entertaining three at the same time.”

“I truly could not care less right now,” Elayne said, and Aviendha laughed. Rand and Mat were only a few corridors away now. “I want to tell them about the babies straightaway, if you agree?”

“I do.” Aviendha must have sensed Elayne’s nerves at the prospect, for she kissed her forehead and said, “It will go well.”

Elayne nodded, feeling soothed. Mostly. But she still began pacing up and down in front of the door, gnawing on her lip and absentmindedly fingering the carved lily on the necklace Aviendha had given her.

What if it didn’t go well?

“General Cauthon and his friend,” said one of the Guardswomen outside Elayne’s door, eyeing them with a smirk. “The Queen is expecting you.”

Rand blinked in surprise. “The Queen?” Mat said. “So the Succession is over? Elayne won?”

“It wasn’t a Succession, General. A Succession is only when the throne passes from one House to another. But House Trakand is most certainly still on the throne. The other Houses made it official three days ago.”

Mat let out a soft laugh, grinning broadly. A small smile stretched Rand’s mouth too. Elayne had done it. He’d always known she could, of course, even when she’d doubted it.

The Guardswomen let them pass, and no sooner had Rand shut the door behind them than Elayne and Aviendha were flying into their arms. Mat was squished between Elayne and Aviendha, the three of them a tangled, laughing, crying mass, and Rand wasn’t laughing or crying but he was smiling, his arms around all of them together.

He dropped his Illusion and let go of saidin, clutching his partners a little tighter to anchor himself through the moment of dizziness and nausea. Once it had passed, he drank in the smell of Elayne’s hair pressed against his nose and the sturdy warmth of Aviendha’s hand on his back and the comfort of three bonds overflowing with love, all of it as familiar to him as breathing. He’d seen Aviendha a few times in Tel’aran’rhiod since they’d parted, gotten to kiss her and hold her there, but it just wasn’t the same as doing it in person.

Light, it felt good to be home. He already felt a little more like himself. A little more whole.

“You’re back,” Elayne wept. “I missed you so much, we both did—”

“There I was thinking you two would enjoy a little break from us,” Mat joked, but his voice was as watery as the laughs Elayne and Aviendha let out.

Elayne kissed Mat and Aviendha kissed Rand, then Elayne kissed Rand while Aviendha pressed her fingers to Mat’s cheek and leaned in to rub her nose against his. And then Elayne kissed Mat again, and so it went for several minutes.

Only when the initial euphoria of reunion had subsided a bit did Elayne say anxiously, “Rand, you were hurt. Aviendha and I both felt pain in the bond, a few days ago, and it must have been serious for us to feel it at such a distance.”

They’d felt that, all the way in Caemlyn? Mat’s smile faded, sorrow coming into his bond, and worry came into Elayne’s and Aviendha’s.

Without a word, Rand held out his left hand and tugged his coatsleeve up, and Elayne and Aviendha gasped in unison as they saw the empty space where his hand used to be. Worry turned to grief, stabbing through both bonds so sharply that Rand’s throat grew tight, though still no tears welled up.

Elayne was blinking back tears, though. “Oh, Rand,” she said, voice quivering. Was she horrified? Disgusted?

Aviendha reached for his hand—for the stump—then hesitated. “May I touch?” she asked.

She—she wanted to touch it? “If you want to,” Rand said uncertainly.

Aviendha’s hand wrapped around the end of his arm and Elayne’s joined it, both of them holding it gently. Rand exhaled shakily, part of him still ashamed, humiliated at how—how horrible it looked, how ugly, yet the greater part by far was relieved. They didn’t think it looked horrible or ugly. Their bonds would have told him so if they did, even if their faces hadn’t betrayed it. But neither bond held any disgust, only sadness and sympathy and protectiveness and love.

Elayne gripped his arm a little more firmly, as if in reaction to feeling his insecurity. “How did it happen?” she said. “And was anyone else hurt? Nynaeve—”

“She’s fine,” Mat hastened to assure her, and she let out a relieved breath. “She Traveled here with us, actually, but she and the other Aes Sedai went to find Birgitte to ask about…accommodations for their guest.”

“Semirhage,” Rand supplied, and Elayne’s and Aviendha’s eyes widened. “It was a fireball courtesy of her that took my hand. But we captured her.”

“And brought her into my palace?” Elayne said indignantly.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Rand said. “But I can’t let her out of my sight. Or Cadsuane, for that matter. I don’t trust her to watch Semirhage unsupervised. And I did give Cadsuane only a week to try getting information out of her, and then we’ll execute her.”

Elayne sighed. “Well, if it’s only for a week, I suppose I can allow it. As long as nobody outside our trusted circle finds out and starts a panic, and as long as you’re absolutely sure she won’t be able to escape,” she relented, with some reluctance. “Where under the Light did you run into Semirhage?”

“It’s…a long story we can get into later. I’d rather not tell it now,” Rand said. “Right now I just want to—to be with you.” To cherish a few happy minutes with them before they found out he was trying to ally with the Seanchan.

Aviendha nodded. “That is just as well,” she said. “Elayne and I have very pressing news to share with you.”

“About Elayne officially being Queen of Andor?” Mat said, smiling. “We heard a little something about that. About bloody time those idiots saw you were the best choice!”

Rand slid his arm around Elayne’s waist and kissed her temple. “Congratulations, my lion,” he said. “There was never a doubt in my mind that you’d succeed in the end.”

Elayne smiled, but her bond was suffused with nerves. Aviendha’s was too. The news must be something else, then. But what? What were they nervous about telling Rand and Mat? Unless they were just nervous about Semirhage. But no, this was a jittery sort of nervousness mixed with excitement, different from the alarm and horror of learning Semirhage was in the palace.

“Thank you,” Elayne said. “But that’s not the news we meant.” She took a deep breath and looked at Aviendha, who gave her an encouraging smile, some of her nerves transforming into rock-solid confidence, likely for Elayne’s benefit.

“You’re nervous,” Rand said. “Is it bad news?”

“Not at all. It’s wonderful news,” Elayne said, then amended, “Well, we think it is, but you may feel differently and—and that’s all right.” What under the Light was that supposed to mean?

Mat looked as confused and worried as Rand felt. “So…?” he said.

“So…I’m pregnant,” Elayne said, and Rand’s heart stopped. “Min had a viewing that it will be twins, a boy and a girl, and that they’ll both be born healthy.”

Rand stared at her, numb. She was…she was pregnant? Light, the Last Battle was coming, they couldn’t bring children into this world. The Last Battle was coming, and it had to be less than nine months away, or eight or seven or however far along Elayne was.

Which meant…which meant that in all likelihood the babies wouldn’t be born until after the Last Battle. After Rand—

Numbness turned to longing and grief so deep and aching that they made tears spring to his eyes.

Rand realized everyone was turning to look at him, worry in all three bonds. Even Mat’s, worry for Rand overpowering his own rush of emotions at the news. “Rand?” Elayne said softly, reaching out to take his hand.

“I…I won’t…I won’t get to meet them,” Rand choked out. “Tarmon Gai’don is only a few months away, it has to be, maybe even less, and I’ll—I’ll never get to meet them.” His voice broke. “I’ll never get to meet our babies.”

That same aching grief came into all their bonds too, but immediately, three pairs of arms were around him. “You will,” Elayne said, all stubborn determination. “You will, Rand.”

“We will make sure they know you,” Aviendha said quietly, and Rand knew she was not saying the same thing Elayne was.

“We bloody well will.” Mat sniffled. “Their father, Rand al’Thor, with the ugliest face and the thickest head in the Two Rivers. Their father, Rand al’Thor, who saved the entire bloody world for them.”

The last of that dam broke away, and for the first time in weeks, Rand started to cry.

Mat felt more relieved about Rand crying than Rand would’ve ever expected him to. “There we go,” he murmured. “Let it all out, oniraya. We’re here. We’ve got you.”

Rand sank into their embrace and sobbed and sobbed, and all the while his partners held him tight and rubbed his back and petted his hair. He cried for his hand, he cried for the two damane he’d sent back into enslavement and the third who’d been killed, he cried for the thousands more who would be used as weapons at the Last Battle because of his truce with the Seanchan, he cried for all his sisters and mothers among the Maidens who’d died for him already and all the ones who would in the future, he cried for Moiraine who had given her life for him and for Lan who would spend the rest of his in pain because of it.

He cried for Mat and Elayne and Aviendha and how sad he would be to leave them at Tarmon Gai’don and how much his death would hurt them. He cried for Perrin, who felt so far away, and Egwene, who was being held captive by Elaida and likely suffering abuse at her hands just as Rand had, even if she didn’t want to worry her friends by admitting it. He cried for his father whom he hadn’t seen in two years and would never see again.

Most of all he cried for his children. For the future and the life and the family he had always wanted and would never get to have.

He cried until his throat was raw and his body empty of tears, and still they held him. “I don’t still want to, Mat,” he said, voice thin and cracking, and Mat’s utter relief told Rand that he knew exactly what he was talking about. Even so, he elaborated. “I want to live. I want to survive Tarmon Gai’don. I want to—” His voice hitched on one last dry sob. “I want to see our children grow up.”

You promised! Lews Therin wailed. You promised we would die at Tarmon Gai’don!

“And I changed my mind! Wouldn’t you give anything to spend one more day with your children?” The children he’d murdered in his madness.

Lews Therin fled sobbing, and at his partners’ concerned noises Rand realized he’d spoken aloud. “S-Sorry. Lews Therin. He’s getting worse,” he mumbled, embarrassed and more than a little uneasy. He’d never spoken to Lews Therin aloud before.

But all three of them remained remarkably calm, even though Elayne and Aviendha hadn’t yet heard the full extent of the situation. “The Aelfinn said that to live you must die,” Aviendha said. “If it was completely impossible for you to survive Tarmon Gai’don, surely they would have simply said so.”

“The Aelfinn don’t say anything ‘simply.’ They love giving out riddles,” Rand said. “Maybe they only phrased it like that to toy with me, trick me into thinking there’s hope where there isn’t.”

“Of course there’s hope, Rand,” Elayne said firmly. “There’s always hope. The three of us won’t lose it. And we won’t let you lose it either.”

Mat kissed Rand’s temple. There was still sadness in his bond, but relief stronger than ever now. Relief that Rand didn’t want to die after all, or maybe relief that Elayne and Aviendha were here to help Mat take care of Rand.

Light, Rand was such a burden to them.

His hand trembled a little as he rested it on Elayne’s stomach. She didn’t look any different yet. It was so hard to believe that—that there were two babies growing in there. That she and Aviendha and Mat were going to be parents.

“I’m sorry,” Rand said. “I’ve made this all about myself. I should be asking how you all feel about—about the babies.”

“It gladdens our hearts when you trust us with your feelings, Rand,” Aviendha said. “We do not ever want you to apologize for that.”

Elayne covered Rand’s hand with hers. “Yes, you never have to hold back with us, or feel like you’re being selfish. As for how I feel about the babies, I’m scared too, about the timing of it, about what sort of world they might be born into. But overall, I’m happy. I’ve always wanted to be a mother,” she said, and indeed, her bond was bubbling with pride and joy. “I think Aviendha feels similarly.” Aviendha nodded, a rare softness in her eyes and equal pride and joy in her bond. “But the two of us have already had weeks to process the news. Today is for you and Mat to do so.”

Rand reached for Mat with his other hand—and then realized. But Mat just gave him a warm smile and wrapped his fingers around the stump, holding it as if it were a hand. Mat’s other hand hovered over Elayne’s stomach, hesitating a moment before settling on it next to hers and Rand’s.

That initial rush of emotions was coming back into his bond. Joy and fear, love and doubt. Mat was quiet for a moment, just stroking his thumb back and forth across Elayne’s stomach, and no one pressed him to say anything.

Finally he spoke. “I used to be afraid of the idea of having kids because I thought it would tie me down. I don’t feel that way anymore. I love all of you, and I love the—the family and the home that we’ve built together. I feel more free in this life with you than I ever did before,” he said. “But—but I am still scared. I’ve never—I mean—Elayne and Rand always planned on having kids, but I never thought I would, and—and what if I’m shit at it? What if I’m a shit father to them? Light knows I don’t know what a good parent is supposed to be like.”

Rand and Aviendha frowned in unison, and Elayne looked startled. “How can you say that?” she said. “You have far more parenting experience than any of us, with your sisters and Olver—”

“I’ve lost so many memories of my sisters,” Mat said, pain in the bond, “and I don’t know what I’m doing with Olver, I’ve just been treating him like my friend who happens to be nine—”

“You love him, and you do your best to care for him,” Aviendha said, her hand moving to join theirs on Elayne’s stomach. “Those are the two most important things required of a parent. I never thought I would be one either, and it frightens me as well. I fear that—that it will not come naturally to me the way I think it will to Elayne and to Rand. But we will all help each other and learn from each other. Amys told me once that while a relationship between more than two can make disagreements more complicated, it also provides all partners with more support. And all children, too.”

Light, wasn’t that true? When Mat had told Rand about Tylin, it had blown up into an argument precisely because there had been three of them talking about it instead of just two; Rand had been so devastated and furious over what Tylin had done, and over the fact that he hadn’t been there to stop it, that he’d blamed Elayne and taken his feelings out on her, and she’d rightfully snapped back at him, and they’d ended up hurting each other and Mat with harsh words. But then the resolution of that argument had happened so swiftly precisely because Aviendha had been there to mediate and to knock sense into them. (Well, into Rand, who’d started the argument and been to blame for the whole thing.) More complications, yet more support too.

And on a selfish level, Rand thought that having three partners helped him feel less broken than he might have otherwise. Because Mat and Elayne and Aviendha were all different, and they could each support and comfort and understand him in different ways. Mat could connect Rand to his old life and the boy he used to be when he grew too distant from it. Elayne could understand the burdens of leadership and advise him on how to bear them. Aviendha could provide practicality and concrete solutions when empty promises of of course you won’t die at Tarmon Gai’don and of course you won’t ever go mad and hurt us just weren’t enough.

It was probably easier for his partners too, not having to support Rand all on their own. Rand knew that he required far more support than the typical person, knew that he was difficult to love and care for. He thought of Mat saying that he needed Elayne and Aviendha too, of how relieved Mat had felt the moment they’d stepped through the gateway to Caemlyn. Yes, it being the four of them was good for all of them, for so many different reasons.

Although parenthood wasn’t one Rand would’ve anticipated. “You’ll be a wonderful, caring father, Mat,” he said. “Because you’re already a wonderful, caring partner, a wonderful, caring friend, a wonderful, caring brother. Our children will be so lucky to have you.” He looked from Mat to Elayne to Aviendha. “To have all three of you.”

Mat smiled, a little tearfully, gratitude swelling in the bond and doubt lessening, though not disappearing altogether. Ah, so it had been self-doubt.

Elayne and Aviendha smiled too. “And they’ll also be lucky to have you, Rand,” Elayne said, going up on her toes to give him a peck on the lips. “Now. I think I’d like to have a nice relaxing bath, and I’d like you all to join me.”

“Are you saying we smell?” Mat joked.

“I probably do,” Rand said. “I…I don’t remember when I last had a bath.”

“Or a good night’s sleep, or a solid meal,” Mat added, and Aviendha frowned at Rand, unhappiness plain in her bond.

Elayne’s too. “You need to take care of yourself, Rand,” she said, but her tone wasn’t lecturing—it was gentle, and so sad, and that hurt worse than if she’d been cross with him. “We’re having a bath, and then I’ll send for some dinner, and then we’ll go to sleep.”

“As you command, my Queen,” Rand teased, which made her grin.

Essande and two other maids brought water for the bath and didn’t comment on the fact that Elayne clearly intended to share her bath with three other people (Rand had restored his Illusion so the other two maids wouldn’t recognize him, although Essande already knew his true identity). But Essande certainly did comment when Elayne sent her out again and said that she would be bathing unassisted.

“I’ll have to make this up to her later,” Elayne said with a sigh once Essande had finally left, looking deeply wounded. Elayne had explained more than once what a delicate balance was required in the relationship between a lady and her maid; Rand was glad he didn’t have any personal servants. He almost laughed at the thought, half wistful and half bitter. There had once been a time when he would’ve been shocked to imagine himself having any servants, or interacting with anybody who did.

They all undressed and climbed into the bathtub. Elayne had gained some weight, Rand thought, but it was spread throughout her body, not concentrated in her stomach. Aviendha looked the same as always—no new scars, he noted in relief, so she hadn’t had to meet any serious toh since he’d last seen her.

Aviendha settled behind Rand and began washing his hair, and Mat and Elayne grabbed cloths to wash his arms and chest respectively. “I can wash myself,” Rand said, embarrassed. “I’m not completely helpless.”

“Never said you were,” Mat said. “We like taking care of you, that’s all.”

Rand liked it too, but he also felt like he shouldn’t—shouldn’t let himself enjoy it, shouldn’t let them do it, because he didn’t—he didn’t—

Elayne pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re tense,” she said. “You don’t like this?”

“No, I—I do, it’s just…”

“Just what?” Elayne prodded. “Why don’t you like being taken care of, Rand?”

Their cloths and Aviendha’s fingers kept scrubbing as calmly as ever. Rand took a few deep breaths and forced the words out. “Because…because I don’t deserve it.”

He drew his knees up into his chest and wrapped his arms around them, avoiding their eyes. Their bonds were sad, but still relatively calm. “Why do you feel that you don’t deserve it?” Elayne asked.

How could she ask that? She knew—she knew all the things he’d done. She knew what a monster he was.

“So many people have died because of me,” he said after a moment. “All I ever do is use people. It’s—it’s disgusting. I’m worse than any Seanchan, and maybe not much better than a Forsaken.”

Mat and Aviendha started to protest, but cut off. Rand darted a glance up and saw Elayne giving them an I’ll handle this look. Then her eyes moved to Rand, and he quickly lowered his own again. “Disgusting?” she repeated, still in that calm voice. “Is that how you feel? Disgusted with yourself?”

Rand buried his face in his knees, overwhelmed. There wasn’t any judgment coming from any of them but—but why was Elayne doing this to him? She knew the answers to all these questions. She knew how he felt; she could feel it for herself. Why was she making him say it aloud?

“Yes,” he said into his knees.

Elayne pet at his upper arm. “Even with us?” she said. “Do you feel disgusted with yourself when you’re alone with us?”

“Sometimes.”

“Such as when?”

“Such as—now,” Rand said. “When I’m—when I’m selfish, and let you put all your energy into taking care of me and not yourselves or each other—it’s not fair to you, I need so much all the time and you always give it to me and I give you nothing in return, I give you nothing, you deserve better than me and I don’t deserve any one of you, I don’t, I don’t—”

His voice broke and he started to cry again, even though he’d thought he didn’t have any tears left. “See? Look at me. I’m a mess,” he wept. “And I’m making everything all about myself again, like I always do. I’m broken and it’s not fair that you have to fix me. I hate being a burden to you.”

Their sorrow was stronger now, but they sat there quietly with him, Aviendha carding her fingers through his hair and Mat clasping his hand atop his knees and Elayne stroking his arm. Rand cried for only a minute or so this time, as if his body was too tired to cry any longer.

He was so tired.

Then Elayne’s hand was under his chin, a gentle yet firm touch guiding his head upwards so that he had to look at her. “I’m going to tell you a few things, and I want you to listen,” she said, and Rand nodded, desperately drinking in the tenderness on her face, one part of him aching to accept it even as another insisted he didn’t deserve it. “First, you are not selfish. You’ve given up so much of your life and yourself to do your duty to the world, and been more selfless in doing so than near anyone else would be in your position. It isn’t selfish to enjoy the occasional moment of happiness and relaxation with your loved ones.”

“You are dying of thirst, and think yourself selfish for requesting a single drop of water to drink,” Aviendha said behind him.

Elayne nodded in agreement. “If you don’t take moments for yourself, you’ll push yourself so hard that you’ll break, and that would be worse for the world than if you let yourself enjoy a bath with your partners.”

She said it so kindly, not a hint of mocking or even teasing, but even so hearing it put into context like that made Rand feel silly. But maybe that was a good thing. After all, he had to carry the mountain of duty, not let himself be crushed by it. And he knew Elayne had always struggled with toeing that line too; she spoke from experience, which made her words easier to accept and believe.

“Second,” Elayne said, “you are not a burden to us. We don’t take care of you out of obligation, but out of love. And we love you because we choose to. Third, it isn’t true that you’ve given us nothing, or that you only accept care and never offer any in return. You take care of me when I’m overwhelmed by my responsibilities and missing my mother.”

“And me when I panic about Ebou Dar,” Mat said.

“And me when I am homesick. Or when I am afraid of boats,” Aviendha added with a hint of laughter in her voice.

“All leaders use people and are responsible for deaths. Me included. Hundreds died to put me on the throne,” Elayne said, the sorrow in her bond deepening. “Are you disgusted with me for that?”

“Of course not,” Rand said, shocked that she could ask such a thing.

“Then why are you disgusted with yourself? Why do you hold yourself to a harsher standard than you hold me? Why don’t you treat yourself with the same kindness that you treat us?”

Rand let out a loud puff of air, the words hitting him hard, like a physical blow. “I…because…” He trailed off, at a loss for how to respond.

“You don’t have to answer those questions,” Elayne hastened to assure him, and he relaxed a little in relief. “I just want you to think about them.”

Rand gave a hesitant nod. “I-I will.”

“Good.” Elayne kissed his forehead. “You are trying to do good things, Rand. You’re trying to save the world, to give the Light its best chance at the Last Battle,” she said. “Sometimes you have to make hard decisions. Sometimes you have to hurt people. But you never enjoy it. That’s the difference between you and the Seanchan, between you and the Shadow. You’re always so conscious of the cost of all your decisions, and you try to save and protect as many people as you possibly can. Because you’re a good person.” She cupped Rand’s face in both hands. “You are good. And you deserve good things. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be cared for. You deserve to be loved.”

Rand really didn’t have any tears left now, or else he would surely have cried again. Instead he just took loud, ragged breaths, overwhelmed by love in three bonds, love in Elayne’s warm eyes, love in Mat’s tender kisses to his shoulder, love in Aviendha’s gentle hands in his hair.

And…and he started to believe them.

“Okay,” he whispered. He didn’t think he’d be capable of getting out another word right now, but thankfully that seemed to be enough for them.

Elayne and Mat kissed both his cheeks and Aviendha the top of his head, and they went back to washing him. And this time Rand let them do it without protest, and let himself relax into the feeling without guilt. Without much guilt, anyway. He didn’t know if he could ever manage not to feel any.

Maybe for his partners’ sakes, he could. He thought about what Mat had said earlier today. For their sakes until he could do it for his own.

He helped wash all three of them once they were done with him. To thank them and repay them, but also because he enjoyed it. He loved seeing his partners relax, feeling them content in the bond, and knowing that it was because of him. Was that…was that how it felt for them, when they took care of him? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let them, if it brought them this same pleasure.

After the very long bath was finally over—Elayne had had to keep channeling to reheat the water—they dressed for bed and sent for some food. None had spoiled yet when it arrived, and Rand ate ravenously. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Elayne pouted over the bland food she’d been given in accordance with Monaelle’s strict pregnancy dietary rules, but perked up when Mat and Aviendha gave her half their honeycakes (Rand tried to too, but she pushed them back at him). Rand wouldn’t be surprised if her pouting had been calculated precisely for that result. She knew the power she had over all of them.

Then they all got in bed together. Not for the first time, Rand thought idly how fortunate it was that all their time together had been spent in palaces with such large beds. Would’ve been tricky carrying out a relationship like this back in Emond’s Field. Although, Tam was skilled in woodworking; he could’ve built a bigger bed for Rand’s room.

For a moment Rand let himself entertain that peaceful fantasy, the four of them raising their children in his old house in Emond’s Field. But only for a moment. That house had been burned by Whitecloaks, Perrin had said, and the Mat of the present felt as out of place in Emond’s Field as Elayne and Aviendha did. Rand would never want them to live somewhere they wouldn’t be happy.

Elayne belonged in Caemlyn. Mat thrived here too; he loved big cities. Aviendha, Rand thought could be happy just about anywhere the rest of them were. She’d once told him that, though she did miss the Waste sometimes, Aiel saw home as the people they loved, not as any land or roof. Rand felt that way too now, he realized. He would live anywhere in the world as long as his partners were with him.

But he wished he could take them to Emond’s Field just for a visit. Introduce Elayne and Aviendha to his dad. What would Tam think of it, Rand loving three people? Would he accept it? Would he understand? Or would he disapprove? Such things were completely unheard of in the Two Rivers. Even two men or two women loving each other wasn’t so common there, though nobody had a problem with it when it did happen.

Tam had known that Rand liked both boys and girls and hadn’t seemed to mind. Or at least, he’d known that Rand had had a crush on Mat as a child and on Egwene as a teenager. The crush on Mat had still existed then, coexisted with the one on Egwene, but Rand hadn’t told Tam that because he hadn’t thought he would understand. Rand himself hadn’t understood at the time, had figured he was only confused and indecisive.

Would Tam laugh and tease Rand for finally winning Mat’s love after all those years of giving him flowers that Mat had never seemed to notice any meaning in? Would he be awed by Elayne being the Queen of Andor, or would he treat her just the same as any other person who came under his roof? Would he be wary of Aviendha because he’d fought in the Aiel War, or would he get on with her like Perrin said he had with Gaul and Bain and Chiad? How would he react to the news that he was going to be a grandfather?

Rand would never know the answers to any of those questions. His partners would likely try to find Tam after Tarmon Gai’don, to tell him that Rand had loved him and had said goodbye to him, but Rand wouldn’t get to be there to see it.

Aviendha’s hand on his chest and Elayne’s lips on his cheek brought him back to the present. “Rand?” Mat said softly. They must have felt his fresh melancholy in the bonds.

“I was thinking about my dad,” Rand said. “Will you make sure that he—that he gets to meet our babies?”

“Of course,” Aviendha said.

“You’ll put them into his arms yourself,” Elayne said. Rand didn’t know if her repeated insistences that he would survive were helping him or only making him hurt worse. He didn’t want to ask her to stop, though. It—it was good that she, at least, had hope. Rand wasn’t going to take that from her.

But under that bright ember of hope in her bond was a wave of sadness. Sadness because she knew Rand wouldn’t live long enough to introduce their children to his dad? Or maybe sadness because Elayne would never be able to introduce them to her mother. How odd it was, that their children would have four parents yet only one grandparent. Aviendha’s parents had been killed in inter-clan raids when she was small, and Rand doubted that Mat would want his own to be part of the twins’ lives even on the off-chance that they would want to be.

Sighing, Rand closed his eyes and snuggled under the blankets. Aviendha and Elayne were lying on either side of him, holding him, and Mat’s arm was draped across Elayne so his hand could rest on Rand’s hip. “Mat,” Rand said, “will you talk to me about home?”

Mat obliged, and amid the warmth of Elayne’s and Aviendha’s bodies and of Mat’s voice and of memories of Emond’s Field, Rand drifted off into the best sleep he’d had in weeks.

They were quiet for a while even after they’d all sensed Rand had fallen asleep. Mat finally broke the silence. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” Elayne asked.

“For helping him,” Mat said. “I had no idea what to do. This afternoon he told me…” He let out a shaky breath. “He told me he wanted to die. And—and I had no idea what to do.”

Elayne and Aviendha both sat up straight, concern and fear sharp on their faces and in Elayne’s bond. “What?” Elayne said, her voice shaking even on just the one word.

Mat sat up too and told them about his and Rand’s conversation in the Stone, about everything Mat had seen and felt in the bond during the encounter with Semirhage and the Trolloc attack and plenty of other smaller moments from the past few weeks. Mat had told Rand, quite firmly, that they were going to be telling their other partners all of this, and Rand had agreed. But Mat suspected Rand might be grateful that they’d had the conversation without him while he was asleep, so that he wouldn’t have to see or feel Elayne’s and Aviendha’s initial reactions, all their horror and pain and grief.

Even if Rand hadn’t agreed, Mat would’ve told them anyway. I promised because I meant it. I promised because I wanted to die too. That wasn’t something Mat could fix on his own. That wasn’t something he could cope with on his own.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as scared in my entire life as I was when he said that,” he finished, so quietly. “I was so bloody relieved when he agreed to come home to you two, because I can’t—I’m not enough on my own. I’m not enough to help him.”

“None of us are, and none of us need be,” Aviendha said. “That is why he has all of us, and why we have each other as well.”

Elayne nodded and wrapped her arms around Mat in a hug. “You did so well taking care of him these past weeks,” she said. “Thank you, Mat.”

Mat buried his face in her shoulder. He hadn’t—hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed to hear that. That he’d done well. Light, it was hard. Rand meant the entire world to Mat and Mat would never get tired of taking care of him, of loving him, but it was hard sometimes.

“That was what he meant before, when he said that he ‘didn’t want to anymore’,” Mat said. “He meant that he didn’t want to die anymore. Thank the Light. But that doesn’t mean it won’t ever creep up again, the next time Lews Therin does something to scare him or the next time something happens that makes him feel he’s a danger to his loved ones.”

“And if it does creep up again, we’ll be there to help him fight it,” Elayne said, and Mat nodded into her shoulder, relaxing a little.

She kissed him and let go of him, and all three of them looked down at Rand, still sleeping peacefully. Mat reached out to graze his knuckle across Rand’s cheek, lightly so as not to wake him. “He does already feel so much better in the bond, compared to how it’s felt the past few days,” he said. “Just being with you again has helped him, I think. And learning about the babies. And all that stuff you told him in the bath.” He looked at Elayne. “How did you do that?”

She shrugged. “It was something Lini used to do when I had nightmares or was upset about something,” she said. “She would relentlessly ask me questions until we’d arrived at the heart of the issue, and then she would calmly explain to me how each fear or point of pain was either untrue or fixable. It always helped me feel better.”

“Lini saves the day yet again,” Mat said with a grin, and Elayne and Aviendha chuckled.

Then Aviendha reached across Rand and Elayne to touch Mat’s cheek. “You need rest too, brother,” she said. “Your spirit is so weary.”

Even without a Warder bond, she could read him like an open book. Mat settled back down under the blankets, and Elayne and Aviendha did too. He draped his arm over Elayne, hand brushing against her stomach.

He spread his fingers out so that his hand was resting flat, hesitated, then asked, “Do you know when the babies were, uh, conceived?”

“Monaelle believes it was during the last week before you left for Far Madding,” Elayne said.

“So it could be either of us,” Mat said. “The—the blood father, I mean.” For a while Mat hadn’t been having sex with his partners at all, still recovering from what had happened with Tylin, and once he’d started joining them it had at first been as more of an observer than a participant. But that last week in Caemlyn…about equal odds for either him or Rand, if that was the week when it had happened.

“Yes,” Elayne said. “Would it…change anything for you, either way?”

Mat hoped it would be Rand. Hoped their children would look like him. So that his eyes would still live on, after—so that there would still be a piece of him left, even when—

“No, it wouldn’t,” Mat said. “You?”

Elayne smiled. “Not in the slightest.”

The three of them soon settled into sleepy silence. Mat kept rubbing his hand over Elayne’s stomach (which made her bond glow with happiness and contentment). Blood and ashes, they were having a bloody baby. Two bloody babies. Mat still hadn’t managed to wrap his head around it. Around the fact that he was going to be a father. It wasn’t a role he’d ever expected to have.

He smiled. Brother to an Aiel. Partner to an Aes Sedai queen and to his woolheaded best friend. Warder to two channelers, guardian of an orphaned boy, leader of an army, Captain-General of Andor. Some of the favorite roles he’d ever filled were the ones he’d never expected to have.

With that thought in his mind, he fell asleep too. His spirit was so flaming weary.

Chapter Text

Rand and Aviendha were already awake when Elayne woke the next morning, both lying on their sides facing her and Mat. Aviendha was cuddling Rand from behind, and Elayne scooched closer to nestle into his chest. “Did you both sleep well?” she asked, though she could feel in the bonds that they were well-rested, and indeed, they both hummed in confirmation.

Rand also felt…drained, was the only word she could think of. Not in a bad way, though. He had gotten a lot off his chest last night, and emotional intimacy could be as tiring as physical exertion.

Elayne felt rather drained too, and almost more worried about Rand than she had been while he’d been gone. She reached up to cup his cheek, and he smiled and nuzzled into the touch. He did feel better in the bond this morning, and he looked better too, less tired, his eyes warmer, his smile fuller.

They’d helped him hold on for now. But if another breaking point came? What then? Elayne thought of how fragile he’d been last night, how broken by self-loathing. They’d only patched up the cracks temporarily. One more push, and she was afraid he might shatter into too many pieces to put back together again.

And there was also what Mat had described—that Lews Therin’s voice was getting worse, so bad that in the fight with the Trollocs he’d tried to make Rand kill himself, and kill Mat when Mat had attempted to stop him. Elayne wouldn’t believe a word Semirhage said, of course, and Rand didn’t seem mad, didn’t feel mad, but whether Lews Therin was madness or not, he was clearly doing Rand grave harm. They had to figure out how to get rid of him.

But what weapons could you possibly use to fight a voice in someone’s head?

“Rand, after you fell asleep last night, Mat told Aviendha and me about what you talked about in the Stone,” Elayne ventured.

Rand lowered his eyes as a rush of embarrassment and shame flooded his bond. Aviendha made a soothing noise and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Nothing from that conversation shames you, husband of my heart,” she said. “On the contrary, you showed courage in being able to speak such great pain aloud. And you honor us by trusting us with it.”

Rand relaxed a little. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t feel up to it. I’m sure it was hard enough to talk about once with Mat,” Elayne said, and Rand relaxed even more. “We just wanted to make sure you know that you can talk to us when you need to, about this or anything else, and that we’ll always be here for you and always, always love you.” Gently, Elayne guided Rand’s head up slightly, and he obligingly raised his eyes to meet hers. “And that you’re important to us, and—and we don’t want to live in a world without you.”

Her voice trembled, and the guilt in Rand’s bond made her realize perhaps that hadn’t been the right thing to say. “Unless we must,” Aviendha hastened to add. “If the Wheel insists on taking you from us at Tarmon Gai’don, we will bear it. But we do not wish to face that loss if it can be avoided. We do not want you to wake from the dream before your time, Rand.”

Rand gave a slow nod. Elayne expected him to apologize or belittle himself or fret about worrying them, and was relieved when all he said was, “I love you.”

Aviendha kissed his cheek again as Elayne leaned in to kiss his nose. “We love you too.”

Mat woke up soon afterwards and kissed Elayne and Rand good morning. Then he and Rand exchanged an uneasy glance, and Rand said, “We have to tell you both something. About…about why we met with Semirhage in the first place.”

Fresh guilt and self-loathing flooded his bond, and Mat’s too. Elayne furrowed her brow. Even in Mat’s fuller account of the encounter with Semirhage after Rand had fallen asleep, it had been obvious he was concealing something; he never had given a straight answer of why they’d been at that manor in Ebou Dar.

“What is it?” Elayne asked.

“Semirhage was disguised as the heir to the Seanchan throne, the Daughter of the Nine Moons. And we were supposed to meet with the Daughter of the Nine Moons because we wanted—no. Because I wanted, and still do,” Rand said, self-loathing increasing. “Mat’s hated the idea from the start, but I wouldn’t listen to him.”

“It’s the only option left to us. To us, Rand,” Mat said. “I agreed to it too.”

“What idea?” Elayne said slowly, but she thought she suspected what the idea was.

Sure enough, Rand rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling, avoiding their eyes, and said, “To make a truce with the Seanchan until Tarmon Gai’don is over. To—to work with them. Let them stay in the Westlands for the time being. Let them use their damane to fight the Last Battle.”

Elayne felt sick. All she could think of was Egwene with the collar around her neck, Egwene waking up screaming or weeping from nightmares throughout all the months between Falme and their separation in Tear. The captured damane Rand had sent to Elayne from his wars in the south because he hadn’t been able to bear killing people who’d been enslaved and forced to fight by others. Even freed from their collars, even with no sul’dam around—Rand hadn’t hesitated to kill them—the women had been so frightened, so deeply conditioned into subservience that it had made Elayne want to sick up. Some of them still were, three months into Elayne’s and Aviendha’s, and Nynaeve’s before she’d left, efforts to get them accustomed to freedom.

She thought of Jillari, who had spent weeks thinking of what new surname she wanted to take because the name her parents had given her had been stricken from all records when she’d been made damane. Jillari was the name she’d been given with the collar, but she hadn’t wanted to give it up, no matter how much Nynaeve had tried to coax her into choosing one for herself—Nynaeve had spent a great deal of time with Jillari. One day Nynaeve had reported to Elayne, shaking with sobs, that Jillari had given her the shyest little smile and asked if Nynaeve might permit her to call herself Jillari al’Meara, for the woman who had taught her how to be free.

Jillari al’Meara had learned how to be free, but thousands upon thousands of other women were still collared, had been collared so long that they no longer wanted to be free or remembered what it felt like. And they were going to be used in the Last Battle, sent to face the Shadow like sheep for slaughter. Killed in a war they had no choice in, before they ever had the chance to remember what freedom felt like.

All because the Westlands had been too slow. Hadn’t done enough to free them when there had been time for it, and now there wasn’t.

Only when Mat laid a hand on her arm did Elayne realize she was shaking. “You’re angry,” Rand said quietly.

“I am. I’m furious,” Elayne said. Her voice was shaking too. “But not with you. With the Seanchan, for forcing it to come to this, forcing us to give way to them. Because you’re right, this is the only option left. We can’t fight a war on two fronts. The Shadow must take priority.” Her jaw firmed. “But once that war is over, there will be war with the Seanchan, if I have to bloody declare it myself.”

“Oh, I think I’ll beat you to it,” Mat said grimly.

“‘A hare can ally with a snake to prevent the eagle from scooping them both up in its talons, so long as the hare never forgets that the snake will try to eat it as soon as the eagle is gone,’” Elayne said. “I heard Lini tell my mother that once.”

“After the eagle is gone, the Seanchan will find that we are the snake,” Aviendha said with a determined nod. “Whether it happens in our lifetime or our children’s or our children’s children’s children’s, someday their empire will be dust and every last one of their damane and da’covale free.”

A note of something bright came into Rand’s bond, something like…something like hope. A small note, but once it was there, it didn’t flicker or wink out again. “Yes. We’ll be the snake.” He hesitated. “So…you’re not angry with me?”

Elayne shook her head. “You made the best choice you could in a situation where all options were bad,” she said. “That’s all any good leader can do.”

“A chief will always have toh to somebody because he cannot afford to put his personal honor above the wellbeing of the entire clan,” Aviendha added. “And if we are able to come to the negotiations from a position of strength, perhaps we can wring out some concessions from the Seanchan and set favorable terms that will make it easier to chase them out of our lands and free those collared once the Last Battle has been won.”

Rand felt relieved in the bond, and also impressed. “You’re learning a lot from the Wise Ones, I see,” he told Aviendha.

“That, I learned from Elayne,” Aviendha replied, and Elayne blushed and smiled at her.

“Speaking of Elayne and negotiations…” Mat said. “What did you mean about hundreds dying to put you on the throne? Last we heard, the casualties in the siege were fairly light.”

Elayne hesitated and looked at Aviendha, who nodded. Elayne sighed. She didn’t want to worry Rand and Mat with the tale of their kidnapping; it was over and done with now and they were both fine, so there was no point fussing. But Rand and Mat had been so honest with the two of them about everything they’d been through lately, and it was only fair that Elayne and Aviendha do the same.

“Well, it all began when Aviendha and I…had a run-in with the Black Ajah,” she said.

Rand’s eyes widened and Mat’s narrowed. “Define ‘run-in’,” Mat said.

“We were kidnapped,” Elayne admitted reluctantly.

Rand and Mat both sat bolt upright and started fussing. Elayne and Aviendha hastened to sit up too and attempt to soothe them. “We were not harmed,” Aviendha said. “They stunned us briefly with a ter’angreal, but after that they merely tied us up and carted us off in a wagon.”

Elayne nodded her confirmation. “They had us tied up in that wagon for a few hours, that was all,” she said. “They didn’t hurt us, and the babies are both fine too, Monaelle was able to check on them afterwards with a certain weave Wise Ones know. Birgitte, Gawyn, and Talmanes led the Band and the Guardswomen to rescue us.”

“We should’ve been there too,” Rand fretted, guilt in the bond again. “We should’ve felt in the bonds that you were in danger, we should’ve Traveled to—”

“It was the same day as your encounter with Semirhage,” Aviendha interrupted. “We felt the loss of your hand while we were in the wagon. It is no small wonder that you and Mat were both in too much distress yourselves to notice any sign of distress in our bonds.”

Rand didn’t seem soothed, twisting his hand in the sheets. “You’re constantly worrying over and protecting me. But when you need me, I’m never there.”

“That’s not true.” Elayne cupped his face and leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead to calm him down. “You came running from Cairhien to save me from those assassins, didn’t you? I needed you then far more than I did the other day,” she said. “Birgitte and the others handled everything just fine. We didn’t need either of you. It’s all right that you weren’t there. I promise, it’s all right. We weren’t hurt, and we got out of it safely.”

Aviendha hummed in agreement, stroking Rand’s hair and nuzzling his cheek with her nose. His bond did start to feel calmer, though still guilty.

Mat felt guilty too, but not as much as Rand did. Even so, Elayne kept one hand on Rand and wrapped the other arm around Mat’s waist. “I’m glad that you stayed with Rand, my heart,” she told him. “He needed you that day. Aviendha and I didn’t.”

Mat hesitated, then nodded. Elayne and Aviendha proceeded to tell them the whole story. “You must have been hurt inside, at least,” Rand said. “You must have been—must have been scared.” Elayne suspected he was thinking of his time in that box.

“I’ll admit, last night I was quite glad that you prefer to sleep with all the curtains open,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, but Rand’s bond ached with sympathy.

“As was I,” Aviendha said. “I was afraid that day. I…I do not like being unable to see the sun and feel the wind for so long, or to have the Power and my limbs taken away from me, tied up so I cannot use them.” She shivered a little, and Mat rubbed her back soothingly. “But mostly I was afraid for Elayne, and the babies.”

“I was mostly afraid for Aviendha,” Elayne said. “Min’s viewing means that the babies and I will be safe until they’re born.”

“It means that you won’t die, not that you’ll be safe,” Mat said. Light, it was like Birgitte was speaking in his mind right now, telling him to say that.

And Rand agreed, burn him. “You could lose a limb and still give birth to healthy babies,” he said with a glance at his missing hand. “Or worse than that.”

Elayne sighed, thinking of how much she worried when her partners took risks. They were being needlessly pessimistic and overprotective…but she didn’t want to put them through that worry if she didn’t have to. “I’ll try to avoid taking risks when it’s possible for me to do so,” she said.

The corners of Mat’s mouth quirked up. “That’s an Aes Sedai promise if I’ve ever heard one,” he said, making Elayne chuckle. But nobody pressed her for a more thorough promise. They all understood that none of them could afford to avoid taking risks altogether, not in these times.

They were quiet for a while, just cuddling, thinking. Enjoying being together again. Elayne reveled in the feeling of all three of her partners’ hands on her or arms around her, of all three of their bonds so vivid and detailed and full of life in the back of her mind.

How many more mornings like this would they have before Tarmon Gai’don came?

Eventually Rand broke the silence. “Elayne, I was thinking about…about something you said last night,” he began. “You said that you all love me because you choose to. But…Min had a viewing that the three of you would love me. It was already woven into the Pattern. Everything to do with me and my life is dictated by the Wheel’s will. So maybe—maybe it wasn’t your choice.”

Elayne frowned, baffled and more than a little hurt. How could he think that? After everything they’d been through together, how could he worry that their love wasn’t real?

Aviendha’s eyes were sad and fierce simultaneously. “Do you truly think so little of yourself, that you believe we could only love you if we were forced by the Pattern?” she said, lacing her fingers through Rand’s, and the way his lower lip quivered made Elayne want to cry. “And so little of us, that you would deny us our agency? Perhaps one cannot always control one’s feelings, but we chose to act on those feelings. We chose to be with you, Rand. Min Farshaw’s viewing had no effect whatsoever on my feelings for you. By the time I learned of it, I had already grown to love you of my own volition.”

“So had I,” Mat said. “I’d loved you for bloody years before I even met Min, and before you started giving off any ta’veren influence or anything of that sort.”

“And I knew only that I would have to share my husband with two others, but Min didn’t tell me that husband was you until I saw her in Salidar, and by then I’d already given you my heart,” Elayne said. “I’d already chosen to give you my heart.”

“Exactly,” Mat said. “Love isn’t fate or destiny. Love is a choice, one made not by the Pattern or the Wheel, but by people.” He covered Rand and Aviendha’s hands with his own. “And this love is a choice that the four of us made, and keep making over and over again every single day.”

To Elayne’s relief, Rand relaxed and nodded and seemed to believe them. Elayne joined her hand with theirs, all four of them twined together, holding each other. “If our love is woven into the Pattern,” she said, “then we’re the ones who wove it there.”

After a very enjoyable hour in bed—nothing too fancy since they were all tired, but the sort of slow, gentle sex that Mat had learned could be just as fun as the other kind with the right partners—Rand was ordered to stay in their rooms and keep resting, Aviendha left for the Wise Ones’ tents, and Mat and Elayne went to meet with Birgitte, Gawyn, and Talmanes to get caught up on matters of security.

On the way out of that meeting, Mat heard a jubilant voice calling Elayne and turned to see Nynaeve hurrying down the corridor towards them with a broad smile on her face. Elayne laughed, so much joy welling up in the bond that Mat smiled too, and threw her arms around her. “Light, I missed you!” Elayne said. “How are you? And Lan? Rand and Mat said he went to the Blight—”

“He did. Damned fool,” Nynaeve said. “But he’s all right, because I would know if he wasn’t.” Mat believed that, somehow, even though Nynaeve and Lan weren’t bonded. Probably because even the Wheel would be too scared to cross Nynaeve by taking her husband from her. “What about you, and Aviendha and the others, have you all been keeping well? Word in the palace is that you’re officially Queen of Andor!”

“I am indeed,” Elayne said, pride warming the bond.

Nynaeve beamed and kissed her on the cheek. “I knew you would thump some sense into those old fools!”

“I drew on your advice for handling the Women’s Circle and Village Council on more than one occasion,” Elayne said with a laugh.

Nynaeve finally pulled back from the hug, but only to study Elayne with a critical eye. “You look tired. And pale,” she said, frowning. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. Do you feel all right? Let me do a Delving, you might be ill—”

“I’m fine, Nynaeve. It’s not an illness.” Elayne looked at Mat, and he smiled and nodded his permission. Maybe they ought to get Rand’s and Aviendha’s as well, but Elayne had said that her pregnancy was already common knowledge in the palace, and indeed throughout the city, so Nynaeve would likely hear a rumor within the hour anyway. Besides, Elayne was the one who was pregnant, so in Mat’s eyes telling people about it was her decision more than anyone else’s.

Elayne turned back to Nynaeve, another smile breaking out on her face. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “With twins.”

Nynaeve gaped at her, then blinked rapidly and pulled Elayne and a very startled Mat into a fierce hug. She sniffled loudly and hiccupped a little, squeezing them tight. Light, was she actually crying? “Blood and ashes, Nynaeve,” Mat said. “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s pregnant?”

“You hold your tongue!” Nynaeve said as Elayne laughed. “Oh, I can’t believe it! Twins! It feels like only yesterday I was watching Mat and Rand take their first steps—”

“As if you can even remember that! You’re only five years older than us!”

“I remember it,” Nynaeve insisted. “Wisdom Barran always used to say that the day Mat Cauthon learned to walk and talk was the beginning of all Emond’s Field’s troubles.”

Elayne laughed again, and Mat harrumphed. Nynaeve let go of them and wiped her eyes and promptly started fussing over Elayne, asking how she was feeling and whether she was getting enough sleep, so Mat excused himself and went to go find Olver, unable to believe his luck that Nynaeve hadn’t said a word about them not being married. But then, she’d adjusted well to four people all being in a relationship together, and that was far more scandalous than somebody being pregnant out of wedlock.

Olver was in Thom and Juilin’s room, playing cat’s cradle as Aviendha had taught him and pretending not to be listening to Thom and Juilin going over reports from their eyes-and-ears. “Mat!” Olver said, untangling the string from his fingers and scrambling to his feet. “You really are back!”

“I certainly am,” Mat said, catching him in his arms and enfolding him in a tight hug. He was quiet for a moment, holding Olver close and resting his cheek against his head and listening to him babble excitedly about everything Mat had missed while he’d been gone.

Father. That…that was a role Mat already had, wasn’t it? If caring for the twins was anything like caring for Olver, then maybe he would do all right. Although, two newborns would be a very different story than one nine-year-old.

Mat hugged Thom and Juilin too and the four of them spent half an hour catching up before Mat had to hurry on to the next item on the day’s agenda. But he got a chance to talk to them at greater length that evening during what Elayne dubbed “family dinner.”

Gathered around the table in her private dining room were her, Mat, Aviendha, Rand without his Illusion disguise, Nynaeve, Thom, Juilin, Olver, Birgitte, Gawyn, Talmanes, Min, and Dyelin (whom Elayne had let in on the truth of Rand’s identity, with her partners’ blessing). Sulin and Enaila weren’t on duty this evening and had joined them, though they were sitting on the floor next to the table, and Narishma, Flinn, and Sandomere were there too; the Asha’man had seemed both surprised and touched by the invitation.

Mat took a sip of tea, utterly content. Well, he might have liked to be drinking wine, but they weren’t sure whether the bond might mean that a Warder drinking could affect the babies. Elayne thought it ridiculous to imagine it could, but pregnant Aes Sedai were an extremely rare occurrence that had never been studied, so her Warders had all agreed it was best not to take any chances.

When Aviendha and Birgitte had explained all this to Rand and Mat, Rand had said quite seriously that giving up wine for seven months was the least he could do in return for everything Elayne was going through to bring their babies into the world. Mat had hastily agreed because he didn’t want to look bad. But Light, seven months without wine? That might kill him before Tarmon Gai’don had the chance.

Elayne looked and felt similarly content, glowing with happiness at having so many of her loved ones all in one place together. Aviendha was smiling more than usual, and in the bond Rand felt warm and at ease, more than he had since they’d first left for Far Madding. Spending time with his partners helped him too, but Mat and Elayne and Aviendha alone couldn’t provide all the love and support and connection Rand needed. It did him good to be surrounded by so many people he loved and trusted. Well, Gawyn and Dyelin didn’t exactly fall into that category for Rand, but they did for Elayne, and Talmanes did for Mat, which was likely good enough for Rand.

“Elayne, did you tell Mat and Rand about the babies?” Olver asked during a lull in the conversation.

Elayne laughed. “If I hadn’t, then you would have just given it away.”

Olver grinned sheepishly and turned to Mat, who was in the chair beside him. “Are you excited? I am. I can’t wait to meet them! What are you going to name them?”

“No idea, and yes, I’m excited,” Mat said, exchanging smiles with Elayne and Aviendha and Rand, though Rand’s smile was undercut by an ache in the bond that made Mat’s heart hurt. He cleared his throat and ruffled Olver’s hair. “Glad you are too. Not every big brother is. I wasn’t when my sisters were born, although I changed my mind soon enough…”

He trailed off as he realized that everyone was staring at him. Why were they…

“Big brother?” Olver echoed.

Oh.

Olver was looking up at Mat with very round eyes. Very shiny round eyes. And his mouth was trembling a little. “Do you really mean it, Mat?” he said. “I’m their brother?”

Mat sort of wished all these people weren’t here for this conversation. “Well, it’s—I mean—you don’t have to be, if you don’t want to,” he fumbled. “But…I know I could never replace your real parents, and I wouldn’t want to anyway because they were special to you and you loved them, but—burn me, Olver, I-I do think of you as my son.” Rand’s and Elayne’s bonds overflowed with a tenderness and affection that made Mat have to clear his throat again. “But if you don’t want me to—”

He cut off with a surprised oof as Olver flung his arms around his neck. “I do want you to,” Olver said through noises that were either laughs or sobs, Mat couldn’t tell. “You’ve always been like my dad, Mat. Is it okay if I still call you Mat? It’s just, I’m used to calling you Mat, and ‘Dad’ was my dad—my first dad, I mean—”

“You can call me whatever you like,” Mat said. Maybe he was crying too. Only a little. He didn’t know what Elayne felt she had to pat him on the back for. “I…I love you, Olver.”

Mat pressed a hesitant kiss to the top of Olver’s head, and Olver lifted his face out of Mat’s neck to beam up at him. “I love you too. And I promise I’ll be the best brother ever!” he added, making Rand smile and the rest of the table laugh.

The next few days settled into a routine. Mat was being run ragged catching up with the Band, picking up his Captain-General duties from Birgitte and Gawyn, accompanying Elayne for her own duties in Caemlyn as well as visits to Cairhien, and helping Rand strategize and plan for his next move into Arad Doman.

Being an important person was bloody exhausting. Though it was satisfying to see idiot nobles hop when Mat said the word.

No progress had been made with Semirhage. Mat hadn’t really thought any would be. You couldn’t break someone who’d dedicated their life to breaking others. She enjoyed pain too much, even if it was her own.

Cadsuane was frustrated with Rand’s plan to kill Semirhage after a week, but he wouldn’t be moved. She’s not worth wasting more than a week’s worth of time and effort on, he kept saying, and Mat agreed.

But then Rand would go on to talk about how much he still had left to do before the end—Mat hated when he talked like that, but he was helpless to do anything but give Rand empty promises that they could find a way for him to survive Tarmon Gai’don.

If anyone could find that way, though, it would be Elayne. She was so good at solving impossible problems, inventing new ways of doing things or rediscovering old ones. Currently, between her queenly duties, she and Cadsuane were studying the male a’dam they’d collected from Semirhage. Trying to find some weakness in it, some way that Rand would be able to escape in case the Shadow or the Seanchan had more of them stored somewhere, but it was impossible to test anything without putting it on Rand or an Asha’man, and Elayne and Rand refused to allow that no matter how much Cadsuane tried to persuade (bully) them.

Mat shivered at the thought of more of those collars existing. Bad enough that the one they had couldn’t be permanently destroyed, since it was made of cuendillar. Bad enough that there were thousands of female a’dam out there in the hands of Seanchan ready to snatch up Elayne and Aviendha and Nynaeve and Egwene and all women like them the moment they had a chance.

On the evening before Semirhage was to be executed, Mat and Rand returned to their rooms half-asleep after a long day and found Elayne already there, curled up in an armchair going over some papers while two maids cleared away the remains of her dinner. The recent remains, it looked like, judging by the cup of milk Elayne was still sipping on, even though she should have eaten two hours ago with the rest of them.

Elayne smiled when she saw them, and Mat went over to stand by her chair. She rested her forehead against his thigh as he carded his fingers through her hair. “You missed dinner again,” he said.

“I didn’t miss it, I only had it late,” she protested. “It’s been a busy evening—”

“Whatever blasted papers or nobles are demanding your attention can let you spare five minutes to eat, cuebiyar,” Mat said, gently scratching at her scalp and making her hum contentedly. “You’re wearing yourself out.”

Before Elayne could respond, several things happened at once. Mat’s medallion went ice cold, Elayne leapt out of her chair with a gasp that was abruptly cut off as she froze in place, and a soft click of metal echoed through the room.

Panic lit up Rand’s bond, and Mat whipped his head around to see—

Oh, Light.

Rand was clawing frantically, and futilely, at a metal band around his neck. The male a’dam. And the maids were no longer maids: Semirhage was standing behind Rand, looking triumphant, and beside her was Elza, one of the Aes Sedai sworn to Rand. Black Ajah, then.

Mat sent knives whizzing towards both of them, but Semirhage deflected them easily with the Power. The medallion went cold again, and a look of frustration crossed Semirhage’s face. She didn’t understand why her channeling wasn’t working on Mat—he had a momentary advantage until she figured it out. He pulled out another knife, but before he could throw it, Rand was suddenly straightening up, putting himself between Mat and Semirhage.

Rand’s face and bond both were overwrought with terror and fury and agony. “You can’t do this, burn you!” he snarled, looking at Mat but undoubtedly talking to Semirhage. “I am the Dragon Reborn, you can’t—”

“Oh, but I have,” Semirhage practically purred, smugness rolling off her. “Dragon Reborn. You are a child playing pretend, a mere flea beside the power of the Great Lord.”

“Rand, move out of the way,” Mat said, desperately trying to get a clear shot, but Rand kept moving to block him.

“I can’t,” Rand said, voice broken. “Just throw it, Mat, get me out of the way—”

“I’m not going to bloody stab you!”

“You have to, Mat, please! Don’t let her do this to me, please, just—just kill me!” Tears were streaming down Rand’s cheeks.

Elayne’s bond was full of fear too, and rage, but she was still silent and frozen. Semirhage must have shielded her and bound her up with the Power, and gagged her mouth with Air or something. Mat shouted for the Maidens outside the door, but Semirhage merely laughed. “No guards will come, fool boy. I’ve warded the room against listeners,” she said, then turned her attention to Rand. “And so you finally come to your destiny, Rand al’Thor. You will face the Great Lord. And you will lose.”

Light, could Mat bring himself to hurt Rand? Just the thought made him feel sick, but Semirhage was controlling Rand and Elayne was bound and Mat was the only one who could still do something—

Before he could decide, Rand moved right in front of him and yanked the medallion off, quick as a flash. Instantly, Mat felt himself tied up tight by invisible ropes. “I’m sorry,” Rand wept. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

Aviendha, Mat realized, desperate hope welling up inside him. She was among the Wise Ones’ tents, she would feel through her bonds that Rand and Elayne were scared and in danger and she would come to help. She was probably already running towards them. She was.

Please, he thought, eyes blurring with tears. Sister, please. We need you.

Aviendha dropped the half-sorted bag of seeds with a start, undoing an hour’s work, but she could not have cared less. Rand and Elayne were in danger. Both their bonds had suddenly flared up like the fireworks Mat had set off to break into the Stone of Tear, fraught with the most terror she had ever felt from either of them.

She sprang to her feet, and Amys looked at her. “Have you been given leave to abandon your task?” she asked coolly. She had arrived in Caemlyn an hour ago along with Bair and Melaine to take over Aviendha’s training from Monaelle, but to Aviendha’s shame, Amys had set her a useless task to punish her for some unknown toh.

Now, toh could not have been further from Aviendha’s mind. Her response was one of which her brother would have been proud. “Burn your bloody seeds!” she snapped, and she raced out of the tent before Amys could stop her.

Rand and Elayne were in the palace, and very near to each other, it felt like. Aviendha followed the bonds as if they were strings connecting her to them. What about Mat? Was he with them? Was he in danger too? Their first-sibling bond told her that he was in her general vicinity, but not specifically where.

Underneath the fear, Elayne was furious and Rand despairing. Had Mat been harmed? Or—no, Aviendha would know if he had been killed, just as surely as she would know if Elayne or Rand had been. They were all still alive. But they needed her.

I am coming, she thought, trying to project reassurance across the bonds. I will protect you.

Agony. Agony set every last nerve ending on fire, but Rand gritted his teeth and kept silent, didn’t even let pain show on his face. After the box and all those beatings, Aviendha had taught him more about how Aiel bore pain. It wasn’t that they made themselves too hard to feel it, as Rand had once believed—it was that they understood how meaningless it was, and so were able to dismiss it.

He thought of his father, whom he would never see again. His children, who would never know him. His partners, who would feel the pain of losing him for the rest of their days. Himself, and all the happiness he would miss out on. What was physical pain in the face of that agony of heart?

Semirhage looked confused, no doubt at his lack of reaction to the torture. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Speak.”

Rand couldn’t have ignored the command even if he’d wanted to. “Pain of the flesh is meaningless,” he said, meeting her eyes without flinching. “You can do nothing to harm me in a way that matters.”

Semirhage smiled. “Is that so?”

Rand found himself seizing saidin, Semirhage controlling him like a puppet on a string. When he’d tried seizing it before he’d been blocked by some invisible force, but now that she’d allowed him to, maybe he could turn it on her and—

He began forming weaves of Spirit and Fire, and directed them at Elayne.

“No!” he yelled. Time seemed to slow as he watched his own weaves flow towards Elayne. “Stop it, don’t—”

Elayne was still frozen, but pain exploded across her bond and her expression twisted in agony. A moment later she started screaming; Semirhage must have released the gag. In order to hurt Rand as much as possible, by making him hear how much he was hurting Elayne.

Mat was crying too. “Stop it! Leave her alone! I’m the one who put a knife through your shoulder, hurt me instead, please—”

“Coward!” Elayne gasped, tears and rage in her eyes. “Making Rand—fight your battles for you—”

“Rand, you’re stronger than she is, you can fight this, I know you can! Please!”

Rand watched as if from outside his own body. Elayne was in so much pain. And it was him causing it. He was hurting her, and—and the babies too, he was going to kill all three of them, he couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t, he couldn’t—

Kinslayer.

His beautiful son, drowning in a pool of his own blood. His little granddaughter who had fallen trying to protect her baby sister. Ilyena, looking at him with eyes wide with terror and betrayal until the life drained out of them.

Grandfather? What—what are you doing?

Light, Father, you’ve gone mad!

Mama, help me! He’s going to—

What have you done, my love? Oh, Light, what have you done?

“Beg,” Semirhage said.

“Please,” Rand choked out through his own tears. “Please, I beg you!”

He stopped channeling. Elayne let out a shuddering breath and Mat a sob of relief. In the silence, Rand realized he could feel Aviendha moving closer, and he nearly wept again. She had no idea the danger she was running straight towards, Light, Rand was going to hurt her too.

Unless she managed to act fast enough. To keep the promise she’d made to Rand, in that tent in Illian.

“Now, you see that you have always been intended to serve the Great Lord,” Semirhage said. “We will leave this room and deal with these so-called Aes Sedai who imprisoned me. We will travel to Shayol Ghul and present you to the Great Lord, and then this can all be finished.” Another slow smile spread across her face. “But I’m afraid we must deal with these two first.”

To Rand’s horror, he seized saidin again. But—but he was only weaving simple Air this time, maybe she wasn’t going to make him—

The weave wrapped around Mat’s throat and started to squeeze.

“No!” Rand shouted. He fought with everything he had to release saidin, or to redirect the weaves towards Semirhage, but he couldn’t.

Mat was wrong. Rand wasn’t strong enough.

“Stop!” Elayne sobbed. “Stop, please!” Was she talking to Semirhage, or to Rand?

Mat was gasping for air, then choking, but he met Rand’s eyes and managed to get out, “Not…your fault. It’s okay.”

Then he no longer had enough breath to speak. Rand was crying harder than ever, because he could feel Mat’s terror and the agonizing pressure crushing his windpipe, but he could also feel his love, and how could Mat do that, how could he still love Rand even now, how could he use his last words to try and make Rand not feel guilty for murdering him?

Kinslayer.

Mat’s face was going from red to purple, and Rand was back in Rhuidean again, Mat hanging from Avendesora, not breathing, so still, his lips swollen and his throat bruised—

But this time it was Rand. Rand was strangling him, Rand was killing him—with the Power, the one thing Mat had always feared more than any other, and he’d had so much faith that Rand would never use it to hurt him, had never been scared by the fact that Rand was so much more powerful than him. He had trusted Rand.

But Rand was a monster.

He was a monster.

As Aviendha drew closer—they were in Elayne’s apartments, she was almost certain—she searched her bonds for information in order to determine the best course of action. Elayne’s bond felt a little…fuzzed, like it had when the Black sisters had shielded both of them during their kidnapping. Was Elayne shielded now? That would explain the fear she felt, the despair, the helplessness. But Aviendha could not sense anybody holding saidar nearby. Could it be an Asha’man shielding her, then? Or—or a male Shadowsouled?

Rand was channeling, the characteristic ecstasy and nausea of saidin filling their bond. Aviendha frowned. Elayne was shielded. Rand was very close to her and most likely in the same room, channeling. How could that be? Perhaps whoever had shielded Elayne was not strong enough to shield Rand as well. But why was Elayne still shielded if Rand was not? Why would he not have attacked her attacker and freed her? Unless that was what he was trying to do now?

He felt so afraid. Rand was the most powerful channeler in the world. How could an attacker be too weak to shield him yet also strong enough to make him feel so afraid?

Fear was not the only thing he felt. Anguish. Hatred. But not the sort of white-hot hatred she had felt from him towards Semirhage when they had gone to see how Cadsuane Melaidhrin was getting on in the interrogation. The nauseous, disgusted hatred she had felt when Rand had said that he did not deserve to be cared for. Hatred for himself.

Something strange was going on in that room, which meant Aviendha could not rush in. She had to sneak, so that she would have an extra moment to observe the situation and decide how to handle it.

She skidded to a halt outside the lion-carved doors, startling Sulin and Enaila, who were guarding them tonight. As they opened their mouths, Aviendha made the Maiden hand gesture for silence, then explained, The Car’a’carn and the Lion are under attack in that room. Part of a new Maiden’s initiation into the society was to be given a brand-new gesture to represent her in handtalk, but for outsiders, usually existing nouns were used as nicknames of sorts. “The Lion” was what they had chosen for Elayne; Aviendha had seen them using it before. She had toh now for using handtalk despite having given up the spear, but Rand and Elayne’s safety was more important than her honor.

Sulin and Enaila did not look as if they thought Aviendha had shamed herself, or them. We saw no one enter but two of the women who serve the Lion, Enaila said. Maiden handtalk also had no gesture for “maid” or “servant.” They have not yet left.

Aviendha thought of the Aes Sedai dressed as servants who had kidnapped Rand in Cairhien. Had a similar thing happened here? But Rand should have been more than a match for two Aes Sedai. Perhaps two traitor Asha’man had woven Illusions to disguise themselves as women? Rand should have been more than a match for them too. And either way, he or Elayne should have been able to sense straightaway that the two “maids” could channel…

Aviendha’s eyes narrowed. Unless they had masked their ability and inverted their weaves. A trick unknown in this Age until Egwene, Nynaeve, and Elayne had learned it from Moghedien.

Those women may be Shadowsouled in disguise, Aviendha told Sulin and Enaila. The Car’a’carn and the Lion are in grave danger and very afraid. The Maidens all knew that Aviendha was bonded with them and could sense such things. There is no time to gather additional spears. We must dance now.

Sulin nodded, her expression determined. We will enter with stealth, she said. Lead on, sister. We are behind you.

Aviendha gripped her belt knife—opening herself to saidar would alert the attacking channelers to her presence, whether they were women or men—and eased the door open, then tiptoed inside. At the very same moment, Rand’s bond…changed.

It was filled with something else. Not saidin. Like it, yet so unlike at the same time. Even secondhand, the overwhelming rush made Aviendha feel dizzy and sick, and she stumbled and had to brace herself against the wall. It was a hundred times sweeter and a hundred times more violent than what she felt when Rand channeled saidin. And this was only an echo. How could he bear the full force of this power?

She tried to steady herself and take stock of the situation. But she only had half a second to observe Semirhage and Elza Penfell standing there, Rand with the male a’dam around his neck, Elayne weeping, Mat choking, before an explosion of fire lit up the room.

Aviendha seized saidar, forgetting about her intention of catching the attackers by surprise, but the fire was already flickering out again. Rand stood in the center of where it had been, pure murder on his face—and the collar nowhere in sight.

He had destroyed it? How was that possible? Even aside from the fact that he should not have been able to disobey Semirhage and Elza Penfell’s commands while they held the bracelets, the collar was made of cuendillar. Not even balefire could scratch it.

Semirhage and Elza Penfell both looked horrified. Elza Penfell turned and ran for the door. A white beam of light shot out and engulfed Semirhage—balefire. She was gone without a trace when the beam stopped.

The fresh surge of that terrible, wonderful power in Rand’s bond was Aviendha’s only warning. She grabbed Sulin and Enaila and flattened herself and them to the wall, just as another beam of balefire tore across the room towards Elza Penfell. Aviendha actually sucked her stomach in on instinct, that was how close it came to touching her.

The light faded, and Aviendha let out a breath when she saw that Sulin and Enaila were also unharmed. Rand met Aviendha’s eyes and his own widened, and she felt that strange power drain out of his bond, horror and self-loathing rushing in to replace it.

And nausea, even worse than the nausea of saidin; he fell to his hands and knees and vomited. Aviendha saw that Mat was crumpled in a heap on the floor—conscious, thank the Light, wheezing and coughing and massaging his throat as Elayne knelt beside him and took him into her arms, still crying.

Aviendha rushed to her partners’ sides, but she did not know who to tend to first. What had happened here? She thought back to all the oddities of her two bonds and to the split second she had seen before Rand had freed himself, and she went cold. Had Semirhage collared Rand and forced him to hurt Elayne and Mat? Those red marks on Mat’s neck, layered over the old scar there—were they from Rand’s weaves?

But Mat was starting to breathe easier and did not seem in need of immediate Healing, and Elayne’s bond told Aviendha that she had some sore muscles but no lasting injuries. Rand, though, was curled up in a ball on the floor, arms clamped around his head, sobbing fit to burst and saying “I’m sorry” over and over and over again.

Swallowing past the lump in her own throat, Aviendha turned her attention to him, taking a moment to rub his back before guiding him to sit up so that she could envelop him in her arms. “We are all safe, husband of my heart,” she murmured. “It is over now, and we are safe.”

But Rand wriggled out of her embrace. Aviendha still held her knife in a loose grip, and Rand wrapped his fingers around hers on the handle, then lifted her hand up—towards his own neck. The edge of the blade touched his skin. “You promised. In Illian,” he said. “You promised, Aviendha.”

Mat and Elayne inhaled sharply, and Aviendha’s stomach turned over as she realized what promise he was referring to.

If you ever think even for a moment that I might do something to harm you or Mat or Elayne, or any of my friends…put a little something in my wine.

I promise. But not poison in your wine. A blade through your heart. A warrior’s death. A death of honor.

With her other hand, which was shaking, Aviendha pried Rand’s fingers off and stowed the knife on her belt. “You did not do this, Rand,” she said. “She forced you to. You had no choice.”

Rand sat there a moment, looking at all three of them, trembling from head to toe, tears wet on his cheeks, anguish and fear and self-loathing filling the bond. And then he scrambled to his feet and seized saidin, and a slash of light appeared in the middle of the room.

“Rand?” Elayne said. “Where are you—come back here, you woolhead!”

But Rand was already fleeing through his gateway. Aviendha could see a field of ice on the other side. Did the fool think he could pull this trick on her, of all people? She had done it to him first.

She leapt up and raced after him.

Rand turned to close the gateway, but to his dismay, Aviendha was already coming through it, and Mat and Elayne were right on her heels. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “Get away from me! I’ll only hurt you, I’ll—”

He cut off as they reached for him, and he took a hasty step back to avoid their hands. Now he was perilously close to the edge that looked over the great gaping hole in the side of the mountain, the chasm filled with red, molten rock. The very peak of Dragonmount was barely wide enough for four people to stand on together.

This was where he’d come, last time. When the madness had loosened its grip on him long enough to make him realize that he’d killed every last person he’d ever loved.

Mat and Elayne were both moving to lean on Aviendha for support, their legs a little wobbly. Because Rand had hurt them. All the aches and fear in their bonds were his fault.

“Light, it’s bloody freezing!” Mat’s voice came out so thin and raspy that it felt like he’d stabbed a knife through Rand’s heart. “You could’ve at least chosen someplace warmer.”

“Rand, let’s go home,” Elayne said. “Please. We can talk there.”

Rand turned away from them and gazed out at the distant speck of Tar Valon, so tiny from this high up. He took deep breaths, inhaling the icy air as wind whipped his cheeks. But he didn’t feel the cold. He didn’t feel anything other than the pain in Elayne’s bond as he’d tortured her, the crushing pressure in Mat’s as he’d strangled him, the terror in Aviendha’s as she’d nearly been caught in his blast of balefire.

Balefire that had come from that strange, other source of power. The one that terrified Lews Therin more than anything else ever had. The True Power. The Dark One’s power. And Rand had used it, touched it. Now that he’d let it in, would it corrupt him, consume him to the point that the world would be better off if he didn’t live to fight the Last Battle?

Moiraine Damodred. Her name always began the list.

Liah of the Cosaida sept of the Chareen Aiel.

Fedwin Morr.

Eben Hopwil.

There were so many names, but even more that he didn’t know and never would. How many hundreds and thousands had been killed by now in the chaos that followed in his wake?

Ilyena Therin Moerelle, Lews Therin whispered. Rand always let that one stay.

But then, rather than going on to recite the names of all his children and grandchildren, Lews Therin spoke three new ones. Elayne Trakand. Mat Cauthon. Aviendha of the Nine Valleys sept of the Taardad Aiel.

They’re alive! Rand argued. We didn’t kill them!

But we will, someday, Rand replied. We will.

“What’s the point?” he asked the wind. “What’s the point of any of this? The Wheel keeps turning. People keep hurting. Why can’t it just stop?” Sorrow filled all three bonds, and Rand looked at his partners again. “Why won’t you help me make it stop?” His voice came out raw and pleading.

He was still holding saidin—the nausea had grown so bad of late that he didn’t dare let go again now that he had it. Mat and Elayne and Aviendha could all feel in the bonds that he held saidin. And yet, none of them felt afraid. Only sad.

Aviendha stepped up beside Rand and took something off her belt. Her knife. Was she going to give him that mercy now? Help him make it stop? But then she hurled it over the side of the mountain, into that fiery chasm.

Rand’s skin was free of goosebumps. Neither she nor Elayne held saidar. And Mat—Rand shuddered when he saw the fresh red marks around his neck, but the familiar chain that always hung there was gone. He hadn’t even stopped to get his medallion before following Rand through the gateway.

Why? Rand had almost killed each of them, and now they stood here right beside him, defenseless, even though they could feel him filled to the brim with saidin.

Even this much saidin wasn’t enough. Rand reached for the access key that he’d kept in his pocket at all times since cleansing saidin, too afraid of risking it falling into the wrong hands. Maybe not only for that reason. Maybe it had comforted him, knowing he had so much of the Power at his fingertips.

Rand drew more through the Choedan Kal, more and more and more. “Rand, you’re drawing too much,” Elayne said sharply. “You’ll burn out.”

“Good!” Rand burst out. “What’s the point of any of this? The Wheel spits us out and tortures us for a lifetime, then takes us back and spits us out again! It never lets us rest!” He closed his eyes, tears freezing on his cheeks almost as soon as they leaked out. “I wanted to be a shepherd. That was all. That was all I ever wanted. But the Wheel, the Pattern, the Creator, they took that from me. What right do they have to demand my life from me?”

“No bloody right at all,” Mat said, his heart aching as Rand’s screamed. “But if you’d had that life as a shepherd, you never would’ve met Elayne and Aviendha. And maybe you and I would never have become more than friends either. Is that what you would’ve wanted?”

“It would’ve been better for all of you,” Rand said. “I bring pain and death everywhere I go. To you three most of all. You’d be better off if you’d never known me. You’ll be better off once I’m dead.”

They all made noises of protest. Even Aviendha. Rand opened his eyes and took in the pain in hers. “Don’t you understand, at least?” he asked her. “Aiel embrace death. You’re the one who taught me how to.”

“There is a difference between embracing death and wishing for it,” Aviendha said in a tight voice. “And if I did not teach you that, then I have failed. I have failed you, Rand.”

“We all have,” Elayne said quietly.

All three bonds were fraught with far more pain and grief than they’d felt while he’d been killing them. As much pain and grief as had been in Ilyena’s eyes when he’d killed her.

“Why do we have to do this again?” Rand whispered. “I have already failed. She is dead by my hand. Why must you make me live it again?”

Saidin was burning him up from the inside. He held more of it now than he’d held even during the cleansing. Enough of it to burn himself out of the Pattern for good. To make it so that Mat and Elayne and Aviendha and everybody he loved didn’t have to keep being hurt by him, over and over again in every turning of the Wheel.

Then, something closed around his wrist.

Rand looked down and saw the ivory rose-and-thorns bracelet he’d given to Aviendha a lifetime ago. She had been so annoyed with him about it back then, and yet she’d never taken it off. He didn’t think he’d ever seen it leave her wrist until this moment.

“You chose this for me because it includes thorns among the roses, and you wished to make a little dig at me by calling me thorny. But I see it differently now,” she said. “When I look at this bracelet, I know that it means you see me as I am. Good and bad. Roses and thorns. You see me as I am and love me anyway, despite the bad. Because of it. Life is that way too, Rand. We cannot have happiness without pain, but because we know pain, our happiness is all the sweeter and more precious in comparison. It is true that the three of us have felt pain because you are in our lives, just as you have felt pain because we are in yours. But that pain is far outweighed by all the happiness that knowing and loving you has brought us.”

Elayne nodded, her hand cupping Rand’s cheek, her thumb wiping his frozen tears away. “If I had the choice of knowing you or not, I would choose to know you. Every single time,” she said. “No matter what happened with Semirhage today, no matter how many tears I’ve shed out of grief and worry for you, no matter how much it will hurt if—if we lose you at the Last Battle, I would always choose to share my life with you. You’re hurting right now and it’s hard for you to see all the good you’ve done, but Light, Rand, I feel so grateful that the Wheel did make you live again, and at the same time as me.”

“So do I.” Mat took Rand’s hand and lifted it up, uncurling his index finger from the Choedan Kal to touch it to the old scar on his neck. And the new bruise. Rand shivered and tried to pull his hand away, but Mat held it there. “I suppose I wouldn’t have gotten either of these injuries if I’d had a quiet life back in the Two Rivers, without ever knowing you or being ta’veren myself. But neither of them killed me, because of you. Because you saved me, both times, and a dozen other times besides. And I would gladly take a dozen near-death experiences if it meant I got to have even one hour of loving you.”

“How can you say that we would have been better off if we had never known you?” Aviendha said. “You have brought so much light into our lives, Rand.” She smiled, even as her eyes shone with tears. How could she smile right now? “Husband of my heart.”

Elayne was smiling too. “My Light.”

And so was Mat. “My brightest star.”

Rand looked between all three of them. There was sorrow still, and pain and fear, but more than anything there was love. Love on three faces, in three bonds, overwhelming him.

Why do we live again? Lews Therin suddenly asked.

Yes. Tell me, Rand said desperately. Why?

Maybe… Lews Therin’s voice was calm, soft. Lucid. Not mad. Why? Could it be…maybe it’s so that we can have a second chance.

Rand stood frozen as the words sunk in. He could—he could see her. Ilyena. In Elayne’s sharp mind. Mat’s easy laugh. Aviendha’s fierce heart.

None of them were actually her soul reborn, he didn’t think. But a part of her did live on in each of them. Because he loved them as he’d loved her.

Moiraine Damodred. She had often played stones with him in Tear and Cairhien, and the first time he’d beaten her, she’d graced him with the rare smile that always made him feel as if his mother were still with him. And she’d loved Lan and Siuan more than anything.

Liah of the Cosaida sept of the Chareen Aiel. She’d been there the first time he’d had too much oosquai, rubbing his back as he’d heaved his guts up and getting herbs from the Wise Ones to soothe his headache and teasing him mercilessly once she’d been certain he was feeling better. And she’d loved her spear-sisters more than anything.

Fedwin Morr. He’d come from a village in the foothills of the Mountains of Mist, farther south than the Two Rivers, but he and Rand had passed a number of pleasant evenings reminiscing about the mountains that had raised them both. And he’d loved his parents more than anything.

Eben Hopwil. He’d looked up to Rand as an older brother and once asked him for advice on wooing a Maiden who had caught his interest and, when Rand had said he was the worst person to ask about such matters, had laughed and laughed and asked how under the Light he’d managed to snag three partners if that was the case. And he’d loved that Maiden and Daigian more than anything.

They had died, yes. But they had also lived. They had loved and been loved. And—and he didn’t think any of them would have wanted to give up that chance of life and love, even if they’d known it would be short, the end violent.

Rand would die, but he’d also lived. He’d hurt and been hurt, but he’d also loved and been loved.

Brushing Elayne’s hair before bed while she spoke about her day and asked after his. Snuggling into Mat’s warm arms to help get back to sleep after a nightmare. Waking up to the sight of Aviendha’s soft smile bathed in the glow of the morning sun.

Racing Perrin through the field near the al’Thor farm. Gossiping with Egwene at the Winespring Inn. Being fussed over by Nynaeve whenever he so much as scraped a knee. Relaxing at home by the fire with Tam. Learning sword forms from Lan. Playing the flute under Thom’s approving eye. Making the Maidens laugh with something he hadn’t meant to be a joke. Teaching the Asha’man new weaves.

What would his children be like? Would they have Elayne’s smile? Mat’s eyes? Aviendha’s spirit?

The joy in Ilyena’s eyes as she’d danced at their wedding. The sparkle in Mierin’s after they’d shared their first kiss. The light in Elan’s whenever they engaged in a friendly philosophical debate. The warmth in Barid’s when he’d said how lucky he was to have him for a friend. Those memories were tinged with pain now. But they were pleasant ones, at their core. Happy ones.

Why? Rand thought, his throat tight and his heart full. Because each time we live, we get to love again.

He let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the realization. “I live again because I failed last time,” he said in wonder. “The Wheel turned me out again to—to give me a second chance. I don’t fight because the Pattern’s forcing me to. I fight because I want to. Because I want to fix what I did wrong.”

He looked from Elayne’s smiling, tearstained face to Aviendha’s to Mat’s. He had almost killed them today. Almost. That was the difference between this time and last time.

“I want to do it right this time,” he said.

He turned away from his partners and held his hand out over Dragonmount’s fiery chasm. And he channeled saidin into the Choedan Kal, into the massive sa’angreal it was linked to. That statue he had seen being excavated in Cairhien, so long ago, when he’d been running from his fate, when he’d thought Mat hated him, when he’d assumed Elayne had forgotten him, when he hadn’t even known Aviendha existed.

It was the most powerful weapon in the world. Too powerful. A weapon that should never have been created.

Hundreds of miles away, the statue shattered, and on Dragonmount, so did the access key.

Rand released saidin, and no nausea accompanied it, no dizziness, no double vision. And Lews Therin was silent in his head. Maybe he would never speak again. Because they weren’t two different men. They never had been. Lews Therin was Rand, and Rand was Lews Therin. And if Rand embraced happiness in this life while he had the chance, maybe it could go a ways towards healing the pain in which his last life had ended.

So he opened his arms and swept Elayne, Mat, and Aviendha up into a tight embrace, and he laughed. It had been only a few weeks since he’d last laughed, but it felt like so much longer, his face muscles stretching in ways they’d grown unaccustomed to.

His partners laughed with him, and cried, so much love and relief swirling in the bonds that it made Rand cry too. It hurt to know that he hurt them so much by wanting to die, yet it was also…a reassurance. That he was loved. That he had made at least three people’s lives brighter by being part of them. That he had done a little better in some way with this second chance at life the Wheel had given him.

He wasn’t going to waste that chance. Maybe he would have to die at Tarmon Gai’don. Most likely he would. And he was ready to embrace death—but he wasn’t going to wish for it anymore, if he could help it. There would be dark days ahead, and perhaps he would find himself slipping back into that desire to end it all. But his partners needed him, and his friends needed him, and his father needed him, and his children needed him. Needed Rand al’Thor to live because they loved him, not just needed the Dragon Reborn to survive because he was the Light’s only hope.

Rand would do his damnedest to keep on wishing for life even when it was hard, for their sake. For their sake until he could do it for his own.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” Elayne said, face buried in his shoulder as she clung to him.

Aviendha kissed his temple. “As do I.”

“Me too,” Mat said. “Now, can we please go home? My toes are about to freeze off!”

Chapter Text

They made a gateway back into the deserted attic storage room of the palace, which turned out to be a wise move, as Elayne’s apartments were packed to the brim with people when they arrived there on foot. Sulin and Enaila had apparently raised the alarm about Semirhage’s attack and their disappearance through a gateway, so Maidens and Wise Ones and Aes Sedai and Asha’man and Guardswomen and Redarms alike were buzzing about frantically trying to figure out what had happened.

“Where under the Light have you been?” Nynaeve demanded when she saw the four of them appear in the doorway. Rand had his Illusion disguise on now, but he usually used the same one and those who knew the Dragon Reborn was in Caemlyn recognized that disguise as him, and the Guardswomen recognized it as somebody important to Elayne even if they didn’t know the whole truth about his identity. Although Rand wouldn’t be surprised if they’d started to suspect who he really was but were keeping quiet about it to protect Elayne.

Heads whipped around towards them, and the relief on everyone’s faces made Rand feel guilty for worrying them. The Maidens and Asha’man swarmed Rand to fuss over him, Birgitte and Gawyn and the Guardswomen swarmed and fussed over Elayne, the Wise Ones swarmed and fussed over (or perhaps fussed at) Aviendha, Olver and Talmanes and the Redarms swarmed and fussed over Mat, and Nynaeve, Thom, and Juilin seemed to be trying to swarm and fuss over all four of them at once. Even some of the Aes Sedai seemed concerned for Rand, and so did everybody who’d checked on his partners first, once they’d made sure they were well.

Rand hadn’t…hadn’t realized how many people cared for him. For him, not just for the Dragon Reborn.

Nynaeve noticed Mat’s new neck injury straightaway and Healed it, with his permission. Only the old scar remained afterwards, not a trace of what Rand had done to him. What Semirhage had done to him, Rand tried to remind himself. His partners didn’t blame him for what had happened, and they were the ones who had been hurt, the ones who had the right to assign blame, so if they didn’t assign it to Rand, who was he to do so against their will?

Still, he thought it would be a while before he’d be able to look at any of them without feeling at least some guilt, or remembering that helpless panic of being collared and forced to hurt them.

Sulin handed Mat his medallion—she must have scooped it up off the floor and kept it safe for him—and he put it back on, then wrapped his arm around Rand’s waist, soothingly petting his side. No doubt he’d felt Rand’s guilt flaring back up again. Rand tried to suppress it, for Mat’s sake.

Elayne had no lasting injuries, but Nynaeve Healed her soreness from—from the torture weaves, and then Monaelle performed Caressing the Child to ensure the babies hadn’t been harmed. As she did so, Aviendha took something from Enaila. The bracelets from the a’dam, Rand realized with a nauseous shiver. Mat’s grip on his waist tightened, and he brushed a kiss against Rand’s shoulder.

Aviendha held the bracelets out to Cadsuane. “Explain this,” she said, and Rand realized that she felt angry in the bond. Not just angry, furious.

For once, Cadsuane appeared at a loss for words. “But those are…where is the collar?” she demanded. “How did they get separated?”

“I am more interested in how the collar wound up in the hands of a Shadowsouled and then around the neck of my partner!” Aviendha snapped. “Your prisoner escaped on your watch, stole the collar that you were supposed to have been guarding, and nearly killed my brother and partners, Cadsuane Melaidhrin. What have you to say to that?”

Cadsuane leveled Aviendha with a stern look. “If you speak to me in such tones again, child, I will paddle your bottom until you—”

“I will show you respect when you show me some, and since that has yet to happen, I will speak to you in whatever tones I wish,” Aviendha said. “Your childish beratements are the last thing Rand al’Thor needs at the moment, and if you cannot provide anything else, then you will leave this room now.”

Amys covered her mouth with her hand. Was she hiding a smile? Mat laughed openly, Elayne’s face was smooth but her bond was full of amusement and delight, and Rand had to fight back a grin of his own. Cadsuane looked flabbergasted, but before she could retort, Sorilea turned to her and said, “Come, we will investigate how Semirhage escaped.”

With a huff, Cadsuane turned on her heel and stalked off, and Sorilea and Melaine followed, though the other Wise Ones stayed behind, likely intending to get the full story from Rand, Aviendha, Elayne, and Mat before joining the investigation. Monaelle stepped back from Elayne and declared both babies in perfect health; Rand let out a relieved breath and felt equal relief in all three bonds.

Then the four of them began the tale, first warding the room against listeners since they didn’t want to cause widespread panic with the news that Semirhage had escaped, or even that she’d been in the palace all week in the first place. Elayne and Mat told most of it, with Aviendha chiming in here and there, for which Rand was grateful. And he was more grateful still when they said that Semirhage was responsible for their injuries and omitted the fact that the weaves had been Rand’s.

By the time they finished, Rand thought it must be abundantly clear to the Guardswomen both that he was the Dragon Reborn and that all four of them were in a relationship. None of them showed any hint of surprise, though. Either they were well trained in not reacting visibly to things said around them, or Rand was a fool to have entertained the belief that the women responsible for guarding Elayne’s person and bedroom at all times wouldn’t have noticed what was going on. Likely the latter. After all, back in the Waste the Maidens had figured out Rand and Aviendha had feelings for each other before the two of them even had.

The Wise Ones left, Amys telling Aviendha that she was expected at their tents at dawn tomorrow, and then Nynaeve shooed everyone else out so that Rand, Elayne, Aviendha, and Mat could get some rest. But in the ensuing quiet, as Rand looked around the room, he felt uneasiness creep up.

Just there was where he’d been standing when he’d felt the collar close around his neck. The color of the drapes reminded him of Mat choking for air, because he’d been bound helplessly right in front of them while Rand had strangled him. He could hear Elayne’s screams in the pattern on the chair she’d leapt out of when Semirhage had shielded her. Aviendha, Sulin, and Enaila had been pressed against that very spot on the wall when the light of his balefire had faded.

Elayne slipped her hand through his, and Rand forced himself to take deep breaths. “It’s about time I moved into the Queen’s apartments anyway,” she said, and Rand gave her a shaky but grateful smile. Even with help from the bond, it was amazing how easily she could read him. Or, he realized as he felt similar unease echoed in her and Mat’s bonds, maybe he wasn’t the only one who had too many bad memories in this room now.

And so they went to the Queen’s apartments. Essande and Mistress Harfor tracked Elayne down as they were walking, having heard that she’d been attacked, and upon arrival fretted that the apartments hadn’t been properly prepared yet for her to move into, but Elayne told them that at the moment she needed nothing more than a bed to sleep in, and eventually she managed to get them out the door. Birgitte stepped out too, promising to stand guard in the corridor with Gawyn and the dozen Maidens and Guardswomen who’d accompanied them.

Elayne persuaded the other three to join her for a bath. Rand had bathed just last night, but he agreed readily. That collar around his neck had made him feel…dirty. He didn’t realize his hand was touching his throat, as if to check that the collar was really gone, until Aviendha took it in her own and lifted it to her lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

They said little as they bathed. Rand could feel that the other three were as wrung out as he was. Once they were curled up together in the bed that was somehow even bigger and more luxurious than the one in the Daughter-Heir’s apartments, Elayne asked, “How are you feeling, my Light?”

Rand wanted to point out that she could feel in the bond how he was feeling, but…maybe it was good for him, for all of them, to still talk about their feelings instead of only relying on the bonds to tell them everything they needed to know. He was quiet a moment, trying to think how to put it into words. Aviendha and Mat were cuddling him from either side and Elayne was curled up fully on top of him (though she was careful to keep her weight off his unhealing wound), a position Rand didn’t think would be comfortable for actual sleeping, but right now it was everything he wanted. To be quite literally enveloped in their love.

“Tired,” he said finally. “Relieved that you’re all alive.” He paused. “That…we’re all alive.” Light, how bad had things gotten that his partners felt that much relief to hear him say that he was glad he was alive? And that he had to think a moment before adding it? “And relieved that you don’t—hate me. For what happened.”

“We don’t hate you, Rand,” Mat confirmed, and Rand relaxed. It was…it was good to hear him say that aloud and in no uncertain terms. “Everything that happened was Semirhage’s fault. None of us blames you for any of it in the slightest. Or, well, I shouldn’t speak for Elayne and Aviendha…”

“I don’t blame you either,” Elayne said, pressing a kiss to Rand’s collarbone. “Of course I don’t.”

“Nor do I,” Aviendha said.

“You don’t even know what happened, Aviendha,” Rand said. “Not all of it, anyway.” Since she’d only witnessed the tail end of it and then heard a falsified version of the full story.

“Then will you tell me?”

Slowly, haltingly, and with help from Mat and Elayne when he couldn’t find the words or the strength to speak them, Rand did. He was crying by the end. “S-Sorry,” he said.

“Tears are a strength,” Aviendha said, petting his hair. She was crying too, he realized, and so were Mat and Elayne. “For they allow you to release pain rather than keep it bottled up and gnawing away at your heart.”

So Rand let himself cry. Let himself feel that pain, without trying to flee into the Void. “It hurts,” he said, voice cracking a little.

“Yes,” Mat said simply. “And that’s a good thing. I can feel how much you’re hurting right now and that makes me glad, because pain is better than that—that empty nothingness I felt from you in the bond after Semirhage took your hand. Pain means that you’re still yourself, that you’re still anchored to the world. And to the people in it. If you can still feel pain, then that means you can still love. And that means that you can heal. Be whole again.”

Aviendha nodded. “Pain and joy are not enemies, but companions,” she said. “The only true enemy of joy is apathy.”

“It hurts because you care so much. Because you have things and people to fight for,” Elayne said. “And Gareth Bryne always said that the fiercest fighter isn’t a man who has nothing to lose, but one who has everything to lose.”

Rand mulled that over. It did make sense. For a time, he’d thought that all that mattered was defeating the Dark One. He’d thought that if he stopped caring about anything but that goal, it would make him strong enough to accomplish it. That his duty was only to win the Last Battle, and that worrying about what came after the Last Battle was a waste of precious time since he would be dead by then, unable to do anything about whatever subsequent disasters befell the world.

But none of that was true. That way of thinking hadn’t made him strong—it had made him brittle. This, now, this fire in him, this passionate need to protect the world for his loved ones, this fear of losing them, this pain from seeing them suffer, this was strength. He didn’t want to defeat the Dark One only because it was his duty or even because it was the right thing to do. He wanted to do it because he wanted to leave a better world behind for the people he cared about. Because he wanted them to live and love and be happy after the Last Battle was over.

Because he wanted to live and love and be happy with them, if by some miracle it could be possible.

“I’m sorry for all the times I’ve hurt you. Hurt you in your hearts, not just brought physical danger to you,” Rand added when they started to protest. Maybe he’d never been at fault for any physical pain of theirs, but he knew the blame for a great deal of emotional pain rested on his shoulders. “And…thank you, for always sticking by me and loving me despite it.”

Elayne kissed the corner of his jaw. “You would do the same for us.”

“And have done,” Mat said. “Remember my stint under the influence of a cursed dagger? I caused you far more grief then than you ever have me, but you never gave up on me.”

Rand couldn’t help but laugh a little. Light, the road to Caemlyn felt like so long ago. He never would have imagined that road would lead him to where he was now. But not all of the changes since then had been bad, he thought, moving his hand to rest on Elayne’s stomach and feeling love enveloping him from three bonds, three bodies.

No, they hadn’t all been bad. Since then he’d experienced the greatest pain and sorrow of his life, but also the greatest love and joy. And maybe the former was worth it, in some way, if it meant he got to have the latter.

Aviendha sat up. “I have a gift for you, and for you too, Mat. Devotion gifts,” she said. “I have been waiting for the proper moment to give them to you.”

Curious, Rand sat up too, holding Elayne in his lap, and so did Mat. As Aviendha opened the drawer of her bedside table and felt around inside it, she explained the Aiel concept of devotion gifts and Elayne showed them the ivory lily necklace Aviendha had given to her while they were in Far Madding. Rand had suspected that necklace was a gift from Aviendha, since it was so different from Elayne’s other jewelry and she never took it off even to sleep.

Aviendha pulled two small objects out of the drawer and gave one to Mat. “It’s a tiny clock!” Mat said, delight filling the bond. “How did they make it so small? Where did you find it?”

Rand peered over Elayne’s shoulder and saw that indeed, Mat was holding a clock the size of his palm, the round clockface covered with thin glass to protect it and backed with silver. “There is a clockmaker in the city who makes these small ones, though I do not know how she does it. She said that you can carry it in your pocket to always know the hour, if the sun is not a good enough clock for you,” Aviendha said with a disapproving sniff.

Mat had already figured out how to unscrew the silver backing so that he could see the hidden gears that made the clock tick. He lifted it to eyelevel, studying it with fascination, and Elayne leaned in too for a closer look. Rand and Aviendha exchanged a fond smile. Their inventors.

Rand’s gift was a necklace, but the pendant was bulkier than Elayne’s and smooth gold rather than carved ivory. It opened, he realized, fumbling a little to open it one-handed, and inside was…

A broad smile spread across his face. “Oh, so that’s what you wanted that for,” Mat said.

It was a small drawing of Mat, Elayne, and Aviendha, all of them smiling at the viewer. At Rand. He traced his finger over the charcoal lines, marveling at how the artist had managed on such a small canvas to capture the warmth of Elayne’s dimple, the mischief in Mat’s eyes, the sense that full smiles from Aviendha were precious because of their rarity.

“Jahar Narishma has skill in drawing,” Aviendha said. “But he wished for me to tell you that he could have done better had his subjects deigned to sit for him for longer than half an hour.”

“Yes, he was quite cross about that,” Elayne recalled. “As if it was our fault we had other duties preventing us from spending the entire day sitting for him.”

Rand laughed. “It’s beautiful as it is,” he said. “It—it looks just like you.”

“Since duty often takes you away from us, I thought that you might like to have a small way to keep us with you wherever you go,” Aviendha explained, a little shyly.

Rand leaned in and kissed her, then put the necklace on. The chain was long, and the pendant settled against his stomach just below the center of his ribcage. A comforting little weight. A way to carry his heart around with him, always.

“I love it, Aviendha. Thank you,” he said. “But I have nothing to give you.”

“I give you this because I wish to reaffirm my devotion to you after all the changes and troubles we have faced of late. Not because I want or expect a gift in return,” Aviendha said. She cupped his cheek and offered him one of those rare, precious smiles. “Besides, you have already given me everything I could wish for, husband of my heart.”

Rand blinked back a few tears and turned his head to kiss her palm. Husband of my heart. It still thrilled him to hear her call him that.

Would she want to get married, and Elayne and Mat? Rand wanted to marry all three of them. He’d been reluctant before, thinking that there was no point since he was going to die, or that marrying them would endanger them further or make his death hurt them even more, but Mat was right that that was a silly line of thought. They were already in danger, because the Shadow knew they were associated with him even if perhaps not the extent of his love for them, and because they were targets in their own rights, two powerful channelers and a ta’veren. And they already loved him, would already hurt when he died. Marrying them first wouldn’t make that pain worse than it was already going to be—but it might make it a little better, by giving them some extra happiness with him before he had to leave them, a few more pleasant memories they could cherish after he was gone.

Rand wanted to marry them, and Mat had said he liked the idea too back in Far Madding. But what would Elayne think? As a queen—of two countries, no less—marriage was a political matter for her, not just a personal one. She had more to consider when it came to marriage than the rest of them did.

And Rand would never want to shame Aviendha by proposing to her; she would give him a bridal wreath, but she hadn’t done so yet or indicated that she was planning to. Did she want to marry him? Did he have to wait and see if she was going to ask, or could he at least discuss the topic with her and find out her thoughts without shaming her?

Maybe another day all four of them could talk about it, he decided. Tonight, he was far too tired. So he settled back down in bed with Elayne, Mat, and Aviendha all cuddling him, and he soon drifted off to sleep.

“Am I boring you?” Thom said dryly as Elayne stifled yet another yawn.

“Forgive me, Thom,” she said. “I didn’t sleep well last night.” Between her own nightmares and her partners’, she didn’t think she’d managed more than a few hours.

Thom’s face softened. He’d been there when they’d returned from Dragonmount. He’d heard the story of Semirhage’s attack, seen how shaken all four of them had been. “I can imagine,” he said. “Perhaps you ought to head off to bed.”

“There’s too much to do today. But I’ll try to turn in early tonight if I can,” Elayne added when Thom’s expression grew stern. “Now, please continue with what you were saying.”

Thankfully, Thom obliged rather than lecturing her about her sleeping habits, which she really didn’t need any more people doing. He was filling her in on all the latest rumors and gossip from the palace and the city, and Elayne listened carefully and decided which rumors to let lie, which to encourage, and which to counter by planting opposing rumors. The latter two courses of action, Thom and Juilin would take care of.

Today, Elayne was pleased by most of the talk Thom reported. With conditions in the city improving, the common people were on average in favor of Elayne’s rule. House Trakand’s reputation was rising fast from the depths Morgase had plunged it into, and reports of the Forsaken being loose again were starting to be taken seriously enough that Elayne might soon be able to announce publicly that “Lord Gaebril” had been Rahvin and had held Morgase under Compulsion, thereby clearing her mother’s name and memory. The Dragon Reborn was rumored to be in a dozen different places at present, but none of them Caemlyn.

The confusion about their personal lives was growing by the day, but for the most part that confusion was merely amusing and didn’t pose any real problems. The Queen’s Aiel Warder was secretly her lover. No, it was her other Warder, the Captain-General, who was her lover, and he was her babies’ father as well. No, General Cauthon had slain the Shaido chief in Cairhien out of devotion for the Dragon Reborn, who was his beloved. No, the Queen was the one who’d held the Dragon’s affections in Cairhien, but she’d given him the cold shoulder since then due to his desire to seize Andor for himself. No, the Dragon Reborn had betrayed General Cauthon with the Queen and General Cauthon had gotten revenge by taking the Queen to bed himself and getting her with child. No, the Queen was bedding all three of her Warders, because she was of the Green Ajah and everybody knew Greens did things like that.

Of course, the third Warder in that equation was Birgitte since only a few trusted people knew that Elayne had bonded Rand. Elayne grinned and told Thom to encourage that rumor, just a little. Maybe being believed Elayne’s lover would horrify Birgitte enough to get her to stop breathing down Elayne’s neck and muttering about risk-taking every time she left her apartments.

The budding rumors of Elayne’s relationship with Rand in Cairhien hadn’t significantly harmed public trust in her, fortunately—thank the Light they’d only just begun trickling in now, and not during the struggle for the Lion Throne—but Thom had heard a few whispers floating the idea that Rand had fathered her children, which was worrisome. Only a few whispers, though, and hardly anyone placed real credibility in them since gossiping palace servants had ensured the whole city knew Elayne was two months into her pregnancy now, and two months ago Elayne had most certainly been in Caemlyn and the Dragon Reborn had most certainly not. Thom assured her that it was still an all but accepted fact that Mat was the babies’ father.

“On that note,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “now that Mat has returned to your side, many are wondering whether Andor might soon see a new Prince Consort.”

Elayne blushed. “I doubt Mat would want that title.”

“I shouldn’t think so either, but that boy does love you more than he hates noble titles.”

Would Mat want to marry her publicly? He was the safest and least controversial choice for her public spouse, compared to an Aielwoman and the Dragon Reborn. But he would hate the titles and attention that came with it more than Rand or even Aviendha would.

Elayne didn’t truly need any public spouse, though. While the identity of her children’s father was a natural topic of speculation, it didn’t actually matter. In Andor, the Daughter-Heir had to be the child of the Queen—and the fact that the Queen had given birth to her could of course never be in doubt—but her paternity was inconsequential. Most Daughter-Heirs had been fathered by Prince Consorts or other nobles, but some by commoners or soldiers or servants, and all had been considered equally legitimate heirs to the Lion Throne.

Although, there was also Cairhien to consider. Elayne couldn’t rule two countries at once for the rest of her life; she intended to pass the Sun Throne on to her son as soon as he was ready. Hopefully he wouldn’t face opposition so long as she had proven House Trakand capable and dependable during her reign…but the simple fact that it was House Trakand, an Andoran House, could present problems. He would have a small amount of Damodred blood, yes, but nobody would consider him to have a true claim to that House. And while the Cairhienin accepted Elayne on the throne for now, would they object to her trying to install an Andoran House as the permanent royal line of Cairhien?

But Rand held great authority and influence in Cairhien. Many obeyed him because they feared him, but at least as many did so because they were grateful to him for saving them from the Shaido and putting an end to civil war and sending them grain from Tear during the famine. If Elayne publicly married Rand, if it was believed that the Dragon Reborn was the father or at least the stepfather of her children, then their son’s claim to the Sun Throne would be bolstered.

And the danger to his and his sister’s lives would be heightened. Elayne sighed. She was back at square one.

She intended to marry all three of her partners privately, of course, as long as they wanted it. But Light, she wished she could marry all three publicly too and tell everybody who had a problem with it to go to the Pit of Doom. She just might have done that very thing if her worries had only been gossip rather than the real danger that a known connection to the Dragon Reborn would bring their children.

Even if the Light was victorious at the Last Battle, even if Elayne didn’t have to worry about the Shadow targeting their children, there would still be others who would wish to. Even if Rand saved the world, he would still leave behind a complicated legacy, and some might want to eliminate the chance of his children rising to take all the power and thrones he’d amassed. The thought of a future without Rand made the woman in Elayne shudder, but the queen had to be prepared for it.

The topic of marriage weighed on Elayne’s mind all day. As Essande was undressing her for bed—and Elayne was turning in a little early, early enough that none of her partners had returned yet—Elayne asked, “Essande, do the servants expect me to marry soon? You may speak frankly without fear of offending me. I wish to know anything you have heard on the subject.”

Thom’s ability to gather gossip was unparalleled, but sometimes it was helpful to talk with a member of the gossiping group directly. And servants were one of the biggest—and most important—gossiping groups there were.

“There has been talk of late, my Queen,” Essande confirmed, arthritic fingers undoing the buttons down the back of Elayne’s dress with surprising deftness. “But they don’t rightly know who to expect your choice to be. Some are hoping for Lord Mat, others for Lady Aviendha. But, from what I’ve heard…most think it’s a shame that only one of them can be chosen.”

Elayne’s breath caught. “What do you mean by that? They—they want me to marry both of them?”

“Well, I don’t know if anybody has quite landed upon an idea that outlandish—outlandish to their minds, that is, my Queen,” Essande hastened to add, but Elayne waved off the apology. Marrying multiple people was outlandish to anybody but an Aiel, and she wasn’t offended to hear Essande report it as such. “But Lord Mat is beloved inside the palace, because he always has a joke and a helping hand and a kind word ready for even the lowest-ranking servant, and people have come to feel proud of Lady Aviendha too, despite thinking some of her ways are strange, and protective of her after she was kidnapped alongside you. And most of the servants believe they both love you and don’t want to see either of them be cast off and hurt should you choose the other.”

Elayne mulled that over, hope rising in her chest. She doubted the same would hold true for Andor’s nobles—most of them hated Mat for the same reasons the servants loved him and disdained Aviendha as an uncivilized Aiel—but the nobles weren’t the ones living in the palace with her every day, witnessing so much of her private life.

“And if I were to…make my relationships with both of them less discreet,” she said, “how do you imagine that would be received, among the servants?”

“Hmm. That’s hard to predict, my Queen,” Essande said. “It would be a shock, of course. On the other hand, we don’t tend to question nobles’ business, particularly not their personal business. And you’re Aes Sedai and the two of them your Warders. Most accept that Aes Sedai do things a little different than us regular folk. Greens especially, when it comes to their Warders and suchlike.”

“I see,” Elayne said, smiling. It was, of course, absurd to entertain the idea of publicly marrying multiple people, but perhaps the servants’ favorable opinion of Mat and Aviendha might lead to blind eyes being turned should she stop working so hard to conceal her relationships with them.

Light, but it would be nice to be able to hold hands with them while strolling the gardens. To allow her love for them to show on her face when she looked at them in front of others. To have them treat the twins as their own children anywhere in the palace, rather than only in the safety of their private rooms. Those small freedoms would mean far more to her—and to Mat and Aviendha, most likely—than public marriages would.

“I have only one more question,” she said. “Do any of the servants suspect that the other man who sleeps in my apartments is the Dragon Reborn?” The Guardswomen knew by now, but they never spread gossip because they were very protective of Elayne’s privacy; the rest of the palace staff was another matter, though.

“I don’t believe so, my Queen, at least not so far as I’ve ever heard.” And Essande did keep almost as close an ear on gossip for Elayne as Thom and Juilin did. An ear that was rather hard of hearing, admittedly. “Everybody seems to believe that he’s one of Lord Mat’s men, and that he sleeps in your apartments as a bodyguard for Lord Mat rather than as a…companion for you. But even if they did find out who he was…among the servants, we think of the Dragon Reborn as the man who saved us from Lord Gaebril and his toadies. They always abused us something terrible, but the Dragon Reborn was very kind to us when he was in residence here and became well-liked for it.”

Elayne smiled. She would have to pass that on to Rand. It would do him good to be reminded that not everybody saw him as a figure of chaos and destruction. To many, he was a savior.

“We don’t have the time to worry about politics and alliances,” Essande continued, “but if you did announce an alliance between Andor and the Dragon Reborn, whether a political alliance or a marital one, I think most of the servants would think it a good thing.”

Ah, that public alliance Elayne had promised to Rand. He’d agreed to keep his distance from Andor and not interfere in her efforts to claim the Lion Throne as long as she declared Andor’s alliance with him once she’d secured the throne. He hadn’t pressed her about it this week, with all the other matters troubling both of them, but Elayne knew it was time to fulfill her end of that bargain. Was it the right moment? Perhaps the palace servants might be receptive, but would the rest of Andor be? Was her hold on the throne secure enough for her to make this potentially unpopular move?

Even if it wasn’t, the Last Battle was too close for her to be able to afford to wait much longer. Andor needed to be securely allied with Rand and ready to march with him to Shayol Ghul.

“Thank you for your candor, Essande,” she said. “You’ve given me much to think about.”

Elayne had asked Rand and Mat to stay up until Aviendha arrived because there was something Elayne wanted to discuss with all three of them, but Aviendha was out at the Wise Ones tents’ so late into the night that they’d all fallen asleep by the time she’d finally come to bed. And when they woke up in the morning, she was already gone.

This pattern continued for several days—Elayne might’ve thought Aviendha wasn’t spending the night at the palace at all if she hadn’t woken from nightmares a few times and seen Aviendha asleep beside her. At last Elayne managed to wake early enough in the morning that Aviendha was still getting ready to leave but hadn’t left yet.

“Morning,” Elayne said sleepily from the bed, admiring the way the light of dawn glinted off Aviendha’s hair as she tied her scarf around it. “You’re in a hurry. And I’ve barely seen you for days.”

“Yes,” Aviendha said. “The Wise Ones are expecting me.”

She made for the door, and Elayne scrambled out of bed and went to grab her wrist. “Wait, stay,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you, all three of you, about something important.”

“I must go, Elayne,” Aviendha said. Why was she avoiding Elayne’s eyes?

“It will only take a moment,” Elayne insisted. “I’ll just bring up the subject now, and then we can all think about it on our own and talk about it more when we have more time. Please?”

Aviendha hesitated, then gave a short nod, still staring resolutely at the door rather than Elayne. Elayne went back to the bed and woke Mat and Rand—she felt terrible about it because Light knew they needed their sleep, particularly Rand, but with Aviendha so hard to catch lately and Rand and Mat leaving tomorrow for Arad Doman, Elayne didn’t know when or if another opportunity for this conversation would arise.

Mat groused a bit but quickly settled down when he realized that Elayne wanted to discuss something serious. “What is it?” Rand asked, completely alert despite the early hour.

“Nothing to do with politics or the Last Battle or the Shadow or anything like that,” Elayne hastened to assure them. “Just a personal matter, but one that’s important.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been wondering what the three of you think about marriage.” She was certain of a positive response from Aviendha, since they’d both agreed they already felt married, but Rand and especially Mat, she wasn’t as sure about.

But to her surprise, it was Rand’s and Mat’s faces and bonds that lit up with joy and excitement—and Aviendha’s that filled with something negative. What was that feeling? Shame? Why would Aviendha feel—blood and ashes, had Elayne inadvertently violated some Aiel custom by bringing the subject up in this way, had she shamed Aviendha?

“I cannot marry you,” Aviendha said stiffly, her face blank. “Not either of you.”

Elayne felt hurt come into Rand’s bond and bewilderment into Mat’s. For her own part, she felt rather as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “You can’t?” she said, voice quivering. “Why not? I thought…when we talked about it a month ago you said…”

“Things have changed in that time.”

“What things?” Elayne asked.

“What’s wrong, Aviendha?” Rand said. “Why do you feel so—so ashamed?”

That made the shame in her bond double. She scowled at Rand. “You ought to know how shaming it is to point out another’s shame, Rand,” she said. “It is one of the first lessons I taught you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“You never have to feel shame with us, Aviendha, you know that,” Elayne said. “Please, just tell us what’s upset you so.”

“I cannot marry you at this time and that is the end of it,” Aviendha said firmly, but Elayne could feel that she was hurt too. She was hurt and she was ashamed…and she was longing. Longing to marry them? Then why was she saying she couldn’t? “Now I must go.”

And she left—fled, almost—the room without another word. Elayne stared at the closed door for a moment, dumbfounded, then turned to Rand and Mat. Rand had tears in his eyes, and Mat was rubbing his back soothingly, brow furrowed. Mat held his free hand out to Elayne, who took it gratefully and sat with them on the bed, snuggling into them.

“I don’t understand,” Elayne whispered, pressing her face into Mat’s shoulder as Rand let out a few sniffles. “I thought she wanted to marry us. She told me before that she did.”

“Did we do something wrong?” Rand said in a watery voice. “Did I? Maybe…maybe after everything that day with—with Semirhage and Dragonmount—”

“Don’t be stupid,” Mat said, not unkindly. “Aviendha does not hold a single thing against you for that day, Rand, and you certainly haven’t done anything wrong. Neither of you have. You said she felt ashamed just now?” Elayne and Rand both nodded. “Then there must be something toh-related going on. Some toh that she feels she has that prevents her from agreeing to marry you. I’ll talk to her later, once she’s calmed down.”

“If she wouldn’t tell us now, why would she tell you later?” Rand said.

“Clearly you didn’t learn enough about Aiel ways,” Mat teased, kissing the top of Rand’s head, then Elayne’s. “Some conversations are best had with a first-sibling.”

Mat waited until evening before heading out to the Wise Ones’ tents to look for Aviendha. Which was longer than he’d intended to wait, but unfortunately, he was an important person in Caemlyn and had responsibilities.

The Wise Ones had been keeping Aviendha so busy that Mat expected to have to play the first-brother card with them to be allowed to talk to her, but to his surprise, he found her sitting on the ground, unsupervised, with two buckets of water in front of her. Mat cocked his head. She appeared to be moving water from one bucket to the other one drop at a time by dipping her finger into the first bucket and moving it to the second in time for the drop to fall into it. Why under the Light…

…she was being punished, he realized. Blood and ashes, this was the kind of useless task that Wise Ones gave to da’tsang. No wonder Aviendha was so weighted down by shame. But what could the Wise Ones possibly think she’d done to merited being treated as a da’tsang?

Mat approached her and sat down cross-legged in front of her and the buckets. “Hello,” he said.

“What brings you here?” Aviendha said without looking up at him.

“I wanted to talk to you. About this morning,” Mat said, deciding not to comment on her current activity; he didn’t want to shame her further by drawing attention to it. “Why don’t you want to marry Rand and Elayne?”

Aviendha’s mouth tightened ever so slightly. She was upset. “I did not say that I do not want to, but that I cannot at this time,” she said.

“Why can’t you? And why can’t you at this time, as opposed to any other time?”

Aviendha remained silent, and Mat eyed the buckets. All right, maybe he did have to comment on it. He glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot—he didn’t think anyone was, but Aiel had very keen hearing, so he lowered his voice just in case. “Does it have anything to do with why you’re being punished like a da’tsang?”

Aviendha flushed, though he wasn’t sure whether it was in shame or anger. “This is Wise Ones’ business that is no concern of yours.”

“I’m your first-brother. Your concerns are mine. Besides, we always have toh to each other that we can’t repay and won’t try to,” Mat said, remembering Sorilea’s words from their bonding ceremony. “Surely if there’s anyone you could talk to about this, it would be me. We can never be shamed in each other’s eyes.”

Aviendha’s hand stilled over the bucket, and she chewed her lip. Then she said in a rush, “The Wise Ones punish me like a da’tsang because I have incurred great toh, but I do not know what it is I did to incur this toh. I thought it might be because I was disrespectful to Cadsuane Melaidhrin, or because I abandoned my duties that day to run to you and Rand and Elayne when I sensed they were in danger, but Amys said I do not have toh for either. She said that I was courageous to defend members of my clan to one far older than myself, and that I was wise to weigh my conflicting duties against each other and choose the one that was most urgent in that moment. And these punishments began before that anyway.”

Aviendha and Amys considered Mat, Rand, and Elayne to be members of Aviendha’s clan? It was hard to smile when his sister was so upset, but Mat found himself on the brink of it.

“And because I do not know what the toh is for, I cannot begin to meet it properly,” Aviendha finished. “I have lost my honor, Mat.” Her voice cracked a little. “That is why I cannot marry Elayne and Rand. I would dishonor them greatly by presenting them with bridal wreaths now. By coming to them as a woman without honor. They both deserve far better than that.”

This was the most insane thing Mat had ever heard, but he knew how important toh and honor were to Aviendha, so he tried to think about it from her perspective. It certainly explained her behavior this morning…although, his wetlander perspective didn’t quite think it excused it.

“You should’ve explained all this to them. They would’ve understood,” he said. “Instead you just ran out on them and made them think you were angry with them. They were really hurt.”

Aviendha lowered her eyes to her lap, looking pained. “You are right. I have toh to both of them,” she said quietly. “I was so afraid to dishonor myself in their eyes by letting them know of my shame that instead I dishonored them by not trusting them with it.”

Mat took her hand and squeezed it. “Light knows I understand how hard it is to let people see your shame or vulnerabilities, even the people you love and trust most in the world,” he said. “I think we all understand that. But we’re always pushing Rand to tell us the things that are difficult for him to share aloud, so it’d be hypocritical of us not to do the same.”

Aviendha laced her fingers through his. “I am fortunate to have one so wise and courageous for my brother,” she said, and Mat blushed and protested the praise. “I will apologize to Rand and Elayne and explain the truth as soon as I am given leave to return to the palace.”

“Good.” Mat thought back to what she’d been saying a moment ago. “How can you not know what you did to incur toh?” Aviendha’s shame visibly deepened, and Mat hastened to add, “I don’t say that to shame you. I genuinely don’t understand. You’re more conscious of toh than any Aiel I know. You never fail to assign yourself toh for even the smallest of things. So how is it possible that you could have done something so bad that you deserve to be treated as a bloody da’tsang and have no idea what that thing is?” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s possible. If you’d done something that bad, you would definitely know what it was.”

Aviendha frowned. “Then you are saying the Wise Ones are mistaken?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Mat said. “Either mistaken or just tormenting you for the fun of it.”

“Why would they do such a thing?”

“Burn me if I know. You should ask them what under the Light they’re playing at.”

“To ask another what my own toh is for is the most shaming act I could commit!”

“Well, punishing and shaming someone who doesn’t actually have toh must be at least as bad,” Mat said. “Like I said, if you actually did have this much toh, you would know why. They must be up to something.”

Aviendha was silent for a moment, brow deeply furrowed, then said, “Monaelle did once praise me for refusing to follow a command of hers with which I disagreed…so perhaps…”

She trailed off, looking at something over Mat’s shoulder, and he turned to see Amys, Melaine, and Bair approaching. “Why do you sit gossiping with your first-brother, Aviendha?” Bair asked. “Have you finished your tasks already?”

Mat bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to get Aviendha into even more trouble. But Aviendha got to her feet and looked Bair square in the eye. “No, I have not,” she said.

Now Mat felt silly being the only one sitting on the ground, so he scrambled up too. “You are not learning quickly enough,” Amys said in disapproval.

“Not learning quickly enough? I have learned everything you have asked of me!” Aviendha said, and Mat nodded in fierce agreement even though she wasn’t looking at him. “I have memorized every lesson, repeated every fact, performed every duty. I have answered all your questions and have seen you nod in approval at each answer! I can channel better than any Aiel woman alive. I have left behind the spears, and I welcome my place among you. I have done my duty and sought honor on each occasion. Yet you continue to give me punishments! I will have no more of it. Either tell me what it is you wish of me or send me away.”

Rather than being offended or scolding her, the three Wise Ones exchanged a look Mat couldn’t interpret. Aiel were bloody hard to read, except Aviendha, now that he knew her so well. “It is not we who punish you, child,” Amys said. “These punishments come by your own hand.” What in the Pit of Doom was that supposed to mean?

Aviendha glanced at Mat, then looked back at the Wise Ones and lifted her chin in a manner reminiscent of Elayne. “Whatever I have done, I cannot see that it would have you make me da’tsang,” she said. “You shame yourselves by treating me so.” Mat smiled as he realized Aviendha was echoing what he’d told her. Had he actually managed to stumble into a correct analysis of ji’e’toh? He couldn’t wait to rub that in Rand’s face.

“Are you rejecting our punishments?” Melaine asked.

“Yes. I am.”

“You think your stakes as strong as ours, do you?” Bair said, face still impossible to read. “You presume to be our equal?”

Aviendha hesitated. Not a muscle moved in her face, but panic was clear in her eyes. Come on, Mat thought. Don’t back down now. You can do it, sister. You are their equal.

Without once glancing at Mat for encouragement this time, Aviendha squared her shoulders and said, “I see no more reason to study. If these punishments are all you have left to teach me, then I must assume that I have learned all that I must. I am ready to join you.”

Mat laughed, then quickly stifled it when four pairs of eyes swiveled towards him. But then, to his amazement, Bair and Melaine and Amys started laughing too.

“Come, sister,” Amys said—to Aviendha. Sister? Were they saying she was one of them now? A Wise One, not an apprentice? “There are things we must tell you away from Mat Cauthon’s ears.”

Looking perplexed, Aviendha followed them into a nearby tent. Mat resisted the urge to sneak over and eavesdrop; that might shame Aviendha, since he was her first-brother and carried her honor. He had no desire to know about secret Wise One business, though—he only hoped that Aviendha wasn’t in trouble. The Wise Ones hadn’t acted like she was, laughing like that and calling her sister, but you never knew with them.

Just as Mat was starting to wonder if he should go back to the palace and catch up with Aviendha later, she emerged from the tent. Bair and Melaine went off in another direction, but Amys followed Aviendha over towards Mat.

“I must go to Rhuidean,” Aviendha told him. “I am leaving now, through a gateway, and I do not have the time to find our partners and let them know. Will you do so for me?”

“Of course,” Mat said, startled. Rhuidean? Ah, so she was becoming a full Wise One. He smiled. “Congratulations, darya. When will you return?”

“As soon as I am able.” Aviendha hesitated. “Amys, may I be permitted—” She stopped, then amended, “Amys, I will have a brief private word with my brother. I will meet you at the Traveling ground in a moment.”

Amys chuckled, looking proud, and left without any fuss or objections whatsoever. Huh. They really did see Aviendha as an equal now. About bloody time.

“There is one other thing I would like to do while I am in the Three-fold Land,” Aviendha said. “But only if you wish it also.”

She looked both nervous and excited, Mat noticed with some curiosity. “What is it?”

Mat reported everything to Rand and Elayne that night. They weren’t surprised to hear that Aviendha had gone to the Waste—they’d both felt in the bond that she’d Traveled very far to the east—but were thrilled that the reason was because she was becoming a full Wise One, and not that the other Wise Ones had just sent her on an errand. Or that she’d fled to avoid the two of them.

They were also relieved by the explanation of why Aviendha had been upset by the thought of marrying them that morning. “Do you think she’s changed her mind now that she knows she hasn’t lost her honor?” Rand said hopefully. “Do you think she’ll want to marry us when she returns?”

Mat stifled a smile and shrugged. “Don’t know. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

“Do you want to marry us, Mat?” Elayne asked. “We never did properly discuss it this morning. I would very much like to marry all three of you.”

“As would I,” Rand said, and Elayne beamed and kissed his cheek.

Was Mat allowed to answer this without his first-sister present? Well, he decided, it wasn’t as if he was laying bridal wreaths at their feet without Aviendha, only answering a question. A question that was part of a discussion, not an official proposal. And he’d already told Rand how he felt about this anyway.

“I do,” he said, smiling. “I love you both, and I want to marry you. I want to be your husband.” He laughed. “Light! Those are words I never would’ve thought I’d say, once.”

Mat had never imagined himself wanting to be someone’s husband. But he understood what it felt like now, he thought, gaze landing on the perfectly-preserved lily among Elayne’s flower collection. He understood what devotion felt like now. And he even understood what it felt like to want to give somebody stupid flowers with sappy meanings that confirmed that devotion.

Rand and Elayne laughed too, both bonds overflowing with joy as they took turns kissing him and each other. Mat felt joyful himself, so joyful he was nearly giddy with it. It reminded him of how he’d felt that day in Tear when the three of them had first gotten together, when he hadn’t been able to believe his luck that not only did both the people he loved love him back, but they also didn’t mind that he loved the other because they loved each other too.

This was the first time since then that it had been just the three of them; even in the first few days in Cairhien before Aviendha had officially joined the relationship, she’d still been nearby. In Tear Mat wouldn’t have expected to ever want or need anything but the three of them, but now, it felt like something was missing, with Aviendha so far away. But she would return soon, and Mat and Rand would return from Arad Doman, and then…

Then.

Mat smiled wider, then leaned back in to kiss Rand with more heat and start undoing the buttons on Elayne’s dress. He couldn’t wait for then, but for tonight, he was going to make the most of now.

The next morning, Mat and Rand went to find Olver to say goodbye before they left. They would only be in Arad Doman a few weeks, Light willing, but Mat was dreading the moment of parting, with Olver and with Elayne. It seemed like they were saying goodbye these days more often than hello. But they would all be together again soon.

Olver was playing stones with Juilin, but he jumped up from the game and ran over to hug Mat and Rand together. “How long will you be gone?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. Hopefully not long.” Mat kissed his cheek. “In the meantime, be good for Thom and Juilin and Elayne.”

“He always is,” Thom said, and Olver swelled with pride.

Chuckling, Mat looked over at Thom and saw that he was in an armchair by the fire, tucking a letter back into his pocket. A familiar letter, with a broken seal of blue wax. Rand had given it to Mat to deliver to Thom in Salidar, but Mat had done so hastily and then been too caught up in reuniting with Elayne and telling her about Aviendha and Rand’s new romantic situation to think of asking Thom what it had said, and since then he’d forgotten its existence.

“That’s that letter from Moiraine,” Mat said, and Thom nodded. “What did she want to write to you about anyway?”