Chapter Text
“Come on.” Lan wrapped an arm around her waist and all but lifted her out of the chair. “You have to sleep.”
“I don’t feel tired.” Moiraine’s bond flared as she sailed that one past the First Oath.
She stepped out of his reach and turned back to the table, inadvertently tipping over a stack of books. They spilled to the ground and Lan bent down to retrieve them. She grabbed the books from his hands, clutching them to her chest.
“Moiraine?” She had been out of sorts for most of the day. Now, though, he began to worry.
He watched her rearrange the books, feeling the phantom discomfort in his fingers. She had been writing since dawn. Her back and shoulders ached, making him want to stretch.
“This way.” He took her by the hand, steering her a little more firmly away from the books.
“Where are we going?” She demanded, before her voice suddenly turned suggestive. “Two more hours. I will make it worth your while.”
He felt his body begin to respond, remembering the way her skin felt under his fingertips, but managed to get himself under control. As much as the idea appealed, it was not the time. She needed rest. He huffed and sent a gentle chastisement across the bond.
She glared at him before growing serious.“Anything?”
He shook his head. The townspeople, while relatively accepting, had proven to be difficult to pump for information. He had spent his evening in the common room, an ale in hand, listening to conversation, laughing at their jokes. Either there was little worth learning, or they were better at concealment than Moiraine had given them credit for.
“You?” He already knew that she had not made significant progress, the bond relaying her disappointment and sadness. Talking sometimes helped coax her out of the gloom.
“It’s not fair.” She told the floor, hair obscuring her face. The bond was all over the place, nearly giddy one moment and swallowed up by waves of despair the next.
He crossed over to her, gently lifting her chin to find her eyes glistening with tears.
She sniffed and took a few steps back, bumping into books again. By some miracle the stack remained upright. She turned and picked one up, opening it to flip through pages.
“There!” She poked an accusing finger at what the bond considered to be a particularly offending passage. “You see that?”
He strained to read the text, which was mostly obscured from view before she flipped to another page.
“Natural forces! Free will!” She was fuming.
He tilted his head, listening.
“The Wheel, Lan!” She snapped the book closed and drew her hand back as if to throw it across the room before catching herself and gently patting the cover.
“We have been looking for the Dragon Reborn for years. Do you know what just occurred to me?” She placed the book on the table with the same care a collector would lavish on a piece of precious porcelain.
He remained silent, knowing from experience that it was better to ride it out.
“I finally realized that nothing we do matters. Nothing at all!”
She began to pace, turning sharp corners to avoid bumping into furniture. He stepped out of her way, discreetly placing his back against the door.
“We can cross the entire world more times than we can count. It will make no difference what we do. The Pattern will make sure of it.”
“Moiraine?” He was confused and worried.
“And then one day…” She sniffed. “Mandarb could throw a shoe, smacking the Dragon right on the nose.”
She stopped in the middle of the room, the bond roiling.
“Mandarb.” She wiped her eyes.
Realization hit him hard.
“Light, Moiraine!” He went to her and crushed her in his embrace. “It was just one ale. I didn’t even finish it.”
She brought her hands up to his face. “Do you know what happiness is?”
He smiled and kissed the top of her head.
The bond conveyed a slight spark of interest, but Light, she was exhausted. And emotional. He really shouldn’t have had that ale.
“It’s like…” She paused, searching for the right word. “It’s like a wild bird. If you try to keep it in a cage, it will die. If you let it go…” She mimed a bird flying away. “That doesn’t work either.”
He trailed a hand along her spine, lightly scratching the back of her neck before moving up to her scalp. She leaned into it, but remained undeterred.
“People like me. We shouldn’t get to be happy.” She frowned and pressed her lips into a thin line.
She was looking up at him, open and vulnerable. He relished moments like this, even if they came with heartache.
“I see.” He racked his brain for a way to redirect her. Before she launched into an hour-long lecture on the nature of the Pattern and principles that governed the Wheel, to say nothing of the many reasons why she should not be allowed even a moment of happiness. “I know exactly what I would do.”
She peered at him, eyes luminous.
“Your wild bird, I mean.” He lifted a strand of her hair and twirled it before placing it behind her ear. “I would set it free, not break its wings.”
“Then you would lose it.”
He smiled. “Just think about how much better it would be the next time it crossed my path.”
“Sounds like Borderlander poetry.”
He ran his fingers through her hair. “Let me take care of you.”
She raised an eyebrow but managed to give him a small, strained smile. Her shoulders hunched just a little.
“Not like that.” He assured her and felt her relax in his arms. “How about a back rub?”
She nodded, allowing him to lead her to the bed. He smiled as she slipped the robe off her shoulders and settled down on her stomach, with her arms resting by her sides. He reached into a small case by the bed and selected a vial. Using oils had been enjoyable to them both. Tonight he thought she might like sandalwood.
He tipped a small amount of oil into his palm and rubbed his hands together, warming it. She flexed her fingers, and he heard her inhale.
“Good choice?” He leaned forward and rubbed a small drop behind each of her ears.
“Hmhmmm.” She pressed her forehead into the pillow in an approximation of a nod.
Cradling her head, he stretched her neck to one side and then the other, releasing tension points. Eventually, the knots began to loosen. He moved to her shoulders, giving her just the right amount of pressure, a good kind of hurt, as she called it.
“That one.” She murmured.
He pressed a small kiss to the spot just below her left shoulder blade before using some of his weight to help loosen a particularly stubborn knot.
He couldn’t resist running his fingers down her sides, lightly tickling her ribs. Light, it felt so satisfying to get a giggle out of her. The prim and proper Lady Moiraine Damodred Aes Sedai, making such undignified sounds.
“Lan!” She exclaimed, trying to lift herself off the bed and roll over.
“Fine, fine, I won’t do that anymore,” he grinned, “this time.”
She huffed, but settled down again and rolled her shoulders with a satisfied sigh.
“How does that feel?” He asked and rose from the bed after finishing the deep muscle massage of her entire back.
“Just right.” She sounded and felt more relaxed than she’d been in days. She rolled over and sat at the edge of the bed, picking up a glass of water he poured earlier. “Thank you.”
“Honor to serve.”
Her face lit up as he reached for fastenings on his tunic. He couldn’t keep a smirk off his face while he removed it along with the rest of his clothing. All these years, and she still watched him undress with the same sparkle in her eyes.
“Ready for sleep?” He asked, his voice gentle, sending comfort and assurance through the bond.
“Please.” Her voice was barely audible. “I really am tired.”
“I know.”
He took her empty glass and placed it on the bedside table while she got back in bed, facing away from him and cradling the biggest pillow he could find. They would have to leave it behind, he thought with a pang. At least she could have it while they were here. He fitted himself behind her, bringing his knees up to line up with hers and resting an arm around her waist.
“Like this.” She looked at him over her shoulder and reached down to pull his arm up across her chest.
“Yes,” he agreed and pressed in as close as he could. “Rest now.”