Chapter Text
The hour grew late. He wished he had gone to bed hours ago. He could have been occupying an actual, mattress-topped bed. It would have likely been straw filled, but the thought was becoming more and more appealing nonetheless. He played on.
The pads of his fingers burned as they slid along the frets, while his other hand plucked the guitar strings. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a large mirror a servant carried past. His beard was in dire need of trimming, and as for his hair… He supposed he could still call it silver-streaked, if only by poetic license.
The common room was nearly empty. Even the most dedicated had long departed for their lodgings. His fingers danced along the strings, while his foot tapped a gentle rhythm. It was a quiet song, suited for small company. He had only written it that morning. The lyrics were in High Chant, of course, though he deemed them too risky at the moment. The Aes Sedai would have known what he was instantly.
Thom watched as Moiraine squared her shoulders well before the door opened. What a strange thing the bond must be, he mused. He told himself he was only collecting information. That his interest had nothing to do with the look in her eyes. Or her eyes, full stop.
The Warder found his way between tables, stopping a few paces behind his Aes Sedai. The expression on her face did not change, but she tightened her fingers around her tankard. Lan’s eyes narrowed, falling on Thom with disapproval.
Thom scowled before catching himself. Burn the man. Any fool would have known that she had not taken a sip of that ale. Or anything at all that he had noticed. Not that it was his job to watch.
It was said that the eyes were a trapdoor to the soul, if ancient stories were to be believed. He had long dismissed the notion as absurd. Even in Caemlyn, where they played Daes Dae’mar only half-heartedly, everyone knew how to project.
Oh, burn it all. He stilled his hands, cutting off the song. He grabbed the guitar case and headed for her table, his stride sure and purposeful.
Unsurprisingly, by the time he was within ten paces, the Warder had already slid onto the bench, pushing her into a shadowed corner.
“Merrilin,” Lan said gruffly.
He nodded and looked at Moiraine. She blinked, and then tilted her head to one side, considering. After what felt like an eternity, she pushed her tankard across the table.
He sat down and lifted it to his lips. It tasted worse than pig swill, but he drained it. Lan’s expression darkened, but Thom found that he didn’t care. If tonight ended with him looking for a tooth behind the stables, he was sure he would not regret it.
“A word?” He kept his eyes on Moiraine’s face, his fingers wrapped around her tankard.
She briefly closed her eyes and half-turned to Lan. No words were exchanged. In a moment, Lan strode toward the farthest corner of the room.
Moiraine leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Light, she looked tired. Thom cleared his throat.
“Did you wish something of me?” Her voice was soft. “Healing perhaps?”
“What? No.” Thom was suddenly aware of the pain in his back. He ignored it.
She leaned back, her face falling into shadow. “What is it?”
He pulled a pipe out of his pocket.
“You danced tonight.” He said.
“So did everyone else.” She responded after a brief pause.
“Everyone else did not obliterate a…” he glanced around before dropping his voice down to a whisper, “ a Trolloc horde. Or call down a storm. Or take on everyone’s exhaustion.”
“Not yours.”
Did she smile? He couldn’t quite see, but her voice sure sounded like it.
“Did Lan put you up to this?” This time he was sure she was amused.
There was an overly loud snort from the other end of the room. If she was bonded to him, he would never leave her in the company of a man such as himself, even for a moment. Bloody ashes. When did he start to feel this way? All his instincts screamed to leave her well alone. She was an Aes Sedai, for Light’s sake. Not to mention…
“Thom?” She leaned forward, and he could see her eyes, clearly this time. “Where did you go?”
He looked at her, really looked at her. Before, in the Two Rivers, she had seemed all-powerful, larger than life. He had been around Aes Sedai before, more than he would have liked. There was something about Moiraine. She reminded him of a warrior queen from ancient ballads. The kind that made men fall to their knees and offer up their souls, for her to use as she saw fit.
Now though… She looked as delicate as Atha'an Miere porcelain.. Her hands, with which she had commanded Fire and Earth, were just… hands. The contrast made his heart clench.
“I…” For the first time in decades, he opened his mouth without a fully rehearsed, perfect speech.
“It’s all right.”
She tilted her head from side to side, stretching what were obviously sore muscles. An Aes Sedai would never show weakness. Not unless she had good reason. Did she trust him? Or was it a carefully planned move?
He took a deep breath. The words were right there. He didn’t need to dress them up. “It was me. I killed Taringail.”
His heart was thundering in his chest. In a second, she would get up and leave, and he would never have another moment with her, not even overseen by her mountain of a Warder.
Their eyes met. Hers, suddenly so young. He wondered what she saw on his face, realizing that he had long dropped his mask.
“I know.” Her eyes misted before she looked away.
“You… know?”
He had been so careful. Taringail’s demise had been meticulously crafted, the hunting accident so mundane, so real. Even Morgase had not known. He had gone to great lengths to keep it that way.
“I’m sorry.” What more could he say? Not in a million years did he expect to run into Taringail’s sister. Or be having this conversation with her.
She was looking down at her hands, spinning the serpent ring around her finger. He noted how loose it had become. Wasn’t it her Warder’s job to make sure she ate? He made himself look down into the empty tankard.
“Is it wrong to wish you had done it sooner?”
The part of him that was Gray Fox, the spy, the Daes Dae'mar master, demanded he take notes, ask careful questions. What she had just given him was worth so much more than what he told her. Why, he could…
She reached out and touched his hand, just briefly. Her fingertips were cold. “Thank you.”