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Once friends, now estranged; she’s a red, she chose blue.
To escape her sisters’ curiosity, Liandrin lies. To others and herself; to spare her wounded pride, to appease their concerns — the love that once was no longer is, the red Ajah, now her sole allegiance.
She’ll mourn in secret the loss of love until it is but a distant memory.
The wheel keeps turning and her grief remains a burden. Shameful, she dares to wish they could get close again. It cannot be. So she allows herself one more lie — it’s not love she feels for Moiraine; she despises her.
***
There’s no turning back. Nynaeve will be there, waiting with hope and Liandrin will break it. Break her . Ishamael commanded, she obliged. Soon her liberation would come, that’s the comforting tale she tells herself; one worth a betrayal, surely.
It’s the meaning of her life; she doesn’t see the chase is a vain quest. For freedom, she sold lies, to others and herself — falling for her own was her greatest mistake. Liandrin enslaved herself.
“I’m sorry for this.” One truth, a crack in her lies and she can no longer believe. She was always a fool; she sees it now.
***
Liberation comes with Lanfear, yet freedom still slips through her fingers — close enough to taste it, but never hers to keep.
Dancing between lies and half-truths, exhausting game the Tower demanded, none of which is relevant with Lanfear. Liandrin isn’t free — she vowed to serve him, and she still lies to herself pretending she swore herself to her , but she needn’t lie to the forsaken.
The weight of secrets is lifted from her shoulders, abruptly, for Lanfear’s entertainment only, but Liandrin soon finds solace in the situation. And willingly, she surrenders. With Lanfear at last, she’s free to be true.
***
Vows she foolishly believed would free her have only enslaved her with tighter chains. She has condemned herself to a fate she helplessly accepts. Trapped by her own failures. Trapped in the games of pawns who behave like masters.
And trapped she is, in thick cobwebs channelled with the one power. “It’ll be our little secret,” the child-faced woman whispers, “and when she least expects it, you will betray her.”
Caught in a game greater than her, Liandrin finds glimpses of freedom and cherishes them. The betrayal was forced upon her, but Moghedien or Lanfear; the choice belongs to her.