Work Text:
“From here on out, I row beside you.”
The woman before her looks like Moiraine. She sounds like Moiraine. The curve of her cheek beneath Siuan’s palm feels like Moiraine; that soft, almost porcelain skin she dreams of kissing nightly. But though Siuan doesn’t want to admit it—can’t admit it—there is a wrongness to her.
She can touch Moiraine, she can hold Moiraine, but she can’t sense her. There is none of the silvery glow that usually coats the other woman like a second skin, power thrumming through her and spiking up Siuan’s spine. There is only silence between them, more than just words unspoken.
Moiraine scoffs softly, dismissive in a way she has never directed at Siuan, and arches her neck away from the touch. But if her lover ebbs like the tide, Siuan will wait for her to flow back once more. Never letting her hand leave Moiraine’s face, Siuan follows (she will always follow, the light help her), and drags her thumb gently across Moiraine’s cheekbone, more prominent than six months ago. Another soft, coaxing stroke, and the clenched, fluttering muscles of Moiraine’s jaw begin to relax. Moiraine’s eyebrows raise slightly, a furrow between them that Siuan would give anything to kiss away.
“It’s time I met Rand al’Thor,” Siuan says—not a request but an order—and lets her hand drop away from the stubborn jut of Moiraine’s chin.
The look Moiraine gives her is shuttered and unreadable. Siuan long ago learned how to pick apart Moiraine’s Aes Sedai face and see beneath the composed, icy facade, brushing against it for hairline fractures known only to her. But this is something different and try as she may, Siuan can no longer find a way in. She turns away before her own composure can crack.
“When you leave, tell Leane I need to speak with her,” Siuan says on a sigh, the dismissal obvious and curt. It burns in her throat. Siuan waits for Moiraine’s footsteps to sound but the light clip of her soft steps never comes.
“Who said I was leaving?” Moiraine speaks, finally. Her voice is soft and hoarse but no less obstinate.
“You always do.” Siuan doesn’t need to look to know how the blow lands or how Moiraine flinches at the words.
Moiraine’s footsteps do echo through the cavernous room now, but not toward the door. She stops mere inches from Siuan, and Siuan thinks that if either of them were to take a deep breath, her back would brush Moiraine’s front. She holds her breath until her lungs ache.
“And you were the one who sent me away.” The words tickle Siuan’s neck and lick at her like fire. How dare she. How dare she accuse Siuan of that when she would give anything to keep Moiraine near, to expertly knot the threads of their lives together, caught inextricably in a tangled net with no want or need for escape.
Before she can respond, Moiraine’s cool palm replaces the sting creeping along Siuan’s throat, and she asks again, “Why are you here Siuan?” There is still an accusation in the question, but this time Moiraine is close enough that her lips graze Siuan’s ear as she speaks.
Like a line that’s pulled too taut, Siuan snaps.
“For you, you bloody idiot,” Siuan nearly growls, spinning back around. If the sudden movement surprises Moiraine, she doesn’t show it. Moiraine gives a small shake of her head and their noses just barely brush.
“I don’t believe that,” Moiraine says and her lips are so close—
Siuan doesn’t know if she wants to grab the woman before her by the shoulders and shake her or kiss her senseless. Luckily, Moiraine makes the choice for her, returning her hand to the back of Siuan’s neck, fingers digging into the base of her skull, and pulls Siuan forward until their lips meet. It is not a gentle kiss. Truthfully, it is barely a kiss and more a hungry, desperate press of mouths and teeth.
Moiraine’s eyes are open and her irises ignite, the same blue of the heart of a flame and twice as likely to scorch Siuan’s skin, leaving her blistered and raw. But when Siuan grabs her by the waist (her too-small waist, even under the layers of regal attire) and presses their bodies tightly together, Moiraine’s eyes slam shut and she lets out a soft whimper.
Finally gaining the upper hand, Siuan speaks against Moiraine’s lips, forcing the words down the keening woman’s throat. “I came here for you. Do you have any idea what it was like to find Lan outside my carriage in the middle of the night with you nowhere to be found? To see fear in his eyes—in Lan’s eyes?”
Moiraine runs her tongue along Siuan’s lips, begging for entrance, and it’s a cheap trick but Siuan lets her get away with it anyway. “I thought you were dead,” Siuan continues, though the words are nearly unintelligible through the kiss. “I thought you were dead for the second time in six fucking months.”
Their mouths stutter and slow against each other as though Siuan’s confession consists of sticky molasses. They part with heavy panting and Siuan presses her forehead to Moiraine’s.
“Burn the dragon, burn the world, burn this light-forsaken prophecy. You are what matters to me, Moiraine. And we have spent too long punishing ourselves for it.”
Siuan opens her eyes to find slow, salty rivulets falling down Moiraine’s cheeks, her eyelashes damp and dark against the purple circles beneath her eyes.
“I’ll send Leane in,” Moiraine says and doesn’t open her eyes until her back is to Siuan.
***
Only hours later, Siuan watches her walk away once more, Moiraine’s silhouette set ablaze by the glowing waygate.
“Moiraine, please…” Siuan can speak no louder than a whisper, but Moiraine hears her anyway, steps faltering and her face a shattered wreck. Siuan isn’t sure what she’s asking for, only that she needs to say her name one last time, reaching for the buzzing power of Moiraine on her lips.
Moiraine walks away, disappearing into the gaping maw of the Ways, and Siuan can feel her again, a soft and familiar tingling all she leaves behind.