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On the way out of the Waste, Rand spent a great deal of time with Aviendha. The Wise Ones had assigned her as his teacher in Aiel ways, and Rand wouldn’t be surprised if they also wanted her to spy on him, but if that was the case, he didn’t think she was in on it. Aviendha was almost shockingly forthright and blunt—not a deceptive bone in her body.
Her bluntness was difficult to get used to, after months of his life spent revolving around Lanfear.
Looking back on it now that it was over, it was easier to see all the times she’d manipulated him. All the times she’d ensnared him with the things he’d longed to hear from somebody.
In Cairhien, he’d been desperately lonely yet terrified of getting close to anyone. Selene had found the perfect opening, offering casual and therefore safe intimacy to hook him, then reeling the line in gradually by revealing more and more of her heart—the false heart she’d deliberately crafted to appeal to him—until he couldn’t help but fall in love with her.
He’d loved her. And then he’d found out it was all a lie.
But not even that had been able to turn him away from her for good. He’d been angry and hurt and betrayed by the reveal of Lanfear’s true identity, yet still, she’d managed to reel him back in by offering exactly what he’d needed. Understanding and companionship, when he’d felt that nobody around him truly saw him. Acceptance of the whole of him, when Egwene flinched every time he channeled.
A false acceptance. Egwene couldn’t accept the Dragon, but equally, Lanfear couldn’t accept the shepherd. Rand just hadn’t noticed that quickly enough, or cared enough, because the Dragon had been the piece of him most craving acceptance then.
It would be nice to find someone who accepted both. Someone who didn’t fear the Dragon, yet still saw Rand al’Thor underneath.
But that was impossible. Everybody from his old life missed the shepherd and worried about the changes in him, while everybody from his new life demanded that he step up to be the Dragon and forget that he’d once been just a man.
Every day, he saw Egwene’s sorrow over who he was becoming and Moiraine’s pride over the same.
In that sense, Aviendha’s company was a relief. She had her own expectations for him, certainly, but now that she’d grown to tolerate him more, those expectations had loosened somewhat. She had expectations for what he ought to do, but not who he ought to be. Or at least, expecting him to be the Car’a’carn no longer came at the expense of allowing him to be a person.
It used to. In Falme, she’d expected to meet a symbol and had been increasingly frustrated to discover that Rand was only a person. But now, Rand had proven that he was capable of carrying out his duty to the Aiel (he hoped he had), and that was the thing that mattered most to Aviendha, so she’d relented on her other expectations and had come to accept the reality of the man before her.
She challenged him to be better, stronger, wiser, braver. But she didn’t try to change the core of who he was, the way she had at the start. The way Lanfear had, or the way Egwene wanted to.
Aviendha never flinched when he channeled.
When he’d brought a storm to Alcair Dal, he’d looked over at the group of Wise Ones. Egwene had been watching him with fear and suspicion, but Aviendha—she’d been laughing, smiling up at the rain more brightly than he’d ever seen her smile before. Viewing it like a miracle, a blessing, even though it had come from corrupted saidin.
Seeing Aviendha’s face then had made Rand hope, for the first time since finding out what he was, that maybe he could bring some good to the world, instead of only suffering and chaos.
They’d made camp for the evening, so Aviendha was spending the remaining hours before bed in Rand’s tent instructing him, as she did every evening. And most days as well, whenever he had a spare moment in his conversations with the clan chiefs and whenever she had a spare moment in her studies with the Wise Ones.
Tonight’s lesson was about Aiel courtship rituals and marriage customs. A more enjoyable and interesting lesson than some of the others, though Rand’s face felt a little warm throughout, for some reason.
“And so you see, marriage can be a strategic move when necessary, though more usually it is done out of love,” Aviendha concluded, after listing some historical examples of inter-clan feuds ended by a marriage between two of its members.
Two, or three, or more. Rand was still trying to wrap his head around the concept of love and marriage being shared between more than two people. It was a nice idea, even if it made his stomach flutter uncertainly.
Lanfear had turned to the Shadow when Lews Therin had left her for his wife. Would the course of history look different, and brighter, if they had been able to work out an arrangement between all three of them?
But that wouldn’t have even been possible, not unless Lanfear had been an altogether different person. Rand would wager that even as Mierin, her possessiveness and entitlement would have prevented any kind of arrangement from being formed. Joining the Shadow hadn’t replaced her entire personality with a new one; it had only exacerbated the traits that were already there.
He recalled something she’d said once as Selene, about how her former lover had eventually looked too deep within her and hadn’t liked what he’d seen. Rand doubted that falling for a second woman had been the only reason Lews Therin had ended his relationship with Lanfear—she hadn’t been particularly kind or good even before she’d sworn herself to the Dark One.
Rand had wanted so badly to think of her as a helpless, wounded victim, a good person who’d been tempted to the Shadow only because of unfortunate circumstance. Somebody who’d been hurt and taken advantage of by others, through no fault of her own. Somebody he could help, somebody he could save.
But that wasn’t true. She’d chosen. And Lews Therin couldn’t have saved her from her own choices three thousand years ago, nor could Rand today. A lesson he’d finally learned now, though it had taken him too long.
He realized Aviendha was watching him. “What?” he said.
“I was merely curious whether the same is true of wetlander relationships,” she said. “Was it a strategic move to lie with a Shadowsouled?”
Rand flushed bright red. Aviendha had known about his entanglement with Lanfear ever since Cold Rocks Hold, though she’d had the decency not to bring it up to his face until now.
It was so tempting to lie and say yes. So tempting to give an answer that would make her think better of him. But even without ji’e’toh to guide him, Rand would feel ashamed to lie about this.
“No,” he said. “Well, for a time, Moiraine hoped to leverage my connection with her for our own gain. But my initial feelings for her were real, before I knew the truth of who she was, and even once I found out and began to play a game…I lost sight of the game far too quickly and it became real again. I let myself forget what I’d learned about her.”
Aviendha was studying him, her expression unreadable. “Lanfear had time to make a place for herself inside your heart before you knew the truth of her,” she said, “and then Moiraine Damodred pushed you back into her arms, even knowing what she was. Even knowing that she had already learned how to strike at your weak points. She ordered a hare to run back into a snake’s nest.”
“I’m not a hare,” Rand said, affronted, “and none of it was Moiraine’s fault. Besides, even if Moiraine hadn’t gone for that plan and had instead told me to cut off all communication with her, it wouldn’t have been possible. Lanfear could always find me in my dreams.”
Thankfully, after Rand’s final breaking with Lanfear, the Wise Ones had taught him how to guard his dreams against her, so he didn’t have to fear for his life every time he went to sleep. Because she would kill him, now that he’d made it clear he reviled her and would not be pulled back in again.
“So then, you met her and developed feelings for her without knowing that she is one of the Shadowsouled,” Aviendha said, and Rand nodded. “And your continuing connection with her after finding out wasn’t your choice.”
“It was.”
“But she could enter your dreams. You never chose to seek her out, once you knew who she truly was.”
Rand shrugged. “No, I didn’t,” he said. “But every time, after she had sought me out, I never tried to resist her as hard as I should have. It was my choice. I chose to be a fool, and I paid the price. Egwene paid the price.”
Aviendha folded her arms. “I would have thought otherwise when we first met, but now, you do not strike me as a man who would choose to be a fool, the way Mat Cauthon does,” she said, which was an entirely unnecessary dig at Mat, considering he had nothing to do with this conversation. “Lying incurs toh, but only on the part of the liar. The victim of their lies is not to blame for believing them.”
Rand wasn’t sure what she was saying, so he just shrugged again.
“I can see that this situation is more complicated than Egwene al’Vere has assumed,” Aviendha continued. “I will let her know that she must speak with you about it, and perhaps you will be able to reconcile—”
“No,” Rand cut her off. “Light, no. Don’t tell Egwene any of this. Let her move on in peace. It was over between us long before I ever met Lanfear—that was just the final stone that broke the horse’s back.” Aviendha squinted in confusion at the wetlander saying. “There can’t be any reconciliation. And regardless, I’m never going to be involved with anyone ever again.”
“No?” Aviendha said, raising an eyebrow. “Why not? You seem to be handsome to wetlander eyes—Elayne Trakand believes you are. Perhaps it is finished with Egwene al’Vere, but I doubt you would have a shortage of other interested parties.”
Rand was blushing again. “Elayne thinks I’m handsome?” he said; he hadn’t registered any other words after that part.
Aviendha nodded. “She has told me so.”
Rand furrowed his brow, bewildered. “Aren’t the two of you together? Why is she telling you about—about finding other people handsome?” It must have been only a careless, passing remark, not anything that Elayne actually felt any sort of way about.
“We have not agreed upon anything formal. And even if we did, I would not be so simple-minded as to resent the fact that I am not the only person in the entire world whose looks she admires,” Aviendha said, with that familiar touch of derision for wetlander ways of thinking. Rand had come to feel oddly fond of it. “I would be pleased to share the duty of shading her heart with another, should she ever wish it.”
Rand thought of what she’d said upon learning that wetlanders typically didn’t share lovers. Something about it being too much to ask of one person. So then, maybe the thought of Elayne being attracted to other people was a relief for Aviendha, rather than a cause for jealousy. The general concept of it, anyway—Elayne certainly wasn’t actually attracted to Rand, specifically. She barely knew him.
…Why had Aviendha asked if wetlanders shared lovers? Surely she would’ve already learned from Elayne that they rarely did. They’d spent a whole month on the ship exchanging cultural knowledge, and if they’d ever had any sort of romantically-inclined conversations, Rand couldn’t imagine that particular difference between Aiel and wetlander ways wouldn’t have come up.
Why had she asked, when she likely already knew? Why had she asked him? Why had she wanted to know his answer to that question?
Rand cleared his throat and tried to remember what they were in the middle of talking about. “It’s nothing to do with—with not having options, although that is also a factor, seeing as nobody in their right mind would choose to be involved with the Dragon Reborn,” he said, and Aviendha rolled her eyes. “But the main reason I won’t ever pursue anyone else again is because I’m choosing not to. Because loving someone would only endanger them, whether by making them a target for my enemies or by ensuring they’ll be the first one I hurt when I go mad.”
Aviendha laughed. “You are a very great fool, Rand al’Thor,” she said, and she uncrossed her legs to crawl towards the tent entrance. “Sleep well and wake.”
“Sleep well and wake,” Rand echoed, feeling utterly mystified, as he often did after conversations with Aviendha.
It was wonderful to reunite with Mat and Nynaeve and Elayne in Tear, along with Min, the bartender from Fal Dara, and Thom Merrilin, the gleeman Rand had thought dead at the hands of a Fade. More wonderful still was the fact that Elayne immediately took it upon herself to resume the lessons in politics she’d been giving Rand on the ship back from Falme.
He didn’t know why he enjoyed her lessons so much, compared to Moiraine’s. Perhaps only because Elayne was a more agreeable and patient teacher.
Or perhaps because Elayne encouraged him to reflect on his life in the Two Rivers and bring that past with him into his new role as the Dragon Reborn, whereas Moiraine seemed intent on him fully severing his past from his present.
His lessons with Aviendha were reduced because of his new duties in Tear, and he was startled by how much he missed spending hours a day with her. He hadn’t realized that he’d begun looking forward to their evening lessons until he found himself spending evenings in a grand bedchamber alone rather than a small tent with her.
But he got to spend his afternoons with Elayne in his sitting room, and that was a new thing to look forward to every day. And Aviendha did sit on their lessons when she could, probably because she was eager to spend every moment possible with Elayne.
Things seemed to be going well there. Rand didn’t know details—it wasn’t his business to ask—but it was clear that they were on very warm terms with each other.
It wasn’t his business to ask, but one afternoon when Aviendha was off with the Wise Ones and he was alone with Elayne, he couldn’t help but do so. “Back in the Waste, Aviendha mentioned that the two of you hadn’t…‘agreed upon anything formal’, was how she put it,” he said. “Has that changed?”
Elayne smiled, and Rand’s eyes flicked down to her dimple. “It has,” she said. “We’re together now, formally.”
Rand smiled too. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Elayne took a sip of her tea. “She’s been bringing me up to date on your love life,” she said.
Rand winced. “Then you know about Lanfear,” he said. No point trying to hide it; Elayne certainly would have already been told, so Rand lying about it would do nothing but make her lose respect for him.
“I do,” Elayne said, but she seemed more curious than judgmental. “Two different versions, one from Aviendha and one from Egwene. While I understand why Egwene views the situation as she does, I got the sense that Aviendha’s version was the more accurate one.”
Rand sighed. “The fact of it is that I got willingly tangled up with a Forsaken, and I’m sure both versions agree on that,” he said. “Do the details matter?”
“They do to me,” Elayne replied. “For example, ‘willingly’ is different between the two. Aviendha says that Lanfear began your acquaintance with deceit and you didn’t know who she was until after you’d already come to care for her. Is that true?”
“Yes,” Rand admitted.
“How did it all come about, initially?”
“She disguised herself as my innkeeper in Cairhien, when I was hiding there after the Eye of the World,” Rand said. “Selene was her name. Selene was…kind, and warm, and beautiful. She made me feel like I belonged somewhere, even while I was trying to disappear from the world to protect everyone I loved. But it was naïve of me to think that I could let go of being the Dragon Reborn. Naïve to trust a stranger so blindly.”
Elayne looked sad, for some reason. “It’s never naïve to want companionship, or to trust that kindness is genuine,” she said. “She took advantage of your good heart, and your loneliness. That doesn’t say anything bad about you, only about her.”
“A leader must be very sparing with their trust,” Rand said. “That’s what Moiraine always says.”
“But you weren’t a leader then. Only a boy very far from home and all alone and frightened,” Elayne said, and Rand shook his head in protest. She was making him sound like a child, but he’d been twenty then—far past old enough to know better.
“And I don’t know if I agree with Moiraine anyway,” Elayne continued. “My mother’s said similar things, on occasions when I fell for pretenses of friendship from people who only wanted to use me, but I believe that a good leader must be willing to trust. Not to the point of foolishness, certainly—it is naïve to expect the rest of the world to always be truthful and good. But go too far in the other direction, and you will become paranoid and coldhearted and manipulative yourself. Your leadership will be weaker if you refuse to trust others, because you’ll have no one to rely on.”
Rand mulled that over. “I suppose that’s true,” he said. “And I don’t hesitate to rely on people in a more…in a more distant capacity. Like relying on the Aiel to fight with me in the battle for the Stone. But it was foolish to rely on a stranger so intimately. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Elayne took his hand and clasped it firmly in her own. “How much more plainly can I say it? It isn’t your fault that one of the Shadow’s most ancient and powerful servants lied to you and manipulated you,” she said, in a voice as firm as her grasp.
Rand’s throat felt strangely tight. “All right, then, let’s say that falling for her once wasn’t my fault,” he said. “Falling for her twice definitely was. I should’ve known better. And I hurt Egwene because of it.”
Elayne gave a thoughtful nod. “You should have told Egwene the truth from the start, so that she could have been on her guard against Lanfear and wouldn’t have been blindsided to learn of your past with her,” she agreed, and that felt better than if she’d refused to acknowledge any wrongdoing on Rand’s part. “But if you were hesitant to do so because you didn’t want to burden her further after what she went through with the Seanchan, I would understand. If you were afraid to do so because you felt ashamed and didn’t know how to talk about it, I would understand.”
“I did feel ashamed,” Rand whispered, eyes stinging. “Every night, she came to me in my dreams, and I felt so ashamed of how badly I wanted what we had to have been real.”
Elayne tugged him closer to wrap her arms around him in a hug, and Rand leaned into her and rested his forehead on her shoulder, taking in deep, shaky breaths. He didn’t quite cry—he’d never cried about anything that had happened with Lanfear, with Selene. It would feel wrong to mourn a relationship with a Forsaken that had never even been real. It would be absurd and selfish to pay any mind to his own suffering in the situation, when Egwene’s had been astronomically worse.
But the truth was, between her and Lanfear, his heart had broken countless times.
First when Egwene had left him behind and chosen a different path than the one Rand had thought they would walk together.
Second when he’d had to do the same and let her go in order to accept his duty as the Dragon Reborn.
Third when he’d grown closer and closer to Selene and known she would never see him as anything more than a way to pass the time, a pale substitute for her former lover.
Fourth when he’d found out that Selene was Lanfear and that none of it had been real.
Fifth when he’d seen how badly Egwene had suffered because he’d left her behind and tried to start a new life, and when he’d had to let her cling to him for comfort even though he knew their relationship was long over and it would be kinder to end things firmly, because it was his fault she needed comfort in the first place.
Sixth when he’d let himself hope Lanfear could be saved, only to discover she’d been torturing Egwene in her dreams the whole time she’d been playing the victim in Rand’s.
Seventh when he’d realized that Egwene thought so little of him that she believed he’d known what Lanfear was doing and hadn’t cared.
Eighth when he’d acknowledged she’d been right to think so little of him.
But right now, letting Elayne hold him, letting himself finally feel the weight of all these heartbreaks—it began to patch over the raw wound inside him that he’d been ignoring so studiously, he hadn’t even realized it was still there.
Once he felt steadier, he pulled back from the hug and sat up straight, wiping his eyes. Elayne was watching him with a depth of kindness and sympathy that he didn’t deserve. But Light, it felt good to have it.
“If I found out right now that Aviendha was a Forsaken in disguise, it would break me,” Elayne said. “I can’t blame you for having a difficult time letting go of your feelings and reconciling them with that horrible truth. Not at all.”
Rand felt exhausted and drained, all of a sudden, and he couldn’t come up with anything else to say. So he just gave her a small, grateful smile, and she smiled back.
Their gambit against Rahvin had worked. Rand and Elayne had killed him using balefire, and that had unwoven enough of his life from the Pattern that Aviendha was alive again, standing tall and strong in the same spot they’d found her corpse in fifteen minutes ago.
Rand hung back and watched Elayne reunite with her, throwing her arms around her and weeping and pressing kisses all over her face. Aviendha seemed confused by the behavior—she likely didn’t know exactly what had happened—but not displeased. Rand could see her smiling, in that way Elayne always brought out of her.
It was wonderful to see them both safe, and so happy in each other’s arms. But at the same time, Rand was overtaken by a sharp ache of longing.
He wanted to be part of a love like that.
To be part of that love.
He’d finally realized it today, almost losing Elayne and actually losing Aviendha. He loved both of them.
But he’d sworn he would never pursue romance again, and he meant it. Loving someone meant hurting them, like he’d hurt Egwene.
Loving someone meant giving them the opportunity to hurt him, like Lanfear had hurt him.
Rand stared. He couldn’t believe his ears. “You love me,” he said slowly. “Both of you?”
“That is what we said,” Aviendha said. “Do your ears not function properly, Rand al’Thor?”
Elayne elbowed her. “We completely understand if you’re not interested, and if that’s so, then we’ll speak no more of it,” she said. “But we wanted to let you know, just—just in case there was any chance of reciprocation.”
A chance of reciprocation? How could they not know this was the best thing that had happened to him since he’d first left home?
But he couldn’t have it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself have this.
He was too afraid to let himself have this.
“I can’t,” Rand said, heart aching with both yearning and fear. “Aviendha, you remember I told you that I can’t be involved with anyone ever again.”
“I remember,” Aviendha said. “But I had hoped you might have let go of that foolishness by now.”
“If you’re worried about putting us in danger, you needn’t be,” Elayne said stubbornly. “We can both look after ourselves. And we would keep things discreet, to prevent the Shadow from finding out that you care for us.” She bit her lip, looking uncertain and nervous. “If you do?”
Tell them you don’t. You have to tell them you don’t. “I do,” Rand admitted. “I do. I love you both. I want—” He took a shaky breath. “But I’m scared.”
Broad smiles had broken out on both Elayne’s and Aviendha’s faces at the confession, and now they were moving closer to him. “We can both look after ourselves,” Aviendha echoed, pressing two fingers to his cheek. “You do not need to fear for us.”
“It’s not only for you,” Rand said. “I’m…” His voice quivered. “I’m scared.”
Elayne took his hand and squeezed it, her eyes soft. “I’m nothing like Lanfear, and nor is Aviendha,” she said. “I swear to you on the Light and my hope of salvation and rebirth, I will never hurt you the way she did.”
Aviendha gave a fierce nod. “I swear the same.”
Rand closed his eyes, feeling a few tears slip out. He should push them away, but he couldn’t bear to. He wanted this so badly. He wanted their love, and he wanted to give them his.
He had so much love to give. That had been the problem with Lanfear. He’d loved her without meaning to, because loving someone came as naturally to him as breathing.
But with Elayne and Aviendha…with them, it wasn’t a problem. Because there was no doubt that he could trust them with his heart.
He opened his eyes again. “I love you,” he said, looking from one to the other. “I—I want to be with you. If you’ll have me.”
Elayne beamed at him. “Of course we will!”
“Why would we have come to you and declared ourselves if we did not wish to have you?” Aviendha said exasperatedly, and Rand laughed and leaned in to kiss her.
Once they’d paused for air, Elayne turned his face towards her so that she could kiss him too. On it went for Light knew how long, kisses exchanged over and over between all three of them.
His first kiss with Egwene had been clumsy and tender. His first kiss with Selene had been meaningless fun. His first kisses with Aviendha and Elayne were a turning to a new, blank page. A fresh start.
Eventually they wound up in Elayne’s massive bed, but then, Rand started to hesitate. Aviendha noticed it first—her keen Aiel senses were attuned to even the slightest change in body language—and she took Elayne’s wrist to stop her from undoing the next button on his shirt.
“We need not go any further if you do not wish it,” Aviendha said.
Elayne nodded, leaning up to give Rand a peck on the cheek. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, my heart,” she said, and Rand’s stomach swooped in delight at the endearment.
It had been a long time since sex had been…just good, for him. Not since before Bel Tine, before Egwene had told him she wanted to become Nynaeve’s apprentice. The night he’d spent with her in Fal Dara, it had been a goodbye, one last indulgence before he went off to what he’d thought would be his death.
With Selene, it had been a casual arrangement to entertain her in exchange for a place to stay. A way to help her remember her past lover as he tried to forget his, while it grew increasingly painful and difficult to keep having sex with her knowing that she didn’t care anywhere near as much about him as he did about her.
Then, when he’d finally admitted that he loved her and her eyes had sparkled with joy and she’d brought him into the cabin to take him to bed, she’d started channeling on him and he’d gotten scared and Moiraine had burst in and slit her throat right on top of him and blood had been everywhere and he’d found out she’d been a Forsaken the whole time.
So. It had been a long time. Rand knew it would be good with Elayne and Aviendha. Good and joyful and honest. But he was already overwhelmed by all the emotions of the night—he wasn’t sure if he was ready to add sex on top of it too.
And in an odd way, there was also something good about not doing it. He could remember…even when Lanfear had still been playacting as Selene, the times when Rand had started the night saying he didn’t want to have sex had almost always ended in them having sex anyway. He should have noticed that Selene never really listened to him, not when he said something she didn’t want to hear.
But Elayne and Aviendha were listening to him. There was no disappointment or annoyance in either of their expressions at the prospect of stopping—only affection and care for his comfort.
Rand thought he might cry.
He smiled at them, shaky but sincere. “I want to. But…not quite yet,” he said. “Another night?”
Elayne kissed him again. “Whenever you want,” she said. “We’ll be here.”
“Always,” Aviendha murmured. She touched her forehead to his. “Shade of our heart. We will always be here.”