Work Text:
The invitation for the Damodred Feast of Lights dinner arrives in a thick, cream coloured envelope, and if the familiar handwriting of her mother isn’t enough to remind Moiraine why she hates family gatherings, her actual words definitely are.
They are riddled with thinly veiled accusations, and full of thorns whenever Moiraine’s mother brushes on Moiraine’s personal life — or lack thereof. It’s the same as every year, and Moiraine knows she will continue to comment on her relationship status for the whole duration of her stay.
She is already exhausted when she reaches the end of the letter, and hasn’t even spoken a single word to her mother yet.
Moiraine isn’t sure she can deal with this for another year. She’s desperate enough she asks Lan if he can accompany her, just to have some semblance of peace. After all, her mother keeps pestering her why she and Lan aren’t dating, and what is wrong with her, or him, or both.
But Lan, Light blind him, has just met someone he wants to spend the holidays with. Of course he has. It’s just Moiraine’s luck.
“You could celebrate with us,” he offers nonetheless. “Nynaeve hasn’t any family left, and —”
“If you think I’ll sit idly by and watch you two be helplessly romantic, forget it,” she interrupts him. Light, she doesn’t need his pity. “I can have that with Innloine and her husband.”
“Well.” He shrugs, and they work for quite a while in silence.
Finally, he asks, “What will you do instead?”
“Go over and be miserable, as usual,” Moiraine mutters bitterly. “I’ll survive. Don’t worry.”
“I worry about myself. You always come back unbearable.”
She laughs a fake laugh, and returns to the manuscript she was working through.
The days melt away, and Moiraine’s mood plummets. She finds herself looking for excuses why she can’t make it this year.
Late one evening, when Moiraine has finally decided to drag herself to bed instead of puzzling further over her translation, Lan sends her a link.
Maybe interesting?
It leads to an online market place, one of the biggest in Tar Valon, and an offer by someone with the nickname The Pike pops up. It’s titled Feast Day Companion.
Are you tired of your relatives’ constant nagging because you showed up for the holidays alone again? Do you want to spend Feast of Lights without answering annoying questions about your relationship status? Here’s how I can help.
I offer to accompany you to family gatherings over Feast of Lights/First Day and pretend to be your new partner. I’m 35 and look good enough it won’t seem like an act of pity on your part, but not so good that your family will think I’m after your money.
What do I get out of it?
If all goes well, a good feast day meal, and I won’t have to sit around on my own for the holidays.
In case you don’t like your family, I’d be willing to pick a fight for a little something extra.
Happy holidays :)
Very funny, Moiraine texts Lan. It’s a silly offer, and not helpful at all. Probably only a prank.
The offer is still online the next morning, two days before Feast of Lights, and Moiraine’s last day of work for the year.
It’s still online by lunchtime.
In the early afternoon, Moiraine’s mother calls, and, when Moiraine doesn’t answer, texts her whether she’ll come, and if she really plans to arrive alone again. Another bait for another lecture.
Moiraine decides to contact The Pike.
Hi! I’ve seen your offer. Are you still free?
A reply arrives within fifteen minutes. Yeah :) Both days.
Great, Moiraine answers. Would you be willing to take a trip to Cairhien? You won’t have to worry about your expenses at all.
She bites her lip. The Pike could be a terrible person. She could get herself into trouble. But she is tired enough of her mother to try.
Oh. That wasn’t exactly what I had expected ...
Sure, though. Why not.
Moiraine texts her mother. I’ll bring someone this year.
Her mother answers within minutes. Finally! I can’t wait to meet him.
Moiraine almost feels sorry for the poor Pike. Her mother will give them a hard time.
The thing is just this: my flight leaves tomorrow at noon. I’ll book you on, Moiraine writes.
I was afraid you’d say that … 🥲 Maybe we should talk in person? Pike writes. Just to see how we get along. I’m about to leave for swim practice, but I’m free after five.
Yes, that sounds reasonable, Moiraine agrees. It makes her pulse quicken. What if Pike truly is a terrible person, and she has to cancel? Moiraine might never recover from the following conversation with her mother. We could meet at Victory Fountain. Can you do 5:15?
Can do :) I’m the one with the fish hat. Here’s my number, in case anything goes wrong.
Moiraine saves the number, then wonders how Pike will recognise her — she doesn’t think there’s anything outstanding about herself, and she usually prefers clothing that makes her blend in.
I’m short, and I wear a long blue coat, she writes, and then adds her number. I’m Moiraine, by the way.
I’m Siuan :)
Siuan. Moiraine’s brows furrow. That would be an unusual name for a man. She feels even more sorry for Pike now. If it’s a woman, Moiraine’s mother will scrutinise them both, and while Moiraine is sure she can deal with it, she doesn’t wish that upon anyone else.
Maybe she’ll get thrown out this way. Maybe she won’t be bullied and guilt-tripped into coming back next year.
Maybe she should gift Siuan a weekend at a wellness retreat for agreeing to that.
Moiraine shakes her head. She has more pressing matters to worry about. Like the deadline for that lightforsaken report that has just been shortened to five pm.
Moiraine is a few minutes early. She chooses a bench that provides a good view of the plaza, and waits.
A young couple comes by, looking at each other in a way that makes Moiraine want to yell at them to mind their steps. A guy with a tiny dog crosses the plaza, and another guy with a larger dog approaches him. The dogs stop, sniff, then bark at each other. With many giggles and loud, excited voices, a group of young women walks past. There are many people, but no one stops at the fountain.
Moiraine checks her watch. Five eighteen. They’re off to a good start.
A woman hurries onto the plaza, in a short, bright blue coat and a knit hat that looks suspiciously like a carp. When she reaches the fountain, she turns around to look over the plaza.
Moiraine gets up and walks over.
“Hi!” The woman smiles at Moiraine, and little dimples appear on her cheeks. “I’m Siuan.”
“Moiraine.” She shakes Siuan’s hand. “Should we get coffee while we talk?”
“Yes, please,” Siuan says. “It’s freezing. Over there is a little place that’s quite nice.”
They walk over to the cafe Siuan points to. It’s a Tairen place that serves strong coffee and soft little cakes.
For a bit, they just look at each other, almost shy. Siuan has a friendly, open face, with dark eyes and tight curls. She wears simple gold earrings, and a black wool sweater with snowflakes and teal accents that falls off one shoulder and exposes a band of tattoos.
She’s pretty. Moiraine wonders why she would offer herself to strangers like that, and what else she might offer herself for.
Moiraine forces herself to not think about it, and smiles nervously. “Well. Here we are.”
“Yes. So. Two days in Cairhien? I have to work again at the third of Taisham.”
Moiraine nods. “My flight back is on the first at three in the afternoon. I’d leave earlier if I could.” She presses her lips together. It’s none of Siuan’s business. “What do you work as?”
“I work in environmental protection. And you?”
“I’m a historian.”
“Interesting.”
Moiraine smiles, and heat creeps over her face. “Well. Back to the holidays. Please pack something decent to wear. My family doesn’t really lounge around, and they are quite conservative.”
Siuan nods. “Noted. Will we participate in the traditional festivities?”
“In a way.” Moiraine grimaces. “It’ll be more of a private party, though there will still be many people. If you don’t want to … if you feel uncomfortable that someone could touch you, you have to be firm. Or you could stay with the kids, they’re doing their own little party.”
“I don’t mind parties. Shouldn’t people leave me alone, more or less, though, when I show up as your partner?” Siuan smiles at her, and Moiraine smiles back easily.
She hasn’t even thought about this. Maybe, there are even more benefits to this arrangement than she considered. And, the thought of having a woman at her side doesn’t fill her with the anxiety she remembers from her past, short-lived relationships with men.
Which is unexpected.
“Yes. I’m going to put you on my flights right now.” She pulls out her laptop, and is glad she has something to do. Siuan’s attention feels surprisingly intense.
Siuan hums. “Is there anything else I need to keep in mind? People I should talk to, or avoid at all cost?”
Moiraine hesitates. “My mother is very strict. She probably won’t like you. It’s nothing personal. If my brother attends, keep your distance.”
“Okay.” Siuan shifts in her seat, and opens her mouth a few times as if to say something.
“Yes?” Moiraine finally prompts, and looks up from rebooking her flights.
Siuan shakes her head. “No, not my place to comment.”
“Is this how you usually do this? Not commenting? Have you been doing this often?” Moiraine turns her laptop so it faces Siuan. “Please enter your information and confirm.”
“I have never done this before,” Siuan says, and starts typing in her information.
This is not what Moiraine expected. “So … how do you …?”
“I don’t know.” Siuan shrugs. “I’m pretty good at improvising.”
Moiraine isn’t, but she keeps that to herself, and when Siuan leans back, she turns her laptop again to complete the transaction.
“I’ll take the train at nine twenty tomorrow morning,” she says. “Please be on time.”
Siuan grins. “Don’t worry. Just to recap — fancy clothing, best manners, avoid your mother and brother. Anything else?”
For a moment, Moiraine just blinks. “I’m not a very physical person.”
“We’ll keep it modest, then,” Siuan says lightly.
Moiraine lies awake the whole night, turns from left to right, and keeps replaying the conversation in her mind. She’s sure she came across as offputting, and even more that Siuan won’t show up the next morning.
This will be embarrassing. Probably her most uncomfortable Feast of Lights yet.
Three times, she begins to draft a message to Lan, and deletes every one. He’ll probably laugh at her for even attempting something so ridiculous, or tell her she should just have joined him and Nynaeve.
She nods off around four in the morning, and wakes just two hours later when the alarm blares, stiff from exhaustion.
Time moves like jelly around her and races at the same time, and she feels perpetually behind on her schedule.
When she arrives at the station, slightly later than planned, Siuan is already there. She sits on a bench, wearing a dark pant suit and a light blue silk scarf, and has a sensible carryon next to her.
“Hi,” she says, and offers Moiraine a much appreciated cup of coffee from the little double tray next to her.
“Good morning. Thank you.” Moiraine sits down next to her, and takes the coffee. “Any last minute regrets?”
Siuan shakes her head. “My only regret is the flight.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“If the Creator had wanted me to fly, he’d have given me wings.” Siuan takes a deep breath. “I’ll be fine. Is that our train?”
The flight goes over well. Moiraine has packed an essay to read, though she doesn’t get to it. Siuan is so nervous she keeps her hands clamped around the armrests, and keeps talking about the movie she has seen recently.
It’s one Lan has dragged Moiraine into as well, so she knows at least what it’s about.
“Did you like it?” Siuan asks.
“It was entertaining,” Moiraine replies evenly. “Is that the kind of movie you like in general?”
“It was a bit too focussed on flashy fights. Usually, I prefer movies that make me think about the plot, and try to figure it out.”
“Me, too,” Moiraine says. “Have you seen that one spy movie from Andor? With the mole right at the top of the Andorian Secret Service?”
“Yes!” Siuan’s eyes shine with excitement. “I love that one, it’s bloody brilliant! Have you read the novel?”
The rest of the flights melts away quickly in a discussion about movies and novels. Moiraine catches herself thinking about seeing a movie with Siuan, and reigns herself in. After the holidays, they’ll go their separate ways again.
That’s the whole point of this arrangement.
At the airport in Cairhien, Moiraine feels the familiar anxiety creep up. She wants to fly back and spend the days in her flat, staring at the ceiling.
Instead, she picks up her luggage and walks out of the airport.
“My parents will have sent a driver,” she tells Siuan. “The whole traffic system is usually a nightmare during this time of the year.”
“They sent a driver,” Siuan repeats slowly. “You know, I’ve never … met anyone who had a personal driver.” She laughs awkwardly. “I don’t think my fancy clothes are fancy enough.”
Moiraine looks her over. “I think you look fine. That scarf colour suits you.” It’s an understatement. Siuan looks beautiful.
At the house, Siuan turns to Moiraine.
“Fish guts, this is a mansion,” she hisses. “Are you a princess or what?”
Moiraine blushes. “No. My family just has money.”
“I can see that.”
Moiraine’s mother lies in wait next to the door when Moiraine comes in, all smiles and sweet voice as she greets her youngest daughter. Her face falls when she sees Siuan.
“Oh,” she says, disappointment barely contained, “you brought a friend.”
“Mother, this is Siuan.”
Siuan smiles, and offers Moiraine’s mother her hand. “I’m happy to meet you. Siuan Sanche.”
“Auverne Damodred.” She looks back to Moiraine. “We need to rearrange the guest rooms. Maybe some of the children will share.”
“No, it’s fine. We will manage.” Moiraine’s cheeks burn. She should have known.
Moiraine leads the way to her room, and Siuan follows. The room is one of Moiraine’s favourites: dark and moody, with a slanted ceiling, and a bed wide enough for two. The window looks over a nearby park.
“Pick whatever side of the bed you like most,” Moiraine says, but Siuan keeps standing next to the door.
“You’re not out to your family,” she says.
Moiraine doesn’t respond. What is she supposed to say? She has never talked about any of her relationship with her parents. Much less the possibility she might be gay. Which she’s not sure she is.
“There’s nothing to be out about.” Moiraine shrugs, and Siuan frowns.
“Wait. You’re not gay?”
“I didn’t know you were a woman.”
“No, you just … I thought …” Siuan shakes her head. “Would you rather have me pose as your platonic friend?”
Moiraine considers. The thought of having Siuan as a romantic partner feels comforting. She has the sinking feeling she should examine this closer, but now is not the time for this. “There might be some awkward questions.”
“I can deal with that. Can you?”
Moiraine scoffs. “I grew up here.”
They stare at each other for a few seconds.
“Do you want a house tour?” Moiraine finally asks, and Siuan sighs and nods.
Moiraine’s brother and his family arrive in time for dinner. He has two sons and a daughter, and his second wife Morgase has her personal assistant trailing behind her, a strict looking woman named Elaida with dark hair, who wears a heavily embroidered red brocade dress. It makes Moiraine feel underdressed in her own family’s home.
When Moiraine and Siuan come to the dining room to greet them, Elaida is busy chiding Taringail’s daughter Elayne for one thing or the other.
Elayne looks up, and tears her arm from Elaida’s grip. “Aunt Mo!” She comes running, and Moiraine isn’t quick enough to evade the hug. “Did you find treasures again this year? Who are you?”
“I’m Siuan.” Siuan shakes Elayne’s hand, and then that of Moiraine’s father, who comes over.
“Father, this is Siuan. Siuan, please meet my father,” Moiraine says.
Her father smiles at her, then at Siuan.
Elayne pulls Moiraine away to her parents, to show her something. While she digs through the bag she brought, Taringail looks disparagingly over Moiraine’s shoulder.
“Did you find yourself a pet?” he asks.
“That’s Siuan. She’s with me,” Moiraine says.
“Interesting.”
Moiraine tenses. “Cut it out, Taringail.”
He snorts, but whatever he wants to comment drowns in Elayne’s excited voice, who carries a book over to Moiraine to show her ancient burial objects.
Under her onslaught of questions, Moiraine loses track of the time, until dinner starts, and Siuan takes her place next to her.
“Everything alright?” Siuan whispers. “You look a bit overwhelmed.”
“Elayne had more questions than I could answer,” Moiraine answers. “Sorry I left you.”
Siuan shakes her head. “We got along. Your father was quite curious about the impacts of munition depots in the Tairen Sea of Storms.”
Moiraine blinks. “Is that what you work on?”
“It’s a research project I currently supervise.”
“Fascinating. You have to tell me more about it!”
Siuan smiles. “I’d love to.”
Though after dinner, Moiraine’s father takes her aside, while her mother ushers her grandchildren out of the room.
“This comes as quite a surprise, I can’t lie, but you look happy. Are you serious about her?” he asks quietly.
Moiraine keeps his gaze. She swallows. Her throat suddenly feels tight, and she just nods.
He pats her arm. “I’m happy you found someone. Even if …” He trails off.
“Thank you.” She clears her throat.
He pats her again, before he goes over to Taringail.
She turns to look for Siuan, who excuses herself from Morgase and Elaida and hurries over. She doesn’t look upset that the conversation is over.
“We wanted to see the library, didn’t we?” she asks.
Moiraine nods, relieved. “Yes. We did. And you wanted to tell me about your research project.”
They walk down the hall in silence. From a half open door, they hear Elayne yell at her brother Gawyn, and Moiraine’s mother chides them.
“You were right,” Siuan says quietly. “She doesn’t like me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Siuan shrugs. “Don’t take it personal, but I don’t think I like her either.”
Moiraine chuckles. “Don’t worry.”
They reach the library, the room Moiraine has probably spent the most time in out of any in the house. As soon as she steps in, the lingering tension melts from her shoulders.
“I see where you got your academic interests from,” Siuan says. “Your father mentioned he’s a historian as well.”
“My mother is a geographer,” Moiraine says, and lets her fingertips run over the spines of a row of books. “They both gave lectures at university.”
“So you’re one of those academic families.” Siuan smiles, her eyes warm and friendly, and her voice is laced with affection when she continues. “My father is a fisherman.”
“In Tear? Is that why you do research about munition in the Sea of Storms?” Moiraine wonders why Siuan doesn’t spend Feast of Lights with her family.
“It certainly made me aware of many issues. When I came to Tar Valon, I became a marine biologist.”
She explains how she came to work in environmental protection, and talks forever about her research projects. After several armed conflicts within the past one hundred years on which Moiraine can provide more context, each party dumped leftover munition into the ocean, and the longer that lies there, the more dangerous it becomes, Siuan explains.
They sit in the library until almost midnight. On their way back to Moiraine’s room, they see Elaida glide through a hall like a ghost, in a blood red robe.
It reminds Moiraine of something she wondered about for the whole evening.
“I wonder why Morgase would bring her assistant to a family gathering,” she mutters.
“They have an affair,” Siuan says, and follows Moiraine into their room.
Moiraine frowns. “I don’t think Taringail likes her at all.”
Siuan chuckles quietly. “But Morgase does.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Why else would she bring Elaida?”
Moiraine worries her lip between her teeth. “I mean, I brought you …”
“Yeah, but I’m neither your assistant nor do you have a husband and kids.”
Moiraine doesn’t know what to say, so she drops the topic for now. Only later, when they’re in bed, Moiraine in silk pyjamas, and Siuan in an oversized band shirt that leaves her legs bare, and Moiraine embarrassingly catches herself staring, she decides to ask why Siuan is here, after all.
Moiraine clears her throat. “Say … why aren’t you with your family?”
“I was afraid you’d ask that …”
“You don’t have to answer, but I’ve noticed you speak of your father quite fondly.”
Siuan rubs her face. “No, it’s alright. I actually thought you’d ask this way earlier.” She sighs. “I’d have loved to spend the holidays with my father in Tear. Thanks to my shitty ex, I can’t, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Moiraine reaches over to put her hand on Siuan’s wrist. “And that’s why you …”
“It was either that or wallow in self pity,” Siuan says. She looks over. “Don’t pity me, Moiraine.”
“I won’t.” She swallows. “My friend offered I could spend the holidays with him and his new girlfriend. I didn’t want to be pitied either.”
For a moment, they sit in silence, then, Siuan snorts.
“Fish guts, we make a pathetic pair.”
Moiraine tries to look offended, but she starts laughing nonetheless.
Moiraine is so exhausted that she falls asleep quickly, and sleeps dreamlessly for the rest of the night.
When she wakes up, she notices that Siuan and her have drifted closer together over night, and lie only a little apart.
Carefully, she backs away, and gets up.
It’s barely dawn, and fresh snow has fallen. Moiraine stands at the bathroom window and watches the snowflakes dance in the light cone of the closest street lamp. It’s the perfect weather for a long walk, especially since most of her family will arrive this morning.
Siuan is awake when Moiraine comes back, and gladly agrees to take a walk.
They leave after breakfast, and the nagging voice of Moiraine’s mother follows them out, accusing Moiraine of always leaving when there’s something to do.
“But you are doing something,” Siuan says innocently. “It’s just as important to take your new girlfriend for a walk.”
Moiraine laughs awkwardly. “Don’t get cheeky.”
“Wasn’t that what she’s supposed to believe?”
“As I see it, the only one who believes it is my father.” She sighs. “He told me we look happy together.” Moiraine hates the way her throat tightens at the words, and hopes Siuan doesn’t notice.
But Siuan only hums, deep in thought. “He said something like it was nice to see you smile.”
Moiraine makes a noise that hopefully sounds like she’s amused.
Siuan doesn’t linger on the subject, and instead comments on the neatly kept park and the straight, regular streets, and how this explains everything about every Cairhienin she ever met.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Moiraine asks.
“You’re all stiff and weird. You should come to Tear at some point. We at least know how to let loose!”
She keeps talking, and Moiraine bends down to form a snowball, and throws it. It hits Siuan in the shoulder, and she whirls around.
“Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn’t get it,” Moiraine says. “I wasn’t listening.”
Siuan’s jaw tightens, and she throws a snowball back. “Oh, I’ll make you listen alright,” she threatens.
They settle into a full blown snowball fight, and are shrieking with laughter just minutes later.
“Stop,” Moiraine finally says, and throws up her arms. “Please.”
“Not bad for someone who hasn’t seen snow until she was eighteen,” Siuan says triumphantly. She slings her arm around Moiraine’s shoulders and squeezes her to herself for a moment.
“This was the most fun I had at Feast of Lights in years. Possibly ever.”
“And thanks to whom?”
Moiraine smacks Siuan’s arm. “You’re getting cheeky again.”
Siuan sticks out her tongue at Moiraine, and quickly darts out of reach. “Thank you,” she says, “for distracting me.”
She smiles softly at Moiraine, cheeks flushed from the cold, snowflakes stuck to her lashes and hat. Thankfully, it’s not the fish hat. She’s beautiful like that.
When Moiraine smiles back, Siuan quickly looks away.
“Should we go back?” she asks.
“We could also warm up with a cup of coffee,” Moiraine suggests.
Siuan nods. “Sounds great. My hands are freezing off.”
Moiraine remembers a cafe on the other end of the park, and they pat the snow from their coats and walk over.
The cafe looks elegant with its interior of dark wood and burgundy cushions, and Moiraine encourages Siuan to try the hot chocolate. When she looks up from the menu, she finds Siuan’s eyes on her.
She smiles nervously. “Is something ...?”
“No, no,” Siuan says quickly, and looks down. “I’d like the hot chocolate,” she tells the waitress, and Moiraine chooses the same.
It comes out just like Moiraine remembers it, thick like pudding and sweet, and they enjoy it in silence.
Back at the house, there is no semblance of silence to be found. Guests pour in, and voices fill the house. Moiraine’s mother stands amidst all of the chaos and sends people this way or that.
Moiraine slinks inside, and pulls Siuan with her, so they can get changed.
Moiraine wears a neatly pressed white shirt and a long black skirt, and pins her hair up with practised precision.
Siuan comes up to her and turns. “Could you?” Siuan has packed a dark blue dress that leaves her arms bare, but covers her chest fully, and Moiraine, embarrassingly, finds herself mourning the fact that she can’t see more of Siuan’s tattoos.
Moiraine leans in to close the zipper. It should only be a single movement, but Moiraine barely dares to touch Siuan. She is warm under Moiraine’s fingers. Slowly, Moiraine trails her fingertip over the tattoo that snakes along Siuan’s spine, and watches it disappear under the dress. Her touch lingers for a moment too long.
“Done,” she whispers, and Siuan turns to her with a soft smile.
“Thank you.”
They still stand close enough that Moiraine can see every little freckle on Siuan’s face. She should move away. Siuan should.
Instead, they seem to lean in even closer.
A crash from the hall, followed by a flutter of voices, make them jump apart.
“Innloine is here,” Moiraine says, and smoothes her blouse out. She can’t bring herself to meet Siuan’s eyes.
What is wrong with her?
“Right.” Siuan collects a blue shawl and arranges it around her shoulders. “I’ll just need a minute.”
She puts in gold earrings in the shape of ginkgo leaves, and quickly pins her hair back.
“I like your earrings,” Moiraine says.
“Thank you. I considered selling them after …” Siuan gives herself a shake. “I’m glad I kept them. Graduation gift from my father.”
“They’re gorgeous. It’s good you didn’t sell them.”
They go downstairs to meet the rest of the guests. Both of Moiraine’s sisters have arrived by now, Innloine with her husband and five children, and Anvaere with her adult son and her third husband trailing behind her, looking sour. Moiraine’s uncles and their wives already sit on the couches, and more relatives and family friends pour in.
Moiraine is busy making small talk and introducing Siuan for the better part of an hour, until a late lunch is served. She is already exhausted, and wishes she and Siuan could retreat to the library. They were met with a mixture of empty stares and looks of pity.
“I won’t lie, I already feel exhausted,” Siuan mutters as they sit down.
Moiraine nods. “I’m sorry.”
“What do you eat for Feast of Lights in Tear?” Moiraine asks. After all that roast duck and heavy sauces and fatty sides, she feels almost sick, and the wine that’s served doesn’t really help.
“We had fish. Always. Wrapped in banana leaves and grilled, served on a bed of spicy vegetables and rice … and soup. Nothing beats a good Tairen holiday soup.” She sighs. “I think all this cream in the sauce would take my father straight out.”
“Not just him.” Moiraine takes a deep breath. She has no idea how to sit through dessert without getting sick.
“Well, we should …” Siuan clears her throat. “Never mind.”
“What were you going to say?”
“I …” Siuan laughs nervously. “I was about to say, next year we could …”
Moiraine makes a surprised noise, and blushes. Immediately, she thinks how nice it would be to travel to Tear with Siuan, like the fool she is. They’ve known each other for two days.
“Well, who knows what’s going to happen,” Moiraine says awkwardly, and Siuan just sighs.
That’s a no, then.
It hurts more than it should, and Moiraine concentrates on her mousse so she won’t burst into tears over the rejection.
Usually, it is her who rejects people. Men, to be precise, though there has also been a woman who had been quite persistent. But as nice as kissing her at parties had been, Moiraine hadn’t seen anything more in them.
She has thought herself simply not interested enough in anyone. But maybe, she has just missed something crucial about herself.
After lunch, Innloine ushers the kids to a separate room, as usual. She always stays with them, too. The rest of the guests leave the dining room as well. Some go into the sitting room to talk and smoke, others go to dance, and some end up in another sitting room that has a bar in one corner, and a buffet along the wall.
“What do you want to do?” Moiraine asks.
Laughter floats from the sitting room. Before Siuan can answer, a cold hand closes around Moiraine’s arm, and her uncle shoves her further down the hall.
“We need to talk,” he says sternly. “I don’t care about your personal shortcomings, though I do have to question why you put them on display like that. What made you think this was a good decision? The Tairen may be obscene enough, but you’re Cairhienin.”
“I don’t live in Carihien anymore,” Moiraine says, and tries in vain to pry his fingers off.
“Dalresin was too soft with you,” he hisses.
“Is that all you wanted to discuss?”
It is not. He launches into a discussion on one of his businesses, and tries once again to get Moiraine involved. He does this every year, and she finds it harder and harder to refuse his manipulations.
This is exactly the kind of situation she wanted to avoid, and get out of by having a partner with her. But Siuan is nowhere in sight.
When she finally manages to get out of the conversation, she wants to scream. Quickly, she crosses the sitting room and slips out to the spacious balcony, in the hope that the cold air will help to calm her down. She wills her tears away.
Music comes from the city, blown over by an icy wind.
Someone comes closer, and Moiraine squares her shoulders, ready to tell the person off.
It’s Siuan.
“Are you alright?” she whispers. “Do you want me to start a fight with someone? Maybe we get thrown out that way.”
Moiraine chokes out a laugh, but it turns into a sob. Light, what would she give to be free from this. She leans into Siuan’s careful hug.
“Don’t,” she tells her, “it’s not worth to have them dig through your life.”
“Not much to find there,” Siuan says lightly, and rubs Moiraine’s shoulder. “Just work and more work, and debt my ex left me.”
“I’m sorry.” Moiraine pulls her closer. “I’m so sorry, Siuan. I wish you had found someone else, someone who didn’t drag you to this terrible event.”
“It’s fine,” she mutters. “It’s a good distraction. Don’t worry about me.”
They hug for a while, until Moiraine manages to pull herself together. She dabs her face with the tissue Siuan hands her, and knows she needs a mirror anyway.
Siuan shivers.
“Let’s get back inside,” Moiraine says. “I need to go back to my room anyway.”
“This dress isn’t made for snow,” Siuan admits.
She keeps her fingers, warm despite the cold air, at Moiraine’s elbow when they return inside, and until they reach their room.
“We could just leave,” she suggests. “They’re all busy enough no one would notice.”
She’s probably right.
“I can’t,” Moiraine says. “Next year would be a nightmare.”
“Why do you keep coming back?”
“Because it’s family.”
Siuan exhales, and lies back on the bed.
Moiraine’s eyes are glued onto her reflection, the way her body looks when the dress is pulled taut, and she swallows.
“Not trying to tell you what to do, but you are aware that you don’t have to do that, right? People have cut contact for less.”
Moiraine scoffs. “It’s just my uncle. I usually avoid him.”
“Except that it’s not. It’s your mother, and your brother, and probably everyone else except your father, that has you tense from the moment you enter the house.”
Moiraine stays silent. She has thought about this before, has spent whole nights worrying and dreading this event.
“Speaking of which, I haven’t seen him since lunch.”
“He’s probably in his study,” Moiraine says. “He’s not too fond of all the noise.” She checks her own reflection for the last time. “I’m done. We should go back down.”
Siuan sits back up. “Sure?”
Moiraine nods.
“Alright. If we can’t get thrown out and can’t just leave, can we make it fun at least?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. If you want to leave, do — I’ll pay your hotel bill.”
Siuan waves her hand. “I won’t leave you alone in a pond full of silverpikes.”
She takes Moiraine’s hand, and leads her back downstairs. They turn into one of the dance rooms, and the evening melts away.
There are a few men who try to get one of them to dance with them. One, a distant cousin of Moiraine, tries to just grab her and whisk her away. Siuan smacks his hand away, and pulls Moiraine closer, glaring at him.
“Fish guts, that is just rude,” she mutters. “You told him no already.”
“Don’t mind him,” Moiraine says, because she doesn’t dare to say what she wants to. Keep holding me.
Siuan does anyway, and they keep dancing.
People keep trailing in and out of the room, of the house. The rooms fill with people who weren’t exactly invited, but are welcome anyway, like every year. On their way to grab more wine, they see a couple making out in a dark corner of the hallway, and another on the balcony when they consider to step outside for a moment. Moiraine thinks she recognises the man, but turns around too quickly to say for sure.
She focusses on Siuan’s hand, still laced with her fingers.
“You know, I’ve heard things about Feast of Lights in Cairhien,” Siuan says.
“And? Does reality come close?”
Siuan shrugs. She leans closer to the buffet. “What’s that?”
“Pastries. Filled with vegetables and pork, and spicy.”
“We could share one.” Siuan lets go of Moiraine’s hand, and gets a plate.
They break one of the pastries in two, and it’s just how Moiraine remembers it from past years. Crispy, flaky dough, and steaming filling.
“I thought you said it was spicy,” Siuan says.
“Isn’t it?”
Siuan laughs. “Come by my place sometime and I’ll show you proper spicy food.”
“Really?” Moiraine’s pulse quickens, and she’s sure her face turns bright red.
“Really.”
They’re standing very close once again at one of the little tables. Close enough their shoulders brush. Close enough Siuan’s breath caresses Moiraine’s jaw.
Close enough she just needs to shift a tiny bit, and she could kiss Siuan.
Which she does.
For a short, fragile moment, it feels like nothing else exists. Just Siuan’s lips, impossibly soft. Her hand on Moiraine’s arm. The warm scent of her perfume.
Then, Moiraine remembers where she is, and straightens.
Siuan looks at her with wide eyes, lips slightly parted. She raises her hand, and lets her knuckles run over Moiraine’s cheek.
“I … I might like women, after all,” Moiraine stammers, and Siuan smiles.
“You look so pretty like that,” she whispers. “Do you want to find a quiet corner?”
“Not … not for …” Moiraine’s eyes flicker to the balcony door.
Siuan giggles. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to attack you. I have some decency, you know?”
Moiraine laughs despite everything. “Let’s just … I don’t know.”
“Moiraine.” Siuan taps her wrist. “Do you think anyone will miss us if we just disappear?”
She hesitates. People disappear from the party all the time, for one reason or the other. Most the time for indecent reasons. “Probably not.”
For lack of any better private spot, they return to their room.
Siuan takes Moiraine by the shoulders, and kisses her again. It begins soft and sweet, like before, but quickly turns hungry and purposeful. Siuan holds her close, and Moiraine lets her hands run over Siuan’s back.
Finally, Siuan pulls away, but rests her forehead against Moiraine’s.
“I’ve wanted to do that for the whole day,” she whispers.
Moiraine hums. “You lied, you know?”
“I lied?”
“On your offer. You wrote you were just pretty enough it wouldn’t seem like pity from my side, but you are so much more beautiful than that.”
Siuan chuckles. “Am I? Or am I just your type?”
Moiraine is sure she resembles a ripe cherry by now.
Siuan pecks her on the cheek. “Are you okay? It seems like something pretty big in your life just shifted.”
“I don’t know,” Moiraine admits. There’s too much to consider right now. Too much she has never thought about. “I’m not sure things have really changed so far.”
But even as she says it, she knows it’s not true. She wonders if she even knows who she is anymore.
Siuan keeps holding her, and whispers reassurances into her hair.
They talk for hours, after that. Siuan goes through the pictures of Tear on her phone, and Moiraine talks about her research. They fall asleep cuddled together.
Moiraine wakes with her back pressed to Siuan, and Siuan’s arms strong and warm around her. She could get used to waking up like that every day, and when she tries to imagine it, tries to think of her and Siuan waking up together peacefully, back in Tar Valon or Tear, it feels so sweet she feels tears well up in her eyes.
Siuan hugs her tighter. “It’s fine,” she mumbles. “Don’t cry. It’ll be well.”
Moiraine squeezes Siuan’s hand.
The late breakfast feels like a funeral meal. Innloine’s eyes are reddened, and she’s not talking to her husband, who has spent the night with a friend of Moiraine’s mother. No matter what social norms fall for Feast of Lights, this one wasn’t supposed to.
Anvaere is seething in her seat. Her son left the party halfway through to light fireworks with a group of young men, and they set fire to some expensive cars. They all got arrested around four in the morning, and Anvaere and husband number three keep hissing at each other who’s at fault for that.
Taringail is still hangover in bed, and Moiraine’s mother keeps glaring at Moiraine and Siuan. Her father, however, sits with them, and talks to Siuan about her research project.
“Your father is cute,” Siuan says when they’re back upstairs, getting ready for their drive back to the airport.
“Is he?”
“Yes. He has no idea about the aquatic environment or harmful chemicals released by munition at all, but he’s trying so hard to show interest.”
Moiraine considers. She always felt her father was quite detached, but at least, he made an effort. “I guess you’re right.” She reaches over and takes Siuan’s hand. “Thank you. This was probably the best Feast of Lights ever.”
Siuan turns her hand so she can squeeze Moiraine’s fingers. “That’s what I came here for, wasn’t it?” She tugs at Moiraine’s hand. “I still have tomorrow off. How about we’ll do something actually fun and cosy? There’s a park of ice sculptures near Northharbour. We could get coffee after, to warm up. Or … you could come over, for some good warm soup.”
Moiraine smiles. “I’d love that.”