Work Text:
The hilltop was hardly at a safe distance, but anywhere within sight of the smoking ruins of the Black Tower there was the danger of being seen in turn. Logain could not bring himself to care. A part of his mind kept going over the battle again and again, looking for something he could have done differently, something he should have noticed or thought of to turn the tide and save the day. He knew there was nothing he or anyone could have done. The Seanchan were simply too many, their damane trained for hundreds of years in the art of destruction that the Asha’man had been perfecting for less than a decade, the Black Tower already weakened by having so many of their numbers away helping with the evacuation of Caemlyn.
The Black Tower was lost.
Logain felt saidin channelled behind him, heard light footsteps approaching and halting a few paces behind to his right. He didn’t turn to look, and for a while the newcomer just watched, sharing with him the deep silence of insurmountable defeat.
“That’s… not the Black Tower, you know,” Mazrim Taim finally said. He sounded almost as tired as Logain felt, his voice hoarse from shouting orders and uncharacteristically hesitant.
“Really.” Logain lacked the energy to make the word sound like a question.
Taim was silent for so long that Logain began to think he was not going to elaborate, but finally he spoke again. “I think I told you once… I don’t know if you remember…” A pause. “I told you that the Black Tower was more than the stone wall and a the buildings.” Another pause, longer this time. “I meant it, Logain.”
Unsure if he had heard right, Logain turned to look at the other man. Taim, who treated their alliance and the war that had made it necessary - or even possible - like it was a game or a bitter joke played by the Wheel itself, now looked as serious as Logain had ever seen him. Exhaustion was evident in the man’s expression, the dark shadows under his eyes, the slightly slumped posture as he stood before Logain, but not a speck of dirt marred the pristine black uniform or the uncharacteristically pale face, not a single hair was out of place. Logain grimaced, wiping at his own face, which probably only managed to spread the soot and mostly-dried blood instead of cleaning anything. He wasn’t even sure whether the blood was his own; he didn’t feel pain, but he wasn’t sure that was necessarily indicative of his actual condition. He just felt… numb. Tired, yes, and filthy, but mostly numb.
“You haven’t been Healed,” Taim observed. Somehow it sounded like an accusation. A shrug was all the response Logain could muster. The look that flashed in the dark eyes might have been that of exasperation. “They’ll have finished the evacuation by now. Flinn was there when I left. You should…” Taim trailed off; expressing concern was not something that came naturally to the former M’Hael.
Logain ignored the half-voiced suggestion to seek Healing and chose a tangent instead. “The evacuation. Caemlyn is empty?” Abandoning Caemlyn was an outrage - the necessity of it was an outrage - but with the Black Tower lost, they were not going to be able to defend the capital of Andor for much longer.
Taim shook his head slightly. “Oh, hardly empty,” he replied. “Some people - quite a few it appears - would rather take their chances under the reign of the Seanchan Empire and its benevolent Empress Fortuona, may she live forever.” The sarcasm in his voice had none of its usual edge but was unmistakable nonetheless.
Logain blinked, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. “You mean we’re just going to leave them there?”
“We can’t exactly force them to evacuate,” Taim countered. “Or we could, of course, but I can’t see why we would want to. We have enough people to relocate, enough mouths to feed through the winter as it is.”
Taim was right, of course, but that didn’t make it feel any less wrong. Logain looked back to what had been the Black Tower; black smoke was still rising from the ruins and some of the Seanchan flying beasts circled in the sky above the compound. “What are we going to do?” He had to force the words out, and the way his voice cracked towards the end of the sentence made him wish he had just remained silent. It was not as if he was expecting an answer, anyway.
For the second time in a very short time, Taim surprised him. “We regroup,” he said, so matter-of-factly - almost casually - that it had to be a calculated effort. He stepped forward to stand beside Logain, shoulder brushing lightly against the taller man’s. “We count our losses. We find a new, defensible base to use as headquarters. We keep fighting.”
Logain glanced sideways at his companion, who was pointedly not looking at him but kept his eyes fixed towards the ruins in the distance. Logain snorted softly. “As far as motivational speeches go, that’s somewhat lacking…” He shifted his weight slightly as the dull ache in his right leg began to penetrate through the fog that had surrounded him ever since the battle.
Something that might have been his signature almost-smile or a grimace twitched the corners of Taim’s mouth. “Does that come as a surprise to you?” he asked, dry as dust.
Logain shook his head, and winced as the motion made the world spin wildly for a second before settling down again. “Not really, no,” he muttered, ignoring the sharp look Taim cast his way.
“You really might want to consider that Healing,” Taim said, in that overly indifferent voice that Logain knew by now meant quite the opposite of indifference. A hand rested lightly on Logain’s shoulder and the chill of Delving ran through him. The hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary before withdrawing, and then Taim spoke again, “I’m not entirely sure how you’re still standing. Will you come with me or do I have to use force? We need you… functional, now more than ever.”
Logain knew there was truth to Taim’s words, but the thought of going back to the others and facing Androl and Jonneth and everyone wasn’t something he wanted to think about yet. He nodded regardless. “Right. Let’s go then.” Too tired to channel, he watched Taim open a gateway, but when he tried to move through, his right leg folded and he would have fallen if Taim hadn’t caught him. The dull ache had evolved into a sharp pain lancing through the thigh when he as much as moved the leg; it was certainly not going to bear his weight. He let out a hissing breath as he leaned heavily on the other man. “If you even think of an ‘I told you so’…” he muttered sourly.
“Never crossed my mind,” Taim replied smoothly and casually slid his left arm around Logain’s waist while adjusting his grip on Logain’s right arm with his other hand. “Let’s try that again, shall we?” He steered Logain through the gateway with surprising gentleness that Logain didn’t fail to appreciate even though every step sent a fresh jolt of pain through his leg regardless.
Taim led him across the White Tower travelling grounds, towards the barracks where the Asha’man were temporarily housed. Logain was dimly aware that they were attracting attention and soon had something of a following - he could hear his name being repeated in concerned tones, by both male and female voices whose owners he couldn’t quite identify - but just moving forward required most of his attention.
“I’m sorry we have to take the long way,” Taim murmured, sounding for all the world like he actually meant it. “The place is so packed I can’t open a gateway in there without risking slicing some poor bastard in half.”
“I’m fine,” Logain said, earning a doubtful look.
“Whatever you say,” Taim replied. Then they were at the door and the crowd around them doubled and tripled rapidly, everyone talking over each other, and Taim had to raise his voice to be heard over the din. “Asha’man Flinn? Somebody fetch Flinn, and be quick about it!”
“Damer is resting,” a clear woman’s voice said calmly. “But he is not the only one around here who knows Healing, as I’m sure you’d realise if you stopped to think for a second.” The voice belonged to Corele Hovian, the Yellow Aes Sedai who had bonded Flinn. The crowd parted easily before her as she glided towards Taim and Logain and stopped before them.
“Very well,” Taim said, with a hint of challenge to his voice. “Are you going to Heal him, then?”
The Aes Sedai folded her arms across her chest and frowned up at Taim, likely unimpressed with his tone. Logain closed his eyes briefly; the world was spinning again and he was distinctly glad of the supporting arm around him. He could hear Corele speaking in a sharp voice, and Taim replying in the low, smooth voice that Logain knew meant danger…
He must have blacked out because the next thing he knew he was being lowered onto a mattress on the floor in a small room he didn’t think he’d seen before. He tried to sit but a hand on his shoulder held him still with almost embarrassing ease. He turned his head to see Taim crouched beside him and watching him with an unreadable look in his dark eyes. Then Taim stood up and Corele replaced him in Logain’s field of vision. With a smile that Logain could only describe as reassuring, the Aes Sedai laid her hands on him and channelled; the icy shock of Healing washed over Logain and then the pain was gone. The exhaustion remained, both physical and mental, but he pushed it aside and sat up.
“Thank you, Corele Sedai,” he said, surprised to hear how steady his voice was.
Corele nodded. “You should rest,” she said, not an order or even a suggestion, just stating a fact. “It’s been a long day, even without the Healing.” She straightened and cast a sharp look at Taim, who stood with his arms crossed by the door. “He can be removed…”
Logain shook his head. “No, he can stay.”
“Very well, then,” Corele said coolly. “Just make sure you do rest. Then she left, closing the door behind her.
Logain looked around the room; besides the two mattresses on opposite sides of the room, there was nothing to see. It had been years since the barracks had last housed anywhere near as many people as there were now, and furniture was in an even shorter supply than space. A small window gave a bit of light, a glowing sphere of saidin more so. He looked back at Taim, who still had not said a word. Logain was not sure he had the energy for a conversation but he figured he owed the other man something. “Sit.” Taim gave him a blank stare, but obeyed. Logain sighed. “Thank you,” he said after a moment.
The almost-smile that passed across the other man’s lips was at odds with the hollow look in his dark eyes. “They shouldn’t have left you alone there. If you’d been spotted by the Seanchan…” Taim shook his head tiredly.
“Don’t blame them,” Logain said. “I told them to leave me. At least I think I did.”
Taim shot him a sharp look. “You’re an idiot.”
“I just wanted to…” Logain trailed off helplessly. “We lost the Black Tower, Taim. Does it mean nothing to you?” The other man’s expression went blank again. “I don’t know how you do it,” Logain continued. “You just shrug it off and keep going. Do you actually feel anything?”
Logain knew he had gone too far, but the words had been said and there was no taking them back. Taim stood up without a word and started towards the door. “Wait!” Logain never made the decision to speak, suddenly he just heard his voice utter the word. Taim froze with his hand on the door handle. He didn’t turn back, but he wasn’t leaving, either. Mentally scrambling for something to say, Logain stood up as well - rather less gracefully - and closed the distance between them, raised his hand to place on the other man’s shoulder but hesitated, then let it fall back to his side. “I’m sorry,” he eventually said. “That was uncalled for. I should be thanking you. In fact I think I was trying to, but… it didn’t turn out that well, now, did it.”
Taim finally turned to face him and leaned on the door frame. “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a razor-thin almost-smile. “Already shrugged off.”
Logain grimaced. “Taim-” he began, but was interrupted by a dismissive gesture from the other man.
“Don’t,” Taim said. “I… understand. I created the Black Tower, Logain. And I lost the Black Tower.” He hesitated, looking at Logain as if evaluating something but Logain couldn’t figure out what. “But it’s not gone, Logain. The Black Tower - it’s people like you, Flinn, Narishma, Grady, Hopwil, even Genhald. The Black Tower isn’t lost - I don’t even know why I’m having to tell you this, Logain. You’re not stupid. You’re pretty damn far from stupid…”
Logain honestly wasn’t sure he agreed, regarding the matter of his intellect at least; he was suddenly fighting the urge to do something extremely stupid and the way Taim looked at him with his tilted eyes like black jewels was not helping at all. Nor did the memory of Taim’s arms supporting him, the memory of the other man’s body against his nor the fact that he was even now close enough to touch… To his surprise his hand didn’t shake when he raised it to lay on Taim’s shoulder. There might have been a hint of surprise on the other man’s face but it was gone so quickly he might have imagined it. Then Taim placed his own hand over Logain’s, and a ghost of a smile flashed across the man’s lips.
“The Aes Sedai was right,” Taim said. “You should rest. We can talk more later, once you’re not too tired to think straight. If you insist.”
“You should, too,” Logain replied. “Rest, I mean.”
Taim shook his head. “I have to return to my men,” he said. “They’re camped outside Lugagde. Al’Vere didn’t want them inside the city.” A wry note entered his voice. “I’d rather not leave them unsupervised for too long. Gedwyn knows how to follow orders, but Mishraile is liable to storm in here with a dozen of the… less Aes Sedai friendly individuals, if I don’t return by nightfall.” When Logain was about to protest, he continued, “As I said, we can talk later. Tomorrow. If you still want to.”
Finally, Logain nodded. He really was too tired to think. He didn’t want Taim to leave - he didn’t want to be alone but didn’t feel like seeking out the company of the other Asha’man. He didn’t think he could deal with their sympathy, or worse, their expectation that he was going to just pick up the pieces of the Black Tower and lead them into battle once more. Coming from Taim, it was… different. Taim had been a leader himself. Was a leader still, if right now only to a few score renegade Dreadlords who, much like Taim himself, weren’t particularly welcome on either side of the Light-Shadow divide. “All right,” Logain said. “Tomorrow. I’m going to hold you to that.”
Then Taim was gone and Logain lay down on the lumpy mattress, asleep almost before his head hit the mattress.
He woke up some hours later, considerably refreshed. A look out of the window told him that it was still night. He could - and probably should - have gone back to sleep, but he was feeling restless and eventually decided that a breath of the fresh night air might help. He found his way out of the building with only a couple of wrong turns, and then he headed out of the White Tower grounds altogether. Without a conscious decision, he soon found himself at the north-eastern bridge. The bridge leading to the eastern bank of River Erinin, and the village of Lugagde.
The guards at the bridge gave him a sharp look but made no move to stop him as he walked past them. Cold wind tossed his hair to his face and tugged at his coat, the air held a hint of the oncoming winter. The cold didn’t bother Logain, but he walked briskly regardless as he crossed the long bridge. The village of Lugagde was asleep, with only a couple of solitary guards patrolling the streets with hooded lanterns. Logain slipped past them quite effortlessly with a simple illusion, and then he was out of the village and came to the field where Taim and his men were camped. The black tents were in precise rows and a handful of men in black uniforms were standing guard at the edges of the camp. Logain knew better than to try getting past them unnoticed, they had probably felt his channelling already, and so he dropped the illusion at a respectful distance and released saidin.
“Identify yourself!” one of the guards demanded and stepped forward. Logain thought he recognised the voice but couldn’t summon the name to go with it from his memory.
“I am Logain,” he said in a clear voice. “I come alone.”
Another one of the guards channelled a light, and Logain could finally see the guards’ faces and the blue-and-silver lightning pins on their collars that marked them as Taim’s men. Otherwise their uniforms were identical to those of the Asha’man, but instead of the sword or the Dragon pins they wore the lightning; Logain wasn’t sure what it was supposed to symbolise, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“State your business,” the same guard who had first spoken said in a hard voice.
“I am here to speak with-” Logain realised somewhat belatedly that he had no idea what title Taim used these days. “-to speak with Taim.” Light, what had he been thinking, coming here in the middle of the night? Just because he couldn’t sleep didn’t mean he had any right to interrupt Taim’s much needed rest. “If he is awake. No need to wake him on my account. Ah, it can wait until morning.”
The guards seemed to agree with him. “This is not exactly the hour to be-” one began, but was cut off when a familiar voice spoke behind them.
“That will be enough, Altair, I’ll take it from here.” Taim strode out of the darkness and the two guards saluted briskly. “Return to your duties,” Taim continued, then gestured at Logain. “You may as well come with me since you’re here.”
Logain followed him to the biggest tent in the centre of the camp. Its interior was divided in two with a curtain of heavy, dark blue cloth. The first part of the tent held a desk littered with maps and what looked like letters, a folding chair, and a smaller table that held a pitcher of wine and a single glass. Despite there being enough space for it, there was no second chair. The message was clear; anyone who came in, made their report or stated their business standing. Taim gestured at the chair, and after a moment’s hesitation, Logain sat. Taim poured wine and handed him the glass, then cleared a space on the edge of the desk and sat there himself.
“Technically it might be ‘tomorrow’ already, but I must say I was thinking of the morning what I said we could talk more,” Taim said conversationally as Logain drained the wine.
“Yes,” Logain replied, mildly embarrassed. “I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
Taim waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “No need to apologise.” He took the glass from Logain, refilled it and drank half of the contents in one go. “I don’t think anyone’s sleeping well tonight.” He gave Logain an evaluating look. “You look better, though.”
“I feel better, too,” Logain said. “And… you? Have you slept at all?”
Taim arched an eyebrow, then shook his head with a grimace. “Too much to do,” he said in a voice that didn’t quite manage to reach the attempted lightness. “Too much to… to think about.” He drained the glass and poured another one. “I should have another glass here somewhere but I appear to have misplaced it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Logain said, a bit awkwardly. “I probably shouldn’t be drinking, anyway.” He didn’t add and neither should you, but from the look Taim gave him he could see that the other man had heard it regardless. There was something strangely heartbreaking about the wry almost-smile as Taim brought the glass to his lips again and drank deeply. “Well, that’s one way to do it,” Logain muttered. “Drinking until you pass out.”
“That would take somewhat more wine than I have left here, I’m afraid,” Taim replied; his tone suggested that he wished it was otherwise.
Logain let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I think you should just try to sleep. I’ll leave so you can… I shouldn’t have come in the first place…” He stood up - the chair folded and fell to the tent floor - and started towards the doorway, when Taim grasped his arm. He stopped and turned to find the other man right before him. Logain’s heart skipped a beat as Taim raised his other hand to rest on his shoulder. And then - he wasn’t sure which of them made the first move; he thought it might have been himself - he was being kissed very thoroughly, passionately, fiercely, and he was returning the kiss with equal ferocity.
A moment later his brain caught up with what was happening and he pulled back, bewildered and breathless. Taim didn’t protest, merely looked at him with a question in his eyes. “What… exactly are we doing?” Logain asked, wincing as he heard the quaver in his voice. Light, but he didn’t want to stop!
“Wasting time talking, it seems to me,” Taim replied smoothly, but his voice sounded slightly unsteady as well.
But it didn’t seem anywhere near that simple to Logain. “Do you even-” He didn’t finish the question; do you even like me? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. He was increasingly sure it didn’t matter. He tried another approach. “Are you sure you’re not just drunk and going to regret this in the morning?”
Taim made an impatient sound. “I’m going to make you regret it if you don’t shut up right now and-”
Logain cut him off by kissing him again.
Later - how much later, Logain couldn’t tell - they lay in a tangle of limbs and sheets on the bed in the other part of the tent behind the curtain. Logain half-heartedly considered getting up and getting dressed but the thought was not particularly enticing. Especially as he thought back to the lumpy mattress on the floor in the empty room in the barracks and compared it to the soft bed he was currently in. Especially as, judging by his breathing, Taim was finally drifting off to sleep, which he sorely needed and Logain didn’t want to disturb him. Especially as nobody had ever made him feel like he felt right now, holding his former nemesis in his arms.
The world was going to have a fit. There was no way it would remain a secret that Logain had spent the night in Mazrim Taim’s tent. That kind of rumours just had a way of spreading like wildfire.
But after a moment he decided he didn’t care. The world could burn - Light, it already was burning so what was the harm?
With that thought, Logain closed his eyes and gave in to the exhaustion that the couple of hours of sleep earlier hadn’t been enough to completely dispel, and fell asleep.