#blue ajah for life

[wheeloftimedevourer]

the level of my ferality towards siuanraine is insane i may start a cult anytime soon.

[markantonys]

it's interesting that in the coup it's framed largely as the young trainees taking elaida's side vs. the older warders taking siuan's (though i'm sure there was some mixing and it wasn't a 100% clear-cut division, especially since plenty of older warders would've sided with elaida because their aes sedai did). the ages feel significant to me, because it feels like the kind of thing where the younglings are doing what's right in a by-the-book way (upholding tower law by preventing the jailbreak of a legally-deposed* amyrlin) because they are too young and too inexperienced with the world to be ready to question authority or see potential nuance in a situation. it's the older warders who are able to think "hmmm, this may technically be legal but it still doesn't feel right" because they have the life experience to know that tower law and aes sedai are not infallible and can make mistakes or act out of shady motives. whereas the younglings are still in the early phase of trusting the tower as an institution 100% no matter the situation (which we see later on too, when gawyn is growing disillusioned with elaida/the tower but knows he can't voice this to any of the other younglings because they'd kill him for being a traitor to the tower).

this makes me curious about the novices and accepted. i think some fled with the rebels since i remember nynaeve and elayne needing to teach classes in salidar, but how did that happen? was it only a small minority of blue-leaning students who went, or was it a more even split? i suppose that aes sedai students may have had more direct interaction with siuan and/or elaida and more opinions on the blue and red ajahs than warder trainees and so maybe they were more likely to have personal reasons for choosing one side over the other, while the warder trainees kinda defaulted to Tower Law As Written since they were pretty far removed from the politics & emotions of elaida deposing siuan (bar gawyn who did have plenty of direct interaction with both, which made him predisposed to trust elaida and distrust siuan).

*siuan was not legally deposed, but i don't think anybody fully realizes that until much later when they find out that some of the sitters who voted against her were black ajah. on the day of the coup, most inhabitants of the white tower have little to no reason to doubt the legality of the deposition; at most they would have a Bad Feeling about it but no real evidence that it was illegal.

[deeplyridiculouslyinlove]

I’m obsessed with the idea that Moiraine maybe sort of uses a Blue Ajah compulsion-light weave on Rand and Mat the first time they meet her.

“Embracing the Source, [Moiraine] wove Spirit in one of the Blue’s secret weaves and touched the innkeeper with it. Slight anticipation became definite unease. “Are you certain the young woman meets my description exactly?” she asked, and tightened the weave a fraction. Sweat appeared on Mistress Satarov’s forehead. “Are you absolutely certain?” Another tightening, and an edge of fear appeared in the woman’s eyes. . . .

“Drink,” Moiraine commanded, tightening the weave to just short of panic. Trembling, Mistress Satarov was unable to break free from her gaze. “Drink it all.”

Still staring into Moiraine’s eyes, the woman raised the mug unsteadily to her mouth, and her throat worked convulsively as she swallowed. Abruptly, her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing, and with a cry she flung the mug away in a spray of wine.”

- New Spring, Chapter 23 (“The Evening Star”)

“She smiled, and Rand found himself wondering if there was anything he might do for her. Something that would give him an excuse to stay near her. He knew she was smiling at all of them, but it seemed meant for him alone. It really was just like seeing a Gleeman’s tale come to life. Mat had a foolish grin on his face.”

- The Eye of the World, Chapter 2 (“Strangers”)

[moiraineology]

Hi ❤️ I was wondering, how did you like New Spring if you've finished reading it?

Personally I think it was a great choice to read it even before getting into the Eye of the World and I enjoyed all the details about Moiraine, Siuan and Lan's backgrounds/relationships. It made reading EotW even a little easier to me. The only complain I have is that it was too short 🥲

BTW do you have any favorite parts that you'd like to see as flashbacks on the show?! I would love to get a scene of Moiraine and Lan meeting for the first time or their first bonding!

Oh no! I am so, so sorry for not replying sooner. I really didn't mean to leave you hanging. I was excited to receive this question, and then neglected to respond for...two weeks? Oh boy. I apologize.

I did truly love New Spring. Ripped through it in a couple of days over my reading break (a highlight!). I actually totally agree with you re: reading order. I'm not particularly stringent about that in any case, but I say, if you most ardently adore enjoy a character, just dive in and read everything ever directly written about them :D

It has now been a while since I read it, but I think that most of all I appreciated these very flawed, smart, and funny characters it brought to life. I've mentioned this before in a post, but I'll say it again as many times as possible: I love (love! LOVE) Mo's social ineptitude. Or at least that she treats most social interactions like a dramatic performance, where she has to put on a certain face based on her training and her upbringing. I find the part of the book where she learns about power structures in the Blue Ajah, and the fact that she picks up on this complicated dance of deference and authority that someone (Eadyth?) must then explain verbally, to be incredibly moving. Who among us hasn't felt the temperature of an intricate web of social relations, not natural but cultural (or maybe a combination of the two, where difference is felt and ostracized accordingly, sometimes in a very insidious and subtle way) and been utterly confused, and wished that someone would just explain what the fuck is going on between people? All of this says a lot about her background: culture, class, and also her particular brand of neurosis. I find it very endearing and more relatable than I care to admit (outside of this space). Yeah, also I think she's autistic. I'm nd as all hell and I think so, so it must be true.

Also, I love that we get mean Mo. Impatient Mo. Stubborn, obstinate, and immature Mo. She really did grow up with Lan. I think that's gorgeous. These two are actually kids when they meet, and then it's just them for 20 years on the road, and they learn to be PEOPLE, and to not communicate, and to fulfil the roles that are required of them/all that their duty really entails/how to navigate the politics of their world. Just the two of them. I would kill for flashbacks to times after they initially bonded, and how they were able to grow so close after a rather sticky beginning. I think the answer lies in the empathy that is inherent in a bond. Lan sees Mo as a stubborn child, but when he finally feels the fear and doubt and uncertainty she struggles with every day... a child doesn't normally feel those things. She struggles with the weight of the responsibility that has suddenly been thrust upon her, a responsibility that, to her great credit, she approaches bravely and willingly. Mo, too, can't stand Lan at first (I personally think she is jealous of his gravitas and his calm: we know she wants to be that way, but can't yet. Not until she grows up a little more), but she will soon meet the man who has been raised from birth to be the king of a nation that no longer exists. And what that does to a person. And exactly why Lan must be the way that he is (and how much she can learn from him). Also, I actually cried laughing and just gleefully clapped and giggled when Mo was pranking Lan and her inner voice was just...so conniving and sneaky and clever. "He would meet the wasps in perfect health." I genuinely think it's the funniest line ever written (perhaps that says more about my dumb sense of humour than RJ's comedic ability, but to his credit, he is really fucking funny sometimes).

And I can't end my little rant without talking about Siuan. I so appreciated the chance to get to know this character, who is introduced so beautifully to us in the show at the height of her power. As someone who is more than a little bossy, strategic, and clever, and who is very accustomed to being in control of a room. I love seeing what that looks like in a young person. She has the confidence, personality, and work ethic, but not yet the experience to be an effective leader. However, she leads Moiraine. And Moiraine likes it and she lets her. Again, relatable. More than I care to admit outside of this space. I also am fascinated by the cultural and class differences between the two women. The qualities they share (curiosity, drive, ambition, and so, so much integrity) are almost outweighed by those differences (Siuan is measured where Mo is impulsive, Siuan is frugal where Mo spends lavishly, Siuan is irreverent and unconstrained by the expectations of her rank, while Mo is and has always been bound by them). It's cool to see how they change one another. And the ways in which they remain unchanged into adulthood. Right up until we meet them together in the show. Also I think it's really fucking cute that Moiraine wanted to sugar momma Siuan so bad that she tried to buy her a horse. Who?? among us?? hasn't lived that fantasy?? No? Just me? (I would love to sugar momma my baby girl, if only I had the means).

Will you tell me what you thought about it, too? I would love to hear all of your thoughts. What would you like to see explored in the show?

Thank you so much for your thoughtful asks. I love answering them, even when I take too long.

[skyholly]

The best kept secret

Summary: What if Moiraine had a baby daughter she and Siuan were forced to leave to Anvaere to raise as her own?

moiraine/siuan

***************

Chapter 1. Guinevere

Ever since she was a young girl, Guinevere often found herself staring into the painting in the salon. It almost felt like looking into a mirror. The same brown hair, if anything a shade darker than her own, the same blue eyes, the same unreadable expression. She was lucky, her mother always told her, that she had taken after her aunt, for she had always been the more beautiful out of the two sisters. Yet Guinevere had no way of knowing if that was true, since she had seen her aunt but once in her nineteen years of life, and that encounter had happened so long ago they might as well be complete strangers. The only thing she held of hers was a small, sapphire stone that Moiraine had sent to Cairhien as a gift to her when she was born.

She was twelve years of age when her parents made the decision of sending her to Tár Valon, after years of showing channelling abilities. Little Guinevere had been so nervous about starting her training in the White Tower, leaving Cairhien, and her family behind. 

“Do not worry sister,” her older brother, Barthanes, had told her in an attempt to calm her down, “Aunt Moiraine will be there. She’ll take care of you.” 

Had Guinevere been any older, she would’ve been wise enough to doubt such promise, since her brother often found his judgement clouded by the love he held for a once present, loving aunt that was no more; but little naive Guinevere had grown up hearing his stories about their valiant, funny, immensely powerful aunt, so that unacquainted and mysterious figure she’d seen only in paintings that resembled her so much became her guardian during the years she spent within the Shining Walls, or so had Guinevere hoped. It would be an understatement to say she was disappointed. 

Moiraine never set foot in the Tower during the years Guinevere spent training, as she clung to the little blue stone that reminded her she once had cared for her. Guinevere knew the Blues spent lots of time outside the Tower, gathering information and strengthening their webs, but she didn’t know of another Aes Sedai who walked the halls so infrequently as her aunt, and she never built up enough courage to ask her superiors about her. 

It was by chance one day that she found out the older woman had in fact visited the Tower every couple of years, but had simply never bothered to look for her, to meet her. That revelation changed everything she used to believe about the older Aes Sedai. Guinevere didn’t allow herself to feel hurt, shut her pain away, choosing instead to match Moiraine’s indifference. She put any thoughts of her aunt aside, and focused on her studies at the White Tower. It soon became apparent she wasn’t as powerful as she was skillful and efficient, tremendously so, with an almost unmatched Talent for Healing, which managed to let her become a full Aes Sedai in under six years. By the time it came to choosing her Ajah, Moiraine was mostly out of her mind, and the only thing she looked forward to was coming back home to her family. 

She didn’t feel upset when her aunt failed to show up when she predictably chose Yellow as the colour of her shawl, she expected it as much, for she had abandoned the idea of meeting her a long time ago. She spoke with the leader of her Ajah, the First Weaver, and due to her young age she was allowed to spend half the year pursuing her studies in Tár Valon and the other half in Cairhien, helping out in the Sanitarium, aiding anyone in need. That’s what she did during her first year as an Aes Sedai; and for the most of it, she was happy about it. As much as she enjoyed learning, studying the intricate weaves her superiors were able to channel, it always was a bittersweet feeling, leaving home with the prospect of spending six months within those Shining Walls, where everyone turned around for a second look at her, because they still couldn’t believe the uncanny resemblance she had to her aunt. Guinevere started to believe it was more of a curse than a blessing, as her mother wanted her to believe. 

Guinevere was staring deeply into the portrait, all of her bags spread at her feet, when her mother walked into the room. The girl didn��t even hear the older woman entering the room, entranced as she was. She wasn’t staring completely in awe, as she once used to, but with a hint of resentment as well. 

“The carriage is ready, darling.” Anvaere announced, stilling at the sight of the girl, who was aimlessly gazing at the painting in the wall. She ought to have gotten rid of that portrait long ago; it was too big a distraction, too big a risk for Guinevere. She should’ve threw it away the moment she started asking questions. Who is she? Why does she look so much like me? Where is she?

“I’ll be right there, mother.” Guinevere said, allowing herself one more second of staring before turning her gaze away from the picture and smiling at the woman in front of her, as Johnas picked up her bags and carried them outside. “I’ll miss you. And tell Barthanes I’ll miss him too. Dearly.”

“I’ll miss you too, dearest.” Her mother answered, embracing her, and leaving a kiss on the girl’s temple. On her daughter’s temple. That is what she had become the second Moiraine placed the whimpering baby in her arms, and that is what she would always be to her, no matter which secrets the Light forbade ever came out. Her daughter. “Don’t forget to write, regularly, alright?” 

“Oh, I’ll send you so many letters you’ll get sick of them, I promise.” She giggled, stepping into the carriage. “You’ll need to get a second pair of eyes just to get through them all!” 

Good weather and clear roads made for a swift and quiet travel and Guinevere found herself back in Tár Valon quicker than she would’ve imagined. She was received by Lowie, her best friend and an Aes Sedai from the Green Ajah, upon her arrival. She was a tall, charming girl with a carefree personality and eyes that exuded both braveness and kindness, and, most importantly, she was her same very young age. Some Aes Sedai found it weird, almost scandalous, that they were so close even though they were from different Ajahs, but being the two youngest ones training in the Tower had bonded them together tight enough to neglect the place’s principles. 

“Winnie!” The red haired girl yelled, throwing herself onto her. Guinevere instantly stiffed at her touch, before easing into her embrace. “Hi Lowie,” she smiled back, “long time no see.” 

“You have no idea of the things you’ve missed.” Lowie gasped, dramatically emphasising words, as she helped her friend carry her bags. 

Guinevere held back a small smile as she followed the girl into her abandoned chambers. She didn’t really care much for the Tower’s politics and preferred to focus on her duties and studies, but she knew how much her friend loved to gossip. “Then please, fill me in,” she said with a grin, grabbing her friend’s arm and pulling her down onto the bed. A cloud of dust rose around them as they landed.

“Burn me, you really need to come here more often.”

With Lowie by her side and a thousand tasks a day to get done, Guinevere eased into her normal routine once again, and wearisome days became tedious weeks which became monotonous months. Everything was alright. That was until Lowie barged into her room one drowsy afternoon, eyes wide as plates and a hand resting on her agitated chest. 

"What is it?" Guinevere asked, opening her eyes. She had a shift at the infirmary that night and was trying to get some rest, but she tensed at the sight of her friend, all the fatigue leaving her body. "Rowena?"

"They’re bringing the False Dragon into the city..." her friend said, breathing heavily.

Guinevere held back a bitter smile. “And?” She asked, about to get mad at her friend for disturbing her with such nonsense. 

Lowie slowly walked towards her, and sat alongside her in the bed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “... Gwen, your aunt is here, she’s been called for an audience in the Hall.” 

Guinevere’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of her aunt, but she didn’t let that show on her face. “I’m far too busy to care about any of those things, Lowie,” she remarked, with a pinch of resentment in her voice. The Light knew she had more important duties to attend to than some mad man and a woman she’s never seen in her life, “besides, I have twelve hours duties at the infirmary, starting tonight.” 

Rowena stared at her friend, already used to her choosing indifference as her preferred shield against pain, but didn’t comment on it. The few times they discussed such topics, it had never ended well. 

“Then at least let me accompany you to the infirmary,” Lowie begged, changing the subject, “maybe we’ll get to see Logain on our way there.” 

“Fine,” Guinevere sighed, reluctantly standing up and putting on some clothes. A simple yellow dress and a comfortable, just the right amount of worn shoes. “I guess we can try that. Though I doubt we can even get a glimpse of him, the streets ought to be crammed.” But her complaints didn’t matter to Lowie, who grabbed her friend’s hand and led her outside the Tower into the busy streets of the city. Guinevere had seen the city in frenzies before, whether it was due to the Daughter-Heir visiting the tower or Queen Morgase herself, but she’d never seen the city bustling the way it did that day.

The two girls started pushing themselves toward the edge of the crowd so Lowie could get a good look at the False Dragon. “Winnie, there he is!” She squealed, but her voice got lost in a chorus of screams. Guinevere tried tiptoeing to get a better sight of him, but something else entirely caught her attention. Up there in one of the buildings facing the main street, two boys were sitting on the ledge of a window on the second floor, smiling down at all the commotion below them. They were both around her age, but it was the red-haired one who captured her eye. He seemed tall, had a lean build, and was wearing a blue shirt, with a heron-marked sword around his hips. He looked down to scan the streets and accidentally locked eyes with her.

Guinevere felt the air catch in her throat, and time seemed to stand still. Those blue eyes, the curve of his smile, the arch of his nose. She’d never met that boy, but somehow she knew him. It felt as if she’d always known him, impossible as it was. Like she had met him in a dream she’d never actually dreamt. She couldn’t draw her gaze away from him, hard as she tried, and neither could he; for a moment, it felt as if he were on the brink of jumping down to the street to get to her, and with that image alone, she felt compelled to run across the mob just to meet him. The intensity of such a thought scared her so much she turned around and hurried toward the infirmary, trying not to dwell on how the face of a stranger could somehow be so familiar to her.

The place was immersed in chaos, there were a dozen different patients in need of care, and very few yellow sisters to aid them. 

“Guinevere.” She was commanded by a fellow sister, Myria, a quiet, reserved, and to the point kind of woman. “There are two who need your help, they’re in that room at the back, and be discreet about it. Come back as soon as you’re done with them, we’re expecting a particularly busy night. It’s a matter of time before all this celebration turns into trouble.” 

“Discreet?” Guinevere thought, perplexed. “I will, sister.” She said nonetheless, and walked towards the almost hidden room across a series of sinuous hallways. She silently opened the door, and immediately understood the Aes Sedai’s orders. It was obvious to anyone’s eye that the two kids waiting in the room weren’t from Tár Valon, and with just a quick glance at their wounds, she could tell they had come across… an unusual kind of trouble. The girl, who she guessed was approximately her own age, had little more than bruises and some cuts around her face, but the man laying almost unconscious in the bed had some terrible lacerations all over his naked back. 

“Hello, my name is Guinevere,” she introduced herself, making her way towards them, “I’ll be healing you both today. Could you tell me what happened?” She asked the girl, as she pointed with her head towards the boy. 

“I-I’m Egwene,” the girl stuttered, “and this is Perrin. We had an unfortunate… encounter with some Whitecloaks I’m afraid.” 

“I see.” Guinevere nodded, allowing herself to scan the girl one more time before turning her attention towards the man named Perrin, who had more urgent wounds to attend to. She kneeled beside the cot and delicately ran her fingers along his back, feeling the degree of mangling and tearing of the skin. It was the work of a blade that’d caused such abrasions. She closed her eyes and calmly filled her lungs with air, as she moved her hands in complex motions, pulling on intricate, twisting weaves that soon covered his body and began healing his injuries. The young man started grunting, his whole body shaking, as Healing could be a painful experience at times, and so Guinevere softly took him by the arm, closed her eyes, and drove his heart rate down enough so that he drifted into a peaceful, painless, slumber. That was a Talent of hers. At first everyone assumed it was Cardiac Arrest, but soon enough she found out she could not only stop a man’s heart, but manipulate heart rates up and down as she pleased. 

“What did you do?!” Egwene asked, worried about her friend, and yet with a begrudging hint of curiosity in her voice, looking at her hands as if she were trying to decipher which particular movements had pulled on them. 

“I just helped calm him down.” Guinevere replied, with a sober expression on her face. Using such Talent took a great deal of focus and serenity, for the consequences of using it hastily could have mortal consequences. “He’ll be alright,” she added, watching the weaves clear his back from any visible trauma, “but he’ll need lots of rest, and food, once he wakes up. Healing draws on a lot of energy.” She explained, feeling a bit lightheaded herself. 

“Thank you,” the girl sighed, taking him by the hand, as if checking he was indeed away from harm, “I was so preoccupied.” 

“I can imagine,” Guinevere said, finally drawing her attention towards her. There was something special about the girl, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Do you want me to heal these?” She asked her, tenderly brushing her fingers against the bruises on her face. “They seem painful. And it won’t hurt as much as it hurt him.” 

Egwene stared at her for a moment, and then slowly nodded, holding back tears. Damn those barbaric, fundamentalists Whitecloacks. Attacking her sisters was already unforgivable, but torturing townspeople as well? And the worse of it, they excused all of their actions with the facade of walking in the Light. Guinevere pursed her lips, and pulled on some simpler weaves to heal her. And then it became obvious. The way her body eased into the One Power, how easy she embraced her Healing, how fast her bruising disappeared, how painless it seemed for her. She was no regular townswoman. 

“You can channel.” Guinevere suddenly found herself mumbling under her breath. “Why are you here? Who brought you two here?” She asked, and she knew it was incautious of her, and that she was neglecting direct orders, but she didn’t seem able to get a hold of her tongue. 

Egwene shifted uncomfortably in her place, as if deciding on whether to tell her, whether she deemed her trustworthy or not. Finally, she opted for the first one. “We’re looking for Moiraine.” She said with boldness, as if talking about an old friend, before regaining awareness of who she was talking to. “T-That is, Moiraine Sedai, of course. Is she here, in the Tower?” 

Had Guinevere felt surprised by the mention of the older Aes Sedai, she didn’t let it show on her face. Of course I was asked to be discreet, they’re Moiraine’s. She couldn’t help but to leapt into an activity she thought long forgotten: trying to make sense of her aunt’s absence from the Tower. “Is this what she’s been doing this whole time? Recruiting girls with the ability to channel?” But that wouldn’t explain the boy, or the fact that she hadn’t brought any girl in the years Guinevere spent training. “How do you know Moiraine?” She inquired, raising an eyebrow. 

“We travelled all the way here with her,” Egwene was quick to answer, fearing the Yellow Sister didn’t believe their connection with the elusive Aes Sedai, “she seeked us. We got separated on the way here, but if Moiraine is here she should be expecting us, and rather keenly I believe. If there’s a way for you to let her know we are here, I’d really appreciate it.” 

“Mmh.” Guinevere hummed, turning to face the door. Was that bitterness showing on her face? Jealousy, perhaps? “You’ll both be fine,” she said, over her shoulder, “other sisters should come up to check on you regularly, and make sure to eat, you’ll find lots of food in the cabinet to your left.” 

“T-thank you.” Egwene said, but Guinevere was halfway through the door already. She spent the rest of the night getting on with her tasks as if nothing had happened, ignoring the pain on her chest, the feeling of nausea on her stomach.

That night, the nightmare found her in her sleep once again. 

Guinevere seldomly dreamt, but whenever she did, it was always the same nightmare, ever since she could remember: three little kids screaming in agony, and she couldn’t save them. In the dream they were hers, and they kept on calling for her, for their mother, but Guinevere couldn’t save them. Never.

She woke up with a scream stuck in her throat, the children’s screeches still ringing in her ears, heart pounding as if it were about to break through her chest, and immediately brought a hand to her forehead, in a clinical motion. “No fever,” she thought, “just a nightmare.” Guinevere leaned down towards her pillow once again, closing her eyes while trying to fix her breathing. “Just a nightmare.”  She wished she would have her little music box by her side, it always helped calm her down, but she had always been too afraid of taking it out of Caihrien, she couldn’t risk losing it since it didn’t even belong to her. 

Those nightmares were the reason she eluded sleep so much, often preferring to have Lowie remove her fatigue so she could get on with her duties. She looked up towards the window, slightly flinching her eyes at the pale ray of sunshine that peaked through the glass, and decided that if she wouldn’t fall back asleep, she might as well get ready for the day. She put on some simple clothes, combed her hair into a practical bun, and left her room. She walked across the corridor that led into the Hall of the Tower, and by the amount of both Aes Sedai and Warders that were anxiously waiting just outside the enormous door she could only assume Logain’s trial was taking place inside. She stopped for a moment, meditating on whether she wanted to stick around for the outcome or not, but the unwavering stare of one of the Warders on her made her lean for the latter. 

He was a tall, brooding man, holding a guarded stance, with his long hair pulled away from his face, held back by a leather headband. His deep brown eyes and stoic face were fixed on her, which made her feel unnerved. She subtly glanced at his swords, at his clothes, at his almost royal demeanour he so obviously tried to hide, and the pieces began to fall together. There was only one warder in the world who could master such a stance, who could claim the title of Lord of the Seven Towers, the uncrowned king of Malkier. Al’Lan Mandragoran. He was Moiraine’s Warder. Which meant her aunt was most probably in there as well. The thought of Moiraine being so close, yet still so distant, gnawed at her. 

The doors suddenly opened, and a figure dressed in royal blue came rushing out of them. Guinevere didn’t need to look twice to know who it was, she felt it, like a weave of electric, yet gentle power reaching her side. She was torn between turning around and forcing her eyesight steady, finally looking at her, and running as far as she could from her. Suddenly, she felt another gaze fall upon her, a much too heavy one, and she winced on the spot, as she started backing away, leaving the Tower, absentmindedly bumping against random citizens on her way towards the infirmary. 

She avoided sleep that night. In fact, she took every shift available, night and day, and it wasn’t until two full days after the audience had taken place that she returned to the Tower. By that time her aunt was gone, once again. 

“She’s been exiled,” Lowie explained to her, theatrically placing a hand over her heart, as Guinevere plummeted into bed, “it was awful. I wasn’t inside the Hall, but even in the corridor we all had to turn our backs to her. I don’t think she’ll ever be able to return.” 

“Mmh.” Guinevere hummed, forcing her eyes shut. She couldn’t truly bring herself not to care about that, but she tried her best. “One more month, and you can get home. One month. And you can reunite with your family, your pianoforte, your paintings. One more month.”  And so she endured that month, trying not to panic at the whispers of Moiraine travelling with a male channeler, of Moiraine searching for the Dragon Reborn, of Moiraine being a Darkfriend, of Moiraine presumably having died at Fal Dara. 

She had already finished packing her bags, and was ready to head home, when someone knocked at her door. 

“Yes?” Guinevere asked, greeting whoever was outside. To her surprise, it was the girl she’d healed some time ago, the one who had been looking for Moiraine. “Egwene?” She asked, confused. 

“Guinevere Sedai,” the girl saluted her, bowing her head. Guinevere tilted her head to get a better look at her, and was happy to see her on a plain, white dress. 

“I see you’ve become a Novice,” she commented, a genuine smile on her face, “that’s good. I was expecting you’d join the Tower, eventually.” 

“Yes, Guinevere Sedai—

“Please, just call me Gwen.” 

“Alright… Gwen,” she added, still slightly unsure, “it's been almost a month since I’ve signed the books of Novices.” 

“Oh.” Guinevere lowered her gaze to her feet, ashamed. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been paying that much attention to the events of the Tower.” 

Egwene directed a sympathetic smile towards her, while anxiously fidgeting with the hem of her sleeves. “Yes, anyhow,” the girl shifted uncomfortably on her spot, “I was sent here to give you a message.”

“And what could that message be?” She asked, amused. 

Egwene cleared her throat, placing her hands over her skirts and then pulling them back, as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “The Amyrlin is expecting you,” she finally exhaled, “in her chambers.” 

“I see.” Guinevere replied, her smile pursing into a thin line, perplexed as she wondered what could the Amyrlin possibly want to discuss with her, only that it couldn’t be good. Most of the women in the Tower were probably already commenting on it. Egwene nodded reluctantly, and turned to walk away, but Guinevere stopped her. 

“Wait,” she said, delicately touching the girl’s shoulder, turning her around, “I have a question for you, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Anything.” 

“What happened to your friend? And why aren’t you with Moiraine anymore? I’ve heard some rumours about the Borderlands and problems there—

Egwene held her gaze, soft and apprehensive, before lowering her head. “I don’t think I can talk about it.”

“My last name is Damodred,” Guinevere rushed to confess, grabbing the blue stone attached to her necklace from below her shirt to show it to her, as if to prove her statement, “Moiraine is my aunt. Please, I’m just concerned.” Well, that’s not entirely a lie. I am concerned for her. I am simply more concerned about what she’s been up to all this time. “And I couldn’t lie, even if I wanted to.” 

“Oh, I do believe you’re her niece,” Egwene said, studying her face, “you look just like her, just younger. But I- I really think I can’t talk about it, Moiraine was very clear about that.” 

“Look, Egwene” Guinevere said, approaching the girl, tenderly grabbing the girl’s hands. Had Egwene been more trained in the One Power, she would’ve been able to notice the warmth that suddenly spread through her body, easing her into Guinevere’s touch, loosening her tongue. She’d promised to never use such Talent, she’d be expelled from the Tower if anyone ever found out she did, and she truly felt terrible about doing it to Egwene, but she really was desperate. “Whatever she’s said to you, whatever you’ve done with her, whatever… secret she’s asked you to keep, it’s safe with me. I’d never do anything that hurt her.”

Egwene placidly smiled at her, “it’s a long story,” she said, timidly giggling, her cheeks flushing, but still determined not to tell her. It seems I’ve underestimated how powerful she is. 

“Then it’s a good thing the Amyrlin chambers are so far away, isn’t it?” Guinevere studied Egwene's face, seeing a flicker of hesitation cross her eyes. Guinevere tightened her grip on the girl’s hand, as she finally nodded, seemingly accepting Guinevere’s faux sincerity. She intertwined their arms, and together, they walked down the long corridors of the White Tower. 

“It started in the Two Rivers,” Egwene began quietly, as they passed a group of novices practising their weaves. “Moiraine came to our village. She was looking for someone... someone who could be the Dragon Reborn. There were five of us who could channel or had some connection to the One Power. Trollocs and other monsters were following us, and she said we needed to get to Tár Valon; we had some troubles getting here, but then, when we finally arrived, something changed. I don’t know… she said an opportunity to defeat the Dark One had arisen, and suddenly she was taking us to Fal Dara, to the Eye of the World.”

Guinevere kept an impassive expression on her face, impossible as it felt, as the world seemed to shift beneath her feet. Finally, she’d gotten some answers. It made so much sense. All those years… Moiraine had been looking for the Dragon Reborn. But why? Why didn’t she look for me the few times she’d return to the Tower?

“You went through the Blight?” Guinevere asked, shocked. Egwene eagerly nodded at her. “And what happened there?”

“I-I don’t know.” The girl said, eyes full of tears too stubborn to actually fall through her cheeks. “We were all supposed to face the Eye of the World together, but… I don’t know. One morning Moiraine and one of the boys had left, and then she came back alone, and refused to talk to us about what had happened there. Moiraine was… different, somehow, I couldn’t tell you what. She ordered Nynaeve and me to come here to become novices, and I don’t know exactly what she told Perrin, but he stayed at Fal Dara. She accompanied us here halfway and then parted ways, and I haven’t heard from her or Lan ever since.”

“I’m so sorry about your friend.” Guinevere said, voice laced with genuine compassion.  

“Thank you, Gwen.” Egwene had stopped in her tracks, fixing her gaze on her, brushing a tear off her face. Guinevere felt terrible. One more thing. One more thing and you let her go. 

“Egwene,” she said, resuming their walk, “do you happen to know why Moiraine knew she had to look for all of you?” 

Egwene had opened her mouth to respond, but a voice in front of them interrupted them. “Guinevere Sedai, the Amyrlin has been expecting you.” A thin, nearly as tall as a man, very beautiful woman was standing stiffly in front of a big, resplendent pair of doors. They’d reached the Amyrlin’s chambers. 

“Of course, Leane Sedai.” Guinevere said, bowing her head, showing the Keeper of the Chronicles the respect she deserved. She swiftly turned towards Egwene, finally letting go of her arm, praying the superior in front of her didn’t notice the young girl’s body limping the slightest, and confusion taking over her expression.

“Thank you, Egwene, for accompanying me here. I’ll be gone for some months now, but I’ll make sure to help in anything I can once I get back. I wish you nothing but luck on your training.” 

The girl clumsily bowed to her, “I need to go, the Mistress of Novices is most probably looking for me,” and continued with her walk, disoriented. It’ll pass. She’ll be back to normal before anyone notices it. It’ll be like it never happened. I had to do it. There are no rules that prevent an Aes Sedai from lying to herself. 

Guinevere turned towards the stoic looking woman standing in front of her. “The Amyrlin will see you now.” 

Guinevere carefully adjusted her dress, before stepping inside the room. There, sitting on a cream coloured sofa, before a small table, was the Amyrlin Seat. 

“You summoned me, Mother?” Guinevere asked, bowing deeply. She then lifted her gaze, locking eyes with the older woman. With her luminous brown eyes, sharp as ever, yet laced with a subtle hint of weakness, and nostalgia. 

“Yes, Guinevere. Please, sit.” She said, gesturing towards the armchair in front of her. 

Guinevere complied, noting the uncharacteristic tension in Siuan’s posture. The Amyrlin was not known for her softness, but there was something different today, something personal.

The older woman stared at her expectantly, as if waiting for the young girl to confess first, but despite Guinevere’s distaste for credo, she knew how to play the game. Speak first, lose the high ground.

“You must be wondering why I called you in here.” Siuan finally said, her lips turning into a gentle smile. 

“I am, Mother,” she said, hesitantly nodding. 

“We can lose the honorifics, for today at least,” the woman commented, crossing one leg over the other, as she reclined into the armchair’s cushions, encouraging the girl to get comfortable as well. But Guinevere was far too anxious for that. She remained still, her back straight and hands rigidly intertwined over her lap. Why am I here? “I have a favour to ask of you, Guinevere.” 

She gulped. What? What could the Amyrlin Seat, a tremendously powerful Aes Sedai, who was once Blue herself, need of her? A teenage girl that avoided secrets, rumours and Tower’s politics like the plague? “A- A favour, Mother?” 

“Siuan.” The woman’s smile widened, as she drew closer to her. 

Guinevere blinked, still puzzled at the whole situation. “Siuan,” she echoed the older woman, “what is it that you need from me?” 

“It’s not really what I need from you,” the Amyrlin explained, her pacing slow, “but what I need from your last name. I gather you’re on your way home.”

“I am, I was about to leave the Tower when you called for me.” 

“Cairhien, that’s right?” 

“Yes.” 

Siuan Sanche pursed her lips, staring intensely into her, and opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it, as if she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to ask such a question. “Have you heard from Moiraine this past month?” She then asked, bluntly. 

Guinevere felt the temperature of the room drop, her eyes slightly narrowing at the mention of her aunt. “No.” She replied, dryly, as she lowered her gaze towards the rug. 

Her sudden change in demeanour didn’t go unnoticed by the older woman, who studied Guinevere’s face intensely, searching for what lay underneath. “You are angry at her.” She commented, sadness suddenly pouring into her eyes. 

Guinevere cleared her throat. “My feelings towards Moiraine Sedai are unbiased.” 

“You shouldn’t resent your aunt for her absence, Guinevere.” 

“And yet you exiled her for it.” How weird. She knew Siuan’s position as the Amyrlin grew weaker each day, but she couldn’t possibly imagine her feeling compelled into doing something she didn’t feel was right. She didn’t choose to exile Moiraine?. Maybe she was overrating her power. She was, after all, asking a teenage girl for help. 

Siuan started blinking in rapid motions, awkwardly resting her back against the armchair’s splat. She knew when she had been led into a corner. She’s so much like her mother, the woman thought, not being able to stop her mouth from turning into a sly grin, stubborn, and modestly yet fiercely witty. “I have a task for you.” 

“Whatever you need, Mother.” 

“If you hear from Moiraine, let me know.” 

Guinevere smirked back at the woman. “Shouldn’t Moiraine be the one expecting to hear from you?” She found her mouth saying, acting quicker than her brain, something that happened more often than she liked. The young girl knew she was crossing a line, she knew as much, but something told her the older woman wouldn’t reprimand her. As a matter of fact, she suspected she actually enjoyed it. But perhaps she had underestimated Siuan’s temper. 

She drew her smile back, and pursed her lips into a thin line. “That’ll be all, Daughter.” 

Guinevere hastily stood up, and bowed her head. “Mother.” She turned to leave, and as she was reaching for the doorknob, she heard the Amyrlin’s voice speak to her. 

“Oh, and Guinevere? Trust no one else. No intermediates.” 

A flicker of diversion crossed Guinevere’s eyes. Oh, did she have some puzzles to put together. “Of course, Mother.” 

Guinevere let out a sigh of relief when Johnas opened the door to her, and finally she was back home. She shook the older man’s hand, as she made her way inside the house. “It’s good to have you back, little lady.”

 “Gwen?” She heard a man’s voice come from across the hall. “Barthanes?” She asked, breaking into a run. She hastily opened the door to the dining room, and couldn’t help but to squeal in excitement. “Oh, it’s been so long, brother.” She smiled, as he embraced her. 

“I’ve missed you too, little sister.” He agreed, with a laugh. “Would you care for some tea? I’m afraid I have some business to attend to, letters and whatnot, but I can manage them while getting on with you.” He said, sitting back down at the breakfast table. “I trust your journey was uneventful?” 

“Uneventful and rapid,” Guinevere replied, taking a seat opposite him. She watched as he deftly opened a letter, his eyes scanning the contents before setting it aside. “How have things been here?”

“Quiet,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Mother has been busy with her social circles, and the city remains as it always has—full of whispers.”

Guinevere nodded, her thoughts drifting back to the Tower, to the unfamiliar faces she had healed, and the fleeting encounters that had stirred something within her. “And what of the Sun Palace? Any news from the court?”

Barthanes paused, folding his hands over the table. “Rumors, mostly. There's talk of unrest in the Borderlands, and whispers of the Dragon Reborn.” At the mention of such a character, he sent a curious look her way. “Nothing you haven’t most probably heard of already within the Tower.”

She had indeed, but nonetheless the mention of the Dragon Reborn sent a shiver down her spine. The face of that boy she’d seen on Tár Valon suddenly popped into her mind. “Do you believe it?” she asked quietly, meeting her brother's gaze. “That the Dragon has been reborn?” 

Her brother shifted uneasily on his seat, wetting his lips. “I truly don’t have time to dwell on such matters, sister.” He forced his lips into a stiff smile, as he started handling another envelope. “But what do you believe?” He inquired, with seeming indifference, but she could tell it was only a facade. She could sense his heart rate getting higher and higher. “What is it being said in the Tower anyway?” He added, shrugging his shoulders. 

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied, rather dryly, uncomfortable with where the conversation had led them, “I don’t like involving myself in such talks. Besides, even if I did know something, I wouldn’t be allowed to talk to you about it.” 

“Not even to your dear older brother?” He grinned, sending a charming smile her way, but she remained serious. “Anyway,” Barthanes stood up, picking up a stack of letters, “I’m afraid I must go, sister. Planning a wedding is much more work than you’d ever imagine.” 

She directed her brother a little smile before he left the room, leaving her alone, a waterfall of thoughts pouring into her mind. That’s the thing about Cairhien. Hard as you might try to avoid them, whispers and rumours always find a way of getting to you. 

Guinevere woke up early the next morning, had a quick breakfast, and ran towards the Sanatorium. She rushed through the Cairhien streets swiftly and with ease, her hometown’s display burned into her memory. 

She entered the structure, joyfully greeting the guard standing before the door, and started making her way through the halls. That’s when she saw him. 

The boy from Tár Valon. 

His hair was as red as she remembered, but short almost to his scalp. He stood taller than she’d imagined, at least a foot taller than her. And his face… the same face that had both tormented and bewitched her ever since she saw him, months ago. 

They locked gazes, eyes widening in surprise at finding each other, the same intense feeling flooding through their veins, but this time, no one ran away, quite the contrary. Guinevere started trotting towards him, and he did the same, until they were but inches away from each other. 

“You’re the girl from Tár Valon,” he gasped, out of breath.

“I-I guess I am.” She stuttered, finding herself suddenly overwhelmed by his presence. It felt so weird, meeting someone you’ve somehow known all your life for the first time. 

“I’m Rand.” He said, introducing himself, as he extended a hand towards her. 

“I’m Guinevere.” She replied, carefully slipping her hand into his. 

He gently closed his palm over hers, his skin warm and soft under his touch. “Hello, Guinevere.” He murmured, a tender smile on his face. 

“Hello, Rand.” She replied, shyly returning his smile. They remained like that, hands locked into each other, until she stepped a foot back, clearing her throat. 

“What are you doing here, if you don’t mind me asking?” Guinevere inquired, furrowing her brows. She’d never seen him in Cairhien before, she was sure of that. 

“I work here.” He explained, letting his arms fall against his body. “It was a last-minute decision.” 

“Oh.”

“What are you doing here?” 

“I’ve lived in Cairhien my whole life.” She replied, placing a hand against her chest. 

He softly laughed at that. “I meant in the Sanatorium.” 

“Ah,” she giggled, feeling her cheeks flush, “I work here as well. I mean, I help here,” she added, raising her left hand, where a ring with a small yellow stone rested in her middle finger, “I heal people. Or at least, I try my best.”

Slight and wary as it was, Guinevere noticed the hint of anger, and fright, that crossed the boy’s eyes at the sight of her ring. “You don’t like Aes Sedai?” 

Rand hesitated. “I respect Aes Sedai.” 

“That wasn’t my question.” She smiled. 

“I’m just cautious of them.” 

Guinevere stood straight, and folded her hands over her chest, as her smile turned into a grimace. “I’m afraid I’d be lying if I said you shouldn’t be.” 

They spent the following weeks working in the same place, and everyday their bond both grew stronger, and a genuine, and amusing friendship started to flourish between the two. Guinevere always had a witty, lively response to all of his foolish, friendly banter. He’d made a habit out of walking her home every day after their duties were done, and the journey always fell short for their discussions, so much so that sometimes they walked straight past her house, and made some more rounds, just so they could keep on each other’s company. He always talked about his home, his family, his friends, but for some reason he never mentioned names.Still, she never commented on it. She talked about her hobbies in music and painting, and her job as a healer, her duty towards the Tower. 

“I enjoy it, for the most of it.” She explained one day, as they made their way towards her house. “I love the healing part, at least, I like helping people. It’s all the current principles, and politics I despise— not that I think them inconsequential, it’s simply… out of my understanding. All this rivalry between the different Ajah, it makes no sense to me. I know they’re due to historical conflicts, but why do we let the past control us that much? I don’t know, I just think the Tower would work better without all the secrecy. To both our sisters and regular townsfolk, of course.”

“Most regular townsfolk despise the lot of you,” he commented, “Cairhien is like another world, too close to Tár Valon to notice it, but the farther you get from the city, the stronger the fear of Aes Sedai becomes.” 

“And that’s terrible!” Guinevere explained, aggrieved. “We should be the servants of all. The ones who help the world become a better place, for everyone alike. And yet it seems that as of lately we serve no one but ourselves.” She sighed, as they reached her house. Guinevere stopped in front of the door, expectantly looking at him. Everyday he accompanied her home, and yet he always refused to stay for a cup of tea. 

She knew he lived in the Foregate, and she knew firsthand how harsh it could get there, as she often liked to wander around it, aiding anyone who accepted her help, and so she had often offered Rand a warm bath, a warm meal, a warm bed, if he needed. But he had always refused all of it. That day he looked particularly shabby, and she could see traces of ash on parts of his skin and clothes. 

“Well,” he said, pursing his lips into a thin smile, “have a good night, Gwen.” 

“Wait!” She exclaimed, grabbing him from his arm before he could turn around. A splash of red started to paint her cheeks a burgundy colour, as she hadn’t planned on being so abrupt. She moved backwards, rising to his height as she settled on the first step of the stairs that led to her door. “Just… Why don’t you come in, for a cup of tea? I could lend you that book we were talking about.” 

He hesitated, lowering his gaze, and yet not letting go of her arm. “I-I can’t, Gwen.” 

“Why?” She breathed out. “If it’s my family you’re concerned about— they’re perfectly pleasant to be around. And my mother would be thrilled to have you over, maybe offer you a better place to stay—

“There’s someone else, Gwen.” He interrupted her, finally meeting her eyes, as sadness and regret took over his. “There’s this woman—

“Oh.” She couldn’t help but sigh, angry at her voice for betraying her by sounding so disappointed. Of course there’s another girl. She motioned to take her hand away, but that only caused to tighten his grip on hers. He took a step closer to her, mouths one breath away from one another. 

“It’s not like that,” he muttered, cursing under his breath, “burn me, it’s difficult to explain, I-I just owe her so much, I-I can’t… you…

“It’s fine, Rand.” Guinevere murmured, as she softly caressed the palm of his hand. “I understand.” 

“You do?” He asked, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Of course I do. Rand, I like being your friend,” she admitted, as a smile forced dimples into her cheeks, “and I’d still love for you to come one afternoon. I could show you our library and music room.” 

He grimaced, a sad smile taking over his demeanour. “I’d like that,” he confessed, “very much indeed, but it’ll have to wait. I’ll be gone for a couple of days.” 

“Gone where?” She asked, and the look on his face, of pain, shame, sadness, made her realise she shouldn’t have done so. “You can’t tell me.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You needn't, Rand.” She said, offering the most genuine smile she could muster under the circumstances. “I’ll be happy to have you over once you come back.” She lightly tapped his hand, and he finally let her away from his gentle, yet firm grip. “I hope you have a nice trip, Rand.” 

“Thank you, Gwen.” He replied, gloomily. 

That night, the nightmare visited her again. It had done so every night since she had met Rand at the Sanatorium. Guinevere jerked upright in her bed, her whole body had broken into a sweat, and she felt feverish. It’d been a long time since a nightmare had affected her that much. She bolted towards her desk, and grabbed a little music box with a ballerina inside. She laid on her bed once again, and placed the music box in the nightstand beside her. She closed her eyes, her breathing steading, as the music lulled her back to sleep. 

Next time she woke up, soft beams of sunshine were tickling her face. It’d be a sunny day. That always managed to get her out and about quickly. She jumped out of bed, put on some clothes, had a small breakfast, and made her bag for the day, a pouch sitting firmly over her hips. 

Just as she was about to leave for the Sanitorium, she heard a knock on the door. She knew her mother would scold her for answering herself instead of having Johnas greet the guest, but she paid no mind to it, she already was on her way out after all. 

Guinevere opened the door, and was greeted by a pair of weary, yet somehow sparkly, blue eyes. Her whole body went stiff, a gasp caught in her throat, heart pounding in her chest. The paintings didn’t do it justice. It truly was like looking into a mirror. A mirror that reflected a somehow older version of herself, once she wouldn’t have found in the paintings around her house, of course. The same midnight shade of blue on their eyes, where Guinevere’s were gleaming and doe-like, hers were sunken and hollow, surrounded by lines of weariness. The same cheeks, but where Guinevere’s were full and rosy, hers were angular and dull, skin sagging a little around them. 

Guinevere saw the older woman match her own staggered expression for a moment, before composing herself, and clearing her throat. That managed to get the girl’s mind attached to the rest of her body once again. 

“M-Moiraine,” she stuttered, still in shock, “I mean, Moiraine Sedai.” She added, with a slight tilt of her head, stepping aside as to let the older woman in. 

“There’s no need for such formalities, child.” The Aes Sedai said, hastily getting inside and closing the door behind her. She got a quick glimpse at her, and then started scanning the room, her eyes as calculating and stern as she had imagined. 

Guinevere remained still for a moment, before regaining awareness of herself, and the situation. Of course, she probably has no idea who I am. “I’m sorry, my name is—

“Guinevere, I know.” The woman said, finally setting her eyes on her. Guinevere looked at her, and was surprised to see her eyes gleaming, as if she were holding back tears, which managed to upset her. She was the one who should be sad, the one who deserved to feel neglected. “You’ve grown. Last time I saw you, you were as tall as this table.” She added, gesturing towards the furniture on her left. Guinevere tilted her head to meet the woman’s gaze, and noticed a flicker of sadness on them, the exact same one she’d seen on Siuan’s.

“I wouldn’t remember.” 

“No,” she sighed, her lips almost quivering, unwillingly drawing her stare away from her, “I guess you wouldn’t.” 

They remained in awkward silence, not knowing what else to say, until Johnas walked across the hall. He abruptly came to a halt, not believing his eyes. “Am I so very old I’ve started seeing double, or is that you, Lady Moiraine?” 

Moiraine was about to respond, but Guinevere interrupted her. “Johnas, please tell my mother her sister is here. It’s still quite early, I’m afraid she ought to be in the painting room.” 

“Of course, little lady.” The man bowed towards the both of them, and left the room. 

Guinevere turned her gaze towards her aunt, and started to subtly examine her. She wasn’t the once-in a lifetime hero her brother had made her out to be. She seemed tired, weary, and overly aged for an Aes Sedai. And her power… if she was as powerful as everyone said, she couldn’t feel it. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t feel anything within her. She turned her face upwards, and noticed the older woman studying her just as she had been doing as well. Moiraine took one step closer to her, softly placing hand on Guinevere’s head and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Guinevere, I—

“Little lady, my lady,” Johnas interrupted them, as he barged into the room, “your sister is waiting for you in the drawing room.” 

Moiraine suddenly drew her hand to herself, casting a glance of guilt to the younger girl, as if she had been on the brink of doing something she’d later regret. She cleared her throat as she turned around, following the butler into the next room, and leaving Guinevere all by herself in the hall. I was wrong. If Moiraine wasn’t as powerful with the One Power, then how could she explain the electrifying, almost burning feeling that ran through her body when she’d touched her?

************

This was written so quickly and I still have yet to proofread it, so please, comment if you've enjoyed it and would like another part and if there's anything you'd like to see! Thank you for reading

Chapter 2 here!

[butterflydm]

wot rewatch 1x2: shadow's waiting

Continuing my pre-s2 rewatch with the second episode, Shadow's Waiting. <3

spoilers for all of season one plus through The Fires of Heaven in the book series

The way the Whitecloaks are set up here does feel like Rafe & co were pulling a lot from how they were portrayed in New Spring, where the newly-raised Sisters get warned that an arrow in the back kills Aes Sedai as easily as anyone else. But this cold-open is brutal and also sets up the stakes for Moiraine later in the episode - this is the kind of death she would get from Valda if he were able.

Valda's special bird breakfast was a gift from the "Lord" to congratulate him on his "victory". Which Lord? Presumably not Bornhald, given the way he behaves around Valda later. The victory is, presumably, the capture of this poor Yellow Ajah Sister.

Since I was recently thinking about forkroot in my story... I wonder if it'll get introduced via the Whitecloaks in the show. Ronde was a Yellow's eyes-and-ears in Amadicia (Whitecloak country). But I don't think the Whitecloaks have forkroot yet, or he would have just dosed Egwene with it when he has her prisoner.

I love the credits sequence so much. <3

The scenery is just so gorgeous.

It makes a lot of sense that the kiddos don't challenge Moiraine until after they've both a. reached a measure of safety by being on the other side of the river and b. saw what happened with the ferry. They are village kids and the ruthless calculus of war is not something they've had to think about in their lives. Of course they'll think "there had to be a better way".

So now all the kids have a chance to breathe and to actually think. Rand wants a plan so that they can try to keep each other safe if that stops being a priority of Moiraine's -- and that is a worry of his that kinda does get proven true at the end of the season when the Red Ajah is sent after Mat by Moiraine.

Poor Rand is also very much not ready to think about one of them being the Dragon especially because, well, he's already suspecting that it would be him and desperately not wanting it to be.

And Egwene is already embracing the idea that maybe it is one of them, so maybe they can help save people.

Mat trying to break the tension and play peacemaker.

Here is where we get the difference between Egwene and the others -- it isn't that they doubt Moiraine and she doesn't, it's that Egwene gets an explanation when she expresses her doubts to Moiraine during their nighttime conversation. Moiraine actually walks Egwene through her thought process here so that Egwene will understand why she made the choices that she did.

Moiraine's explanation of the Oaths also puts Valda's "victory" from the cold open into perspective -- unless she knew her life was in imminent danger, that Yellow Aes Sedai could not use the One Power against Valda. Some "victory".

Moiraine must have been so relieved when she realized that Egwene can channel. It made it that much more likely that they were lucky enough to have the Dragon reborn as someone who would not fall to the corruption. Like, I 100% understand why Moiraine wants Egwene to be TDR but, in her eagerness to have the less dangerous choice as the Dragon, she treated the qualms of the boys too carelessly and dismissively. They all deserved the explanation that she was willing to give Egwene.

Poor Rand. Poor Egwene. I understand both sides of this -- Egwene was seeking familiar comfort but... you literally JUST broke up with him. Rand is not being an "asshole" to want some space.

Moiraine is demanding information but not giving them sufficient answers when Rand tries to press her in return. And tbh I think part of Egwene's anger here is because Rand rejected her last night and she's hurt over it. But Mat is the one who is able to talk Rand down and get him to play ball.

Once again, how similarly Rand and Egwene are costumed really stands out -- brown coat over a blue top. Mirrors! Co-protagonists!

The encounter with the Whitecloaks accomplishes several things: we see that the Whitecloaks feel free to act as an authority in lands that are not their own; Valda sees their faces so that he'll recognize Perrin & Egwene later; and we see that there are other Whitecloaks who appear to disagree with at least some of Valda/the Questioners beliefs (Bornhald telling Moiraine to seek out Aes Sedai healing). Plus there's a lot of tension in the scene because we saw the cold open.

Love the Manetheren song scene. And it's another example of Mat working to help the emotional state of the group. And I love hearing the story from Moiraine. I teared up on rewatch too.

Timing note: "I haven't seen any Trollocs for days", Lan says.

Again, we get to Rand and Egwene's further discussion and I can see both sides: Rand would like to be given space to process but Egwene wants reassurances that in a world that has changed so much Rand still cares about her. But Egwene has been the one sending mixed signals, not Rand. I understand why she has but it was definitely absolutely baffling to me when I hopped online and saw Rand being taken to task for holding on and being 'clingy'.

Perrin gets wolf healing and we get a hint here that Something Supernatural is up with Perrin but it's now been explicitly linked to wolves.

Love pretty much the entire Shadar Logoth section and Mat is a lot less randomly treasure-hungry and naive in this version. It accomplishes what it needs to do in splitting the party and there's a great creepy vibe.

It also gives us some nice character moments. Perrin and Mat's conversation about Laila is really sweet, and again shows us that Mat is very emotionally sensitive to others. And Rand and Egwene's silent moment together is also sweet.

Rand really likes to go the high places to think. Chills on the mountain in the first episode and seeks out a tower with the view of the dead city in this one.

Giving Perrin a weapon that is primarily a tool is also very thematic for him. That's part of the struggle for him -- between choosing a weapon that he sees only as a weapon and one that is primarily a tool but can be used as a weapon if needed. Knife here rather than a hammer but it still fits the themes for Perrin.

So many of the criticisms of the show baffled me and here's another one: did the people who said it was "too clean" watch past the big village festival? They are showing wear and tear already and it gets worse in upcoming episodes.

Poor horse. Being eaten by a tendril of darkness and dissolving into dust seems a rough way to go.

I also like the choice of darkness as opposed to fog, partly so that people don't associate the fog of the Heroes of the Horn with Shadar Logoth lol.

Party split successfully accomplished!

Weapon as tool: we see Rand use his sword not as a sword but as a crowbar to help him and Mat escape Shadar Logoth.

And Nynaeve (not dead) shows up as our surprise ending!

<3 <3 <3 <3

[queenofmalkier]

WOT Favorites

Inspired by various other games out there, the rules are simple: pick one favorite from each category and tag ten people to choose their favorites. Yes I could have had a lot more categories - Aiel, Seanchan, etc. - but the list got too long!

Emond's Field 5: Nynaeve al'Meara

Secondary Character: Moiraine Damodred*

EF5 Love Interest: Gawyn Trakand

Forsaken: Lanfear

Black Ajah: Alviarin Freidhen

Blue Ajah: Faolain Orande

Brown Ajah: Verin Mathwin

Green Ajah: Elayne Trakand

Gray Ajah: Yukiri Haruna

Red Ajah: Silviana Brehon

White Ajah: Sereille Bagand

Yellow Ajah: Samitsu Tamagowa

Asha'man: Jahar Narishma

Random Side Character: Almen Bunt

Darkfriend: Padan Fain

Weapon: Ashandarei

Location: The Blight

Culture: Ogier

*Secondary character defined as: those who play a significant role, and appear in multiple scenes, but who are not the main focus of the primary plot

Tagging @highladyluck @asha-mage @too-many-books-too-little-life @deathisthekitten @everybodyhatesrand @vdovaromanova @twicethedragon @clearancecreedwatersurvival @flame-of-tar-valon @witchytrina

Feel free to ignore if you don't want to play :)

[asha-mage]

verin & moiraine, prompt: colors

[Send me a character or pairing, and a one word prompt, and I'll write you a drabble!]

            “It’s an itch.” Moiraine said suddenly and Verin paused in the pouring of her tea to look up at the young woman.

            Moiraine was staring down into her own cup, her face set with a stubborn expression that was likely to get her into more trouble of another Aes Sedai saw it. Verin had already had to punish her and was in no mood for further discipline tonight. It was not something she was good at really. That was one of the reasons she had never been considered for Mistress of Novices despite being one of the Tower’s most experienced teachers.

            “An itch?” Verin said tilting her head. She must not have done a good job of displacing if that was the girl’s thought.

            Moiraine shook her head. Her eyes where fixed to her Great Serpent ring, which rested on the third finger of her right hand, as was custom for Accepted. “The need to know, to understand.” Moiraine explained. “It’s��like an itch between my shoulder blades Verin Sedai. I am sorry but….” She shook her head.

            Verin understood. That need to know burned in her too. Most of her troubles in life could be traced back to her inability to control it, despite nearly more then two hundred years of trying.

            “Be that as it may child.” Verin said passing Moiraine a cup. “If you want to scratch that itch with Brown Ajah secrets, you shall have to choose Brown when the time comes.”

            Moiraine nodded sulkily. She had not overheard anything of course, only tried, but that was bad enough. It was one of the few offenses a Novice or Accepted could make, or a Sister for that matter, that allowed a free hand to one who caught the offender. It was good that she had not tried with the Power. Verin would not have been able to be so lenient in that case.

            “You might consider it.” Verin added smiling. “What could be more Brown then wanting to gather knowledge, all knowledge?”

            Moiraine hesitated as if considering it, then shook her head. “No Verin Sedai. I…I don’t think I could do that. Withdraw from the world to seek knowledge.” She smiled. “To know, to understand is an itch. To fight for a future, a cause….that is a need.”

            Verin smiled. Blue then, most likely. Not that she had really doubted it. “A life of adventure and travel, of meddling and politics, can be a lonely one.” Verin said gently.

            Moiraine nodded. “I know. But it can be rewarding too. To struggle for something with…with meaning.”

            Verin smiled. She could understand that too. The desire to do something, make something, that truly mattered in this world. Maybe their was a a little Blue in her too, however much her soul was Brown.

[damodraine]

unrequested starter for Siuan @coeurexpose​ because feels. 

Will of living had vanished. A few pieces of bread within the last days in that inn, perhaps two cups of water, and that was all the Cairhien had been able to swallow, or else the woman found herself on the four throwing out the remaining of another life. 

Her cloak enveloped her from head to toe, she couldn’t seem to find any heat anywhere - even baths didn’t find a way to warm her up. Moiraine couldn’t find any bright light in her life right now. Like an addict, she had tried many times to reach the true source, but failed every single time. Every failing brought a tear to her eyes. But she started, over and over again, until she lost it - was it madness ? She knew exactly what it was, it was simply driving her crazy not to access the One Power anymore. Any Aes sedai would deeply suffer from that missing piece inside of them. 

Watching through the dirty window, her look lost in the vague, she could have been standing there for hours, who knew now. She had lost track of time as well. Moiraine wasn’t one to give up, but she couldn’t find a purpose in her life. She was unworthy of everything. A common human, powerless... even the lowest Aes Sedai could teach the source. And she couldn’t anymore. 

When the door opened, she hadn’t heard steps coming from the stairs, nor felt the presence. A useless woman. At first she had thought it was Lan, the man kept checking on her three times a day, and each time she asked him to leave. But it was different, the steps felt lighter. Glancing over her shoulder, she gasped ; the Amyrling Seat was standing in the middle of that poor room. Her eyes watered immediately when she met hers. She should make a curtsy, rules of Tar Valon applied everywhere. Siuan looked dazzling. She was shining bright from her entire being. The former blue Ajah clenched her jaw, ready to burst into tears. However Moiraine looked away, hiding a little more into her cloak, shameful. “What are you doing here ?”

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 18: Healing

It's been awhile but you still know the drill, don't you? Don't read this if you haven't read the entirety of The Wheel of Time, including the prologue, the comics, all interviews with the cast and crew of the show, the New Testament, the Frank Herbert Dune novels, the Mahabharata, and the Big Book of Awful Art or whatever we're calling it now.

Don't lie. You haven't read all of the stuff on that list.

This chapter begins with a heron-marked sword because Mat's having a past life flashback, I guess???

The Black Ajah had struck at those storerooms. And if some of the Black Ajah were lying in wait in one of those dark side corridors, if Sheriam were leading them not to Mat, but to. . . .

Egwene's being a bit paranoid here (who can blame her after the Seanchan?). After one obvious attack failed, the Black needs a little more time to get another one going.

“Do not think of it,” Sheriam said, and for once she sounded like the Sheriam of old, kindly if firm. “The Black Ajah will not be your worry for years to come. You have what the rest of us do not: time before you must deal with it. Much time, yet. When we enter, stay against the wall and keep silent. You are allowed here as a benevolence, to attend, not to distract or interfere.”

Sheriam of course doesn't want any of her charges thinking about the BA unless she's recruiting them.

The Amyrlin Seat stood at Mat’s head, and Leane at his feet. Four Aes Sedai stood down one side of the table, and three down the other. Sheriam joined the three.

So that's ten total. I'm surprised they're not pulling out thirteen under the circumstances.

Despite the outward calm of the women around the table, Egwene thought she saw signs of uncertainty. A tightness to Anaiya’s mouth. A slight frown on Alanna’s darkly beautiful face. The cool-eyed woman kept smoothing her pale blue dress over her thighs without seeming to realize what she was doing.

Egwene's ability to read the body language of the very controlled Aes Sedai is a nice bit of setting up for her being in charge.

From its nest in the red silk lining, the Amyrlin took out a white, fluted wand the length of her forearm. It could have been bone, or ivory, but was neither. No one alive knew what it was made of.

Probably not plastic, considering the AoL's general vibes.

Egwene fought the urge to open herself to saidar and add her flow to the tide. It was a pull so strong she was about to be jerked off her feet. Elayne tightened her hold on her hand. Nynaeve took a step toward the table, then stopped with an angry shake of her head.

Mat's lucky none of the girls joined in and promptly got him killed.

She paused as if she had just heard her own words—that she could channel half of what ten full Aes Sedai did with a sa’angreal—and her voice grew even fainter. “Light help me, I want to.”

And she will and it will be amazing and also really horrible!

That much, she knew; but in some way it seemed for a moment that she should understand the rest, too, as if the meaning were just out of sight, and all she had to do was turn her head to know.

While this is probably just explicitly supposed to be about Egwene having plenty of the Old Blood like Mat, I do think part of it is the likelihood of her having been the Queen of Manetheren in a former life as well.

Anaiya bent again for a set of tongs such as a goodwife might use in her kitchen, and grasped the floating dagger in them as carefully as if it were a poisonous snake.

Poisonous snakes are much less dangerous if you think about it.

“Only time will tell. Carrying something with Shadar Logoth’s taint for so long . . . who knows what effect it will have on him? Perhaps none, perhaps much. We will see. But the bond with the dagger is broken. Now he needs rest, and as much food as can be gotten into him. He should live.”

I think the effect is relatively minor (because Mat's lucky): merely the holes in his memories that he will report. However, Mat being ta'veren means he'll get quite a bit more out of the experience than someone else might have.

“For a time,” she said finally, “I believe the past and the present were one. He was there, and he was here, and he knew who we were. He commanded us to release him.” She paused again. “ ‘I am a free man, Aes Sedai. I am no Aes Sedai meat.’ That is what he said.”

I suspect this is an immediate effect of the holes in his memory forming. He was so close to death (and Old Blood besides) that he was more connected to past lives than the living usually are and so while he stayed on the threshold older memories could come rushing in to temporarily fill the gaps. Possibly this affects his later power development, possibly not; I'm so far into headcanon that it's not worth saying one way or the other.

“Mother,” Egwene asked anxiously, “could we not stay with Mat? If he may still die. . . .”

I just want to highlight this to again show that the Egwene hatedom is a little overstated. She's definitely got flaws, but she's the one who seems to be most worried about Mat at this particular moment.

Anyway, next time: Mat gets a POV of his own!

[sixth-light]

A Brief Overview of the Ajahs

One of the long-term entertainments of WOT fandom is deciding which Ajah you’d be in (long before Hogwarts Houses were a glint in anybody’s eye) so, for the benefit of new show people, here is a brief summary of the seven Ajahs Aes Sedai can belong to, sans any other plot or character spoilers. However I guess by definition these are worldbuilding spoilers since we haven’t heard of all of them in the show yet. (This is, in case it’s not obvious, somewhat satirical but I hope not inaccurate in terms of ~vibes~.) 

Blue Ajah: Not waiting for anybody else to save the world. The SJWs (complimentary) of the Aes Sedai. Range from "dropped out of university to chain themselves to oil rigs" to "savvy, charismatic political operators".

Yellow Ajah: If you CAN heal people with magic, why would you NOT heal people with magic? At their most chill, "your hippie neighbour who has a tea for everything"; at their most terrible, "neurosurgeon and you’re not allowed to forget it".

Green Ajah: D&D wizards/people who learned magic and decided the best thing they could do with it was fuck shit up. Famously ‘the Battle Ajah’. Range from "mostly here for a good time" through "I fuck shit up PROFESSIONALLY". 

Grey Ajah: Their lives would be easier if everybody would just get along. On a spectrum from "small claims court judge, very tired" through "hyper-experienced hostage negotiator". 

White Ajah: There is a logical solution to everything and they ARE going to find it. At best, your mate doing a philosophy PhD whose explanations you don’t totally understand but who clearly loves what they do. At worst, that person who uses “rational” like it’s the winning card in every argument.

Brown Ajah: Nerds (affectionate). They range from "friendly local easily distracted professor” through "the kind of librarian who thinks people other than librarians existing in the library is an unreasonable imposition".

Red Ajah: The magic cops. On a spectrum from "TERFs and cops" through "cool motives, still murder". 

As another worldbuilding note: Aes Sedai can’t switch Ajahs so there are a lot of examples in the book series of people who chose one but later in life clearly would have been happier or better-suited in another, and PoV characters do not hesitate to make that judgment about them. Unlike some other Sort Yourselves Into Groups fantasy systems it’s a statement about what people thought they wanted to do at one point in their lives, not an in-world infallible personality guide. Moiraine is an EXTREMELY prototypical Blue sister, though. 

[goldenwanderer]

X Y Z for Moiraine/Siuan!

Prompt List Here

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Siuan is more affectionate than Moiraine - in large part because she clearly grew up with a doting father than the distant Cairhienin bullshit Moiraine was raised with. Even in the scenes we get with them, Siuan is usually the one to initiate physical contact. Most of the romantic lines also come from Siuan, as well as the cutesy pet names that make Moiraine smile. Casual affection and romance comes easily to her, and Moiraine loves it.

Not to say Moiraine can't be romantic as fuck when she wants to be. I mean, what she says as she's swearing her exile oath? The woman's clearly spent enough time around Lan to know how to wax poetic on occasion. I also think she'd be more physically affectionate if she had longer than one night at a time with her lover - if she didn't have to jump back into cold and distant mode immediately after. Siuan is better at switching between her public and private personality; Moiraine takes a little longer to fully open up, and she usually isn't given the opportunity.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Considering they're apart, like, 99% of the time, I'd say they cope fairly well.

A lot of the coping comes from the reason they're apart in the first place - The Mission. I mean, they're both Blue Ajah for a reason. We know from later books that Their Purpose is enough to help them survive some severe trauma, so it's certainly enough to help them cope with being separated from each other.

Moiraine has the extra benefit of having a close confidant and partner in Lan. His love is not a substitute for Siuan, but it is a great source of comfort and support.

We haven't seen whether Siuan has a Warder or not (she has one in the early books, but we never meet him, so we don't really know much about their relationship). Likely the show won't give her one, at least for now, so I'll assume for the time being that she doesn't have a Warder. If this is the case, then Siuan probably struggles more with missing Moiraine than the other way around. Moiraine has Lan, and she's also actively carrying out her mission in life, and both are great distractions. Siuan, meanwhile, is stuck in the White Tower, dealing with other Aes Sedai and all the politics. And after she becomes Amyrlin Seat, this gets worse. Suddenly no one can even use her name, let alone get close to her. Siuan has a will of iron, so she does what has to be done, but the loneliness come close to unbearable sometimes.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Honestly, the fact that they're still making the effort to be together could be considered "great lengths." One of them is the most powerful woman in the world, who really shouldn't be romantically involved with anyone at all, but especially not someone under her direct authority. And both are hiding their involvement in the world's most important but also most dangerous spy mission.

And yet... they still make time for each other. Not much, admittedly - the Wheel rarely gives them the chance. But instead of taking the easy route and going their separate ways (which would be safer for both of them), they choose again and again to keep investing in the relationship. Maybe it's selfish, and maybe not. But that active choice to keep loving each other is more than enough.

[skyholly]

The best kept secret

Summary: What if Moiraine had a baby daughter she and Siuan were forced to leave to Anvaere to raise as her own?

moiraine/siuan

Chapter 1 here!

***************

Chapter 2: Moiraine

Moiraine couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw her. She was so grown up. Her father’s words resounded in her ears. Time is a thief. 

Her hair, of the warmest brown, sat neatly over her shoulders, when she’d once had soft, chestnut blonde curls. Her eyes remained the deepest of blue, but with more wisdom to them. Her height surprised her the most; the last time she saw her she could barely reach her waist, whilst now she stood almost as tall as her. And of course, that ring on her finger. That cursed ring. She knew when she’d joined the Tower and she knew she’d joined the Yellow Ajah, Siuan always kept her informed on such matters, but she very much wished she hadn’t. She had hoped she couldn’t have been able to channel. That she was allowed a normal life, a complete foreigner to the Tower’s demands. But the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. 

It took Moiraine a moment to get a hold of herself, and before she realised it, she’d made her way home, muttered some words, and suddenly she found herself tucking a strand of hair behind Guinevere’s ear, her mind flooding with memories of that week, a week that she had so earnestly tried to erase from her memory, and yet could never fully escape it. I can never seen her again.

*************

Moiraine knew she shouldn’t, and yet, she couldn’t help it. She’d been sent on business to Cairhien by the Amyrlin’s orders and could stay at whatever inn she pleased, preferably while maintaining a low profile. But being in the city ignited something within her—a yearning, an ache that burned throughout her entire being. Before she could gather her thoughts, she found herself dragging Lan through the city’s streets and passageways etched into her memory, towards the childhood home she’d promised herself never to return to, until she was ready. The Light knew she wasn’t, but she couldn’t fight the feeling, the yearning to see her. 

“This isn’t wise, Moiraine.” Lan warned her. But he could feel everything she did, and he couldn’t help but to sympathise with what her Aes Sedai was going trough, all of her emotions burning within him as well. He diligently followed the woman across the city, until they reached a big, wealthy house with an enormous door on its front. “Moiraine.” He alerted her again, but she remained indifferent to it. Just one look at her. One look at her and I’m gone. 

Moiraine walked the steps towards the door, hesitating for a second, before knocking on it. She could hear some mayhem taking place inside the house, little footsteps running towards their direction, and the voice of a man, gentle, yet commanding, yelling for someone, before there was silence. Seconds later, the door opened abruptly, revealing who was behind such chaos. A man, tall, advanced in years, with grey hair and a smile so wide and kind it translated into his eyes, was standing before them, holding a giggling toddler in his arms. The three year old girl had golden, chestnut curls pulled into two braids; eyes the colour of midnight sky, and a mischievous grin on her face that would easily let any parent know she was a handful. Moiraine felt herself melt at such sight. 

“Moiraine!” The older man happily exclaimed, opening his eyes in surprise, hastily stepping aside to let the pair in. “It’s been so long, four years if I’m not mistaken, what are you doing here?” He asked, shifting the toddler from one arm to the other, who had suddenly gone silent at the presence of the two strangers. 

Moiraine knew she ought to answer, her brain knew as much, but she couldn’t draw her gaze away from the little girl in the man’s arms. She was so precious, every bit of endearing and magical as she had pictured her to be. She instantly felt compelled to take the toddler into her arms, and realised what a terrible mistake she’d made by returning. You fool! You most definitely aren’t ready. You’re endangering everything. 

“We're on Tower’s business,” Lan rushed to explain, noticing Moiraine was too absent minded to do so herself, “and we thought we’d stop by. My name is Lan Mandragoran, I’m Moiraine’s Warder.” He said, extending a hand towards him, which the older man shook happily. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Lan. I’m Torvin, Anvaere’s husband. ” He introduced himself, with a big smile, as he tilted his face towards the little girl resting her head on his shoulder. “This is our daughter, Guinevere. Winnie, this is your aunt Moiraine, and his Warder, Lan. Aren’t you going to say hi?” 

Guinevere stared at them, a shy smile covering her face, before she nudged even further into her father’s chest. “Has a mouse eaten your tongue? Why are you so quiet all of the sudden?” He teased her, as he started tickling the toddler, which managed to get her to erupt in giggles. 

“Darling?” A voice echoed from within the hall, a voice she could recognise anywhere. Moiraine felt herself go pale. Anvaere. “Who is it so late in the evening?” The woman asked, as she joined them in the room, but went still at the sight of their guests. At the sight of one guest in particular. “Moiraine,” she exhaled. 

“Hello, little sister. You look well,” Moiraine said, finally tearing her gaze from the toddler. “You all do.”

“We are.” Anvaere nodded, as she approached her husband, taking the child from his arms protectively into hers, with a hint of worry in her eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by her older sister. “We’re all very happy indeed.” 

“And I’m glad, sister, I truly am.” She professed, taking a quick glance at the young girl before stepping back towards the warder, a flicker of both anger and sympathy showing in Anvaere's expression. “We were sent to Caihrien on Amyrlin’s order and we thought we’d stop here, just as Lan said. Nothing more.” 

Moiraine and Anvaere stared at each other for a moment, silently speaking in their own language no one else knew. Moiraine understood why her sister was acting so guarded. The Aes Sedai puckered her eyes into a pleading expression, biting on her lip. I just want to see her. I’m not here to take her away from you. Anvaere felt her chest tighten at such sight, she couldn’t help but to empathise with her older sister. It broke her heart to see her like that. 

“You better join us for dinner, then.” Anvaere smiled, leaving a kiss on Guinevere’s temple. “You’ll always be welcome to stay here, sister.” 

Dinner went smoothly, their discussions centred around Barthanes’ travels to visit his uncle, how expertly he faired despite his young age, the latest scandals among Cairhien’s noble Houses, news from the Sun Palace, and whatever little they could speak of the Tower. Yet it ended fairly quickly, under the excuse that they needed to put Guinevere to bed early, lest she got moody. 

Anvaere had cambers prepared for the both of them, separate of course, as Lan was guided into one of the guests’ rooms and Moiraine into her own childhood bedroom. She was settling in, a torrent of memories coming back to her, when she heard a shy knock on the door, and then noticed someone peeking through a small gap in the opening. A tiny someone. And suddenly, a little girl came in rushing, lightly closing the door behind her. Moiraine remained still in her place next to the fireplace, deliberating on whether sending the girl back to her room, or allowing her to stay. 

Guinevere stood quiet, her back rigid against the door, her gaze set intensely into the older woman’s. “Is it true you’re an Aes Sedai? My brother says you are one.” She asked, bluntly, a hint ofboth fear and curiosity ringing in her voice.

Moiraine couldn’t help but smile. “I am,” she said, raising the hand where she carried her ring, “would you like to come see?”

Guinevere eagerly nodded, and then hesitantly walked towards the armchair Moiraine was sitting in. She softly brushed her fingers against the ring, staring in awe at the serpents that shaped it and the blue stone in the middle. “This gives you magic?” She asked. 

“No,” Moiraine softly laughed, removing it from her finger and handing it to the little girl, “the One Power is within all of us, within every stone, every body of water, every burning fire, every wind that blows on your hair. Some women simply are capable of pulling on its weaves.” She explained. Some men, as well. 

“Woah,” Guinevere exhaled, grabbing the ring, the jewel fitting loose on her little finger, “how do you find the weaves?” The child asked, tilting her head in confusion. She didn’t see any strings around, how could someone pull on something it didn’t exist?

“Like this.” Moiraine said, as she moved her hands in smooth motions, causing the fire on the chimney to unexpectedly burn higher and more fiercely. 

Guinevere gasped, both in amazement and fear, as she jumped into Moiraine’s lap, her little hands gripping on her chest. “You don’t need to be scared,” the woman chuckled, instinctively embracing the little girl, “it won’t hurt you.” 

The child kept staring in wonder at the dancing flames, and then turned towards her aunt. “Can I do that too?” Guinevere earnestly asked her, her big eyes, an exact copy of Moiraine’s, full of fascination. That look pulled at the woman’s heart strings, a wave of sadness and nostalgia of what could’ve been filling her with sorrow. Oh, my dearest Siuan, if only you could see her. 

“Maybe,” she whispered, gently tucking a strand of hair behind the little girl’s ear, “we’ll have to wait until you’re older, sometimes the ability to channel comes later. Speaking of late,” she added, taking Guinevere by her arms as to set her on the floor once again, “I believe you should be off to bed.” 

“No!” The girl yelled, holding on tighter to her aunt, all the shyness from before nothing but a stranger to her at that point. “I don’t want to go. I want you to tell me stories about Aes Sedai and magic and monsters.” She begged, pouting, eyes furrowing into the sweetest pleading expression she’d ever seen. How could anyone refuse? She suddenly understood Torvin’s words. 

Moiraine couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, giving in to Guinevere's cries. She helped the girl settle into her lap, a smug smile taking over the toddler’s semblance upon getting what she wanted. “Does that always work for you?” She asked, smiling. 

“Usually.” 

Moiraine started reciting tales about kings and queens from ancient times, as Guinevere’s unwavering stare on her kept turning into frowns and smiles and grins as she listened to the amazing stories her aunt told her. They remained like that, entranced in their own little world, until they heard a voice resound in the hallway. 

“Guinevere!” Anvaere’s angry voice reached them. “Where are you? Torvin, I can’t find Winnie!” She yelled, panic slowly settling into her. 

Moiraine turned towards the toddler. “Does your mother not know you’re here?” The girl shook her head, her face mimicking Moiraine’s own guilty expression. 

“Mama, I’m here!” She screamed, as she hopped off the armchair and ran towards the door. Anvaere barged into the room, just as the girl reached for it. “Winnie,” she sighed, relieved, picking the toddler up in her arms,“what were you doing in here?” 

“Aunt Moiraine was telling me a story!” She exclaimed, excitedly. Anvaere directed her gaze towards her sister, who had stood up, uncomfortably placing her hands on her stomach. “I’m sorry Anvaere, I didn’t know—

“It’s fine,” the woman interrupted her, sending a sympathetic look towards her, “I apologise, I just got concerned when I didn’t see her in her nursery.” 

“I understand.” Moiraine smiled at her sister, gesture that she wholeheartedly returned. 

“I can hardly blame you,” Anvaere sighed, tilting her head towards Guinevere, “I believe it was this little girl who pulled on some strings to get you to tell her stories, didn’t she?” She said, tickling the girl. 

“I-just-wanted-to-hear-some-stories!” The girl said, in between giggles. 

Moiraine lowered her gaze, softly smiling to herself. Wishing for something she long ago gave up, and could have no more. You shouldn’t have come here. She’s happy here. Anvaere can take so much better care of her. 

“Well, it’s time for you to go to bed now, and no more escaping, alright?” Anvaere warned the toddler in her arms. 

“Alright.” She conceded, her arms dropping in defeat. 

“Now say thank you and goodnight to your aunt, and maybe she’ll tell you some more stories tomorrow.” 

“Thank you Aunt Moiraine, goodnight Aunt Moiraine.” Guinevere said, waving a little hand in her direction. 

“Goonight, Guinevere.” 

The following night, Guinevere found her in her room once again. The little girl barged into her room, not bothering to knock, as she already felt comfortable enough in the presence of her aunt, and ran towards her bed, where Moiraine was busy reading a book. 

“Can you tell me another story?” The little girl begged, her face barely reaching the height of the mattress. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, and she was wearing a white nightgown with flower embroidery. Moiraine recognised the piece of clothing as one of her own she used to wear as a child.  

Moiraine squinted her eyes at the girl. “Alright,” she eventually gave in, moving aside so that the toddler could jump into bed next to her. The two of them settled in, and so Moiraine started telling the story about Arthur Hawking and his fallen Empire. And just like the last time, Guinevere remained quiet, with her eyes wide as plates in astonishment, always asking Moiraine to keep on going whenever she tried calling it a night. 

The days in Cairhien passed quickly, each one blending into the next. Moiraine and Lan stayed longer than intended, their presence justified by vague mentions of Tower business. But Moiraine knew the real reason she stayed: Guinevere.

Every evening, Guinevere would sneak into Moiraine’s room, her eyes bright with anticipation. The bond between them grew stronger with each story shared, each moment of wonder at the magic Moiraine could summon. Anvaere allowed such things silently, a mixture of understanding and concern in her eyes.

One of those nights Moiraine came home and went straight to her bedroom, skipping dinner, for the events of the day had drained all energy away from her.

She was on the brink of falling asleep, when she heard the door open, and little footsteps started approaching her bed. She opened her eyes and saw Guinevere carefully walking towards her, carrying a platter full of cheese, bread and ham with her hands. “Mama told me to bring this to you,” she said, as Moiraine sat up against her pillow. The little girl placed the platter over her lap, and then climbed up the bed to sit next to her. 

“Are you sick Aunt Moiraine?” She asked, placing a little hand over the woman’s arm. Moiraine’s heart fluttered at the action. 

“Not sick, just tired.” She said, as she took a bite on a piece of cheese. 

“Oh, I get that,” Guinevere said, nodding, “I get sooo tired sometimes.” She added, theatrically tilting her head to the side and letting her body fall into the mattress. 

“You do?” Moiraine asked, amused at the girl’s cheekiness. 

Guinevere nodded earnestly, her little face serious. “Mama says I’m a handful.”

Moiraine laughed softly. “I can see why she would say that.”

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Moiraine nibbling on the food Guinevere had brought, the little girl watching her with wide, curious eyes.

“Do you want to hear another story?” Moiraine asked, breaking the silence.

Guinevere’s face lit up. “Yes, please!”

Moiraine began telling her about the adventures of the ancient Aes Sedai and their battles against the Shadow. Guinevere listened with fascinated attention, occasionally gasping or giggling at the exciting parts. As the story unfolded, Moiraine felt a warmth spreading through her, a sense of connection and joy she hadn’t felt in a long time. She felt a surge of guilt, knowing Siuan wasn’t there to share such moments with them. 

It was well past Guinevere’s bedtime when Anvaere found them. She stood at the doorway, watching the scene with a mix of emotions. She knew no one else who could control her emotions like her older sister, but would they falter at the girl’s presence? “Winnie, it’s time for bed,” she said softly.

Guinevere pouted but didn’t argue. She slid off the bed and ran to her mother, giving her a hug. “Goodnight, Aunt Moiraine,” she said, waving as Anvaere picked her up.

“Goodnight, Guinevere,” Moiraine replied, feeling a pang of sadness as the door closed behind them.

She lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. Coming back to Cairhien had opened old wounds but also brought unexpected joy. It is so easy. She is so easy, Siuan would be great with her, and Lan adores her. Maybe it could work out.

The following afternoon, Moiraine found herself pacing around her room, thinking about Guinevere, about the time they’d spent together, how seemlessly she blended into her life, when she heard yelling in the hallway. 

“I don’t want to get a bath!” A little voice shouted. 

“Winnie, you don’t get to choose—

“But I want Aunt Moiraine to tell me—

“GUINEVERE!” Anvaere finally raised her voice, as Moiraine made her way into the corridor, to find her sister, fuming, with both her hands on her hips, and feet away from her, a little girl, hair wild as if she had been riding, her dress stained with mud. “This is not a request, you are getting a bath right now before bed.” 

Guinevere crossed her arms, her lower lip jutting out in a stubborn pout. “But I want Aunt Moiraine to tell me a story first,” she insisted.

Anvaere sighed, her frustration melting into a look of resignation. “Moiraine, could you...?”

Moiraine smiled gently. “Of course.” She crouched down to Guinevere’s level, her eyes soft and understanding. “How about this: you take your bath now, and when you’re all clean and ready for bed, I’ll tell you the best story you’ve ever heard. Deal?”

Guinevere’s eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. “Deal!”

“Go on, then,” Moiraine encouraged, giving her a gentle nudge towards the bath. Guinevere scampered off, Anvaere watching her go with a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” Anvaere said quietly, her eyes meeting Moiraine’s.

Moiraine simply nodded, her heart aching with a swirl of emotions she couldn’t quite name. Easy. 

Later that night, Guinevere, freshly bathed and in her nightgown, bounded into Moiraine’s room, her eyes wide with anticipation. She climbed into bed beside her aunt, who took her by the arms and settled her onto her lap, the little girl’s back resting against Moiraine’s legs. 

“Alright, Aunt Moiraine, I’m ready,” she declared.

Moiraine smiled, grabbing the little girl’s hands. “Once upon a time, in a land far to the north...” she began, weaving a tale of adventure and magic, her voice soothing and melodic.

As she spoke, she felt the weight of the world lift off her shoulders, if only for a little while. She glanced down at Guinevere, whose eyes were slowly drooping, her breathing becoming steady and even.

By the time Moiraine finished the story, Guinevere was fast asleep against her chest, her small hand clutching Moiraine’s robe. She softly caressed the little girl’s cheek, rosy and plump. It feels so right. At the moment Moiraine fell asleep, she’d already made her choice. 

The Aes Sedai woke up at the crack of dawn, before anyone else in the household, got up from the bed in a gentle manner so as to not wake Guinevere up, and started packing her bags. She then ran towards the little girl’s nursery, and picked up some clothes for her. That’ll be enough, we can always get more.

She started to feel her heart flicker as she headed towards the barn to get her horse ready, a mix of emotions palpable on her skin. Happy, guilty, scared, unsure, but determined. So very determined. She blocked her connection to Lan, just in case such torrent of sentiments woke the warder up, and bolted towards her room once again. She picked up the little girl on her arms, softly, avoiding to wake her up, rolled her in a blanket, and started to make her way out of the house.  

She skipped through the stairs with ease, and was about to reach the lower entrance, when someone swiftly intercepted her, blocking her way to the door. Torvin. 

Moiraine went stiff, reaching for the One Power, an electrical buzz surrounding her body, ready for confrontation if needed, but the older man didn’t appear to be angry at her, rather he wore a sad and sympathetic look on his face. He was aware of her intentions.

Curse you, Lan. 

“What are you doing, Moiraine?” The old man asked, softly, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Taking my daughter with me, Torvin.” She muttered, her lip quivering. 

“You know this isn’t the way,” Torvin said gently. “Anvaere will be devastated. And Guinevere...she needs stability, a home. She needs her family.”

“She is my family,” Moiraine shot back, her voice breaking. “I’ve given up so much already. I can’t leave her behind again. I won’t.”

Torvin took a step closer, clasping his hands together in a gentle motion. “What has changed, then? Four years ago, you came home with a whimpering baby in your arms, beggings us to take her and raise her as our own, because your life as Aes Sedai wasn’t compatible with a baby’s. Because of a mission sensitive you couldn’t even share with us. What’s different now?” 

Moiraine stood before Torvin, clutching Guinevere protectively, her heart pounding in her chest, as her breathing became uneven. The older man sighed, his expression a mix of understanding and sorrow. “If this is what you’ve chosen, then I guess I can’t convince you otherwise. She is yours, as you say. But taking her now, in the middle of the night… that’s not the answer.” 

She hesitated for a moment, before heading towards the door, brushing past the man. “Well, as you said, it is my choice, and I’m taking her now, whether you like it or—

“No.” A voice came from behind. She turned around, and found Anvaere and Lan rushing towards them from across the hall. “You are not taking her, Moiraine. She’s safe, she’s happy here.” Her sister explained, as she tried to take the child away from her hands. 

Moiraine tightened her grip on the girl, unintentionally causing her to wake up, the toddler slowly opening her eyes. “No, you don’t understand, I can manage now—

“Can you, really?” Anvaere asked, with a sorrowful look on her face, yet still determined to get the toddler into her arms. 

“Yes,” she whimpered, preventing tears from falling into her cheeks, “we can take her with us, she can come with us, she’d love all the travelling, I know—

Moiraine was interrupted by the little girl’s soft sniffles, frightened at being awakened in the middle of the night by her mother and aunt fighting, both pulling on her as if she were a prize. “Mama?” Guinevere cried, turning towards Anvaere, extending her arms towards her. 

Moiraine heart shattered at that, however, she remained reluctant to let her go, or that was until someone laid a hand over her shoulder, in a gentle motion. She glanced to her side. Lan. “Come on, Moiraine.” He whispered, locking eyes with her. We shouldn’t have come. That was all it took. 

She loosened her grip on Guinevere, allowing Anvaere to gently take the child from her arms. The little girl clung to her mother, burying her face in Anvaere’s shoulder, her small frame trembling with confusion and fear.

“Shh, it’s alright, Winnie. Everything’s alright,” Anvaere soothed, stroking Guinevere’s hair and whispering comforting words, as she left the room. 

Moiraine watched as Anvaere carried Guinevere away, her heart breaking into pieces. The child's soft cries echoed down the hall, each one a dagger to Moiraine's stomach. Lan's hand remained on her shoulder, grounding her, but it did little to ease the pain.

"You know she can’t come with us, Moiraine," Lan said gently, his voice low and filled with understanding, “we have a mission, and we cannot fit Guinevere into it, we’d only be hurting her.”

“I-I know,” she acknowledged, cheeks burning in a burgundy shade, “I don��t know what came over me.” She added, crossing her arms over her chest, shame covering every other emotion. She felt so embarrassed. Abducting a child, in the middle of the night, removing her from the warmth and safety of her bed. Not being able to get a grip on her emotions. Losing focus on what really mattered. Betraying her and Siuan’s purpose. Find the Dragon Reborn. It was so unlike her. 

Torvin smiled at her in a kind-hearted manner, as he gently rubbed the woman’s arm. “She is safe here, Moiraine. And so, so loved. She’ll be alright. And know that we will always welcome you in, should you feel the need to visit her.” Moiraine nodded, her eyes filled with unshed tears. They remained in silence, and the house seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all. 

It was Anvaere, returning alone to the room, after putting Guinevere to bed, who broke the silence. “I think you should go, Moiraine.” She said, a sober expression on her face, as she intertwined her arm with Torvin’s. 

Moiraine stared at her sister, realisation sinking on her like an anchor. I can’t ever see her again. The mission is too important. “I think so too.” 

*************

“Guinevere, I—

“Little lady, my lady,” Jhonas interrupted them, as he barged into the room, “your sister is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

She abruptly drew her hand away, frightened by what she was about to do. Two minutes in the girl’s presence and she was already losing all caution. But this time she needed to be in the city. And she suspected she’d need her sister’s help as well, reluctant as she was to accept that. 

She hurried to follow Jhonas into the drawing room, Guinevere’s steady footsteps just behind her, and went almost still, feeling the air get caught up in her throat once again at the sight of her sister. She studied her hair, she was most probably wearing a wig, in an attempt to hide the grey beneath it; she studied the wrinkles around her eyes, tired and weary; she studied the curve of her mouth, surrounded by lines. She looked so much older, not only than before, but so much older than her as well. Her little sister, worn out by time. It was a tragic vision, a deadly punch in the gut. 

“You look well, little sister.” She somehow managed to say, fighting back tears. 

“As you do.” She said, a pleasing smile on her face, before tilting her gaze towards someone behind her. “Winnie, you probably don’t remember her, this is your Aunt Moiraine.” 

“We’ve already introduced ourselves.” Moiraine said, not bothering to glance backwards. 

“I see.” Anvaere replied, the slightest glimmer of rage crossing her eyes. She then extended her arms, gesturing for the girl to come closer to her. “Winnie dearest, weren’t you heading out?” She asked her, grabbing both her hands. 

“I-I was. I should be going, really.” Guinevere stuttered. 

“Then get on with it, darling,” she said, kissing her forehead, “and don’t be too late.” 

“I won’t.” The young girl replied. Anvaere tightened her grip on her hand. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d caused her mother to panic after not returning home before nightfall. “I promise. I’ll be going then. Goodbye Aunt Moiraine.” 

“I’ll see you later, Guinevere.” 

Anvaere waited until the girl was gone, until she shifted her gaze towards her sister again. “Please, sit,” she gestured towards the chair by her side, “we didn’t know—

“I won’t trouble you for tea.” Moiraine rushed to say. “I have stabled my horse, and I would use my old room, if it’s open. But I want to keep a low profile here in the city.”

“Of course, we—

“Jhonas!” She exclaimed, turning towards the older man. “Bring up a Ghaeldanin red from the cellar?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And I need a dress ordered from—

“It’s been a decade, Moiraine!” Anvaere yelled, exasperated by her lack of attention. “Sit!”

Moiraine turned towards her sister, who was trying to gain some composure after her outbreak. “Have some tea.” She asked her. And how much Moiraine wanted that, she couldn’t possibly put in into words. How’d she’d missed her little sister, her companionship, and their talks and gossip reunions. But she was on Cairhien for a mission, and one mission only. Train the Dragon Reborn. She was sure Rand was in the city, somewhere. And she had to find him. 

“Perhaps lunch,” she said, and added, just before she left the room, “there’s someone I need to meet today.” 

She did felt terrible, leaving her sister, who simply wanted to have tea with her, alone, after fifteen years of not seeing each other, but her duty towards Rand was too important. 

She ran towards her childhood bedroom, and carefully put on some clothes. A blue dress with a lace, white turtleneck underneath, and of course the blue stone on her forehead, all with the purpose of avoiding people noticing what she was no more. She strolled around the room, reminiscing about her old self. Her book collection, her jewellery, her desk. Everything was exactly the same, covered in a thin layer of dust. Except for some things. Her music box was missing, a handful of books as well. Why would Anvaere touch such things? She closed her eyes as to clear her head, realising she was spending time she did not have, and rushed out of the door. 

She picked up the wine Jhonas had left for her, and hurried out the house, before anyone saw her. 

Moiraine came back home later than she’d expected, a defeated look on her face. She did not find Rand. She did not find anyone capable of saying where he was. Where he had been, yes, at the Sanitarium, but for some reason he missed work that day. She’d found out the inn he had been staying, but was there no more, since the place had apparently burned out. And Moiraine suspected Rand’d had something to do with it. Which meant she was too late. It was ridiculous to assume he would get a hold of his power in under six months, unassisted as well. She had been too late in searching for him. She’d failed. All because she’d been too focused moping about her, about losing her connection to the One Power. So egoistic. She, her problems, all of that was too unimportant in comparison to what the Wheel had prepared for Rand. She couldn’t let anything else drift her away from her mission, even when she felt she was asphixiating, fighting death every single day since she was cut out from the One Power. But she didn’t allow herself to keep on dwelling on such matters. 

She let out a breath as she walked into the house, peeking through the door to her sister’s chambers, dancing shadows indicating a warm fire was burning in the fireplace. She knew she ought to go to her. She wanted to. But she couldn’t deal with her at that moment. Focus. 

Moiraine walked away, towards her room, and was surprised to see Anvaere already there, waiting for her, sitting on an armchair beside the chimney. “You’ll pardon the intrusion, but I didn’t want to miss you. Please, sit.”

“Anvaere,” she sighed, putting a hand on her forehead, “I’ve had a long day. I…

“This is not what a woman should have to do to talk to the sister she spent half her life idolising.” Her little sister complained, yet somehow Moiraine felt as if she were being scolded. 

“If you want me to apologise for leaving,” she replied, shaking her head, “I won’t. An Aes Sedai cannot lie.” Could she? Can I claim myself an Aes Sedai any longer? 

“No, no, of course not.” Anvaere was quick to say, as Moiraine paced around the room. “In truth, you did nothing I wouldn’t have, if I could’ve channelled. Light knows I tried, on nights when our family’s future looked dim. After Uncle ruined us. After you left.” She said, with a hint of resentment on her voice. “But Father always held out hope that one day you’d come back and fix it all. You were his shining star. Shooting star, as it turned out, never to return once you left our sky. ”

“I…” Moiraine was as out of breath as she was out of words. It’s all too much. Her father, her sister, Rand, Guinevere. Siuan. She’d failed so many people. A lifetime wouldn’t be able to make up for all she’d done to them. “I would’ve come back if I could…” she murmured, taking a seat in front of her. 

“Spare me the false penitence.” Anvaere brushed her off. “You had your work, and I had mine. Less important, certainly, but no less demanding. Unless the Tower also taught you how to smile after someone spits in your eye? And I endured all of it with a little boy and a newborn girl to look after. But I got on with my work, just as you did with yours. Now my son is going to marry the Queen, and my daughter is the youngest Aes Sedai in years, and nobody will ever spit on House Damodred again.” 

Moiraine stared at her, sadness almost tangible on her eyes. “You’ve done well, little sister. Better than I would’ve done with the hand you were dealt.”

“Thank you, Moiraine.” Anvaere nodded, a smug grin on her face. “But somehow, finally, I don’t care what you think. I’m not here for your approval. I’m here because you will not endanger what I’ve worked all my life to build. You will not endanger Guinevere again.” 

Moiraine stood up, anger building up on her chest. It infuriated her, the way they talked about Guinevere, about her daughter, around her, as if she were any less concerned for her safety than them. “Sister, I truly am not—

“This is not your house. This is not your city.” She is no longer your daughter. “And I’m not your little sister anymore. All the eyes and ears you had here… they’re mine now. The head of the sanitarium, Celestin. The guard you hailed at the gate, Sandair. If you want to know where that redheaded boy in the inn went… you’re going to have to ask me very nicely, over tea.” Anvaere proclaimed, her lips turning into an arrogant smile, as she handed her a cup of tea, leaving Moiraine with no other choice than to accept it. 

Lanfear. It had to be her, it all fitted together. Rand was in danger, the fate of the world was in peril. Moiraine waited until Anvaere left, before she hurried into some more comfortable clothes: a loose pair of pants and a chape would do. She searched for a sword on a coffin she kept in her chambers, and placed it on her back, attached with a leather string. She opened the door to her room in a hurry, and almost collided into Guinevere, who was standing just there, with a box full of items on her arms, about to knock on the door. Moiraine found it hard not to gasp. She knew it’d be unavoidable, running into the girl, and she was prepared for it, as she had years of practing forcing her emotions confined, but nonetheless she found herself in stupor, each time she saw her. It feels like looking into a mirror. 

“Oh, Aunt Moiraine,” she muttered, equally shocked, grasping on the box about to fall out of her arms, “I just wanted you to give you these—

“I don’t have time, Guinevere.” She said, walking past her, not sparing her a second glance. It wasn’t easy, turning her down like that, but it was for the best. 

“Where are you going so late in the night?” The girl asked, curiosity evident in her voice, as she steadily followed her steps. 

“This doesn’t concern you.” Moiraine snapped at her, rather harshly, but it didn’t seem to upset the girl, who was too busy examing her thoroughly. 

“And with a sword on your back…” Guinevere muttered, suddenly going quiet, as realisation fell upon her. “You can’t touch the One Power.” She whispered. “You’ve been stilled.” 

Moiraine stopped abruptly on her tracks, and turned around, holding back tears, pursing her lips into a dangerously fine line. She stared at her, an intense rush of anger reaching towards the girl, as she silently begged her not to comment on it anymore. 

“Then take me with you.” Guinevere promptly said. “Whatever it is you have to do, whoever you need to fight, especially if you need a sword with you… take me.”

Moiraine fell silent, her mind racing. It did make sense, to have someone who could actually touch the Source go with her. Taking Guinevere with her, even if she were putting the girl in terrible danger, would be the cautious thing to do. The prudent, so evidently obvious and sensible thing to do… if finding Rand was indeed what mattered to her the most in the world. 

“No.” She finally snarled, getting on with her path. And yet Guinevere followed. Moiraine was reminded of something Siuan had told her a few years ago, shortly after Guinevere had joined the Tower. She’s as stubborn as her mother. 

“But Aunt Moiraine, you’ll need—

“I don’t need anything from you.” Moiraine said, forcing cruelty into her voice. “I can manage on my own, Guinevere.”

The girl stared back at her, dejection filling her eyes, as years of resentment and built up anger stiffened her body, yet keeping a straight face. “Fine.” She shrugged her shoulders, voice laced with poison. “Go. I don’t care.” 

Moiraine turned around, as she couldn’t stand one more second of all the loathing directed her way, and left. I’m so sorry I’ve failed you too.

********

Chapter 3 here!

[wafflelovingbatgirl]

AU where Moiraine (and Suian) joins the Red Ajah because there’s literally no better way to get consistent access to male channelers who might or might not be the Dragon.

Main points of divergence:

-Moiriane would not be permitted to sneak off so much since the Red Ajah seems to always travel in groups and get sent on tasks in groups more often

-No warders = no Lan :(

-Elaida would have a much harder time pulling Suian down since Suian isn’t from an opposing Ajah

-Rand, Mat and Perrin would trust her waaay less, even if they don’t initially know what Ajah does

-Moiraine & Suian would have to keep their mission even more secret, since it’s semi-antithetical to their Ajah’s purpose

I dunno, this isn’t greatly thought out but if I was going to spend my life chasing down men who might be able to channel, I would not pick Blue

[hazelcephalopod]

The Great Hunt Ch 23-24

A harrowing journey to nowhere but opportunity. And adjusting to new circumstances. All quite engaging and enjoyable to read.

Disclaimer: this is my first read thru but I’ve watched all of the show thus far and been spoiled on some book things. So… I’m going to lean into that. Enjoy figuring out what I know, and what I think I know, and what I just don’t. Also s/x I add commentary when I edit.

Spoilers for the first and second book and all of season 1 under the cut. Potential spoilers for later books -idk if they’re light spoilers or not.

Why did this take so long? That’s under the cut.

Really liked these chapters.

Quick note (you can just skip to the chapters but here’s why it took so long)- Tbh I’ve been lowkey dreading reading this chapter after what happened to Nynaeve in the last one. I kinda know what is to come so im more prepared (for what I know at least) but “Siuan pushes Nynaeve to anger to get her to channel” that was expected, not what actually happened -imo- “Siuan lowkey physically assaults Nynaeve” to anger her and get her to channel. I know there’s more of that to come but I was not expecting it from Siuan, or so soon. Ok sry for the rant, but that’s partly why this has taken so long. Also I’ve been sick, mostly I’ve been sick. Onto the actual chapters-

Ch 23: The Testing

TFoTv

POV Nynaeve

So far so good. In a chamber with Sheriam. Ok

Chamber has some weird arches and stuff that feels magic

Kinda culty feeling but more likely just some sort of ritual chamber (I later learn it is)

Sheriam is Blue Ajah.

Also lots of threes and fours. And silver.

7 AS from 5 Ajahs. (Blue, red, green, white, gray)

Ter’angreal lore! There are three types and they are basically magic items. Pretty rare. The arches are ter’angreal and obviously there’s the oath rod. Some require a fully trained channeler, some just someone capable of channeling, and some dont require channeling at all. Why ter’angreal were made is unknown but they are generally considered dangerous -I say b/c they only use a few of those they have. They don’t even know if they are using them for their original purpose (I suspect that means they aren’t). Srsly some/many are dangerous “Most, we have learned to our cost to avoid. Over the years, no few Aes Sedai have been killed or had their Talent burned out of them, learning that." -Sheriam. (I later learn this includes the one they are about to use. And they forgot those who maybe didn’t die but disappeared after suing one)

According to Sheriam the oaths are 1. To speak no word that is not true. 2. To make no weapon for one man to kill another. 3. “Never to use the One Power as a weapon except against Darkfriends or Shadowspawn, or in the last extreme defense of your own life, that of your Warder, or that of another sister.” The oaths were not always sworn but the Ass Sedai decided to start doing that to appear less threatening to the nations of the world -imho that has failed but understandable idea- sometime between the Trolloc Wars and the War of the Hundred Years. Sheriam says they have helped to keep the Tower around tho

So those dangerous magic items? Nynaeve is expected to walk into one. But it’s been used before so….. yup. It’s shows people their fears.

They don’t ask what the fears were which I do think is nice.

Oh this is the Accepted test?!

Apparently she was told a bunch about this on the way here but haven’t been told what. Here’s the rules of the test everyone gets only when in the room. 1. Once begun the potential must finish. If they refuse they “will be very kindly put out of the Tower” and never allowed back in. Will be given enough silver to last a year. 2. (Oof let’s just quote this) Sheriam- “To seek, to strive, is to know danger. You will know danger here. Some women have entered, and never come out. When the ter'angreal was allowed to grow quiet, they—were—not—there. And they were never seen again. If you will survive, you must be steadfast. Falter, fail, and. . .” 2b. Nynaeve could just go and become a Novice, she would then have two more chances to test here before being excused for my the Tower forever. If she leaves before the test properly starts.

“I must make Moiraine pay for what she has done to us. I must.” (Nynaeve) thinking to herself. Yea she’s gonna go for it.

Must be naked. Because of course

One chance to exit. One.

Now I’m excited. Weird dream realm and horror stuff is usually pretty good in these books

She’s in a maze. Seems like one of the weird dreams realms

She’s using the old just keep choosing one direction trick. 1:0 maze:Nynaeve

2:0

Now she’s seeing flickers in the corner of her eye and being followed. Or at least feels she’s is. Fun. /s

…I am having fun tho

Oh fuck. It’s Aginor. One of the Forsaken -have I been spelling that wrong? Oops- from the Eye

Mmm no.

Fuck yes. Fireball! Lightening redirect. Get him!

“A wind rose, howling down the passages against her, raging… she changed the flow, and Aginor tumbled along the

passageway like an uprooted bush. She touched the flow in the ground, redirected it, and stone walls collapsed around Aginor, sealing him in. Lightning fell with her glare…” (Nynaeve)

Exit! Yea get out!

I think you kinda are?! But that was terrifying, and apparently gave you a temporary mind wipe sooo. Also interesting -she wants to go after Aginor but needs to leave and is starting to vow revenge for whoever put her there because she doesn’t remember.

And half what thru that vow she’s out

Beat some ass that deserved it is what she did

“You are washed clean of what sin you may have done, and of those done against you. You are washed clean of what crime you may have committed, and of those committed against you. You come to us washed clean and pure, in heart and soul." -unarmed Red sister pouring water over Nynaeve’s head. Honestly these words concern me a little

Sheriam is apparently ginger. Which tbh I just now picked up on. (Dunno if it was mentioned before. No idea)

"No one knows… It seems real in memory, and some have come out bearing the actual wounds of hurts taken inside. Others have been cut to the bone inside,

and come back without a mark. It is all of it different every time for every woman who goes in. The ancients said

there were many worlds. Perhaps this ter'angreal takes you to them.” -Sheriam on if what Nynaeve experienced was real or not. Tho she doubts it takes one to another world or that it is even real, due to the strange rules it seems to follow. (Editor note I’m not sure she actually believes that or just, it’s what they need to hear)

The danger is real tho. Very very real

Oh… but apparently channeling isn’t supposed to be possible in there. B/c the how of doing so is forgotten.

Uhhh

“This ter'angreal was found during the Trolloc Wars... The first sister to enter was warded as strongly as she could be, since no one knew what it would do. She kept her memories, and she channeled the One Power when she was threatened. And she came out with her abilities burned to nothing, unable to channel, unable even to sense the True Source. The second to go in was also warded, and she, too, was destroyed in the same way. The third went unprotected, remembered nothing once she was inside, and returned unharmed. That is one reason why we send you completely unprotected. Nynaeve, you must not channel inside the ter'angreal again. I know it is hard to remember anything, but try." -Sheriam.

I mean… apparently you maybe fine to? Dunno. Fear still

Ok so the last one was the past. Onto the present!

Clothes this time! Nice simple brown dress.

Emonds field.

Oh no. This is about her fear of abandoning her town and leaving them without a Wisdom isn’t it? (I soon learn half right. It’s about the former but leaving them with a terrible Wisdom)

It’s Cenn Buie so it must be. Also the town looks worse for wear

Oh no. It’s Egwenes mom, except older. Uh oh. Noooo…

"Nynaeve? Nynaeve! Oh, it is you. Egwene? Have you brought Egwene back? Say you have." -Marin(testworld) al’Vere.

Mmm the new Testworld Wisdom sucks -like a lot- and Cenn is mayor. Big oof

Well… that one really sucked.

Yea I really don’t think they can see her visions or whatever of her Testworlds because the words for the first one seem more applicable here

"You are washed clean of false pride. You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul." -unnamed Red sister. Pours water on her. Again. I’m not saying there’s no connection but… this one felt worse in terms of she did a bad thing (from her perspective) (I soon learn I think that this was the worst one honestly. Like… having to leave your town to their doom is pretty effing traumatic)

Ah. They want it to be difficult. K. I’ll give them this one. Kinda (I later learn maybe, not)

“You must want to be Aes Sedai more

than anything else in the whole world, enough to face anything, fight free of anything, to achieve it. The White Tower

cannot accept less. We demand it of you." -Sheriam to Nynaeve.

Nynaeve is freaking out btw. For good reason. Also-"You seek to be Aes Sedai, to channel the One Power. No one should approach that with out fear and awe. Fear will keep you cautious; caution will keep you alive." (Honestly decent stance to have)

Dressed again! Thankfully. Very fancy dress this time. Ohhh she’s in Malkier except it’s nice there… yikes

Sooo. She and Lan are married and have kids and like are the king and queen of Malkier in this testworld. And she’s devastated and seems to remember a lot more this time. So…

Oof. Big oof

…also it’s always funny to me when rings are exchanged for marriage in like fantasy worlds. I know there are kinda reasons here but still. Hilarious to me

Oh no. One of her testworld kids is named Elmore after her mom! Oh nooo…

See Nynaeve/Lan is like straight up good romance. Imo (sry is that weird to say here? Ah well)

Oh fuck! She lost the arch! Oh she’s gonna make a new one!

…also she isn’t having difficulty channeling here which is interesting

Oh she made a new arch!

She freaking stigmata’d herself! Like literal thrown through her palms

Half way through TGH!

It also scarred when it should not have. Of course. The stigmata that is

And now Siuan and a representative from each Ajah is there. And Nynaeve is still naked. (Editors note. I don’t hate that she’s naked this time it’s been tasteful so far)

“You are washed clean of Nynaeve al'Maera from Emond's Field. You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to the world. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul. You are Nynaeve al’Maera, Accepted of the White

Tower… You are sealed to us, now.” -Siuan, pouring the water over her head now. (Editors note. I liked that one)

“The Amyrlin's eyes seemed to hold a dark glow. Nynaeve’s shiver had nothing to do with being naked and wet.” -(Nynaeve)

That was only 21 pages? Surprising. Did enjoy

Ch 24: New Friends and Old Enemies

TFoTV

POV Egwene

Yay! It’s Egwene!

This is really well written from the characters perspective and not any objective truth.

Accepted and Novice dresses are basically the same except Accepted have 7 small bands of color for the 7 Ajahs and the bottom

“The few times Egwene had been able to see the Wisdom, Nynaeve's eyes had seemed shadowed, as if she had seen things she wished with all her heart not to have seen.” (Egwene) on Nynaeve since she was raised to Accepted

Accepted Pedra, she’s in charge of Egwene or something

Ah right. Novices have to do the scrub work (Editors note- I meant scrub it it’s fine)

She’s been a Novice for like 12 hours and already hates it (I’ve already learned that’s pretty fair)

Reddish gold hair? Is that Elayne?!

It’s Elayne.

Yup! Because she’s met someone form there already! Lmao

Scut work! That’s what it’s called. That’s what the Novices have to do.

Lol. I was wondering if Elayne would have to do scut work. She does.

Apparently they study actual magic stuff from like dawn to maybe three pm? Whatever the fuck Trine is. (Editors note these are the times where I respect the worldbuilding and using different terms for things. But I am also confused. Like here)

I love that Egwene is like ‘who are you and what is your life?’ About Elayne.

Modest? Plz you are clearly trying to show off. And respect

They can both make light orbs. Nice

…and here comes out the existence the of willow switches they beat Novices with. K

Kinda are a kid Egwene. Don’t think you should be beaten regardless tho

I think the Tower should lower its standards. Just. A bit.

Half of them basically never leave the tower I’m pretty sure. Soooo…

What do Gray sisters even do? Why are white and brown separate, like really? Like fine but also… really?

Ah. Yea probably killing all the men who can channel and don’t have kids and also the Aes Sedai don’t ever seem to have kids might affect the population of those who can channel to be less. Yup. If it’s genetic (spoilers: I know it is)

I like that they decided to be like best friends within minutes of meeting each other. Lol. Dunno if that’s legit or like a mean girl thing or just an odd quirk in the writing

He is. Or at least was a shepherd. Not a lie. His life just got real weird real fast

Elaida is still looking for Rand. Lol (not fun for him but she has failed so far which I find amusing. B/c she was kinda the worst) (I later learn she’s still the worst)

Whitecloaks are apparently just camped outside the city rn. Just there

Else Grinwell?! Wtf is she doing there? Lol. Apparently Elayne doesn’t like her

They are such children. Tbf the fact that Rand has met so many girls that then have met each other despite being from places so far is hilarious. Likely ta’veren bs

It’s t-pose boy! Gawyn? I think? (I soon learn: It’s not) He’s sad? Wtf does he have to be sad about? Don’t like Warder training? (I wouldn’t be surprised actually) (I quickly learn I am very wrong)

Logain?! I missed the words “middle years”. Oh yea he’s sad. That makes sense. He’s just wandering about.

Uhhh. I mean. He seems pretty seriously depressed which I suspect could be it’s own danger. Is that too dark? I mean, look *waves hand at the entires series*

…(racing thoughts on how the men are genteled and I don’t think that would affect their genes. And some of them just seem to stay in the tower. But depression and trauma…) Nvm

According to Elayne the Tower did try for 300 years to cure the madness somehow and not gentle. But they couldn’t so they gave up.

Min?! Min is here! Yes!

Oh yea the WT apparently has many gardens

Oh yea that inn did get burned down in Baerlon. But the WT paid for it to be rebuilt so. Alls well they ends well. Probably. Min seems a bit irked still tho

It’s so fucking funny that every girl ever interested in Rand is here. At the WT amongst Aes Sedai. Who he’s terrified of. For good reason. Selene’s going to show up any minute now /j

Oh yea Min is no Novice. Just gets visions form the pattern or something

I wonder. Truly. What would happen if she had just said “no. Bye.” I think more folks should. But I’m equal opportunity, say no. Just in general to anyone with perceived power

“I'm not sure she always tells the truth. She said I'd have to share my husband with two other women, and I'd never put up with that. She just laughs, and says it was never her idea of how to run things, either. But she said I would be a queen before she knew who I was; she said she saw a crown, and it was the Rose Crown of Andor." -Elayne on what Min says she sees when she looks a her. Min also saw a severed hand that wasn’t Elayne’s. (Lmao that Min basically told Elayne she’d be one of the two women she’d be sharing her husband with and Elayne didn’t see my to pick up on that)

"A white flame, and. . .Oh, all sorts of things.” -Min on what she sees when she looks at Egwene

Oh it’s Galad, the snitch. And Gawyn, actually t-pose boy

“… he moved with cat-like grace.” -(Tgh) describing Galad.

Nooo. Horrid flirting brought to you by Galad/Egwene(?). Also Egwene keeps thinking of Rand. B/c of course

“That one will always do what is right. No matter who it hurts.” -Min on Galad.

"Our father was his father… You cannot deny that, unless you want to call Mother a liar…” -Gawyn on Galad. Who Elayne refuses to call her brother.

Gawyn is also ginger. Which I did not remember.

Idk what color hair Galad has. I don’t remember and I don’t see it in the preceding paragraphs

So Elayne had *a face* during the entire horror of flirting moments and it’s hilariously maybe not jealousy but disdain for Galad (tho I may read it as jealousy of Galad over Egwene. The gay shipping goggles will remain on! Thankfully the options are many)

Apparently Galad is just a fucking prodigy at sword-ing

How many shepherds have you met Gawyn? I doubt it’s many (i soon learn maybe not. But a farmer and a shepherd aren’t the same thing)

Tbf Rand is very weird. He wants to be boring so much tho. To a degree that is weird (I soon learn Gawyn has actually met many people. B/c of Rand. So, still weird)

“I have met all sorts of people, and they've met Rand al'Thor. Some do not even know his name… and he's shifted every one of their lives... You could almost think he was ta'veren… I wonder if meeting him will shift our lives in the Pattern?” -Gawyn. Ffs. Lmao

& “Egwene looked at Elayne and Min. She was sure they could not have a clue that Rand really was ta’veren.” -Tgh. Fucking comedy.

Uh the Pattern has decided that Egwene and Elayne are now the closest friends I guess?

…also Min.

Gawyn is so confused. Which honestly fair dude

I totally forgot he wasn’t wearing a shirt. And I don’t think Galad was either.

Honestly I think Elaida might mean Rand harm. Full honesty I do consider Gentling to be harm. So yea. But I think she might mean to do more than that. And don’t tell me the oaths don’t allow that. The oaths still allow for some solid stabbings.

Yea Elaida sucks. Elayne may be meeting that willow switch too and I’m dreading that tbh. Brutal

And now she’s turned her attention to Min. So… oof

POV change! To Min!

Oh. So Min was summoned by Moiriane and Elaida somehow knows that. Which Min believes only Moiriane and Sheriam should know.

Elaida’s curiosity over Rand continues. And Min is hopefully as good a liar as she believes herself to be.

[quinntamsin]

Reacts to Wheel of Time TV Series, S1E1-3

*Adjustes her serpent ring and her Green Ajah Shawl.*

I grew up on The Wheel of Time book series. I remember buying a stack of books and just tearing through it one entire summer. This was when the Crossroads of Twilight hadn't been written and Knife for Dreams was just a mention. I would say Iworld grabbed me hard when I first read it.

Episode 1 "Leave Takings", provides a pretty solid introduction to the world of the Aes Sedai and the Westlands (aka "Randland"). I like seeing a would-be dragon run from Red Ajah (Liandrin) at the start of the story. It really pushes this toxic feminist character at the forefront and how her actions at the White Tower will be much more impactful later on. The Two Rivers scenes were okay. I don't see a point in giving a wife to Perrin, but it does seem to make his much later awkward relationships much clearer. I'd say they built up the characters pretty well establishing relationships and even showcased a good amount of the danger of trollocs. My major critiques for this particular episode was the unnecessary addition of Laila. They added female character added to just be fridged. at the beginning of the series. I'm pretty sure this was added to emphasize Perrin's struggle with his trauma, but still grudging is a lazy ass trope.

Episode 2 "Shadow's Waiting", okay Shadar Logath and Nadashar (the evil shade) weeeplain creepy. Introducing Manetheren via a folksong was solid especially giving both Lan and Moiraine good points for some nice exposition. Eamon Valda was outright sadistic in the opener and makes me hate the Children Of Light and their questioners even more. Particular episode honestly did a really good job introducing the three of them and the misconceptions of the Aes Sedai.

Episode 3 "A Place Of Safety", wow, this was partials the best of the first three episodes. First, yes, the Creatures of the Dark are scary and deadly, but it was just normal humans be who are the worst. Dana is a creepy woman who morns her lot in life and speaks in a cult like trance near the end. Thom is amazingly portrayed and I adore his sing. Now the inclusion of a dead aiel, the victim of a hate crime, is a good way to introduce the prejudices of this world.

Thoughts:

-I like that we are using slang for the Myrddraal, Fade / Eyeless, it emphasizes their reaches in folklore vs the knowledge of them by more knowing people.

-I'm loving the seriously diverse casting of main and minor characters. This world feels inclusive.

-The foreshadowing of Padan is a bit obvious, but good.

Gay ideas:

-Vividky coloring the Aes Sedai in their Ajah was a blunt and good costuming call. I'm feeling the hard distinction between the Red vs Blue.

-I prefer the Adhvienda / Elayne the hardest, but im here for Rand / Matt

- The Westlands has a lot of pot we ntiak for queer and gay OCs.

-I may write a fanfic featuring a trans queer Aes Sedai who defeats a term rival!