#ch: mat cauthon

[caracarnn]

Every single time they both went home all that everyone asked and wondered about was the thought of whether or not he and Mat had found respective partners out in the city. At first it had just been the usual offenders that had even pestered Rand's father but then it had extended outward towards those that he never expected to hear it from. That included his own father. He looked at Rand expectantly as the years drew on and on and that was beginning to grow frustrating. Especially after Perrin had gotten married the conversation of it had only gotten worse. He ought to teach Perrin a lesson for making it harder on the rest of them. But then Egwene had come home with a fiancee' and everything had become even more burdensome.

It was during one of those slow nights in the city that Rand and Mat had come up with a plan over far too many drinks. They had decided that the two of them should just declare that they were in the throes of a deep relationship with one another and marriage was on the horizon. Whether that was a shock or not, Rand wasn't sure, but he knew that it would ease the barrage of questions that they were constantly attempting to field. That was good enough for the both of them. Rand was glad that they had decided on it completely before heading back home for a Spring weekend.

He had been attempting to read the room as Mat reached over to take up Rand's hand and they had announced it to the room full of both their families. Rand had wanted to laugh, actually laugh, but he had managed to keep that in check. They were rather convincing, he was sure, and the looks on everyone's faces had been worth the performance completely. They had left the two of them alone now and Rand waited until they were far enough from the door before he turned to look at Mat, letting out a small laugh.

"Do you think that they believed us?" He asked once he had dropped his hand from Mat's, looking out towards the door that was closed. "It does seem that they were utterly speechless. Have we ever gotten that kind of response before?" Probably not. It was something unheard of here: silence in The Two Rivers. What a bloody thought! - @luckhissoul

[agoldenlily-archive]

@luckhissoul​

“ you think that you can out swim me? “

[caracarnn-archive]

@luckhissoul​ THIS HURT TO WRITE AND NOW I HATE YOU this is our worst idea​

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there staring out the window, watching the way that the farm seemed to pass by in a crawl. Birds descended and then flapped away. Sheep bleated and the longer that he sat, the more he felt things beginning to become distant. He stared and stared and nothing at all became clearer. It was pointless. It was nothing but a mirage of the world that Rand al’Thor had once lived in. A mirage that wouldn’t clear no matter how long he hoped for its return to how it had once been. He remembers being a boy here, tending the farm with his father. He remembers growing up and thinking of Egwene as he laid out by that tall oak, plucking petals off a flower. He remembers running these fields with Mat and Perrin. He had been whole here. He had been alive. But now - now what was he? He had been just a young man when he had watched Egwene leave The Two Rivers with a parade of Aes Sedai. She had been gone years and Rand had felt her absence keenly. She had written only a few times and now never. Now she was Amyrlin. Now she was Egwene al’Vere, The Watcher of the Seals, The Flame of Tar Valon, the Amyrlin Seat. And she had Gentled him.

Remembering that he could Channel was like remembering a breath that had been stolen from his lungs and never given back. He felt a ghost. He was no longer the boy that had lived here, or the young man that had loved her. He was no longer living with that excitable fear of being able to Channel, finding it out mere weeks after she had left. He did not know what he was, only that he was something. He could find memories, he understood his place and his name and why he was still alive. A reminder. A symbol of what happens to men who dared to Channel. And how those thoughts burned.

Watching his father now he aches to go out and join him and yet getting up felt like moving a million broken things at once. He makes a low noise in his throat when he feels something pass over his mouth, startling to the moment and looking up at the one whose hand that belonged. He hadn’t realized the severity of his backing away until he noted the startled look on Mat’s face now that he stared into this familiar dark eyes. He was holding a napkin and Rand’s face flushed scarlet when he realized that he’d been wiping drool from off his chin. Quickly, too quickly, he reached out and snatched the napkin from Mat’s hand and tucked it close to his chest but did nothing with it. 

Tam never leaves him alone. With Perrin married it’s hard for them to be around him all hours of the day. Tam only leaves his side to work, which he was doing now - loading those wagons to bring to Emond’s Field. More often than naught it was Mat that was with him, sometimes Nynaeve. But Nynaeve also had things to do, the job of being Wisdom. Often he sat in her home, staring at the herbs and she gave him menial tasks. Mat always brought up the past. Sometimes it created a yearning for him but nothing at all could outmatch the yearning that crawled through his veins as he tried desperately to reach for the Source. That glimmering and seductive Power that refused to hearken to him any longer. That alluring force that was no longer his. 

They all knew what happened when a man was Gentled and how he wished he had the strength to leave them all. To just be done with it. Would it be such a loss to any of them? To no longer tend to him like a doll who had lost a reason to exist?

“I can do that myself.” He breathes out, turning his eyes out the window again. “My father might need help, are you sure you want to stay here?” Did he want Mat to go? It would give him more time to contemplate what to do. For Rand to sit there and try mercilessly to reach the Source. He knew Mat wouldn’t leave though. Mat was always dragged on but Mat was loyal. Right now, Rand felt, he was too loyal.

[highladyluck]

My Minor Meta

Part 3 of my Reference Posts series! These are the not-quite-as-comprehensive posts about the white-hot pulsating core of my WoT obsession, or posts about other WoT things I find interesting. Sometimes the line between these and jokes I take seriously is quality, length, or how much they shaped my thinking.

Categories:

The Science/Metaphysics of Wheel of Time

Mat

WoT on Prime!Mat

Tuon

Mat/Tuon

Mat & Other Characters

Other Characters

The Seanchan

The Ajahs

The Science/Metaphysics of Wheel of Time https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/642695973462786048/highladyluck-the-math-behind-adding-male-and Linking rules are based on electron valences

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/687528565697396736 Robert Jordan's Gals Law states that the power of a woman’s personality varies inversely with her height.

https://wot-tidbits.tumblr.com/post/636152027386380288/highladyluck-its-been-a-while-since-i-looked-at Age of Legends Moonbase truthing (also RJ dumped Africa into the sea)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28398306/chapters/69585366 Fic: Fly Me To The Moon, where Talaan din Gelyn and Bodewhin Cauthon teleport to the moon. Also invents a spacefaring backstory for the Sea Folk.

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/636134450633326592/one-of-the-most-irritatingly-compelling-things Every day I am haunted by Robert Jordan’s batshit worldbuilding

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/704437824685015040/wheel-of-time-theology-oh-yeah-the-devil-is The devil is real and he’s leaking out of hell

Mat https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/666229600066650113/eotw-reader oh my god Mat what is your problem

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/643398044203761664/in-honor-of-absolute-favorite-dumbass-mat-cauthon Early Mat Cauthon Playlist

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/634094870653550592/i-started-looking-up-mats-family-in The Theory of Big Cauthon Energy

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/642151079975534592/i-know-this-canonically-happened-in-the-gathering Mat's too good a liar to do elaborate backstories

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/681289701813108736/is-there-anything-word-of-the-creator-definitive https://www.theoryland.com/intvsresults.php?kwt=%27mat%27s%20luck%27 On whether Mat's luck is the dagger or ta'verenness (I'm firmly in the former camp)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30434337 Fic: How To Spot A Grey Man; relevant meta is the idea that Mat's ability to spot Grey Men comes from the dagger

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/658499271022280704/mat-cauthons-terrible-horrible-no-good-very Mat's #VampireProblems (this is one of my most popular playlists and it's been a really useful framework for me to think about Mat)

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/680481481243639808/robert-jordan-and-this-is-mat-cauthon-my-adhd RJ sent Mat to military school to fix his ADHD

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/667381653566603264/run-son-of-battles-playlist Run, Son of Battles Playlist

WoT On Prime!Mat https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/666111991091527680/been-thinking-about-the-wot-show-character-blurb Thoughts on the WoT on Prime character blurb for Mat

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/668701687303766016/thoughts-on-wot-on-primemat Thoughts on WoT on Prime!Mat

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/672024739162800128/i-like-this-observation-they-are-the-most The unreliable narrators got the most screen time increase in show vs book

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/703105973430206464/luckhissoul-wait-did-the-gifmaker-add-the-little foreshadowing win in S1

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/730438025904046080/i-liked-the-mushroom-tea-as-an-alternative-to Season 2 Mat

Tuon https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/686332178014093312/tuon-is-the-kind-of-asshole-who-looks-gift-horses this bitch looks gift horses in the mouth

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/662761130347855873/winters-heart-ch-14-you-certainly-were-not Tuon and fear

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/645230396513058816/tuons-empathy-doll-shot-he-remembered-the-face Tuon's empathy doll shot

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/664206707888635904/faile-and-fortuona-some-commonalities Faile and Fortuona parallels

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/640667946003415040/my-5-favorite-wasted-join-me-speeches-in-wheel Favorite wasted join-me speeches

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/648805384399749120/ok-remember-that-scene-in-tgs-where-rand-attempts The Rand vs Tuon scene I'm obsessed with

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/649354806063988736/tuon-i-have-some-knowledge-of-herbs-me-at Why Tuon knows first aid

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/651024860391342080/fortuona-athaem-devi-paendrag-playlist Tuon character playlist

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46184641/chapters/116270389 Fic: Daughter of Battles, Wheel of Fortuona (aka the fem!Mat/Tuon courtship retelling that is maybe saying something about gender but mostly saying a bunch of unsettling things about Tuon)

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/665901848609325057/how-it-started-how-its-going-matrim-cauthon-is Premise & teaser for the fic The Fox That Makes The Ravens Fly, which is basically me trying to get Tuon to commit to reforming Seanchan in the main book canon while still keeping her in charge of Seanchan troops at the Last Battle.

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/731430893058654209/for-the-fic-questions-3-4-17-and-37 actually a lot of people remember Hawkwing's face & I'm obsessed with kidnapping Mat's baby

Mat/Tuon https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/665656421206163456/mat-in-book-1-i-stole-this-so-the-accompanying the stealing is non-negotiable

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/647084040929886208/mat-correctly-reads-a-situation-mat-thinking the seed of all the superstition/prophecy/influenceability meta

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/634706790960037889/robert-jordans-like-alright-were-doing-a Spelling out the trip to the underworld

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/679997042603458560/mat-i-can-fix-her-its-just-gonna-take-a no fix! only make worse!

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/652249065525002240/tuon-and-mat-each-have-their-fate-hidden-in-the Mat and Tuon have their fates hidden in the other's name (absolutely excruciating puns warning)

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/738629196659703809/i-truly-thought-there-were-no-more-worlds-to Tylin is a pun too

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/710084122473857024/what-im-learning-from-the-kiss-marry-kill-poll oh god imagine introducing Mat to Empress Radhanan

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30425868 Baby's First Knife; relevant meta is the idea that Mat's first problem with raising a kid in Seanchan culture is going to be the assassination attempts. Not that the kids channeling won't be an issue down the line, but this one is big and urgent.

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/641433164386091008/for-the-fic-title-meme-lay-down-your-crown-and Outline for "Lay Down Your Crown and Sword" which is an exploration of Mat's immediate priorities post-LB (convince Tuon to abdicate; when that fails, kidnap baby.) The accompanying playlist is all Mountain Goats songs, so this is mostly a 'bad ending' for them.

Mat & Other Characters https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/190503592888/theres-a-bit-in-cot-a-cluster-of-rosebuds-about Abell is a used car salesman and you can fight me about it

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/612294199398760448/the-moment-in-amol-where-egwene-is-like-oh-shit Egwene and Mat trading the same thought

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/680549423170879488/mabus101-and-i-were-talking-about-your-mat-flicker Here's how Mat/Nyneave could happen

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/669388289337376768/setalle-anan-is-also-one-of-my-absolute-faves secondary characters in Mat's circus arc

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/723416667921776640 Perrin as the Dragon Reborn

Other Characters https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/636254191659188225/i-went-from-wow-i-hate-lanfear-shes-very-bad-at How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love Lanfear

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/644290325380251648/anyboli-highladyluck-just-like-every-time I love Elayne because she could do so many atrocities

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/673001095251050496/sixth-light-reading-the-wheel-of-time-companion The Green Ajah needs Elayne and her ter'angreal skills

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/695239911816691712/we-should-be-grateful-that-elayne-never-got-chance Mad scientist Elayne masterpost

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/683956402992087040/why-egwene-is-really-good-at-inventing-weaves Why Egwene Is Really Good At Inventing Weaves

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/639618641871224832/highladyluck-yall-is-galad-like-that-because Why Galad is Like That

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/636639559899348992/rating-the-forsaken-an-incredibly-subjective-list Rating the Forsaken

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/642309620823654400/wheel-of-time-relationships-where Assassination is a WoT love language

The Seanchan https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/611623395692544000/i-have-too-many-things-to-do-already-which-is https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/665252064193118208/wot-musing-the-seanchan-and-aiel-as-parallel extremely vague thoughts on the parallels between the Aiel and the Seanchan

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/701098314375020544/an-adventure-in-conlang-etymology-or-we-cant Mardhol ('We can't keep calling it Randland')

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/691590789349916672/a-tragic-update Ajimbura is proof that mainland Seanchan is not a monolith

The Ajahs https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/644381100851036160 How the Ajahs will change post-series

[satashiiwrites]

Promise Me You Won’t Let Me, VII: Joining

A bit of an early update.  Please note an increase in the rating as it specifically applies to this chapter. 

Title: Promise Me You Won’t Let Me, Ch VII: Joining

Fandom: Wheel of Time

Pairing: Mat Cauthon/Rand al’Thor, past Egwene al’Vere/Rand al’Thor

Rating: explicit

Other tags/warnings: angst—all the angst. Retelling of season 1 with a Cauthor lens, this will only end tragically. 

Fic Summary: 

Mat can feel that his time is limited but he’s got one thing he needs to do before he lets the darkness that is eating him bit by bit take him. Rand is desperate to help his best friend who is fading right before his eyes—he’s been cut off from everything else but he can’t lose Mat. 

The wheel may weave as it wills and sometimes two threads become tangled and inseparable. Or maybe they were always meant to twine together to make a new pattern.

Chapter Summary: Mat will take what he can if Rand is offering.

Read chapter VII here on AO3

[inmydrcams]

whe*l of time is lowkey exciting in terms of visuals cause omg fantasy has discovered mudéjar art! but they refuse to hire arab actors so it's like……… thanks for the aesthetics with none of the culture that influenced it…… and I mean sure that's how mudéjar art happened but we're not in the 14th century anymore, are we?

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 36

It’s all in the nuances

Chapter 36: The Death of Tuon

Somehow I don’t think that title means what it looks like it means.

We’re back with Mat, but Verin is here so hopefully that should make things interesting.

“My goal was to make my way to Tar Valon.” “Then how did you end up here?” Mat asked

That’s an entirely fair question, but the first thing my mind went to, when Verin said that, was that you know who else’s goal was initially to make their way to Tar Valon?

Rand.

And so far, he has yet to even set foot in the city. I just find that kind of fun to think about, because I hadn’t really given it much thought before. But that was his entire goal pretty much all through EotW.

In comparison to that, Verin getting sidetracked for half a book somewhere in the middle of…is Mat in Murandy still?...is small potatoes.

Bloody [bench] must have been designed by insane, cross-eyed Trollocs and built from the bones of the damned. That was the only reasonable explanation.

Somewhat cringing at this because it is so very not Mat, and feels like it’s trying too hard. Meh. Anyway.

“You can Travel. So if you intended to go to the White Tower, then why not just bloody Travel there and be done with it?”

“Good questions,” Verin said. “Indeed. Might I have some tea?”

What, you thought you were going to get answers?

Good luck. I’ve been trying for ten books now and still all I have are suspicions. And one of those suspicions is that Verin is just a massive troll and enjoys fucking with people.

Because of the holes in his memory, Mat’s first meeting with Verin was fuzzy to him. In fact, his memory of her at all was fuzzy.

I’m not actually sure having your memories intact would help much with that, honestly.

Studying her, her mannerisms seemed too exaggerated to him. As if she were leaning on the preconceptions about Browns, using them. Fooling people, like a street performer taking in country boys with a clever game of three-card shuffle.

She eyed him. That smile on the corner of her lips? That was the smile of a jackleg who didn’t care that you were on to her con. Now that you understood, you could both enjoy the game, and perhaps together you could dupe someone else.

One trickster to another.

I like little moments of recognition like this between characters. Neither says anything, but they both know, and each one knows that the other knows, and so the rest of the scene can proceed with this undercurrent of understanding.

Two characters who recognise something similar in each other – or who recognise each other’s talents, at any rate – and who just look at each other across the board and say ‘shall we play a game?’

And as the reader you’re invited in as well, because it’s not so much adversarial as almost-but-not-quite-competitive, a test of skill almost, a game in many ways. So it’s an open invitation to play, because as the reader you also have that little extra bit of insight…but not enough to know everything that’s going on. So, like Mat, we get to try to spot the aforementioned con.

Also, I just love that Verin and Mat are set side by side here because at first glance they’re total opposites, but by positioning them this way we see Verin as being…perhaps not quite trickster but certainly trickster-adjacent, herself. She’s not the roguish yet honourable young man with a jaunty hat and a cool spear; she’s a plump middle-aged woman with probably an inkstain or two on her clothes and an almost grandmotherly manner. And yet here she is.

I mean, not that we didn’t already kind of know that. But I love these moments where Verin is revealed again to be not entirely what she seems, yet in a way that suits her. It’s some good character development for Mat, as well. Everyone wins here, really.

Good luck getting Mat to admit outright to being ta’veren, Verin.

(Good luck getting Verin to say anything at all outright, Mat).

“But you can’t hide your light in [Rand’s] shadow, Matrim Cauthon.”

That sounds like what Melindhra used to say to him.

Also, I don’t know; Tuon described Rand as having a shadow like a mountain last chapter, and it’s all rather dark there these days, so if you’re going to try, now’s the time.

Casual mention of Verin having just been with Rand, which I think is anything but casual.

“How…did he seem?” Mat said. “Is he…you know…”

“Mad?” Verin asked.

Mat nodded.

“I’m afraid so,” Verin said, lips downturning slightly. “I think he’s still in control of himself, however.”

There’s very little…softening of the truth with Verin, either to herself or to others. Obfuscating of it to serve her purposes, sure. But denial or wishful thinking or gentle presentation of facts? Not so much. She deals with the world as she finds it, because wishing it otherwise won’t make it so (unless, perhaps, you’re the Dragon Reborn and a Fisher King analogue, in which case all bets are off). So she’s not going to soft-pedal her perceptions of Rand, even for a friend of his. Whether or not she’s completely correct is another question, but she’s not going to waste time trying to ignore what she sees.

I like Mat’s hesitant concern for Rand, here. He tried to break off their friendship as far back as TGH, but it never quite snapped completely. And I think he cares more about Rand than he might admit.

“I’m not convinced young al’Thor’s problems are completely due to the Power, Matrim. Many would like to blame his temperament on saidin, but to do that is to ignore the incredible stresses that we’ve settled on that poor boy’s shoulders.

There’s something about the way she says this, so matter-of-fact but at the same time so clearly aware and even sympathetic of something that very few characters even begin to acknowledge, much less understand, that lends a great deal of poignancy to this statement.

I think it’s maybe because it’s so matter-of-fact. It’s not sentimental, and Verin knew Rand earlier on but doesn’t have any particular attachment to him the way, say, Min or Nynaeve or even Egwene or Mat do. She’s not saying this out of sympathy or sorrow. And yet that gives it more weight, in a way; it’s a way of showing how clear that is to her, that she sees it as just a statement of fact. His humanity and youth, so easily forgotten by most, are just simple fact to her.

And that means so much, when so few in the world see the Dragon Reborn anymore as anything but a force, a power, a monster, a legend. Rand is a man who can channel. Men who can channel are driven mad by the taint on saidin. Therefore Rand must be mad. Therefore the things Rand does must be madness. The root of this must be the taint. And thus they can ignore everything else involved that might be harder to accept, everything that might cause an uncomfortable conflict of conscience.

Easier to see the Dragon Reborn as a necessary monster on the verge of madness, perhaps, than to see a tortured young man carrying far too heavy a task for a world that fears and even reviles him. Because the first option doesn’t ask you to do anything. It’s terrifying, certainly, but in a distant ‘nothing I can do’ kind of way. Or, for those who want to manipulate him, it gives them a very reasonable basis for doing so.

But Verin…Verin just looks at the situation and sees truth, apparently unclouded by sentiment or self-interest or fear or denial. And thus, perhaps ironically, ends up with a view of Rand that is far more sympathetic than almost any other character aside from those very closest to him.

He is only human. He is young. He is tired and desperate and in pain. And Verin sees that, and understands its effects. Even as she is ostensibly working to keep him alive until it is ‘time for him to die’. She does not allow herself to soften that necessity, to take the easy way out by blaming saidin or by looking at him as anything other than what he is.

Oh and by the way saidin is clean now.

Once again, Verin has this way of getting straight to the heart of things, and making these sorts of statements that are almost uncomfortable in their truth or insightfulness or just in what they force people to think about. But she does it with this mask of being just a typical Brown, lost in her own thoughts, unaware of the full effect of what she’s saying, drifting off on a tangent that just so happens to make everyone else uncomfortable. et there’s nothing vague or accidental or even truly tactless about it. She knows that this is the best way to get her thoughts heard, but in such a way as to not bring any sort of…suspicion? scrutiny? unwanted attention? upon herself.

And also in a way that doesn’t leave people a lot of room to evade the truth, even if just for a few seconds. It’s why her words often result in brief uncomfortable silences. Because she doesn’t leave an easy way out…until she decides herself to provide one, to bring things back to comfortable topics.

“I would argue that the cleansing itself is more like a pebble thrown into a pond. The ripples will take some time to reach the shore.”

“A pebble?” Mat asked. “A pebble?”

“Well, perhaps more of a boulder.”

“A bloody mountain if you ask me”

Again with the mountains. Yes, Mat, a mountain. An almost literally bloody mountain, you could say.

Flaming Aes Sedai. Did they have to be like that? It was probably another oath they took and told nobody about, something to do with acting mysterious.

Hey, that sounded almost like Mat! The ‘it was probably another oath’ part, I mean.

And now back to alien body-snatcher Mat. Ah well.

That’s okay, because it’s storytime with Verin! Who seems to have experienced the fantasy, ta’veren-induced equivalent of the classic and truly infurating ‘this flight has been delayed for approximately thirty minutes’ announcement happening every hour on the hour for eight hours while you remain stuck in the airport waiting area, unable to actually go anywhere, even though you really could have, because every time you consider going a bit further away the announcement promises that you’ll be boarding soon. (It lies).

No I’m not speaking from personal experience what are you talking about.

Except in Verin’s case it involves a truly absurd number of coincidences such as leaks and inn fires to prevent her from ever learning a place well enough to Travel from it.

“So? Mat said. “Still sounds like a coincidence.”

You’d think Matrim ‘I’m leaving now, Rand, for real this ti—oh look a battle!’ Cauthon would have a little more sympathy.

“I soon started to feel a tugging on me. Something pulling me, yanking at me. As if…”

Mat shifted again. “As if somebody’s got a bloody fishhook inside of you?”

As if the Pattern is exasperatedly trying to fix a chessboard that was set up by six-year-olds? “No, that piece goes here…oh just let me do it.”

“I was quite fatigued from my days staying up all hours because of fires, crying babies, and constant moves from one inn room to another.”

Oh the joys of business travel.

“It was then that I kenw for certain that I was being directed. Most wouldn’t have noticed it, I suspect, but I have made a study of the nature of ta’veren.”

Is there anything you haven’tmade a study of, Verin?

“I spoke with Tomas, and we determined to avoid gong where we were being pulled. […] I opened a gateway, but when we reached the end of our journey, we stepped not into Tar Valon, but a small village in northern Murandy!”

I’m laughing at how hard the Pattern has to work to get anyone to go to Murandy, I guess. Maybe it’s not actually ta’veren; it’s just a lot of money spent on a tourism campaign. Part of Roedran’s plans for economic development, no doubt.

“One thing bothers me, however,” Verin said. “Was there no other person who could have happened into your path?”

You’re just that special, Verin.

Now the question is why?

“First, we should negotiate my price for taking you to Andor.”

Okay no, apparently the question now, as far as Verin is concerned, is just the classic ‘how much?’

I can respect that.

Ah, so she wasn’t the one distributing the drawings of him, she just found one.

I’m pretty sure saidarisn’t a verb, but then, Mat used ‘Aes Sedai’ as a verb when he was still being written by Robert Jordan, so…whatever. It’s probably the least out-of-character part of the sentence, which might be saying something.

“I received this paper, Matrim, from a Darkfriend,” she said, “who told me – thinking me a servant of the Shadow – that one of the Forsaken had commanded that the men in these pictures be killed.”

Oh, so it was about that after all.

More importantly though…*squints at Verin* any particular reason he thought you were a servant of the Shadow? That’s some extremely Aes Sedai phrasing right there…

She thinks Mat should go into hiding? That’s…extreme. Though it’s kind of what he’s been doing for the last several books, in a way, if not necessarily always by design.

“I’m always careful,” Mat said.

Presented without further comment.

She slipped a small folded piece of paper out from under the picture. It was sealed with a drop of blood-red wax.

Mat took it hesitantly. “It is?”

“Instructions,” Verin said. “Which you will follow on the tenth day after I leave you in Caemlyn.”

He scratched his neck, fronwing, then moved to break the seal.

“You aren’t to open them until that day,” Verin said.

NOW WHAT DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF?

Mysterious envelopes from an Aes Sedai, that must not be opened just yet, not while she’s here watching…

This has always boded well before. As Mat has every reason to know, having read another of them and seen a third handed over.

Mat wants no part of this agreement, though. Really? You’d rather walk twenty days to Caemlyn than wait ten days there?

Then again, promising to follow mysterious instructions given to you by an Aes Sedai you recognise as being not entirely what she seems, is…well, I suppose I can’t completely fault him for being wary. So here we are, at a question of whether or not to trust an Aes Sedai.

Is this her game, here? Which choice does she actually want him to make? Could it be that she knows he distrusts Aes Sedai and the One Power and also hates being told what to do, and so is presenting this to him in such a way that she knows he won’t open it? Though in that case, why? It reminds me a little, perhaps, of her giving Egwene the dream ter’angreal but not Corianin’s notes. Yet it also seems a little too convoluted; there would have to be some reason why she had no choice but to give him whatever instructions are in that envelope, and yet also not want him to follow them. Occam’s Razor would certainly suggest the simpler answer: she does want him to read them. But…I just don’t know.

“I might not need you to go through with the contents. I hope to be able to return to you and relieve you of the letter and send you on your way. But if I cannot…”

So there is a scenario in which she doesn’t want the instructions followed. Which means it’s possible she doesn’t want them followed at all, but has to give them to him for some reason…and nothing she’s said has narrowed it down even if we trust that she is bound by the first Oath. Which at this point I wouldn’t put any money on. On either side of that bet.

What instructions could she have for him, that are so conditional? And on what? WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING, VERIN?

What might you not be able to return from?

Who are you?

“The compromise, then?” Mat said.

“You may choose not to open the letter,” Verin said. “Burn it. But if you do so, you wait fifty days in Caemlyn”

A choice between knowledge but being bound, and ignorance but freedom. How…perfect a dilemma, really, for one who so embodies Odin and the trickster archetype.

But what does Verin know? What is going to happen in Caemlyn between ten and fifty days after she leaves? She has to know something; otherwise the waiting seems too arbitrary.

“Twenty days,” he said.

“Thirty days,” she said, rising, then raised a finger to cut off his objection.

She had to have known he would try to bargain with her. So, between ten and thirty days after she leaves him…what? What instructions would be relevant after ten days, but irrelevant before ten and after thirty? What is going to happen? All I can think of is something to do with Elayne being crowned as Queen, maybe, because just about everything else from that storyline was more or less wrapped up when we left Caemlyn at the end of the last book. Or something to do with the Borderlanders?

I can’t figure it out, and I also can’t work out what angle Verin is playing here, what she even wants Mat to do, which side of the compromise she wants him to take. So I can’t figure out which one he should take.

Verin’s pretty damn good at this.

Verin eyed him, a hint of worry on her face. He couldn’t let her know how pleased he was.

But we also know, from their brief moment of mutual recognition at the start of this scene, that she might know anyway. Or that she might be letting worry show deliberately. Or…

She folded up the picture of him, then took a small leather-bound satchel from her pocket. She opened it, sliding the picture inside, and as she did, he noticed that she had a small stack of folded, sealed pieces of paper inside just like the one he was holding.

What are you up to, Verin Sedai? Because this feels very like what Moiraine did when she knew she was about to…go away.

A stack full of mysterious letters? Instructions not to open them until after she leaves? A very vaguely worded statement about hoping she’ll be able to return to collect them?

She hasn’t told him ‘you will do well’, but other than that, this sure looks like a…not a farewell so much as a final play of some kind.

Also she can’t have let him see those letters by accident. So does she want him to wonder? Why?

Why was Verin being so cryptic?

GOOD. FUCKING. QUESTION.

Though it’s hardly a remarkable occurrence; she’s been cryptic for ten damn books already.

Tuon was dead. Gone, cast aside, forgotten.

That’s a fun way to start a POV. A statement not of identity, but of nonexistence. Of the relinquishing of an identity, the death of one.

Fortuona was empress.

OH

MY FUCKING GOD

FORTUONA.

Fortune rides like the sun on high, with the fox that makes the ravens fly…

Fortune. Fortuona. She’s Lady Luck.

I can’t decide if that’s brilliant or over the top. Maybe a little bit of both. It does give a rather excellent double meaning to that line of the Prophecies.

Either way, she’s standing in front of the forces she has assembled for, presumably, an attack on Tar Valon. So…we’re doing this.

Fifty sul’dam and damane pairs, including Dali and her sul’dam Malahavana, whom Fortuona had given to the cause. She had felt the need to sacrifice something personal to this most important of missions.

Um, Tuon? Those are people. So yes, you are sacrificing something personalin that you are sacrificing a person. Who herself has no choice in whether or not to be your own personal sacrifice so that you feel like you’re truly invested in this.

Though for some reason Rand’s thought a few chapters ago about Min, that if she died, he would add her name to the list and suffer for it comes to mind. These are people, and their lives have meaning beyond the pain their deaths would cause you.

But of course, to the Seanchan, Malahavana is simply property. So the greatest cost, if she dies, is not to her or her family, but to Tuon. Which is fucked up. Hot take: slavery is bad!

Fortuona looked down at the soldier before her, laying her fingers on his forehead, where she had kissed him. “May your death bring victory,” she said softly, speaking the ritual words. “May your knife draw blood. May your children sing your praises until the final dawn.”

That doesn’t sound like a blessing you give to someone who has any hope of returning. This soldier is one of five, so maybe it’s a special suicide mission? To do…what?

Their assault would begin in darkness

How…appropriate. It was made possible – or made certain – by the darkness surrounding Rand, and such an attack serves the Shadow far better than it serves the Light, by bringing even greater strife and division amongst those that should be united.

They really needed that treaty.

It speaks to why Rand suppressing his ability to feel, deciding there are no limits left to him, losing sight of what he’s fighting for, and pushing only for the Last Battle itself and nothing beyond that, is disastrous on more than just a metaphysical/teleological standpoint. It’s not just an issue because this is a fight between Good and Evil and so the champion of Good must embody that ideal. I do think there’s an element of that, of course – it’s where the Fisher King imagery comes in, and the notion of the land being one with the Dragon and vice versa – but there’s also the practical fact that if you’re terrifying and cold and surrounded by an aura of darkness, people aren’t going to want to make peace treaties with you. Or be motivated to fight for your cause. Or listen to you at all. Or have any hope themselves of what might come after, because the examples and expectations being set are so dark.

It all blurs together at some point, the practical and more philosophical reasons, but there’s definitely a practical aspect there. It’s hard to win a fight you no longer have any reason to want to win. And it’s hard to win a fight when you look more like the thing you’re fighting than the thing you’re fighting for, because other people will see that. People who should be on your side will see that. And they, like Tuon, will draw their own conclusions and act accordingly.

Oh hey one of these special five is a woman. At least one. I like that this is specifically shown, in addition to the more general statement that over half the Fists of Heaven here are women. General statements are a lot easier to make, and are sometimes used as a bit of an excuse, or a halfhearted ‘see, look, we gave you what you wanted’. Specifics help bolster that. Even if in this case the specific in question is a woman being sent on a suicide mission to fight for the enslavement of women who can wield Power. You can’t have everything.

(I should clarify I’m being facetious there; I don’t think the Seanchan staging an assault on the White Tower is specifically gender-coded in that way. And I do genuinely appreciate seeing women amongst the elite forces, because that’s cool, all other issues with the Seanchan aside).

Oh. Bloodknives. They’ve been mentioned before, but only in the most offhand of comments.

The pure black stone ring each one wore was a specialised ter’angrealthat would grant them strength and speed, and would shroud them in darkness

That sounds quite a lot like the benefits of the Warder bond.

The incredible abilities came at a cost, however, for the rings leeched life from their hosts, killing them in a matter of days.

That also sounds a little like the costs of the Warder bond. Of a bond that is broken, anyway.

The whole thing also smells of a secondary purpose, introduced like this so late in the game. Not sure how, precisely, but I’ll be keeping an eye on these ter’angrealthat have now been placed on the mantle.

These five would not return. They would stay behind, whatever the results of the raid, to kill as many marath’damane as they could

Oh.

Was this what Min foresaw, when she visited the Tower in TSR and saw death and blood on so many faces? And knew it would all happen within the same day? The fact that Elaida’s coup took place so soon after made it seem like that was what Min had seen, but what if it was actually a viewing of this attack? If so, that’s truly impressive use of foreshadowing and misdirection. Well played. *slow clap*

Fortuona kissed the last of the five Bloodknives, speaking the words condemning them to death, but also to heroism.

I love this sentence, because the structure of it implies that heroism is also a condemnation. They’re presented as illusory opposites, but the same verb applies to each. Condemned to heroism. It’s a concept and a way of looking at things that I love, and actually it’s not at all out of place in this series. Just look at Rand.

That whole sentence reminds me of Rand, really. Condemned to death and heroism. Destruction and salvation. Condemned to be the saviour of the world, and reaching a point where it’s hard to tell, between death and heroism, which is the cost and which is the reward.

And the soldiers are off. No turning back now. I hope you’re ready, Egwene. It might be your last and best chance to pull the Tower together. A common enemy…

As the final light of the sunset died, they struck northward.

There’s something very appropriate about that. The final death of the light, the vanishing of that last chance for reconciliation as Rand walked away; it felt like a victory for the Shadow, a fracturing of the Light.

Also, even striking northward has something of a double meaning. The Blight lies north, but still they fight each other. They should be heading there, as the Shadow stretches across the land and the last battle comes. As the sunset dies they should look north. But not like this.

It could be the beginning of a bold new tactic. Or it could lead to a disaster.

Travelling, gunpowder, aerial assaults. They’ve changed war, and that isn’t something that they can just…step back from, once the Last Battle has been fought.

“We have changed everything,” Fortuona said softly. “General Galgan is wrong; this will not give the Dragon Reborn a worse bargaining position. It will turn him against us.”

She sees. She understands what that negotiation was, and what its failure has cost them. She does not see any other decision she can make – and given what she saw of Rand, it’s hard to see how she could think otherwise, and hard even to disagree with the underlying thought there, that he is dangerous and cannot be allowed to claim more power, as he is – but Tuon is very good at what she does. She understands nuances of politics and power and strategy, and she knows what this will do. But she also does not see an alternative.

Or should I be calling her Fortuona, now? It’s hard when fictional characters change names mid-story; I like it, as a storytelling device, because it’s such a good way to convey a sense or change of identity, but I never then know how to refer to the character, especially in something like this liveblog. And I’m not at all consistent – I call Moridin by his new name but I’m still referring to Tuon as Tuon rather than Fortuona, and I’m not even sure what I do with Egeanin/Leilwin.

“And was he not against us before?” Selucia asked.

“No,” Fortuona said. “We were against him.”

This is excellent. The subtle but at the same time vast difference between those two. The fact that Tuon can so clearly understand this, and what it means. They were his enemy. Now, because of what they do today, they will make him theirs.

Tuon isn’t always the most sympathetic character, largely because she came to the story late, is from a completely foreign culture to the rest of the narrative, and holds some views that are…difficult to reconcile, for a modern reader. But it’s moments like these that make her work, I think. This ability to see beyond what most do – not to change her mind, necessarily, but to be so perceptive and to understand the way people think and work. To be able to look at and judge her own actions and decisions, and to understand the implications.

She’s not going to war against the Tower – and making an enemy of the Dragon Reborn – just for shits and giggles, or even because of a clash of ideologies. That plays into it, because she believes her view to be the right one, but it goes deeper than that. And she understands consequences and tradeoffs and costs. She can recognise that yes, they were against him. And that this will not fix that, but will instead likely exacerbate it. And also that she has no other choice.

But we can sympathise with her more, because we believe that thought process, even if ours might be different. She doesn’t simply press blindly ahead with a single agenda; she looks at the whole situation and understands what her options are and what the results will likely be of each. And because she’s so perceptive, and so strategically capable, we can then trust her more, in a sense, when she does make a decision that sets her against most of the other sympathetic characters. So instead of being a villain by default, she gains much more depth and a certain level of sympathy.

Anyway, this is of course going to end well. To make an enemy of Rand, as he is now?

Though perhaps the more interesting question is, what will Egwene do in the face of her dream coming true? It seems like she could use this to unite the Tower around her. But I also wonder if maybe, just maybe, she could do here what Rand could not. There would be a certain poetry in that, for her own arc.

Next (TGS ch 37) Previous (TGS ch 35)

[astrometriia]

You three are t a ’ v e r e n

[agoldenlily-archive]

@luckhissoul​

“ no, no he’s not here - keep going. “

[caracarnn-archive]

@luckhissoul​

They were lost. That was the plain and simple of it. These bloody creatures seemed to have the Dragon Reborn in their clutches. What would happen if they ended up keeping him here forever? What would happen to the world and everything that had to happen in order to save it? The idea curled under his skin and choked life from him. He stared at the long hallway before them and remembered what Mat had told him about those stories Birgitte had imparted to him. Dying in here, after what had felt like forever. He couldn’t do that. Would the Pattern allow that? Or if he failed here would the Pattern simply adjust so that things could settle back into balance again? The idea that he was so replaceable was something that made him seethe somewhat.

Noal was already gone and Thom didn’t seem in very good shape. He could use the Power on them but what happened if he did that? What would Balefire do if he were to blow a whole through this entire Tower? He was almost sure that would destroy everything and throw all of them into a mire that not even Mat’s luck could get them out of.

And then there was what to do with Moiraine. She was still unconscious. Every now and then her lips would move as she laid her head in his lap. There was that angreal around her wrist and she looked exactly the same as she had been the last that he had seen her. Guilt strung through him as he stared down at her unwaking face. Her dark hair like silk between his fingers, her face soft and untouched. She had been preserved nearly perfectly and so much of that unnerved him entirely. He had been the reason that she had jumped through that Doorway and Rand couldn’t shake the thought of it.

A mist of emotion clouded his eyes before he swallowed down the thick of it as he turned towards Mat - who looked just as lost as anyone. He had done what he could with his Talent regarding Healing, which wasn’t much, to heal what he could of that wound where his eye had been taken. His heart sank. It wasn’t only him that would or could be lost today. They all could be and was it simply on account of what he could not bring himself to do with Lanfear?

“We can’t just sit here.” He says adamantly, as he passes his hand slowly down one side of Moiraine’s face, choking down the emotions that refuse to stay down. He’ll throttle them if he has to. “She needs to get out of here.” Would that be the only time that her strength would be revived? He needs her to wake up. He needs to look into her dark eyes and have her absolve her of whatever guilt he had. Bloody selfish, he knew that. “Mat, there has to be something that you can do. From Birgitte’s stories or from the first time that you had been here...” He urges, trailing off as he stares almost desperately into Mat’s eyes. 

[agoldenlily-archive]

There was something cold that lingered in the air. Something damp and cold that stood up too well against the blanket that she had around her shoulders. The day was gray, she could practically see the threat of rain start to whisper across the skies. It was beautiful in spite of the coldness of it but it seemed the perfect day to follow what had happened the night before. There was little else that was fitting enough for what she had managed to do, what she had doubted she could do and yet had succeeded perfectly in spite of her doubt.

The hole from the night before must still be there, muddy and messy from the spell she had used to separate the dirt. Light, she thinks that the book she had taken with her as well must still be out there, buried under dug out mud and falling rain. It had been terrifying the night before but no one that she called told her that they had witnessed anything peculiar about the weather. So it had just been here. That was a good thing, that must mean that her magic was still in her own control. It had nearly been a tempest and she had fought against it as she shouted the words above the harrowing winds as the dirt separated and then she had seen the peeks of skin, the fall of matted hair. The storm hadn’t died down until she had managed to drag him into the house and then she had collapsed right there next to him from utter exhaustion.

This must be some kind of ridiculous sight. The fact that he had woken up before her must have been alarming to the poor man. Man? Was he a man? The thought was something that rang about in her head now. The wondering what she had conjured up. A man, surely, by looks alone. But what of the legend? What of the lore that was spoken of him? They spoke of him as though he were a monster. Someone buried here on the spot where she lived. But in her own community there were whispers of how these stories were fabricated by those that had feared him and nothing more. Blame her bloody curiosity but she had thrived on those words and she had found the spell powerful enough for the task.

Now they sat across from one another in the small living room of her cottage. They were both wrapped in blankets, her dress steaked with dirt and his...skin streaked with dirt also. Her skin colored at that. He sat there without a single stitch on! She really hadn’t thought that he would come out appearing to be this way and yet there he sat. Bloody legends grasping at her through her curiosity. If she had known! Well, maybe she might have gone through with it anyways. She was rather lonely out here. No one liked the presence of a witch in the villages. Even if they did enjoy the herbs she managed to provide.

“Are you hungry?” She fumbled out but didn’t raise her eyes. She didn’t even know if he knew what hunger was. Or maybe he was a bloody monster and hunger meant that he would devour her? Light! She hadn’t thought of that. She had thought this to go entirely differently anyways. Something far more climatic. Something far more....something. Not the two of them huddling here in her living room, shivering under blankets against the cold from outside. 

Finally she gets a look at him and lets out an eased breath. He looked as uncertain as she did. Just a man. That was all. His curly hair was dirty and a mess. His green eyes seemed sad and something about the way he kept lowering his eyes, his lashes whispering briefly against his skin with his blinking, made her heart sink. What must he be feeling? How must he think? What did he think of her? Some random witch conjuring him up from his rest? Unless, of course, the stories were true and he had been put there centuries before.

“How long were you buried under there?” She asked in a soft whisper, hoping that she didn’t make him jump from his skin for breaking the silence. - @luckhissoul​

[caracarnn-archive]

@luckhissoul​

This wasn’t the way that this mission was meant to go. Not at all. He had been close to the most important part and yet now things seemed to be extended, elongated and Rand felt the stretch. He also was almost sure that Mat bloody Cauthon - Rogue pilot fighter extraordinaire - was not meant to be here with him. He had simply rode up in that bloody ship of his and had announced that he was taking him to wherever it was that he needed to go. Of course, Rand had questioned why it was that he had known where he would be but those questions were left out to dry seeing as he understood just how important his own mission was. 

It was the first mission of his that might determine whether or not he was ready to work on his own. As an actual Jedi Master. The idea thrummed inside of him with excitement. His Master, Lan, was someone who had not always been easy but just the other day he had announced that he thought that Rand just might be ready for whatever trials the Jedi Council would have in store for him. Someone in the Senate was sick, someone important, and Rand would bring the Bachani blossoms to them. Those blossoms were off planet and they were near to it now.

If only Mat bloody Cauthon would stop making stops so that he could taste the famed alcohol on this planet.

Attempting to compose himself Rand locked his hands behind his back as he made his way to the bar that he was almost sure that Mat was inside. Of course those were the places that Mat would be lost in. He would be drinking, he would be near drunk. Of course he would but maybe if that were the case then Rand would be able to pilot the ship himself and head off in the direction that he needed to go in.

He had his hand on Mat’s shoulder and was herding him towards his ship, nearly stuffing him through the hatch. “Get in there and power up the ship.” Although it didn’t really show Rand was beginning to start feeling that he was starting to like this Pilot, unlikely friendship and all that. “I’m going to fly us to where I need to go then we’ll see about getting you drunk on another planet.”

[agoldenlily-archive]

@luckhissoul​

sometimes just looking at him gave her an agitated feeling. sometimes just meeting his eyes made her feel like she should box his bloody ears! as though he were some kind of King stomping around the palace. it mattered little to her that he was indeed an Emperor she insisted that it didn’t matter here. his lands were far away from Andor so that was what counted to her. besides she hated the very fact that she had agreed to this. of course arranged marriages weren’t often a practice in Andor but when they were they came with copious amounts of rewards on either side. gold and land and strong alliances. this was a good trade but she was still bloody angry for it! angry at herself because no one had told her to do this. even Dyelin told her that she needn’t do it, that she would not be happy once it was done with.

nodding to one of the liveried servants she strides past them into her rooms, sighing heavily when she finds that Mat is in here. he’s sitting there, his boots up on the ottoman in front of him. he’s flipping through reports that Norry had brought and she feels that feeling of being invaded crawl under her skin. light, she wishes that he wasn’t such a goat kissing idiot then maybe she might excuse him for the other things that he does. she supposes that he’s a good fighter, he also looks good most times when he doesn’t open his mouth, and sometimes at night when she finds herself in his arms - light, no! she refuses to think of him that way.

“ what are you doing here? “ she questions, walking right to where he’s sitting and using her leg to nudge his from off the ottoman. doesn’t he have any manners? “ and why are you looking through my papers? I strictly remember Norry being MY manservant and not yours. “ she reaches out and plucks the reports from his hands before straightening and folding her arms over her chest. “ and don’t you have your own rooms? I seem to remember me assigning them expressly for you. “ unless he meant to - tonight - a flush rises to her face but she attempts to compose herself in spite of it, lifting her brow with expectation. “ how did you get past my guards anyways? “ she questions, keeping her chin ever so tipped upward. “ speaking of - please stop gambling with them. gambling distracts them from their duties. “

[agoldenlily-archive]

She’s nervous. She hadn’t thought that they would come so soon. Only recently she had seen them and that just meant that, maybe, they had heard something about how she had gone against the rules. The word that she always associated with them was a coven, a Vampire coven no matter how many flaming times they fumed at that statement. They weren’t witches, they would declare, and she would laugh behind her hand so that they wouldn’t catch her. Constantly they brought her before the elders to remind her that she wasn’t taking this life seriously enough or that she wasn’t acting in the way that a Vampire ought to. She had been Turned some time ago when she had been home with her mother during a raid of the palace. She had been stolen and had been unable to go home because she was collateral damage, a royal hostage in death so to speak. She hated what had happened to her and yet the lifestyle that she lived now wasn’t at all the horror she had assumed that it would be. She actually enjoyed herself. Now that had been a surprise.

What had been the greatest treasure of her life now was the ways that she could help people. She had been doing so for sometime but she had never actually Turned anyone before. Not until she had been walking down the boardwalk one evening and had heard a scuffle followed by the overwhelming scent of blood hanging in the air. She had followed the sounds, the scents and then found herself found herself staring down at the body of a young man. He had been freshly stabbed, blood pooled around him and yet it seemed like he was hanging onto life vigorously. That had impressed her, awed her even. Which was perhaps why she had lowered herself to her knees and Turned him, saving his life just like that. 

And just like that she had broken every law imaginable. She was not allowed to Turn anyone and yet here she was. Mat Cauthon was her fledgling and over these few months - light, maybe he was more than that. She had to stop herself from thinking that because he could read her mind. If she had known that maybe she wouldn’t have Turned him at all! That was bloody stupid. She didn’t want him in her mind! Sometimes he was too much and sometimes he looked at her too closely. Maybe she liked it. But those were all thoughts for another day. Another day when she hadn’t woken up in his arms and gone to get dressed only to get the message that the Elders were coming.

“You have to hide.” She says, fumbling for a way to keep him out of the way while the Elders were around. The Coven would perhaps take everything away from her if they found out. She steps towards the bed and reaches her hand out to grab at his, tugging him up to her. “Come on, get up, you’re a bloody Vampire why are you sleeping so long?” She all but complained, stamping her foot and waiting on him expectantly. If they find you here, she began in his mind as she continued tugging, they’ll probably toss you out in the sun! - @luckhissoul​

[agoldenlily-archive]

@luckhissoul​

She’s been watching him for too long, standing near the window as the Autumn rays whispered down onto them. He’s resting back against the pillows, a smile on his face and glistening in the depths of his eyes. Her baby is resting there on his chest, her little fingers curled around his. Her baby. No. Theirs. She had his hair, a mess of wild curls and her wide blue eyes. She was beautiful and that beauty eclipsed everything else that existed outside of this room. The only thing that mattered was here in this room. His smile on his face, their daughter’s sleepy smile on her little and that soul deep feeling that grew in her as she watched them together.

For months she had studied the list of casualties, each time someone new was added Elayne held vigils and sought out their families. Only there was a a relief that filled her each time that his name was listed. Each time she found that he would come home to her once the war was over, and only then. She knew full well that he wouldn’t leave until his men were all allowed to leave too. That loyalty and care was something that Elayne admired and had initially fell in love iwth. Even though it was a complaint indeed her marriage to Doilin was something that she couldn’t excuse herself with. No, she did believe that this was the only way to stay sane without losing bits of herself the longer she lived in a shadow tainted Andor. Only this was hardly happening because of that. No, this was happening because they had met and loved one another and had created something beautiful in the form of that little girl laying on his chest. Maybe one day they could figure this out. Maybe one day she could figure out to save her nation or how to be more bloody loyal even. Only for now Elayne is simply glad that he’s come back to her in one piece.

“When do you have to go to the palace?” She questions as she sweeps in and sits on the edge of the bed. She’s close enough to feel him, to settle in him. He had been her protector for so long now until he had been sent away. It had been hard living without him but she had tried getting used to it. She reached her hand out and brushed back some of his hair that had fallen, a faint smile on her lips. “I almost don’t want you to go.” She definitely didn’t want him to go. And she also knew that she would have to be there too, that would prove to be the most difficult.

She switches her hand, starting on brushing her fingers through Elodie’s hair instead. “I think that she might want us to stay right here. Just the three of us.” She laughs softly. But wasn’t that her hope? That eventually maybe it would be more than something illicit. This was more than that and having to play otherwise where she was a Queen - that was bloody torture. “That’s a normal enough request from our little one, isn’t it?”