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“I can’t believe a night here is more than a month at the Winespring Inn,” Rand said as he pushed open the door to their new room.
Mat shuffled in after him. “Better than the road.” He shouldered past Rand further into the room, and then he stopped in his tracks. “There’s…only one bed.”
Rand felt his cheeks heating up. “I wasn’t sure we could afford a second. We don’t know how many nights we’ll have to be here and we haven’t got much money left, and this was the cheapest room they had,” he explained quickly, almost defensively. It was a perfectly reasonable line of thinking, and in fact anyone would call him quite sensible for it, so why was he blushing?
Thankfully, Mat didn’t say anything more about it and instead went straight to the bed and collapsed onto it with a groan. He curled up on his side facing the wall, away from Rand. Rand hesitated, but his feet were killing him and there was nowhere else to sit, so he perched on the edge of the bed next to Mat, letting out his own sigh of relief at finally having a mattress again, even if it was thin and lumpy.
They were quiet for a while, and Rand thought Mat had fallen asleep until his voice broke the silence. “Tell me again.”
Rand’s heart ached. “Mat…”
“The little girl on the farm…”
“It wasn’t you, Mat,” Rand said steadily. A hundred times he must’ve said these words this past month, but he’d say them a thousand times more if that was what it took to make Mat believe them. “It wasn’t you, Thom and I both saw it.”
“Thom’s not here!” Mat snapped, turning over to look at him, his eyes wild and scared. He let out a shaky breath and rolled over again, breaking the brief moment of eye contact; he so rarely met Rand’s eyes these days. “Thom’s dead.”
Rand felt a fresh stab of guilt. He’d distrusted Thom, and then Thom had sacrificed himself to save their lives. By staying behind to fight the Fade that had only been there because it had been following the two of them. Because it had been following…one of them.
He pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t do anything for Thom; Mat was the one who needed him now. “Then please believe me,” he said, resting a hand on Mat’s arm. Mat flinched a little at the touch but didn’t actually throw his hand off, so Rand left it there. “It was the Fade. You know you didn’t kill that family. You would never hurt that little girl.”
Mat said nothing, but Rand could feel him trembling. He absentmindedly started moving his thumb, tracing soothing little circles on Mat’s arm. Mat sighed, quiet and exhausted, but he still didn’t protest Rand’s touch. He closed his eyes, and Rand sat there rubbing his arm for five, ten, twenty minutes.
He didn’t know if Mat was actually asleep by now or just pretending, so he stayed for another half hour, fighting to keep his own eyes open, before finally standing, pillowing his cloak up on the floor, and settling in for a much-needed nap. The floor was cold and hard, but it was still better than anywhere else Rand had slept the past month, so he fell asleep almost immediately.
Rand’s growling stomach woke him a couple hours later. Mat was awake too but looked like he’d shatter apart if he got out of bed, so Rand ordered him to stay put while he went to find them some food.
He got two bowls of stew from the innkeeper, as well as a rag and a washbasin. He left the latter items on the floor when he returned to their room, and he passed Mat one of the stews. Rand had wolfed down his entire bowl by the time he noticed Mat wasn’t touching his. “Come on, eat up,” he said. “It’s good.”
“I’m not hungry,” Mat said.
“You need to eat something, Mat.”
Rand leveled him with the stubbornest and most pleading expression he knew how to make, and Mat groaned and picked up his spoon. “Thank you,” Rand said, but the way Mat was so visibly having to force himself to choke down the stew despite having barely eaten all week only made him more worried.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Mat said. His tone was too tired to really count as annoyed, but even so Rand quickly turned away from him and busied himself with the washbasin.
He’d been bathing and washing his clothes in whatever streams they’d come across, and the little rag and basin were less effective than a full submersion in water, but also much less cold. Rand smiled as he wiped days’ worth of dust and sweat off his face, feeling more refreshed already. He stripped off his shirt to wash his upper body, considered asking Mat to get that little spot on his back he couldn’t quite reach, blushed at the thought and discarded it, and instead continued on and hooked his fingers in the waistband of his pants.
Suddenly self-conscious, Rand glanced over to make sure Mat was still busy with the stew and found that he was not, in fact, busy with the stew, and on the contrary his eyes were right on Rand’s bare torso. He looked so exhausted and out of it that Rand figured he’d probably just happened to space out with his eyes in that direction, but he was flustered nevertheless.
“Don’t look,” he said.
Mat started to attention and blinked at him—definitely had been spacing out—then rolled his eyes. “Prude,” he said even as he obligingly lay back down in bed and turned over to face the wall.
Rand finished cleaning up as fast as he could and got dressed again. His clothes could do with a wash, but that would require him to not wear them for a while as they dried, and continuing to be undressed in front of Mat was not something he felt capable of at the moment, for whatever reason.
“Done,” he told Mat. “Do you want to wash up? I’ll get you some fresh water.”
“No, ’m too tired.”
“All right. In the morning, then.”
Mat gave an uninterested hum, still facing the wall. Rand glanced out the window. He wanted to explore Tar Valon, but he hated the thought of leaving Mat alone for even a little while when he was like this. The sun was setting anyway, and it probably wouldn’t be wise to wander alone after dark in a city crawling with Aes Sedai.
Instead he settled back down on the nest of coats he’d made on the floor; he had nothing better to do than sleep, and he certainly had plenty to catch up on. “There’s room in here, you know,” Mat said. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”
Rand hadn’t realized Mat was still paying attention to him. He hesitated, considering the offer. The thought of sleeping so close to Mat was ni—the thought of sleeping in an actual bed was nice. But Mat needed it far more than he did, and Rand didn’t want to cram in with him and disturb him. He was anxious for Mat to get some proper rest.
“No, that’s all right, I really don’t mind,” he said. “I’m so tired right now I could fall asleep anywhere.”
“You sure?” Mat sounded skeptical.
“Completely. Goodnight, Mat.”
There was a pause, and Rand thought Mat was going to keep arguing the point. But then he muttered a goodnight, and neither of them said anything more.
Rand did promptly pass out for a good long while, but when he drifted awake in the middle of the night, he couldn’t get comfortable enough again to fall back to sleep. He rolled over onto his other side, squirming around in a fruitless attempt to shift his weight so that the floor wasn’t pressing into his hip as sharply, then tried going on his back, but now it was digging into his spine.
His rustling was interrupted by a soft noise coming from the bed. Rand went still and listened closer. Another noise, louder—it was something like a whimper, something so small and afraid it made Rand’s heart clench.
“Mat?” he said.
The bed creaked, and in the moonlight he could see Mat tossing and turning. “N…no…” he said, followed by a few more mumbles too indistinct for Rand to make out.
Rand got to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed. “Mat,” he repeated, touching his arm cautiously so as not to startle him.
But Mat still didn’t wake up. One hand was clawing at the blanket and the other was wrapped around that strange dagger he refused to part with, and his leg flailed out so violently that Rand had to lean back to avoid it. Mat was breathing hard and sweating and shaking, and in between gasps Rand thought he caught his sisters’ names.
“Mat,” Rand said loudly. He gave Mat a firm shake, and Mat jerked awake, the hand not on the dagger lurching out to latch onto Rand’s wrist so tightly it was almost painful.
“Don’t touch me!” he snarled, nails digging into Rand’s skin.
Rand’s heart shot into his throat. “M-Mat, it’s me! It’s me, it’s me, it’s me.”
Mat lifted his eyes to his face, panting, and Rand saw a spark of recognition cut through the panic. “Rand?”
“It’s me,” Rand confirmed. “You’re all right, Mat, it was just a dream. You’re all right, I’m here, it’s just us, we’re safe.”
Mat exhaled shakily and loosened his grip, though he didn’t let go altogether. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You know I’ve been having nightmares too.” Rand wondered if Mat had been dreaming of the man with flames for eyes this time, or if it had only been a regular nightmare.
Mat’s breathing gradually slowed down. He looked calmer now, but still so scared. “Tell me—” His voice broke. “Tell me again.” And now Rand had a good idea of what sort of nightmare it had been.
He cupped Mat’s cheek with his free hand, not sparing a thought for how intimate a gesture it was. “It wasn’t you,” he said.
Mat’s expression relaxed a little, but Rand could still feel him trembling. Some unknown instinct made him move his hand up to brush Mat’s tangled hair out of his eyes, which he instantly regretted, but then Mat was leaning into the touch like a cat who wanted to be petted. So, still not entirely sure what he was doing, Rand started running his fingers through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp, and Mat hummed contentedly and closed his eyes, his thumb stroking the inside of Rand’s wrist and making him shiver a little.
Despite being covered in sweat, Mat’s forehead felt like ice. “Mat, you’re freezing,” Rand said.
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are. Here.” Rand pulled away from him and stood up, trying to ignore the swooping feeling in his stomach at Mat’s little noise of protest. He gathered his coat and cloak up off the floor and draped them over Mat.
“No, you need those,” Mat said.
“I’m fine,” Rand said, untangling the blanket and pulling it back up to cover him.
“You can’t just sleep on the bare floor.”
“I’ve been sleeping in worse places the past few weeks.”
“Come in here with me, I told you, there’s plenty of space.”
“There is not, that bed is tiny. I don’t want to crowd you.”
“You won’t. I’m used to sharing with my—with my sisters.”
His voice wobbled, and Rand knelt down next to the bed and touched his cheek again. “They’re all right, Mat, I promise you,” he said. He smiled. “My dad’s probably already taken them up mountain to keep him company and help out with the sheep while I’m gone.”
Mat didn’t smile back, but the worry lines in his forehead eased a bit. “Please come in here with me,” he said, very quietly, and Rand finally realized that this whole time the offer hadn’t been for his sake, but for Mat’s own.
“Move over, then,” he said. Relief crossed Mat’s face, and he scooted over to make room.
Rand climbed in under the blanket with him. It was a tight fit; the bed was only meant for one person, and Mat had to lie more or less on top of Rand so neither would fall out.
Rand took a deep breath and tried to relax, knowing Mat would feel his heart pounding. Calm down. It’s just Mat, he told himself sternly. They’d known each other their whole lives, they’d been close like this a million times.
Never quite like this, though.
“Comfortable?” Mat asked, his head resting in the crook of Rand’s neck, his breath warm against his skin.
“Mm-hmm,” Rand said in as normal a tone as he could manage. “You?”
Mat didn’t answer, and after a few minutes Rand realized he’d already fallen asleep again. Smiling to himself, Rand wrapped his arms around him (purely to make sure he wouldn’t fall out of bed) and closed his own eyes. It was much more comfortable here than it had been on the floor, and sleep reclaimed him quickly.
Rand woke gradually the next morning, warmer and more content than he’d been since leaving home. He opened his eyes and saw that he and Mat had ended up on their sides facing each other (and by some miracle neither had rolled out onto the floor in the night, though Rand was awfully close to the edge of the bed).
Mat was still asleep and practically plastered against Rand, face hidden in his chest. He was still cold and clammy, his breathing harsh and shallow, but his heart was beating steadily and that comforted Rand. He pulled Mat even closer, then rested his chin on top of his head and threaded his fingers through his curls.
“What’re you doing?”
Rand’s hand froze. “You’re awake,” he said.
“Mmm.”
What in Light’s name was Rand doing, cuddling with Mat and playing with his hair? That was so weird. Mat undoubtedly would’ve smacked him for it if he’d had the energy. Embarrassed, Rand let go of him and scrambled back so quickly that he fell out of the bed altogether. That embarrassed him even more, not to mention hurt, but it made Mat let out the tiniest little snort of something almost like amusement, so Rand considered it worth it. Mostly.
He hastily got to his feet and straightened his shirt. “Um, I’m going to find us some breakfast,” he said, not looking at Mat. “Stay there and keep resting.”
“Yes, Mum,” Mat snarked.
Several hours later, after breakfast, a visit to the library downstairs, and an encounter with an Ogier, Rand sat with Mat on a balcony overlooking the Aes Sedai’s victory procession. Rand’s eyes followed the caged False Dragon, but it made a shiver run down his spine, so he looked over at Mat instead.
Mat was staring at the False Dragon too, looking even more spooked than Rand felt. “Mat?” Rand said.
Mat started, his gaze flicking over to Rand for a moment before returning to the street. He hunched his shoulders and hung his head, looking so tired and defeated. Rand ached to pull him into his arms and hold him close, but in the light of day he didn’t dare. All through breakfast neither had said a word about the night before, as if silently agreeing that whatever happened amid darkness and nightmares should stay there.
“Let’s make a deal,” Mat said in a low voice. “All right?”
“All right,” Rand said.
“If it turns out it’s one of us…that you or me can…channel…” Mat swallowed and lifted his head to look at him again. “We won’t let each other become like that.”
Rand gave him a startled, disbelieving smile. “Mat—”
“I’m serious,” Mat said, starting to raise his voice. “I don’t give a shit about this prophecy nonsense, Aes Sedai, Dragons, whatever, I won’t be like that.”
“You won’t,” Rand said firmly.
“You don’t know that!” Mat paused and took a breath and looked away from Rand, his cheek catching the sunlight at an angle that allowed Rand to see the tear that glistened there.
Without thinking twice, Rand reached out and wiped it away, his hand lingering afterwards. Mat looked back at him, his expression open and vulnerable. Rand pressed his hand a little closer, letting it rest fully against Mat’s cheek, and Mat didn’t stop him.
“Promise me,” Mat said quietly.
“I promise,” Rand said, holding his gaze. He smiled a little. “You’d do the same for me?”
Mat broke eye contact and turned his head back to the procession, forcing Rand to lower his hand. “You bet,” he said, and Rand knew he didn’t really mean it.
It was late by the time Nynaeve left that night—what a relief it was to see her alive and here and doing all she could to help Mat, even if Rand could tell she was faking confidence when she said he’d be back on his feet in no time.
Once she and Loial were gone Rand puttered around getting ready for bed, and Mat made space for him again. “If you’re not sick of me yet,” he said, much more halfheartedly than his usual quips.
“I could never get sick of you, Mat,” Rand said warmly, and he climbed in next to him.
Neither said anything as they tried to find a position that was comfortable for both. Eventually they ended up both lying facing the wall, Mat’s back against Rand’s chest. Rand draped his arm across him, and Mat snuggled a little closer.
“Do you really mean that?” Mat said after a while.
Rand was so busy trying to ignore the way Mat was pressing into him that he’d already forgotten what they’d been talking about. “Mean what?” he asked.
“That you could never get sick of me.”
“Of course I mean it.”
“Why? Why couldn’t you get sick of me?” Mat said.
Rand laughed. “Come on, Mat.”
“No, really.” Mat flipped over onto his other side to face him. “I’ve been making your life miserable ever since we got separated from the others. I’m the one who’s sick. I’m the one who’s always complaining. I’m the one who stays in bed while you break your back trying to take care of the both of us and who treats you like shit for no reason, I’m the one who’s making Fades come after us and who’s killing innocent people who shelter us—”
“It wasn’t you, I know it wasn’t—”
“You should’ve let the Fade have me, would’ve saved you a lot of trouble—”
“Light, Mat, how can you even say that?”
“Why aren’t you sick of me?” Mat burst out so loudly that Rand’s heart jumped.
They both fell silent, staring at each other and breathing unsteadily. Mat looked anguished, and Rand couldn’t believe he had to ask this question, couldn’t believe he didn’t know that Rand would die for him without hesitation. Several potential responses swirled in his mind. Because you’re my friend. Because I care about you. Because you’re important to me.
But when he opened his mouth, none of those were the one that came out. “Because I love you.”
He said it quietly, but passionately enough that he would’ve had difficulty passing it off as platonic even if he’d wanted to—and he didn’t want to, he realized. It was the truth. The truth he’d been dancing around and trying to avoid for weeks, and he couldn’t any longer.
Mat’s breath hitched audibly, and Rand felt himself flushing, but he held his gaze. “What do you…mean?” Mat said in a small, unsteady voice.
Rand knew what he was asking. How do you love me? As a friend? Or as more? What about Egwene? But Rand wasn’t sure he could even answer that. Six weeks ago he’d been confident he would marry Egwene and spend his life herding sheep in Emond’s Field, but so much had changed since then. Were he and Egwene even together anymore? Was he betraying her right now, or had their relationship ended before Bel Tine? Had the past month changed her as it had changed Rand? Who would they be by the time they saw each other again? Would they still fit together? Would Egwene even want them to? Would Rand?
He didn’t know, couldn’t think about any of that here in this cramped little bed where Mat was the only thing in the world that still felt real.
He took Mat’s face in his hands and moved closer, close enough that Mat couldn’t possibly mistake his meaning. “I love you,” he repeated, resting his forehead against Mat’s. Their mouths were half an inch apart and Rand longed to close that gap, but he stayed where he was and waited to see if Mat would push him away or—
Mat leaned in and captured Rand’s lips in a kiss surprisingly energetic for how sick and sluggish he’d been all week. Rand was stunned for only a second before eagerly kissing him back, tugging his head closer as Mat reached up to hold onto his wrist. Mat’s lips were dry and cracked, his face still covered in the dirt and grime he never had gotten around to washing off, his skin too cold and his bones too sharp under Rand’s hands, but it was Mat, and Rand didn’t care about anything other than that.
They only stopped when Mat had to pull back for a coughing fit, wet, rattling coughs that shook his whole body. “You all right?” Rand murmured, reaching for him again to stroke his hair.
Mat nodded, but his voice was hoarse when he spoke next. “Tell me again.”
“It wasn’t you.”
“No, not that. The other thing, the thing you said just now.” Mat met his eyes, and if he’d been anyone other than Mat Cauthon, Rand would’ve described the look on his face as shy. “Before…before I kissed you.”
Oh. Rand smiled. “I love you,” he said.
And for the first time since the farm, a smile lit up Mat’s face too.
Moiraine and Lan left soon after healing Mat from the dagger, but Nynaeve wasn’t deterred so easily. She fussed and clucked over him for a full hour before Mat finally managed to shoo her away, insisting that the only thing he needed right now was rest and she was therefore being a detriment to his health.
“Hmph! Mouthing off again, you really are back to your old self,” Nynaeve grumbled, but she was obviously suppressing a smile. “I’ll leave you in peace. Loial, please come fetch me the moment anything changes.”
“You may depend on me, Wisdom al’Meara,” Loial promised. “I must say, this has all been rather exciting, hasn’t it? I’ve never seen anything quite like the affliction that befell Mat, and I believe that dagger would make for a most intriguing subject of study, if only Moiraine Sedai would permit it. Perhaps if I assure her that I will take the proper precautions—”
“You should go to the White Tower and ask her about it right now, Loial,” Rand interrupted as politely as he could manage. “I’m sure there’s a lot of knowledge in that dagger just waiting to be discovered, and it would be too bad if an Aes Sedai got to it first.”
Loial looked perplexed. “Why do you say that? You humans, always so possessive.” Nynaeve started herding him out the door. “Knowledge is meant to be shared and enjoyed by all, and I would hardly resent another being the first to make a discovery, although it would be quite an honor if I were the one who…”
His voice faded away as they got further down the corridor. “Light, finally,” Mat said. “I thought we’d never get rid of them.”
“Nice and quiet now,” Rand agreed, shutting the door. He came over to the bed and grazed his knuckles across Mat’s cheek, which was now warm and full of healthy color again. “You must be exhausted.”
“Exhausted? This is the most energy I’ve had in weeks.” Mat grabbed Rand’s wrist and pulled him down on top of him, making Rand yelp in surprise.
“But you said you wanted to rest,” he said, closing his eyes and sighing as Mat started kissing his neck and untucking his shirt from his pants.
“Well, you were already so embarrassed about Moiraine and Lan walking in on us napping together fully-clothed,” Mat said, sliding his hands under Rand’s shirt, his touch so warm on his stomach. “I didn’t think you’d survive it if I told everyone to get out so I could pin you to this bed and have my way with you.”
Rand went bright red, heart racing in anticipation. “Y-You’re really sure you’re not tired?”
Mat flipped them over with ease and settled himself on top of Rand, grinning down at him. “Does that answer your question?”
Laughing, Rand pulled him down to kiss him senseless. “Tell me again,” Mat said breathlessly a few minutes later, sitting back up to pull his shirt off over his head.
“I love you,” Rand said, gazing up at him in awe.
His shirt soon joined Mat’s on the floor. “Again.”
“I love you.”
Both pairs of pants followed. “One more time.”
“For Light’s sake, Mat, I love you and you know it, so stop talking and kiss me, would you?”
“Oh no, you’ve been bossing me around all month, and it’s my turn now.”
Afterwards, Mat was lying curled up on top of Rand, head on his chest while Rand played with his hair. “Rand?” Mat said.
“Mmm?”
“What happens once we’re back with the others? Will you finally get sick of me?”
Rand easily read between the lines. Will you leave me once Egwene’s here? He opened his eyes and saw Mat looking up at him with a hint of insecurity on his face. Rand didn’t know what would happen when he and Egwene were together again, didn’t even know what he wanted to happen, but he did know one thing.
“I will never, ever get sick of you,” he said.
“Promise?”
Rand gave him a soft smile. “I promise.”
Mat took his hand, twining their fingers together. “Tell me again? Just one more time.”
“I love you, Mat,” Rand said. “And I’ll use every breath for the rest of my life to keep saying so if you want me to.”
Mat visibly melted, his expression moving very near tears before shifting back into a grin. “Well, not every breath,” he said. “Otherwise the rest of your life will be pretty short.”
Rand laughed and tugged him closer for a kiss, both of them smiling against each other’s mouths.
“Tell me again,” Mat whispered, staring at the empty Waygate, but only the wind answered him.
Rand gazed helplessly into the darkness that had swallowed the hilltop, and he realized that for all the times he’d said it, Mat had never once said it back.