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There was a hypnotic sway to the way the Aes Sedai’s cloak moved with each step of her horse. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right . Lan tried to keep his focus on the motion. It was steady, predictable. The rhythmic clip-clopping of their horses’ hooves, the jangling of the reins, the movement of his own horse beneath him. Steady. Calm. Predictable. He tried to let it lull him into tranquility, but meditation had never come that easily to him. Focus, he thought. He’d never had as much trouble focussing as he had over the past three days.
Three days, since he had stood at the edge of the Blight. Three days since Ryne had... Since Bukama.. No, he couldn’t think of that. Lan took a deep breath. Left. Right. Left. Right. Three infuriating days of being bonded to an Aes Sedai. Light. What had he been thinking? He couldn’t quite stop the sniff at the thought of it all. She had stopped him from going to his death, from finally fulfilling his duty. She had told him about the Dragon - the Dragon! - being reborn. Had told him about the Black Ajah, as if he hadn’t been distrustful enough of Aes Sedai as it was. And then, for some unfathomable reason, he had offered up his bloody sword and had sworn himself to her. To her, and to her fight against the Shadow. Her fight against the end of the bloody world itself, and then she had bloody bonded him.
She had bonded him to her, body and soul, and they hadn’t spoken about it since. They hadn’t spoken about anything much, really, these past couple days. Oh, she still goaded him, pushing and prodding just like she had before they arrived in Chachin, her tone just polite enough for him not to be able to comment on it. He was grateful that no bugs had made a reappearance. Nor had any ponds. There was just this feeling of being tested, whenever she spoke to him. And when she hadn’t been goading him, she had talked about little else but Prophecy and the Pattern and the Shadow.
Beyond that? There had just been silence. Well, silence wasn’t really what he would call it. She was loud inside his head . He could sense her now too, feel her reticence. He suddenly burned with annoyance. Her back somehow went even more rigid than it already was. He supposed she had felt that. Her face turned to the side just a bit, as if reacting to a noise, before she looked ahead again, a movement so slight he would not have noticed, had his head not suddenly been burning with her annoyance as well.
Good . Lan thought. If he had to suffer through her emotions, she could suffer through his. How in the Light had he ever agreed to this? Was this where the stories came from? Aes Sedai bonding men without their permission? He tried to remember why exactly he had tied himself to her. Had she compelled him with the one power? Why in the bloody Light he had knelt before her, and sworn that bloody oath? Had he known that this was what following her would be like, he wouldn’t have waited in front of the Blight long enough for her to find him.
Lan looked north. How many miles were between him and the Blightborder now? How long would it be until he could return? Until he could finally avenge Malkier? Avenge his parents? He forced the image of Bukama out of his head. No, it was likely he would never set eyes on the Blight again. The Pattern had other plans for him, it seemed. He tried not to be too resentful.
It was just that he had never expected to be pulled away from his duty and death like this. Even with the Aiel war going on for over two years, he had known he would live to return and see his duty done. But now? To not even have the chance to fight for Malkier, long consumed by the Shadow as it was? It was what his parents had died for. What his people - Light, his people - had died for. The few remaining Malkieri, scattered across the Borderlands and beyond, waiting for him to do his duty. To stand against the Shadow. To fight until there was no more fight left, to avenge Malkier. To die for Malkier.
Instead he was here, on his way to Arafel, bonded to a woman with a history of putting stinging insects in his bedroll, on his way to search for one very special baby.
Well, there was more to it than that, he knew. Finding the Dragon Reborn, to guide him to the Last Battle, to help him defeat the Dark One. Not for the first time in the past few days, Lan had to admit that Moiraine’s mission did not keep him from standing against the Shadow all that much. He just hadn’t thought it would play out like this. Death called to him. The Blight called to him. He did not want to bear responsibility for anyone else’s life, and he certainly did not want to bear responsibility for anyone else’s death but his own.
Death is light as a feather. Bukama’s voice seemed to echo in his head. Duty heavier than a mountain. He felt the weight of it trying to pull him under.
Thinking of his mentor brought on a fresh wave of grief, and before he could stop it anger welled up from deep inside him. They never should have gone to Chachin. Never should have allowed the Aes Sedai to ensnare them into her schemes. She hadn’t had any right to have Bukama spy on that darkfriend Sister of hers. Bukama should not have had to die. Not like that. Not after everything.
Lan wondered, as he had often since they left Chachin, if Ryne still would have betrayed them had Moiraine never crossed their paths. No. He couldn’t think of that either. Couldn’t think of his friend, about the look in his eyes as they’d fought. Couldn’t think about him murdering Bukama. Couldn’t think about the stink of burning flesh as Moiraine incinerated his body with the One Power. Ryne had been his friend. He had trusted him. Bukama had trusted him. Bukama had… And Ryne had… Ryne just…
A spike of anger - was it anger? It felt so strange - that was not his own seemed to twist in his gut, pulling him back to his surroundings. Moiraine turned and looked over her shoulder to glare at him, eyes narrowed in displeasure. He met her eyes with equal chagrin. He could feel her agitation, and a sudden restlessness pulsed through the bond. He fought the urge to lower his eyes, then fought another memory of Bukama, teaching him the custom. Lan challengingly maintained eye contact until she huffed and turned back around, snapping her horse’s reins a bit more sharply than necessary and trotting ahead, as if a few more paces distance would get him out of her head.
The annoyance and anger that he’d been feeling from her seemed to grow tenfold, and in a strange, phantom way, he felt her hands ache. Was she clenching them? Annoyance shifted to exasperation, and his own frustrations with her, and his situation, grew in response to hers. It felt awful, like the inside of his skull was one big echo box, buzzing unpleasantly, making it hard to distinguish between what was his own and what was coming from her. A sharp headache bloomed between his eyes, and his whole body felt like it was overheating. What had he gotten himself into? The ache in his hands sharpened, his chest constricted for just a moment, a loud, scream-like sensation reverberated throughout his body, and it hurt.
The past few days of sharing a bond were nothing compared to this intensity. He blinked a few times, and shook his head to try and clear whatever it was she was sending his way from his head. It did not work. Lan felt a frustrated growl grow in the back of his throat. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this affected by another person, couldn’t recall ever having felt like this.
He had not signed up for this. He did not want her in his head. He did not want this . Was this all intentional? Was this some other twisted type of way of testing him? His headache worsened, seemed to sharpen into long needles puncturing his skull. He could no longer separate her feelings from his own, couldn’t even muster up the concentration to try, but he felt so angry, and upset, and overheated, and something indescribable suddenly welled up and overwhelmed all else that he had been feeling, and it grew and grew and grew and Light he felt like he was going to be sick, and-
As if a heavy door had just been slammed shut on him, it was all gone. Lan tried not to recoil at the sensation. The slam echoed through the sudden emptiness. There was only quiet. Nothing. Only a vague impression of what he just had so intensely been feeling. Her back remained turned to him, still rigid, but he could see her breathe more heavily than before.
“What was that?” He asked, trying to breathe through the nausea. He couldn’t remember his mind ever feeling this silent before, nor this empty. It was a disconcerting feeling.
It took her a good minute to answer. Her head must have been reeling just as much as his was. But when she spoke she sounded totally unaffected.
“I masked the bond.”
“Masked it?”
“You were too loud.”
He had been too loud ? It was she who had made his skull feel like splitting, his body feel like bursting. He waited for her to continue, but nothing followed. That was all she would say? After whatever all of that had been? Lan took a deep breath to calm himself. He had become aware that he had some biases against Aes Sedai, but no tales had ever exaggerated how infuriatingly tight-lipped they were.
Lan wondered again what he was doing here with her. Wondered what would happen if he just turned his horse north and left. Back to the blight. Would distance weaken the bond? Could he ask her to let him go? A momentary flash of fear gripped him. Was that even possible? Should he decide that he wanted to leave, could he? Would she let him? Did he get himself trapped?
Lan trampled the thought and kicked it for good measure, along with the image of Edeyn that flashed through his head. He told himself that even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to just leave her. There was something about her that he trusted beyond reason. She was an Aes Sedai, she was naive, she was infuriating, and she was more stuck up than what he usually would put up with (and he had put up with a lot.)
But there was undeniable good in her. He had seen it, and he reminded himself that he would not have sworn himself to her, had he not believed her to be worthy of it somehow. He had seen her kill her fellow Aes Sedai, The darkfriend. She, and Ryne... He had seen Moiraine try to save Iselle from her fall, despite the attempt nearly causing her to be drawn over the edge of the balcony along with the girl. And she had Healed him of his injuries, after. No, she was a good person. Just. A hard person, though. Lan sighed softly. And incredibly stubborn.
From the moment they had bonded, his head had been filled to the brim with her. So strange an experience, to suddenly feel so much. In all his twenty-five years, he couldn’t recall ever feeling so much, nor so intensely. He wondered if it was because of the bond, if he was getting everything amplified, or if she was always feeling that way. He wouldn’t ask though, at least not right then. He still was very annoyed with her, after all. But the silence stretched on uncomfortably, and he did want some answers.
“How long does a mask last?”
“Until I remove it.”
"Will you?” She looked back at him, eyes narrowed a little as she took him in. Then she was facing forward again. Her silence was maddening.
“Can the bond be removed?” He pressed, ignoring her clear dismissal of the situation.
She glanced back again, this time reining in her horse. Lan let his horse walk on until they were side by side, and then they were both standing still. Moiraine was looking up at him with an unreadable expression. The emotionless mask would have been believable had his entire body not just been bursting with whatever it had been that she’d been feeling. He forced down admiration over her self control. He was not quite ready to let go of his bad mood just yet.
Lan refused to back down from her gaze. He sat much taller than her, both his own height and the height of his horse putting him a good two heads higher than her. They stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time, and when she realized he really wasn’t going to back down, something fierce entered her eyes. Lan quietly thanked the Light that there was no body of water around. It was Moiraine who looked away first, eyes searching their surroundings. She again spoke as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.
“This is as good a spot to make camp as we will be able to find before nightfall.” She said, “Away from the road, beyond the trees should do it.”
Lan again fought to keep his anger in check, suppressing the urge to ask how she could possibly know that. Had she traveled this area before? Scouted it for the perfect spot to rest? He doubted it. He knew she had briefly traveled alone before their paths crossed, but he doubted she had slept anywhere other than a decent inn before she joined his group, being all by herself as she had been. Besides, she was clearly used to some comforts, if the way she tossed and turned on the hard, bumpy earth whenever they had slept outdoors was any indication. It was a good spot though, and the sun was setting, so he didn't say anything.
The sudden silence in his head was a relief, but something about it felt very odd, too. Too empty, almost. He nudged his horse ahead of Moiraine’s. Maybe, hopefully, the task of setting up camp would distract him enough to ignore the feeling.
-----
They tied up and unsaddled their horses in an uncomfortable silence. The only brief interruption to it having been Lan’s steed, Cat Dancer, snapping at Moiraine’s sleeve when she had apparently come too close to him. Lan had hushed the horse, and had made sure she had not been bitten. “He does not like strangers.” He had said. Moiraine wished the remark had not stung so.
After unloading the horses, she set out to look around for firewood. Lan had hovered uncertainly for a moment before taking off in a different direction. The sun remained only just visible over the horizon, casting the sky in bright orange hues, providing enough light to search by without having to draw on the One Power for extra lumination. Something she was very grateful for. She felt like she hardly had the energy left to set flame to a candle.
She managed, though. After placing the firewood in the stone circle Lan had set up, she set it ablaze with a small weave of Fire. Channeling always filled her with a bliss beyond description, the Source surging through her as she drew on it. She held onto it for just a moment longer than necessary, soaking in the feeling before chiding herself for her indulgence. Reluctantly, she let it go. The weight of the past few days settled back into her body almost instantly. Light, when was the last time she had been this exhausted?
She was aware of Lan moving somewhere behind her, though his step was quiet. For the first time in three days, her head was blissfully, blessedly her own. She never thought she would be this relieved to be alone with her thoughts. It had never been a pleasant experience before.
Lan said something about setting up a small game snare that she only half heard. She wanted to be away from him. Deciding that Arrow’s sweaty coat had likely dried up by now, she gathered her grooming set and set off to the horses. Fortunately, Lan had set off in the opposite direction. Space was what she needed now.
Arrow lifted her head at Moiraine’s approach, snorting softly, then bowed her head again. Moiraine petted her nose with a relieved smile. At least one thing was still the same. She looked around to see if Lan was really gone before slumping forward, resting her head against her horse’s side. She closed her eyes firmly, and exhaled wearily. In. Out. In. Out. She just had to breathe.
She tried to picture the bud of a flower, blooming, growing. The image faded as she opened her eyes with a sigh. She’d never been very good at mastering that particular novice exercise. She clenched her hands into fists a few times to get rid of the ache she’d been trying to ignore. She observed her palms, stark red lines visible from earlier when she’d gripped the reins in an attempt to keep herself from losing her calm. An evidently unsuccessful attempt , she thought wryly. She hadn’t lost such control over her emotions in quite a while.
Brushing down Arrow helped her gather her thoughts and focus more than the flowerbud exercise ever could. It was methodical, steps she knew by heart. It was familiar. She cleaned and brushed down her horse longer than was really necessary, but Arrow didn’t seem to mind it, and seemed to sense that her mistress needed it, nuzzling her happily.
Moiraine sighed. It was not that she did not like Lan. She would not have bonded him had she thought they were not compatible. It was just that she had not at all been prepared for how difficult adjusting to the warder bond would be. She had of course expected it would take some getting used to, had expected to have to watch herself even more than she already had to, to not have anything slip. But not even all the hours listening to Alanna, who had rarely talked about anything other than warders, could have prepared her for the absolute mess this would leave her.
Her friend had dragged her along many times to watch the warders train when they were Novices, talking endlessly about how wonderful it would be to be bonded to someone, about how she couldn’t wait to join the Green Ajah, and have as many warders as she wanted. The thought of having multiple warders made Moiraine feel near sick. Sharing a bond with one warder was proving to be harrowing enough.
She dearly wished Siuan was there to talk to. For six years they had done everything side by side. To not have her close to talk to, to touch, to cry on her shoulder, to not have that person whom she could let her guard down with, was a loss that ached in a way she had not anticipated.
And whenever Siuan for some reason had not been available, she had always been able to turn to the Mistress of Novices for comfort. Merean Sedai had been a source of solace many times. She had been kind, and warm, and Moiraine had trusted her and then-
Trying not to let her feelings overwhelm her again, Moiraine focused on the patterned motions of the brush against Arrow’s side. Familiar, easy, exactly the same as it always was. She just had to keep her mind on what she was doing. She couldn’t let herself get distracted. Couldn’t think about…
Her eyes drifted to her bag, where her belt knife had been stuffed away for days now. Had it really only been three days? There was an exhaustion weighing her down that felt like it had been there for ages. Only three days, since she had failed to figure out what was happening in time. Since she got Lan’s friends killed. Since she hadn’t been strong enough to pull Iselle back onto safe ground and keep her from plummeting to her death. Three days, since she had felt Merean’s warm blood running over her hand, down her arm, from where she had stuck her knife into the woman’s back.
Moiraine looked at her hands again. They were clean, not a trace of blood remaining from that day. She somehow felt like her hands would never be clean of blood again.
Arrow flicked her tail in mild irritation as Moiraine resumed her brushing of the same spot. Stroking her flank in apology, Moiraine moved on to the legs. She could hear Lan approaching, his gait purposefully loud enough to announce his return. Moiraine glanced over, seeing him kneel next to his saddlebag by the fire. She was almost done scraping Arrow’s second hoof when Lan joined her, his own grooming supplies in hand. Cat Dancer greeted him warmly, allowing only his master to get anywhere near him. Moiraine tried to ignore Lan without actually seeming to ignore him. He seemed to be doing the same.
The silence became less uncomfortable as they both focused on what they were doing, pretending to be busy with their task turning into actually being busy with said task. Arrow was certainly enjoying all the extra attention she was being given. So was Cat Dancer, his posture relaxed.
Moiraine finished cleaning Arrow’s last hoof and straightened with a sigh. Perhaps she should say something. It was not his fault that he knew so little about the warder bond, and they couldn’t just ignore what had happened, not if they were going to spend a lifetime together. Besides, he now knew about the Dragon having been reborn. She couldn’t just let him go, could she? Lan didn’t seem the type to go tell everyone about what he had learned, but if there was one thing she learned growing up, it was not to take any chances. Trust got people killed. Though, she supposed, not trusting Lan wasn’t an option. Not anymore. No, she would just have to fix this.
“Do you want the bond removed?” She asked almost pleasantly. There. Just a simple question. There was no need for her heart to suddenly beat faster. She kept her eyes on her horse, petting her big nose. Lan paused his brushing mid-stroke, looking at her.
“You would allow me to leave, Aes Sedai?”
“You’re not my prisoner.” She replied, sounding perhaps a bit more defensive than she would have liked. What did he think of her? Was he accusing her of something? She focused on keeping her face smooth. Calm, cool, collected.
Lan was silent for a while, his eyes shifting back to Cat Dancer. He seemed pensive. It was odd, suddenly having to guess again what he was feeling, instead of reading it through the bond. Moiraine hid her discomfort behind apparent serenity. She hadn’t felt this unsure of herself in a long while. He made her feel vulnerable; She cared about what he thought. Cared about how he saw her, what he thought of her. His silence stung. His annoyance at her stung. Perhaps she was better off without a warder, if he could drive her to such distractions. There was too much at stake for her to risk inefficiency, to risk getting sidetracked. Without Lan, she could just push everything away and focus on her mission.
“We are not used to each other yet.” Lan said then. Moiraine frowned at him. “I am not used to you yet. But I feel… Strange, now. My head feels wrong.”
Moiraine kept looking at him, searching. His face was as hard as ever, but he seemed sincere. Lan cleared his throat. “No, I do not want the bond removed.”
Nodding, Moiraine felt the tightness in her chest lessen. “Nor do I.” She said. Lan nodded in return.
“We will get used to it.” Moiraine continued. “In time.”
“It has only been three days.” Lan acknowledged. His eyes turned curious. “Is it always like that at first?” He gestured vaguely at his head. “So loud and present?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Moiraine confessed. “I’ve never had a warder before, and asking a Sister would have been-” she winced. "-improper." Furiously, she tried to suppress the heat that she felt rising in her cheeks at the thought of having such a conversation with an Aes Sedai before being Raised. Or after being Raised, for that matter.
Lan nodded again. Then, after silent eye contact that went on too long for both their comforts, they turned back to their horses.
---
By the time they had settled for dinner by the fire, the sun had long given way to darkness, the moon only visible in glimpses behind a cover of clouds. Neither of them had spoken much since their earlier conversation, both lost in thought.
Lan’s spoon scraped shrilly against the bottom of his bowl as he gathered the last of his meal, the sound disrupting the silence. Moiraine glanced up at him accusingly. He wondered what she had been thinking about. He offered a silent apology.
“I heard a rumor once,” Moiraine said, her voice musical. She was slowly stirring her spoon around her still half-full bowl. “back when I was a Novice. About an Aes Sedai whose warder betrayed her, and fled. They said she hadn’t unmasked the bond since.” A slight frown appeared between her brows.
“Do you worry I might betray you, Aes Sedai?”
Moiraine shook her head. “I cannot imagine what that must feel like, having the bond masked for years. It has only been hours for us and I can’t shake the wrongness of it. Though I suppose one can get used to anything if enough time passes.” She looked up at him. “I do not think you would betray me, Lan.”
It was heartening, hearing her say it straight out like that. No twisting of words. No omissions of truth. She did not think he would betray her. But even if her Oaths had not bound her to the truth, he would have believed her anyway.
“It does feel wrong in some way,” he affirmed, “having the bond masked. It feels like there is a strange, empty space within me.” Lan nodded his head slightly. “Though it was nice to have my head to myself for a moment.”
Moiraine huffed. It might even have been a laugh.
“Surprisingly so.” She let go of the spoon, subtly flexing her fingers.
“I know this all happened quite fast.” She said after a pause. “Most warders go through years of rigorous training before being bonded, and even then some find it unsuitable. I would not hold it against you if you did want to leave.”
Lan looked at her, expression blank. It was odd to notice how much she had already been relying on their bond to read what he was feeling. Now she couldn’t begin to guess.
“Of course,” Moiraine continued, “you would have to swear not to reveal anything about the Dragon having been reborn. Nor about the Black Ajah.” She shook her head with a sigh. “I fear that the safety of the child, and the world, relies on secrecy. For now at least. Once prophecies start being fulfilled the Light knows there will be no stopping the rumors.” She was looking back into her bowl, a frown on her face. Her meal remained half eaten. “I have only seen the weave for undoing the bond once, but I am fairly confident that I remember it accurately.”
She looked back up at him at his continued silence. This was probably the most she had spoken to him since they had met. It nearly bordered on rambling. She cleared her throat.
“We could go to the White Tower and have the bond removed under supervision of one of my Sisters, if that makes you more comfortable. Though I would prefer to stay away from there for a while.” Right. He wouldn’t be in a hurry to return either, had he been in her place. He knew she had fled from the Tower, and it had only been three days since she had killed her fellow Aes Sedai. Light, the Black Ajah. The Tower must be eager to get its hands on her.
“All this to say; you are free to leave, if you wish to.”
A slight flush had appeared on her face, though it might just have been a trick of the firelight. Lan nodded thoughtfully.
“There was a vow that was made for me, when I was an infant.” He said, clasping his bowl between his hands. He ran his thumbs over the smooth edge. He disliked speaking of it, but for some reason he wanted to share it with her. It was a vow that had shaped his entire childhood, his entire life, and would shape his death as well. His eyes settled on the fire.
“ To stand against the Shadow so long as iron is hard and stone abides. To defend the Malkieri while one drop of blood remains. To avenge what cannot be defended.”
“Your reason for entering the Blight.” Moiraine concluded.
“It calls to me, still. I don’t think it will ever stop calling to me. The offer to leave should be tempting.” He didn’t fully understand it himself. “But your fight against the Shadow - our fight against the Shadow, now - goes beyond Malkier.
You fight for the victory of the Light over the Dark One, and I would not have you do it alone.”
Silence. Then, something strange? It started as a prickle in the back of his head. It expanded, blossoming as Moiraine lifted the mask, until there was a new sort of warmth settling into him. He could not put words to the feeling, except that it was not his own, and that it wasn’t like anything he had felt from her before.
“Thank you.” Moiraine said, and he realized it was deep gratitude that he was feeling from her. It swelled in his chest.
“I am glad to have you at my side, al’Lan Mandragoran, and am glad for the chance to get to know you better. I will do my best to answer any questions you have about the bond, Gaidin.” she said, then added; “And I promise I will try to be less… Abrasive.”
Lan felt an odd, phantom tightening sensation settle over his skin before it was gone again. “We will get used to each other, Aes Sedai.” he said. “Rough edges, stinging insects, or ponds. It is an honor to serve.”