Gareth Bryne rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked over his maps of Tar Valon. The torchlight in his rooms in the White Tower gave enough light to continue work even this late. His confidence in its defences was growing steadily. He knew he could not pretend to himself that he could anticipate what would happen at the Last Battle. The Light only knew what they would have to face. He had planned with surprises in mind. There could be new weapons and Dark creatures; he would have no foreknowledge of their weaknesses or behaviour. But he did know war, and some of its principles never changed. Learn from battles and skirmishes, and adapt for the next time. Constantly review your tactics. He also knew that Rand commanded other armies, led by great generals. The Borderland armies would presumably include Davram Bashere. Rodel Ituralde had been of reknown since the Aiel War. There was also new blood leading the field; Galad, of course, with his Whitecloaks. And this Mat Cauthon he had heard so much about.
He rose from his chair and went to pour himself a cup of wine from the pitcher on a nearby table. The pitcher was stone and well-used; it had been brought from his tent when he had moved in to the Tower. He really did have good rooms here. They had been a sister's, previously, and still held remnants of furniture and ornament from previous ownership. He had not thought it worth altering any of it dramatically, simply stacking the woman's china and anything particularly fragile in a cupboard, and bringing in his own trunk and rug. He did not expect to stay much longer, now. Whether he was thinking of a change in his comfort through returning to the tents of battle and camps of his soldiers, or of a much more permanent reason, he could not say. But the sky lately told a tale as much as anything as to how close the world was to the end of an Age.
The night was stuffy; it felt as though it needed a good rain. He had discarded his jacket several hours ago and stood with his shirtsleeves rolled up to leave his forearms bare. He had a Warder cloak, now; he had been astonished when Siuan had presented it. He still not feel like a Warder proper. He did not wear it and would not except when he expected to have to fight himself. He felt it would be an injustice to the others around him; he was a general first. However, there were other changes that were much more noticeable. Bryne's stamina had certainly increased since Siuan had bonded him. He could even drink more wine or ale than previously without it affecting him! Glancing at the time-piece on the desk, he noted that most of the Tower would probably have retired a few hours ago. He did not feel remotely tired. He focused on the bundle of emotions in the back of his head that was Siuan. They had been increasingly volatile over the course of the day, beginning with her first sight of Moiraine Damodred, walking barefoot out of a Gateway from the Fields of Merrilor, hand in hand with Thom Merrilin. Bryne did not know what to make of that. Morgase would have been astonished, he thought, to see what end both her old lovers had made. It was probably her own fault that they were now so entangled with Aes Sedai. Bryne smiled. He did not regret where his path had taken him.
Thinking of Siuan shifted his focus back to her emotions again and abruptly he noticed she seemed to be moving closer physically. He could not say exactly how he knew it. Such a wondrous thing, being so connected to her. It felt so complex and yet simple at the same time. She had been with Moiraine the whole evening as far as he could tell. She had apparently been growing steadily more embarrassed about something over the last hour or so, and now she seemed to be on her way towards him, she was positively cooking with it. He frowned. Perhaps Moiraine had been filling her in on her relationship with Thom. He himself was planning to offer to play Stones with the man. He had enjoyed a challenging game or two with him in Salidar. Perhaps there would be chance to…
He half turned towards the door, still holding his wine cup. When she entered, he looked at her closely, trying to identify what he was feeling from her in her expressions. She could hide those emotions very well, with Aes Sedai ice. But she did look a little flushed, and the bond told him the rest.
"Siuan, what's the matter? You feel like your skin is crawling from the eyes on your back."
If anything, his words seem to make her cheeks grow hotter. And he felt something else from her. Just a lick of something like…anticipation.
She closed the door fully and leaned on it, looking at the floor. He had expected her to look in on him before returning to her own rooms just down the hall. She knew he liked to leave the door open a crack in case he was needed in the night; she was obviously planning on staying for a little while. He turned towards her fully.
"I would like a cup of wine, Gareth," she said softly, still not meeting his gaze. He turned to the table and filled one, and walked across the room to hand it to her. She raised it to her lips and drank a good half of it in one movement. His eyes widened in surprise. He stood over her, thinking that it might be better to pretend he did not know what she feeling. Perhaps she was hoping he might distract her from it. She raised the cup to her lips again and emptied it. He moved to take it back from her and half turned to put it back on the table, but she seized his forearm and turned him back towards her.
She was still gazing at the floor to the left of his feet. She cleared her throat and said in a low voice, "I was speaking with Moiraine. She is going to marry Thom."
"I see." He didn't find this half as surprising as he might have until he had seen the two of them together. She couldn't be upset by that, could she? He knew she and Moiraine had been close. The only two in the world who knew at the time about the birth of the Dragon on the slopes of Dragonmount. He did not know Moiraine Damodred and had only heard about her in Andor's Court, with its connections to Cairhien. Since Siuan had told him the story of why she had broken her oath, he had asked her about Moiraine's part in bringing the Dragon Reborn to this end. Quite a substantial part, it seemed. After so many had thought her dead, Moiraine's return had seemed to offer a great deal of hope. "I hope you will offer them my congratulations."
She seemed not to be listening; she looked as though she was steeling herself to say what she wanted. Her hold on his forearm was tight. He raised his other hand and placed it on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. Suddenly she looked up at him fully in the face and said in a rush, "She said…she did not know what might happen; what part she had yet to play. And she has given so much. Her treatment at the hands of the Eelfinn and Aelfinn…she did not want to wait. In case she never had the chance to have what she wanted." She swallowed and continued, "and nor do I."
He drew in a sharp breath. He could not say he had not considered the same line of reasoning himself, but he had always managed to override his sense of fear and had vowed not to bring it up with her. He intended to see that they both survived. And he had promised her to wait. But if she was the one to raise it…
He shifted his hand slowly to fit around her neck, feeling her pulse beneath his fingers. "You want to get married?" he asked. Their eyes were locked; he could see her breathing in and out shallowly. And he was reminded again, very forcefully, of that second meeting with her in Kore Springs. The first meeting, of who she really was. It seemed so long ago now. No longer the Amyrlin; no longer able to channel; perhaps no longer able to find her own purpose. And yet, courage greater than some of his best soldiers. How he loved her now. Finding the courage to say what her own instincts screamed she should not. She raised her other hand to his shoulder and stepped in closer.
"Yes. But..." he watched her face flush crimson and her pulse quicken further. And he felt a jolt of emotion from her that began a quiver deep in his belly. "There is no need to wait for…anything else, either."
His head spun for a moment. Did she really mean…? He was not so easily embarrassed about such things, but he had not been expecting that. He dropped his hand from her shoulder to her waist.
"Siuan…" he lowered his head, closer to hers. Closer to those blue eyes that had started all this. "Do you mean…"
In answer she leaned forward, closing her eyes and kissed him, so very gently. She pulled back slowly, just far enough to rest the top of her head against his nose. Her hand moved around her back to grip his on her waist. She was still breathless; he could feel the flutter against his eyelids.
"I do not know the ways of Leane, Gareth." She whispered. "Her methods would no doubt be effective." He felt a spike of jealously shoot through her and he smiled despite himself and the situation. Her hand on his shifted slightly to find his wrist. He realised she was finding his pulse.
He nearly laughed out loud. "Siuan, surely you can tell how I feel. You don't need practised arts or perfume to…create a reaction." A reaction? She would not need the bond or any signal at all soon if she carried on. He was trembling. He captured her fingers with his thumb and twisted his hand to rest them where she would be able to feel her effect.
Her eyes were still closed and he had brought their foreheads together. She smiled slowly. "You're trembling."
"So are you." It was quite true. Her hold on his wrist was determined but no longer steady. He did not think their causes were precisely the same, though. Her embarrassment was bleeding away slowly, and he felt her desire stoking. Probably being fed from the furnace that was his. But there was a great deal of nervousness, too. He realised she knew he knew it. And she was letting him feel it anyway.
"Siuan…are you sure you want –"
She growled as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "I am not yet so dull-witted by a man, Gareth Bryne, that I do not know what I mean when I speak." She leaned forward and kissed him again more forcefully. He tightened his grip on her waist and did not draw away. Yet he not return her kiss; he was not quite ready to let his senses take over. She pulled back once more, the bond telling him she had the beginnings of doubt, whatever he thought she must be able to feel from him. He pulled her in tighter, bringing her face to his shoulder and running his fingers through her hair.
"There's something you're not telling me."
She gripped his shoulder as if in reassurance, and turning her face to the side away from him, spoke softly. "I am…inexperienced."
Ah. He was careful not to move physically, and he did not have to work very hard to dampen any change of emotion. It was not all that surprising.
"As an Aes Sedai and the Amyrlin, I mostly stopped considering that it would become an experience for me. I did not put any effort into ensuring it would. And I did not regret it."
She lifted herself from his shoulder and leaned back to meet his eyes. "But then…speaking with Moiraine, I realised I would regret it. If I never had the chance to, with you." She smiled, her voice becoming stronger. "The Last Battle may come tomorrow; in a few hours. And I find I have nothing to wait for. It does not matter that the words have not been spoken." She let out a floaty laugh, although it caught it her throat from nerves.
"After all the washing and boot-blacking I have done, I think I am married to you in heart, Gareth Bryne. If you would have me."
He laughed and lifted her to kiss her, slowly at first. By the time he had set her on her feet again she had one hand hooked into the laces of his shirt. He took a deep breath and –
"If I did not know better, I'd say you were a little nervous yourself," she whispered thoughtfully.
"Two reasons. One is that I hope you have channelled the door locked. And the other is that…I have no experience at all of having a woman know what's going on in my head at the same time." He chuckled softly as breathed against her throat. "I hope you will be kind to me, Siuan."