To Heal The Dead

II – Conversation between comrades

When a knock landed on the door, Lan's hand went to his sword. He glanced down at his wife, but she gave no reaction. She had fallen asleep again. For the last two days she had done little but sleep; and he worried. If losing saidar affected her like it affected most Aes Sedai…

"Enter," he called.

Moiraine slipped into the room.

Lan did not ease his grip on his sword, and shifted slowly into the ready-stance called the Swan On The Lake. No one else seemed surprised to see Moiraine walk among them again, but to him it was impossible. He had seen her die. He had felt her die. A part of him had died with her.

The… lack of her… was no longer in his head. Neither was Myrelle. Not since he had woken up in the Gap. Some of his old aches were also gone; muscles and skin usually stiff due to old scars now flexed easily. Enough remained to remind him that he was alive, that he was mortal and could be hurt, but Nynaeve had done a good job at healing him. He felt years younger.

A good job? Light, she had healed him from the dead. So they told him, and she had near killed herself doing it. The thought made him feel cold. Bloody woman didn't know what was good for her, and never had.

In that way she was very much Aes Sedai.

"I'm no ghost, Lan," Moiraine said, watching him and reading him as easily as if their bond had still been in place.

Lan did not move, did not release his sword. With Nynaeve there he would take no chances. Had she not been there, his reaction might have been different. He had failed Moiraine. He had sworn to defend her, his life before hers, and he had failed her. Duty was heavier than a mountain; especially when you forgot to hold it up and dropped it on your own bloody head.

She should not have died that day at the docks; he should have paid in blood to keep her alive. He should have tried harder to protect her. His honour was his word, and a Warder's honour was his Aes Sedai's life. He had failed at both. What honour was left him?

Moiraine would have the right to whatever recompense she deemed fit – once he could make certain she was real. Until he was certain, he would give no ground. If this wasn't Moiraine, but some elaborate trick of the Dark One…

Lan would not fail Nynaeve, too.

"Then tell me this," he said, still in Swan On The Lake and ready to draw. "Who did you send me to when –"

"Myrelle."

"What did I burn the day I accepted your bond?"

"Your daori. You called it burning your past."

"What did I do when you tried to take my sword from me?"

"You threw me into a pond, and later I threw that pond back at you. There was also a lot of insects involved on that trip, though I never did get around to those wasps." She smiled thinly. "You are still not allergic to wasps, are you, master Lan? Just in case I ever find that your humility is losing its edge again."

That had to be enough. The daori proved it, the wasps proved it, and the reference to his humility that she ever liked to keep well honed proved it. He dropped into a Borderland lord's bow before her; one knee to the ground, his left hand on his sword, right fist to the floor, and bowed his head "Honour to serve, Moiraine Sedai. My life is yours." And he might as well say it at once. "That day at the dock. I… will make amends. However you see fit."

"By the Light, Lan," sighed Moiraine. "Rise!"

He stood up. When she sternly indicated her eyes, he even met them. Large, dark eyes with uncountable secrets. So very familiar to him.

But he had felt her die, and the mere memory of that pain was enough to make him tremble. He snatched after the ko'di and schooled himself to stillness. "I will make amends," he repeated.

Moiraine fixed him with her sternest Aes Sedai gaze. "If you insist, then very well. Hear your amends, Lan Mandragoran, and do not argue: you will forgive yourself."

He blinked. Even wrapped in the ko'di as he was, he felt startled.

"Mind if I sit down?"

He indicated an armchair that half-faced Nynaeve's. He himself remained standing. Habit near as old as he was made him feel safer on his feet. Moiraine sat herself down, smoothed her blue silk skirts over her knees, and laid her arms on the armrests, much like a queen on a throne. She leaned discreetly back; a queen relaxed on her throne.

Anyone else would have missed it, but Lan could see that she was tired, and uneasy, like a rabbit scenting the fox anew after days of being hunted. For a moment he near wished for the bond; he would have liked to know how tired. If she was tired enough for him to see it…

And he would have liked to know the cause of her unease.

"I must ask you to forgive me, my friend," Moiraine went on. "You did not fail me. I set you up for failure, and the fault is mine. I am sorry to have caused you pain, but the alternatives were… worse. You'll have to trust me on that."

Lan nodded slowly. A movement from Nynaeve made him glance her way: her head had fallen to the side where she sat, but she seemed comfortable. The blanket stayed tucked about her, and she remained deeply asleep.

All that sleep, it might mean nothing, might be pure exhaustion. But it still worried him. He had seen soldiers lose heart and grow passive, begin to sleep overmuch, and then die. How did it go for Aes Sedai who lost saidar?

"How is she?" Moiraine wondered.

"She's practically slept since we came here," Lan replied.

"May I..?"

Lan nodded.

Moiraine rose gracefully, stepped up to Nynaeve's side and set a finger gently to her forehead. "She's still exhausted. Has she eaten enough?"

"She eats what they bring her that doesn't go bad between the kitchen and here. I make sure she does." He was careful to keep the concern out of his voice. "Should she be sleeping so long?"

"There is healing in sleep," Moiraine reminded him. She returned to her seat and reassumed that queenly poise, from which she studied him until he felt like squirming.

He clung to the ko'di and made himself stand still.

When she spoke, it was very formally. "I hereby release you from your vows to me, al'Lan Mandragoran. Go in the Light and be at peace."

Twice in so short a time she surprised him, but this time he did not blink. He bowed his head to her, and that was all.

"I hope that is enough to satisfy your honour, my friend," Moiraine told him. "I want you free to focus on your wife."

"It will be enough," Lan said. She had released him of her own free will, and even if it chafed, it had to be enough. The bond was no more, even the wound after it was now only a memory. All that remained was an insistent voice in the back of his head that told him he had a debt he could never settle. His life before hers, and he had failed. His companion for so many years, so many battles, and he had failed her. How to repay her?

Forgive himself? Difficult enough, which she likely knew. Burn him, but the woman knew him too well. Burn her, but she was right; Nynaeve had to be his priority now. She was his priority.

But Moiraine was still… Moiraine. He could not forget all they had been through just because he no longer served her, or because he no longer felt the pain of… of failing her. "How did you survive?" he asked.

"I'll tell you the long version some other day," Moiraine promised. "For now, know this. I was trapped in the world of the Aelfinn and the Eelfinn, and recently Thom and young Matrim rescued me."

"How –"

She raised a hand to silence him. "Not now, Lan. The Dragon Reborn has demands on my time, and I must keep myself brief." She studied Nynaeve again. "Did Corele tell you what she did?"

"They told me I was dead, and that she healed me. I don't know if I can believe it."

"Believe it. It is true. Though if I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have believed it either. Did Corele and that Asha'man of hers try to heal the… burning out?"

Just to say it made Moiraine feel ill. It showed in that slight hesitation. Lan tried not to think about that. He had known Aes Sedai to fall over retching when burning out came up, and Nynaeve… had to live it. He hoped it was just exhaustion that made her sleep so. Light make it so.

"Yes, but without success. They also questioned her."

"You disapprove?"

"She needed rest, and they kept her awake. It was inconsiderate. If Corele hadn't promised to ease some of that fatigue, I'd have thrown them both out." By the scruffs of their necks, One Power or not.

"Did they learn anything of use?"

Lan shrugged. "Nynaeve described… what she did. But neither of the two seemed pleased with her answers."

"I doubt her feat will be repeated," Moiraine murmured thoughtfully. "At such a price… did she say why she insisted on drawing so much? We tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen."

"She said that saidar kept her afloat, if barely, and she drew more and more to try to come back up."

"But it wasn't enough." Moiraine sighed, and turned her eyes from Nynaeve to Lan. "At the end of your healing, I could have sworn by the Light that Nynaeve was as dead as you had been. The moment after she lost saidar I delved her and found nothing. Not a spark. I healed her anyway, on an impulse, and somehow that brought her back."

"Then I am still indebted to you, for saving her," Lan said.

"As I will always be to her, for saving you when I abandoned you. Count us even."

He nodded, but he still felt uncomfortable. The price of an Aes Sedai's help was always smaller than you could believe and greater than you could imagine. Would Moiraine someday come back, to jerk those strings and make him – or Nynaeve – dance?

No. Not this time, he concluded. This woman, who he had always known to tie strings to everyone around her in preparation for some unknown future need, now seemed determined to sever any strings between the two of them. He had to trust that she meant what she said; she wanted him to belong fully to Nynaeve.

She had said it, and by the First Oath, it had to be so.

Moiraine went on. "I have a wedding gift for the two of you."

Lan recognized the focused look on her face as she began to channel something complex. He made himself stand still for it; he trusted her, if he trusted any Aes Sedai. He did. He just didn't like being channelled at when he didn't know –

A familiar knot of other bloomed in his head. He stared at her; she couldn't have bonded him again, could she?

Outside the ko'di, rage flared. Burn the woman if –

No. If he closed his eyes and pointed, his hand wouldn't aim at Moiraine. It would aim at his wife. At his wife. The ko'di wavered at that realisation. He controlled his shock, and stopped just short of gaping. How..?

"Min, of all people, has the Lord Dragon as her bonded Warder," Moiraine said, with that same small, secretive smile that could drive people to pull their hair out in frustration. "She told me of it, and made Aviendha show me the weave."

"You could have asked," gritted Lan.

"I simply couldn't imagine that either of you would object," Moiraine said innocently, and Lan could have sworn she was laughing on the inside. "I know Nynaeve wanted you for a Warder. And since you married her, which I assume was of your free will… don't scowl at me, Lan. Isn't it a marvellous gift?"

He smoothed his face with an effort. She was right. "It is."

In his head, Nynaeve was asleep, but she was unharmed, and at peace. Exhaustion dominated the bond – and he could have wept with relief. He had to wait until she woke to know… but with that exhaustion so apparent, his concern eased. Moiraine, too, had slept for days when she had overtaxed herself. It was no reason to fret.

"Thank you," he voiced, and meant it.

"Give Nynaeve my regards," Moiraine said in reply. "The Dragon Reborn calls everyone to him for Tarmon Gaidon, and I must go with him. Word is being spread to his allies as we speak. They'll be gathering."

Lan watched Nynaeve. She was so very beautiful, even huddled in an armchair with her head rather inelegantly lolled to the side. He was loathe to leave her again. But it had to be. This one, last time. "Tell Rand that I'll be along shortly."

"What of Nynaeve?" Moiraine wondered. "With or without saidar, she is still Nynaeve. She'll want to ride out and fight."

"She can't channel."

"Do you think a little thing like that would stop Nynaeve al'Meara?" smiled Moiraine.

"I can stop her," he muttered. "She can't channel at me, either. That means –"

Moiraine quirked a single eyebrow. "That means you can tie her up, lock her in a closet, and come back when Tarmon Gaidon is all over."

"…precisely."

"If you did, and if we win, and if you survived, would she ever forgive you?"

"No," gritted Lan. "But she would be safe."

"Safe?" repeated Moiraine, now with both eyebrows raised. She looked honestly surprised, and then the tiniest of frowns creased her brow. "Tell me, Lan. How much like a Warder do you feel now, bonded to a woman who can't channel?"

He shifted at the odd question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this. You haven't left this room, so perhaps you haven't noticed. But for two days now there have been bubbles of evil and Darkhounds and draghkar and Grey Men and simple Darkfriends wherever we turn. For two days I've felt like there's a Myrddraal no more than a step behind me and trollocs all around me. The Dark One's taint is so thick in the air it makes me want to retch. All the sisters feel it, and the Asha'man, too. At least, Damer Flinn admitted as much when Corele asked him. And the Warders are prowling about like hissing tomcats. It began when the Gap fell, and it's grown worse for each passing hour. Don't you feel it?"

"A Warder should," he agreed. Then shook his head in consternation. "But I don't."

She filed that inkling of information away – he could see the study in her gaze – but then moved on. She was no Brown, to lose herself in details. She would return to it when there was time. "Lan, I don't think Tarmon Gaidon will be limited to one place. I don't think there will be any safe place. If you want her safe, the best you can do is to stay with her, or bring her along."

Bring her! The thought made him feel sick, even within the ko'di.

"I'll have to find someone to look after her," he decided. "I can't… take her into battle. Not the way she is now." She couldn't channel. And even if she had been able to channel, she was exhausted.

"Consider this," Moiraine said. "You need to be fair to her. Don't let her wake and find you gone. Give her a say."

"She'll insist that I bring her," Lan murmured.

"Then bring her. Let her watch over you in any way she can. She has given you life as surely as your mother did. You never valued that life very highly, but remember that she does, and she paid dearly to return it to you. To abandon her now and die on some far-off battlefield would be to spit in her face. Not to mention it might well kill her."

Lan smothered his flinch in the ko'di. It took him a moment to compose himself. He looked down to find Moiraine's small hand resting on his wrist. She had risen, somehow without him noticing, and stood beside him. A very small woman, but with all an Aes Sedai's presence. Serenity and command.

Still, she met his questioning gaze with eyes that were surprisingly gentle. "To Nynaeve, you are the world. How do you think she would feel if she woke up and Tarmon Gaidon had passed, and you were dead?"

For a fleeting moment Lan regretted the new bond in his head. If he did fall at the Last Battle, Nynaeve would feel his death as surely as he had felt Moiraine's. That atop losing saidar

For Nynaeve, the outcome of Tarmon Gaidon would be secondary to whether or not he survived. It was a very odd feeling. It made him afraid in a way he hadn't known before. Afraid of dying. Not for his own sake, but for her sake.

"You are right," he concluded. Ko'di. A relaxed stance; Lily Caressed By The Wind. Relaxed, but ready to shift just enough not to fall when pushed. "She would not live long."

But would she live longer if he stayed with her? If he brought her along? In the first case… Moiraine was likely right. Everywhere was dangerous. To have the thousands of men and hundreds of channellers about that constituted the Dragon Reborn's forces might be an advantage. Might actually be safer. Or might turn them both into part of the world's greatest target.

She would want to fight. Could he deny her that?

He wanted to fight, Light help him. Could he forgive himself if he didn't?

To speak felt like shifting gravel with his voice. "I will speak with her when she wakes."

Smoothly Moiraine retreated a step and withdrew her hand from his wrist. "Then I will leave you. I must see if Rand needs me. There will be things to organize before all is ready. Light send we will be ready in time. Goodbye, Lan. Light bless you and keep you safe. You, and your wife." She glided with all Aes Sedai serenity for the door.

Before she left, however, he had to ask. "Moiraine."

The little woman he had served so long turned in the doorway. "Yes?"

"She… burned herself out. I know what that means." He had to force the words out. Tentacles of fear reached into the ko'di. "How long do you think she will live?"

"I think she will live as long as you do," Moiraine crisped. "Get a couple of children on her, and perhaps longer."

He smiled. He knew what it must have cost her cairhienin sense of propriety to add that last. "I think I could manage that."

Moiraine's blank expression told him quite firmly that she did not want any more details. "Then I must be on my way. Tarmon Gaidon will not wait."

Just outside the ko'di, concern tingled. For him to feel it, it must have been strong. She was already halfway through the door, turning again to leave; he halted her with a final question. "And what of your safety, Moiraine Sedai?"

"Mine?"

He let himself smile. That hasty blink of her eyes; he had surprised her. "I've been your sword and shield for twenty years. I'd like to know that you'll be safe."

"I can take care of myself, Lan. You know that."

"You overtax yourself. I know that. You need someone to look after you when you do."

And the secretive smile that spread over her face then made Lan wonder if he knew her at all. It was a smile he had never thought to see on her. "Goodbye, al'Lan Mandragoran. Light willing, we will meet again."

"After twenty years, at least do me the honour of answering."

There was laughter in her voice. "If you feel that I need looking after, then my new Warder will meet with your approval."

He knew that she would say no more. Moiraine juggled secrets like a gleeman did colourful balls. He had rarely been fast enough to snatch one out of the air from her. So instead of arguing, he nodded slowly. If she had bonded a man, that was enough.

Then he realised that she had not said that she had. Will meet with your approval could be in present or future tense, impossible to tell.

Before he could speak, she had backed out the door and shut it.

Lan sighed, and turned back to Nynaeve. He leaned down to kiss her forehead. He would not disturb her rest. If she slept past the Last Battle, then he would stay and watch her sleep. If she woke… if she wished to ride out, they would ride out. She would never forgive him if he held her back; he would hardly forgive himself for not going.

In either case, he would protect her. Light help him if he did not.


Author's Note:

I realised I wanted to do this addition because Cadsuane interrupted the reunion between Moiraine and Lan, and I was sort of angry to have missed it.

I did this from Lan's point of view, and then again from Moiraine's point of view, and tried to decide between them. I thought I'd post Moiraine's point of view, and do a third chapter from Lan's view, detailing "when Nyneave wakes up". Then I realised I had no idea what to do with such a chapter aside from the obligatory "I'm so glad you're alive", "I don't need saidar as long as I've got you", kiss and hug. So I never wrote it. Thus, I posted the Lan chapter, because it was the better of the two. Hope you like it.