A Whisper in the Wind

Perrin walked with Aragorn toward his tent. Under his arm was a round bundle. "I can think of no one better than you to support me," the older man said as he pushed open the flaps.

"It is your birthright," Perrin responded as he carefully set down the bundle. "And perhaps with my help, you will have what you need to look in Sauron's face." He was sure of it. All they had done, all they would do, and this was but another step in their long diversion. The pieces were set. Now Aragorn had to show himself as the new Ringlord.

"You have the sword," Perrin said. "You have the stone. Soon, if all goes well, you will have a crown and the hand of the last elvish princess. Do not forget for what you fight."

Aragorn looked at him, puzzled. Perrin explained. "It is about will. I know you are strong. You ran across Rohan. But for this battle, it has to come from here." He pointed to his heart, and Aragorn nodded.

"I will touch it first, and then you will touch it after me." He twitched the cloth from the stone and placed his hands over it. Perrin followed a moment later, and found himself flying, soaring over the lands of Middle Earth as though he was an eagle. Over the Great River and past the peaks of the Emyn Muil he passed, and then the Black Gate passed beneath him. Over the blackness of Mordor he passed and then a tall tower appeared before him. Up he flew, higher and higher, and then…he saw the Dark Lord. A lidless Eye, wreathed in flame.

"I SEE YOU!" Sauron said, and his voice was that of knives, flashing and cutting. Perrin took a deep breath. Slayer had been a deadly enemy, but Slayer was still only a man. This was far stronger, but he used all that Hopper had taught him and pushed back. It was like pushing a mountain.

"DO YOU THINK TO CHALLENGE ME, MAN FROM THE STARS?" Sauron's voice was full of laughter and mockery. "ARE YOU THE ONE WHO BEARS MY PRIZE?"

Perrin found his voice. "I am but the messenger, Sauron the Accursed! I am the herald of one who would defeat you." Up came Aragorn, but the Ranger was gone. Dressed in royal robes and wearing the crown of Gondor, not seen in over a thousand years, Aragorn was transformed. In his hand, Anduril glistened with light and power.

"I AM THE MASTER OF ILLUSIONS, RANGER. THAT SWORD WAS BROKEN, AND SOON, YOUR RACE WILL BOW BENEATH MY ANGER! MINAS TIRITH WILL BURN!"

Aragorn looked strained, but his voice never wavered. "It has been reforged. Look into my eyes, if you dare! See the courage that will unite men against you! Did you think men would cower under your boot forever?"

The Eye swung to Aragorn, and released from that deadly gaze, Perrin pushed with renewed strength. The mountain moved an inch, and from the Eye came a sudden stab of fear. Perrin could still hear the words, but now the fear was plain. "FOOL! YOU CANNOT USE THAT POWER. IT IS MINE ALONE!"

"Should I master it, the Dark Tower would bow to me, and you would pass into the shadows. You know who I am, and what blood flows in my veins. You remember Luthien and Beren, Master of Treachery!"

"THEY DIED. SO WILL YOU!"

"In the end, but I do not fear death! I do not fear you!" Aragorn's voice, still strained, now held a triumphant edge. Taking his own words, Perrin pushed again. As he had for the reforging of Narsil, Perrin poured into the push all the strength and power of men, and their valour. Sauron, blind in his anger and fear, suddenly weakened, and the mountain moved, shifting wildly. The Eye cried, and suddenly the pressure was gone. The top of the Tower now stood empty in this world so much like the World of Dreams.

Aragorn reappeared. Sweat coated his face, but he looked triumphant. In his hands, he held the Palantir, and gazed into it. Only for a moment, then he disappeared. At once, Perrin also felt himself falling, and he opened his eyes to see the tent flap above him. Apparently he had fallen on his back.

A strong hand pulled his arm, and he came to his feet. Aragorn looked gray and pale, but his eyes shone with victory.

"I had the right. And the strength. Barely. And it is enough to know that Sauron is not above fear."

Perrin nodded. "I felt it. But his strength!" His bones felt like water, and Aragorn poured water for him.

"Yours was the stronger, my friend! With your aid, the Stone is now mine! He will not challenge me again, unless it is on the field of battle."

Perrin remembered the names he had been chanting. "You mocked him to his face. He did not like hearing the name of Luthien, I reckon."

"No. He did not. His anger is now great, but in his anger, I saw his plan. He will try and raze Minas Tirith to the ground. We need more men, for I also saw someone standing beside him."

"Who? Was it the Witch King?"

"Someone worse." Aragorn looked pale again. "I sensed a women, cruel beyond even the orc. She does not seek power, but pain."

"Semirhage." The word came harsh from his lips. "Of all the Forsaken, she was the worst. It was said even the others feared her."

"Will she attack openly, or in the shadows?"

"She will use pain to divide and conquer. My friend, Rand, told me a little." He shivered even at the memory of that telling. "Without lifting a weapon, she brought him, the strongest of us all, nearly into the Dark. I think it is my task to seek her out and destroy her."

"Can you face her?" Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder in a show of support.

Perrin remembered the fight with Graendal. This would be different, in a sense, but no less difficult. "I must try."

181818

Elayne strode into the courtyard of the White Tower, fear twisting a knot in her belly. Even six months after the King and Queen of Saldaea had disappeared without a trace, she had not mastered it. So far, no other ruler had been taken, but…what if it happened again?

The study of the Amyrlin was full. Pevara looked up from her desk. "You are late," she said, but with no disapproval.

Nynaeve looked over in commiseration. "It is the young ones." Her own, born soon after the disappearance, nestled at her breast.

Moiraine smiled at her, and the other nobles, nestled around the table, nodded or sent other greetings. Logain rose slowly. A wound he had taken soon after the Last Battle still pained him, but his voice was still clear.

"We are gathered here to ratify that Elayne is now the Queen of Saldaea, in light of the disappearance of Perrin and Faile. The people of Saldaea have accepted her, now let us also do so."

"Thank you, Logain," Elayne said. The new leader of the Black Tower had been a Guardian in truth, his steadfast leadership turning the Asha'man from a community of fear to one of welcome and acceptance. She took the paper handed to her and signed it, passing it to Moiraine, who as the Steward of Cairhien, also signed. Around the table the document went, last of all being signed by Logain and Pevara.

"It is done," the Amyrlin said. "I still wish they could be found, and perhaps they might. They will be missed if it proven they are dead."

Her Warder and husband, Androl, spoke softly. "The Asha'man are still searching. We have captured several Dreadlords, but they know nothing, even when put to the question."

Darlin, King of Tear, spoke quietly. "What of the Aes Sedai?"

"I speak as one bound to the Three Oaths that we have also searched and found nothing." Pevara's answer was polite, but there was strain in her words that Elayne heard. "The Light guide us all." As one, the nobles rose.

"Elayne, a moment." Logain spoke, and Elayne halted, waiting until only the two of them and the Amyrlin were left.

"Yesterday one of my men recovered Sakarnen, the sa'angreal used by Demandred in the Last Battle. I have already spoken to Pevara, and we have agreed it should be given to the Black Tower. That being said, it is the most powerful sa'angreal ever made, save for the Choedan Kal which are no more. As the most powerful ruler on this side of the Waste, I also wished for you to know."

"Do you wish for my team to study it?" One of the things that Elayne had done after the Last Battle was to set up a commission from both Towers to study all the 'angreal that had been discovered and were still being discovered, as well as those held by the White Tower. Some she had even been able to duplicate, though not many, and call boxes were now in every ruler's palace.

Logain nodded. "Yes. Perhaps it will bear fruit we cannot see yet."

181818

The man wished to be away from the White Tower, and he was. It was a slight ripple in the Pattern, and some might be able to discover where he had gone. Not many, though, at least not any from this Age. And from the Age of Legends, he was the only one left. Unless Moghedian had also lived. There were rumors of a strange damane among the Seanchan.

A problem for another time, perhaps. He was pleased, though, pleased that the Black and White Towers now worked together. It had been one of his greatest dreams, even when madness nearly had him in its grip. Perhaps a full, unified Tower might eventually be possible, as had once been.

Min smiled at him as he walked in the door. "A good trip?" she said.

"Yes." The Doomseer of the Seanchan was sometimes allowed leave, and at this time she visited him in the Blight, where he had his home. Former Blight. The soil was stony, and the black rocks were still forbidding, but Shadowspawn no longer haunted the Mountains of Dhoom, and the Worms had been driven from the Blasted Lands. He had a small plot he lovingly tended that supplied his fruits and vegetables, and he traded with a small town, a day's ride away, that supplied his other needs.

"You look tired," she said. "There are other watchers now, other guardians."

The man once known as Rand Al'Thor sighed. It was a running debate between them, and he knew she was right. However, there were still some things he liked to do himself. To tend the Pattern was one of them, and he was weary from the constant struggle to find his friends.

"Come," she said, and led him to the table, where he ate, and then to the bedroom. He was tired enough, after, that he fell asleep.

At once he knew it was no ordinary dream, for as when he fought the Dark One, he saw the Pattern, then again, larger, the Great Web, then even larger, showing all the worlds that were or could be. He was dizzy with the scope of the Creator's work, vast beyond even his comprehension. In some, there was no knowledge of the Power. In some, the Dark One took visible form and walked the land, while the Creator also took flesh and died for man's salvation. Some worlds were dead, while others had just come to be. In some, men had reached the stars, and great empires fought in space, while in others, men did not exist, and animals ran free of fear. Some held races he did not know, while in others, only plants covered barren ground.

Spinning through swirls of energy that might devour even him, he found himself coming into a world like one he had seen before, full of strange races and powers. In an instant, he saw its history, the great evils and battles that had already been fought, and one quickly approaching. In a dark land, Faile walked, two creatures that looked like short men with her. One carried the world's doom. Across mountains and a river his sight flashed. His boyhood friend walked among a field of horses, talking with a tall man who wore a star on his brow. A king?

Toward the setting sun his eyes flashed, and then past the sun, to a green land walled with mountains steep as cliffs. To the highest of these peaks his eyes flashed, and the hall that sat on the very summit. Two figures stood there, and even in his dream Rand knew he was a candle next to them. He had wrestled with the Dark One in spirit, but these…they would treat the Dark One as an annoying fly.

He bowed. "Welcome, Rand Al'Thor," the male said. "Only for a moment can I keep you here, for the veil is stretched tight. Let me say only that I and my wife are much like you- a guardian and watcher. Once, we did more. Much more. However, our time is coming to an end."

Rand swallowed. "Did you bring my friends to this place?" he asked.

"We do not have that power. Only the One could do that."

Rand now knew they were in a plan far beyond his understanding. "It is enough to know where they are. And their purpose, powers?"

"They are to help save our world from utter ruin. What the small one carries…could destroy the world if it is used to its full power. He goes to destroy it in the place where it was made."

"A dark land for heroic deeds." Rand spoke reverently. "And their return?"

The woman spoke. "Guardian, will it help or hinder you to know the future?"

Rand thought, then shook his head. He did not want to be Min, seeing pieces of the Pattern. He had never wanted that gift, not even for her.

The man spoke. "You are wise, for one so young. Now you must return. Farewell…until we meet again."

Rand was about to ask, but then he was gone, spinning and falling through an endless void. He started awake, feeling Min's arms and hearing her sleepy murmur. He lit a lantern and shook her awake. "I know where they are," he said.

Min was awake in a moment. "Where?"

As he unfolded the story, Min's eyes rose. "We don't have spirits here. We have the Power and the Dark One, who gives immortality, it is said. But…creatures that will never die…"

"I can only surmise it has different rules than our own." Rand spoke softly. "At least I know that they are safe. For now. Though Faile puts herself in danger she should not, perhaps."

"The Borderlanders are brave, and the Saldaeans more so than most." Min smiled, and it was fond. "If the Creator wishes them to fight in a war not their own, that is what they will do."

Rand agreed, remembering both Bashere, who was now dead, and Lan, who was not. "Would you like to see Lan?" he asked, the memory jogging his mind. "Nynaeve would probably like to know about this as well."

"You have kept your identity a secret for over a year," Min argued. "As far as anyone knows, you are a simple traveler who decided to make a home. No one wonders at that. Should you talk to Lan and Nynaeve…"

Rand sighed. "Very likely people will find out I am still alive. But they will still not find me. I wear another's face and my home is in a place few go."

Min still sounded uncertain. "Very well. I would like to see them, in truth. They have come to Ebou Dar at times, but I would like to see the Seven Towers rebuilt."

181818

Fortuona sat on the Crystal Throne, her eyes never leaving the faces of the nobles kneeling before her. Was there treachery? The ever faithful Selucia was at her right hand, and she wished for Darbinda on her left. Still, Darbinda had faithfully served in the bloody retaking of Seanchan, working with her husband to root out all opposition and sit her on the throne. They both deserved time off, her husband to visit her ancestral home and Darbinda to visit a cousin she had not seen in over a year.

General Galgan stood just below her, and the oaths of fealty began, with him leading. The awe generated by the Throne would lower anyone's eyes, but she had seen assassins in the shadows and felt the touch of the Dark. She still shivered at that, even if she never showed it openly.

One of the first things she had done once the Last Battle was won was root out every Darkfriend, both among her advisors and among the damane and suldam. There had been some…surprises. Especially the strange damane she had captured. A messenger had come from the Black Tower to tell who she really was. That hour, she had lost her head. Fortuona knew she would make a powerful damane, but she knew she served the Dark. Had served the dark for years on years. She could not, would not, take another chance. Not after Semirhage. Never again.

The oaths of fealty finished, she rose. Selucia rose with her, and the nobles departed. "What do we do now?" her bodyguard asked.

"We rebuild what has been destroyed. The Dark One nearly cost us the Empire. The rot that was within has now been removed. Now let us make peace with all." She spoke magnamaniously, for had not the victory been won?

"And what of what your husband says?"

Fortuona frowned. She loved him, truly. But truly, she was torn. She had not forgotten what Elayne had said. Or Egwene. Or even her great forefather, the Hawkwing himself. His conversation had been…eye-opening.

"Can I…can I destroy the foundation of the Empire? Will it be the Empire without the leashing of those who can channel?"

"You will still have the Seekers and the Ever Victorious Army. Other nations, other rulers, do without this, and have survived even the Last Battle. Your people know you, and love you."

Fortuona sighed. Selucia was right, and she knew it to her bones, but she feared another rebellion so soon after reuniting her empire. Whole regions were now near wastelands, so brutal the war had been. And the people still loved her. Even now, for she strove for order and justice, and the abuses of the rebels had been stopped. But would that love last if she overturned a thousand years of culture?

"I will consult the omens. When Darbinda returns, we will see what the Pattern reveals."

General Galgan, who had remained, sighed. "You know I have served you faithfully, Highness, but…I am weary of war. I never thought I would see so much bloodshed." He indeed looked weary. He was growing older, and lines hung under his eyes. "I own no damane myself, as you know, but…they are our history. Can history be changed? Should it be?"

To that, Fortuona had no answer.

A/N: I am sorry for leaving you! It has been an extremely busy few months, and I also had to take some time to clear my head. I decided to show what was happening back in Randland as I work to gather all the threads together for the big finish.

I believe if Cadsuane does not want to be Amyrlin, she doesn't have to. Pevara would be better for the post, anyway, at least in my opinion (Cadsuane is an Amyrlin for war, but I believe Pevara is the Amyrlin for peace). Logain remains the leader of the Black Tower as in canon.

I decided to take the multiverse theory in part and pretend that all possible fictional universes actually exist somewhere. You can see some of the worlds I mention in passing.

Whether Fortuona decides to follow her better nature or not will have a big ripple effect. I skipped over the war for the sake of the plot, but I will probably give some of Mat's thoughts somewhere down the line.