I saw the queen's butt

And her bare, royal bosom

But it's not the point

"What do you mean, she undressed in front of you?"

Toveine Gazal had taken residence in the room adjacent to Natael's. Such proximity wasn't necessary, strictly speaking, but caution dictated that they should keep an eye on the Aes Sedai they'd bonded. Or so Taim claimed.

Unfortunately, they didn't have nearly enough space to house the Asha'man, as well as the Aes Sedai, in the palaces. A new construction was therefore underway. Instead of a palace, it would be…an inn, of sorts. The official explanation was that each Asha'man should have his own room; in truth, the men would still have to bunk two or three per room. They would sleep in this new building, once it was completed, in a day or two, while the women would be divided between the two palaces. Gabrelle had decided to stay with Logain in his barracks, a suspicious arrangement in Natael's opinion. Knowing Logain, he was afraid that it wouldn't take long until the two of them shared more than living quarters.

"Well, some Aiel women barged into the sitting room and told her to take off her clothes. And she bloody did!"

Natael was still a bit shaken – and immensely confused. He'd seen plenty of naked women in his life, had often helped them removed their garments, in fact, but for a would-be queen to fully undress in front of three complete strangers, for no reason that Natael's mind could conjure… For that matter, her royal status was hardly relevant; why would anyone do that? Was Elayne Trakand trying to destabilise them?

If so, she'd succeeded.

But why?

Granted, the Black Tower was a thorn in her foot – in Andor's foot – but what sort of insane strategy was this? What was she trying to achieve? All Natael felt like doing at the moment was tell everyone what he'd witnessed, in the hope that someone could explain to him what had happened.

Taim and Logain had suggested an obscure Andoran tradition, but Gabrelle, Logain's bondmate, had never heard of anything quite like it – and not only was she Andoran, she was a Brown sister.

Toveine was equally puzzled, but she came up with a much more likely explanation. "Must be an Aiel custom," she mused. "Wouldn't even be the most absurd one."

Natael, who had spent several months in the Aiel Waste, agreed. "But Trakand isn't Aiel," he remarked.

Toveine shrugged. "Plenty of them to be found everywhere, nowadays, thanks to the al'Thor boy. The savages must have converted the girl to their wicked ways."

"But…why would she comply to this bizarre request at such an inopportune time?" Namely, when she had male visitors in her sitting room. Had al'Thor commanded her to obey the Wise Ones? Was Trakand merely a puppet of the Dragon Reborn? It seemed unlikely. The girl had been annoyed whenever the lad was mentioned, and she was beyond furious that the Asha'man had carved part of Andor to build their…compound. That was the word she'd employed. She would not use the preferred term and call it the Black Tower. "Does she have any clue how it made her look? It sapped both her authority and her sanity in one clean stroke! No one is going to take her seriously after this. She's never going to be queen."

"Does it really matter?"

"What do you mean?"

Toveine sniffed. "Whoever ends up on the Lion Throne, they won't be able to remove you. They can make your life slightly more difficult, perhaps, but that's it." Indeed. Any attempt to attack the Black Tower was doomed to fail; it would be like trying to take over the White Tower.

Even if the Aes Sedai weren't divided, all of the female channelers in the world would be hard-pressed to dislodge the Asha'man, and any battle of this scale between male and female channelers would likely cause a second Breaking, or near enough. If there was any hope to defeat the Great Lord, they would have to stand together against the Shadow. Somehow, al'Thor would have to unite the two Towers before the Last Battle. Well, al'Thor or someone else. The Dragon Reborn was a busy man.

"So why does it matter if Elayne becomes queen or not?" Toveine went on. She didn't give him an opportunity to reply. "Besides, I wouldn't be so sure that she won't. She has the Dragon Reborn's support, after all. And if she's anything like her mother, she's more cunning that you give her credit for."

"It's hard to credit her with anything after she pulled something like this!"

"Peace, are you still hung up on this?" someone called from the door. "Pull yourself together, Nate." Taim strode into Natael's study without an invitation, exactly as he'd done a few hours ago at the Royal Palace. In all likelihood, it had contributed to the surly welcome they'd received. "Surely you've seen naked women before. It's not that much of a novelty. She's not even that good-looking."

He was wrong there. Elayne Trakand was nothing short of beautiful, in all physical aspects. It was her personality that left a lot to be desired. In this, she wasn't that different from Taim – though if Natael had said that in her presence, she would have balefired him on the spot. He had a feeling that it had been a close shave as it was. The girl had mostly ignored Natael and even Logain, but the looks she'd given Taim were full of mistrust and anger.

Toveine, he noticed, was smiling. Smirking, really, but he couldn't figure out why. Something she'd felt through the bond? An idle thought? Her emotions were easy to read, but they didn't always make sense to him. At the moment, she was amused, but also…disgusted, for some reason.

Natael poured himself a cup of wine. It was a bit early for that, but he needed it. He didn't offer one to either of the other two. "If Trakand isn't to your taste, Taim, no woman will ever be good enough for you."

Taim regarded him as if he were a female channeler – or something else he immensely disliked and found revolting. "I...didn't come here to discuss the girl's attractiveness," he said prissily. "We must plan for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

Taim rolled his eyes. "She's coming to visit, you nitwit! Were you too enthralled by her nudity to register that information?"

"Oh. Yes. I mean, no, I wasn't." He cleared his throat. "What about it?"

Taim closed his eyes and briefly massaged his temples. "Well, we have fifty captive Aes Sedai to conceal from her."

"What's fifty women in a sea of male channelers?" Logain said. He was standing on the threshold, shoulder against the frame.

Was the whole Black Tower going to barge into his study without being invited?

Do not ask that! he scolded himself. Have you learned nothing? The moment you ask yourself that sort of question, someone else does come in and, like as not, it's Demandred. Or worse, Moridin.

"Elayne will be too focused on the army we've assembled here to notice the gals," Logain went on. "They'll be told to keep to their lodgings until Elayne is gone, and that's it. Surely she won't inspect every single room we have. Besides, the White Tower being what it is at the moment, Elayne must have no idea that Elaida sent these ones to gentle us." He walked into the room, poured himself some wine and sat down in Natael's favourite chair. "I wonder if she'll get naked again," he speculated, a faraway look in his eyes.

"If she does, I hope she has the sense to do it in front of them, rather than in front of you," Toveine snapped.

Logain greeted this with a strong, charming laugh, and he gave her his best smile, which had no effect on Toveine. She wasn't easily seduced. Natael, on the other hand, was captivated. Life was so much better when Logain smiled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Taim demanded.

Natael was going to deflect that question and forge ahead with the matter of Trakand's upcoming visit, but Toveine spoke before him. He wished he'd commanded her not to talk without his permission, but it was too late. "That he's a pig, and that you're as interested in seeing Elayne Trakand's bare buttocks as in seeing an actual pig. Much safer for her to undress in your presence than his. Even if you are still a male channeler," she added as an afterthought. "Sort of."

"'Sort of'?" Taim repeated.

"Hey, don't be like that," Logain chided her. "He's still a man. I don't care for your attitude, Toveine Sedai." He turned to Natael, who, for once, had no idea what to say to defuse the situation, or to remove that expression from Taim's face. "Well, do something. Tell her to shut it, Nate. Or, better yet, send her to her room, so that we can talk amongst ourselves. She has no business listening to this."

"Stop talking and go to your room," Natael said weakly. "Don't try to eavesdrop."

Toveine was obviously tempted to defy him despite the bond, but in the end she executed her orders without a word. She didn't close the door behind her, but Logain seized saidin and slammed it. "What a…witch," he muttered. "Man, I'm glad I picked Gabrelle."

Natael glared at him. He hadn't picked Toveine at all. She had been forced upon him by a loaded dice.

"Nate, what did she mean?" Taim demanded.

Natael buried his face in his cup, though it was empty. Taim didn't know about the rumours, then. He didn't know what the men thought he was – what everyone thought he was.

Chances were, Taim himself didn't know what he was, or refused to accept it.

"Don't pay attention to her," Logain said when Natael didn't reply. "She's an old hag. She's a Red hag. They're not exactly known for their…open-mindedness."

Natael glanced at Taim. He still had no clue, judging by his expression. He was usually too proud to repeat a question, or even to ask it in the first place, sometimes, but not today. He wanted to get to the bottom of it. "Open-minded about what?"

"About you and Nate, of course," Logain replied.

Natael seriously considered opening a gateway to the Land of Madmen and never coming back, but he seemed frozen in place. He had no choice but to witness his world crumble to pieces around him.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, though," Logain went on. "As I already told Nate, the men don't mind. Sure, they make jests, but it's all in good fun, no harm intended. I always straighten them out if it gets out of line." He leaned forward, unaware that Taim's face was now dangerously blank. "Now, about Her Royal Nakedness's visit-"

"What about Nate and myself?" Taim insisted.

Logain looked up, frowning. "Well-"

"Logain, can you give us a moment, please?" Natael interrupted him.

He hesitated before standing up. "Er, sure. I'll wait outside." He headed for the door. "Mm, come to think of it, I'll go down to the kitchen. I'm starved." The door closed behind him.

"What in the Pit of Doom is going on?" Taim thundered. Of course. Now that it was just the two of them, he didn't have to hide his temper or even rein it in.

"It's just a silly rumour," Natael said. He affected a casual tone, but knew it wouldn't fool Taim. Burn Logain! It was one thing for Toveine to run her mouth, but did he have to implicate Natael by implying that he'd known all along?

"What silly rumour? Natael, I swear, if you don't spell it out for me right this instant, I will obliterate you!" To show that it wasn't an empty threat, he seized saidin.

"Well, for some reason, the men seem to think that you and I… That we…" Ugh, why was it so hard to say it out loud? He'd dreamed about it. Had seriously considered asking Taim, to make it real, instead of it being a mere rumour.

And he'd always chickened out at the last moment.

Toveine's arrival had not helped, obviously, and after what she'd said today, it would be nearly impossible… Could he even salvage any sort of relationship with Taim at this point? After all, by keeping the rumour to himself, Natael had essentially been lying to him.

"…that we're involved in a romantic relationship," he finished lamely.

Taim didn't react. His face was utterly impassive. He turned his back on Natael, edged toward the table and poured himself a cup of wine. He filled it to the brim and began gulping it down.

Natael took that opportunity to defend himself. "I didn't start the rumour, Taim. Maybe Atal did." Natael had a strong feeling about this. "But you heard Logain, nobody minds. It's not a big-"

"How long have you known?" Taim demanded. His cup was empty already.

"Um…just a few days." That was the truth. Depending on how one defined "a few", of course.

"And you did nothing to dismiss it as a ridiculous, completely unfounded rumour? You didn't laugh it off when Logain mentioned it to you? If you two talked about it, why does the man believe it to be true?"

"I…never confirmed it."

"Nor denied it, apparently," Taim growled.

"You see, I was thinking…" Better to do it now, right? He wouldn't get another chance, now that the cat was out of the bag. "I figured, since everyone already thinks we're a couple, and they don't have a problem with it… Well, we did discuss this before, didn't we? Would it really be such a crazy-"

"Discussed it? You mean that nonsense of a conversation we had back at Dumai's Wells?" Taim scoffed. "Nate. This is insane. You're insane. The taint has turned your brains to mush. I don't…think of you that way. Never have, never will." He paused to refill his cup. "You or any other man. I'm not…like that." He downed his second cup as if it were milk – his second since he'd walked into Natael's study, that was. For all he knew, Taim had already had a few. "You have to stop making potentially damaging assumptions about me. You may not care for your reputation, but I do. Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, before Trakand arrives, you and I will make an official announcement in front of everyone. Anyone caught jesting about it afterwards, or even mentioning it, will be severely punished, to deter the others. Am I making myself clear?" He stood straight, and his expression was stern, but his speech was garbled by the wine.

Natael considered meekly agreeing with this. He really did…however briefly.

"If you have no problem lying to them, you go ahead, but I won't. Deny it all you want, you know that these 'assumptions' are more than that. And, contrary to what you led me to believe, they are not as damaging as you said they could be. Your reputation is safe, Taim. The men still respect you. Burn me, even Logain respects you, though he won't say it out loud. Is it because of Toveine? Do you really care what an Aes Sedai thinks of you? What a Red Aes Sedai thinks of you? If it bothers you that much, I'll deal with her. She won't utter a word ever again, I promise you that." After all, maiming was his specialty, according to the buffoons of this Age. Not music, but the maiming of his musical competition. Might as well give the populace what they expected.

"This is the taint talking," Taim murmured. "I ought to slip some asping rot in your wine carafe."

"And here we go again," Natael said with a heavy sigh. "Threatening to kill me when what I say makes you uncomfortable, blaming the taint… I am perfectly lucid. We both are, but only one of us is deluding himself."

"I'm not-"

"Get out of my study," Natael said. His voice was low, but firm. "I can't reason with you when you're like this. Come back when you've sobered up. I'll discuss Trakand's visit with Logain and we'll make the necessary arrangements without you. You're in no condition to make important decisions."

When he was drunk, Taim often had trouble keeping a straight face. Shock was painted on it now. Natael could almost read his thoughts: how dare he talk to me like this? How dare he imply that I'm drunk? How dare he order me about as if I were not superior to him in every single way?

"I'm tired of this endless, confusing back-and-forth between us, Taim," Natael whispered. "I'm tired of your moodiness. Your attitude towards me changes every day, if not hourly. It's messing with my head worse than the taint ever could. I need to know exactly where we stand. I can't go on like this. I will go mad if you keep acting this way, with nary a care for my feelings. I do have feelings, you know. All of the Chosen do, contrary to popular belief."

If anything, the Chosen felt too strongly – that was what led them to the Shadow.

He half-expected a drunken tirade telling him that he had it all wrong, that Taim's attitude was the same towards him as it was towards everyone else, that he was reading too much into meaningless words and actions.

Instead, Taim let his empty cup fall to the floor and silently exited the room, without so much as a glance in Natael's direction.

Natael stirred in his sleep. Elayne Trakand, clad only in her birthday suit, was visiting the Black Tower and nothing was going as it should. The men were drunk; the captive Aes Sedai were out in the streets, wearing their shawls; Taim and Logain were locked in a duel to the death. Natael was futilely attempting to deal with it all by himself, until Demandred and Moridin arrived, deemed him unworthy of the Chosen and murdered him. The Great Lord then decided to bring him back and give him a new body to punish him further for his failure.

He woke up with a wordless scream when he held up a mirror and realised it reflected Toveine's face.

He was sweaty, his covers were tangled. Did I scream out loud? Did Toveine hear it?

At the thought of her name, he shuddered. That thrice-cursed bond was driving him mad. Everything in this flaming place seemed designed to drive him mad.

"Nate? Are you alright?"

Natael nearly fell off his bed. He turned toward the voice, but the room was too dark. He could barely distinguished a silhouette. Well, he didn't need to see; he knew who it was. "What in the Pit of Doom are you doing here? You scared me half to death!"

"I'm sorry," Taim mumbled. "I wanted to…talk to you, but you were already asleep. So I…"

"Waited by the bed and watched me sleep like some sort of deranged pervert?" He meant it as a joke, but he sounded dry and ill-tempered, perhaps because he was still miffed – both about their earlier conversation and about almost suffering a heart attack, just then.

There was a muffled sound. "You were tossing and turning and babbling in your sleep. I thought I should stay, to make sure you were…" Some rustling, and the silhouette stood. "Never mind. We'll talk…later."

"No!" He sat up straight, rearranged the covers around him and, seizing saidin, he conjured some light. Taim held a hand before his eyes to protect them from the sudden glare. He was wearing a black, silky robe. Natael couldn't help but notice that even that was embroidered with colourful dragons on the sleeves. "You're sober, right?" Taim nodded, slowly lowering his hand as his eyes adjusted to the light. "Then let's talk now. I'm wide awake, anyway. Thanks to you." The nightmare was more to blame, in truth, but Natael was feeling petty. "Sit down."

Taim didn't move. "It can wait until morning, Nate. I-"

"Sit. Your arse. Down," he repeated forcefully.

This time he complied and returned to the nearby chair. He usually sat regally, as if any seat was a throne to him, but now he was slouching and looking awkward. "I don't know what you want from me."

"I want you to give me an honest answer: do you have feelings for me?"

Taim was fidgeting with one of the cushions. He wouldn't meet Natael's eyes. The sound he produced next was impossible to identify.

Natael deemed it vain to repeat the question. Taim wouldn't commit to a proper answer. "Well, I do. I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings."

There. He'd said it.

He wasn't struck down by lightning. He didn't suffer a stroke. Time didn't stop, the moon didn't fall out of the sky, the world didn't end. Taim didn't burst into flames, either.

"I know that you think this is improper," he continued. He was determined to say his piece, now that he'd finally opened up. "Toveine certainly seems to agree with the sentiment. But Logain doesn't. The men respect us – you – enough to pretend that it's nothing out of the ordinary. Will others be bothered by it? Yes. Will they whisper about it behind your back? Sure. Will they try to bring you down, to sully your reputation, to slander you? You can count on it." He removed the covers and sat at the edge of the bed, facing Taim directly, though the other man's gaze was still locked on the ground at his feet. "They may even attempt violence. But you know what? It doesn't matter. For one thing, because you can destroy anyone without lifting a finger and, for another, because you won't be alone. I'll be there for you, Taim. Come what may, I'll have your back. And so will our men. You're not alone," he repeated softly.

Taim was still and silent for such a long time that Natael wondered if he'd broken the man's mind. Eventually, Taim looked up, his dark eyes shining with their characteristic intensity, and asked a single question: "May I sleep here tonight?"