Time is running out

That's a lot of conditions

I screwed up again

Natael knocked on the door to Taim's bedchamber, but there was no reply. He hesitated for a few minutes. Was it better to wait for Taim to calm down, or barge in and have a serious discussion, whether Taim wanted it or not?

Natael decided that it couldn't wait. At the risk of infuriating Taim even further, he stepped inside the room. It was plunged in total darkness, so he weaved a small ball of light to guide himself to the bed. Taim pretended to be asleep, buried under the covers, or at least he didn't react to Natael's presence. He wasn't snoring, though, so Natael knew he was awake. "We should talk about it, Taim. It's never a good idea to go to bed angry." No response. "Please?" Nothing. Not even an exasperated grunt. Natael sat down on the bed. "Come on, I know you're not asleep." He put a hand on the pile of sheets under which Taim lay.

"Go away," he finally muttered.

Ah, progress. He was acknowledging Natael's existence. "Look, I was just-"

Taim sat up, throwing off some of the blankets. "You lied to me! What's worse, you lied to me and you involved Logain in your deceit."

"I was trying to protect you!"

"I don't need your protection!" he barked. "I need you to be honest with me. A relationship cannot be based on lies, no matter how pure your intentions!"

Natael smiled tentatively. "So you do want a relationship."

Taim didn't return his smile. Judging by his expression, he might never smile again. "I did. For a few hours, I did. I let myself believe that it was possible. But you always mess up everything, don't you? Last night was perfect, but you just had to ruin it, mere hours later."

Last night was perfect.

Natael fumbled for more excuses. It couldn't end like this, before it even had a chance to begin. "Toveine is vile, Taim. She despises us, not because we swore an oath to the Shadow, but because we spent the night together." To be fair, now that she knew about the Shadow thing, she probably despised them for that, also. "I didn't want you to find out because…you're having trouble with this as it is and I…I was afraid it would dissuade you forever. I didn't want to jeopardise what we have – what we could have – on account of one biased Aes Sedai."

There was a long pause. Natael hated long pauses in serious conversations. He wished Taim would just speak his mind without thinking about it too much. Maybe he should have brought wine. Taim was more candid when he was inebriated. The problem was that he usually forgot everything he'd said the next day – especially the nice things.

"I already knew that she was vile," Taim said eventually. Natael breathed out in relief. "She's an Aes Sedai, and a bloody Red at that."

"Yes, well, even by Red Ajah standards, she's awful." He chuckled. "Even by Chosen standards, she's awful. None of them feel that way toward people like us. In fact, some of them are like us." Rahvin and Graendal lusted for men and women alike. Mesaana enjoyed the company of women exclusively, as did Moghedien. And Elan…well, he didn't lust for anyone nowadays, but he used to prefer men to women.

"I'm not sure I like that comparison," Taim noted.

"All I'm saying is, we shouldn't care what anyone thinks. And I shouldn't have lied to you. It put too much credit to Toveine's hateful beliefs." He put a hand on Taim's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Taim sighed. "That's a start." Then he added: "Just get under the covers. I'm too tired to be mad at you. I need to sleep."

Natael was happy to comply. He snuffed out the saidin-woven light, lifted the covers, lay down behind Taim and held him close. Before a minute had gone by, Taim's breathing had slowed and he started snoring lightly, as he always did. Natael wasn't tired – or rather he was, but his mind was too encumbered to shut down.

The discussion they were supposed to have regarding their future together had been curt short, in light of recent events, but Taim would want to have a serious talk the next day, certainly. He said he was too tired to be angry, but what would happen when he awakened fully rested? Would his anger be renewed, perhaps stronger than before? Would Natael have to apologise again? He would if he had to. He would do anything to give this – whatever it was – a chance to work out. Toveine's behaviour had made him realise just how much he was willing to do for Taim. He would have killed her, had it come to that. He still might. Now that he was stuck with her indefinitely, he might indeed.

Why did Demandred insist that she remain bonded to Natael? Why did it matter? Was it merely a casual form of torture, designed for both Toveine and himself?

And how long had Demandred been in the room, before he revealed himself? Did he spy on their meetings every evening? Did he spy on…other things? Surely he had more important matters to attend to but, regardless, they would have to be even more cautious from now on.

The door opened. Natael looked up, frowning, but it was too dark to see anything. Who dared…?! Then he chided himself. A servant, most likely, here to clean the hearth or pick up Taim's dirty laundry. They should have knocked, at least, regardless of the hour, but Natael let it go. It didn't matter. They had not interrupted anything important.

"Wake up," someone murmured.

Not a servant after all; Natael recognised Atal's voice. He let go of Taim and shifted in the bed. "What are you doing here?"

"I have a message from the Master."

Now that he was not one of the Chosen anymore, Natael realised just how ridiculous that sounded. "What now?" Demandred had already given them orders. What could he possibly want at this time of night?

"The Master just received confirmation that the Myrddraal will be here in a few days. You must be prepared to begin the Turning process as soon as they arrive. The Master will be here for a demonstration. The bonded Aes Sedai will be the first to be transcended."

Transcended? Did the lad even know what Turning was? Even if he didn't, he should be clued in by the presence of the Myrddraal. "A demonstration?" Natael repeated feebly. He knew exactly what Atal meant, but he had not expected this to happen so soon. Demandred was ahead of schedule. Perhaps on purpose.

"The Master wishes to witness the transformation of a few witches," Atal clarified unnecessarily. "After they've been Turned, they will assist us in the process of Turning the lowlier men."

"Um…very well." What else could he possibly say? No, thank you? At the very least, it would make Atal go away. Him being here in Taim's room was extremely awkward.

Atal made no sign of leaving. "I can't believe you lured M'Hael into your bed." Technically, it was Taim's bed, but Natael had done the luring, alright. "The madness must have taken hold of his senses. I wonder how he'll react, when you inevitably push him away and break his heart."

"I'm not going to-"

"Does he know what a selfish bastard you are? Does he understand that you'll leave him as soon as you sniff out a better opportunity?"

"I won't-"

"You may tell yourself that you won't. We lie best when we lie to ourselves, don't we? But when things really go tits-up, you'll be out of here before anyone can say 'coward'."

Natael figured out the meaning of "tits-up" from context, though he'd never heard that colourful idiom before. "If I wanted to leave, I would have done so already," he growled.

He couldn't see Atal, but he could almost hear him sneer. "We'll see. I've already placed my bets… Nighty-night, lover."

He exited the room without a sound, leaving Natael to consider the best way to murder him. And the consequences of such an act. How cross would Demandred be? What punishment was Natael willing to suffer for the pleasure of wringing the neck of that weaselly-

"I do know that you're a selfish bastard," Taim said in a sleepy voice. "I know what I'm getting myself into."

Natael turned his head. He hadn't realised that he was awake. "Did you hear everything he said?"

"Mm-mm. Talk about it in the morning. Sleep now." Natael closed his eyes. There was silence for a moment, but silence meant that Taim was still awake. "Move closer, I'm cold."

Once again, Natael was happy to oblige. This time, he fell asleep before Taim began to snore.

XXX

"Well, it makes sense," Logain said the next evening. "Demandred couldn't have said that in front of Toveine. She would have panicked."

Natael wished that the meeting was over, though it had only just started. He really wanted to talk to Taim alone. There had not been an opportunity that day, and their morning had been rudely interrupted by a recruit gone mad. It was barely dawn when Natael had stumbled out of bed to fetch a vial of asping rot poison. Taim and Logain had dealt with everything else: coordinating efforts to put out fires, Healing the few injured, comforting the madman's loved ones – a wife and three young daughters. Thankfully, Logain was good at that sort of things, because it was not Taim's cup of tea.

"Couldn't he? He had no problem showing up in the middle of our meeting and revealing my identity."

"Perhaps Demandred believed that she knew already," Taim said with feigned casualness. He pretended to examine his nails.

Yeah, he was still angry about Natael's lie, apparently. "Mmph."

"Whatever his reasons," Logain said, without a care for the sudden tension in the room, "the moment we've been dreading is upon us, sooner than anticipated. We're pressed for time. We need to devise a plan tonight."

Natael scanned the room reflexively before speaking. They'd checked it for intruders, it was fully illuminated and there were Power-woven wards in place, but one could never be too careful. "We have to warn al'Thor," he said. "It's our only chance. We could attempt to ambush Demandred, the day of the…demonstration, but it's risky. Too risky, if you ask me. And even if we succeeded, we'd have Moridin to deal with, afterwards. If we somehow manage to kill Demandred, the Great Lord shall be very cross."

"And we'd reveal ourselves as enemies of the Shadow," Logain added. "And Taim and I would be acting against our oaths. It might kill us."

"We're likely to die either way," Natael said fatalistically.

Taim didn't look quite as concerned as Natael felt. "Now does seem like a good time to involve al'Thor. But we must remain discreet about it. We'll have to take a gamble whatever we do, so let me suggest this: Logain will leave the Tower, and-"

Logain stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"

Natael was surprised, too, but mainly because Taim had called him Logain. He'd never done that before.

"Let me finish," Taim commanded. "You leave the Tower with half of the Asha'man and all of the Aes Sedai. The men will have to bond two instead of one, but that's a necessary burden."

"I don't see where you're going with this," Logain said. "It makes no sense. Demandred is bound to-"

Taim gestured for him to be silent. "We'll fake a rivalry between us. Between you and I," he clarified. "Thanks to his own experience, Demandred will not question it. Why, anyone would expect it. We're both immensely powerful, former False Dragons, now rival Dreadlords…and prideful. It irks you that you're not our equal, but the men have taken a liking to you and see you as a leader. Your arrival has disrupted our ranks and divided the loyalty of the men."

Was he building on his story, or merely listing facts? Natael wasn't sure. Some of the men did seem to consider Logain the third – and unofficial – leader of the Black Tower. Because he'd been Healed after being gentled, many recruits sort of…worshipped him, for no good reason – if they should worship anyone, it ought to be the woman responsible for the Healing. Or did they admire him because he'd escaped the Aes Sedai? Either way, despite their devotion for Logain, the men still respected M'Hael. Their loyalty wasn't divided. It went to both of them.

"A plausible lie," Logain said. "But you saw right through ours, last night; what makes you think Demandred will be so ready to believe this? Especially given how convenient it is that the Aes Sedai will be safely out of reach right after he ordered us to Turn them."

"But that's the beauty of it: you left precisely because of that," Taim said with the hint of a smug smile. "We argued about it after we relayed Atal's message and you decided to leave with the witches… Not to save them, but because you want to keep them to yourself. For your own army. Perhaps you still believe yourself to be the true Dragon Reborn… Or you want to make your mark as an independent Dreadlord, in the hope of becoming one of the Forsaken. It's up to you."

"Good thinking, especially that last option. With that many women, you could form a rather large circle," Natael mused. "It is something any powerful and ambitious Dreadlord would-"

He stopped talking when he realised that the other two were giving him their "huh?" faces. "You don't know what a circle is, do you?"

"Nope," Logain replied. Unlike Taim, he had no trouble displaying the extent of his ignorance.

"Perhaps we do, but under another name," Taim said. Unlike Logain, he refused to acknowledge the fact that he didn't know everything better than everyone else.

How adorable. "A link?" Natael supplied. Logain shook his head. Taim didn't commit to a response, but his lips tightened, betraying his frustration. "Women can link together to form a circle. Thus linked, they can channel with more strength, though it has several limitations. Only one of the women can weave. Up to thirteen women can form a circle, but if you add male channelers to it, it can grow and become even stronger. With the right proportion of female and male channelers, one can form what we call a full circle."

Logain's eyes shone with interest. "How many-"

But Natael had anticipated the question. "Seventy-two. But it requires more women than men. Fifty wouldn't be enough, I think. I don't remember exactly."

"Did it never occur to you to tell us that it was possible to do such a thing?" Taim demanded.

"I honestly thought you knew!" he protested. You ignoramuses, he wanted to add. He didn't dare risk angering Taim further, though. "Since we didn't have any female channelers at our disposal until recently, the subject never came up. Men alone cannot link."

"That's hardly fair," Logain grumbled.

"I don't make the rules."

"That's all well and good, but we're digressing," Taim said. "Let's say that Logain wants the Aes Sedai all to himself so he can form his own private army and perhaps generate a full circle." Logain and Natael nodded. "You will leave the Tower, find al'Thor, explain precisely what's going on here and request his assistance to rid us of the Forsaken. Of Demandred, at least. The women will be safe, some of our men, too and, more importantly, so will you." Natael frowned at that. "At least one of us ought to be alive for the Last Battle," Taim clarified. "I doubt that Demandred will waste time and resources to find Logain when he has us at his disposal."

"He might kill us as punishment for letting Logain go, though," Natael pointed out.

"I doubt he will kill either of us, not now. He needs us. He cannot manage whatever land he's infiltrated and the Black Tower at the same time."

Wrong, Natael thought. He needs someone to be in charge here, but it doesn't have to be us. It could be Atal. It could be any Dreadlord.

Logain leaned forward. "You're being unrealistically optimistic, but be that as it may. How do you explain that I bonded the other half of the Aes Sedai?"

A very good question. Natael turned to Taim for the solution.

"You…staged a coup…" Taim said slowly. Oh, pity. He had not thought of everything. How disappointing. "You threatened to kill…our men's loved ones if they didn't surrender their Aes Sedai to your men." He allowed himself a smug half-smile for coming up with that on the cuff.

"And when Demandred questions his multiple minions and realises that there was no coup?"

"We could stage a mock coup," he retorted, the smile dying on his lips. Taim never welcomed criticism, even if it was constructive. "We'd warn everyone of what's coming and plan it so that there are no casualties."

"You'd have to warn the entire Tower, Taim," Logain said. "Including Demandred's people."

"Not necessarily-"

"Yes, necessarily," Natael said. "Otherwise any young recruit who witnesses the scene would play the hero and attempt to stop Logain and his men. There are bound to be casualties. And if we warn everyone, Demandred will know what we're planning. And everyone will know about the Aes Sedai. It just won't work."

"Half of the Aes Sedai must remain here, if Demandred is to believe your story," Logain said. "I will leave in the dead of night with twenty-five men and their bondmates. We'll incapacitate the guards and anyone who questions us on the way out, if necessary. That will give our story some substance."

"But what about the remaining Aes Sedai?" Taim insisted. "There has to be a way to protect them…"

How strange to hear Taim say that. He despised the witches but, not unlike al'Thor, he was overly protective of women in general. "They can swear the oath," Natael said. "Like Logain did. Like you did. At least they won't be Turned. I still think we can reverse it, eventually." He eyed Logain when he said that, but the man ignored him.

"It's the best we can do on such short notice," Logain concurred. "But will they agree to it?"

Natael was tired of saying this, but it was still an accurate statement. "They don't have a choice." Well, technically, they did, but surely they were intelligent enough to understand which option was best for them. Which option would keep them alive until they could return to the Light.

"More importantly," Taim said, "will Demandred agree to this?"

"Why wouldn't he? A Dreadlord or Black Ajah sister is better than a mindless puppet."

Taim regarded him, his dark eyes boring into his very soul and exposing the darkness within. "If you say so… I suppose you would know."

"I've never Turned anyone!" It was true...but he'd done some equally horrifying things, so it was best not to pursue this argument.

Taim had the same thought. He turned to Logain. "That leaves one small issue."

"What's that?"

"Demandred might not believe our story for one very specific reason. Because of Atal, he knows how often we meet, and the lad has never seen us argue. No one has. We've had disagreements, of course, but never in public."

"You want us to simulate arguments out in the streets?" Logain asked, a somewhat bewildered expression on his handsome face.

"And perhaps a physical fight," Taim added. "Nothing wild, just…some pushing around, a few harmless punches…" His eyes were oddly bright when he spoke, and Natael could have sworn that he was resisting the urge to smile. "On the day before you leave."

Incongruous as it sounded, it was actually a good idea. Not everyone would witness the scene, but the entire Black Tower would hear of it before sunset. And, as Taim had pointed out earlier, people expected them to be rivals. Frankly, he was astounded that they were civil around each other most of the time.

Logain scratched his beard. "Well...if you insist." He grinned then, and Taim finally allowed himself to smirk.

Natael had no idea if they were friends or if their supposedly made-up rivalry was real and concealed under layers of decorum out of sheer necessity. Either way, he hoped they wouldn't end up like Lews Therin and Demandred, because that was how their ugly rivalry had started. An unlikely friendship between two very different people, an amicable sense of competition…and then obsessive jealousy, full-blown hatred and a surprise volte-face which had prolonged the War of Power and thus affected all of mankind. Which still affected mankind to this day, in fact.

A few minutes later, they wrapped up the meeting and Logain bid them good night. Natael lingered in Taim's study, nursing his wine, while Taim wrote today's report. Would he want to talk now? Was he too tired? Would he refuse to talk altogether? Had he given up on Natael?

Whoa, easy there. Let's not jump to conclusions. "Um, Taim... When you're done with this, can we talk about-"

"It's simple enough, Nate," Taim said without looking up. Natael moved closer. "I'm willing to give this – to give us – a trial run. No public displays. No mention of it to anyone else. Ablar will be gone soon enough, anyway." There was an unmistakable trace of satisfaction in his voice and Natael noticed that he was back to calling him Ablar. "You have to take this seriously. No more joking around. And quit ogling the recruits."

"I don't-"

Taim finally turned his head toward him. "You do. Atal, Narishma, even Ablar…it has to stop. It's immature and vulgar, for one thing, and for another I don't like it."

Natael had a hard time keeping a straight face, though it was a sensible argument, he supposed. "Fine. No ogling." No ogling men, anyway. Taim hadn't said anything about women.

You idiot. He's right to call you immature. You have to take this seriously, otherwise you'll lose him.

"You will keep on calling me Taim or M'Hael," he went on. "No ridiculous pet names."

He shouldn't have said that. It had never even occurred Natael that he could use a pet name for Taim, but now that was all he could think about. "What about Mazrim?"

"No one calls me that," Taim snapped. "And you won't, either. Ever."

"Fair enough." It felt weird, anyway. He would have to think of something else – once the trial run was over, of course.

Taim took a deep breath and continued in a lower voice. "You may sleep with me…but you won't be living here. Keep your clothes and frivolous belongings in your own room. And stay there during the day, if you have nowhere else to be. I need my space."

Also fair. Natael liked to have his own space, too. "Can we sleep together every night?"

He was rewarded by a nice blush, as he'd expected. His answer was a barely-audible "yes".

"Well, it's dark outside, so this qualifies as the night, right?" he said with a grin.

"I have to finish my report," Taim muttered. He returned to his paper.

"You've set several conditions for this trial run, but may I set a few of my own?"

Taim let his quill drop with a sigh. "I suppose."

"From now on, I will write the daily reports, even though nobody reads them. You need more sleep than I do – why, I slept for three thousand years, didn't I?"

Taim arched an eyebrow. "You'll write a report tomorrow and I'll decide if it's adequate, before I agree to this."

"I'm not a child, Taim. I know how to write a bloody report. I've written plenty, in my time."

"Fine, fine. What else?"

"Instead of giving me the silent treatment for hours or days, you will let me know when I've done something wrong and we will discuss it right away. You want honesty, and so do I, but to be honest with each other, we need to communicate. Don't let these things fester. That's how one becomes Forsaken."

Chosen, blimey. Then again, does it really matter? It's just a word.

Taim welcomed that remark with a ghostly smile. "I'll let you know everything you're doing wrong, fear not."

Mm. That didn't bode well. But it was better to be criticised until you learned than to keep screwing up until everything blew up in your face without warning. "Please do. Anything you'd like to tell me now?" Might as well get this out of the way.

"I need to know that you will stand by me. Whatever happens."

He'd expected Taim to list his minor failings and explain how to correct them, but this was on a different level. Taim needed reassurance. He needed to know that, trial run or not, Natael was committing to the relationship. Taim wanted what Elan had never given Natael. He did not realise it, but it was also a risk for Natael to invest himself in this relationship. He'd been hurt before, and he didn't wish to repeat the experience.

Whatever happens. That was a difficult promise to make indeed. Whatever included of lot of potential disasters, given the current state of things.

He settled for an answer that, he knew, wouldn't satisfy Taim. In fact, he regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth. "I'll try."

It might have been better to say nothing at all.

He couldn't quite read Taim's face, for once. Was he disappointed? Resigned? "I said I knew what I was getting myself into," he said softly, "but I may have spoken too soon."

"I meant-"

Taim cut him off. "Doesn't matter. I know I'll regret it if I don't give this relationship a try, and I'll probably regret giving it a try, too, so, either way…" He shrugged and returned to his report, dipping the quill in the inkpot. "Either way, I foresee regret in my future. I'm tired of being lonely, though, so the trial run makes more sense." He wrote down a few words. Incident in the early morning: Soldier gone mad. Subject had to be neutralised and disposed of. Casualties: one. "Go to bed. I'll join you in a moment."

Natael considered a firmer reply to Taim's question, but it was too late. Taim wouldn't buy it.

He had been granted a trial run, but he may have already doomed their relationship.

No. That's the coward's way out, to admit defeat without putting up a fight. You know what to say to make him understand, even if you don't like it. Honesty is key, remember?

"Before you finish that report," and before I lose my nerve, "I need to tell you something." He was the one who had insisted on better communication, after all. Taim groaned in annoyance, but he abandoned the quill again. "I need to explain why I'm…reluctant to make promises or to fully commit to you." He downed his wine, but that wouldn't be enough, not for this story. He poured himself another cup, then poured one for Taim. He would need it, too. "I need to tell you about Elan."