AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys, I realised last week that I had not yet posted my Elan/Joar backstory on FFnet, but it's up now, if you want to check it out. It's called "Scratch your name into the fabric of this world". Thanks for reading! Stay safe.

"So…Elan Morin Tedronai."

Natael nodded. Taim had not touched his wine yet, but the night was young.

"Ishamael…and you. Together."

Perhaps he ought to feel desperate that Taim was having trouble digesting the news or forming full sentences, but all he felt was relief. The cat was out of the bag, as they said in this Age. Whatever else Taim learned about his past, it couldn't be any worse than this. After all, he already knew about all the maiming and the tragic…incident involving Natael's mother.

"Ishamael…who is now Moridin. The Nae'blis."

Still processing. Natael waited in silence, taking an occasional sip from his cup. He had not needed as much wine as he'd feared…but the night was young.

"I'm sorry," Taim murmured. "I'm glad that you told me, but it's…"

"…a lot to take in. Yes, I know. You're handling it better than I anticipated, to tell you the truth." He hesitated for a moment, then threw caution to the wind and took Taim's free hand in his. Taim didn't recoil at his touch. "If I'd listened to my old self, I would have taken this confidence to the grave, but you deserve to know. When you really think about it, you know very little of my past – except for the obvious Shadow-related facts." He didn't even know about Natael's many accomplishments and awards as a musician, but that was a conversation for another day. "It seems that no one bothered to write my biography after the Breaking, and I was too young to write one myself before everything went pear-shaped." Lews Therin, Elan and Barid Bel, among others, had authored an autobiography, but they were at least a century older than he was. Accomplished channelers commonly wrote about themselves when they were middle-aged, not before.

"You're right. The fact that you're Asmodean, the infamous Forsaken, tends to eclipse everything else. I never gave a thought about what your personal life was like before the Collapse. You could have been married a dozen times and have a hundred children-"

Natael chuckled. "No, don't worry, I don't carry that much baggage. I never wanted children and, before I met Elan, I didn't think I could ever commit to one person for too long. My record before him was four months."

"Four months," Taim mused. "That's about how long we've known each other."

"Right. And I'm still here!"

At last, Taim smiled.

"Anyway. All you had to judge me by until now was my fling with Atal, which, as we all know, was a horrible, horrible mistake. I just wanted you to better understand my…reluctance, earlier, when you asked-"

"No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have pressured you. I suggested a trial run, and then immediately demanded a steadfast commitment. It was inappropriate. We should take things more slowly."

"No, we shouldn't. On the contrary." Taim scowled. "We could be dead in a week." If they were lucky. More likely, it would be in a few days, when Demandred returned with thirteen Myrddraal. "We don't have time to take things slowly. I will do whatever I can to make you trust me, to deserve you, not to disappoint you. I want to be worthy of you. I may only have days to succeed, but I will do my best." He had no idea where the words came from. He'd never made such a speech before, but he was taking his own advice: don't think too much and say what's on your mind. He may never have another chance to do so. "I will not leave you. This time I'm in for the long run…however long that may be. I will be with you until the bitter end." It would be bitter but, together, perhaps they could make it bittersweet, at least.

Taim was struggling to form a semblance of response. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Instead of speaking, he drank some wine. Some, then all of it. "I've been rehearsing this conversation in my head all day, repeating to myself what I needed you to know and what I wanted to hear before I could make a decision. I wasn't convinced before…" He'd made that clear, what with that talk of impending regret. "But this…this is what I didn't know I needed to hear. If that makes sense."

Natael squeezed his hand. "As much sense as a madman can make."

"Toveine, I know how you feel about us, but you have to get over it. Your life is at stake, and that of your sisters. We need to-"

"My sisters despise me. They believe I'm responsible for this…catastrophic development."

Well, to be fair, she was. The leader of an army was always considered responsible when something went wrong. She'd led them to capture. She was following orders, true, but she had failed to reconnoitre the enemy base, which was really the basics of warfare. If she'd known just how many men were being trained at the Black Tower, and how capable they were, she would have turned around. Anyone in their right mind would have. She'd made the arrogant mistake of underestimating the enemy and stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the possibility that she may be wrong about it.

"Is there perhaps another among you whom they consider a leader?" Taim asked. Until then, he'd ignored Toveine. He was seated on the windowsill and looking down on a group of Soldiers practicing the old boulder-exploding trick under Logain's watchful eyes. "Did you nominate a second-in-command?"

Toveine flinched when he spoke, but she didn't glance at him. In fact, she was doing her best to pretend that neither of them were here. When she divulged information she was reluctant to pass along, she mumbled almost unintelligibly, perhaps in the hope that they wouldn't understand her. "Gabrelle was supposed to take over if something happened to me."

Ah, yes, Gabrelle, the unassuming Brown who was sleeping with the enemy. She was as much of a pariah as Toveine herself.

"That won't do," Taim said. "Is there a woman that they might look up to, perhaps someone with more experience or older than the rest?"

This time it wasn't mere reluctance. She was fiddling with her Great Serpent ring. There was something she wasn't telling them. "Were you really in charge, Toveine?" Natael demanded.

"Yes, I was!" She sounded defensive. "Elaida gave me command of our party."

Ugh, he was going to have to ask exactly the right question. "Was anyone bothered by this? Someone who should be…above you?"

Her lips tightened, as if it would prevent the words from escaping her mouth. "I'm not the most powerful channeler among them."

If Natael had not been standing next to her, he might not have heard her. Indeed, Taim left the windowsill to stand closer to them. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Is this how Aes Sedai determine their hierarchy? By their strength in the Power?" That was idiotic, but Natael had come to expect the worst of this Age. Toveine made no reply. "Answer me. And speak up, for pity's sake."

"Yes," she said. "Yes, that is how." She glared at the floor as if it were its fault that she'd been forced to reveal this secret.

Natael and Taim exchanged a look. It was so arbitrary… Of course, the two of them were strongest among their recruits, but that was irrelevant; al'Thor had not designated them because of that.

"Then it's fair to assume that the most powerful sister in your group resented Elaida's decision to put you in charge of the expedition from the beginning," Taim said.

Toveine nodded. "Oh, come on, just give us her name!" Natael exhorted her. "Time is not on our side."

"Lemai is stronger than I am…"

Lemai Ambani, who was bonded to Hardlin, if Natael's memory served. Another Red. No wonder she resented Toveine being in charge.

"There's another one, isn't there?" Taim asked softly. Natael gave him a quizzical look. He wasn't bonded to the woman, but he could read her better than Natael could.

Toveine sighed. "Desandre. She is considered slightly superior to Lemai, but only because she completed her training earlier. Their strength in the Power is roughly equivalent."

Desandre Alraed…a Yellow, Natael thought. She was bonded to Einar.

"There's something else she's not telling us," Taim murmured. He circled around the Aes Sedai, hands behind his back. "Are they planning something? A coup?"

Toveine shook her head, but that wasn't enough. "Answer with words," Natael ordered her.

"There will be no coup anytime soon," she said. "It would be futile." Natael didn't see how they could even try – they weren't allowed to channel unless their bondmate gave them permission, and even if they could, the men would be forewarned by the bond.

Toveine finally gave in under their stares. "But Gabrelle encouraged everyone to stay united and to let Desandre and Lemai take charge. They instructed the sisters to be civil to their bondmates, until they were eventually led to believe that the Aes Sedai were subdued and could be granted some modicum of freedom." She sniffed. "Gabrelle took that recommendation a bit too far, if you ask me."

"Nope, no one asked you," Natael said.

Taim ignored that last part. "Right, so they're scheming to attempt something in the future, after they've lulled their bondmates into trusting them, but we'd figured that out already, thanks to Gabrelle," Taim noted. "I mean, Logain is attractive, but she moved into his bed too fast. She isn't fooling anyone, though Logain appreciates her efforts, no doubt about it."

"Well then. We need to talk to Desandre and Lemai," Natael said. Toveine had no influence at all on her sisters. She was completely useless to them, in truth, whether she served the Light or the Shadow. Demandred had to know that. So why had he insisted on keeping her bonded to Natael? More and more, he thought it was a form of torture, of punishment.

"What is going to happen to me?" Toveine questioned them.

Taim shrugged. He didn't care one way or another; he'd told Natael last night. If not for Demandred's orders, she would probably be dead by now. "I'll go gather the real leaders of the Aes Sedai. Join me in my study in half an hour?"

Natael nodded. "I'll be there, my love."

Silence fell in the room. Taim, who had been heading for the door, turned to gawk at him, his cheeks reddening.

Um…what did I just say? BLOOD AND ASHES, WHAT DID I JUST SAY?

Taim seemed to be wondering the same thing. His eyebrows were trying to climb into his hair.

Even in their most intimate moments, Natael had never called him that. It had come out of nowhere, just like his short-but-intense speech the previous evening. He must be going mad. It was not that he didn't mean it, but the timing was…unfortunate, what with Toveine being there.

He could feel her emotions through the bond, but he chose not to acknowledge them. Let her choke on her revulsion.

The silence grew oppressive. Should he say something? But what? Sorry? He was only sorry that Toveine had witnessed the scene. In other circumstances, this lapse may have been considered romantic, or at the very least adorably awkward.

After another few seconds, which felt like several hours, Taim cleared his throat. "Er, yes, good. Half an hour. I'm going now," he announced unnecessarily. He practically ran for the door.

Toveine's eyes followed Taim on his way out, then she turned to Natael again. Whatever she thought of what had happened, it had been replaced by a throbbing urgency that Natael could sense within the bond. "You cannot dispose of me," she stammered. "Dem… The other Forsaken said so. And you have to obey him, do you not? For some reason, he is above you, just like Lemai is above me."

She still believed that Natael was one of the Forsaken. Then again, they had not refuted that belief. "In a few days, your fate will be decided."

"What happens in a few days?"

"Demandred will return." He didn't tell her why. First, they had to make plans with Logain and the Aes Sedai. Then they'd decide if Toveine ought to be included…or if she would become an inevitable sacrifice in their ploy to save the others.

"Toveine has explained to us how Aes Sedai work out their hierarchy. Apparently, the two of you are the most powerful of your party and the weaker channelers listen to you. Is that correct?"

Taim was seated at his desk and facing Desandre and Lemai. Since this was Taim's study and all the chairs were occupied, Natael had the windowsill and Logain was leaning against the wall behind the desk, arms crossed over his chest. Desandre and Lemai's bondmates were waiting outside the room.

"It is correct, Master Taim," Desandre confirmed, her face expressionless. She had Logain's Ghealdanin accent, Natael noted. He wondered what she thought of the man – a False Dragon, a reborn channeler, Gabrelle's bondmate and bedmate. Toveine loathed Taim and didn't try to conceal it, but Desandre had barely spared Logain a glance.

What did the White Tower Aes Sedai make of Logain? Had they heard that he'd been Healed? At least a few of them must have known him, while he was their captive in Tar Valon. They knew he'd been properly gentled. They may even have participated in the gentling.

It wasn't relevant to the present matter, but Natael was curious. Perhaps he'd enquire another time.

"When we captured you, we assured you that we would do our best to keep you comfortable, and we swore that no harm would come to you," Taim went on.

Desandre nodded. "And you have been true to your word, thus far." Lemai had yet to utter a single sound or make the tiniest gesture. She sat so still that she could have been a statue. Did she even blink?

"Well, it's about to change."

Finally, a sign of life: Lemai arched an eyebrow. She didn't say anything, though. That was Desandre's job. "I assume that you intend to elaborate." Even following Taim's ominous statement, her face betrayed no emotion. Natael wondered if Einar felt something through the bond.

"We genuinely mean you no harm," Taim explained. "We took you captive and bonded you because we were following orders." That first sentence was a bald-faced lie. Had it been his decision, Taim would have annihilated their party and shown little remorse afterwards, knowing that they had similar intentions regarding the Black Tower.

"The Dragon Reborn ordered you to bond us?" Desandre asked. "That is, provided that you take your orders from him…"

There might be no need for a long-winded explanation, Natael realised. She seemed to have guessed that al'Thor had little influence over the Black Tower. Well, it was hardly a secret.

"That particular directive came from the Forsaken Demandred," Taim said.

Blood and ashes, they were good Aes Sedai. Lemai briefly touched her Great Serpent ring, but Desandre's face was a mask. Elaida should have put these two in charge from the start.

"Are we to deduce that the Black Tower is under the control of the Shadow?" the Yellow said.

Taim didn't hesitate. "The Shadow certainly thinks it is."

"A bold statement," Desandre noted. Natael silently agreed. "Are you not a Dreadlord?"

"Technically, yes," Taim conceded, "Logain and I are Dreadlords."

Desandre politely indicated Natael. "What about him?"

"Ghraem is not a Dreadlord," Taim said. He didn't expound on the matter. "We decided to become Dreadlords of our own free will because it was preferable to the alternative," he continued.

"Death?"

"Turning."

Ah, that did provoke some reaction, which gave them a semblance of humanity. Desandre's brown eyes widened in horror and Lemai once again touched her ring, muttering under her breath, eyes closed.

"Although that is essentially the same thing," Taim said. "Anyway, I'm afraid that you will soon be faced with the same choice…which is not a real choice, as I'm sure you understand."

Desandre remained silent. Lemai's eyes were still closed, her head slightly bowed, as if she were praying.

"Some of you will have to become Black Ajah in order to survive," Taim said. "There is no other way."

"Some of us?" Desandre repeated. She didn't sound so calm now, and she'd paled visibly.

"The rest will be leaving with me," Logain announced. "Half of you will be spared the Oath Rod, but the ones who stay here must willingly turn to the Shadow…to avoid being Turned to the Shadow."

Aw, he was using their infallible argument! Perhaps he finally saw the sense in it.

"Why can't we all leave with you?"

Logain quickly resumed the situation, and why it was important that Demandred believed he'd left the Tower for all the wrong reasons. Trusting Lemai and Desandre to be unaffiliated to the Shadow in any way was a risk, but they had no choice. "Believe me, picking out the men who will follow me has been a quandary. At least you won't have to make that choice."

The Aes Sedai looked at each other. Eventually, Lemai nodded and Desandre returned her attention to Logain. Did they communicate via telepathy? Women sometimes seemed to be able to do that. "Are we part of the-"

"We thought it best to separate you," Logain explained, "so that each group of women will have a leader. Lemai, you will be leaving with me. Desandre, you'll be in charge of the soon-to-be Black Ajah sisters."

Silence followed that statement.

"I choose death," Desandre whispered after a moment. Her eyes shone with intensity. "Death on my own terms."

Natael chuckled uneasily. "Now, now, don't be so dramatic. The good news is that the oath you will swear to Demandred is reversible. As soon as we can obtain a Binding Rod, you will be released-"

"And when will that be, Ghraem?"

"Well, we don't know yet, but with you on our side, it may be easier than we thought. There's one at the White Tower, is there not?" No one replied, so he forged ahead. "You could borrow it somehow, and then-"

"Elaida will not allow us to return to the Tower," Desandre said harshly. "Not after we've been captured. We're tainted now."

"That's ridiculous," Taim barked. "The taint is not contagious, burn you!"

"I meant that no one will trust us, you fool, not after we've spent so much time here, and especially if they find out that we've been bonded. Elaida will have us stilled and executed for our failure, if we ever set foot on Tower ground again."

That was a good point. By all accounts, Elaida was not entirely sane herself. "Regardless, there are other Binding Rods out there..."

"And while you search for one, likely in vain, what will happen?" Desandre insisted.

Natael frowned. "What do you mean?"

"We know of this process you name Turning, Ghraem. We know that you require women to Turn men, and vice versa."

"'Require' is a strong word," he muttered. "It can be accomplished with any thirteen channelers."

"But it renders the process easier, does it not?" He nodded reluctantly. "And is it not logical and rational to suspect that you will make use of us to that end? To assume that Demandred will ultimately demand that you Turn every unwilling Black Tower recruit to the Shadow before the Last Battle?"

What was she, a bloody White? "That's the idea. But we won't allow it!"

"How will you prevent it?" she countered. "Some men will refuse to take the oath, no matter what you say. What will you do with them? Send them away, like Logain? Will this trick work more than once, do you think?"

It wouldn't. They'd be lucky if Demandred bought it this one time.

"I choose death," Desandre repeated. "I'm a Yellow, Ghraem. It is my Light-given mission in this life to Heal people, not to poison their souls."

"Why don't you fight him?" Lemai looked up at all three men in turn.

Well, well. Look who was talking now.

"Him…Demandred?" Logain asked.

Lemai nodded. "You have fifty loyal Asha'man at your disposal," she said, "and fifty of us. We may not be loyal to you by choice, and I disapprove of your methods, whatever your true intentions, but, ultimately, we do serve the Light, all of us. Against those odds, even one of the Forsaken doesn't stand a chance, I should think."

"Yes, we've considered that possibility," Taim said, "but Demandred is only one of them, and he answers to his own leader, the Nae'blis, who is none else but Ishamael reborn." That brought on its own set of minuscule but very human-like reactions.

"We could kill Demandred," Natael said, "but we would incur the wrath of the Dark One himself. He'd send every remaining Forsaken against us, and our punishment wouldn't be plain old death. It would be much worse than that. Semirhage is still alive, according to our latest reports."

"And," Logain added, "apparently the Dark One can bring back dead people now. Demandred's death would be but a temporary respite."

Well, they could balefire him…but balefire was dangerous. Even the Chosen were reluctant to use it.

Lemai had more arguments, though. "You have hundreds of channelers here. You have fifty Aes Sedai who can link. The Dragon Reborn himself is supposedly on your side. We can withstand anything, if we're united. Besides, why would the Shadow waste pawns to destroy us, when the Last Battle is coming? Surely, when this...Nae'blis realises that the entire Black Tower has rebelled against the Shadow, he'll admit defeat and move on."

"She does have a point," Logain remarked. "All of our Asha'man are already aware of the situation. Once the Aes Sedai are in the know, we could team up and get rid of Demandred once and for all. And we'll do Moridin in if he shows up."

"Sure, and why not take the fight directly to Shayol Ghul, while you're at it? Feel like taking on the Great Lord with your bare fists?" Natael said with a smirk. Had Logain gone mad? That was not the plan!

"You're one of them, aren't you?" Desandre asked quietly. "You're a Forsaken."

Natael blinked at the unexpected question. "What? No, I'm… Why would you think that?"

"You're the only person I've ever encountered who calls him the Great Lord," Desandre pointed out. "We servants of the Light prefer the term 'Dark One'."

Darkness within! He'd slipped again. "Alright, fine. I used to be one of them."

"Asmodean," Desandre said. It wasn't a question. Well, by process of elimination, it was easy to determine his identity.

"Yes, but now I'm really just Ghraem. I haven't even-" Taken the oath, he was about to say. But it was best to keep that information to himself.

"This is neither here nor there," Taim interrupted. "We should discuss the pros and cons of Lemai's suggestion."

Natael stared at him in shock. He was willing to consider this? "You can't be serious!"

Taim slowly massaged his temples. "Aren't you tired of pretending? Demandred is always three steps ahead of us, but I doubt he'll see this coming. The idea has merit, mainly thanks to the element of surprise from which we can benefit."

"He always comes alone," Logain said. "I wouldn't dare underestimate him, even with such overwhelming odds in our favour, but you have to admit that it's…feasible."

"Of course it is feasible," Natael snapped. "That's not the issue! The consequences-"

"We'll deal with the consequences," Taim said quietly. "Why, we've dealt with the consequences of every stupid decision we've made so far, haven't we? If nothing else, we know how to improvise."

"This is pure madness," Natael murmured.

Logain chuckled. "Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, mm? Come on, Nate, don't be such a killjoy. Let us all be mad together."

Taim smiled as his eyes sought Natael's. "Yes, my love. Let's."

How could he say no to that?