A/N- I'm moving quickly here. I want Rand to really move about, let his ta'raven effects work for him
Two Years Later
Rand tugged at his collar stiffly, glancing into the mirror on the other side of large room. His clothes were made for nobles, with red and white colours merging on his shirt and black pants, his sword scabbard clipped on at the belt. His main problem was the flowing black cloak that bore the symbol of the golden lily, the sign of Elayne Trakand, daughter-heir of Andor. His arm bore a slight stiffness that could cause a minor pain, but did not hamper his skills as a swordsman. As he fidgeted with his collar once again, the door next to him opened.
Rand turned to see Elayne and Gawyn, Daughter-Heir and her brother, standing there regally. Elayne was now twelve, turning thirteen shortly and dressed with a dark blue velvet cloak with fur trimmed at the collar, covering a skirt with silver lining. A tiara was settled in a nest of hair and a necklace with a ruby in the centre was draped across her neck, while Gawyn was closer to Rand's age at fifteen and dressed just as regally.
"Ready Rand?" Elayne asked.
Rand bowed perfectly, having perfected the movement long ago. "You highness," He intoned. "I am ready to leave at your command."
Elayne scowled, her nose wrinkling, while Gawyn tried not to smile. "You needn't do that here, when we are alone."
"But Milady, General Gareth Byrne has instructed me in the fine ways of etiquette and respect one must show the Daughter-Heir." Rand said, his voice a little too innocent.
Elayne stamped her foot and threw her head up in the air, just as Rand cracked a smile and Gawyn snickered.
"I am ready to leave when you are, Elayne," He said, smiling lightly at her stony expression.
Elayne had a hard look on her face that faded away when Rand smiled. She internally sighed, absently smoothing down her skirt as Rand gazed upon her. It was not her fault that the damn of a boy had captured her heart, but as her heart fluttered just at the sight of him, she ignored it and turned to Gawyn.
"Shall we go, brother dearest?" She asked imperiously. She threw a mocking glance, her lips curled upwards. "I'm sure my bodyguard has much to protect me from. Who knows, a cat may attack me in the hallway!"
Gawyn bowed and offered her his arm, which she accepted while Rand chuckled softly, undisturbed by the barb. Together they strode from the room. Elayne led the way through the maze of halls, past doors and statues and portraits. She didn't have to look back to see Rand following two paces behind, his posture strong and his eyes flicking over everything.
At first, when she had suggested that he become her bodyguard, she hadn't thought that Gareth Byrne would take the notion to heart with vigour. But he had, and Rand had been summoned to him the next day for training. She didn't know what the training had detailed, but several weeks later, Rand had returned with a walk that would make a cat envious and eyes that never stopped moving. His manners had changed also, and in public he addressed her with the upmost respect. In private, he had attempted to do so but Elayne had threatened to send for Mistress Lini, her old Nanny, with a switch and he had hastily dropped the obedient servant manner. Sometimes, it was nice to talk to somebody who treated you as a friend first, and a daughter-heir second.
Rand trailed after Elayne, taking in the familiar halls that he had walked along so often. Three years ago, if somebody had suggested that he would once by a Royal bodyguard to the daughter-heir, he would have scoffed and privately wondered if they had been drinking too much ale. Elayne and Gawyn reached two large golden doors, ornate curves carved into the metal.
"Announce the Daughter-Heir and Lord Gawyn." Elayne commanded to the doorkeepers. She waited patiently as a voice that chimed like crystals called out Elayne and Gawyn with their titles and ceremonies. There was no mention of Rand, he was but a guard, and the doors swung open. Inside, musicians played harps and flutes, beautiful and lively melodies. Lords and Ladies dressed up in their finest danced to the tunes, or sat at the large tables blanketed with the best food Caemlyn had to offer. At the centre of the table sat Queen Morgase, three seats to her left sat Gareth Byrne and her right Elaida Sedai. Two empty chairs were waiting next between Gareth and Morgase
Elayne strode through the room, smaller than most of the Lords and Ladies she passed yet possessing an air of nobility that surpassed them. Lords and Ladies bowed and curtsied as she passed them, Gawyn by her side and Rand at her back. His eyes skimmed over everybody that came close to the pair.
"Everybody is a potential assassin, from the lowest servant to the highest noble.""Mother," Elayne greeted, curtsying low. Gawyn bowed while Rand offered her a military salute, thumping his chest and bowing his head slightly.
Morgase smiled, her red curls glistening in the candle light from the chandeliers. Her beauty was greater than most of the Ladies in the room, and she gestured to the seats next to her.
"Be seated." She commanded. Elayne and Gawyn stood straight and moved to their seats, sitting down with the grace of a noble. Rand offered the Queen another military salute and moved away from the table, away from the nobles and sitting at the table designated for the lower class folk, mainly the servants of the Lords and Ladies. He would have to keep an eye on Elayne, and be ready when she had to leave.
Some time later, Rand watched as Elayne approached the dancing couples with a young man with long brown hair and blue eyes. He tensed as he eyed the couple like a hawk, assessing the youth. He appeared to be of the age of eighteen, nineteen, and had the look of a Cairhien noble. He watched as the youth took Elayne's hand, bowing his head, and started his dance. He caught somebody waving to him from the corner of his eye and saw Gawyn surrounded by young Lords. Gawyn was gesturing to him so Rand stood, his plate unfinished, and walked over.
"Lord Gawyn." Rand said, bowing respectfully.
"This is the bodyguard you were boasting about?" A hard faced youth, maybe seventeen with dark eyes scoffed. "He is a boy?"
"Blademaster al'Thor is an exceptional swordsman." Gawyn said, carefully throwing in Rand's title.
The youth frowned. "He is too young to be a Blademaster. My cousin in Tear has been attempting that mastery of the sword for fourteen years, and he has yet to pass."
"Your cousin maybe lacks in skill, Bernine." Another youth said, with blonde hair, smirking slightly.
Bernine glowered, drawing himself up. "At least the blood of Illian whores does not run in my veins, Jarrod."
Jarrod looked amused at the statement. "You have less than a single uncles relation to Tear yet you seem to imitate the barbarians much better than they do themselves."
"Barbarians?" Bernine said, his voice rising.
"Jarrod, Bernine." Gawyn broke in. "This is not the place to discuss the complexities of the feud between Illian and Tear."
The youths glowered, before they looked past Rand and bowed. Gawyn turned and smiled.
"Elayne." He greeted, bowing his head.
Rand swivelled around, about to bow when…
"Come Defender." Elayne spoke coldly. "I shall be taking a walk with Lord Mayborn."
Rand bowed, shooting Gawyn a puzzled look, and followed Elayne obediently. He had read the undercurrents of annoyance and perhaps fear.
Elayne met with the youth she had been dancing with, who did not look pleased to see him. As the two left the room, Rand strained his ears to listen in.
"…my Father has been talking to your mother, the Queen…dowry of seven acres of field and seventy thousands gold pieces…not finalised…" The boy was saying.
Elayne had a cold look on her face as she turned into a small alcove that led to a large balcony that overlooked the city. The moon provided ample light, and torches lit the walls as Elayne walked to the edge of the balcony, staring out to the twinkling lights of the guard towers and the houses.
"I am the Daughter-Heir of Andor." She said abruptly and loudly. Rand slunk in the shadows, interested despite himself, as Lord Mayborn's smiled faded. "Do you think that Mother will allow a Cairhien to become King one day?"
"Your mother did express interest, and the dowry is great. My father is prepared to go to higher lengths…" Lord Mayborn started.
"Lord Mayborn, in Andor it is my choice on who I will marry." Elayne said crisply.
"In the interests of peace and good relations, surely you could see…" Lord Mayborn began again.
Rand watched with a vindictive delight as Elayne's face darkened. Even he knew not to anger her when she was in this state. Young as she was, her temper could shatter the greatest of egos. Suddenly, there was movement from the corner of his eye. He turned his head, he had been sure he had seen a man walk into the balcony. His eyes roamed over the chairs, the walls, a plain looking man with a dagger, the plants in on the edge of the balcony, the torches on the wall…he suddenly moved his eyes back to the man, standing in front of him and resisted the urge to slide his eyes away as the dagger flashed. Rand ducked, sidestepping and drawing his sword. With a deft thrust, the man crumpled to the ground and the dagger clattered to the floor.
Elayne and Lord Mayborn looked up, surprise in their features as Rand pulled the sword from the man's chest.
"What is this?" Lord Mayborn asked in shock, regarding the dead man with a look of surprise on his face.
"Rand?" Elayne asked, her eyes wide.
Rand opened his mouth to answer when two more men walked into the balcony, one with a dagger and the other with a sword. His sword flicked as he moved forward, slicing the an arm and killing one man with a powerful blow, while dodging a swinging sword and ending it with a graceful flick that opened the mans throat.
"Guards! Guards! Murder on the third floor balcony! Murder! Murder! Guards!" Rand shouted as loudly as he could.
Lord Mayborn had withdrawn an ornate knife; gems crusting the hilt was Rand picked up the two daggers of the men, and the extra sword.
"Can you use a sword?" Rand asked Mayborn, who nodded hesitantly. Rand passed him the simple blade, slid a dagger into his belt and passed the other one to Elayne who took it with a determined look on her face.
"Where are the guards?" Mayborn asked, shivering as he looked at the bodies.
"Most likely dead." Rand heard himself say as he wrapped himself in the void, emotions and feelings poured into the flame of his mind and leaving him calm, focussed and relaxed.
"Dead…" Elayne echoed, fright entering her voice.
"I don't see how…ARGH!" Lord Mayborn screamed. Rand turned around as Mayborn collapsed, a plainly dressed woman withdrawing her knife from his chest. He swung his blade, knocking the knife from her hand and held his sword at her throat as Elayne knelt by the body of Mayborn.
"Who are you? Who sent you?" Rand demanded.
The woman's eyes were dead, the mind gone. Only her body still moved to somebody else's strings. "I am a Soulless." She replied, her voice slack and dull.
"They are a myth!" Rand burst out angrily. "Tales to frighten children!"
The woman said nothing. The Soulless were myths, people who had joined the Dark One and sold their souls to Him, leaving their bodies behind. They looked ordinary, so ordinary that ones eyes would slide right past them until the moment a knife entered their heart. But these were just myths, rumours, like Trollocs who were humans blended with vicious animals.
"Why are you here?" Elayne asked suddenly.
"To Kill." The woman said, and a note of pleasure entered her dull voice.
"What does the Dark One care about Elayne?" Rand pressed. The woman didn't answer and Rand pressed his blade against her throat, drawing blood from a thin cut. The woman panted, her eyes glittering with hate. When she spoke, her voice had changed.
"I am the Slayer."
Rand hesitated. Magic was at work here, some trickery or power he could not comprehend. "Why do you want to kill Elayne?" He asked angrily.
The woman's lips curled. "I don't. I want to kill you, dear nephew."
Rand felt as if he had been struck.
"Come to Rhuidean and we shall meet!" The woman growled.
Rand opened his mouth to say something when the woman gurgled, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and she fell to the ground. Rand stared at her for a second, his mind abuzz.
"Rand?" Elayne asked gently. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you well?"
Rand wanted to say no, he wasn't well. Somebody had tried to kill him, and an innocent person had paid the price for it. His gaze wandered over Lord Mayborn's body and he shuddered.
"I didn't know you had an uncle." Elayne said.
"I don't. Tam has no brothers." Rand answered.
Elayne looked as if she were to say something else, but footsteps pounded on stone as red robed and white armoured guards holding bared swords and notched bows stormed into the room, a mere nine of them.
"My Lady, are you hurt?" Captain Grimol asked in concern. His eyes flickered to the three plain clothed corpses, and the dead noble.
"No." Elayne said, an edge in her voice. "Where are the rest of the guards?"
"My Lady, they are dead. There are twenty men two rooms from here, and they're dead without one fallen enemy!" Grimol said. The other guards shifted on their feet.
"The nearest guards are in the Ball Room. There must be a dozen guarding the doors and several dozen more down the hall.." Rand said.
Captain Grimol nodded to himself. "Yes, reinforcements. Who were they?" He asked as an afterthought.
"The Soulless. Grey Men." Rand said.
Grimol stared at him, his face ashen. "Surely, they are myths?"
"Nay," said a grizzled veteran, old enough to be Rand's grandfather. "I have walked the Blight, where Trollocs and Myrddraal roam. They are not myths."
The guards suddenly looked tenser, as if monsters were going to leap at them from the shadows. Rand wouldn't be surprised if they did.
"We shall escort the Daughter-Heir to the Ballroom," Rand ordered. "We shall protect her with out lives, as our oaths demand. No shadow spawn will harm her while we breathe."
Captain Grimol nodded gratefully, willing to follow rather than lead.
"Then what shall we do?" asked a guard.
"Gareth Byrne will know what to do." Rand answered.
That put the guards at ease. Surely, if anybody knew what to do it would the Captain-General, veteran of many wars and one of the greatest Generals in the known world.
"Let's go." Rand said and took Elayne's arm with one hand, keeping his sword in the other.
It was a fearsome party that travelled the halls. The guards boxed Rand and Elayne in, their swords gleaming in torchlight and their bowstrings tense. As they neared the ballroom, the torches on the walls flickered and dimmed and a gushing wind spread through the hall.
"What was that?" Captain Grimol asked outloud.
"ARGH!"
A guard fell to the ground, being struck by shadows. Grimol whirled around as from the shadows came three identical black-cloaked figures. They were the same height and width, and carried identical swords that gleamed with darkness, soaking in all light.
"Myrddraal!" Breathed the veteran, his eyes in panic.
"Loose!" Grimol shouted.
Four bowstrings snapped as arrows jutted from one of the figures, which withered as another four arrows speared into it. Its hood fell back, revealing pasty white skin and a human nose and lips. But where the eyes should be lay blank skin, no groove or eyeball. It fell to the ground, twitching madly as the other two Myrddraal glided forward, moving with an unholy grace. Their swords flickered with a serpentine grace as they slashed forward. Two guards met them with their swords, and fell in seconds.
"Run!" Elayne shouted.
"Retreat!" Captain Grimol shouted to Rand. To the other guards, "Protect the Daughter-Heir!"
"For Elayne!"
"For the Golden Lily!"
Rand pulled Elayne along as Grimol and his men met the Myrddraal in battle, swords clashing wildly. Men screamed as he turned a corner and he knew that he would not see the Captain alive again. He ran, pulling Elayne along with him, for Light knows how long. It seemed like hours, but was probably minutes. As they rounded a corner, he saw two Guards that stood at attention.
"Guards! Intruders in the castle! Protect the Daughter-Heir!" Rand bellowed.
The guards jumped at his voice, one of them peering at him. Rand looked down at himself to see blood staining his shirt, his cloak was torn and his sword dripped with blood.
"Intruders?" The other guard wandered, pulling his sword from scabbard.
"Shadowspawn. Captain Grimol was fighting them…" Rand trailed off as a loud scream echoed in the corridors. "Come!"
The guards obeyed, following Rand as he sprinted through the corridors. He was in good shape, but Elayne was not and she tugged his arm.
"I need to rest!" She panted, her red-gold curls wild and her clothes rumpled. She still gripped the dagger in her hand.
"Guardsmen. Carry the Daughter-Heir!" Rand instructed.
"No!" Elayne shrieked. "Rand…" She warned.
Rand had to smile as the man hoisted up the girl to his shoulder, and couldn't help but laugh at Elayne's expression.
"Laugh as you will, al'Thor." Elayne said clearly, giving him a withering stare.
Rand stopped laughing, his lips still tugged upwards. To the guards, "I will stay here. Take Elayne to the Ballroom and get General Byrne."
"What?" Elayne asked in shock as the Guardsmen nodded. "Rand…"
"Elayne, I don't think it is you who they seek." Rand said. "You heard the Soulless. It is me they want dead."
"Why?" Elayne practically shrieked.
"I don't know!" Rand growled back, panic appearing in his eyes. For a moment, the void disappeared as panic flowed through him.
"Defender al'Thor. You swore to obey and protect me." Elayne said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You cannot do that while facing those…things alone. You will accompany me to the Ballroom. That is an order from the Daughter-Heir of Andor to her Guardsmen."
Rand hesitated, peering down the corridor. Elayne looked imperious and noble, even draped across a Guardsmen shoulder, but an undercurrent of fear shined in her eyes.
"Rand, please!" Elayne tried again, her tone of voice pleading with him. "As a friend, then. I ask as a friend. Get help, don't fight them!"
"Let's go." Rand said gruffly, "To the Ballroom."
The pair of guards nodded as they raced away.
Several minutes later, they found themselves in front of the Ballroom doors, with eight guardsmen standing guard,
"Intruders!" One of the guards accompanying Rand called out. "Protect the Daughter-Heir!"
The other guard let Elayne down, gripping his sword with two hands as they guardsmen guarding the Ball unsheathed swords, their faces showing surprise and shock then determination. They clustered around Elayne in seconds, boxing her in, while Rand squirmed his way out of the crowd
"Look out!" A guard called.
Three blurs moved from the shadows, swords moving like the wind. A guard screamed in agony as his arm was removed, only to be silenced a second later. Three Myrddraal, one with arrows stuck into him, moved towards Rand.
"Open the doors!" A guard shouted to the doorkeeper.
Elaida stood next to the Queen as she strolled the floor. The first course of the feast was finished, a particularly nice leg of ham. Morgase was in an irate mood, having finished talking to Lord Mayborn, who had been discussing the possibility of his son and Elayne in marriage. Morgase had told him no uncertain terms that Elayne was far too young for marriage, and that when she was older, that she would have a choice on the man she married.
Personally, Elaida did not care. She had the gift of foretelling, knowing things of the future, and she had once predicted that Andor would be essential in the Final Battle of the Prophecies, where the Dragon Reborn would lead the forces of Light against the forces of Shadow, and defeat the Dark One who would break free of his prison. She had immediately used her influence to gain herself a position of influence in Andor, as the Aes Sedai advisor to the throne.
Elaida suddenly stiffened. As an Aes Sedai, she had limited powers in sensing Shadowspawn, all creatures made by the shadow. It was limited, mainly as she had no bonded warder to heighten that sense, but she was sure she had sensed the rotting presence of a creature of darkness.
"Elaida?" Morgase asked her, and Elaida frowned. Suddenly, a loud scream of pain came from beyond the closed doors. The musicians stopped playing as Lord and Ladies turned to the doors, just as they opened. A stream of guards backed in, shielding Elayne who held a dagger. Three black figures moved like serpents, slicing through the guards easily and without effort.
The noble ladies screamed, crowding away from the doors. Gareth Byrne had an unsheathed sword and moved towards the Queen as Elaida drew herself up, filling herself with the One Power. She raised her hand as two more guards fell and a fireball erupted, searing the air. The Myrddraal dodged, turning its eyeless gaze upon her and moved for her.
The One power, both Saidar and Saidin, is represented by five elements. Fire, Water, Earth, Air and Spirit. By weaving different weaves together in different patterns, like a spider in a spider web, a channeler can create almost anything. Unfortunately, discovering these weaves is a dangerous job and many have died trying. The weaves from the Age of Legends have vanished, leaving many talents extinct.
Rand backed away as one Myrddraal moved towards the Aes Sedai, and the other towards him. No guard still lived with one Myrddraal dead. The Myrddraal had cut through the guards like a reaper through corn. He summoned the void and held his sword steady. The Myrddraal struck first, it's sword dancing. Rand barely blocked it, staggering back as the force of the blow almost knocked him off his feet. He unleashed Slicing the Silk, Ducking the Rock and Burning the Leaf, his sword clashing against that of the Myrddraal's.
The two danced, Shadowspawn and human, their blades a whirl. It took every bit of Rand's skill to stop himself from being hit. No creature Rand had seen moved as fast as the Myrddraal. Dimly, he was aware of its partner circling the Aes Sedai, lightning and fire erupting around it as it hissed. He concentrated upon his own opponent, rendering himself deep into the void. He ignored the tiredness and pain and anything else that skittered at the edge, and concentrated upon his movements.
Slowly, he began to drive the Myrddraal back, crossing the floor and coming to the doors. The Myrddraal jumped over the bodies, it's blade whirling as it slashed at a corpse and stabbed into a piece of flesh, flinging it at Rand. Rand took a step backwards and stumbled over one of the bodies. He suddenly felt a striking pain blare from within him outside the void as the Myrddraal's blade sliced upon his cloak and into his side. But it had overextended itself and Rand performed Fish Upstream, and the Myrddraal hissed as it's left arm severed, but did not stop the viciousness of its attack. It's blade, used by one hand, slice on Rand's head. For a moment, Rand thought it had missed but strands of hair coated in blood fell to the floor and he was kicked to the ground, the sword dropping from his hand.
The Myrddraal raised its sword and slashed downwards, and Rand saw red as it tore across his scalp as he leaned back, his hand groping for his sword. A second later he found his hilt and cut into the Myrddraal's leg, and as it fell he performed Dance of the Windmill. The Myrddraal fell to the ground, headless and legless but twitching just as the Aes Sedai cast a fireball from her hand, while directing lightning from the sky. The other Myrddraal dodged the lightning but exploded in a whirl of flames.
Rand could no longer hold the void and pain, exhaustion, tiredness and fear rushed through him. He lay on the ground, dimly aware of scores of guards flowing in with swords, bows, spears and halberds. It seemed like he had been fighting for hours, days, but in reality it had been twenty or thirty seconds. He closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion take him.
A week later
"Must you do this?" Elayne asked softly.
Rand nodded, alone in the stables save for the Daughter-Heir and Gawyn. A pack rested on his back, filled with food, water, herbs, his book on Manetheren and the book he never had been able to open let alone decipher, knives. His sword lay on his belt and he was dressed in black pants, a blue shirt and a thick cloak.
"Rhuidean is in the Aiel Waste." Rand told her as he picked up his pack. "I need to go."
"It could be a trap." Gawyn warned.
"It probably is. But should I stay here and wait for more Myrddraal? Let other people die for me? No, I will find this Slayer." Rand said, his tone determined.
"It is said that Two Rivers folk are stubborn when they think they are right." Gawyn said, amusement and resignation laced in his voice. Elayne, Gawyn and Rand were the only three who knew what the Myrddraal had been truly after that night. Elaida suspected, yes, and Gareth Byrne had given him a knowing look when he had informed the General that he was leaving on personal business. Officially, he was going to Illian to meet a friend. The rumours around the Guardsmen were that he was so upset at this attack, that he was going to the Borderlands and the Blight to wage war upon the Shadow forces.
"I could order you to stay. Your oath would demand that you obey." Elayne said stubbornly.
"Elayne," Rand said, his voice laced with exhaustion.
Elayne sighed, unballing her hands. "I release you from your oath." She said softly. "Do as you will."
"Good luck Rand." Gawyn said solemnly.
Rand bowed deeply. "And to you, Lord Gawyn." He hesitated. "And you, Lady Elayne."
He jumped on his saddle, the horse shuffling slightly. "Come on boy," He whispered and thumped his heels and the horse broke off at a trot. He was off to Rhuidean, where he would find out what was happening.
A/N- I love the ending…so western like. I resisted the urge to write, 'He rode off into the sunset'