A/N- I think I have this planned out now, I have a nice little Text file that I've layed my proposed plan out. If somebody wants to Beta it, pick out anything or suggest ideas about it, email me or leave a message in a review and I might send you it. But beware of spoliers if you do...

I have a question. Does Mat's fox head medallion block Saidin as well as Saidar?

Liz- You know, I had forgotten that. Oh well, I'll have to 'conveniently' ignore those facts…it would ruin the plot. Or maybe Rand is special because he's the Dragon Reborn. You know, I could use that…

Some Months Later

Slowly, with the treatment of Nynaeve's herbs and the constant exercise Rand did helping Tam around the farm, Rand's health improved by the day. Twice in three months, Nynaeve had to purge and clean the two old wounds, which would fill with the tainted pus. Rand was sure that an Aes Sedai would be able to heal him, but he found himself reluctant to leave and go home. After eight months with the Tinkers and four months at Two Rivers, Rand wasn't even sure that he could use the sword properly. Which was why Rand started practising everyday at sunset, his blade whistling through the air as his arms and body quickly retuned itself to the blade.

Saidin had changed the blade. It was more attuned to his mind and became more and more like a third arm. He doubted that he would ever be able to use another sword like he used this. One day, Perrin and Mat were throwing small stones at Rand, who would dodge or block them. Needless to say, it was harder than it sounded and Rand had already been hit several times. As another rock flew at him, Rand twisted the blade so the horizontal plane was facing the rock and had swung it. There was a tiny clanging noise as the rock was struck but the moving blade and it soared over Mat and Perrin's head. Rand grinned slightly before something fast and quick hit him in the leg, no more than a sting.

"We could stop if you want us to," Perrin offered, but Mat grinned and heaved another rock at Rand. Rand ducked as it flew over his head, and stood up with a half-mocking smile on his face.

"Ow!" Someone yelped and Mat's smile faded quickly.

Rand turned around to see Egwene stepping into the small paddock on Tam's farm where they had been practising.

"Hello Egwene," Rand greeted with courtesy.

"Who threw that?" She demanded. Behind Rand, Mat fidgeted and she sighed. "Of course, it had to have been Mat Cauthon,"

"Why are you here?" Mat demanded as he and Perrin strolled up.

Egwene sniffed loudly, casting a dark look at Mat. "I just thought you would like to now that a Peddler Van has entered Emond's field."

"A Peddler Van?" Mat asked in excitement.

"At this time of the year?" Perrin frowned.

Rand looked nonplussed, but Mat and Perrin were certainly excited.

"I saved up four coppers." Mat was saying as Egwene led them back to Emonds field. "I might get myself a sword, like Rand here,"

Perrin snorted. "A weapon?" He asked. "What would you need one for?"

Mat threw a dirty look at him. "In case those Whitecloaks ever return." He said darkly. "Calling me father a Darkfriend…they were lucky Nynaeve didn't switch every single one of them,"

"I have a weapon, an axe I made when Master Luhhan wasn't busy." Perrin said, snorting slightly. "But once I'd built it, I realised that I would probably never use it. Besides, you're good with the quarterstaff."

Mat sighed in acknowledgment. "Yeah." He brightened visibly. "Maybe he has one I could buy. Or I could make one,"

"Doesn't your father have one?" Rand asked.

"He doesn't let me touch it, not after I beat him at Bel Tine and broke his arm." Mat said glumly.

Egwene sniffed, speaking for the first time. "You're all being foolish. You would really kill Whitecloaks Mat, you would kill a man with a family, maybe a wife and children,"

"Only if he tried to kill me first," Mat protested. "Besides, I bet Rand has before. He's got enough scars to prove it,"

Rand looked at Mat with such a controlled and blank expression that it made him falter in his step. "I have killed before, but only few were human."

"So what wasn't human?" Mat asked, just as they rounded a bend and gazed upon the village of Emond's Field. A small and bright red Peddlers wagon was in the middle of the village and people were milled around it.

"There it is!" Mat crowed. He started running down towards the village eagerly, leaving behind Rand, Egwene and Perrin, who stared after him.

"He acts like a child," Egwene said in disapproval. "He's been switched four times in the last month, four! He should act more like you Perrin."

Perrin shrugged uncomfortably, probably because he had been party to most of Mat's schemes and pranks. "Rand hasn't been switched once since he's been here, even when he knocked over the horse trough and wet all of Mrs Caern's new clothes,"

Egwene glanced at Rand, her eyes flicking over his sword and grimaced. "I don't think anybody has the nerve to," She admitted.

Rand raised a curious eyebrow at Egwene and she flushed. "Let's see this wagon then," he said, ignoring Egwene's comment.

The Peddler was a rather large man with a sweating belly and dark, squinty eyes. His face seemed to be permanently nervous and his eyes flicked everywhere, as if he expected attack at any time. He stank of his own body odour and his clothes were dirty and more rags than anything else. Still, villagers flocked at his wagons, browsing through his merchandise. There were ceramic cups, books, brightly coloured cloths, some old rusty broadswords and trinkets of the same sought. Mat was among the crowd, gazing at a wooden rod with longing.

"See there, Rand," He said as he gestured at the rod as Rand approached. It was a quarterstaff, slim and made from Blackwood. It looked to be of good quality and the Peddler was quick to catch onto Mat's interest.

"What do you think son," He said in a booming voice. "It's a fine piece of work, made in Saldea from the finest weapon makers,"

Rand doubted that but Mat seemed even more eager, his eyes staring at the quarterstaff with longing. "How much?" He asked.

"A Silver," The Peddler said and Mat groaned.

"What?" Perrin exclaimed. "For that?"

"That's fine wood boy," The Peddler said sharply. His expression grew calculating as he gazed at Mat, his eyes narrowed. "Are you skilled boy?"

"Only the best in Two Rivers," Mat said, a little smugly.

"He is good," Egwene said grudgingly, but her face reeked of disapproval.

"I tell you what. I need to head back down to Ghaeldan," The Peddler said. "But with them Whitecloaks everywhere, it's not safe to ride alone, especially Peddlers and merchants. They catch me and they'll take my wares and money, a fine they'll call it. Just thieving if you ask me, but what can I do? Anyway, I let you show me how good you are with that and if you are good, I'll give it to you if you ride with me down to Ghaeldan. You know, escort."

Mat looked wary, stepping back. "I don't know," He started.

"Look boy, chances are that we won't see a single Whitecloak. But it's better to be a little cautious, just in case. I'm not asking you to fight for me, but just show off a little of your skill in front of them and maybe they'll decide that it isn't worth. The patrols only number up to four of five," The Peddler said, grimacing. "And Lord Logain will be real pleased with you. Might even give you a gift as thanks,"

"Lord Logain?" Perrin asked, stepping in with his arms folded, showing his bulging muscles from being a blacksmith apprentice.

"A minor Lord really, he lives on the border of Ghaeldan. I am in his service," The Peddler said and bowed slightly. "Gruthcomb is my name,"

"I'll come with you," Mat said abruptly. "Give me that Quarterstaff and I'll come and if any Whitecloak stops you, I'll beat them up!"

The Peddler looked startled but relieved, sweat dripping down his face. It was only then Rand could see how much Gruthcomb feared the Whitecloaks, if he would hire a young boy to ride guard.

"Mat!" Perrin hissed. "What about your father?"

Mat's face fell and the Peddler must have sensed some reluctance because his face grew desperate.

"Lord Logain will pay you! Ten Silvers, I guarantee it!" He said quickly.

Egwene drew in her breath sharply and even Perrin looked startled. To a man of Two Rivers, ten silvers was a lot of money. It was more money that a man might earn in six months in the fields or barns, and only if he was lucky.

"Ten silvers…I'll do it!" Mat agreed eagerly. "And the quarterstaff as well,"

"Deal." Gruthcomb agreed and held out his hand. Mat took it, shaking it with a beaming smile.

"What's this?" Came a high-pitched voice. It was Bodewin Cauthon, Mat's younger sister by two years. Anytime she found out Mat had done something wrong, she would immediately tell on him to their mother or Nynaeve. She was the reason he was caught so many times, she had a good nose for finding out what Mat liked to keep hidden. "Mat, what are you doing?" She asked, her dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. Her hair was not braided; she had not yet reached marriageable age.

Mat shifted on his feet but held his head squarely. "I'm going to be a merchant guard for Gruthcomb here, just for a little while. He's paying me ten silvers!"

Bodewin's mouth dropped open in surprise and shock. "Mat! Ooh, I'm telling Mother,"

"Fine! Tell her!" Mat said, scowling at her. "I was going to do so anyway." He followed her away from the van, still arguing with her.

"What about you?" Gruthcomb asked Perrin. "Want to go on an adventure boy? You'll be paid well and it will let you see some of the world!"

Perrin hesitated, shrugging uncomfortably.

"Why are you here anyway? The rest of the Peddlers have been gone six months," Egwene asked sharply.

Gruthcomb hesitated, his eyes darting left and right. "I…er…got separated from the rest of my friends."

"You're lying," Egwene said, crossing her arms and casting a dark look at him.

"Well, I…Um, you see…Look, I've got a package for my Lord." Gruthcomb said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "It's very rare and valuable and he wanted to immediately. I need to get it to him! Don't tell anybody!"

Egwene frowned. "So that's why you want guards, so the Whitecloaks don't try to take it? It makes more sense, I suppose. Why would Whitecloaks want this stuff anyway?"

"What is it?" Rand asked, and Gruthcomb shifted his eyes onto him, not missing the sword at his side, the heron-mark covered by a strip of cloth.

"It's a piece of parchment, very old." He said softly. Eyeing a man who was inspecting a small ceramic bowl, he put on a smile and boomed out in a jolly voice. "Interested in that good sir? It's three coppers, but for you I'll make it two!"

The man nodded, a farmer from the outlying regions if Rand recognised him properly, and paid the money to Gruthcomb, who put it into one of the large pockets sewn into his shirt and came back to Egwene, Perrin and Rand, wringing his hand nervously.

"Look, I've talked to your Village Council and they say that none of them would help me." He said, half-pleading. "Lord Logain wants this parchment and I had to pay a lot of his money to get it. If I return and get mugged by Whitecloaks or bandits…well, it would be better if I didn't."

"Rand! Perrin!" Mat called out, approaching with a grinning face. "My Pa's not to happy about it, but he's letting me go! He says that Ten Silvers is a lot of money and that I'm an grown up now and I should be making some money for myself."

"I'll ask my father and ask if I can come." Perrin said, sighing at Mat. "Light Mat, you're always dragging me into trouble. But I do have an axe and ten silvers is a lot of money…"

"You are both fools!" Egwene said angrily, stomping her foot on the ground. "Rand, can't you…Oh no, not you too!"

"You're both going to get yourselves killed," Rand said grimly. "I better come and make sure you don't. Besides, I've never been to Ghaeldan."

"Woolheaded fools," Egwene muttered as she stormed away.

Gruthcomb looked as if he were going to explode with happiness and relief. "I was planning on leaving tomorrow…but if that's not alright with you, I can wait."

"Tomorrow sounds good to me, my friend," Mat beamed, eyeing the quarterstaff. "I'll have a practise on the quarterstaff and get myself ready?"

"Of course, of course!" Gruthcomb bubbled and handed an eager Mat the quarterstaff. He took it eagerly and began to whirl it around, using all of his skill to impress and dazzle Gruthcomb.

"I better find my father," Perrin muttered to Rand. "What about yours? Will he let you go?"

"I think he will." Rand said. "He did let me go five years ago."

Tam had been slightly surprised at Rand's request to leave but had taken it in stride. He sat in his favourite chair, a book in his hands as he read under candlelight while Rand stood above him, a book clasped in one hand.

"I don't claim to have any hold over you Rand," He said, his brows furrowed. "You can come and go as you please, you are an adult. Besides, if Mat and Perrin are going than you better look after them."

Rand nodded his thanks. "I better get together a quick travelling pack," He said.

Tam leaned back in his chair and looked up from his book as Rand turned to leave the room.

"Be careful and try to avoid the Whitecloaks. I don't want you getting hurt and gaining another scar," Tam said. Rand turned to leave and remmerbed the book in his hands.

"Here," Rand offered. He passed Tam the book. "You'll find it interesting, it's about Manetheran."

Up in his room, Rand frowned as he considered his pack. He would take his sword, of course, and a knife or two, with a few packs of clothes and a spare pair of boots as well. As he went to get his clothes from his wardrobe, his eyes picked out two objects that he hesitated over. One was the cuendillar hammer, which Rand took. Maybe Perrin would like that, he could use if for his smithing. The other item was rolled up in dark cloth, which contained six crystals of Saidin. If worse came to worse…maybe if he took two, just to be safe.

As Rand settled into bed, he decided that if he were able to go through this trip successfully without his sickness bothering him too badly, he would go to Caemlyn after he returned to Two Rivers. Elayne probably thought he was dead and he missed her. Of course, Rand thought wryly, he wouldn't be missing her after she chewed him out for letting her think he was dead. But how could he send a message from Two Rivers, or when he had been with the Tinkers? Well, that was a problem he would deal with later.

The next morning, Rand bid Tam a farewell as he walked into the village at early dusk. He had long ago given Tam the horse he had bought to help with the farm, and he wouldn't dream asking for it back during the wet season, when Tam would need it the most. In took almost an twenty minutes to finally reach Emond's field and when he go there, the sun was rising and Gruthcomb waited beside his van with Mat and Perrin. Mat held his quarterstaff proudly while Perrin had an axe strapped to his waist, with a semi-circular blade and two spikes poking out at the other side.

"You made that?" Rand asked Perrin, who was dressed in warm coat.

"Yeah," Perrin said as he lifted the axe. He grinned at Rand as he admired the axe.

"I have something for you." Rand said abruptly and reaching into his cloak. He unstrapped the hammer and pulled it out. Gruthcomb gasped at the solid white hammer, and Perrin took it gingerly, as if he were afraid to break it.

"That's…Light, I had heard descriptions but I had never seen Heartstone before," Gruthcomb muttered, his eyes wide as Perrin swung experimentally with the hammer.

"That's the unbreakable stuff from the stories?" Mat demanded, gesturing towards the hammer. "Hey, what did you get me?"

Rand hesitated at Mat's expectant face and quickly some battered but sturdy throwing knives, three in total. "You might need some blades," He offered. He knew it wasn't much compared to the hammer but Mat took them with a smile of thanks. He gazed at one of the knives and tilted it above his head.

"There's blood on this one," He declared, gazing at Rand with a glimmer of awe and respect.

"Oh," was all Rand said.

"Boys, are you ready to go?" Gruthcomb asked, tearing his eyes away from the cuendillar hammer in Perrin's grip.

"Lead on Gruthcomb!" Mat said eagerly, and the Peddler van began to move as the Gruthcomb urged the horse to a slow trot.

"Where did you get this?" Perrin asked as he fell in beside Rand.

Rand shrugged evasively. "Oh, I found it." He answered.

"Daughter, tell me what you think of Lord Luc," Queen Morgase asked Elayne one night.

Elayne looked up from her food, every bit of her body reflecting her royal bearing. Morgase had invited her for dinner, just the two of them, and they ate inside in a private room. Servants bustled in and out from inconspicuous doors as they bought in the finest foods and wine in Andor.

"I think he…is a nice person," Elayne said, taking a sip into her glass. "Very shy, sometimes nervous. But he is nice,"

"He bears no designs on the Royal Throne then?" Morgase asked calmly.

"I do not think so," Elayne answered slowly, a slight frown forming. "He holds you in the greatest respect, he had heard how you prevented a civil war when Tigraine vanished. But he does not like the Aes Sedai."

"It is understandable, he was lured from Caemlyn and lost two decades of his life because of one." Morgase said. She took a bite from a piece of cheese and swallowed as she fixed her daughter with a look. "How does Galad get on with him?"

"They are formal with one another, but you know Galad. He will do what is right and leave emotion at the door." Elayne said, wrinkling her nose at the mention of her half-brother. "But Galad does appreciate that Luc is his uncle, and Luc does seem to dote on him when he gets the chance."

"I think Lord Luc is harmless." Morgase said. "But he also poses a threat. Not all of the Houses supported me when I gained the throne and there are those who might manipulate Luc into contesting my claim. His blood is purer than mine, he has more royal blood pumping in his veins than either of us."

"He is a man, Andor has had a King," Elayne protested lightly.

Morgase nodded. "But what if he married? His wife could contest you for the throne when I die, and there will be war."

"Surely…they would not do that, would they?" Elayne asked, disbelief in her voice.

"Maybe," Morgase said, sipping her wine unconcerned. "On the subject of marriage, let us talk about yours. Who do you think you will marry? Do you have any choices at this very moment?"

Elayne frowned, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands on her lap. "I always thought that…Rand and I might have had something…" Her voice trailed off.

Morgase sighed in sympathy. "It would have not been the first time that a Queen married a commoner," She said. "But Rand al'Thor is dead. What do you think of marriage now?"

"You want me to marry Lord Luc?" Elayne asked, smiling wryly with a touch of bitterness. "Just as you married Tigraine's husband to secure your claim on the throne. You want me to secure my claim,"

"He is forty years old," Morgase said. "He is of Royal blood, handsome, meek, polite…he would make a find choice. It would not be permanent, likely he would be dead in twenty or thirty years,"

"Are you asking for my choice, or telling me what you have decided?" Elayne asked, a touch of anger in her voice. When Morgase said nothing, Elayne saw the truth in her eyes and stood up quickly, placing her goblet on the table and stalking from the room in fury.

Morgase stared after her and sighed. "You will come around daughter," She muttered to herself. "If you ever want to be Queen, you will come around."