Disclaimer: I don't own Wheel of Time. OrMat. Or anything, really.

Mat woke up in an unfamiliar bed. He rolled over and realized that there was a cramp in his side from the flat mattress. "Spoiled noble," he muttered to himself. Why wasn't he long gone from Altara by now? It had been three days since he had had his fight with Tuon. There had to be a reason. He scowled. It must have been that he was too drunk, or tired. He should have left, but somehow he kept finding reasons why he should not.

He found himself missing Tuon, suddenly. He was rather lonely in this inn, and he missed her dazzling smile, her polarized moods – even the foot long nails. He pushed that away. He was being silly. The woman was possessive, and he couldn't stand women who thought they owned him. It was just…some sort of attachment, from being with her for so long. It would wear off, he was certain. He hoped he was certain.

He wondered what Birgitte would say if she were with him now. Birgitte was the one woman who made any sense. Most of the time, at any rate. He imagined her smirking at him over a tankard of beer, and winced as he imagined what she would probably say.

You're acting like a fool, Mat. Or should I call you Lord Cauthon, now? You think you're a noble? You better get out of this mad country before all those bowing people go to your head.

No, that wouldn't be Birgitte. She would be laughing, no doubt. Birgitte would probably think the idea of him as a noble was absolutely hilarious. She probably knew all about how nobles were supposed to act, anyway. Or maybe not. Birgitte was one of the least ladylike people he knew. But about Tuon. Oh, she would laugh herself into hysterics over that. I wonder which stiff neck will win, the Cauthon one or the Seanchan one? You should both learn some humility. But apologizing to her should be easy. Just get her really drunk, and-

Mat flushed and shook his head to clear it. Yes, that was definitely more like Birgitte. He winced again, only half because of the cramp in his side as he swung out of bed. He would not apologize! Not when it wasn't his fault the woman insisted on following him as if she were tied to his heels. Probably with pink ribbons, too. The woman had tried to dress him up in pink. The first chance he got, he had dropped the florescent garment in a pig sty.

He was leaving. This afternoon, before the woman could confuse him anymore. No more excuses. He was out of Altara, for good. His head hurt, now. Probably from all that thinking he was doing. It wasn't good for the brain.

His mind made up, he ventured downstairs to check the ale supply this early in the morning.

Scowling, he sat down at the counter and brooded over a cup of cold lemonade. Somehow it was not the same, but the innkeeper had told this ruffled young man quite firmly that they did not brew beer this early in the morning. The bartender leaned over the counter. "You having trouble with women, lad?"

Mat started. It had been a long time since anyone had called him "lad." "How did you guess?" he muttered, and gulped his lemonade sourly.

The bartender nodded knowingly. "Well, they're what causes every man's troubles, aren't they? Viper's nests, every one of them. I'm married, you know, and a sharper tongue you never heard. All bossy and fussing over every little thing. What's your trouble?"

Mat choked at the description of the man's wife. "She sounds like Ny – like a woman I know," he said. "Come to think of it, she sounds like a lot of women I know." He grimaced. "The woman is the most arrogant thing under the Light – or out of it, probably. Walking around with her nose in the air, trying to tell a man what to do. I couldn't stand it, so I walked out."

The man looked sympathetic. "Thank the Light I've never known one of those. Smart to get out while you still can. But now you miss her, arrogance and all? I know the feeling. Just get her to come down here, make sure she knows that you won't stand for any more of her nonsense, and spend one good night with her. She'll forget all about the argument, trust me."

His reply sounded so much like Birgitte's imaginary one that Mat choked again, and the man had to pound on his back hard before he was able to breathe again. He scowled. Why did everyone seem to think he missed the Light burned woman? He didn't! He would not miss her, her with her nose in the air. The trouble was, the person that most seemed to think that he missed Tuon was himself.

He flipped a coin to the bartender and got up, pulling his scarf tighter. "I've got to go. For a walk." He said shortly, and stalked out of the bar, leaving a few people staring after him. Too late, Mat realized that the coin he had flipped to the man might have been gold. He scowled again, and wished he had brought his ashanderei. There would probably be five or six footpads on his heels by nightfall.

He headed out of the city. The guards didn't give him a second look – they knew his face from his insistence to Tuon that he be allowed to wander where he wished. Once out of sight of the city, he headed off the road toward the woods north of the worn, dusty path. The shade was refreshing – the stifling heat lately had been crushing him. He walked through the trunks at a leisurely pace, thinking. He seemed to do a lot of that, lately. He felt uncomfortable as he realized that it had been at least a couple months since he had been by himself, or alone with just men. It seemed all he had been doing lately was guarding the backs of various women, that walked off without so much as a thank you when they were done with your services.

He wondered what Tuon was doing, then pushed the thought out of his head. She didn't matter! He wouldn't think of her, not now that he was free. He had always feared being locked in a cage or being leashed, and that was exactly what Tuon represented. A leash attached firmly to his neck. That wasn't what he wanted, was it?

A very small voice murmured that it really depended on who was holding the leash, but he shrugged that off. He was being stupid, no doubt about that. Who thought that a woman with a temper like winter winds, no hair and long nails was beautiful? Nobody, that was who. No one but a fool of a wool-headed, Light-blinded man.

And, unfortunately, it appeared that that was exactly what he was.

It was getting hotter in the trees. Mat sat down under a tree to rest and looked up at the branches, when he was warned by a rustle in the bushes behind him that there was someone there. He scrambled for a knife and backed away from the bushes, but it was a sign of his distraction that he promptly tripped over a root and fell over, hard. Mat swore and was getting to his feet when a figure darted out of the bushes. Moments later, he found himself flat on his back on the ground again, with Tuon smiling down at him. He scowled viciously and shoved her foot off his chest. Her smile was unbearably smug.

"It seems that you are not as good as they say," she said, and Mat noted the absence of her usual "Toy." Mat made a noncommittal noise, but felt his cheeks heat slightly. He cursed himself for being so unaware. She could have been a murderer, or a wild animal, or a Darkfriend…at least it was only Tuon. Mat grimaced. Perhaps "only Tuon" was not the best way to describe that. He would almost rather face a Darkfriend than embarrass himself in front of Tuon. She would never let him live this down.

Tuon watched him as he got up and brushed the dirt off his clothing, carefully not looking at her. Her gaze was intense. Finally, he slowly looked up at her. "What are you doing here, anyway? How did you know I was here?"

Tuon's face was unreadable, but he thought she might have hid a smile. "My spies have been following you. After all, I must watch over my assets. I thought that since you were at last on your own, it might give us the chance to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you," Mat said roughly, though he was dying to know the identities of these mysterious spies, and how he had not noticed them. "And you had best tell your spies to lay off. I'm leaving Altara, and if I catch them, you won't like what I do to them." It was an empty threat – if he hadn't caught them by now, he most certainly would not any later. There were more places to hide outside the city, anyway.

Tuon shook her head, smiling, as if he were a rather dim-witted child. "You cannot simply leave the Palace. You are the Prince – you have duties to your people."

"My people are that way," Mat said, waving a hand vaguely in what he thought was an eastern direction. "Your people are not mine."

Tuon looked disconcerted for the first time since he had known her. Really disconcerted. Actually, he felt rather proud of himself. Perhaps he was finally managing to find ways to get under her skin as she got under his. She bit her lip slightly, then wiped her face smooth again, perfectly expressionless. Suddenly she was all poise and self-possession again, once more with a plan. "If you help me, you will help your people. Your land is being ravaged – our armies can save it…"

Mat shrugged, pretending he didn't care. "Their problem, isn't it? I don't see how I can help you."

Tuon's temper flared for a moment. "Perhaps I misjudged you," she snapped. "I thought that you possessed some sense of responsibility, but it seems I was wrong." She turned, cool once more. "Perhaps I will return later, when you have decided you are willing to grow up and take responsibility. I am not ready to give up on you, yet."

Mat looked after her with a small sense of disappointment. Perhaps he had wanted her to fight harder. Half of him wanted to be convinced, wanted to follow – but he didn't want to cave in quite so easily. He resolved to wait until she decided to return. She would, wouldn't she? She had said she wasn't going to give up on him. A sudden sense of hesitation flickered. His mouth opened, and he heard himself call after her, with a small amount of humiliation at bending his neck for this woman, "I miss you, Tuon."

She turned, her eyes full of something like triumph, but also like relief. She smiled slightly, but there was a slight uncertainty, as though she were flickering on the edge of a decision. Then she seemed to make it, and came back toward him until she was right in front of him. She looked up at him, her face solemn. "If you will not return for my home or yours, will you come back to the palace for me?"

Mat looked at her, surprised. It had been the last thing he had expected her to say. He had not had the least impression that she missed him, only his skills, perhaps, or the presence of someone to annoy, He opened his mouth and closed it, at a loss for what to say. Finally, his treacherous voice made the decision for him. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes, I will come back. For you, Tuon." Gaining some control of himself, he added, "So long as you don't act like I'm your pet, or call me Toy, I will. I'm not a dog, Tuon."

She smiled up at him and smoothed her dress absently, looking embarrassed. "You can only keep a wolf on a leash for so long before it remembers that it is a wolf," she murmured. "But I am afraid you will have to walk back. I have only brought my own horse with me." She placed her hands on his chest and leaned gently against him. Her weight was so small that she hardly felt like anything. "I do have two requirements for you, though. First you must tell me that you love me. And second, you must give me a kiss, as proof that you are faithful."

Mat scowled at her, but she waggled a finger at him. "You must learn to listen to your wife's requests when they are reasonable, my husband. You have run away, probably been with other women, and scared me half to death. The least I deserve is a kiss and a promise of love…"

"Fine," Mat said, his eyes twinkling with a bit of mischief. "I love you, Tuon. And as for a kiss…" he reached down, swept his arms around her waist and picked her up off the ground. Then he kissed her as hard as he possibly dared.

It never ceased to amaze him how much women changed when you weren't watching. The last time he had kissed Tuon, she had been as clueless about kissing as a newborn baby and as limp as a doormat, with no idea of what to do.

It was, frankly, amazing how quickly she had learned.