Disclaimer: All characters belong to Robert Jordan. I merely put them in odd situations.
A/N: This came out a bit later than I wanted it to, but at least it's up now, and a good page or two longer than the previous chapter! Yay! Thanks so much for all your feedback and suggestions, and continue to let me know who'd you like to see. (Asmodean's going to be showing up in the last chapter, by the way.) Hopefully this chapter will meet with approval- it's a bit more serious than the first one, but I couldn't really help that.
The Creator heard Matrim Cauthon whining even before the dark-haired young man entered the room.
"...better have a good reason for this, Aes Sedai! Light, I never thought I'd be back here. You're sure they won't answer any more questions? Or try to stud my hide, at that?" he said, probably managing to simultaneously eye both Moiraine and the Finns escorting him with great suspicion.
Moiraine replied with the air of one who had answered the same question many times. "Yes, Matrim. The Aelfinn and the Eelfinn will not harm you, unless, of course, you provoke them."
"Me provoke them? Why, I'll be as sweet as a babe, up until the point they go for my throat."
The Creator just knew that statement would be accompanied by an innocent smile. He heard Moiraine sigh as she opened the door. "We have arrived. I will be waiting for you outside the room- exit through this door."
"As you command, Aes Sedai." Mat made an elegant leg, though the Creator heard him mutter, "If the door's still there when I turn around."
The Creator saw that Mat had brought his ashanderei with him. This did not improve the Creator's already pessimistic outlook on the situation. He also wondered how to address Mat- technically, he was the man's deity, but he wasn't feeling very omniscient, omnipotent, or indeed omnianything at the moment. And it didn't sound like Moiraine had been too clear about why this meeting was taking place, so overawing Mat at the start was unlikely. Of course, he reflected ruefully, Moiraine knows who I am and yet she displays a noticeable lack of timidity.
This fascinating train of thought was interrupted by Mat's greeting. "Moiraine told me you're the one responsible for everything." He paused and studied the Creator. "If that's so- and I suppose it must be-" The Creator knew that he was mentally adding "-though the truth an Aes Sedai speaks isn't always what you think it is-" "-then you've got a lot to answer for."
"I am the Creator." He really wished that had come out sounding slightly more godlike and less 'one-man-holding-fifty-at-a-narrow-passage'.
"Well." Mat expelled a breath forcefully, as if he had been unsure of what to think until now.
"Look, I can explain-"
"Oh, you can, can you? Why me, then? Why did Matrim bloody Cauthon have to be the one yanked in every direction but the one he wants to go in?"
The Creator tried to get a word in edgewise, but Mat's angry speech continued on, seemingly as unstoppable as a boulder rolling downhill.
"Why must I be bound to Rand, bound to the Horn, bound to my fate, always bound to something-or-other every moment of my life?"
"Because what we want is often not what we need." The Creator spoke quietly and with a growing calmness that surprised him. "Without connections, without bindings, there would be no Pattern. By surrendering to the will of the Wheel, you gain a measure of control."
"You sound like Moiraine." Mat said, scowling irritably.
"That's because I wrote her." Mat opened his mouth, but the Creator continued. "I wrote you, as well. And I know that you know everything I'm telling you, you just don't know that you know it."
"Are you sure you aren't Moiraine in disguise?"
"In a manner of speaking, Moiraine is me in disguise. Now stop trying to change the subject." The Creator felt robed in all his authorial authority, now, though he wasn't quite sure why. Something about guiding his creations- explaining to them- made him feel nearly as confident as an Aes Sedai. He had always known the importance of information, though, and since he was in a world of his own creation, he supposed that the sharing knowledge was translated into power in unexpected ways.
"I'm not changing the subject!" Mat protested indignantly, though slightly untruthfully.
"Yes, you are. If you want to air grievances, fine, but I will assure you that there are reasons behind every one." The Creator steepled his fingers confidently.
"If you're the Creator, that means you were behind Tylin and her-" At this point, Mat tugged down his wide-brimmed hat lower and his voice fell to a sulky whisper. "-bloody flaming pink ribbons."
The Creator reflected that he really should have anticipated that particular complaint. "Um... that particular situation was intended for... well..." He cast about frantically for any explanation that wouldn't result in grievious injury to his person. "Character development!"
Mat glared at him darkly. "If you had said anything even resembling 'a taste of your own medicine'..."
The Creator decided not to point out that he had, via Elayne.
"Because I don't chase any woman who doesn't want to be chased."
"I concede your point." And will now change the subject. The Creator only did what he did next out of a desire to steer away from this topic of conversation. Not at all because he enjoyed watching Mat squirm in the clutches of sweet, sweet irony. Nope. The sweet, sweet taste of irony did not factor into the situation at all. "Speaking of chasing, how's Tuon?"
Another glare from underneath the hat brim. "Mysterious. Infuriating. You're the Creator, why are you asking me?" The man was definitely sulking now. And perhaps- blushing? The Creator had to resist the urge to cackle evilly. After all, he was supposed to be on the Light side. People on the side of the Light don't go around cackling evilly. Well, perhaps it had been slightly evil, commenting on Mat's (more successful than he probably knew) courtship of Tuon, but pink ribbons were a dangerous topic that had to be avoided.
"I'll never forgive you for having that Light-blasted wall fall on me in Ebou Dar." Mat said, in a fairly obvious attempt to steer the conversation from his relationship with his future wife.
Yes, well, the fangirls never forgave me either, the Creator thought dryly. That's the last time I'll leave a major character bedridden for an entire book. "I can't promise you no more personal injury, but I do regret the wall incident."
"Can you at least explain 'give up half the light of the world to save the world'?"
The Creator chuckled. "Of course not. The only information I can give you is 'RAFO'."
"Thank you so bloody much. I bloody well love having a flaming painful-sounding destiny to look forward to. I'm not a bloody hero, I'm not a bloody lord, and-"
"You always complain so about splinters."
"Oh, and I suppose you think that 'giving up half the light of the world' is a splinter, do you? I suppose you think that being hung is a flaming picnic, right?" Mat was standing up now, looking quite menancing.
"No. But you can handle it. Each thing I throw at you, you are strong enough to take it. Or you adapt, and learn to take it. You have always been the kind of person who keeps a promise. You have always been the kind of person who will jump into a fire to save a child. You have always had this potential. But now- now, you are in situations where these traits come out." This time, it was the Creator who had gotten to his feet.
Mat still looked angry, but he mulled over the words before shooting out, "I suppose all this was some elaborate plot to help me build character, then?"
"Of course. Although all I really did to your life was raise the stakes. But I don't think that's a problem- after all, you are a gambler."
The aforementioned gambler sat back and contemplated the words for a long, long moment. "Well, then... Dovie'andi se tovya sagain." And with that, he nodded to the Creator and strode through the door.
Perhaps I'll survive this after all, the Creator thought.