Leavetaking Part 3

Summary: Moiraine and Lan arriving to kick butt, followed by the time in between Moiraine throwing the Winespring Inn at the Trollocs, and dawn the next day.

Note. Longer than intended, and writing action/fight scenes isn't my forte, or favourite thing to do. However, have 3000 words of fairly dramatic angsty fun.

Lan and Moiraine arrived to chaos, screams echoing into the night as Trollocs were already flooded into the village from the mountain path. Light, there were already so many injured. Moiraine instinctively reached for Saidar and Lan tensed next to her. If they didn't help in some way, finding Rand and the others would be nearly impossible in this slaughter. "We have to find them," Moiraine spoke, just as much to herself as to Lan.

It didn't take long to locate Egwene and Nyneave, the latter's piercing scream rebounding across the village square. Moiraine looked over to see a Trolloc standing right in front of them. She quickly weaved her hands together and a shot of lighting flashed across the clearing, wrapping itself around the Trolloc and constricted in such a way that in less than a second, the Trolloc was essentially ripped in half. Blood splattered across the faces of Nyneave and Egwene, their mouths open in awe as they locked eyes with Moiraine.

Content that the two of them were no longer at immediate threat of death, Moiraine brought her focus to the rest of the area. Trollocs were pouring into the square and Lan and Moiraine found themselves almost immediately being pulled into battle. They fell quickly into their familiar pattern, Lan relying on his blade to guard Moiraine while she pulled together weaves of fire, earth and air. Despite the danger, at moments like this Moiraine couldn't help but find some amount of comfort in feeling so much of the source channel through her at one time. The power was immense, and yet it felt like home at the same time; her body on fire with the knowledge that this is who she was meant to be, that anything else was so utterly pointless and without value. She knew Lan could feel some of it, but she wished desperately that he could understand just how intoxicating it was.

They worked in unison, intimately aware of each other's movements. While words themselves weren't transferred through a warder bond, they had found their own ways over the years to rely on it for communication. Concentrating as hard as she was on reaching out to the source, weaving the air around her into a weapon, Moiraine felt a sudden urgency to duck. She fell immediately to the ground in a crouch, hands never slowing, continuing the weave as Lan charged over her, taking out the Trolloc right behind her in one swing of his blade. As she stood back up, she felt a spear flew through the air past her head, impaling itself in the Trolloc approaching her from the front. It was almost like an intricate dance based on trust between the two of them, one they had practised over and over again.

Moiraine closed her eyes to focus and reached out with the one power, feeling the earth as if she was a part of it, pulling parts of it up with her. With a throw of her arms forwards, stones, pebbles, clumps of rock, rose upwards and flew forwards, ripping into the flesh of the Trollocs in front of her and knocking them to the ground. A movement to her side caught her attention and she turned to see one last Trolloc nearing her. With a flick of her head, one of their own fallen axes soared effortlessly up from the ground and towards the Trolloc, hitting it right between the eyes. It fell to the ground and Moiraine found herself with a moment to breath.

As she looked around, regaining her composure, she noticed that the village had started to fight back with whatever they could find. Pitch forks, blacksmith's tools, anything that could be used as a weapon. Moiraine found herself momentarily impressed by the nerve of the people of the Two Rivers, fighting what must seem like monsters from a nightmare to them. She didn't have long to let her mind linger, as more Trollocs were already within metres of them. Lan was doing his best to cut them down as quickly as he could and Moiraine tried to help him; from blinding the Trollocs with light, or sending waves of air at them and pushing them backwards when there were too many.

It wasn't enough, they were being inundated and Moiraine couldn't keep this up all night. She had to do more. Changing tactic, she focused intently on the air around her, all the small charges in between each particle, the cumulation of the clouds above her and the resulting pressure all around them. A beautifully complex helical weave shot up towards the sky and lightening began to strike down from above, connecting with any Trolloc it found, burning them from the inside out. The tree beside Moiraine went up in flames, and she felt a rush of exhaustion hit her.

As he fought, Lan could feel Moiraine tiring, using increasing amounts of her reserves to match the growing number of Trollocs. He could feel her stubbornness flaring through the bond, her willingness to overexert herself to protect both Lan and the rest of the Two Rivers folk as best she could. It was then that he heard it. A strangled scream that caused the hair on the back of arms to stand up, and a tight knot of pain to form somewhere in his chest. Light, he had never heard her make that noise before. He turned to see her staggering backwards, and a deep piercing burn exploded in his shoulder. He ran forwards, catching her before she fell; her eyes were wide from pain and shock, but also held a fierce determination.

"There's too many," he said breathlessly. His statement both full of tactical awareness and worry for them both, but mostly for her.

Moiraine looked at the line of Trollocs that still stood in front of them then back at Lan, her hand reaching upwards to the hilt of the knife that dug into her shoulder. He felt a resolve rise in her, and her expression spoke plainly of her decision. There were so many things that Lan admired in Moiraine, sometimes he was so overwhelmed by her strength that he found himself bending to her sheer tenacity more than he'd like to admit. He found himself so often in awe of her, inspired to fight with as much courage as she did. Even without his oath to defend her, he imagined he would follow her almost anywhere.

Pulling her up to standing, he watched as she drew the knife from her body, throwing it to the ground in furious irritation. She was breathing heavily, and he could feel that she was in pain. She turned to take one last look at him, her eyes glistening from the hurt and exhaustion. Whatever she needed from him, she pulled it from him, and as she turned back towards the Trollocs, he felt her block out everything else except the pure will to survive.

"Light, give me strength."

Over the last two decades, Lan had seen Moiraine do incredible things, things that defied everything he had once thought to be true. He'd also been close enough to see the toll that this took on her, holding her at her most broken and physically feeling her at her most vulnerable. Tonight was to be no exception. She'd drawn so deeply, taken so much, that he'd felt his chest constrict with fear as he'd seen the Winespring Inn collapse in on itself and Moiraine falling to her knees as a result. He'd managed to get to her just in time as she hit the ground, throwing his body over her to shield her from the debris, her body limp and unconscious beneath him.

Now, as the dust began to settle, Lan moved his arm from shielding her head. Her eyes were closed, but the steady rise and fall of her chest reassured him, as did the familiar soft but strong feeling that Lan sensed whenever Moiraine was asleep. A quick check of their surroundings gave Lan confidence that Moiraine's last effort had brought the remaining Trollocs to the ground and that she'd achieved her aim. For now, they seemed to be safe, because of her.

Lan turned his attention back to Moiraine. Tentatively, he pulled back the fabric of her cloak where the knife had plunged into her flesh, feeling a small stab of pain in his own shoulder as he did so. Moiraine winced slightly beneath him, but it wasn't enough to wake her. The wound was about a hands-width across, and a thick black liquid oozed out of it. Lan cursed softly under his breath at the sight of it; this would make the next part of their journey so much harder. Finding another Aes Sedai out here would likely mean a detour from their path to the White Tower, not something he could see Moiraine easily agreeing to.

The village was still cast mostly in darkness. Where Bel Tain lanterns had delicately lit the village square only an hour ago, the remaining buildings were now lit by the flames of small fires that had broken out during the fight. The vast majority of the light was coming from the large tree in the middle of the clearing, it's branches still burning furiously. The sight was too familiar to Lan, and he allowed himself to be momentarily sad for the people of the Two Rivers. Their quiet life had been so brutally assaulted, and from his own experience, he knew how much time and effort it would take for the community to even begin to start healing from it.

A quietness had fallen, the only sounds the slow movements of people picking themselves up and checking the wounds of both themselves and their loved ones. A few sobs of grief broke out here and there, but mostly a desperate fear of any noise bringing more Trollocs to the village choked the air. Lan gently lifted Moiraine into his arms and stood up. There was nothing he could do here now, except tend to Moiraine. When she awoke, he knew she would want to attempt to heal as many of the wounded as she could, draining herself further in the process. For now, he had to get her somewhere she could rest and gain as much strength back as possible.

Lan carried Moiraine towards the stables where he hoped Mandarb and Aldieb would still safely be. As well as checking in on them, Lan had left some supplies there, a tactic that had become somewhat of a habit to him on the road in his role as Warder. Too many times in the early days had they been burned by having to leave somewhere in a hurry, unable to return to their room, and having to start from scratch. Moiraine had never once been angry at him, even on an empty stomach being forced to eat sour berries and soups made from various roots and leaves when days travel lay between town to town. As time had gone on, they'd perfected their routines, and those days had grown more and more rare, Lan priding himself on his ability to provide at last a basic level of comfort to both of them now, most of the time.

Entering the stables Lan smiled in relief as he saw the black and white horses nuzzled against each other, together in the same stall, right where he'd left them. Looking around the room, he carried Moiraine into one of the empty stables that was currently being used as a store, and gently laid her down on one of the larger piles of hay. He grabbed one of the smaller bags that he had hung from one of the pegs outside, together with a blanket and a water pouch, and quicky returned to Moiraine. Throwing the blanket over her, he left her shoulder exposed and opened the smaller pouch. It was essentially a 'fix Moiraine' pouch, with only the most basic of first aid supplies. It was never needed for Lan as Moiraine was always there to heal him, but too many times had Moiraine been left with some sort of injury that she'd had to live with until finding one of her sisters.

Lan pulled out a few clean clothes, a bandage patch and a small bottle. Using the clothes and liquid from the small bottle, he attempted to clean the wound a little. Far from being a talented healer, he could at least do a basic attempt to slow the infection that would undoubtably grow and fester if left. Lan's brow furrowed and a sigh escaped from between gritted teeth as he assessed the damage. The wound was deep and worse than he'd feared. They had a few days at most to find another Aes Sedai.

Moiraine groaned in her sleep and Lan finished up, moving her cloak back into place and pulling the blanket up over her. He pulled a small packet filled with loose tea from the pouch, and after a last check on Moiraine, he walked out of the stable.

Moiraine felt the pain before anything else. It was manageable, but less than ideal given what she knew she still had to achieve tonight. As she opened her eyes, it took her a second to realise she was in the stables. She felt Lan become aware of her waking through the bond, and knew that meant he would appear any second. Closing her eyes for a second, she braced herself and took a deep breath before sitting herself up, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it brought. Right on cue, Lan walked through the door and came to kneel in front of her. His eyes darted to her shoulder and she sighed. "I'm fine."

"I've made tea," he replied, with no indication of any particular emotion.

"We need to find…"

"No," Lan cut her off. He ignored the stare she sent him now, but continued more softly than he had started. "I've been back to the village; it's calm for now. We can afford another half an hour to give you as much strength as possible."

Moiraine knew he was correct. She trusted his instinct to know if they were in any immediate danger, and it was in everyone's best interests if she didn't keel over on the way back to get Rand and the others. Begrudgingly she nodded.

"Come," Lan said. He offered his hand, which she took, and together they rose from the floor. Lan nodded towards the door and Moiraine could see a small campfire waiting for her, a small collection of rations and two cups laid out next to it. She couldn't help the rush of gratitude that swept her, and saw Lan smile slightly in response. He followed her out, and no sooner had she sat down next to the fire, she felt him place a blanket loosely around her shoulders. Sitting down next to her, he handed her one of the cups of tea, wordlessly demanding that she start drinking.

They sat like that for a while, not saying a word, while Moiraine drank. Slowly, she began to feel her strength return and the pain in her shoulder dim to almost nothing. "I forget how well this tea works," she said, half in amusement, half in appreciation.

Lan held out a packet of jerky. "Eat."

It was only when Moiraine accepted the packet and put the first piece in her mouth, that she finally felt Lan relax a little. "You're a much better patient these days," he teased.

"I've grown to trust my doctor."

She watched as the light from the fire caught Lan's smile, felt the comfort that her trust in him brought him. They sat like this for a few more minutes, while Moiraine ate a little bit more.

"What's our plan now," Lan queried.

Moiraine gave an uncertain shrug, "we convince them to leave with us somehow."

"Are we still headed to the Tower?"

"I don't see why not. That's been our plan for twenty years."

Lan fidgeted with the cup in his hands and she watched him hesitate with his next statement. "We need to find one of the Yellow Ajah."

"Then I imagine the Tower would be a good place to find one," she bit back with humour, trying to stave off the argument that would undoubtedly follow.

"Moiraine, we're more than a week's travel from Tar Valon, you're shoulder…"

"I'll make it," she cut him off. "If we happen to come across any of my sisters on the way there, we can stop."

Lan huffed but relented, realising that now was not the time to push the issue. "I take it back, you're still a terrible patient."

"Ten more minutes," Moiraine said, placing a hand on Lan's forearm. A small act of deference that she followed with a feeling of warmth and gratitude towards Lan, "but then we go and find them."

Lan looked up at the sky which was growing lighter now as dawn approached, and nodded.