milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[OOM: Everything is tangled.]

A shining portal flashes into existence, but there is something clearly wrong with it: it flares once, twice, unstable and very nearly uncontrolled.

From the other side, a soft despairing cry slices through the air-- and then Moiraine falls through the gateway as it sparks and dissolves in silver fire around her.

The slender figure of the Aes Sedai then crumples to the floor and lies there, unmoving.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From his table, Cooper sees -- and he doesn't even notice when he stows his tape recorder. He doesn't notice the the fire. Not visibly.

It's only a few seconds before he's on his knees beside her. "Moiraine. Can you hear me."

The only reason Cooper isn't frightened is because there isn't time to be frightened.

"Not real," she murmurs, over and over. "Not real, not real, not real, I must know what is real."

She does not seem to have heard him.

He'd seen the fire, and felt the instability of it -- nothing like her usual controlled and precise magic. Wrong, somehow, and almost confused in a way that no magic should ever be.

He is also there with Cooper, his expression intent...and his hands kept well clear of her prone form.

'Unstable,' he says to Cooper, low and harsh. 'Her arrival -- I cannot risk touching her.' He raises his voice then, speaking to Moiraine. 'Moiraine. You are safe, and it is real.'

Cooper knows -- knows -- it's not smart.

But he's seen this before, or thinks he has. The three days she spent seeing things as River Tam sees things -- he was the one who was with her, the entire time.

Guard, but not Warder. That's him. Nothing special. Everything special.

It's not smart, maybe, but he's reaching out anyhow, a hand on hers, a hand on her shoulder, and if this time is like the last time --

Image. Upper Twin Park, a golden late afternoon in spring. A hand resting on the rail of a gazebo, looking out at the ducks on the lake. The breeze is slight, the sunlight is warm --

The image is, of course, overlaid with concern. But Cooper is good at keeping his head in emergencies. Always has been. And even if it's not the same situation...Moiraine's not the only one it could be helping. Is all.

"Real. 'I know dreams for dreams'," she explains. "Of course it is real, too much is real, there are too many paths and I am caught between them--"

She opens her eyes and looks up at them both as she speaks-- but dark eyes widen abruptly in visible shock as she stares past Dale Cooper at the white-haired figure kneeling just beyond him.

"Thom?"

There is a world of hope and heartbreak in the single soft, shocked word.

"Have you truly come, after all?"

Merriman's jaw tightens visibly. Too much hope, too much heartbreak, more emotion that he has ever heard in Moiraine's voice before.

He still does not quite dare to touch her, not with the memory of her magic's instability still fresh in his mind. So when he finally speaks, it is with a soft, sad gentleness that few, if any, have ever heard in Merriman Lyon's voice before:

'No, Moiraine. I am not Thom. This is not the path you think it to be.'

Cooper doesn't know who they're talking about, but the important thing --

His grip on her hand is firm, and solid. "Moiraine." Cooper's speaking gently, steadily. "It's Dale Cooper and Merriman Lyon. You're in Milliways. You're safe. Look at me."

"Milliways." She closes her eyes and takes a single soft breath, then turns her hand to grasp Cooper's as she sits up, finally.

"Perhaps not safe, but it will do."

She opens her eyes, looking at them, and a very slight smile touches her features.

"I have disturbed your evening, I suspect."

One eyebrow goes up, just a little. 'There are two answers to that statement, I think. One involves understated irony laced with a touch of sarcasm, and the other most emphatically does not. And I will leave it up to you to decide which answer would appeal to you most.'

He says it dryly, but relief is clearly evident on his face.

"What he said," says Dale Cooper, and the only reason it's not a little exasperated is because he's still worried. "Moiraine, can you stand?"

"Perhaps we may take both answers as stated, even if unspoken, then," she murmurs, with something approaching her normal serenity.

"And I believe that I can, although I would not refuse help in doing so."

Which says something, Cooper knows. The worry isn't going anywhere.

He puts a steadying arm around her shoulders and keeps hold of her hand as they stand. "Should we find Nynaeve?"

"No!"

This is said very, very quickly, and sharply as well. Moiraine takes a breath and then repeats, more calmly,

"No. Do not disturb her with this; it is not something that she could assist with in any case, I do not think."

Merriman's brow furrows slightly, at the abruptness of her response.

'If you think it best,' he says, carefully neutral. 'Would you prefer to retire to your rooms here? Or would you rather stay in the bar for the present, at the table we vacated a few minutes ago?'

The question is phrased closely enough to convey another question beneath it. Would you rather be alone? Or would you prefer not to be?

"If you would not mind my presence," she demurs, "then I should enjoy your company, I believe."

Moiraine offers a serene smile to them both.

Cooper doesn't return it. "Moiraine, when was the last time you ate anything?" Beat. "Or slept?"

The Aes Sedai hesitates, visibly.

"No word that is not true," she murmurs, very softly, and then sighs.

"I do not know, Dale."

'One thing can be seen to straightaway, at least.' Merriman looks over at Cooper, quiet and serious. 'I will return momentarily.'

And with that, he heads over to the bar.

Cooper nods, and watches him go.

He doesn't lead Moiraine to the table they were at before. Instead, he chooses one in a corner -- one that's dark, and one that has a good view of the entire room. They'll be less likely to be bothered than they would be out in the open.

He pulls out a chair and says, quietly, "Are you physically injured?"

"I do not believe so," she replies, calmly, taking the seat that he holds for her.

Moiraine glances around the room, as if refamiliarizing herself with it.

"Okay," he says.

Good, the hand resting briefly on her shoulder says, and then Cooper takes a seat.

Merriman has a tray in his hands when he makes his way over to the table Cooper has selected. A glass of water. A simple bowl of soup, with a small basket containing three bread rolls. A plate with slices of fruit on it, apples and oranges. And the ubiquitous pot of tea -- albeit one that is not too strong.

He sets it down on the table, then takes a seat himself and moves the teapot and single cup off the tray for the moment.

She observes this, and then arches an eyebrow at Merriman.

"Perhaps the two of you would see fit to share refreshment with me, as well?"

There is a touch of amusement in her tone.

"I already ate." This said calmly.

Cooper has entertained the notion that whatever caused his change in behavior was something he ingested.

But it was coffee or chocolate, and the coffee hasn't ever done anything before, and not everybody was acting off. And both items are missing from the tray.

Merriman resists the temptation to simply produce a cup for the tea out of nowhere, like a conjuring trick, and instead signals for a waitrat -- not Holly, as it happens. Not from any real desire for the tea itself, but because there are already enough levels of potential awkwardness to face without the additional one of sitting and watching Moiraine eat.

The waitrat hurries off and returns very quickly, bearing the cup in both hands. And so he calmly begins to pour, both for her and for himself, without saying a word.