(no subject)

[blue_ajah]

She cannot see Raven, exactly, not in his current state. It does not matter. If he is present, he will make himself known; if not, well, the Wheel weaves.

It is not as though Moiraine does not have other matters with which to occupy herself. Currently, she is settled at her old familiar table, studying the open sentences she has written in a new journal, tapping pen absently against page as she considers the notes she is making.

Whatever is occupying her, it seems to be holding a great deal of her attention, but not all of it.

Comments

[cutting_edgex23]

X, with newly shoulder-length hair and a Security badge pinned to her belt, approaches.

"Hello."

Beat.

"You are working?"

[blue_ajah]

"I am," she says, tranquilly, "but it is not the sort of thing that will suffer for delay."

A pause.

"You have changed your hair."

[cutting_edgex23]

"It burned off," X says, very simply.

"But it is growing back."

[blue_ajah]

Her eyes narrow.

"I see."

Another pause.

"Here, or elsewhere?"

[cutting_edgex23]

"At home. It is okay."

Beat.

"It is relevant?"

She is curious.

[blue_ajah]

"It is possible that I might not know, unless I were to ask," Moiraine tells her. "And you will admit, I think, that this is something of an unusual place."

[cutting_edgex23]

"I do not get hurt here," X says.

Carefully.

Because it is true.

[blue_ajah]

"I am pleased to hear that, at least," she says.

[cutting_edgex23]

"You have been? Hurt."

It seems a reasonable question to X.

[blue_ajah]

A slight smile curves her lips.

"Here, or elsewhere?"

[cutting_edgex23]

"Here," X says.

She knows the kind of world Moiraine comes from. Lan is good for that.

[blue_ajah]

"Yes," Moiraine says, simply. "Although it has been some time."

[cutting_edgex23]

"But you are not dead," X says.

Moiraine does not smell right for that.

"It is likely to happen again? To you. Here."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew knows that look.

He pauses, a polite few feet away so as not to read what she's writing (and then involuntarily tries to anyway).

"Hi, Moiraine."

[blue_ajah]

A small smile touches the corners of her lips as she watches his curiosity overwhelm him.

"Good evening, Andrew. Light illumine."

[stilljustandrew]

"You too," he says, and glances at the book again. "What're you working on?"

[blue_ajah]

"It is a history, of sorts," she tells him, and even turns the journal so that he can see the few notes yet written.

[stilljustandrew]

No further invitation's needed; he steps a little closer and leans to look. The words "lumber industry" catch his eye, and then "grove in forest outside of town," and the name "Pete Martell".

This doesn't look like anything of her world to him.

"A history?"

[blue_ajah]

"A history," the Aes Sedai confirms. "Of the place known as Twin Peaks."

[stilljustandrew]

"-- oh!" He brightens a little. "Where Dale Cooper's from."

[blue_ajah]

She inclines her head in assent.

"He has been very helpful."

In many ways.

[stilljustandrew]

"So is that what you've been up to lately?" he asks with interest. "Writing a history?"

[blue_ajah]

"In part," Moiraine agrees, gesturing gracefully to a chair in clear invitation as she does so. "Settling in, for another, I suppose."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew slides into the chair thankfully.

"Settling in -- here, you mean?"

[blue_ajah]

She shakes her head, very slightly.

"In Twin Peaks."