milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It is an impulse that drives her this evening; an impulse and a restlessness, the combination of which leads her to lay aside her current work and enter Milliways, instead.

Soon enough, the Aes Sedai is settled at a table with a pot of tea gently steaming near at hand, and a delicate china cup in front of her.

As she sips, she observes the bar and its patrons with definite interest.

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"I share your hope," she murmurs.

Not by so much as the flicker of an eyelash does she reveal her thoughts... or her memories.

"It is the most complicated of games that Rand is playing," Moiraine adds. "Harder, in many ways, when so richly laden with layers of nuance, but no less critical. I fear that which served him so well in Cairhien will not serve him now."

"At least now he is not convinced that he needs to do everything alone."

She doesn't scowl, but it is a near thing.

"I think -- and I am hardly alone in this -- that such a change may well be the saving of him, and indeed of us all."

Here she shakes her head a little.

"And he has Lews Therin to help him, as well. Even if that Lews Therin is also himself."

She raises a hand in Moiraine's direction.

"Don't ask me how that works. Even Rand has a difficult time explaining, and he hasn't even seen what it looks like."

"It may, at that."

She arches an eyebrow, and a faint smile touches her lips.

"Is it so? Then I shall not ask."

Moiraine has more reason than most to know the intricate weaving required to incorporate the threads of more than one life, after all.

Her grip on her skirts loosens, finally, and she picks up her teacup with both hands, cradling it with her fingertips.

"You mentioned that Rand's presence alone now serves to push back the touch of the Shadow?"

Moiraine is an overachiever. Raven would doubtless agree, were he here.

But in his absence --

"So I did, and it's something many of the lands should be grateful for, particularly Arad Doman. They'd be in a great deal more trouble than they currently are, had he not been able to save all the rotted grain."

Here she smiles very slightly. It is necessary to take pleasure where one can, when it all may be gone in the next hour.

"He makes it easier to get a good cup of tea, these days, as well."

"Ta'veren," she murmurs, tapping one finger against the edge of her teacup in thought.

"The Pattern bends around him more as matters escalate, it seems."

Nynaeve bites back a snort, huffing out a quiet breath instead.

"I'd say around all of them, as far as that goes."

"There is that, of course," Moiraine acknowledges. "They are all central to what lies ahead... but Rand more so."

Nynaeve merely raises a brow, the rest of her expression remaining composed.

"As I have firsthand knowledge of that, I can't say I disagree with you, Moiraine. But the other boys -- men now, I suppose -- are no less fundamental, even if their role may be smaller. Strange at that may still seem for Mat."

She takes a careful sip of her tea.

"They would not be ta'veren, else."

She thinks of a letter; thinks, too, of the Tower of Ghenjei, and of Mat's role there.

"Matrim Cauthon has hidden depths."

A small smile touches her lips.

"Although he would deny them. Fervently."

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