(no subject)

[blue_ajah]

It is early in the evening, but Moiraine is not yet in the bar.

Instead, she is in her upstairs study at Milliways. A small leather-bound journal lies open on the table before her, and the Aes Sedai appears to be composing an entry on scraps of paper before writing it carefully on the page.

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[lastgunslinger]

There's a knock on the door.

Roland is standing outside, with River beside him -- completely listless, but for the purple rose she holds in her hands.

[blue_ajah]

She closes the book before her and with a quick weave of Fire, Moiraine incinerates the scraps of paper so that they fall to ash, then disperses them with Air.

"Come in; it is not locked."

[lastgunslinger]

Roland turns the knob and enters.

River follows behind him, looking...docile. And not terribly interested in her surroundings.

"Long days and pleasant nights, lady-sai." Roland's eyes go to River, and then back to Moiraine.

[blue_ajah]

"And may you have twice the number."

Moiraine's tone is serene, but her gaze also flickers to River for a brief moment.

"How do the both of you fare, this evening?"

[lastgunslinger]

"Well enough, say thankya." Pause. "River isn't."

And Moiraine knows why.

"I've a favor to ask of you, lady. You've said before that I am welcome in the Dreaming." Beat. "Would it be possible for you to take both of us?"

Moiraine likely knows that Roland wouldn't ask unless he thought it was absolutely necessary.

[river_meimei]

River is often silent and distracted.

Right now, though, she's completely withdrawn. Her eyes are focused on the floor, but probably not really seeing it. She doesn't look up, and she doesn't react.

Her head bends a little more, absently. One hand is clenched tight around the purple rose's stem. It's just barely long enough to fit in her hand.

[blue_ajah]

She knows that he would not. And it was not an invitation made lightly, as it happens.

The Aes Sedai turns her attention to River, studying her carefully for a moment, and then looks at Roland. She inclines her head slightly in assent.

"It would, and I shall be glad to do so." A pause. "Would you wish to leave now, then?"

[lastgunslinger]

"We would. The necessary notifications have been made." Pause. "Though -- if there are emergencies -- could you notify me?"

River isn't his only priority these days.

[blue_ajah]

She looks thoughtful at this.

"Notes left for me are delivered to me here, as you know. If you wish for word left you at the bar to be delivered to me instead, it might be possible; and in such case I could inform you, so."

"Otherwise, I may endeavour to keep you apprised of that which perhaps you need to know, that I myself hear."

[lastgunslinger]

He nods. "That -- that is good of you, lady-sai. I'd appreciate it."

Roland looks at River, and his concern is evident. "And I think -- straight to the Garden, mayhap? If we could?"

[blue_ajah]

She shakes her head slightly at this.

"The Garden draws its shape separate for each who enters it, Roland. Need is the key. If you wish to remain with her, you must suppress your own vision..."

A pause. "It would be better, I think, if we were to arrive just outside the door, and allow her to enter, in order to see..."

A sudden and longer pause, this time, and a frown of concentration. Absently, one hand moves to her throat. After a few moments, she says,

"I will do what I can, to allow it to be so, that you may enter her Garden with her, if you wish."

[lastgunslinger]

He'd told River about the Garden.

Slight pressure on her hand, here. He doesn't expect her to respond.

"Please."

He doesn't want to leave her.

[river_meimei]

Her fingers tighten on his, slightly. Her too-blank face sags a little more towards grief.

That's it.

[blue_ajah]

Moiraine studies the two of them together, and then nods. The Aes Sedai rises, quickly stowing the small journal in her belt pouch.

She moves from behind the table, and offers her hands.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland takes one of Moiraine's hands, and River takes the other after a nod from Roland.

[blue_ajah]

The Aes Sedai bows her head, and the three of them disappear.

They materialize in the Dreaming itself, in a hallway of arched gray stone, in front of a wooden door bound with iron. Moiraine releases their hands.

"She must go through first, alone. River, do you understand me? You must go through that door." A pause. "We will follow you."

[river_meimei]

Muttered, "She comprehends." A spark of spirit, there, brief and dim, and then it's gone again.

Slow and silent on bare feet, rose still clutched tightly in one hand, she turns towards the door.

She halts in front of it for a long moment, before she reaches out slowly with her free hand, curling her fingers around the heavy iron ring of its handle.

[blue_ajah]

The door into the Garden swings open, and River slips through.

Roland moves to follow her, but Moiraine reaches out to stop him.

"Not yet. Let it shape itself to her experience, first."

[river_meimei]

She's not looking around.

Grass ripples to green. Palm trees are there, where there was only blue sky a moment ago. Honeysuckle and gardenia, rosebushes and morning glories.

Her head is bowed, and her shoulders slumped.

A path of pale sand shimmers into being under her feet, and more, winding in complicated a pattern that never quite resolves no matter how long one looks. Ferns sprout, and wildflowers. A fountain, in the center, overflowing with lilypads.

Everything has the look of a formal garden that has been left untended just long enough for the garden to grow wild.

Something, some wire-tight tension, is gone from her body.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland steps through, and looks around.

And smiles.

[blue_ajah]

As Roland moves to the door, the expression that appears on Moiraine's face is one of sudden and intense concentration, and a faint light appears around her-- and around the edge of the portal, as well.

As he crosses through, she allows the light to fade, and sighs slightly.

Moiraine goes to the door as well, and takes a single step within, waiting quietly.

[river_meimei]

There are a few more roses on the bushes, now. A few more nodding morning glories twining on trellises and spreading over the ground.

Only a few. Mostly, the garden is unchanged.

River's head is bowed and hair tumbling forward, and she sways just slightly where she stands. A step, a second, and she's off the path and dropping ungracefully to the grass to sit slumped and exhausted with her legs tangled underneath her.

Her hand loosens, finally, from the rose's stem, though not enough to drop it. There are small streaks of blood on her fingers.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland looks at Moiraine. It's...naked. Worried. Grateful.

He understands exactly how River feels.

[blue_ajah]

Her glance at River is quick, and then the Aes Sedai speaks softly to Roland.

"Shall I leave you, or do you wish me to remain?"

[lastgunslinger]

He looks at River.

And then looks back at Moiraine. He didn't miss their exchange at the door. "I...if you wish to remain, lady-sai, you're certainly welcome to do so. But -- I'll see to her."

[blue_ajah]

Moiraine studies him for several seconds, and then slowly nods.

"I have no doubt that you will."

A moment's pause, then,

"The apartment nearest yours will be prepared for her. You know how to find me, should you wish to."

[lastgunslinger]

"I do."

A sigh. It's a release.

"Thank you."

[blue_ajah]

"You are welcome, Roland."

A beat, and the barest flicker of a glance, to River and back again.

"Light illumine and protect you, and yours."

She moves silently back through the door, closing it behind her.

[lastgunslinger]

And as soon as the door is closed Roland is by River's side, kneeling.

He sees the blood on her hand, and closes his eyes briefly.

[river_meimei]

The thorns aren't that long, and maybe she's not that far out of herself -- the cuts aren't too deep. Just deep enough to bleed, and smear.

Her chin rests on her chest now, and her eyes are closed.

Crickets chirp, in the bushes and the tall grass.

The blankness is gone from her face, faded into a complex mix of grief and guilt and pain and horror that makes her look years older than eighteen.

[lastgunslinger]

Quietly: "Will you not speak, my dear?"

A hand on her back.

[river_meimei]

A deeper breath, shuddering in her lungs, and her face twists a little more. Her free hand clenches in her skirts.

Silence. Then, "Left her there."

"I don't want to, she didn't mean to -- There and here and it's all wrong." Her voice, starting to rise, falls into a half-sob on the last two words.

[lastgunslinger]

"My dear." It's like a sigh.

"She knew exactly what she was doing."

Because Roland had told her what they did at the Academy, hadn't he. When he'd told Anthy he'd make sure she'd die slowly, screaming, if she ever dared hurt River.

"It will be well. I swear it."

Roland told her he'd never lie to her.

[river_meimei]

Her head jerks up, and she glares at him.

"It's not well!"

Not a shout, but halfway to it, and fierce with strain even here in the Garden of the Dreaming.

"Twenty knives in her brain, needles in her eyes, turn the sky upside down and watch it spin!"

[lastgunslinger]

"I didn't say it was well. It's not."

Still gentle.

"It will be well."

[river_meimei]

Her face crumples, and her head turns away.

She doesn't agree, nor disagree. Not aloud.

[lastgunslinger]

He takes one of her hands, holding it between both of his.

And he watches.

"You've roses here."

[river_meimei]

She swallows, eyes closing with what might be a twist of grief, and nods a little. Her hand is limp in his.

[lastgunslinger]

"I'd wondered what it would look like."

It sounds like Roland approves.

He sits on the ground beside River, now, and puts an arm around her shoulders.

[river_meimei]

She leans into his arm. Not just her hand that's limp, now; her whole body slumps heavily, most of her weight against him.

Silence, for nearly a minute.

Her eyes are still closed.

"Not enough."

[lastgunslinger]

"No. It's not. But the more time you spend here...the better you will get."

Pause.

"This is one of the true places of peace. Nothing can harm you here. No one can get you here. Including yourself."

[river_meimei]

Maybe River was talking about the Garden and maybe she wasn't, but either way what Roland says is true.

Her head settles a little closer against his shoulder. Her hand, resting in her lap, relaxes more on the rose. Her fingers curl around the stem, now, only loosely grasping it.

She breathes.

[lastgunslinger]

Wind in the trees and the grass.

Crickets sing.

Roland, too, feels the Garden's effects...and after a while, a grey kitten wanders up and sniffs Roland's hand, allowing Roland to scratch him behind the ears. They're old friends.

The kitten curls up beside them.

Time passes.

[river_meimei]

River's breathing is slow, now, and steady. She's curled against Roland, in the circle of his arm. She's looking at nothing, dreamily unseeing.

The rose lies in her lap. Her bloodied hand rests on the kitten's back, instead. It vibrates slightly as the kitten snores.

"They'll help," she whispers at last. Soft, sad -- almost inaudible. "Maggie. They'll help her."

[lastgunslinger]

Roland looks down at her.
Fightin' Maggie Fitzgerald.
"Maggie?"

[river_meimei]

Silence.

"She's my friend."

She turns a little to bury her face in his neck, eyes closing, and says nothing more.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland lets a moment pass before kissing the top of her head.

He's done what he can to help her.

Time will have to do the rest.

They don't have much.