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[blue_ajah]

You're pretty good at keepin' secrets. Joe had asked her that, before he had handed her a set of pages torn from a book.

Coda. Found.

Moiraine walks the glittering shore of diamonds and fallen stars, beside the sea of tears, and the breeze over the water dries the silent, unceasing drops that fall from the dark eyes.

The price is high, to change the Pattern. Is it enough? Has it been paid? She cannot be certain. And now, memory is all that remains, memory and hope.

And so the Aes Sedai walks, remembering Roland Deschain -- in the bar, by the lake, in the Garden here in the Dreaming -- and grieves for the loss of a friend.

Endings are heartless.

Comments

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

Dream appears on the shore, ahead of her. Close enough that she can come to him within only a few steps, far enough away that if she wishes to be alone she can turn to avoid him.

[blue_ajah]

She looks up at him, as she approaches. Her tears have not ceased to fall, but she is rigidly controlled, for all of that.

"My lord."

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

"My lady."

His voice hold all of her pain in it. Deep within, he is wishing that he could cry for her as she has upon occasion done for him. He offers her his hand, and the offer of all the support he has to give is within it.

[blue_ajah]

She takes it, curling her fingers around his, and the desperate strength of her grip is perhaps surprising.

"Roland has returned to his world."

Absolutely even.

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

And perhaps it is not. He has always known that she was stronger than she seemed.

"It was bound to happen. I am sorry, Moiraine. I know that you will miss him, if he does not return."

[blue_ajah]

"He will not return." Still even, although the bleakness cannot now be denied. "I cannot think that ... it seems unlikely in the extreme."

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

He pulls her close,

"I am sorry, my love."

[blue_ajah]

She is very still in the circle of his arms, as though she fears to shatter like glass if she moves.

"'Endings are heartless.'" It has the air of something being quoted. "And duty weighs on us all, I believe."

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

He bends to kiss her hair and holds her as if she was just that; the most precious of glass.

"They can be. Yet at the very end there is my Sister, and I think that Roland will not mind his time to meet her."

[blue_ajah]

As he says this, Moiraine simply closes her eyes.

"... no. I suspect that he will not."

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

"Speak to me, Moiraine. Please. I do not understand."

Because the Book is not his to read, and except for one small line he is no longer a part of it.

[blue_ajah]

She cannot articulate it. She can speak no word that is not true, and she is just uncertain enough now to cling to that uncertainty, and not to seek to change it yet. She shakes her head, blindly, and her hands find a grip in the fabric of his robe.

"I-- I cannot, quite, bring... I do not-- I cannot--"

She struggles with the words. A pause, and a tearing breath.

"He is... fond of your sister."

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

"I know. She is fond of him as well."

And he knows the word that Moiraine did not say, and he allows the word she used to stand for it in his own speech as well. He shifts his arms so that he is nearly holding her up, if she relaxes just a little he could lift her into his arms.

[blue_ajah]

"That is ... good to know." Her tears, which had slowed, begin to fall faster once more, and she bows her head slightly.

Not glass now, nor sculpture of marble, but woman mourning.

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

So he lifts her, because stars and diamonds do not make comfortable things for mortals to stand on and he can do so with ease.

He holds her, and he walks along the shore with her as he sends love and support to her with physical presence as well as along the Bond.

[blue_ajah]

She turns into his embrace as he carries her, burying her face in his shoulder, and the wind pulls at her hair as she weeps, silently.

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

He continues to hold her, and walk, and in the end he reaches out and summons one mostly human to the shores of the sea.

[sign-seeker.livejournal.com]

Will finds himself on the glittering shore of the sea of tears, pulled from a dream about finding an exam paper blank just before the deadline, and looks around with faint surprise.

And then sees Moiraine and Dream. His eyes widen, then narrow in concern, and he hurries over.

"Moiraine?"

[blue_ajah]

The familiar voice is utterly unexpected, especially here, and Moiraine looks up in shock.

Her face is stained with tears, as her gaze meets his, and she shifts slightly in Dream's arms, silently willing him to let her stand.

"Will Stanton."

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

He sets her down with a final kiss pressed to her hair,

"It is him."

Silently reassuring her that it is not a figment of the Dreaming, and also letting Will know that this is not merely a dream.

[sign-seeker.livejournal.com]

He's frowning at them both, deeply worried now.

"Yes, it's me -- what's wrong?"

His eyes flick from one to the other.

[blue_ajah]

"I am sorry if you have been troubled." Not sorry for his presence, and the distinction may be clear.

Moiraine links her hands before her in a loose grasp and tilts her head, looking at Will. There is a moment's silence.

"Roland Deschain is gone." A pause. "He has returned to his world. I do not ... expect that we shall see him again."

Calmly, as she attempts to maintain composure once more, but the emotion in the dark eyes is far more clear.

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

He sets a hand on her shoulder, but remains silent.

The look on his face begs Will to simply be there; Moiraine's other friend.

[sign-seeker.livejournal.com]

A small impatient hand gesture -- don't worry about it -- as she speaks of troubling him, and he listens.

Softly, "Oh, Moiraine."

He liked Roland, and respected him, but they were never close friends. The same is not true of Moiraine and Roland, he knows.

"I'm sorry."

[blue_ajah]

"It is... surprisingly difficult." She glances away, out over the water, and her knuckles are white from the tightness of her own grip.

A pause. "'Death is lighter than a feather, duty heavier than a mountain.'" The words have more weight than usual, perhaps, and there is a touch of bitterness to them.