blue_ajah | (no subject)

If Nynaeve sets the teapot down very hard in the middle of that comment, it's probably just that her arm was tired.

"Hmmph."

But she settles next to Lan quietly enough, narrowed eyes fixed firmly on the Aes Sedai.

Determinedly, she takes a sip of tea.

Raven snorts, burying his face in his own cup of tea.

He might also fish a few cookies out of his pocket.

What? He is hungry!

Seeing no reason to pursue the question of siblings just now, Lan studies Moiraine instead, over a sip of tea.

"It went well, then."

It sounds like a statement; it's a question.

She studies the surface of her tea for a long moment before she looks up and meets his keen blue gaze.

"It went as well as it could."

A pause.

"Believe me, it could have been far worse."

Nynaeve's fingers tighten on her teacup but, fortunately for everyone involved, she does not throw it at Moiraine's head.

"Could it have been."

Her voice is very level, though her eyes continue to be narrowed almost balefully.

"You will be explaining that further, I trust."

Ear-boxing in Moiraine's future looks likelier by the minute.

This, of course, is the point at which Raven yawns.

And yawns.

It is really rather impressive, to some points of view.

Then he stretches, nose wrinkling.

"I have, I think, not slept for some few days, now."

He turns to Moiraine, head tilted.

"You will, perhaps, not so much mind if I am borrowing your bed?"

And then, without waiting for an answer, he stands and heads into her bedroom.

Surely it is a trick of the light that he looks a great deal shorter just before the door clicks shut.

Surely.

Lan doesn't know Raven all that well, really, but he knows him more than enough to be well aware that Raven enjoys causing a stir.

Which is the main reason of several why he shows no particular signs of even having heard that question.

Instead, "That would seem to be a blessing."

Lan, use Aes Sedai phrasing on an Aes Sedai? Perish the thought.

Nynaeve stiffens a bit as Raven stands to leave, and she does not relax much after the door closes.

She's still waiting for an explanation from Moiraine, in truth.

Her clutch at her teacup is all that prevents her from tugging her braid half out of her head.

"So it would, at that."

Moiraine sighs, very deeply, and then glances from one to the other of them.

"Tarmon Gai'don, on a smaller scale," she says, simply. "But no less important, for all that it involved only a few."

Lan's head snaps up.

He says not a word, but jaw is tight, and his eyes blaze.

"Tarmon Gai'don."

Her voice is flat.

"Tarmon Gai'don, on whatever scale, and you went alone?"

She'll never convince Nynaeve she is not mad, now.

"You're as bad as Rand bloody al'Thor!"

Moiraine's eyes narrow.

"It is not as though I was precisely expecting it," she informs them, a little tightly.

"You won."

It's not a question. (Or, at least, any question is not yes or no.)

She is, after all, here to talk about it.

Nynaeve's stare is still flat and more than a little bitterly angry.

Moiraine might have died.

Again.

Nynaeve will not have that.

"Precisely? What do you mean by 'precisely'?"

It pays to be careful of an Aes Sedai's word choice, after all.

Nynaeve is learning that very well indeed.

"I mean what I have said," she replies, levelly. "I will not deny that I expected there might be some difficulty-- but I did not expect this."

A pause, and a nod to Lan.

"Yes. We won."

This time, goes unsaid.

Ordinarily, at about this point in the visit, Lan would be dropping unsubtle hints that Moiraine should go sleep as soon as the tea was done.

Not right now.

Not with another world's Last Battle newly won.

He says nothing, but his head shifts slightly, and his eyes are cold and narrowed. The question -- how? -- is clear.

Nynaeve merely yanks on her braid, several times in rapid succession.

She is not quite spitting in outraged irritation, but it is close.

For her part, she is too tired to be as careful of Nynaeve's temper or Lan's silent questions as she might otherwise be.

"Light send that we may all be so lucky, in our own world."

Dark eyes meet Nynaeve's, and hold.

"Although there is something you, in particular, should know. It appears that there is a way to Heal death."

Nynaeve's scowl darkens.

"Light send--"

Then she pauses, brown eyes gone wide.

"What? Can--How? How was it done? Did you see? Might you duplicate it?"

Damn it, woman, tell her!

Lan is listening. Very closely indeed.

"It was-- she would call it a 'wizardry,' I believe," Moiraine says quietly. "Nita Callahan. It was she who died, and was brought back, somehow, through the efforts of two others there-- and after she was restored to her body, I was able to Heal her with more conventional means."

She shakes her head, slightly, and the look in the dark eyes is distant.

"I would have sworn it was hopeless, before. I believed it was."

Nynaeve's mouth tightens into a thin line.

"It may yet be, if we cannot find those other two and mimic what they did."

She does not look at all pleased by this fact.

"Though regardless, I will do what I can to see that such a thing does not come to pass."

Even if she has to kill Alivia herself.

Light grant it does not come to that.

She does not tell Nynaeve that she had not actually meant Rand's situation, but Nita's. Instead, the Aes Sedai lets her silence on that score imply agreement.

After all, there are some secrets Moiraine still keeps-- from everyone.

"I know that you will," she murmurs. "And I know who they are, as well; if Nita herself cannot elaborate, I will help you find them. They frequent this place as well, you see... and it is possible to work linked with those of their power, after a fashion."

It's hope. Not much, but more than they've had.

Lan is still stony and grim. And silent, listening to both Aes Sedai.

Nynaeve's eyes narrow again.

Her attention, it would seem, has been soundly diverted from the topic-at-hand.

Then she almost visibly pulls herself up short.

"We will speak of this later, you and I, Moiraine."