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[blue_ajah]

Moiraine's chambers in the House of Arch are well appointed and tasteful.

Still, to a discerning eye, it is apparent from the lack of personal touches that they are a guest residence and not a place where she stays enough to have become truly comfortable.

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[creator_raven]

Raven nudges her with his shoulder, just a little, tilting so that he can better see her face.

"You are so certain of that?"

[blue_ajah]

"I may speak no word that is not true," she reminds him, looking up.

"It was Nita's price."

And yet, even as she says it, she sees again in memory that bright, terrible beauty, hears the Whisperer's voice, sees Nita lying fallen on the floor at their feet.

"Blood on the rocks," Moiraine whispers, through a suddenly-tight, aching throat. "To save the world from the Shadow."

[creator_raven]

Raven's arm tightens further, and his eyes are wide and black as he looks at Moiraine.

His voice, too, is quiet.

"Blood, perhaps, is not always death. Not always."

He reaches out with one hand to tug, so very lightly, at her hair.

"And you, I think, are not as you were. It is price enough, that."

This time.

[blue_ajah]

"For her it was," Moiraine informs him, and finally, finally allows herself to lean into the shelter of his embrace. "But she lives, now. It is more hope than I had thought to allow myself. That will have to suffice for anything else."

For everything else.

[creator_raven]

He leans a little closer, voice still so quiet.

"I do not think that is entirely how hope works."

He gives her a minute, or perhaps he takes one for himself.

"It is better, so."

Even when it hurts.

[blue_ajah]

"I do not know. I had not expected--"

Moiraine pauses for a deep breath, then another, steadying herself.

"It was so like what yet lies ahead of us, in my own world, our own war, Raven. So like, in a sense, that I cannot describe it-- although the prophecies have."

[creator_raven]

Raven's hand is light on her arm, rubbing carefully.

It is an attempt to be comforting.

"Some things have patterns, on occasion. It is the trouble with prophecies."

Beat.

"And with echoes."

[blue_ajah]

"Not to mention mirrors," she says softly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"But there is hope, yet. This gives more reason for it, even. And Nita is well, now-- or will be."

[creator_raven]

Raven ruffles her hair, very gently.

"And that is not nothing, I think. Also I am very good at hoping."

He smiles faintly, looking down at her.

"Also at lullabies, if you are needing one. So."

[blue_ajah]

"I am tired," she admits, and the very fact that she is willing to show such weakness speaks volumes.

"And I should sleep, but I do not wish to keep you--"

[creator_raven]

Raven snorts, shifting her a little so that he can stand, then pull her to her feet.

"I am the one that is wishing to stay, so. Move."

He tugs her arm again, lightly, waiting for her to head for her bedroom.

[blue_ajah]

She gives him a wry look.

"You are as bad as a Warder, in some ways."

Even as she speaks, however, Moiraine is gliding along beside him toward the bedroom door.

[creator_raven]

Raven wrinkles his nose at her.

"Possibly that is only because you are very absent-minded."

Right.

Sure.

Well--maybe about some things.

He flops comfortably on her bed, looking up at her.

Waiting.

[blue_ajah]

Moiraine gives him a look, then sighs and settles down on one half of the bed.

She lies down on her side, dark hair spilling out over the pillow as she curls up in utter exhaustion.

[creator_raven]

Raven watches her, looking, for this moment when she is not watching, very old, indeed.

But he is humming, and while she might not need it to sleep, it is still a comfort.

And not only to her, perhaps.