(no subject)

[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.

Comments

[creator_raven]

Raven nods once, mouth quirking in a grin.

"Only I am always myself, yes?"

He leans back farther in his seat, stretching out.

His eyes, however, never leave Moiraine.

"We have, I think, known each other a long time."

He frowns, then.

"Though mostly it is not all at one time, I do not think. Some things are complicated."

[blue_ajah]

"Many things often are," she murmurs, very softly.

Moiraine's tone is as weary as her manner, now.

[creator_raven]

"Some were made so, I think."

He studies her carefully, now, waiting.

"It is the trouble with beginnings."

Beat.

"And, perhaps, with things that are fond of endings."

[blue_ajah]

A subtle tension settles over her like a cloud, and Moiraine says nothing for several long seconds.

"Perhaps," she says at last. "Although in essence, it may not be all that complicated, when it comes down to it."

[creator_raven]

Raven tilts his head, unblinking.

"Possibly explaining is helpful, yes?"

Beat.

"This is, I think, not so much a matter for guessing."

[blue_ajah]

Another long silence, and then,

"I do not want to think about it."

Her voice is too flat, too carefully level.

[creator_raven]

Raven's mouth quirks in a wry expression that is not so much like a smile.

"That one, I think, is mostly a choice of when."

He shrugs, black eyes still fixed on her face.

"Also it is a heavy thing to hold for too long. So."

[blue_ajah]

A small shiver runs through her, and she steadfastly refuses to meet his eyes, looking down at the floor instead.

"No. It is not a choice of when. Not in this."

Softly said, and utterly certain.

[creator_raven]

"I have said before, I think, that I would prefer you do not unravel, yes?"

His voice is very quiet.

"That is still true. So."

He shifts from the chair to the sofa, legs sprawled out before him.

He is still looking at Moiraine.

"Now is possibly better, for that."

[blue_ajah]

"You have," she allows, and takes a careful breath before she looks up at him.

"It is not..."

She trails off there, thinking, then starts again.

"It is not as though the battle were lost, Raven. It is not. It was not."

[creator_raven]

"No."

Again the corner of his mouth quirks, almost ruefully.

"It is helpful that you are very stubborn."

He does not, perhaps, mean just Moiraine.

[blue_ajah]

"Not I alone. Nita..."

She goes quiet again, and looks down at her hands.

[creator_raven]

Raven nods once.

"Nita, too, yes."

He reaches out, very carefully, and pats Moiraine's shoulder.

"And all the rest, too, I am thinking."

It is, after all, one reason he loves people.

There are others.

[blue_ajah]

"Yes."

At the touch she glances up again.

"It will happen again. I have known that for years, Raven. Years upon years. I have had time to come to terms with it, and to prepare for what I must do."

A pause, and then,

"But I did not expect this, now. Not to see the Shadow unveiled so."

[creator_raven]

There is a moment where Raven goes statue still, fire flaring sharp and hate-bright in his eyes.

He controls it.

Mostly.

His hand rests a little heavier on her shoulder.

"It is a terrible thing, that. And cruel."

He nods once, careful to keep his hand from gripping her shoulder hard enough to bruise.

"And for that, I think, there are not so often terms."

[blue_ajah]

"Not for that, no," she says, studying him carefully now, given his reaction. "Never for the Shadow, never. Whatever the Dark One wishes, I oppose."

In this, there is no hint of doubt, not even the slightest.

[creator_raven]

"It is almost indiscriminate, that."

He huffs out a sharp noise that is not really a laugh.

"But possibly I am much the same--at least when it is That One."

He shrugs, body held carefully steady.

Control is a fragile thing, on occasion.

Particularly when Raven is angry.

"It is an old hate, and deep, perhaps."

[blue_ajah]

She uncurls from the sofa corner, turning to face him and laying one hand gently on his arm.

"Raven, who sets things right," Moiraine murmurs, still watching him.

[creator_raven]

Raven nods once before slipping his arm away, turning his hand to twine his fingers with hers.

His gaze remains level and assessing.

"It is so, that. You know it well."

He manages another quick, slight smile, eyes wide and dark and very old.

"And even I, I am thinking, am difficult enough to see."

[blue_ajah]

"You are no easy being, I will grant you that," she admits.

"And yet it is not the same, to my way of thinking."

[creator_raven]

He looks down, mouth still set in that wry, rueful curve.

"It is the terrible beauty, yes?"

His voice softens slightly at the next bit.

"And the Dark."

[blue_ajah]

"More the latter than the former," she says. "I have known others who have used fair face to hide foul nature... even if never quite so terribly, awfully fair."

[creator_raven]

Raven huffs out a quiet breath, then shifts on the couch a little more, reaching out to tuck Moiraine rather firmly against his side.

"It is different, I think, for things that are not mortal. And That One has mostly never been so."

[blue_ajah]

She tenses briefly, as though she would resist, but in the end does not.

There is something very, very dry in her voice-- almost acidly so-- as she says,

"And still, it is often the part of those who are mortal to face that which is not, for the sake of the world... and more."

[creator_raven]

Raven snorts.

It is a snort of utter disgust and contempt.

"And that, I am thinking, is because gods are often fucking stupid."

Beat.

"Also Powers."

Except maybe Peach.

Maybe.