(no subject)

[blue_ajah]

She wakes early enough that it is still full dark outside, although the first stirrings of birds hint at the dawn to come.

Some few minutes later, Moiraine is seated at the small table in her kitchen, a cup of tea steaming untouched near to hand as she looks out the window, watching the trees and waiting for enough time to pass that she can make a phone call without waking the person she wishes to reach... and without disturbing his morning meditation session.

Comments

[blue_ajah]

She spreads both hands very slightly, palms upward.

[tibetanmethod]

He wants a cup of coffee. He wants to finish that coffee that is cooling down in the mug on the counter.

And he doesn't trust himself to be able to pick up the mug without spilling the contents.





Cooper doesn't quite meet her eyes when he says, "I've made progress, Moiraine, but I'm still very afraid of him. He killed my mother. He nearly killed me. I -- can't just dismiss that."

Pause.

"As much as I might want to."

[blue_ajah]

As much as I might want to.

She thinks of Lan, and cracks in a wall. She thinks of Nynaeve.

She thinks of the scent of napthalot, and of the red rage of Nyarlathotep.

"I understand," she murmurs. "Please believe that, Dale. I do understand."

A beat.

"It was not kind of me to bring this to you before dawn, it occurs to me. I am sorry, for that."

[tibetanmethod]

A small, rueful, near-absent smile, and he doesn't look at her as he picks up the cup of coffee anyway.

(His hand doesn't shake.)

"I'm sorry I'm not a braver man, Moiraine."

[blue_ajah]

She shakes her head.

"You are one of the bravest men I have ever known. You have nothing for which you need apologize to me."

Moiraine glances at the cup in his hand.

"Would you prefer fresh?"

[tibetanmethod]

"No. Thank you. This works well."

It's cool enough that he can drink it faster, anyway -- and this isn't a moment during which he can sit and savor his beverage.

He drinks.




Without looking at her: "Moiraine, your feelings are reciprocated. They've been reciprocated for quite some time now. So I think I owe you an apology after all. And I am sorry. Very sorry."

[blue_ajah]

Would it have made a difference if one of them had spoken sooner? She has no way of knowing.

All things are --

"All things are part of the Pattern," she murmurs, very softly. "Thank you. For telling me."

[tibetanmethod]

Cooper rubs his forehead with his free hand.

"Look, Moiraine -- can we talk later? Tonight or later this week?"

Because once upon a time, Morpheus told him that he had no reason to be frightened of Dream -- or at least no more so than any other creative person.

And Moiraine says that there were things Morpheus didn't know.

And it's not even six in the morning and Cooper hasn't had a full cup of coffee yet. He has to think this through.

[blue_ajah]

She nods.

"Whenever you wish."

[tibetanmethod]

"When's good for you tonight?"

He takes another drink of coffee. "I'm off at three, barring emergencies."

[blue_ajah]

"I am to hear stories over coffee with Major Briggs this afternoon," Moiraine replies, after a moment's consideration.

"Perhaps six, or any time after that?"

[tibetanmethod]

"Six works well."

He'll be a civilian then. He never feels like a civilian in this uniform, which he supposes is as it should be. "And I should catch up on paperwork -- I'm Harry's point man with the BLM and ATF, and that arson case isn't going to solve itself."

[blue_ajah]

"It is going well, at least, I may hope?"

[tibetanmethod]

"There are communication issues," Cooper says, succinctly.

Cooper hates the BLM and the ATF. It is mutual. And yet he's the one in the department who can speak federalese most fluently -- and he knows it.

"They'll be resolved."

Or else.

[blue_ajah]

"I am certain that they shall," the Aes Sedai murmurs.

"Someday, perhaps, I shall tell you of how Rand al'Thor resolved certain communication issues between the Houses in Cairhien."

[tibetanmethod]

"Is it a tactic I can use with the ATF?"

[blue_ajah]

Perfectly tranquil, she replies,

"It depends on what their reaction might be to you burning the paperwork submitted by all parties involved in the situation at hand."

[tibetanmethod]

Very seriously:

"Moiraine, that may well be a felony."

[blue_ajah]

"Then it seems likely that it might not be the best option for you in this matter."

[tibetanmethod]

"As satisfying as it might be," Cooper agrees, "I think I'll have to find another tactic."

He finishes off his cup of coffee and puts the mug in the sink. "Thanks for the joe, Moiraine." There's a briskness to his manner that's a clear retreat into professionalism. He knows it. He figures she knows it.

And he also figures she'll forgive him for it.

"See you at six?"

[blue_ajah]

She inclines her head to him.

"You are welcome."

Moiraine remains where she is, to all appearances perfectly calm and composed once more, her serenity surrounding her like a warm winter cloak.

"Six it shall be. Walk in Light, Dale."

[tibetanmethod]

"Likewise, Moiraine."

The sun is up as he gets into his car and pulls out of the driveway, aimed for the station.

[blue_ajah]

Some minutes pass before she moves. Moiraine tends to the empty mug and the coffeepot with thin threads of Water and Fire, then returns them to their places and glides from the kitchen through the cozy sitting room and down the hallway to her chamber.

She crosses the room to the vanity table on the far side, and rests her fingers lightly on the carved pinewood box, barely the size of her hand, that resides there. Moiraine flips the latch with her thumb, raises the lid, and looks down at the glossy black feather lying on the bed of blue velvet lining.

The Aes Sedai considers it for several moments, then glances up. Her eyes meet those of her image reflected in the mirror, and something firms in her glance.

The latch slips home with a faint metallic chime as she closes the lid and leaves the room.

She has made enough poorly-thought calls for one day.

[tibetanmethod]

The benefit of being in at six is that the station is quiet. Hawk won't get in for another hour. Harry won't get in until eight.

Cooper gets a cup of coffee, sits at the table in the conference room, and watches the world continue to lighten.

Dream -- Morpheus -- promised him, in that last conversation, that he didn't need to worry about being a door, or a venue, for the manifestation of nightmare any longer.

Which, Cooper thinks, doesn't limit the revenge Dream could take if he and Moiraine --




Softly, to the window: "I can think about it."

He's not used to being able to think about it.




And eventually he doesn't have the time; Hawk comes in, notes Cooper's demeanor, and doesn't ask questions, but proffers a bear claw.

Patrol, paperwork, a DV call, a conference call with the BLM (which doesn't go horribly), an 88, more paperwork, and, all told, Cooper doesn't have much time to think about it until his shift ends.

He goes home, hangs up his uniform, and considers making more coffee.

He elects a nap, thinking before he falls asleep that if Morpheus knows, there will be a sign.

[blue_ajah]

She spends the morning as she has done so often over the years, studying her journals and making notes of the half-hidden hints and themes that repeat themselves in story after story, no matter how subtle.

It is a slow process, but a familiar one, and at least in this search she is not driven by urgency; there is time, and more than enough.

As the sun begins the arc of its descent down the western sky, she leaves her small house to join Major Briggs at their agreed-upon meeting place by the river. As she accepts the thermos of coffee that he has so thoughtfully brought and seats herself on the shore to wait while he makes his fly fishing preparations, she cannot but wonder what Siuan the fisherman's daughter would think, were she to see this.

In any case, Siuan's tales relayed in their shared room in the White Tower so many years ago have certainly stood Moiraine in good stead, even if it has led to more of these sorts of conversations taking place on fishing trips than she might ever have expected.

It is not until the light begins to fade that the Major is willing to pack up his kit, and by then the Aes Sedai has filled several more pages in her journal with the stories he has told over the course of the afternoon.