|
Selene would be waiting in their room to confront him when he returned. Outwardly, he was impassive and icy, but inwardly he already felt the inevitable weariness of her jealousy. It grew so tiresome, grating on his psyche without cessation with every episode. Egwene was the love of his childhood, the girl whom everyone had thought he would one day marry, in this life. In this life. Rand smiled ironically as he made his way down the hall, knowing that just several years ago, adding 'in this life' to a sentence would have been ridiculous. Theoretically, it was known that all lived varied life cycles, but to most it was simply a talisman, a phrase, such as praising the Light, that never seemed to truly manifest, as like to Peace to the Shienarans.
But now Rand remembered things which made it impossible for him think in such a manner. The Age of Legends was alive in his mind as it was in so very few others. One of those few others being his wife. Selene.
There was an irony. Ah, Mierin. Lanfear, of later years. His ever jealous love interest, the woman who's beauty outstripped that of any other he'd ever known. Including Ilyena, his lovely golden haired wife of another life. He kept her memory buried deep, but it was one of the first to surface in his remembrances.
It mattered not, now, what anyone called him, and they did call him other things. Dragon and Lews Therin, and Lord of the Morning. The names and titles were as familiar to him as the address Rand al'Thor. Like Selene to Lanfear, it did not matter what he was called, because it did not change that it was he.
But - he had married her. That he would not have expected before, but now... After he had left Fal Dara, he had travelled anywhere and everywhere. During those travels, he had met a beautiful young woman dressed in white and silver who called herself Selene. At times, she had seemed too old for her age, at others, she had seemed to know him too well, but they had grown close. She had said she was out to experience the world, and he had been drawn to her seeming vulnerability against the unpleasant elements of said world. And, of course, to her beauty; there was no denying that. So, not knowing, ignorant of the consequences and of the past, he'd done the unthinkable: He'd fallen in love with her. Certainly not with her personality, her icy cool personality, that was certain, but he'd been trying to forget his friends, trying to forget Egwene, to drown himself in something new, and she'd been there, and she'd been so beautiful. Of course, when he realized what had happened, he'd cursed himself, knowing his fate of madness and death, but then she'd said she loved him. Of course, she'd loved the man he'd been in another life, but he didn't know that, and it all seemed to fall in together, and then there they were. He asked her to marry him, and, eager to set a hook in him for good, she'd accepted. So almost before he knew it he'd had a wife, and then she started letting things, phrases and names, slip. He still hadn't understod, but his memories were eroding the barrier of flesh then, and he started to recall her from before, recall himself from before. In the beginning, he'd thought it was the madness, of course, but eventually he'd remembered enough to discount that. He'd hated himself, and hated her, but it was too late, because he loved her as well. She'd been smug and triumphant, but he'd found himself almost nostalgic with the reaction!
Rand snapped back to himself, seeing the door before him, and realizing that he'd been lost in thought. With a slight shrug, he found that the memories had help to relax him, something of an oxymoron, but true all the same. Opening the door, the man stepped in. And, as expected, she was there. She'd dropped her disguise, revealing her true appearance, the lush blossom of a dark haired, moon-skinned woman in white, full lips and velvet eyes more than enough to steal the breath or even stop the heart. Well, she'd stopped more than one in her time.
"Lews Therin," Lanfear said icily, eyeing him flatly.
"Yes?" he replied with studied casualness.
"Charming abode," she said, with that same manner, "Very... rustic," her lips curled up.
"I thought you'd like it," he spoke, acting perfectly serious.
"Oh, don't act the fool!" she erupted without warning, "Why didn't you tell about them!?"
"I wanted to forget everything about the Two Rivers and that included them. Nynaeve was the Wisdom here, wife. I never once looked at her in any manner you would disapprove of. As to Egwene, she was my childhood sweetheart, but she is but a friend now. You shouldn't worry so. I am yours," he spoke not with excuses, but with complete honesty, as though simply to clear up a manner on a list.
"Your sweetheart?" Lanfear spoke with deceptive softness.
"Are you so insecure as to fear that every woman will steal me away from you?" Rand spoke in the same soft tones.
Her eyes flared coldly, and then her lips twisted in a sneer. Remarkably, it made her even more beautiful. He wanted to kiss her, at that moment, but kept his self control, showing nothing of his desire of upon his face.
"I fear no woman," she said flatly, and then her eyes glinted, "and no man," she finished.
Rand laughed softly, stifling the urge to continued in order to ask, "I asked you below those minutes ago, and I will ask you again. Do you regret that you have gained what you so long wished for? Do you regret that you have me?"
"No," her response was immediate. "I simply worry that you are still so very much you," her eyes went dark with then, "Why will you not accept the Great Lord's offer?"
The direction was unexpected, and he blinked once at it. The Dark One's offer had been with him for several years now. Offer, in formality, demand in truth. He only had so long left to go, until Shai'tan would attempt to make the decision for him. The Seals were breaking, now, but several left, and the darkness was advancing. The Dark One would make the man who'd been the Dragon Nae'blis, the one who answered to none save the 'Great Lord' himself. It would also protect him from the taint, shield him from the madness, and the rotting. It was often that he could shove the symptoms of the madness back, but it was advancing and he knew it. It would be sensible to accept that offer, but sensible mattered for nothing when your soul was the bargaining chip.
"I will not," Rand said flatly. "I have never given myself over, no matter what Ishamael says of it, and I never will, no matter what the Dark One demands."
"You are a fool!" she shrieked. "You'll die!"
"We agreed that we would not try to convert each other, didn't we?" Rand said, lightly amused. That was the truth, though it was a strange arrangement. Lanfear had thought that by his love for her, she could lure him to the other side of this eternal war, but he had proved resilient indeed, and they had eventually agreed that Rand would not try to break Lanfear away from the Dark One if she would not try to make him a Dreadlord or any such thing. She found it rather harder to abide by than he did. She had also agreed not to make a fuss, or give Rand away, during this trip to the Two Rivers, thus her relative co-operation so far, but it did seem to be wearing rather thin.
"Yes, we agreed," she hissed between her teeth, "But you cannot afford to play games for much longer, Lews Therin! You'll soon be dead, if you do."
"Perhaps you'll meet me in my next lifetime," he mused aloud, "Wouldn't that be interesting? You'll live forever, and you can just meet up with me every time."
"I've never known you to entertain such fancies in truth, so I do hope you're making a rather pitiful attempt at humour," she spoke darkly.
"Quite right," Rand was bland, "Of course, I have no sense of humour at all."
"You know what I mean," she snapped.
"I-"
"Wait," she whispered. Rand lifted an eyebrow in a gesture that said 'what it is?'
"I would have noticed earlier if you weren't so argumentative," she said a moment after erecting a sound-barrier. "But there's someone listening at the door. A female, one of those so-called 'Aes Sedai.'"
Rand frowned, stalked forward, and yanked the door open to face, not Egwene, but Nynaeve. Her eyes bulged in horror as she was discovered, and she made a most undignified dash to run, only to be caught in a net of saidin.
"Did you hear anything interesting, Wisdom?" Rand asked with deceptive pleasantness, seeing with shocking swiftness, not an Emond's Fielder, but an intruder, a danger and risk.
Her eyes widened even further, but she managed a haughty and authoritative tone of voice none the less, "I heard things which would condemn you in any court or nation. Just what are you doing?"
"Visiting my home, Nynaeve Sedai," Rand said coldly, "And you would do best to ignore anything that you have heard."
"Why did Moiraine and the Siuan Sanche want you so much?" Nynaeve demanded, "Is it something to do with this offer that your Darkfriend of a wife was talking about! What is she? Black Ajah?!"
"Hardly, " Lanfear said coldly, appearing at Rand's side now, her disguise in place again. She smiled sharkishly before stating, "My name is Lanfear."
Nynaeve gasped, and words escaped her before she could stop them, "We have heard that the Forsaken were free-" she clamped up again.
"We are," Lanfear smiled, relishing the woman's fear.
"Why did she call you - that name?" Nynaeve demanded then of Rand.
Rand studied her for a long moment. She had already put two and two together, than much was obvious, but to say it would be to make it real to her, and perhaps that would deter her from - no, it wouldn't. Not Nynaeve, not even if she was shaking in her boots. None the less, he found that he wanted to say it.
"I am the Dragon Reborn," he said.
She hissed, involuntary loathing contracting her visage, her knowledge of Rand al'Thor contesting violently with her horror of the Prophecies, of history, of any man at all who could channel.
"They wanted you because--"
"They wanted to use me. But I will not be used," his voice was granite.
A certain bitterness entered Nynaeve's eyes, and for a moment, Rand knew she felt what he did. She had not wanted to be used, either, but eventually she had given in and made herself a part of the Tower, even if she still refused to admit that truth.
" I cannot have you speaking of this, Wisdom. You will forget this conversation, and everything you overheard of my conversation with Lanfear, whom you recognize only as Selene," Rand drew upon the Power, and the forbidden arts of Compulsion at once, moving to repress the memories of the encounter.
Without warning, the Power rushed up sharper and harder and with more heat than he could remember it ever having done, even in the moment of his white-hot suicide more than 3400 years previously. Gasping, he fell to his knees, screaming, the Compulsion weave unravelling uselessly in the air, all surpressed madness and pain and memories and horror rushing in on him in a single unguarded moment. He knew not why it happened then, only that the taint overcame him in that moment. He was still screaming, distantly, hearing the pounding of feet of stairs, Nynaeve babbling something, nothing about the things she'd overheard, too horrified to say anything but what she was, and his father was yelling and Egwene was demanding, and Lanfear was trying to keep cool, but it was just too much even for her, and she was starting to panic, and the al'Veres were gasping in horror, and he didn't know why. There was pain, and he was clutching his side, he realized, and they were tearing his coat and shirt away, and then the Nynaeve and Egwene and Marin screamed, and the men were gasping in shock, as well, and someone threw up. Lanfear was trying to keep calm, and someone - Tam? - demanded what this was, and vaguely Rand remember that his side was where the rot had begun, that his right side was liken to a decaying corpse, smothered under thick layers of coat and shirts and bandages, and subtle weaves to block the smell of rotting flesh. He knew they shouldn't be allowed to know, but then, in another moment, he didn't know anything, and the only thing he could do was to let go of the power before his mind was scoured clean entire. The darkness of unconsciousness claimed him.
|