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snelbz · 6 years ago

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Lovely, Chapter 2 {ACOTAR}

A/N: Chaptet 2 is finally here! Once again, this a joint project between myself and @tacmc. It’s similar to our last joint project, Tending to the Fire, but while we swapped off on chapters, these chapters are written by us both. We hope you enjoy it and you can look for Chapter 3 to be posted on @tacmc’s page soon! (Both of us have Chapter Indexes for this story, so no matter which one of us posts a chapter, you can find the entirety of the story on both of our blogs!)

By the time the headmistress arrived at the Velaris Institute of the Arts, Nesta had already been waiting outside the front doors for over 20 minutes.

“Miss Archeron,” she said, giving her a polite smile. “It’s not even 7:30. You’re quite early.”

She returned the gesture as well as she could. She’d actually been here since 7:00, but wasn’t going to tell her that. “Yes, ma’am. Just excited to get my studio set up.”

She unlocked the door and held it open for her. “Well, be my guest. You know well where your studio is. I’ll have a set of keys for you this afternoon. Oh and Nesta?” She said, as she walked by. “Welcome back to VIA.”

The smile that graced her features wasn’t forced for once. “Thank you, Mrs. Birch.”

The older woman gripped her hand and smiled at her warmly. “I’m not your instructor anymore, Nesta. It’s Alis.”

Nesta nodded at her and squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Alis.”

As Nesta walked through that halls of her alma mater, she couldn’t believe that her dreams were beginning to come true. All she’d ever wanted to do as a girl was dance. When her mother had died, the only way she managed to her through it was by throwing herself into her art. Feyre had her painting and Elain leaned on their father, useless as he was, but Nesta found the only way she could lose herself was in the music.

Not much had changed in the years since.

Except now she was hoping to have the same effect on her students that her instructor had on her.

As she rounded the corner to her studio, the memories flooded her.

She had spent many mornings, afternoons, and nights in this very room.

She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the air conditioner running in the hall. She could hear a piano being played down the hall and it was almost as if she was transported back in time. If she focused hard enough, she was sure that she’d be able to hear the song she used for her Senior Showcase, the song that reverberated through this studio for months on end.

Instead, she was ripped from her memories by the sound of a drum kit from somewhere down the hall.

Her eyes flew open and she set her purse and supplies on the desk - her desk, she reminded herself and made her way down the hall towards the music wing.

She found the double doors, which were designed to be sound proof when closed, wide open, allowing the crash of the symbols to carry down the hallway towards her studio. And there, sitting behind the drum set, was the man who had ruined her suede shoes the night before.

As a greeting, she said, “You have got to be kidding me.”

The drumming quickly, and awkwardly, faded away as he looked up, meeting her dumbfounded stare with a sly grin.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said, with a wink. “Fancy meeting you here. Following me?”

She did not have strong enough words for the anger brewing inside of her.

“Please tell me you broke in and are about to make a highly illegal escape with these instruments?”

He glanced around the room before meeting her gaze again and standing up from the drum set. “Seeing as most of these instruments belong to me, I don’t think I need to do anything highly illegal to take them anywhere. But I must say I’m partial to how they’re set up, wouldn’t you agree?” He stopped in front of her and gazed around the room. “The acoustics in here are wonderful.” Nesta tried to keep her lip from curling, she really did. “You must be our new madam.”

Nesta blinked. “Madam?”

He turned away from her and stepped across the room, leaning against his desk. Mr. Nazari was spray painted across the front. “You know, the new ballet instructor? Or, I guess, all forms of dancing?”

Nesta blinked, again, unable to help the humorless laughter that fell from her lips. “I…”

“Take your time,” he grinned, sitting on his desk. “I’ll wait. I’m Cassian, by the way.”

“Nesta. I’m Nesta Archeron. And yes, I’m the new instructor of dance.”

Cassian chuckled and pulled his hair back into a messy bun at the back of his head. “Well in case no one has told you, Nesta Archeron, welcome to the Velaris Institute of the Arts. They call me the ‘Master of Music’.”

Nesta bit off the retort she wanted to spit at him that this was her home first, not his, and instead asked. “Master? That’s a pretty prestigious title to give yourself.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, crossing the room and sitting at the piano. “I didn’t give it to myself.” His fingers danced lightly over the keys, playing out a soft melody. “You can close the doors on your way out. I wouldn’t want to disturb your routine.”

He winked at her and Nesta tried ignore the butterflies in her stomach when he looked at her.

She turned and left his studio, the sound of the piano following her back into the dance wing. She pulled the double doors shut behind her and leaned back on them, closing her eyes.

Silence filled her senses.

She had been dreaming of returning to VIA for years and finally, she was here. She was going to focus on those dreams and help her students’ dreams become a reality, too.

And she was going to do it all, while pretending the handsome man down the hall didn’t exist.

Feyre woke up the next morning with a slight headache. She didn’t think she had drunk that much, but it had been a few years since she had stumbled into a bar for a drink. She couldn’t help it. She kept asking for another because she was enjoying herself.

Thanks to the bartender.

Rhysand.

He was kind, surprisingly.

She didn’t think that men who looked so sexy and seductive could actually be decent human beings. Typically, such men were assholes. Speaking of dickwads, she checked her phone and saw that she had countless missed calls and texts from Tam.

With a curse, she crawled out of bed, unable to stop her mind from wandering to a man that was not her boyfriend.

Even though she wasn’t even sure where they stood after she stormed out of the restaurant the night before.

She was still pissed. She didn’t want to call him back, didn’t want to text him. She wanted to take her hand and slap his face like they did in old, cheesy soap operas.

He deserved a good slap.

Or a push down the stairs.

Neither of those facts stopped him from knocking on her door as she walked into the kitchen for an Advil.

She left him hanging for a moment, though. She may not have had the nerve for a slap, but she could leave him knocking for a minute or two.

“Feyre!” he called, knocking as she took a couple of pain killers. “It’s me, baby. Open up!”

She did.

“Let me in,” he pleaded.

She did that, too.

He looked handsome, she’d give him that. He wore his sweatpants, his sweatshirt, his beanie. Feyre preferred him this way as opposed to his business attire. When he put on the suit, he changed.

At first, their relationship was amazing. She had thought he was the one. Lately, though, he was a different person. Controlling. Demeaning. It was usually worse around his colleagues. When he was in his suit and tie.

“You never called me back,” he said, tossing his keys on her kitchen counter.

“I was busy,” she shrugged.

His eyes narrowed. “Doing what?”

“Does it matter?” she snapped. “You already have a thought in your mind about what happened. You always do that. Accuse me. I have been nothing but loyal to your greedy ass for the last year and a half and what do I get in return? Called fat while being treated like your bitch in front of all your friends.”

Tamlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he walked to Feyre. He stopped in front of her and brushed her cheek with his fingers. “I’m sorry, baby. Forgive me, please.”

“Yeah, well,” she began, but the bite in her voice had vanished with his touch. “You’ve been saying that you’re sorry a lot lately.”

“I know, I know,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be better. I promise.”

“I want to believe you…” she trailed off because their eyes had connected and his lips were on hers within seconds.

She didn’t fight it. She didn’t push him away. She let him kiss her, let him touch her. She hated how natural kissing Tamlin was, even when she was pissed at him.

She wanted to blow up.

Wanted to throw things, break things.

But, instead, she found herself melting into his touch.

“I love you,” he said, against her lips.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled.

“I know,” he said. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“You're promising a lot.”

“I know. And I mean it.”

When Feyre pulled back, he popped into her mind again. His violet eyes, his tanned skin, his black hair that matched the inky swirls that covered his arms, his neck.

“What are you thinking about?” Tamlin asked, pulling her closer.

“You,” she lied. “How glad I am that you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” he said. “Wanna get into bed for a while?”

Feyre hesitated, but then she could see his oncoming anger and confrontation so she nodded.

Tamlin’s wrath was one thing Feyre hated, one thing she couldn’t face.

“I was hoping we could go out,” she said, quickly, hoping he wouldn’t know it was an excuse. “Just me and you.”

“I don’t wanna go out,” he said. “I wanna stay in.”

Feyre raised a brow. “Since when don’t you wanna go out? You hate staying in.”

“Well, tonight I do want to stay in,” he smiled, lazily, as he tossed his phone and wallet on the kitchen table. “Be right back. When I come out, I’ll make it all up to you. I promise.”

Feyre sighed as he shut the bathroom door behind him.

She’d barely made it two steps before his phone started vibrating against the thin wooden table.

One message.

Then two.

Feyre glanced at the name that came across the banner: Brannagh.

She groaned inwardly as she opened Tamlin’s phone and read the messages.

Last night was fun.

Wanna come over again tonight?

Feyre couldn’t breathe.

She felt sick.

How could he come into her apartment and demand answers as to why she hadn’t answered her phone, after he’d been an ass, when he was with Branagh?

Last night was fun.

What a prick.

The moment he came out of the bathroom, Feyre was pissed. Her hands were shaking as she held up his phone. “Branagh texted.”

Tamlin raised a brow as he slowed himself to a stop. “You looked at my phone?”

Feyre scoffed. “Yes! It was ringing and, as your girlfriend, I didn’t think that it would be an issue.”

Tamlin calmy reached over and took his phone, reading the messages for himself. His eyelids fluttered shut. “Feyre-”

“Did you sleep with her?”

He didn’t answer right away. “Feyre…”

“Answer me!”

Tamlin stayed quiet for a minute, shoving his hands into his sweatpants. “You were pissed at me. I thought we were through.”

Feyre laughed, humorlessly. “You slept with Branagh because you thought we were through? Wow, Tam.” She was speechless, completely unsure of what to say. But when he tried to take a step toward her, Feyre took a big step back. “Don’t come near me. Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me. And get out of my house.”

“Feyre, baby-”

“Get out!” she yelled, taking it upon herself to throw the door open. “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Leave me alone. We’re done.”

Tamlin looked at her for a long while, but she didn’t budge.

Despite her order, he kissed her cheek as he stepped toward the door. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

When she didn’t answer, he left.

Elain hurried to Main Street an hour before her shop was to open.

She was forced to ride the bus, thanks to her car’s mishap the day before. Elain had never known much about cars. Both Azriel and the mechanic at the shop attempted to help her understand, and she nodded along as if she knew what they were talking about, but she had still gone home and gone to bed knowing absolutely nothing.

So, with her purse slung over her shoulder and her notebook clung tightly against the chest of her bright yellow sundress, Elain waved and smiled at the street vendors as she went to work.

Elain loved Velaris.

She loved the friendly people.

She loved that she had found her purpose in such a wonderful city.

As she strode upon her shop and fiddled around in her bag for her key, Elain froze, catching the reflection of the shop across from hers in the window.

Or, the truck sitting in front of it.

Azriel got out of the driver’s side and opened up the door behind his. Elain, forgetting about her key, watched curiously as Azriel wrestled a car seat out of the back.

As if he noticed her eyes on him, he glanced up.

At first, he was surprised, but a slow smile crept across his lips, lighting up his face.

He gave her a little wave as she looked both ways, and hurried across the middle of Main Street.

They were the complete opposite of one another. Him, dressed completely in black, in jeans and an old hoodie; and, her, in a bright yellow that made her brown eyes look like they were tinted with gold.

“This is your shop?” she asked, in way of greeting.

He laughed, quietly. “Yeah. Small world, isn’t it?”

Elain agreed. She had been at her spot on Main Street for nearly a year and never gave the tattoo parlor across the street a second glance.

“And who is this?” Elain asked, bending down to get a better look in the car seat.

A chubby, baby boy looked up at her with fuzzy, black hair and bright, hazel eyes.

“Oh my goodness,” Elain beamed, hand over her heart. “He looks just like you. Is he yours?”

“Yeah,” Azriel smiled, rubbing the back of his neck.

As the sudden realization hit Elain of what has to happen to make an infant, she blushed. Not that she had expected anything to happen between her and Azriel - she hadn’t even expected to see him again - but after their lunch the other day, she thought they had really connected. She had never thought that there would be another woman in his life.

“How old is he?” she asked. “What’s his name?”

“Asher,” Azriel said, smiling down at his son. “Six months. We only have a few hours together before I have to bring him back to his...mother’s, but I just had to run into the shop to grab my deposits before we went to the park for a while.”

She noted the way he cringed when he said mother’s, but didn’t ask. No matter how much she wanted to.

“Well, you two have a fun time together,” she smiled and leaned down again to see Asher. “It was nice to meet you, cutie. Yes it was.”

Asher giggled and kicked his feet, making Azriel laugh. “He likes you.”

“Is he the only one?”

The question flew out of her mouth in the excitement, but once she began to stutter a follow up retort, Azriel’s smile softened. “No. No, he’s not.”

Elain’s cheeks were burning so hotly that she glanced down at her vintage mary-janes to hide them.

“Would you like to join us?” Azriel asked. “At the park? I know it’s not that exciting, but it’s a nice day.”

It was a perfect day. The sun was high, not a cloud in sight.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Elain shook her head.

Azriel’s eyes dimmed, but his smile remained. It couldn’t have been easy being a single father, and when Elain realized he thought he was being rejected, she caught herself. “Oh, no! I just...I open the boutique in a few minutes,” she said, gesturing to her shop behind her. “But, I mean, if you don’t have plans….tonight?”

Azriel looked away from Asher, who was still smiling and kicking his feet. “I’m working late tonight. Tomorrow? Around seven?”

Elain nibbled on her lip as she nodded. “Tomorrow sounds lovely.”

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neuxue · 5 years ago

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Wheel of Time liveblogging: Towers of Midnight ch 3

I have been waiting for this reunion for literal years. It did not disappoint.

Chapter 3: The Amyrlin’s Anger

Oh, we’re doing this!?

One thing I can guarantee: I am definitely not ready. Childhood friends turned childhood sweethearts turned near-siblings turned uneasy allies turned near-enemies, perhaps turned uneasy allies once more, with prophecy and opposing institutions and the apocalypse hanging over them?

I’m just. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a lot of thoughts about this whole dynamic, and I have been waiting for this… probably since they last saw each other in Lord of Chaos. Before that, even. Since they were set on their separate paths, but with this thread, strained and near at times to breaking but a thread all the same, of some kind of love between them that might, in the end, be enough to do what their predecessors could not, and face the end together.

Also their stories have been running in this fascinating not-quite-parallel for so long but they haven’t interacted in so long that I’m just! Very excited for this reunion and the pain it will no doubt bring!

I should start reading now, shouldn’t I?

Egwene floated in blackness. She was without form, lacking shape or body. The thoughts, imaginings, worries, hopes, and ideas of all the world extended into eternity around her.

The imagery of that last bit catches my attention here because it plays very close to the position Rand holds: stood at the centre, a force, or a being more than a person, touching all the world or – in Egwene’s case – all the world’s dreams. It’s just an interesting one, in amongst all the other parallels and inversions between them.

Though her feelings for Gawyn were still strong, her opinion of him was muddled recently.

Just break up with him already. Please. You’ve already once decided that actually no, I don’t want a storybook romance with the designated hero thank you very much; you can do it again.

The dreams of all the people here – some from her world, some from shadows of it – reminded her why she fought. She must never forget that there was an entire world outside the White Tower’s walls.

This is her anchor, just as Rand has now at last found his. Or, not even an anchor so much as a reason. Something to fight for, something to remember and strive for beyond the fight itself. And again this places her very much at the centre as well, looking at all the people, all the dreams, the entire world. They just each have their own ways of going about it, and their own reasons for doing so.

Time passed as she lay bathed in the light of dreams.

Just quoting this one because it’s pretty.

It’s sad to see Egwene thinking of the Wise Ones in terms of ‘dealing with’ them, but also not really surprising; there’s been a distance between them ever since she took on this role. They hid the events of Dumai’s Wells from her and she chose the Aes Sedai over them and it is, perhaps, one of the harsher aspects of the way she absolutely embraces her role, the good and the bad.

Ugh, fine, dream of Gawyn if you must.

A more simple life. It could not be hers, but she could dream…

Everything shook.

Or not. I’m just imagining this as the Pattern itself interrupting like ‘EGWENE, PLEASE. YOU CAN DO SO MUCH BETTER THAN HIM.’

(Yes, the Pattern speaks in all caps. No I will not be accepting constructive criticism on this point).

This pleasant dream interrupted by an emergency broadcast: thirteen black towers rising and then all but six falling. In case you weren’t keeping track of how many Forsaken were still alive, I suppose.

And then a follow-up as a reminder, I assume, that Mesaana is still in the Tower.

Unless the eagles-and-snake bit is referring to the Black Tower? Still no idea what’s going on there these days; it’s been a while and I’m very, very curious after that ominous line drop in the KoD epilogue.

She saw an enormous sphere made of the finest crystal. It sparkled in the light of twenty-three enormous stars, shining down on it where it sat on a dark hilltop. There were cracks in it, and it was being held together by ropes.

There was Rand, walking up the hillside, holding a woodsman’s axe. He reached the top and hefted the axe, then swung at the ropes one at a time, chopping them free. The last one parted, and the sphere began to break apart, the beautiful white globe falling in pieces. Rand shook his head.

Innnnnnnnnteresting.

The sphere (and its breaking) sounds – first of all a lot like the Sharom because what, you thought I’d pass up a Rhuidean reference? – like the Dark One’s prison, perhaps. With Rand cutting the ropes like breaking the seals.

Or maybe the Choedan Kal, with all the brilliant light of that enormous power, that he has now broken. Or the world itself, I suppose. I’m going with the Dark One’s prison here, probably.

But what are the twenty-three stars?

Thirteens are common, you can’t swing a cat in this series without hitting a duality, threes and sevens crop up on occasion… but what the hell numbers twenty-three? Except for the graves Bashere once had to dig for oak trees on the orders of the mad general he served, but while there may be no such thing as coincidence, that’s a bridge too far even for me.

Nations? Okay now I’m just curious if I can name them all, so… in the wetlands we have: Altara, Amadicia, Andor, Arafel, Cairhien, Far Madding, Ghealdan, Illian, Kandor, Mayene, Murandy, Saldaea, Shienar, Tar Valon, Tear. Then the Aiel, or: Chareen, Codarra, Daryne, Goshien, Jenn (?), Miagoma, Nakai, Reyn, Shaarad, Shaido (?), Shiande, Taardad, Tomanelle. Then Seanchan and Shara on the edges, the Atha’an Miere and the Tuatha’an, and the dead nations of Malkier, Manetheren, and the Amayar. The Ogier. The even-more-dead nations like Almoth and Eharon and whatnot. But even playing with the obvious ones like how to count the Aiel, or the dead nations, or the city-states, there’s not an obvious 23.

The Hall of the Tower maybe? Three Sitters from each Ajah is 21, so with Amyrlin and Keeper we’re at a much cleaner 23, and there is the whole ‘Watcher of the Seals’ element of the Amyrlin’s role, so twenty-three stars watching could make sense.

Or, hell I don’t know, maybe there are 23 verses in the Karaethon Cycle. Meh.

Well, Egwene’s focused on the Mesaana implications (rather than the Messiah implications; I crack myself up sometimes), which seems fair enough.

“He’s here, Mother. At the White Tower.”

“Who?”

“The Dragon Reborn. He’s asking to see you.”

HERE! WE! GO!

Because you know what this means? It means, once again, that we’re going to get outsider POV of Rand, after a crucial turning point in his character.

Twice. Because first, we got it via Almen Bunt, effectively a random character. We got to see a ‘first glimpse’ of Rand, as it were. But now we get to see through the eyes of one who knows him – or rather, one who knew him. One like him in some ways and so very different in others. An opposing role who once was a friend. There’s just so many potential layers there, through which to observe, and I am inordinately excited for this.

Though okay right as I say that we shift POV to Siuan, so I may be pre-empting this.

That said, it’s either going to be some form of outsider POV or it’s going to be Rand’s POV and either way I’m going to be on the damn floor so it’s a win-win situation here.

The Dragon Reborn? Inside Tar Valon?

I mean technically that was the goal all the way back in EotW, so you could argue that he just took a really, really long detour. Across the entire continent, a past life, and near-destruction of the world, but… details.

“He was at the Sunset Gate”

How appropriate. Is there perhaps a Wind Tower for him to climb?

“What is his game, do you think?” Saerin asked.

“Burn me if I know,” Siuan replied. “He’s bound to be mostly insane by now. Maybe he’s frightened, and has come to turn himself in.”

“I doubt that.”

“As do I.”

Harsh, Siuan. But not entirely unfounded – at least on the mostly insane part. He’s not, but first of all how would she know that and second of all, if this were a few days earlier, that would be a much harder one to argue. (For the record, my own interpretation of Rand’s sanity or lack thereof before Dragonmount is a strong vote in favour if It’s Complicated).

Of, course, then there’s the whole issue of ‘how long can you stay sane when the entire world is waiting for you to go mad’ but that is, perhaps, a moot point now.

“Maybe he heard that Elaida was gone,” Siuan said, “and thought that he would be safe here, with an old friend on the Amyrlin Seat.”

Oh no this already hurts. Honestly I think any reference to Rand and Egwene as old friends is probably going to, at this point, but also the way Siuan goes to this idea of Rand needing a place of safety. A refuge. Because in so many ways, for a very long time, she wouldn’t even have been wrong. It’s just that it wasn’t an option and there was no such place and the Dragon Reborn couldn’t afford that kind of weakness, and anyway he was never looking for safety for himself; it was keeping others safe from him that he wanted, back when he was just a shepherd boy holding himself together with determination and fragments of Warder instruction against power(s) trying to claim him from within and without.

But Siuan is remembering that boy, and I’m also remembering Rand in the early days at the Stone of Tear, trying so earnestly to let Elayne and Egwene help him with saidin, and how that, from a certain perspective, is not really so different from trying to find some safety in friends.

“Reports call him mistrustful and erratic, with a demanding temper and an insistence on avoiding Aes Sedai.”

I mean, up until – what, a day ago at most? That would be not at all inaccurate. Especially from the outside.

Really I think this whole scene with Siuan and Saerin is largely to remind us of how Rand comes across to the rest of the world. Because the thing about that Dragonmount epiphany – a crucial part of it, but one that is likely going to also result in some complications – is that it was unwitnessed. Just Rand, alone, thinking. And if the cleansing of saidin was difficult to believe by those not directly involved (and even by some of those who were), how much harder will this be, in its own way?

And just to set the scene even more ominously as far as anyone but the reader is concerned, the floor tiles are now the colour (and sheen, and probably texture, and very possibly actual chemical composition) of blood.

It is interesting to contrast the feeling of approaching this meeting to how it felt in the buildup to Rand’s meeting with Tuon last book. That was just full to the brim of impending doom, of ‘there is no possible way under the sun that this will end well’, of ‘oh no, how disastrously is this going to go?’ because at that point Rand was in freefall and the only certainty was disaster. Now, there’s a sense of lightness in approaching this meeting. I mean, I’m still quite sure it’ll hurt me, but the actual tension is different. It feels like waiting for catharsis, almost, rather than waiting for catastrophe.

So hey, maybe we just look at that meeting with Tuon as a practice run for Rand in terms of how to negotiate treaties with a woman who controls a decent part of a continent. If nothing else, it set the bar about as low as it could possibly be, so this can only be an improvement!

Siuan had harboured a small hope that she herself would be chosen [as Keeper]. Now Egwene had so many demands on her time – and was becoming so capable on her own – that she was relying on Siuan less and less.

That was a good thing. But it was also infuriating.

Oh, Siuan. Siuan’s thoughts about her position in the Tower and how it has changed are always a little sad to read. She’s so strong that it’s easy, almost, to forget just how much she’s gone through – and she can’t even just put it behind her and move on because she’s surrounded, every single day, by constant reminders of all she has lost and all that has changed. And even so, we only get these occasional moments of sadness or bitterness or frustration from her. The rest of the time she just… keeps going.

She wanted to do what she’d set out to do, all those years before with Moiraine.

It really is kind of incredible dedication to a cause. Even if ‘shepherding’ the Dragon Reborn is perhaps not really what is needed, she has paved so much of the way, and even from the sidelines has been instrumental, and this has been more or less her entire adult life. A thankless and often punishing task, one that has gone and will likely continue to go largely unacknowledged, one that has brought her hatred and suspicion and pain, and yet she does not question it, does not falter.

It's… I guess in a way it comes back to the whole idea of those who choose vs those who are chosen, but I like the way we see these characters who aren’t the Chosen One but who still give everything they are, and everything they have, to this world and this cause. Some because they must and some because they choose to and some for reasons in between but it’s again this sense that while Rand stands at the centre of it, there are all these other stories and sacrifices and triumphs and tragedies spiralling out from that centre, all weaving together into this pattern. Or Pattern, as it were.

Also, I would like to strongly second the ‘with Moiraine’ part of that sentence. Can we have her back yet please? I’ve been good, I promise!

Bryne’s here too, which means I also get to reminisce about the first (and last) time he met Rand, even before Siuan did, but another scene of Rand as little more than a shepherd, uncertain and afraid and getting by on determination alone and yet, as with his meeting with Siuan, still surprising those around him by being just a little more than expected.

(As for Rand’s first meeting with Egwene, we have no textual evidence but given their ages it probably involved eating mud).

“You came faster than I’d assumed you’d be able to,” she said.

That is, quite literally, what she said. I’m sorry, I’m twelve.

“She’s what we need now,” Bryne said, “but you’re what we needed then. You did well, Siuan.”

YOU DID WELL

I’m sorry, Moiraine’s letter to Rand really just loaded all variants of that phrase quite heavily and it’s not Moiraine saying it to Siuan but it may as well be, and to have anyone looking at all she has done and all she has been through, looking at someone most Aes Sedai now dismiss as inconsequential at best and to blame for their problems at worst, and actually seeing everything she’s achieved and everything she’s sacrificed and to just acknowledge it outright is… such a small phrase but it means so much. Because how many others would say that? How many others could? So few even know what she’s done and why and for how long. Egwene, maybe, but Egwene is still in some ways her protégé and so not really in a position to give that kind of praise. Moiraine, but she’s still… on holiday. And that’s really kind of it.

There’s a reason these kinds of tasks are called thankless.

“He’s standing below, watched over by at least a hundred Warders and twenty-six sisters – two full circles. Undoubtedly he’s shielded”

My first thought was ‘good thing this is Rand after Dragonmount otherwise I don’t think there’d be a Tower right now’, but then, Rand before Dragonmount would probably quite literally not have been caught dead within balefire distance of the White Tower.

Whereas now… what a stark difference this highlights in his entire mindset and character. Once, the possibility of thirteen Aes Sedai sent him away from a city he was holding, tense and desperate and furious. Once, being shielded was – well, I believe the direct quote was ‘Lews Therin fled screaming’. Once, Aes Sedai so much as touching the One Power in his presence without his permission was like dancing on a minefield.

Now… he stands calmly, shielded and within the Tower itself, the stronghold of the Aes Sedai, of his own free will (and that’s it, isn’t it; that’s what truly makes all the difference in so many ways).

Also a bit of a random comparison but I can’t help but be reminded of Taim walking into Caemlyn to claim Rand’s amnesty, guarded and distrusted and hated by pretty much everyone around him and yet appearing, himself, all but unaffected by it.

“Well, what did he look like, then?”

“Honestly, Siuan? He looked like an Aes Sedai.”

Well. Lews Therin was. In an even older sense of the title.

And if we’re looking at the title itself, and its meaning… servant of all is sort of in the job description of a messiah figure, in a way.

I like how we’re reminded that, because of her Talent for seeing ta’veren, Rand literally glows to Siuan’s eyes. Which means the Dragon Reborn, the chosen one, the saviour, having now fully embraced his role, is walking into the Tower literally haloed in light. There’s just a tiny bit of religious symbolism here, is what I’m getting at.

I also – for all that I’m still hoping for a glimpse of Rand through Egwene’s eyes – am very very happy with the choice to show this through Siuan’s POV. Because in so many ways it is a reflection of that scene in TGH where he is summoned to the Amyrlin, and she gets her first look at the boy who will be the Dragon but does not yet know it, and tells him what his role will be, and he surprises her in his stubbornness and strength but still does not truly accept what she says.

Now, we get the Dragon Reborn calling for an audience with the Amyrlin, having finally and truly embraced the full reality of that role. The first was, in a way, to set his path. This, then, feels almost like closing it. And in between those bookends was that long, fraught journey towards acceptance.

Me? Obsessed with symmetry and reflection in a narrative? Never.

She froze as he met her eyes. There was something indefinable about them, a weight, an age. As though the man behind them was seeing through the light of a thousand lives compounded into one. His face did look like that of an Aes Sedai. Those eyes, at least, had agelessness.

This is one of the things I just absolutely love about outsider POV: the way it allows you to almost re-experience the full weight of what you already know. To be able to almost… soft-reset, and then open your eyes and have the impact of it all over again. None of this is news, really, to a reader who has seen Rand atop Dragonmount, or even in the first chapter of this book. But we get it again anyway, because for one thing it’s fun and for another it just serves to highlight what he looks like to one who does not have the privilege of being in his head (not that that’s… a particularly exclusive list these days, but that’s beside the point).

And it’s also interesting how this doesn’t humanise Rand in the perception of others – he’s still very much in the position of being seen more as a force of nature than a person – but the tone and the effect are so very different to before, for instance when he was lost or in pain or just desperate (or all of the above) and yet perceived as arrogant, inhuman, even monstrous. There’s still this sense of… not being seen as just a person, being seen more in the heroic lines and angles of power and weight of legend, but the difference, I think, is that Rand himself accepts it now. It is now a part of who he is, and a part of him he accepts, and embraces, and steps willingly into.

It also gives him some rather extraordinary weight of personality so making his way through a crowd of Warders is a piece of cake. See, sometimes being the chosen one has its benefits.

“And Siuan Sanche. You’ve changed since we last met.”

Oh. Okay yeah the fact that we get him saying this to her, rather than the other way around, is a really, really excellent way of just subtly shifting the entire balance of power – not even quite power; something else I can’t think of a good word for – of the scene.

It's the way it takes the way this scene is so neatly set up to be a bookend of that first meeting between them, and just… flips the obvious line on its axis. It’s still there, we’re still on script, but it’s ever so slightly not what you expect, and that difference itself becomes the point. Because Rand is no longer the object of the scene; he is very much its subject. The assignment of agency and proactivity has shifted (he has chosen, now, rather than been chosen; a semantic shift that makes perhaps literally all the difference in the world), and this is just a really cool way to play with that.

If that made any sense.

“You once took an arrow for me. Did I thank you for that?”

This… this gentleness is absolutely killing me and we’re only a few lines into his actual appearance in this chapter. The way it’s no longer forced, or agonised, or desperate, or serving only as a sharp contrast to either anger or apathy to remind you of who he once was. Instead it’s just… there. Without brittleness or the aching sense of something lost. There’s just a weird kind of beauty in the simplicity of this, in how it’s just… him, without any of the hundred things waiting to shatter beneath that statement.

Maybe that’s it; the gentleness that doesn’t feel like the precursor to shattering glass. The way this isn’t a veiled threat, or a barb, or a forced admission, or a conversational gambit. Just thanks, remembered honestly and offered freely and that’s… it.

(Moiraine once took a Forsaken for you, Rand. Be sure to thank her for that too).

Anyway, Siuan sings Egwene’s praises as Amyrlin, of course, and apparently everything Rand says or does in this chapter is going to just get me because:

He smiled again. “I should have expected nothing less. Strange, but I feel that seeing her again will hurt, though that is one wound that has well and truly healed. I can still remember the pain of it, I suppose.”

Again it’s just the gentleness that pervades all of this, where once there was turmoil and pain and a rage in him fit to burn the world, or else terrifying coldness and absence and a distant voice screaming. It’s like everything has finally fallen silent and only then do you realise how loud everything was before, and how maddening. Just… Rand being able to smile simply, and feel and express emotions in the normal human range.

And that sense of… wonder, almost, that you get from him at that fact. It’s—there is very much a rebirth kind of feel to a lot of this, because a part of it is that Rand is very, very aware of where he has just come from and where he stands now. That’s the whole point: to get to this, he had to choose it and realise it and open his eyes, I suppose. And so now he’s seeing everything through that new filter (or perhaps without the noise of the old one) and there’s a kind of beautiful simplicity and something like but also entirely unlike innocence to it.

Tiana has a letter for him with a red seal… one of Verin’s, maybe? If so, Rand sure has a track record with Aes Sedai and letters left to him. She did have several, when we saw her with Mat… and I struggle to think of who else would have left one. Cadsuane, maybe?

“Do your best to calm Egwene when I am done,” he said to Siuan. Then he took a deep breath and strode forward

CHILDREN. ALL OF THEM. That, right there, for probably the first time this book, is absolutely 100% a glimpse of Rand al’Thor, Woolheaded Sheepherder, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Wise, gentle, reconciled to his role, remembering his past life and accepting who he is… and still taking a deep breath and making contingency plans before going to a stubborn-off with his former childhood sweetheart. I’m laughing.

OH IT’S EGWENE, WE DO GET TO SEE THIS IN EGWENE’S POV, YES THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANTED.

This was not Rand al’Thor, friend of her childhood, the man she’d assumed she’d one day marry.

Oh no, just start right out with a gut-punch why don’t you. No, Egwene, he is.

Except… he also isn’t, and that’s the sad part. But if this is to work, I still think that’s going to be the key: that they know—knew—each other as people. Except now Egwene is deliberately telling herself not to do that, and while it’s understandable it’s… that way lies the end of the Second Age.

No. This man was the Dragon Reborn. The most dangerous man ever to draw breath.

This hurts me in exactly the way I was hoping it would.

Just as Rand has finally accepted himself, and in some ways come back to himself (not quite, because you can’t go back you can only go forwards as the Wheel of Time turns, but he’s no longer forcing everything about who he was away), Egwene is forcing herself to see him as anything but that. As just the Dragon Reborn, legend and monster and saviour and destroyer. It’s a perfect mis-alignment of timings.

(Egwene is steeling herself, just as Rand has finally stopped trying to become steel).

“Egwene,” Rand said

IT’S! ABOUT! THE NAMES!

She’s thinking of him, emphatically, as the Dragon Reborn… but the dialogue tag betrays her. We are in her POV and as soon as he speaks, he is Rand.

And the first word he says is her name. Not ‘Mother’ or ‘Amyrlin’, not the opening of some request or demand. Just… ‘Egwene’.

He is the Dragon Reborn, come to see the Amyrlin—he asked for the Amyrlin—and she is the Amyrlin steeling herself to face the Dragon Reborn and yet in the first moment, when that silence of waiting is broken, they are Rand and Egwene and—

I just. Maybe I’m reading too much into this but it’s perfect and it hurts and I love it.

(Names are important).

He nodded to her, as if in respect. “You have done your part, I see. The Amyrlin’s stole fits you well.”

WHY DOES THIS HURT ME? WHY AM I EXPERIENCING AN EMOTION?

They’ve both just come so far and through so much and they hardly even know one another anymore, and there’s this almost-but-not-quite uncertainty and almost-but-not-quite familiarity, and yet it feels not like the anticipation before an ‘everything goes wrong’ moment but instead the anticipation of… maybe, finally, finding their way back to something? Or forwards, I suppose. It’s like the tentative formality of meeting someone for the first time in years, unsure of them and of yourself and of everything that’s happened in the interim but there’s something weirdly hopeful about it.

Maybe I’m just so used to liveblogging pain that I don’t know what to do with myself when it’s not there, except in echoes and memories and all the space that has grown between them, but this is like… a hand offered across that intervening space.

From what she had heard of Rand recently, she had not anticipated such calm in him.

I mean. That’s… fair.

Well, or she might have been led to anticipate a very different kind of calm. The calm of ice or cuendillar that could in an instant become, you know, balefiring an entire fortress out of existence.

Maybe save your musings on whether or not he’s a criminal for whatever passes as a Geneva Convention in this world, Egwene. We don’t have time to unpack all of that right now.

“What has happened to you?” she found herself asking as she leaned forward on the Amyrlin Seat.

“I was broken,” Rand said, hands behind his back. “And then, remarkably, I was reforged. I think he almost had me, Egwene.”

HELP.

THIS IS JUST.

I… wow. What do I even do with this?

Just as the first word out of his mouth was her name, and her first thought of him was as Rand… now, despite sitting on the Amyrlin Seat—which we are quite literally reminded of here, and I don’t think that’s accidental—her first words are… call it concern, call it curiosity, call it demand, call it accusation even, but that’s not Amyrlin to Dragon Reborn there. That’s not the opening of negotiations or a summons or a meeting. That’s Egwene, looking at Rand. It’s like Nynaeve in TFoH reaching for him almost instinctively and saying ‘at least let me Heal you’.

And then Rand’s response!

‘I was broken’. Such a simple statement for so, so much more. And yet… that’s what it is. It’s the simplicity, again, that gets me. The simplicity and the self-awareness and the way he can look at it now, with that sense of removal, but this time not because he’s walled himself off from the pain; instead, he lets himself feel it but he has accepted its reason and its source and its necessity. He’s no longer fighting against himself, and that lets him bear so much more, because so much of that pain came from that battle against himself, and from the fear of what he might become.

He spent so long trying to forge himself into steel, but in the end that’s not the reforging he needed. And now he knows that, and sees it, and there’s just something about a character who can stand on the far side of their own breaking and their own agony and speak of it calmly, whole.

It's just an entire situation I’m having here.

And that last bit. ‘I think he almost had me’. The memory of ‘it is HIM’. And the fact that Rand can see that too, now; can see how close he came to the Shadow without ever turning from the Light, and understand that nuance.

But also… there is still one very glaring loose end there: Rand has used the True Power. Sure, he doesn’t seem particularly… uh… compromised by that at this point, but I still just cannot imagine that won’t be brought back in some way.

He spoke differently. There was a formality to his words that she didn’t recognise.

And then it’s lines like this that keep this scene from being… to perfect? Not in terms of execution, but in terms of ‘things going well and painlessly for characters’. Because there is still a sadness to this, to Rand and Egwene looking at one another (and naming one another!) and seeing the person behind the role, and looking for the person they knew, and yet also still seeing elements of a stranger.

Because they have changed. Neither of them is at all the child they were when they left Emond’s Field, and there is so much between them now, and that connection they have is worn and thinned and this isn’t a joyful reunion. There’s catharsis here, and a tentative possibility of peace or friendship, but there’s also this recognition, each to each, of how much of what used to be is now gone. They’ve both been hardened and shaped by their experiences and they both know it and recognise it in each other—perhaps in part because they both also very clearly by this point recognise it in themselves.

“Why have you come before the Amyrlin Seat?” she asked.

And now we get the opening of Amyrlin-to-Dragon. But that’s not where we began. We began with Rand and Egwene, and I’ll shut up about it in a minute but this whole play of naming and identity is one of those little things that gets me pretty much every time it turns up in a story.

“I’ve hated you before,” Rand said, turning back to Egwene.

I’M FINE! THIS IS FINE!

Yes I am quoting pretty much every line of dialogue in this scene but LISTEN, IT HURTS ME.

The thing is, this is a statement utterly without malice. It’s not a threat or an insult—not even the childish sort of insult they might have exchanged last time they met. It’s… really, the only word that comes to mind is a confession.

Which plays into one of the features of Rand’s character that stands out so far in the brief moments we’ve seen him in this book: genuine self-knowledge, and self-knowledge that he fully accepts. There is no longer any remnant of denial.

And that allows him to make statements like this and have them come across as, weirdly, almost benevolent. Nothing he has said is said with the intent to deceive, or to wound, or even really to manipulate. It’s just truth—and truth that he himself fully understands and accepts now.

So he’s not fighting against her out of fear of being caught up in Aes Sedai strings, just as he’s not fighting against Lews Therin’s memories out of fear of being caught up in Kinslayer’s fate. Instead of fighting against everything up to and including himself, he’s just… him.

“It occurs to me that I’ve been trying too hard.”

That’s exactly it. He’s been fighting, when in some ways what he needed was to learn how (and where, and when) to surrender. Though even ‘surrender’ connotes a struggle or a conflict, and I think a lot of this realisation is that it’s not about fighting or forcing or struggling; it’s about accepting, and guiding, and leading. And choosing, of course.

“A fear that the acts I accomplished would be yours, and not my own.” He hesitated. “I should have wished for such a convenient set of backs upon which to heap the blame for my crimes.”

Wow. Okay, that’s… a line.

Um.

Damn.

It’s almost ironic, the way he instead tried to heap all the responsibility on himself and take all that blame and pain, and let it damn him and in doing so tried to pretend it freed him to act as he needed, no longer held back by such trivial concerns as humanity and his own conscience or sense of redeemability. But ultimately it came down to the same thing, in a way: an inability to accept what he was doing, and so trying to find a place to put all that pain.

(Or, as Lews Therin once advised, ‘If it hurts too much, make it hurt someone else instead’).

But now he sees that, too, and so instead of trying to escape the pain or treat it as ‘I’m damned either way so may as well burn it all’, he understands his responsibility but in a more… balanced way, I suppose.

The Dragon Reborn had come to the White Tower to engage in idle philosophy

Moridin? That you?

I do sort of wonder, because I’m me, what impact, if any, Rand’s epiphany might (or could; I don’t really expect the story to go there, much as I might wish it to) have on Moridin, given the link they share.

“Rand,” Egwene said, softening her tone.

And now we get the reflection of the names from the opening of this conversation! It’s about the names! It’s about the dialogue tags! It’s about identity and perception and that thread of friendship that still binds them and might in the end be enough to save them from their predecessors’ fate!

“I’m going to have some sisters talk to you to decide if there is anything… wrong with you. Please try to understand.”

I mean you could not have phrased that less tactfully if you tried, Egwene, but it is kind of understandable. We may know full well that there’s less wrong with Rand now than there has been at pretty much any point since the start of the series, but how in the Light would anyone else be able to be sure of that? He’s certainly not acting like the Rand Egwene once knew, or even the Rand she last saw. Nor is he behaving like the Rand from whatever reports she’s received.

And yes, while I think the world waiting and watching for him to go mad hurt far more than it helped, there’s also the fact that that is what everyone and their mother expects—because up until what, a few months ago, that was inevitable.

So then in walks the Dragon Reborn, acting like… well, this, and what else are you going to do? A bit like the cleansing of saidin, as a reader you want all the other characters to just take it on faith, but the rather sad irony of Rand’s position is that his own word is the one no one is entirely sure they can trust. And the only one here who can vouch for him is himself. Elayne or Aviendha or Min might be able to, but none of them is nearby, and also that bond’s been kept pretty quiet.

So anyway. Yeah, I can see where she’s coming from on that.

To his credit, so can Rand.

“Oh, I do understand, Egwene. And I am sorry to deny you, but I have too much to do.”

There’s the woolheaded sheepherder again. He’s smiling here, and I am quite sure this is a bit of the old Rand dropping by to say hello and needle Egwene just a bit, because that’s what they do.

“A friend rides to his death without allies.”

HE NAMED YOU FRIEND. AND NOW YOU REMEMBER HIM. THIS IS FINE I’M FINE EVERYTHING’S FINE.

“This is the part I regret. I did not wish to come into your centre of power, which you have achieved so well, and defy you. But it cannot be helped. You must know what my plans are so that you can prepare.”

To be able to say that without so much as the hit of a threat in it is… quite a power move, I have to say. Because even here, I think he’s still just being absolutely and even benevolently honest. He doesn’t want to undermine her. He doesn’t even really want to challenge her. He understands where she’s coming from – which itself puts us so, so far from where he was just days ago, that he can meet her uncertainty and suspicion and say ‘okay yeah, that’s fair’.

And if he had time, I wonder if he might actually agree to that particular request.

But he doesn’t have time. Which brings us to the other extraordinary part of this statement: willingly offering up communication. Just. Straight up saying ‘you need to know my plans’. Mark this date in your calendars, friends: a Wheel of Time character just offered, unprompted, voluntarily, to share their plans with another character, so that they can prepare.

I am astonished.

“The last time I tried to seal the Bore”

You know, just the other day.

“I believe that saidin and saidar must both be used.”

I think he’s absolutely right there—it’s a part of what I love about Rand and Egwene, childhood friends for all that they’ve grown apart, holding the roles that they do; the idea that this bond between them, strained as it is, could allow them to do what Lews Therin and Latra Posae could not—but I also… he shall hold a blade of light in his hands, and the three shall be one. I just… wonder.

Egwene leaned forward, studying him. There didn’t seem to be madness in his eyes. She knew those eyes. She knew Rand.

YES!

THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANTED! That she sees him. Looks past the Dragon Reborn, past her role as Amyrlin, and for a moment she is just Egwene looking at Rand and it is by nature such a simple thing—stripping away everything but that simple identity—but it’s also the thing that can give them a chance to do it differently this time. This chance of understanding, this one small thing that could tip them towards cooperation and trust rather than letting them turn away from each other or fall apart.

Light, she thought, I’m wrong. I can’t think of him only as the Dragon Reborn. I’m here for a reason. He’s here for a reason. To me, he must be Rand. Because Rand can be trusted, while the Dragon Reborn must be feared.

Maybe it’s very Sanderson to have this stated outright, but I’m not even going to complain, because it’s… perfect. To allow, in the end, trust and friendship and who they are rather than purely what they are come into it as well, even just in some small way, to bridge that gap. It’s what Lews Therin and Latra Posae couldn’t do, but Rand and Egwene have a chance to try again.

I just… have been spinning around on this EXACT CONCEPT for, I don’t know, several books now, and to see it playing out so plainly here is everything I want and I am never going to be okay again in my life.

“Which are you?” she whispered unconsciously.

He heard. “I am both, Egwene. I remember him. Lews Therin. I can see his entire life, every desperate moment. I see it like a dream, but a clear dream. My own dream. It’s part of me.”

It’s a nice touch, that he speaks of it as a dream, to the one who understands dreams so well.

It’s also just a lot, to have gone from ‘so many parts of him, mind splintered in glittering shards, all of them screaming’ to ‘sorrows and his own suicide’ to a clear dream he accepts as a part of himself. The pain and desperation of it are still there, but he’s no longer fighting them, because he no longer sees it as something he’s bound to. It’s just a part of who he is, but it doesn’t have to define what he will be.

I also like this because Egwene was one of the first to notice him speaking to a voice in his mind. And now she gets this, just an honest and accepting response. It seems fitting, somehow.

The words were those of a madman, but they were spoken evenly. She looked at him, and remembered the youth that he had been. The earnest young man. Not solemn like Perrin, but not wild like Mat. Solid, straightforward. The type of man you could trust with anything.

Even the fate of the world.

THAT’S IT THAT’S IT RIGHT THERE. If they did not know each other, this could be an impasse. Not as disastrous as Rand’s meeting with Tuon, perhaps, because he’s a little… uh… less omnicidal at this particular moment, but likely just as unsuccessful. An Amyrlin who could not trust the Dragon, and a Dragon who could not afford to give her the assurances she needed, and so two powers working in parallel but separately, almost in opposition.

But she knows him. And it’s the youth he had been—it is LITERALLY THE MEMORY OF A SHEPHERD NAMED RAND AL’THOR, the echo of one of my favourite quotes—that tips the balance the other way this time.

It’s Rand. The boy he tried for so long to destroy, because to be him hurt too much.

And I also really love how it isn’t about some Grand True Love between them that does it. They were childhood sweethearts, sure, but the love between them is that of friends, of a shared childhood, of something very much like family. And I like that there’s this implicit importance and weight placed on that; that in its way it’s as crucial to this moment as the ‘veins of gold’ were on Dragonmount

This is what Latra Posae and Lews Therin had. And so instead it falls to Egwene and Rand, to learn from their mistakes, and do what they could not. It is what Rand realised on Dragonmount, and what he is playing out now. A chance to try again.

And it’s because he’s Rand that that’s possible. It’s not Lews Therin, or the Dragon Reborn (but it is also both of those, because he is both of those).

“In one month’s time,” Rand said, “I’m going to travel to Shayol Ghul and break the last remaining seals on the Dark One’s prison. I want your help.”

Well. I mean. Okay. Points for honest and straightforward communication, I suppose. I love that he just walks into the Tower and drops this on her like a grenade, though. It amuses me.

Ah, so she thinks the crystal sphere in her dream represents the seals or the prison as well.

“Rand, no”

Rand: Rand yes!

Sorry, couldn’t help myself.

“I’m going to need you, all of you”

Rand openly admitting to needing anyone or anything, and again just as a statement rather than a threat or an angry demand, is another thing that’s new and kind of refreshing.

“I hope to the Light that this time, you will give me your support.”

Rand to Egwene, remembering Lews Therin to Latra Posae. And if everyone is someone reborn, who’s to say she isn’t? (I’m not… really sure whether I’d want that to be true or not, so I suppose it’s nice that it’s not stated one way or the other, at least up to this point. But it could be a fun one to play with). Either way, those very much are the roles they’re echoing, and I swear I’ll shut up about this but I still just love how, so closely following Rand’s realisation on Dragonmount, we get to actually watch that kind of chance-to-try-again play out. A chance to work together, rather than apart.

“And then… well, then we will discuss my terms.”

Ah well, I suppose it was too much to hope for him to communicate the whole plan right now. Baby steps and all that.

Also, you know, narrative choices and the need to keep at least something back.

“Your terms?” Egwene demanded. “You will see,” he said, turning as if to leave.

So… the way it’s framed puts us into very slightly antagonistic (and much more familiar) territory of lack of communication and demands and terms.

But I wonder what terms he’s referring to, because there is a nonzero probability that he’s talking about Callandor here. In which case, it’s not entirely impossible that the terms he’s referring to are, in effect, those of his own surrender.

I could be wrong. I very probably am. But it’s… an interesting possibility to consider. And it would be kind of fitting, in a way, for that to be the uncommunicated and therefore misunderstood thing here.

Turns out ‘the Amyrlin’s Anger’ is Egwene just shouting at her childhood friend ‘don’t you turn your back on me when I’m talking to you, Rand al’Thor’ and Rand turning back like a boy who tracked mud into the house. I love them, I really do.

“We must talk about this,” she said. “Plan.”

“That is why I came to you. To let you plan.”

He seemed amused.

Oh, he’s absolutely amused. Part of him still is the boy you knew, and this is honestly just classic Rand-and-Egwene, for all that it’s also on an entirely different level. They antagonise one another: it’s what they do. But I don’t think there’s true anger here, on either side. And again, that is what could save them. That ‘anger’ between them is… this, rather than that snapping of tension and dropping of any possibility of a truce and turning immediately to planning their next moves, all thought of alliance or restraint over, between Rand and Tuon.

Anyway. The other thing here is that… it’s easy to be exasperated with Egwene, because just listen to Rand, he’s sane now damn it, and he’s almost certainly right about the seals.

But honestly? In her position? Knowing what she knows—and not knowing all the things she doesn’t know, like the actual state of Rand’s mind—it’s hard to fault her for pushing back on this. He walks in, says he’s fine and that he remembers a dead man’s entire life and also that they need to break the prison of the embodiment of entropy and chaos and evil, okay bye!

Like. As Amyrlin, it’s her job to say ‘okay, right, I’m with you, but also what the fuck’. It would be irresponsible not to.

Of course… I get the impression Rand knows that, too. And is, perhaps, counting on it. He came to her to let her plan, and he doesn’t seem surprised or upset by the fact that she doesn’t just immediately say ‘okay cool when do we start’, and he has a certain respect for the position she holds.

I think it’s entirely possible this is what he wants from her. For her to plan. Because he doesn’t have time to. And because, just as she looks at him and sees someone she can trust with the fate of the world, he looks at her and sees someone he can trust with planning and logistics and getting the Aes Sedai to get themselves where he needs them. A kind of ‘this is what I’m going to do, now do whatever it is you need to do because I don’t need to micromanage and I also don’t have time to, okay see you at Tarmon Gai’don’.

“And so here we come to it,” Rand said.

Yeah, he saw this coming.

“Egwene al’Vere, Watcher of the Seals, Flame of Tar Valon, may I have your permission to withdraw?”

He asked it so politely. She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or not.

The thing is, I really don’t think he is. It’s like how earlier he said he didn’t want to come into her place of power and undermine her. He’s giving her, I think, an honest gesture with genuine respect. Because now, at peace with himself as he is, it costs him nothing to do so. She is not his enemy, and I do think his respect for her is honest, and I think he still cares about her as a friend, and what does he lose by giving her a small bow and her titles and the opportunity to grant him permission to leave?

And of course Egwene is conflicted, because on the one hand she can’t keep him here like Elaida tried to, but on the other hand…

“I will not let you break the seals,” she said. “That is madness.”

“Then meet me at the place known as the Field of Merrilor, just to the north. We will talk before I go to Shayol Ghul. For now, I do not want to defy you, Egwene. But I must go.’

Ah. And so we have a battleground.

As for the rest… well. It’s not quite accord, but nor is it disaster. It’s not even quite a true impasse. There’s tension now, sure, but it’s a) not even in the same hemisphere as as bad as it would have been if Rand hadn’t had some alone time on a mountain to think, literally, about his life choices and b) not insurmountable.

And c) I still think there’s a very real chance this is all Rand actually needed or wanted out of this. Egwene now knows his plan and his timing and the battleground, and she can take care of the rest.

It’s almost—gasp—as if Rand al’Thor, Dragon Reborn, has truly learned to delegate.

The chamber was still enough for Egwene to hear the faint breeze making the rose window groan it its lead.

The wind, for Rand, against the rose, for the Aes Sedai. (Also, listen, I have not forgotten that Eldrene was the Rose of the Sun).

“Very well,” Egwene said. “But this is not ended, Rand.”

“There are no endings, Egwene.”

IT’S! ABOUT! THE NAMES!

They talk a big game about each other’s titles, and wonder if they’re really the person they each once knew, but they both open and closes with nothing but each other’s names, and it means absolutely everything.

Also, that’s… really not a bad outcome. Honestly, this could have been so much worse. Anger? Try ‘okay um that’s unexpected and I’m still not sure you’re not insane but…sure. Okay’.

Which really is all you need, right? It’s agreement with a bit of hesitation, and at this stage in the game that’s a damn victory.

Again, I can’t help but contrast it with that absolute catastrophe at Falme, and compared to that? This is just friends sticking their tongues out at each other on the way out. Rand knows he can count on Egwene to be there, at least. Will she agree with him when she arrives? Who knows. But that’s a problem for another time. For now, he at least knows she’ll go, and that’s all he can ask. And he can leave the rest of the planning in her hands.

And she knows what he’s planning, and knows he wants her as an ally, and can therefore make said plans.

I don’t think this is ended either, and I’m sure there’s plenty of potential conflict to come, but this was, all things considered, really kind of impressive in its lack of explosions.

(Also, ‘there are no endings’. Now who’s giving Aes Sedai answers, Rand? As well as probably spoilers for the last line of the series. Rude.)

Oh, interesting. So Rand’s ta’veren hyperdrive powers pretty much literally froze all the other Aes Sedai in place. Because this needed to be a meeting between Rand and Egwene. Because of their roles, yes, but also because of that thread of connection they still share. And so it had to be the two of them, because that was the only chance of this working at all.

Egwene frowned. She hadn’t felt it that way. Perhaps because she thought of him as Rand.

I… yeah. Because that’s what he needed: to have this conversation with someone who could see him. Even then, it barely came out to something almost resembling accord. They needed that small weight on the scales, to have that chance. And so she was free, because it was the Dragon Reborn, and not Rand, who was holding the others silent, in a way.

Or at least that’s how I’m reading this because it plays into my entire thing for names and identity and perception, and the importance thereof.

“We need to discuss his words. The Hall of the Tower will reconvene in one hour’s time for discussion.”

Which, really, is exactly what they need to be doing. Now they have the information, and they can figure out… a battle plan, I suppose. Okay. We’re there now. We have a place and a time (this place, this day, which of course is followed by the lesser sadness, yes I remember sequences of chapter titles why are you looking at me like that) and the beginnings of a plan. I’m… it’s been five years and I’m not entirely ready for this.

“And someone follow to make sure he really leaves.”

You’re just afraid he’ll find some way to prank you on his way out, don’t lie.

“Then how? How do we stop him?”

That, Silviana, is not the question you need to be asking. I mean, I get it. I really do. And I’m not sure how they could not think that, at least initially. But… the time for working against each other’s aims, when you are all on the same side, is over.

“We need allies,” Egwene said.

Which, again, I think is precisely the point. That is something it makes absolute sense for Rand to delegate to the Amyrlin Seat, who has the power and the standing to gather allies and play the games of politics, and bring her portion of the Forces of the Light to… the Field of Merrilor, I suppose.

She took a deep breath. “He might be persuaded by people that he trusts.” Or he might be forced to change his mind if confronted by a large enough group united to stop him.

Oh, Egwene, no. You can’t be another Latra Posae.

But perhaps it would be too easy for this to actually just be their only not-quite-conflict. I still think it was more a success than a failure, all told, and I stand by everything I said about the importance of their friendship in letting them see each other, but I think we’re looking at one final testing of that, before the end.

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