#grey ajah

[pien-art]

The Amyrlin Seat

(click image for optimal quality)

prints available here!

[wot-tidbits]

Yellow Aes Sedai by silveranswer

White Aes Sedai by silveranswer

Red Aes Sedai by silveranswer

Grey Aes Sedai by silveranswer

Green Aes Sedai by silveranswer

Brown Aes Sedai by silveranswer

Blue Aes Sedai bysilveranswer

[lord-of-khaos]

“The Gray Ajah are mediators, seeking harmony and consensus. Many kingdoms use Gray sisters to insure that their treaties with one another will hold.”

[dinosaur-princess]

#these are educated guesses really #using those bts costuming videos #real TH bias here I'm assuming bc of the amount of work that had been done for Falme costuming #Tairens love their paisley #Ghealdan draws on Greek influences in some neat ways #traditional Greek clothing has many more layers than I'd have anticipated #the rest are probably Andor/Murandy/Tarabon or misc borderlanders #maybe one more from Ghealdan #hits 7/9 cultures with costume concepts for s1/2 and the Tarabon/Arafel work done for Liandrin and Alanna #but I couldn't be assed to try to puzzle it out for places that had less context clues available #the hall of the tower

Aes Sedai: Servants of All

[siennadraws]

Years ago, her cheeks would have been beet red as she approached her destination.

If she had friends among the Accepted, maybe she would have brought them along and made an excuse for this excursion, but all her companions were still novices and would be for many years still.

Despite it all, whatever would happen now, she wanted that moment to herself. She would not share it with anyone else, save the man she prayed was in those training grounds.

But now, what felt like a much more reasonable part of herself told her he wouldn't wait three years. Not just wait, but go through exactly what she went through in her training, except with many more bruises and cuts, with broken bones.

All these years away from him, she couldn't remember ever doubting him, pushing herself to her limit and beyond, making herself the perfect student to meet him as soon as it was possible.

Even if that was so, she needed to know it. See it for herself. Imagining things was a waste of time, and as a future Aes Sedai, she would not waste time. So, she quickened her pace (as much as she could, respectably), weaving a path through streets she had walked in her old life, to the barracks of the would-be Warders.

She could hear shouting, metal clashing, the thumping of bodies crashing into the ground, beyond the patched-up wooden walls, but most clearly, the blood thumping in her ears. She needed to get in there.

As if on cue, a voice startled her, "Now this is unusual," a Warder leaned by the gate, pipe in hand, and words smothered in smoke. "What's a sisterling doing here, exactly?"

Visits to the Warders weren't unusual for Accepted. None had seen men beyond a few bonded Warders in probably a decade, and many felt the absence. What better way to cure that than by looking through the list of candidates for Warders? But doing so alone was unusual - embarrassing - it would probably have meant one had no comrades among her sisters.

"An Aes Sedai has asked me to give a message to one of the trainees."

"Oh? Couldn't she come here by herself?"

"Sir, I'm sure you know this better than myself: I can't question an Aes Sedai. Much less, the... oddity of their requests."

The man laughed, shaking his head. Syla gave a sheepish smile as pride trickled through the back of her mind. Hook, line, and sinker.

"You know my wife's one of them? But sure enough, they're a mysterious folk. So, who's the brat?"

"The one she wanted me to relay the message to was Eamas Tivror."

"Oh, that's a young one. She better not be trying to bond him yet - good sport, but not done yet. Though, I'd think she'd come here by herself for that. Who's the mistress?"

Right. She really hoped Warders didn't know the name of every single Aes Sedai.

"Syla, sir. She told me he would know her."

"Syla? Yeah, he mentioned that name. Now, my heart is truly warmed that she remembered him through her training. But I'd be even more impressed if she was an Aes Sedai already," her cheeks warmed, she couldn't tell if it was because he caught up on her lie or because Eamas talked about her enough for him to be able to do so. "Not trying to minimize you being an Accepted after only three years. Congratulations."

Oh. He figured that, too. Her cheeks were flaming red now. Was she that bad?

"Now, now, kiddo. You didn't do a bad job- I wanted to believe you until you mentioned your name. Blame your friend- he was the one explaining to me why he needed to join us."

She wanted to bury herself deep into the earth. She needed to be good at this, Aes Sedai were good at this. Or at least she needed to know what battles she couldn't win to enter them humbly. No wisdom - she should've just admitted her motives, suffered the embarrassment, and spared herself this bigger one.

"I'm sorry, sir. I-"

"Oh, spare me, please. You girls are too quick to apologize - I'm not going to whip you. Once you get yourselves bonded up, you'll know how to not step on each other's toes. So, I'll call him over. Don't mind the smell."

She nodded, her neck and shoulders still stiff. Were he an Aes Sedai, he would have surely sent her to be punished for this.

"Thank you, sir."

He groaned at her address, and she wondered who his Aes Sedai was for him to be so tired of her politeness. Was it someone too strict (if so, she wept for him, she knew that kind, even as she evaded them)? Or a rebellious soul who could complain to him about the hierarchies in the Tower? Did Aes Sedai like that truly exist?

He entered the training grounds, closing the gates behind him and leaving her to her thoughts.

Eamas had talked about her. Was it just in the early days, or did he still mention her? Did he still hope for her to meet him? Did he falter when the Warders told him how long it could take her? Did he still think about her as she thought about him? As she did through sleepless nights, her endless chores, and every challenging exercise. Through the Silver arches.

She was woken from her thoughts by the gate opening, then closing behind a tall figure. As he stepped out of the shadows, with a careful gait, Syla felt the world pulled from under her feet.

There was reality, and then there was seeing him. All her senses faded away, except her vision fixed on him. There was the exhilaration of Channeling, and then there was seeing him. Her blood felt like the purest Healing, rebirthing her as it pumped furiously in her veins.

Time seemed to stop as she took his figure in.

He had grown taller, although he had already been a giant of a boy, and she could see how he had grown so much stronger too, from his wide shoulders and uncovered arms, even if when he was a baker, he would already carry sacks of flour around his shoulders. He had let his hair grow longer, curls covering his chest.

He had grown as she had. But she could still notice the remnants of baby fat on his cheeks, despite being covered by a thick beard.

As she smiled, time rushed back to her, pushing her to run to Eamas. He crashed into her, their arms wrapping themselves around the other. Syla was lifted with a twirl, able to bury her face in his shoulders for a moment, before her feet hit the ground again. Slowly, they unwrapped themselves, and even more slowly, they gathered the courage to meet each other's gaze.

"You waited for me."

"Of course, I promised," it was all Syla could do not to look surprised. His voice had dropped much lower than when they last spoke. She remembered how it would still break back then, and after 3 years of hearing that voice in her mind, it was strange to have it replaced. But she liked how he sounded, his whispered tones warmer and richer, gravel that would pull her in and never let her out.

Syla pulled herself from her thoughts as he, more quickly, continued, "I wanted to. I wanted to. And you, you barely made me wait. I mean- I thought I'd- I should have known. You're brilliant, you're so brilliant, Syla!"

Warmth filled her from head to toe, blushing her cheeks and making her feel momentarily dizzy. She had almost forgotten how good it felt to hear him compliment her. When she met him, she felt so impossibly small, but he was her sun and rain. In the Tower, her teachers humbled her to the point of viciousness despite her efforts, but here with him again, she felt safe, she felt so powerful.

"I'm only here now because of you. You gave me my strength. I couldn't leave you waiting. And - I needed to see you again."

"I've missed you, too," he smiled a sweet smile. So sweet, nothing could stop her from laying her hand on his clothed chest, hoping to steal only a small piece of whatever warmth made Eamas himself.

It was his turn to turn red, eyes fidgeting as he spoke, "I would keep my promise. But-"

Syla's blood turned cold, and without noticing, she stepped closer to him. As if he could shield her from his own words. Had he found an Aes Sedai that wanted him? Had he stayed long enough to see her, and would try an easier life now? Go back to his own home?

"But you're you," she wanted to disappear from the face of the Earth, from the Wheel itself in that moment. Yes, Syla was Syla. She was Syla. Just Syla. Just some girl who was lucky to be born in Tar Valon and probably lucky to be born at all. Her mother didn't succeed in the Tower, so how could she? How could she wait for someone to dedicate their life to hers? What could she give?

"You've become an Accepted after just three years. I'm no one. I'm no one! You need a stronger Warder than what I can give you. I'm pushing myself, but when you become an Aes Sedai, you'll need your Warder. I'll still be training."

The ice in her vein turned colder still. Her self-hatred had blinded her to his doubting himself. Too concentrated on herself to notice how he felt.

"No, no, no! Do not say that. I will never take any Warder except you. If this was by some fault of mine, but - No one, and I mean no one, could ever reach your feet in my eyes. If I'm lucky enough that you would choose me, I'd never even dream of turning down that honor."

His fidgeting stopped as he looked at her, eyes blown wide. She didn't know what to do with herself, how to communicate how much she meant what she had said. So she held on tighter to him, her other hand by his hips. Maybe if she held onto him with enough strength, he wouldn't wander into such foolish ideas again.

"Truly?"

"Truly, Eamas," he hugged her tightly and she buried her face in his chest, willing herself to concentrate only on him, his warmth, his heartbeat, his breathing. Memorize him for all the days she won't see him. "I'll take you as you are. Whatever that is, I would want no other to be my confidant, I would trust no other as I trust you. But you were always a quick learner. And I'm certain you're a formidable warrior."

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. "I have no choice but to trust you."

Syla hummed in response, "None at all."

Oh, but she already missed him. No matter how tightly they held each other, not knowing when she would have time again to visit him haunted Syla. She could exit the Tower at her leisure now, but she still had classes to plan and teach, not to mention tutoring to attend.

"You could ask to come train in the Tower," she ventured, not knowing much of the Warders' rules. "...I want to see you more."

"I'll try to ask, they'd allow me at least once in a while," Syla smiled wide at the reassurance and earned a smile back from Eamas. "And maybe we could manage a freeday at the same time, too... Go to the places we used to go."

"See how they've changed, too. I'd like that."

Eamas pulled her back into his chest, resting his chin on her head. She almost laughed at how clingy he was being, if only she didn't want it as much. Or much, much more.

As they unwrapped themselves, Syla couldn't say how long they had clung to one another. She only knew it was far from enough. If she had her way, she'd stay in his arms until the Dragon came and left, she'd find a weave to nestle herself beneath his skin.

But the frightened look on Eamas' face pulled her from her thoughts, nodding to ask what troubled him.

"Oh, oh no... Look at your robes. I'm sorry, I should have been more careful."

She looked down at her clothes, now matching his, with dirt turning white to brown. If an Aes Sedai, or even an older Accepted, saw her like this...

"And you're probably smelling of my sweat too, I'm so sorry!"

Yes, he was quite sweaty, thinking about it, but she'd rather not think too hard about just how much she didn't mind the smell of it, so she reassured him, "No, no, no. It's alright. There are weaves for cleaning. I've only practiced them in class, but I'll manage. They're very simple."

"Of course," he groaned, "oh, I'd rather you not go through whatever happens if showed up like this."

"It's not pleasant, of that, I'm sure."

It would probably, at best, involve washing all of the Aes Sedai's dirty clothing, at worst, that and a birching.

"What I hear about the Tower makes training here sound like a walk in the park..."

"A certain discipline is needed to learn to channel without danger, but... respecting the One Power is often mistaken for being the slave to the whims of older women. Who would've thought that my path would involve that again?"

"A few more years, and you'll be free. Let them try to take that from you."

"This is why I need you as my Warder, Eamas," she laughed, and he gave her his sweet smile again.

"I do need to get back in there," he sighed.

"Yes, you should probably go... I'll visit you whenever I'm free. Next time I'll know my schedule better, and we'll figure something out."

"And I'll try to get in the Tower, pass by us there when you can."

Syla nodded, biting her lip as she tried to ignore the stinging starting in her eyes. At least this time around she knew she'd see him soon, but she couldn't help but feel like she was leaving him behind, by the White Tower's gates once more.

He looked at her with a pained frown, and to her surprise, softly cupped her face, to bring his lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes as his lips remained for some seconds, burning their softness into her skin.

As Eamas pulled away, he grabbed her hand, "I'll see you soon, Syla."

Bringing her hand to his lips, they said goodbye. And as she stood there, still in a daze, she saw him vanish once more behind gates.

[amemoryofwot]

Introducing our beautiful Aes Sedai ….

Esnaem Tumblragoran :)

(For her first name say it out loud, and I’ll take an extreme liberty making “agoran” a Malkieri suffix much like “nhald” is Taraboner and “ghan” is Cairhien)

And thank you to the 750 (!) people who voted! Let’s break it down!

We’ve already voted her into Malkieri heritage from our previous poll. From the top of this poll she was solidly voted into the Grey Ajah. The Ajahs corresponding to a lesser vote percentage were at a disadvantage due to the meta game of trying to vote her evil, but I’m happy she settled into a slightly less represented Ajah. She was Black for a good chunk of the time which lead to some of my favourite tags:

Age was a little trickier to assign, keeping in mind her Malkieri heritage needs her to be at least say, 50 to 60. So that vote percentage of a total lifespan doesn’t really make sense, so I think easiest thing is just to move that decimal place and make her 96 years old.

Personality wise she’s haughty about half again as much as she is serene which, yknow, fits.

Strength in the Power was a bit challenging as you all know that RJ’s wack leveling system puts Lanfear at level 1 and the highest, so MORE votes would make her weaker in this regard. Helpfully, the Thirteenth Repository has a power level chart that fits better here. If we round her up to Level 8, it makes her powerful enough to travel and puts her on par with such channellers as Verin, Alviarin, Alanna, Annoura, Meidani, and Seonid.

We did it everyone, we voted her to be TWENTY FIVE percent tits. Leading again to another favourite tag.

We voted her into the 6.3 percentile for height, which correlates to about 4’11 and a quarter (the quarter is very important) for the average woman. I looked up general weight range for this height and went with 45kg, which means she’s about 11kg of boobs so uh. Yeah. I tried looking up weight of breast size which I don’t think is even really a thing but the chart I found capped out at 1.5kg per H cup breast. Idk like I said before short and stacked. Fun fact the last screenshot I have of the early poll results show it took over 75 votes before anybody started voting for height which to me was even funnier than the bosom sweep.

She’s got about 5% vote for angreal so let’s give her five angreal of her very own, perhaps even some Malkieri artifacts she is preserving.

She has 8.5% vote for Warders, which is a challenge considering she’s Grey. To keep with the Ajah rules perhaps she only has one officially bonded Warder, but is caretaking a gaggle of aging Malkieri soldiers that are joked to be her Warders.

Most importantly, she has been voted about 21 pillowfriends. Another fun fact this is a higher number than confirmed pillowfriends and lesbians in WoT (I counted something like 18 from the wiki) so girl gets around.

And there you have her, Esnaem Tumblragoran, gilf Malkieri Sister of the Grey Ajah

[queenofmalkier]

I have lots of things but you said Aes Sedai and immediately my mind was just like: all advisors should have been grey!!! Seriously, it's their whole vibe, it's what they train for, but how often do we see actual grey advisors? Huh? TELL ME THAT.

(Elaida was not in her lane. Which. WHy did nobody catch onto THAT being weird??)

Also they're also basically law & order and we even have a detective grey sister, yet we don't see them figuring out ANYTHING? That Rand? Does?? I know he's supposed to be ~shocking~ and ~unconventional~ but come on, people are people. You can't tell me the greys haven't dealt with a king who rose up like Rand did.

All Wheel of Time fans/haters: what is the least important part of the Wheel of Time that irritates you? Nothing actually plot important, nothing that touches on real world issues, just the most narratively inconsequential thing that sticks out to you like a fishbone between your teeth?

I’ll go first: In spite of having the White Tower divided into Seven Official Ajahs RJ did not assign them the Seven Visual Colours that make up White Light. 

Red, Blue, Green, Yellow: all fine and good, red and blue being diametrically opposed even if these groups mission statements aren’t the clearest that’s fine, that’s not the point of this. 

Brown: Fine, if you really don’t want to have orange because orange doesn’t meet the ‘dark academia’ vibes keep brown (why the brown ajah didn’t have an exploratory devision that could have used orange idk and again not important.

Grey: I am chewing Robert - grey for your politics division? Grey? Purple Purple is the colour most associated with royalty, make them purple. The Grey Ajah should have been the logic and philosophy ajah, between and apart from good an evil not the White! 

This way pure white is left solely for the Amyrlin Seat - since she is the tower and the tower is her, “of all Ajahs and none.“ And novices wear a similar (obviously more uniform and less nice version) of all white as in the books 

Egg in her less nice whites against Eladia in her excessive fabrics both technically in the colour of the Amyrlin they both but forward to be?

Egg haven’t never chosen an ajah before she is raised to the Seat, being apart from and beyond the political struggles the black ajah had taken advantage of? A true - perhaps the first True Amyrlin?

Egg taken on the Seanchan attack technically in her novice dress But visually the Amyrlin atop the White Tower??? 

It would have been so NEAT ROBERT. It would have been so simple.  

In summation, the Ajah should have been Red, Brown(orange), Yellow, Green, Blue/Indigo, Purple and Grey for no reason other than my sanity 

[onaperduamedee]

Heartbroken reminder that Egwene is 17 when she gets taken by the Seanchan, spends two months in captivity being tortured, used as a weapon and dehumanized. When she gets back to the Tower, she immediately passes a test that's not at all traumatic, nearly gets killed by a Grey Man and is sent on a secret mission to hunt murderers completely unsupervised. During this period of wandering, lacking direction, she naturally gets angrier and erratic, but Nyn and Elayne mostly treat it as childish rebellion against Nyn's authority, with Elayne slapping Egwene because she was mean to Nyn. When the girls eventually get captured because they are not equipped at all to hunt the Black Ajah, Egwene becomes so terrified of being taken again that she keeps on resisting the sisters long past it is sensible, earning a brutal beating from the sisters who throw her back into a cell, beaten to a pulp, with no hope for help this time.

Clearly, Egwene has no PTSD whatsoever.

[rationalnerd62]

Not gonna lie. The more I think about it, the more I like how ruthless Siuan is in s2e7 😅. Sure, using Moiraine's oath this way is shitty (although she never asked Moiraine to swear such an oath in the first place), but compared to book-Siuan? Book-Siuan sent three Accepted to hunt for the Black Ajah, she put an 18 years old on a very unstable Amyrlin Seat just because she thought that'd give them bonus points with the Dragon Reborn and that it'd be ready to manipulate her, and she casually offered to assassinate a Novice that is causing Egwene troubles. She's a lot more morally grey than we saw in s1, and even if I'm still cautiously waiting to see how Moiraine and Siuan's journeys will go during the full show, I'm glad they're establishing that she isn't just someone following whatever plan Moiraine wants to do. She has her own agency, and if that leads to bad judgement calls, well... At least it'll leave her some space to grow.

[iliiuan]

💀💀💀💀💀

[catknifetime]

The Wheel of Time Ajahs ranking + reasoning. From best to worst. Inspired by a late night conversation I had with my sibling. (Full series spoilers)

1: Brown. They are the best Ajah for 2 reasons, one: they actually do what their Ajah is supposed to do and don’t just fuck around doing politics like roughly 80% of the other Aes Sedai. And two: they are, on average, some of the least insufferable Aes Sedai to talk to. + Verin bias.

2: Blue. They, like the Browns, do also actually do what their Ajah is supposed to do. The unfortunate thing is that what the Blue are supposed to do is basically whatever they want. But they seem generally the most likely to actually help normal people and be invested in making the world better. + Moiraine bias.

3: Grey. They also do their stated job pretty well and consistently. They are the last Ajah until the Red (arguably the white) to do so. tbh the Grey is mostly here because we get so little information on what they’re actually like. But they seem to be doing a pretty good job and not fucking up in any significant way, so they get 3rd.

4: Green. I like the green Ajah. They just don’t really do what they say they do. “The Battle Ajah”? Really? So why aren’t you in the borderlands helping with fighting shadowspawn? Or doing anything actually? Because I thought about it for a while, and I genuinely can’t remember a major thing that the Greens were doing, as a group, before the last battle. But they’re generally pretty cool and when the last battle did actually happen they showed up.

5: White. They’re fine, just the ones we’ve seen seem pretty annoying to talk to. They also are actually philosophers and mathematicians, but from what I can tell they don’t have a ton of contact with philosophers and mathematicians from outside of The Tower. Which is not really good practice if you want to advance those fields. So they fail at their stated job by not actually sharing their work enough. Basically they’re the much less cool and more annoying browns.

6: Yellow. AAAAHHHHH!!!!! The way the Yellows act makes me unspeakably mad. First, they completely disregard traditional medicine, because they can do stuff with the power better. HEY WHAT THE FUCK? The power has limits, especially with healing. Aes Sedai say that constantly throughout the series. But NO. No studying how traditional medicine could teach you more about the body. No seeing if some herbs could help with the recovery from healing. No interest in learning anything new! The most understandable kinda stupid thing they do is that they don’t research new healing weaves out of fear. But the second and worst thing is that they call themselves the healing Ajah, but from what I can tell don’t heal ANYONE who doesn’t come to The Tower or they just happen to heal out in the world. Again, HEY WHAT THE FUCK? There should be HOSPITALS!! At least one small one in every major city. Or at least in a few? I know there’s a problem of them not being able to heal everything, but they could still save a lot of people! Especially if they recruited people who could use normal medicine! But no. They seem to be the worst offenders of sitting on their asses in The Tower just doing politics.

7: Red. Do I really need to explain why Red is the worst? If you’ve read the series you know why I’m doing this. They are literally such a fuck-up of an Ajah that at the time of the series the there hasn’t been an Amyrlin raised from the Red for OVER 1,000 YEARS because the last one was such a disaster. And then when there is a Red raised to Amyrlin during the series she literally causes The Tower to completely fracture and have a little civil war when THE END OF THE WORLD is about to happen. And even though they technically do their job of dealing with men who can channel, they do a really bad job at it (specifically in how they treat the men after gentling, I go into it here). As well as the fact that most red sisters aren’t actually hunting men who can channel. Like 50 of them are at most. That’s 1/4 of the Ajah that’s doing it’s job. Also The Box was the Red Ajah’s idea.

[skyholly]

The best kept secret

Summary: What if Moiraine had a baby daughter she and Siuan were forced to leave to Anvaere to raise as her own?

moiraine/siuan

Chapter 1 here!

***************

Chapter 2: Moiraine

Moiraine couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw her. She was so grown up. Her father’s words resounded in her ears. Time is a thief. 

Her hair, of the warmest brown, sat neatly over her shoulders, when she’d once had soft, chestnut blonde curls. Her eyes remained the deepest of blue, but with more wisdom to them. Her height surprised her the most; the last time she saw her she could barely reach her waist, whilst now she stood almost as tall as her. And of course, that ring on her finger. That cursed ring. She knew when she’d joined the Tower and she knew she’d joined the Yellow Ajah, Siuan always kept her informed on such matters, but she very much wished she hadn’t. She had hoped she couldn’t have been able to channel. That she was allowed a normal life, a complete foreigner to the Tower’s demands. But the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. 

It took Moiraine a moment to get a hold of herself, and before she realised it, she’d made her way home, muttered some words, and suddenly she found herself tucking a strand of hair behind Guinevere’s ear, her mind flooding with memories of that week, a week that she had so earnestly tried to erase from her memory, and yet could never fully escape it. I can never seen her again.

*************

Moiraine knew she shouldn’t, and yet, she couldn’t help it. She’d been sent on business to Cairhien by the Amyrlin’s orders and could stay at whatever inn she pleased, preferably while maintaining a low profile. But being in the city ignited something within her—a yearning, an ache that burned throughout her entire being. Before she could gather her thoughts, she found herself dragging Lan through the city’s streets and passageways etched into her memory, towards the childhood home she’d promised herself never to return to, until she was ready. The Light knew she wasn’t, but she couldn’t fight the feeling, the yearning to see her. 

“This isn’t wise, Moiraine.” Lan warned her. But he could feel everything she did, and he couldn’t help but to sympathise with what her Aes Sedai was going trough, all of her emotions burning within him as well. He diligently followed the woman across the city, until they reached a big, wealthy house with an enormous door on its front. “Moiraine.” He alerted her again, but she remained indifferent to it. Just one look at her. One look at her and I’m gone. 

Moiraine walked the steps towards the door, hesitating for a second, before knocking on it. She could hear some mayhem taking place inside the house, little footsteps running towards their direction, and the voice of a man, gentle, yet commanding, yelling for someone, before there was silence. Seconds later, the door opened abruptly, revealing who was behind such chaos. A man, tall, advanced in years, with grey hair and a smile so wide and kind it translated into his eyes, was standing before them, holding a giggling toddler in his arms. The three year old girl had golden, chestnut curls pulled into two braids; eyes the colour of midnight sky, and a mischievous grin on her face that would easily let any parent know she was a handful. Moiraine felt herself melt at such sight. 

“Moiraine!” The older man happily exclaimed, opening his eyes in surprise, hastily stepping aside to let the pair in. “It’s been so long, four years if I’m not mistaken, what are you doing here?” He asked, shifting the toddler from one arm to the other, who had suddenly gone silent at the presence of the two strangers. 

Moiraine knew she ought to answer, her brain knew as much, but she couldn’t draw her gaze away from the little girl in the man’s arms. She was so precious, every bit of endearing and magical as she had pictured her to be. She instantly felt compelled to take the toddler into her arms, and realised what a terrible mistake she’d made by returning. You fool! You most definitely aren’t ready. You’re endangering everything. 

“We're on Tower’s business,” Lan rushed to explain, noticing Moiraine was too absent minded to do so herself, “and we thought we’d stop by. My name is Lan Mandragoran, I’m Moiraine’s Warder.” He said, extending a hand towards him, which the older man shook happily. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Lan. I’m Torvin, Anvaere’s husband. ” He introduced himself, with a big smile, as he tilted his face towards the little girl resting her head on his shoulder. “This is our daughter, Guinevere. Winnie, this is your aunt Moiraine, and his Warder, Lan. Aren’t you going to say hi?” 

Guinevere stared at them, a shy smile covering her face, before she nudged even further into her father’s chest. “Has a mouse eaten your tongue? Why are you so quiet all of the sudden?” He teased her, as he started tickling the toddler, which managed to get her to erupt in giggles. 

“Darling?” A voice echoed from within the hall, a voice she could recognise anywhere. Moiraine felt herself go pale. Anvaere. “Who is it so late in the evening?” The woman asked, as she joined them in the room, but went still at the sight of their guests. At the sight of one guest in particular. “Moiraine,” she exhaled. 

“Hello, little sister. You look well,” Moiraine said, finally tearing her gaze from the toddler. “You all do.”

“We are.” Anvaere nodded, as she approached her husband, taking the child from his arms protectively into hers, with a hint of worry in her eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by her older sister. “We’re all very happy indeed.” 

“And I’m glad, sister, I truly am.” She professed, taking a quick glance at the young girl before stepping back towards the warder, a flicker of both anger and sympathy showing in Anvaere's expression. “We were sent to Caihrien on Amyrlin’s order and we thought we’d stop here, just as Lan said. Nothing more.” 

Moiraine and Anvaere stared at each other for a moment, silently speaking in their own language no one else knew. Moiraine understood why her sister was acting so guarded. The Aes Sedai puckered her eyes into a pleading expression, biting on her lip. I just want to see her. I’m not here to take her away from you. Anvaere felt her chest tighten at such sight, she couldn’t help but to empathise with her older sister. It broke her heart to see her like that. 

“You better join us for dinner, then.” Anvaere smiled, leaving a kiss on Guinevere’s temple. “You’ll always be welcome to stay here, sister.” 

Dinner went smoothly, their discussions centred around Barthanes’ travels to visit his uncle, how expertly he faired despite his young age, the latest scandals among Cairhien’s noble Houses, news from the Sun Palace, and whatever little they could speak of the Tower. Yet it ended fairly quickly, under the excuse that they needed to put Guinevere to bed early, lest she got moody. 

Anvaere had cambers prepared for the both of them, separate of course, as Lan was guided into one of the guests’ rooms and Moiraine into her own childhood bedroom. She was settling in, a torrent of memories coming back to her, when she heard a shy knock on the door, and then noticed someone peeking through a small gap in the opening. A tiny someone. And suddenly, a little girl came in rushing, lightly closing the door behind her. Moiraine remained still in her place next to the fireplace, deliberating on whether sending the girl back to her room, or allowing her to stay. 

Guinevere stood quiet, her back rigid against the door, her gaze set intensely into the older woman’s. “Is it true you’re an Aes Sedai? My brother says you are one.” She asked, bluntly, a hint ofboth fear and curiosity ringing in her voice.

Moiraine couldn’t help but smile. “I am,” she said, raising the hand where she carried her ring, “would you like to come see?”

Guinevere eagerly nodded, and then hesitantly walked towards the armchair Moiraine was sitting in. She softly brushed her fingers against the ring, staring in awe at the serpents that shaped it and the blue stone in the middle. “This gives you magic?” She asked. 

“No,” Moiraine softly laughed, removing it from her finger and handing it to the little girl, “the One Power is within all of us, within every stone, every body of water, every burning fire, every wind that blows on your hair. Some women simply are capable of pulling on its weaves.” She explained. Some men, as well. 

“Woah,” Guinevere exhaled, grabbing the ring, the jewel fitting loose on her little finger, “how do you find the weaves?” The child asked, tilting her head in confusion. She didn’t see any strings around, how could someone pull on something it didn’t exist?

“Like this.” Moiraine said, as she moved her hands in smooth motions, causing the fire on the chimney to unexpectedly burn higher and more fiercely. 

Guinevere gasped, both in amazement and fear, as she jumped into Moiraine’s lap, her little hands gripping on her chest. “You don’t need to be scared,” the woman chuckled, instinctively embracing the little girl, “it won’t hurt you.” 

The child kept staring in wonder at the dancing flames, and then turned towards her aunt. “Can I do that too?” Guinevere earnestly asked her, her big eyes, an exact copy of Moiraine’s, full of fascination. That look pulled at the woman’s heart strings, a wave of sadness and nostalgia of what could’ve been filling her with sorrow. Oh, my dearest Siuan, if only you could see her. 

“Maybe,” she whispered, gently tucking a strand of hair behind the little girl’s ear, “we’ll have to wait until you’re older, sometimes the ability to channel comes later. Speaking of late,” she added, taking Guinevere by her arms as to set her on the floor once again, “I believe you should be off to bed.” 

“No!” The girl yelled, holding on tighter to her aunt, all the shyness from before nothing but a stranger to her at that point. “I don’t want to go. I want you to tell me stories about Aes Sedai and magic and monsters.” She begged, pouting, eyes furrowing into the sweetest pleading expression she’d ever seen. How could anyone refuse? She suddenly understood Torvin’s words. 

Moiraine couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, giving in to Guinevere's cries. She helped the girl settle into her lap, a smug smile taking over the toddler’s semblance upon getting what she wanted. “Does that always work for you?” She asked, smiling. 

“Usually.” 

Moiraine started reciting tales about kings and queens from ancient times, as Guinevere’s unwavering stare on her kept turning into frowns and smiles and grins as she listened to the amazing stories her aunt told her. They remained like that, entranced in their own little world, until they heard a voice resound in the hallway. 

“Guinevere!” Anvaere’s angry voice reached them. “Where are you? Torvin, I can’t find Winnie!” She yelled, panic slowly settling into her. 

Moiraine turned towards the toddler. “Does your mother not know you’re here?” The girl shook her head, her face mimicking Moiraine’s own guilty expression. 

“Mama, I’m here!” She screamed, as she hopped off the armchair and ran towards the door. Anvaere barged into the room, just as the girl reached for it. “Winnie,” she sighed, relieved, picking the toddler up in her arms,“what were you doing in here?” 

“Aunt Moiraine was telling me a story!” She exclaimed, excitedly. Anvaere directed her gaze towards her sister, who had stood up, uncomfortably placing her hands on her stomach. “I’m sorry Anvaere, I didn’t know—

“It’s fine,” the woman interrupted her, sending a sympathetic look towards her, “I apologise, I just got concerned when I didn’t see her in her nursery.” 

“I understand.” Moiraine smiled at her sister, gesture that she wholeheartedly returned. 

“I can hardly blame you,” Anvaere sighed, tilting her head towards Guinevere, “I believe it was this little girl who pulled on some strings to get you to tell her stories, didn’t she?” She said, tickling the girl. 

“I-just-wanted-to-hear-some-stories!” The girl said, in between giggles. 

Moiraine lowered her gaze, softly smiling to herself. Wishing for something she long ago gave up, and could have no more. You shouldn’t have come here. She’s happy here. Anvaere can take so much better care of her. 

“Well, it’s time for you to go to bed now, and no more escaping, alright?” Anvaere warned the toddler in her arms. 

“Alright.” She conceded, her arms dropping in defeat. 

“Now say thank you and goodnight to your aunt, and maybe she’ll tell you some more stories tomorrow.” 

“Thank you Aunt Moiraine, goodnight Aunt Moiraine.” Guinevere said, waving a little hand in her direction. 

“Goonight, Guinevere.” 

The following night, Guinevere found her in her room once again. The little girl barged into her room, not bothering to knock, as she already felt comfortable enough in the presence of her aunt, and ran towards her bed, where Moiraine was busy reading a book. 

“Can you tell me another story?” The little girl begged, her face barely reaching the height of the mattress. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, and she was wearing a white nightgown with flower embroidery. Moiraine recognised the piece of clothing as one of her own she used to wear as a child.  

Moiraine squinted her eyes at the girl. “Alright,” she eventually gave in, moving aside so that the toddler could jump into bed next to her. The two of them settled in, and so Moiraine started telling the story about Arthur Hawking and his fallen Empire. And just like the last time, Guinevere remained quiet, with her eyes wide as plates in astonishment, always asking Moiraine to keep on going whenever she tried calling it a night. 

The days in Cairhien passed quickly, each one blending into the next. Moiraine and Lan stayed longer than intended, their presence justified by vague mentions of Tower business. But Moiraine knew the real reason she stayed: Guinevere.

Every evening, Guinevere would sneak into Moiraine’s room, her eyes bright with anticipation. The bond between them grew stronger with each story shared, each moment of wonder at the magic Moiraine could summon. Anvaere allowed such things silently, a mixture of understanding and concern in her eyes.

One of those nights Moiraine came home and went straight to her bedroom, skipping dinner, for the events of the day had drained all energy away from her.

She was on the brink of falling asleep, when she heard the door open, and little footsteps started approaching her bed. She opened her eyes and saw Guinevere carefully walking towards her, carrying a platter full of cheese, bread and ham with her hands. “Mama told me to bring this to you,” she said, as Moiraine sat up against her pillow. The little girl placed the platter over her lap, and then climbed up the bed to sit next to her. 

“Are you sick Aunt Moiraine?” She asked, placing a little hand over the woman’s arm. Moiraine’s heart fluttered at the action. 

“Not sick, just tired.” She said, as she took a bite on a piece of cheese. 

“Oh, I get that,” Guinevere said, nodding, “I get sooo tired sometimes.” She added, theatrically tilting her head to the side and letting her body fall into the mattress. 

“You do?” Moiraine asked, amused at the girl’s cheekiness. 

Guinevere nodded earnestly, her little face serious. “Mama says I’m a handful.”

Moiraine laughed softly. “I can see why she would say that.”

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Moiraine nibbling on the food Guinevere had brought, the little girl watching her with wide, curious eyes.

“Do you want to hear another story?” Moiraine asked, breaking the silence.

Guinevere’s face lit up. “Yes, please!”

Moiraine began telling her about the adventures of the ancient Aes Sedai and their battles against the Shadow. Guinevere listened with fascinated attention, occasionally gasping or giggling at the exciting parts. As the story unfolded, Moiraine felt a warmth spreading through her, a sense of connection and joy she hadn’t felt in a long time. She felt a surge of guilt, knowing Siuan wasn’t there to share such moments with them. 

It was well past Guinevere’s bedtime when Anvaere found them. She stood at the doorway, watching the scene with a mix of emotions. She knew no one else who could control her emotions like her older sister, but would they falter at the girl’s presence? “Winnie, it’s time for bed,” she said softly.

Guinevere pouted but didn’t argue. She slid off the bed and ran to her mother, giving her a hug. “Goodnight, Aunt Moiraine,” she said, waving as Anvaere picked her up.

“Goodnight, Guinevere,” Moiraine replied, feeling a pang of sadness as the door closed behind them.

She lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. Coming back to Cairhien had opened old wounds but also brought unexpected joy. It is so easy. She is so easy, Siuan would be great with her, and Lan adores her. Maybe it could work out.

The following afternoon, Moiraine found herself pacing around her room, thinking about Guinevere, about the time they’d spent together, how seemlessly she blended into her life, when she heard yelling in the hallway. 

“I don’t want to get a bath!” A little voice shouted. 

“Winnie, you don’t get to choose—

“But I want Aunt Moiraine to tell me—

“GUINEVERE!” Anvaere finally raised her voice, as Moiraine made her way into the corridor, to find her sister, fuming, with both her hands on her hips, and feet away from her, a little girl, hair wild as if she had been riding, her dress stained with mud. “This is not a request, you are getting a bath right now before bed.” 

Guinevere crossed her arms, her lower lip jutting out in a stubborn pout. “But I want Aunt Moiraine to tell me a story first,” she insisted.

Anvaere sighed, her frustration melting into a look of resignation. “Moiraine, could you...?”

Moiraine smiled gently. “Of course.” She crouched down to Guinevere’s level, her eyes soft and understanding. “How about this: you take your bath now, and when you’re all clean and ready for bed, I’ll tell you the best story you’ve ever heard. Deal?”

Guinevere’s eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. “Deal!”

“Go on, then,” Moiraine encouraged, giving her a gentle nudge towards the bath. Guinevere scampered off, Anvaere watching her go with a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” Anvaere said quietly, her eyes meeting Moiraine’s.

Moiraine simply nodded, her heart aching with a swirl of emotions she couldn’t quite name. Easy. 

Later that night, Guinevere, freshly bathed and in her nightgown, bounded into Moiraine’s room, her eyes wide with anticipation. She climbed into bed beside her aunt, who took her by the arms and settled her onto her lap, the little girl’s back resting against Moiraine’s legs. 

“Alright, Aunt Moiraine, I’m ready,” she declared.

Moiraine smiled, grabbing the little girl’s hands. “Once upon a time, in a land far to the north...” she began, weaving a tale of adventure and magic, her voice soothing and melodic.

As she spoke, she felt the weight of the world lift off her shoulders, if only for a little while. She glanced down at Guinevere, whose eyes were slowly drooping, her breathing becoming steady and even.

By the time Moiraine finished the story, Guinevere was fast asleep against her chest, her small hand clutching Moiraine’s robe. She softly caressed the little girl’s cheek, rosy and plump. It feels so right. At the moment Moiraine fell asleep, she’d already made her choice. 

The Aes Sedai woke up at the crack of dawn, before anyone else in the household, got up from the bed in a gentle manner so as to not wake Guinevere up, and started packing her bags. She then ran towards the little girl’s nursery, and picked up some clothes for her. That’ll be enough, we can always get more.

She started to feel her heart flicker as she headed towards the barn to get her horse ready, a mix of emotions palpable on her skin. Happy, guilty, scared, unsure, but determined. So very determined. She blocked her connection to Lan, just in case such torrent of sentiments woke the warder up, and bolted towards her room once again. She picked up the little girl on her arms, softly, avoiding to wake her up, rolled her in a blanket, and started to make her way out of the house.  

She skipped through the stairs with ease, and was about to reach the lower entrance, when someone swiftly intercepted her, blocking her way to the door. Torvin. 

Moiraine went stiff, reaching for the One Power, an electrical buzz surrounding her body, ready for confrontation if needed, but the older man didn’t appear to be angry at her, rather he wore a sad and sympathetic look on his face. He was aware of her intentions.

Curse you, Lan. 

“What are you doing, Moiraine?” The old man asked, softly, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Taking my daughter with me, Torvin.” She muttered, her lip quivering. 

“You know this isn’t the way,” Torvin said gently. “Anvaere will be devastated. And Guinevere...she needs stability, a home. She needs her family.”

“She is my family,” Moiraine shot back, her voice breaking. “I’ve given up so much already. I can’t leave her behind again. I won’t.”

Torvin took a step closer, clasping his hands together in a gentle motion. “What has changed, then? Four years ago, you came home with a whimpering baby in your arms, beggings us to take her and raise her as our own, because your life as Aes Sedai wasn’t compatible with a baby’s. Because of a mission sensitive you couldn’t even share with us. What’s different now?” 

Moiraine stood before Torvin, clutching Guinevere protectively, her heart pounding in her chest, as her breathing became uneven. The older man sighed, his expression a mix of understanding and sorrow. “If this is what you’ve chosen, then I guess I can’t convince you otherwise. She is yours, as you say. But taking her now, in the middle of the night… that’s not the answer.” 

She hesitated for a moment, before heading towards the door, brushing past the man. “Well, as you said, it is my choice, and I’m taking her now, whether you like it or—

“No.” A voice came from behind. She turned around, and found Anvaere and Lan rushing towards them from across the hall. “You are not taking her, Moiraine. She’s safe, she’s happy here.” Her sister explained, as she tried to take the child away from her hands. 

Moiraine tightened her grip on the girl, unintentionally causing her to wake up, the toddler slowly opening her eyes. “No, you don’t understand, I can manage now—

“Can you, really?” Anvaere asked, with a sorrowful look on her face, yet still determined to get the toddler into her arms. 

“Yes,” she whimpered, preventing tears from falling into her cheeks, “we can take her with us, she can come with us, she’d love all the travelling, I know—

Moiraine was interrupted by the little girl’s soft sniffles, frightened at being awakened in the middle of the night by her mother and aunt fighting, both pulling on her as if she were a prize. “Mama?” Guinevere cried, turning towards Anvaere, extending her arms towards her. 

Moiraine heart shattered at that, however, she remained reluctant to let her go, or that was until someone laid a hand over her shoulder, in a gentle motion. She glanced to her side. Lan. “Come on, Moiraine.” He whispered, locking eyes with her. We shouldn’t have come. That was all it took. 

She loosened her grip on Guinevere, allowing Anvaere to gently take the child from her arms. The little girl clung to her mother, burying her face in Anvaere’s shoulder, her small frame trembling with confusion and fear.

“Shh, it’s alright, Winnie. Everything’s alright,” Anvaere soothed, stroking Guinevere’s hair and whispering comforting words, as she left the room. 

Moiraine watched as Anvaere carried Guinevere away, her heart breaking into pieces. The child's soft cries echoed down the hall, each one a dagger to Moiraine's stomach. Lan's hand remained on her shoulder, grounding her, but it did little to ease the pain.

"You know she can’t come with us, Moiraine," Lan said gently, his voice low and filled with understanding, “we have a mission, and we cannot fit Guinevere into it, we’d only be hurting her.”

“I-I know,” she acknowledged, cheeks burning in a burgundy shade, “I don’t know what came over me.” She added, crossing her arms over her chest, shame covering every other emotion. She felt so embarrassed. Abducting a child, in the middle of the night, removing her from the warmth and safety of her bed. Not being able to get a grip on her emotions. Losing focus on what really mattered. Betraying her and Siuan’s purpose. Find the Dragon Reborn. It was so unlike her. 

Torvin smiled at her in a kind-hearted manner, as he gently rubbed the woman’s arm. “She is safe here, Moiraine. And so, so loved. She’ll be alright. And know that we will always welcome you in, should you feel the need to visit her.” Moiraine nodded, her eyes filled with unshed tears. They remained in silence, and the house seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all. 

It was Anvaere, returning alone to the room, after putting Guinevere to bed, who broke the silence. “I think you should go, Moiraine.” She said, a sober expression on her face, as she intertwined her arm with Torvin’s. 

Moiraine stared at her sister, realisation sinking on her like an anchor. I can’t ever see her again. The mission is too important. “I think so too.” 

*************

“Guinevere, I—

“Little lady, my lady,” Jhonas interrupted them, as he barged into the room, “your sister is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

She abruptly drew her hand away, frightened by what she was about to do. Two minutes in the girl’s presence and she was already losing all caution. But this time she needed to be in the city. And she suspected she’d need her sister’s help as well, reluctant as she was to accept that. 

She hurried to follow Jhonas into the drawing room, Guinevere’s steady footsteps just behind her, and went almost still, feeling the air get caught up in her throat once again at the sight of her sister. She studied her hair, she was most probably wearing a wig, in an attempt to hide the grey beneath it; she studied the wrinkles around her eyes, tired and weary; she studied the curve of her mouth, surrounded by lines. She looked so much older, not only than before, but so much older than her as well. Her little sister, worn out by time. It was a tragic vision, a deadly punch in the gut. 

“You look well, little sister.” She somehow managed to say, fighting back tears. 

“As you do.” She said, a pleasing smile on her face, before tilting her gaze towards someone behind her. “Winnie, you probably don’t remember her, this is your Aunt Moiraine.” 

“We’ve already introduced ourselves.” Moiraine said, not bothering to glance backwards. 

“I see.” Anvaere replied, the slightest glimmer of rage crossing her eyes. She then extended her arms, gesturing for the girl to come closer to her. “Winnie dearest, weren’t you heading out?” She asked her, grabbing both her hands. 

“I-I was. I should be going, really.” Guinevere stuttered. 

“Then get on with it, darling,” she said, kissing her forehead, “and don’t be too late.” 

“I won’t.” The young girl replied. Anvaere tightened her grip on her hand. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d caused her mother to panic after not returning home before nightfall. “I promise. I’ll be going then. Goodbye Aunt Moiraine.” 

“I’ll see you later, Guinevere.” 

Anvaere waited until the girl was gone, until she shifted her gaze towards her sister again. “Please, sit,” she gestured towards the chair by her side, “we didn’t know—

“I won’t trouble you for tea.” Moiraine rushed to say. “I have stabled my horse, and I would use my old room, if it’s open. But I want to keep a low profile here in the city.”

“Of course, we—

“Jhonas!” She exclaimed, turning towards the older man. “Bring up a Ghaeldanin red from the cellar?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And I need a dress ordered from—

“It’s been a decade, Moiraine!” Anvaere yelled, exasperated by her lack of attention. “Sit!”

Moiraine turned towards her sister, who was trying to gain some composure after her outbreak. “Have some tea.” She asked her. And how much Moiraine wanted that, she couldn’t possibly put in into words. How’d she’d missed her little sister, her companionship, and their talks and gossip reunions. But she was on Cairhien for a mission, and one mission only. Train the Dragon Reborn. She was sure Rand was in the city, somewhere. And she had to find him. 

“Perhaps lunch,” she said, and added, just before she left the room, “there’s someone I need to meet today.” 

She did felt terrible, leaving her sister, who simply wanted to have tea with her, alone, after fifteen years of not seeing each other, but her duty towards Rand was too important. 

She ran towards her childhood bedroom, and carefully put on some clothes. A blue dress with a lace, white turtleneck underneath, and of course the blue stone on her forehead, all with the purpose of avoiding people noticing what she was no more. She strolled around the room, reminiscing about her old self. Her book collection, her jewellery, her desk. Everything was exactly the same, covered in a thin layer of dust. Except for some things. Her music box was missing, a handful of books as well. Why would Anvaere touch such things? She closed her eyes as to clear her head, realising she was spending time she did not have, and rushed out of the door. 

She picked up the wine Jhonas had left for her, and hurried out the house, before anyone saw her. 

Moiraine came back home later than she’d expected, a defeated look on her face. She did not find Rand. She did not find anyone capable of saying where he was. Where he had been, yes, at the Sanitarium, but for some reason he missed work that day. She’d found out the inn he had been staying, but was there no more, since the place had apparently burned out. And Moiraine suspected Rand’d had something to do with it. Which meant she was too late. It was ridiculous to assume he would get a hold of his power in under six months, unassisted as well. She had been too late in searching for him. She’d failed. All because she’d been too focused moping about her, about losing her connection to the One Power. So egoistic. She, her problems, all of that was too unimportant in comparison to what the Wheel had prepared for Rand. She couldn’t let anything else drift her away from her mission, even when she felt she was asphixiating, fighting death every single day since she was cut out from the One Power. But she didn’t allow herself to keep on dwelling on such matters. 

She let out a breath as she walked into the house, peeking through the door to her sister’s chambers, dancing shadows indicating a warm fire was burning in the fireplace. She knew she ought to go to her. She wanted to. But she couldn’t deal with her at that moment. Focus. 

Moiraine walked away, towards her room, and was surprised to see Anvaere already there, waiting for her, sitting on an armchair beside the chimney. “You’ll pardon the intrusion, but I didn’t want to miss you. Please, sit.”

“Anvaere,” she sighed, putting a hand on her forehead, “I’ve had a long day. I…

“This is not what a woman should have to do to talk to the sister she spent half her life idolising.” Her little sister complained, yet somehow Moiraine felt as if she were being scolded. 

“If you want me to apologise for leaving,” she replied, shaking her head, “I won’t. An Aes Sedai cannot lie.” Could she? Can I claim myself an Aes Sedai any longer? 

“No, no, of course not.” Anvaere was quick to say, as Moiraine paced around the room. “In truth, you did nothing I wouldn’t have, if I could’ve channelled. Light knows I tried, on nights when our family’s future looked dim. After Uncle ruined us. After you left.” She said, with a hint of resentment on her voice. “But Father always held out hope that one day you’d come back and fix it all. You were his shining star. Shooting star, as it turned out, never to return once you left our sky. ”

“I…” Moiraine was as out of breath as she was out of words. It’s all too much. Her father, her sister, Rand, Guinevere. Siuan. She’d failed so many people. A lifetime wouldn’t be able to make up for all she’d done to them. “I would’ve come back if I could…” she murmured, taking a seat in front of her. 

“Spare me the false penitence.” Anvaere brushed her off. “You had your work, and I had mine. Less important, certainly, but no less demanding. Unless the Tower also taught you how to smile after someone spits in your eye? And I endured all of it with a little boy and a newborn girl to look after. But I got on with my work, just as you did with yours. Now my son is going to marry the Queen, and my daughter is the youngest Aes Sedai in years, and nobody will ever spit on House Damodred again.” 

Moiraine stared at her, sadness almost tangible on her eyes. “You’ve done well, little sister. Better than I would’ve done with the hand you were dealt.”

“Thank you, Moiraine.” Anvaere nodded, a smug grin on her face. “But somehow, finally, I don’t care what you think. I’m not here for your approval. I’m here because you will not endanger what I’ve worked all my life to build. You will not endanger Guinevere again.” 

Moiraine stood up, anger building up on her chest. It infuriated her, the way they talked about Guinevere, about her daughter, around her, as if she were any less concerned for her safety than them. “Sister, I truly am not—

“This is not your house. This is not your city.” She is no longer your daughter. “And I’m not your little sister anymore. All the eyes and ears you had here… they’re mine now. The head of the sanitarium, Celestin. The guard you hailed at the gate, Sandair. If you want to know where that redheaded boy in the inn went… you’re going to have to ask me very nicely, over tea.” Anvaere proclaimed, her lips turning into an arrogant smile, as she handed her a cup of tea, leaving Moiraine with no other choice than to accept it. 

Lanfear. It had to be her, it all fitted together. Rand was in danger, the fate of the world was in peril. Moiraine waited until Anvaere left, before she hurried into some more comfortable clothes: a loose pair of pants and a chape would do. She searched for a sword on a coffin she kept in her chambers, and placed it on her back, attached with a leather string. She opened the door to her room in a hurry, and almost collided into Guinevere, who was standing just there, with a box full of items on her arms, about to knock on the door. Moiraine found it hard not to gasp. She knew it’d be unavoidable, running into the girl, and she was prepared for it, as she had years of practing forcing her emotions confined, but nonetheless she found herself in stupor, each time she saw her. It feels like looking into a mirror. 

“Oh, Aunt Moiraine,” she muttered, equally shocked, grasping on the box about to fall out of her arms, “I just wanted you to give you these—

“I don’t have time, Guinevere.” She said, walking past her, not sparing her a second glance. It wasn’t easy, turning her down like that, but it was for the best. 

“Where are you going so late in the night?” The girl asked, curiosity evident in her voice, as she steadily followed her steps. 

“This doesn’t concern you.” Moiraine snapped at her, rather harshly, but it didn’t seem to upset the girl, who was too busy examing her thoroughly. 

“And with a sword on your back…” Guinevere muttered, suddenly going quiet, as realisation fell upon her. “You can’t touch the One Power.” She whispered. “You’ve been stilled.” 

Moiraine stopped abruptly on her tracks, and turned around, holding back tears, pursing her lips into a dangerously fine line. She stared at her, an intense rush of anger reaching towards the girl, as she silently begged her not to comment on it anymore. 

“Then take me with you.” Guinevere promptly said. “Whatever it is you have to do, whoever you need to fight, especially if you need a sword with you… take me.”

Moiraine fell silent, her mind racing. It did make sense, to have someone who could actually touch the Source go with her. Taking Guinevere with her, even if she were putting the girl in terrible danger, would be the cautious thing to do. The prudent, so evidently obvious and sensible thing to do… if finding Rand was indeed what mattered to her the most in the world. 

“No.” She finally snarled, getting on with her path. And yet Guinevere followed. Moiraine was reminded of something Siuan had told her a few years ago, shortly after Guinevere had joined the Tower. She’s as stubborn as her mother. 

“But Aunt Moiraine, you’ll need—

“I don’t need anything from you.” Moiraine said, forcing cruelty into her voice. “I can manage on my own, Guinevere.”

The girl stared back at her, dejection filling her eyes, as years of resentment and built up anger stiffened her body, yet keeping a straight face. “Fine.” She shrugged her shoulders, voice laced with poison. “Go. I don’t care.” 

Moiraine turned around, as she couldn’t stand one more second of all the loathing directed her way, and left. I’m so sorry I’ve failed you too.

********

Chapter 3 here!

[sixth-light]

TGH/TDR vs WoT season 2: what's in and what's out pt 2 (worldbuilding)

This time we're doing concepts and settings introduced in TGH/TDR (or introduced in EoTW but not in S1 of the show).

Introduced in EoTW but not S1 Caemlyn Andoran politics inc. Tigraine's disappearance

Tar Valon was substituted for Caemlyn in S1 but I believe it has been confirmed as a setting for S3. In terms of information viewers need to remember, Andoran politics only *really* start to matter when we kick off the Succession plotline & I expect will be scattered throughout future seasons until we get to the main event in S5-6 or so. If Slayer is in S3 (I think this has also been suggested) then we could start to get some infodumps about the whole Tigraine & Luc disappearance drama there. (Side-note: I think show-only people are going to find it hilarious if Rand has an uncle Luke (Luc).)

Introduced in TGH Cairhien Daes Dae'mar Illuminators The Choedan Kal (not named) Ogier politics and culture The search for the Car'a'carn Seanchan/the Hailene The secret of the a'dam/sul'dam The Black Ajah The Accepted test

Still missing from the show but first introduced in TGH: Ogier politics and culture(differences between steddings), the existence and location of the Choedan Kal, and the Illuminators. The Ogier stuff may or may not EVER be relevant. The Choedan Kal can & should be introduced to up the stakes from Callandor when it proves too dangerous, although may get easter egg mentions prior, quite possibly as a Lanfear back-up plan. The Illuminators - again only necessary when gunpowder and its potential for weapons start to become relevant. They could be introduced in Tanchico if the plot goes there or as refugees from the Seanchan. (NB: I think show-only people are also going to be REALLY sideswiped by that whole plot, gunpowder weapons are so rare in the popular perception of epic fantasy. It's going to make WoT really stand out.) Another note: in the show the fact that the a'dam can be used on sul'dam remains a secret from the Seanchan and was not presented as an empire-shattering discovery, and the lore has changed so sul'dam are just very weak in the Power. I think there's a chance that in the show it becomes something known but suppressed in Seanchan rather than a genuine/complete rediscovery. Given how long channelers live that would check out; the books never make anything of it but Alivia is old enough that when she was born there were still a few free channelers in Seanchan. The 'Consolidation' was not a short victorious war but a multi-century period.

Introduced in TDR Tear (the city/Stone), Illian, and Ghealdan Darkhounds Wolfbrothers losing themselves Wolves and the Dream/prophetic wolf dreams Wide-scale ta'veren effects Tel'aran'rhiod Forsaken controlling nations (including specifically Illian, Tear, and Andor) Grey Men Callandor/the fall of the Stone Mat's luck Set-up for the Tower Coup Egwene as a Dreamer/Egwene's prophetic Dreams Balefire Fireworks as weapons

As with characters, there's a lot of worldbuilding from TDR that hasn't come into play yet! I think this is mostly for pacing reasons. On the other hand, we actually got a lot of Tel'aran'rhiod in S2 which aligns with TDR, a book where characters spend about half their time having prophetic dreams (or so it feels like).

Mat's luck and Egwene's Dreaming abilities - these are solid/obvious S3 arcs for these characters that they didn't have time for in S2. No question we'll see them next season, I think, although Mat's luck might have more of a slow-burn introduction than just suddenly working.

The Forsaken - have only just all been released! We'll certainly see them taking over nations in the next season or two.

Darkhounds, Wolfbrother lore, Callandor, fireworks as weapons - I think this has all been held back for pacing. Famously Perrin's plot needs to be spread out to give him stuff to do in later seasons. He might not get prophetic dreams though since it's a bit of a repeat of Egwene's Dreaming and never goes anywhere much.

Similarly, it's a Big Deal when Rand gets Callandor and then it...stays where it is for five books, that's not good TV pacing. I suspect he will pick it up just in time to try using it and fail against the Seanchan. And we don't need to think about fireworks as weapons until Mat is in a place to take advantage of the possibilities.

Balefire, widespread ta'veren effects, Grey Men - these are all things which pose the question 'why aren't they being used all the time' once they're introduced, and the latter two will be quite hard to effectively and efficiently do in a visual medium. We'll get balefire eventually but at a much higher power level for our characters, and the other two we might never get at all.

Tear and Illian - genuinely no idea when we'll get to these cities! Illian we may never visit as not a lot happens there that has to happen *there*. We'll go to Tear (the city proper) at SOME point but...depends on a lot of things exactly when.

[helpitsaskingmequestions]

Continuing the process of niche petty nitpicks of Wheel of TIme  there were some narrative choices for the  7 Ajah that make them (imo) uncertain in a way that I think could have been smoothed out in a way to make more narrative sense in terms of motivation, size and narrative framing. 

Reds - 

The Reds at least have a clear purpose in and out of the narrative as Aes Sedai that hunt male channelers & an antagonistic force against Moraine (Blue) and Rand (Male channeler). They’re problems largely come in how the text largely frames them as Narrative Heels but for Pevara & to some extent Teslyn and Silviana, all of whom are introduced fairly late. Even then, the Reds are largely characterised as 90s misandrists,n keeping with Alanna’s framing of the Reds as ‘hating men’ because that's what should define a group of women, how they relate to men. Then comes the size of the Reds - it’s been noted that there are less people who can channel being discovered, in part due to the Vileness and the culling of men who can channel by the Reds (and also Cansaune) yet the Reds are the largest Ajah. That the Reds have the strongest numbers is imo a very blunt object solution to 1) making the Blue’s more like an underdog and 2) have a large ground for Black Ajah. 

Changes that I think would have made the Reds more palatable from a worldbuild perspective 

Expand the purpose - the show did this, effectively making the Reds magic cops, which provides a more concrete cause for Reds to devote themselves to - hunting wayward Aes Sedai, men who can channel and Dark Friends. It would also help explain why there are so many Black Ajah in the Red - what better way to hide from the cops than to Be the cops?

Let them have Warders - there was no reason for them not to have warders, female or male or otherwise. 

Shrink their size - have the Reds be in the middle of the pack in terms of numbers, or else have them have a high casualty/fail rate that can be explained by difficult weaves & Black Ajah sisters etc. There is no logical reason for them to be that big. 

I mean ⅕ of all Aes Sedai Robert?

Don’t define them by ‘hating men’. Robert I am in your walls

Non-antagonist Reds early on - whether Pevara or Teslyn, just some calmer Reds, who do genuinely want to Hunt Dark-friends. Use the Wonder Girls time in the White Tower not just as a box tick, explore the Ajahs more.  

Show - on page - what a male channel who succumbed to the Taint looks like. The books give (imo) hints describing the Breaking but its not seen on page & I feel that this concrete example of why male channellers are cut off from the Source, why the Reds hunt them, and why people fear Rand/male channelers would be important considering we get a lot of on page stuff (Logain, Thom re his nephew) about the pain of gentling male channelers

Browns 

Ah the Browns. Clean direct purpose. Narrative letting them fulfil that function. Ajah of Verin, the Best Character in Wheel of Time (no arguments to be taken on this point. I am simply Correct). I find very little to be changed with the Browns, though I do think that there should have been an exploratory division if this is the Ajah of knowledge. 

Also not entirely certain why the White/Grey/see Ajah colours post is separate from the Brown beyond the fact RJ was a physics major 

Best Ajah - should have had an Indiana Jones Brown/Orange sister finding Age of Legends stuff

That the Browns get warders makes the fact the Reds, a physical division actively fighting people, not having Warders more insane. Robert WHY

Should have schools/ travelling schools as well 

Why no Browns in Rand’s nerd school Robert?

Yellow

Much like the Brown, a wonderfully defined Ajah, with a clear purpose in and out of universe.

Let them be nicer to Nynaeve

Black Yellows should have been allowed to go full Dr Moreau

Imagine fresh monsters

Green

The Green Ajah - the Battle Ajah. imo Robert Jordan’s favourite Ajah considering 2 out of 3 of the Wondergirls chose the Green (even though Egg should have been Ajahless its fine I’m calm so Calm) and the Green get to ‘love men’ because as the narrative has made clear, how these groups of women from this administrative magical institution feel about Men is what is important. Also a fun experiment - check to see what colours get positive associations in the books - generally it’s blue, green and white (listed as Lan’s favourite colours for instance). The Greens are also an unfortunate victim of the Gender Stuff in WoT- the Battle Ajah don’t get weapons, but they can have lots of Men who can have weapons. Because they Love Men. 

Changes

Let them have weapons Robert ffs 

Active preparation for the Last Battle; should have the third most number of advisors/relationships in nations as Greys(Purples) and Blues. 

Why are they ignoring the Borderlands? This is their Job 

I think the show made a good case for the Greens and the Reds going to nab Logain

So why are the Greens more allied with the Blues than the Reds - other than Author Caveat

Elayne and Egwene shouldn’t have been Green. Neither should Cadsuane.

More Black sisters in the Green - if the Green are going to be fighting in the last battle it should be chock full of enemy agents  

Blue

What do the Blue do? They Hunt After Causes - but what does the Mean? No Really what does it mean, apart from being Vague and because RJ couldn’t say ‘they’re the Good ajah’ even though they only ‘like men’. Other than their complete lack of purpose, the Blues get a good history, a good selection of the Good/Great (Moraine) to the bad (Sheriam). The Show made a good change in making the Blue’s the spies of the White Tower, giving them a quasi opposing ideological approach to the head-first reds, and making the Alliance of Greens and Blues make more sense considering how much they would need to work together. 

If Egg must have an Ajah she should have been Blue 

The fact that blues removed the 2 Red Amyrlin’s, there should have been more arguments amongst the Ajah’s about how justified they were/the justice of that 

Lean into the Reds being Cops and Blues being spies/activist/journalists/internal affairs with a habit of exposing/attempting to expose other sister’s misbehaviour 

Have Blue sisters attempting to uncover the Vileness in a way that actually sets it up as a mystery to be solved, not another plot thread among thousands

I have a Bee in my Bonnet about the Vileness  if you couldn’t tell 

Make the Blues less of an protagonist situation - oh they have the second smallest numbers But the Most Amyrlins and a lot of influence because they’re the opposite of the Reds 

Grey/Purple Ajah 

They have purpose If only the narrative would let them fulfil that purpose. Instead Elaida is a Red so political advisors can be any colour so why?

Also why are they always bad at their jobs

Should have been the largest Ajah change my mind 

White/Grey Ajah 

SO

I understand they have a purpose 

I just don’t understand why/how it is different to the Brown’s search for knowledge 

They’re apparently philosophers as well so it's not a STE(M) v Arts situation

Why Robert 

You didn’t have the Seven Ajahs have the Seven colours why are they Here? 

Because Alviarin being White and the Head Black was a fun twist? 

You did that colour twist with Lanfear already 

What this Ajah needed was a major character who wasn’t Black

Like Give Rand an advisor who is this Ajah during his spiral 

Or Give Egg some prominent sisters of this Ajah? 

Have their theoretical magic that they do have an impact

Or give them the prophecies / religious theorisation - aka a reason for them to be in this story at all 

Black Ajah

There is no Black Ajah what are you talking about 

[blood-inthefields]

i just saw you're watching wot and I'm curious which ajah do you think tissaia, yenna and co would choose

both wot and the witcher are my hyperfixations rn so this is a question I've been thinking about very hard lol

Hmm hard to say. Especially for Yennefer. I think she would be either green or red ajah, though I feel none of them really fit her 100%.

Tissaia would be either grey, or brown, or perhaps blue.

Triss is yellow through and through.

I could see Sabrina embrace the red ajah.

What are your thoughts, anon??