Towers of Midnight

45 A Reunion

Elayne woke in her bed, bleary-eyed. “Egwene?” she said, disoriented. “What?” The last memories of the dream were dissolving like honey consumed by warm tea, but Egwene’s words remained firm in Elayne’s mind. The serpent has fallen, Egwene had sent. Your brother’s return was timely.

Elayne sat up, feeling a surge of relief. She had spent the entire night trying to channel enough to make her dream ter’angreal work, to no avail. When she’d found out that Birgitte had turned away Gawyn—while Elayne sat inside, furious but unable to attend the meeting with Egwene—she’d been livid.

Well, Mesaana had been defeated, it seemed. And what was that about her brother? She smiled. Perhaps he and Egwene had worked out their problems.

Morning light peeked through the drapes. Elayne sat back, feeling the powerful warmth through the bond with Rand that had appeared there. Light, but that was a wonderful sensation. The moment she’d begun feeling it, the cloud cover around Andor had broken.

It had been about a week since the testing of the dragons, and she’d put all of the bellfounders in her nation to work on creating them. These days, one could hear a steady sound in Caemlyn, repeating booms as members or the Band trained with the weapons in the hills outside of the city. So far, she had let only a few of the weapons be used for training; the different teams rotated practicing on them. She’d gathered the larger number in a secret warehouse inside Caemlyn for safekeeping.

She thought about the dream sending again. She hungered for specifics. Well, Egwene would probably send a messenger by gateway eventually.

The door cracked, and Melfane looked in. “Your Majesty?” the short, round-faced woman asked. “Is everything all right? I thought I heard a cry of pain.” Ever since lifting her ban on Elayne remaining in bed, the midwife had decided to sleep in the antechamber outside Elayne’s bedroom to keep a careful watch on her.

“That was an exclamation of joy, Melfane,” Elayne said. “A greeting for the wonderful morning that has come to us.”

Melfane frowned. Elayne tried to act cheerful around the woman, to persuade her that more bed rest wasn’t needed, but perhaps that last part had been a little much. Elayne couldn’t afford to appear as if she were forcing herself to be happy. Even if she was. Insufferable woman.

Melfane walked in and pulled open the drapes—sunlight was good for a woman with child, she’d explained. Part of Elayne’s treatment lately had been to sit in her bed with the covers drawn back, letting the spring sunlight bake her skin. As Melfane moved, Elayne felt a little tremble from inside. “Oh! There was another. They’re kicking, Melfane! Come feel!”

“I won’t be able to feel it yet, Your Majesty. Not until they’re stronger.” She began the normal daily routine. Listen to Elayne’s heartbeat, then listen for the babe’s. Melfane still wouldn’t believe there were twins. After that, she inspected and prodded Elayne, performing all of the tests in her secretive list of annoying and embarrassing things to do to women.

Finally, Melfane placed hands on hips, regarding Elayne, who was doing up her nightgown. “I think you’ve been straining yourself too much lately. I want you to be certain to take proper rest. My cousin Tess’s daughter had a child not two years ago who was birthed barely breathing. Light be thanked that the child survived, but she had been working the fields late through the day before and not taking proper meals. Imagine! Take care of yourself, my Queen. Your babies will be thankful for it.”

Elayne nodded, relaxing. “Wait!” she said, sitting up. “Babies?”

“Yes,” Melfane said, walking to the door. “There are two heartbeats in your womb, sure as I have two arms. Don’t know how you knew it.”

“You heard the heartbeats!” Elayne exclaimed, elated.

“Yes, they’re there, sure as the sun.” Melfane shook her head and left, sending in Naris and Sephanie to dress her and brush her hair.

Elayne endured the process in a state of amazement. Melfane believed! She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

An hour later, she settled into her small sitting room, windows all thrown open to let in the sunlight, sipping warm goat’s milk. Master Norry entered on long spindly legs, tufts of hair sticking up behind the backs of his ears, face long and peaked, leather folder under his arm. He was accompanied by Dyelin, who didn’t usually attend the morning meeting. Elayne raised an eyebrow at the woman.

“I have the information you requested, Elayne,” Dyelin said, pouring herself some morning tea. Today it was cloudberry. “I hear Melfane heard heartbeats?”

“She did indeed.”

“My congratulations, Your Majesty,” Master Norry said. He opened his folder and began arranging his papers on the tall, narrow table beside her chair. He rarely sat down in Elayne’s company. Dyelin took one of the other comfortable chairs beside the hearth.

What information had Elayne requested of the woman? She didn’t recall asking for anything specific. The question distracted her as Norry went over the daily reports on the various armies in the area. There was a list of altercations between sell-sword groups.

He also talked of food problems. Despite the Kinswomen making gateways to Rand’s lands to the south for supply—and despite the caches of unexpected food stores that had been discovered in the city—Caemlyn was running low.

“Finally, as for our, um, guests,” Norry said. “Messengers have arrived with the anticipated responses.”

None of the three Houses whose nobility had been captured could afford to pay ransom. Once the Arawn, Sarand and Marne estates had been among the most productive and extensive in Andor—and now they were destitute, their coffers dry, their fields barren. And Elayne had left two of them without leadership. Light, what a mess!

Norry moved on. She had a letter from Talmanes, agreeing to move several companies of soldiers from the Band of the Red Hand to Cairhien. She ordered Norry to send him a writ with her seal, authorizing the soldiers to “lend aid restoring order.” That was, of course, nonsense. No order needed to be restored. But if Elayne was ever going to move for the Sun Throne, she’d need to make some preliminary moves in that direction.

“This is what I wanted to discuss, Elayne,” Dyelin said as Norry began to pack up his papers, arranging each one with meticulous care. Light help them if one of those precious pages tore or got a stain on it.

“The situation in Cairhien is… complex,” Dyelin said.

“When is it not?” Elayne asked with a sigh. “You’ve information on the political climate there?”

“It’s a mess,” Dyelin said simply. “We need to talk about how you’re going manage the maintenance of two nations, one in absence.”

“We have gateways,” Elayne said.

“True. But you must to find a way to take the Sun Throne without letting it look as if Andor is subsuming Cairhien. The nobility there might accept you as their queen, but only if they see themselves as equals to the Andorans. Otherwise, the moment they’re out of your sight, the schemes will grow like yeast in a warm bowl of water.”

“They will be the equals of the Andorans,” Elayne said.

“They won’t see it that way if you go in with your armies,” Dyelin said. “The Cairhienin are a proud people. To think of themselves living conquered beneath Andor’s Crown…”

“They lived beneath Rand’s power.”

“With all due respect, Elayne,” Dyelin said. “He is the Dragon Reborn. You are not.”

Elayne frowned, but how did one argue with that?

Master Norry cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, Lady Dyelin’s advice is not born of idle speculation. I, um, have heard things. Knowing of your interests in Cairhien…”

He’d been growing better at gathering informants. She’d turn him into a regular spymaster yet!

“Your Majesty,” Norry continued, voice lower. “Rumors are claiming that you’ll soon come to seize the Sun Throne. There is already talk of rebellion against you. Idle speculation, I’m certain, but…”

“The Cairhienin could see Rand al’Thor as an emperor,” Dyelin said. “Not a foreign king. That is a different thing.”

“Well, we don’t need to move armies to take the Sun Throne,” Elayne said thoughtfully.

“I… am not certain of that, Your Majesty,” Norry said. “The rumors are quite pervasive. It seems that as soon as the Lord Dragon announced the throne was to be yours, some elements in the nation began working—very subtly—to prevent it from happening. Because of these rumors, many people worry that you will seize the titles of the Cairhienin nobility and give them to Andorans instead. Others claim you will relegate any Cairhienin to a secondary state of citizenship.”

“Nonsense,” Elayne said. “That’s plain ridiculous!”

“Obviously,” Norry said. “But there are many rumors. They do tend to, um, grow like chokevines. The sentiment is strong.”

Elayne gritted her teeth. The world was fast coming to be a place for those with strong alliances, knit together with bonds of both blood and paper. She had the best chance of uniting Cairhien and Andor that any queen had had in generations. “Do we know who has been starting the rumors?

“That has been very difficult to ascertain, my Lady!” Norry said.

“Who stands to benefit most?” Elayne asked. “That’s the first place we should look for the source.”

Norry glanced at Dyelin.

“Any number of people could benefit,” Dyelin said, stirring her tea “I would guess that those with the greatest chance of taking the throne themselves would benefit the most.”

“Those who resisted Rand,” Elayne guessed.

“Perhaps,” Dyelin said. “Or perhaps not. The strongest of the rebellious elements received great attention from the Dragon, and many of them were either converted or broken. So his allies—those he trusted most, or who professed greatest allegiance to him—are the ones we should probably suspect. This is Cairhien, after all.”

Daes Dae’mar. Yes, it would make sense for Rand’s allies to resist her ascent to the throne. Those who had been favored by Rand would be favored for the throne, should Elayne prove incapable. However, those people would also have undermined their chances by professing allegiance to a foreign leader.

“I should think,” Elayne said thoughtfully, “that those in the best position for the throne would be those in the middle. Anyone who didn’t oppose Rand, and so didn’t earn his ire. But also someone who didn’t support him too wholeheartedly—someone who can be viewed as a patriot who can reluctantly step in and take power once I’ve failed.” She eyed the other two. “Get me the names of anyone who has risen sharply in influence recently, a nobleman or woman who fits those criteria.”

Dyelin and Master Norry nodded. Eventually, she would probably have to build a stronger network of eyes-and-ears, as neither of these two was perfectly suited to leading them. Norry was too obvious, and he already had enough to do with his other duties. Dyelin was… well, Elayne wasn’t certain what Dyelin was.

She owed much to Dyelin, who seemed to have taken it upon herself to act as a surrogate mother to Elayne. A voice of experience and wisdom. But eventually, Dyelin would have to take a few steps back. Neither of them could afford to encourage the notion that Dyelin was the real power behind the throne.

But Light! What would she have done without the woman? Elayne had to steel herself against the sudden surge of feeling. Blood and bloody ashes, when was she going to get over these mood swings? A queen couldn’t afford to be seen crying on a whim!

Elayne dabbed her eyes. Dyelin wisely said nothing.

“This will be for the best,” Elayne said firmly, to distract attention from her treacherous eyes. “I’m still worried about the invasion.”

Dyelin said nothing to that. She didn’t believe that Chesmal had been talking of a specific invasion of Andor; she thought that the Black sister had been speaking of the Trolloc invasion of the Borderlands. Birgitte took the news more seriously, beefing up soldiers on the Andoran borders. Still, Egwene would very much like to have control of Cairhien; if Trollocs were to march on Andor, through her sister realm would be one of the avenues they might use.

Before the conversation could go further, the door to the hallway opened, and Elayne would have jumped in alarm had she not felt that it was Birgitte. The Warder never knocked. She strode in, wearing a sword—reluctantly—and her knee-high black boots over trousers. Oddly, she was followed by two cloaked figures, their faces hidden by hoods. Norry stepped back, raising a hand to his breast at the irregularity of it. Everyone knew that Elayne didn’t like to see visitors in the small sitting room. If Birgitte was bringing people here…

“Mat?” Elayne guessed.

“Hardly,” a familiar voice said, firm and clear. The larger of the figures lowered his hood, revealing a perfectly beautiful masculine face. He had a square jaw and a set of focused eyes that Elayne remembered well from her childhood—mostly when he had noticed her doing something wrong.

“Galad,” Elayne said, surprised at the warmth she felt for her half-brother. She rose, holding out her hands toward him. She’d spent most of their childhood frustrated with him for one reason or another, but it was good to see him alive and well. “Where have you been?”

“I have been seeking truth,” Galad said bowing with an expert bow, but he did not approach to take her hands. He rose and glanced to the side. “I found that which I did not expect. Steel yourself, sister.”

Elayne frowned as the second, shorter figure lowered her hood. Elayne’s mother.

Elayne gasped. It was her! That face, that golden hair. Those eyes that had so often looked at Elayne as a child, judging her, measuring her—not merely as a parent measured her daughter, but as a queen measured her successor. Elayne felt her heart beating in her chest. Her mother. Her mother was alive.

Morgase was alive. The Queen still lived.

Morgase locked eyes with Elayne, then—oddly—Morgase looked down. “Your Majesty,” she said with a curtsy, still remaining beside the door.

Elayne controlled her thoughts, controlled her panic. She was Queen, or she would have been Queen, or… Light! She’d taken the throne, and she was at least the Daughter-Heir. But now her own mother came back from the bloody dead?

“Please, sit,” Elayne found herself saying, gesturing Morgase toward the seat beside Dyelin. It did Elayne good to see that Dyelin wasn’t dealing with the shock any better than Elayne. She sat with her hand gripping her cup of tea, knuckles white, eyes bulging.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Morgase said, walking forward, Galad joining her and resting a hand on Elayne’s shoulder in a comforting way. He then fetched himself a seat from the other side of the room.

Morgase’s tone was more reserved than Elayne remembered. And why did she continue to call Elayne that title? The Queen had come in secret, with hood drawn. Elayne regarded her mother, putting the pieces together as she sat. “You renounced the throne, didn’t you?”

Morgase gave a stately nod.

“Oh, thank the Light,” Dyelin said, letting out a loud breath, hand raised to her breast. “No offense, Morgase. But for a moment there, I imagined a war between Trakand and Trakand!”

“It wouldn’t have come to that,” Elayne said, virtually at the same time that her mother said something similar. Their eyes met, and Elayne allowed herself to smile. “We would have found a… reasonable accommodation. This will do, though I certainly wonder at the circumstances of the event.”

“I was being held by the Children of the Light, Elayne,” Morgase said. “Old Pedron Niall was a gentleman in most respects, but his successor was not. I would not let myself be used against Andor.”

“Bloody Whitecloaks,” Elayne muttered under her breath. Light, they’d actually been telling the truth when they’d written, claiming to have Morgase in their possession?

Galad eyed her, raising an eyebrow. He placed the chair he’d brought over, then undid his cloak, revealing the brilliant white uniform underneath, with the sunburst on the breast.

“Oh, that’s right,” Elayne said, exasperated. “I almost forgot that. Intentionally.”

“The Children had answers, Elayne,” he said, sitting. Light, but he was frustrating. It was good to see him, but he was frustrating!

“I don’t wish to discuss it,” Elayne said. “How many Whitecloaks have come with you?”

“The entire force of Children accompanied me to Andor,” Galad said. I am their Lord Captain Commander.”

Elayne blinked, then glanced at Morgase. The elder Trakand nodded. “Well,” Elayne said, “I see we have much to catch up on.”

Galad took that as a request—he could be very literal—and began explaining how he’d come by his station. He was quite detailed about it, and Elayne occasionally glanced at her mother. Morgase’s expression was unreadable.

Once Galad was done, he asked after the Succession war. Conversing with Galad was often like this: an exchange, more formal than familiar. Once, it had frustrated her, but this time she found that—against her better wishes—she’d actually been missing him. So she listened with fondness.

Eventually, the conversation wound down. There was more to talk about with him, but Elayne was dying for a chance to speak just with her mother. “Galad,” Elayne said, “I’d like to talk further. Would you be amenable to an early dinner this evening? You may take refreshment in your old quarters until then.”

He nodded, standing. “That would be well.”

“Dyelin, Master Norry,” Elayne said. “My mother’s survival will lead to some… delicate issues of state. We will need to publish her abdication officially, and quickly. Master Norry, I’ll leave the formal document to you. Dyelin, please inform my closest allies of this news so that they will not be taken by surprise.”

Dyelin nodded. She glanced at Morgase—Dyelin wasn’t one of those whom the former Queen had embarrassed during the days of Rahvin’s influence, but she had undoubtedly heard the stories. Then Dyelin withdrew with Galad and Master Norry. Morgase glanced at Birgitte as soon as the door closed; the Warder was the only other one in the room.

“I trust her like a sister, Mother,” Elayne said. “An insufferable older sister, sometimes, but a sister nonetheless.”

Morgase smiled, then rose and took Elayne by the hands, pulling her up into an embrace. “Ah, my daughter,” she said, tears in her eyes. “Look at what you’ve done! Queen in your own right!”

“You trained me well, Mother,” Elayne said. She pulled back. “And you’re a grandmother! Or soon will be!”

Morgase frowned, looking down at her. “Yes, I thought as much from looking at you. Who…?”

“Rand,” Elayne said, blushing, “though it’s not widely known, and I’d rather it stay that way.”

“Rand al’Thor…” Morgase said, her mood darkening. “That—”

“Mother,” Elayne said, raising a hand to grasp hers. “He’s a good man and I love him. What you have heard is exaggeration or bitter rumor—”

“But he’s… Elayne, a man who can channel, the Dragon Reborn!”

“And still a man,” Elayne said, feeling his knot of emotions in the back of her mind, so warm. “Just a man, for all that is demanded of him.”

Morgase drew her lips into a thin line. “I shall withhold judgment. Though in a way I still feel that I should have thrown that boy in the Palace dungeons the moment we found him skulking in the gardens. I didn’t like how he looked at you even then, mind you.”

Elayne smiled, then gestured back to the seats. Morgase sat, and this time Elayne took the seat directly beside her, still clutching her mother’s hands. She sensed amusement from Birgitte, who stood with her back against the far wall, one knee bent so that the sole of her boot rested against the wood paneling.

“What?” Elayne asked.

“Nothing,” Birgitte said. “It’s good to see you two acting like mother and child, or at least woman and woman, rather than staring at each other like two posts.”

“Elayne is Queen,” Morgase said stiffly. “Her life belongs to her people, and my arrival threatened to upset her Succession.”

“It still might muddy things, Mother,” Elayne said. “Your appearance could open old wounds.”

“I will have to apologize,” Morgase said. “Perhaps offer reparations.” She hesitated. “I had intended to stay away, daughter. It would be best if those who hated me still thought me dead. But—”

“No,” Elayne said quickly, squeezing her hands. “This is for the best. We simply will have to approach it with skill and care.”

Morgase smiled. “You make me proud. You will be a wonderful queen.

Elayne had to force herself to stop beaming. Her mother had never been free with compliments.

“But tell me, before we go further,” Morgase said, voice growing more hesitant. “I have heard reports that Gaebril was…”

“Rahvin,” Elayne said, nodding. “It’s true, Mother.”

“I hate him for what he did. I can see him, using me, driving spikes through the hearts and loyalty of my dearest friends. And yet there is a part of me that longs to see him, irrationally.”

“He used Compulsion on you,” Elayne said softly. “There is no other explanation. We will have to see if any from the White Tower can Heal it.”

Morgase shook her head. “Whatever it was, it is faint now, and manageable. I have found another to give my affection.”

Elayne frowned.

“I will explain that at another point,” Morgase said. “I’m not certain I understand it yet. First we must decide what to do about my return.”

“That is easy,” Elayne said. “We celebrate!”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing, Mother,” Elayne said. “You have returned to us! The city, the entire nation, will celebrate.” She hesitated. “And after that, we will find an important function for you.”

“Something that takes me away from the capital, so I cast no unfortunate shadows.”

“But a duty that is important, so that you are not thought of as having been put out to pasture.” Elayne grimaced. “Perhaps we can give you charge of the western quarter of the realm. I have little pleasure in the reports of what is happening there.”

“The Two Rivers?” Morgase asked. “And Lord Perrin Aybara?”

Elayne nodded.

“He is an interesting one, Perrin is,” Morgase said thoughtfully. “Yes, perhaps I could be of some use there. We have something of an understanding already.”

Elayne raised an eyebrow.

“He was behind my safe return to you,” Morgase said. “He is an honest man, and honorable as well. But also a rebel, despite his good intentions. You will not have an easy time of it if you come to blows with that one.”

“I’d rather avoid it.” She grimaced. The easiest way to deal with it would be to find him and execute him, but of course she wasn’t going to do that. Even if reports had her fuming enough to almost wish that she could.

“Well, we shall begin working on a way.” Morgase smiled. “It will help you to hear of what happened to me. Oh, and Lini is safe. I don’t know if you’ve worried over her or not.”

“To be honest, I didn’t,” Elayne said, grimacing, feeling a spike of shame. “It seems that the collapse of Dragonmount itself couldn’t harm Lini.”

Morgase smiled, then began her story. Elayne listened with awe, and not a little excitement. Her mother lived. Light be blessed, so many things had gone wrong recently, but at least one had gone right.

The Three-fold Land at night was peaceful and quiet. Most animals were active near dusk and dawn, when it was neither sweltering nor freezing.

Aviendha sat on a small rock outcropping, legs folded beneath her, looking down upon Rhuidean, in the lands of the Jenn Aiel, the clan that was not. Once Rhuidean had been shrouded in protective mists. That was before Rand had come. He’d broken the city in three very important very discomforting ways.

The first was the simplest. Rand had taken away the mist. The city had shed its dome like an algai’d’siswai unveiling his face. She didn’t know how Rand had caused the transformation; she doubted that he knew himself. But in exposing the city, he had changed it forever.

The second way Rand had broken Rhuidean was by bringing it water. A grand lake lay beside the city, and phantom moonlight, filtered through clouds above, made the waters shine. The people were calling the lake Tsodrelle’Aman. Tears of the Dragon, though the lake should be called Tears of the Aiel. Rand al’Thor had not known how much pain he would cause in what he revealed. Such was the way with him. His actions were often so innocent.

The third way Rand had broken the city was the most profound. Aviendha was slowly coming to understand this one. Nakomi’s words worried her, unnerved her. They had awakened in her shadows of memories, things from potential futures that Aviendha had seen in the rings during her first visit to Rhuidean, but that her mind could not quite recall, at least not directly.

She worried that Rhuidean would stop mattering very soon. Once, the city’s ultimate purpose had been to show Wise Ones and clan chiefs their people’s secret past. To prepare them for the day when they’d serve the Dragon. That day had come. So who should come to Rhuidean now? Sending the Aiel leaders through the glass columns would be reminding them of toh they had begun to meet.

This bothered Aviendha in ways that itched beneath her skin. She didn’t want to acknowledge these questions. She wanted to continue with tradition. But she could not get them out of her head.

Rand caused so many problems. Still, she loved him. She loved him for his ignorance, in a way. It allowed him to learn. And she loved him for the foolish way he tried to protect those who did not want to be protected.

Most of all, she loved him for his desire to be strong. Aviendha had always wanted to be strong. Learn the spear. Fight and earn ji. Be the best.

She could feel him now, distant from her. They were so alike in this way.

Her feet ached from running. She’d rubbed them with the sap of a segade plant, but she could still feel them throbbing. Her boots sat on the stone beside her, along with the fine woolen stockings that Elayne had given her.

She was tired and thirsty—she would fast this night, contemplating, then refill her waterskin at the lake before going into Rhuidean tomorrow. Tonight, she sat and thought, preparing.

The lives of the Aiel were changing. It was strength to accept change when it could not be avoided. If a hold was damaged during a raid and you rebuilt it, you never made it exactly the same way. You took the chance to fix the problems—the door that creaked in the wind, the uneven section of floor. To make it exactly as it had been would be foolishness.

Perhaps traditions—such as coming to Rhuidean, and even living in the Three-fold Land itself—would need to be reexamined eventually. But for now, the Aiel couldn’t leave the wetlands. There was the Last Battle. And then the Seanchan had captured many Aiel and made Wise Ones into damane; that could not be allowed. And the White Tower still assumed that all Aiel Wise Ones who could channel were wilders. Something would have to be done about that.

And herself? The more she thought of it, she realized that she couldn’t go back to her old life. She had to be with Rand. If he survived the Last Battle—and she intended to fight hard to make certain he did—he would still be a wetlander king. And then there was Elayne. Aviendha and she were going to be sister-wives, but Elayne would never leave Andor. Would she expect Rand to stay with her? Would that mean Aviendha would need to as well?

So troubling, both for herself and her people. Traditions should not be maintained just because they were traditions. Strength was not strength if it had no purpose or direction.

She studied Rhuidean, such a grand place of stone and majesty. Most cities disgusted her with their corrupt filth, but Rhuidean was different. Domed roofs, half-finished monoliths and towers, carefully planned sections with dwellings. The fountains flowed now, and though a large section still bore the scars of when Rand had fought there. Much of that had been cleaned up by the families who lived here, Aiel who had not gone to war.

There would be no shops. No arguments in streets, no murderers in alleys. Rhuidean might have been deprived of meaning, but it would remain a place of peace.

I will go on, she decided. Pass through the glass columns. Perhaps her worries were true, and the passage was now far less meaningful, but she was genuinely curious to see what the others had seen. Besides knowing ones past was important in order to understand the future.

Wise Ones and clan chiefs had been visiting this location for centuries. They returned with knowledge. Maybe the city would show her what to do about her people, and about her own heart.