un_fallen | (no subject)

"I'm not sure what you mean by that," he says, "but it's certain. I tried to go to that time once and thought my head was splitting in two."

A small frown appears.

"... I have heard of similar effects, as it happens, for other causes than one being lost to Shadow."

He looks at his hands, which are twisting restlessly. He stills them with an effort.

"Yeah. Don't think it was quite like this, though."

"But you do not know, do you?"

Moiraine is studying him with close attention, taking note of his every reaction-- and when she speaks again, her tone has softened somewhat.

"All things are part of the Pattern, but the weaving itself is not written in stone, Raguel. And even if it were, there is no stone so hard that water cannot wash it away."

There's a long silence.

"I do know, I think. I've thought it was going to happen for a while. And they all saw me. There are people I know from my own time who are there, so."

He half-smiles at her, weakly.

"Maybe the stone's not permanent, but it's carved pretty deep."

"That does not mean it is by any means certain," she insists. "There are many Mirrors to the Wheel."

Determination has sparked now in the dark eyes, for a number of reasons.

"Why is it that you have thought such a thing would come to pass?"

"It's hard to explain," he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. It's not something he's gone into in depth with many people - certainly none who hadn't been there.

"It's brought on by different things, different temptations. One of those is never quite gone for me, these days. I think it's getting stronger. And I'm not exactly made for the goodness-and-light side of the good guys, anyway."

She sits slightly back in her chair, considering him.

"How is it that you mean?"

He looks at her blankly, wondering about the best way to put this.

"Angels have a certain reputation for being essentially good. Messengers, guardians, that kind of thing. I've never exactly fit into that mold. So I, uh." He taps on the table, wondering vaguely if Moiraine is one to mind smoking nearby.

"Always kinda wondered."

A wry smile touches her lips.

"If it is a matter of reputation, only..."

"My reputation is the sort that keeps all the others away from me for fear that I'll take it into my head to kill them," he says, doubtful.

She tilts her head, looking at him.

"You are not the only one who knows what it is not to be trusted, I think."

"No, I'm sure I'm not," he concedes, rubbing his forehead.

"But I suspected it, and now I know it, and I've only got a few hundred years to figure out what to do about it. Maybe less."

"There are many things that might be done," Moiraine tells him, very calmly. "To know the possible path that lies ahead often gives one the chance to take another way."

"Unless one is ta'veren, and even then, the very fact of their being so is that which exerts alteration upon the Pattern itself."

"Things that might be done?" he repeats. It's not that he's never considered what he might do - it's just a surprise that someone else might have something along similar lines in mind.

"What is ta'veren? 'Cause it might be impossible, but I wouldn't rule anything out at this point."

"I have said it," she replies. "And I may speak no word that is not true, Raguel; I would not have been able to, were it not so."

There is a distinct pause, then, before Moiraine adds, very softly, "As it happens, I myself have some experience with such matters."

Another pause, in which she studies him, and then the Aes Sedai continues, this time in a manner that is much more brisk and matter-of-fact.

"You will have heard me say 'the Wheel weaves.' I speak of the Wheel of Time, that which the Creator made and which by its turning weaves the threads of all life into the Age Lace, which is also known as the Pattern. All things are part of the Pattern."

"However, there are those whose threads are key to the shape and weaving of the Pattern at particular times. These are those who are ta'veren; and to be ta'veren is to have the Pattern itself woven around you."

He looks confused enough for a moment that it's almost hopeful. The look fades into recognition as she continues talking.

"Yeah, I do know what you mean, I think. I know a few people who've been... that... before, and not to their advantage. Myself included, actually. Maybe I'm lucky in that I can say for certain," he adds, and half-smiles.

"I hope there's a purpose to it, I guess. But I still don't know what the purpose was last time."

A very faint smile curves her lips for a bare instant.

"That is more difficult to see, to be certain."

And then it is gone, as Moiraine studies him.

"Do not lose hope, Raguel. The fate that you fear is by no means certain, and you are not alone in those who would wish to see matters remain otherwise."

"Appreciate the thought, but wishing doesn't help matters much," he says, although just at the moment he doesn't look quite as resigned as he had.

"It's still going to happen, I think."

"I do not believe that I said anything at all about merely wishing," she informs him, and for the first time the Aes Sedai allows the diamond-hard will underlying the level tone to show clearly.

"If it is within my ability to do so, I have no intention whatsoever of merely standing by and watching while another is lost to the Shadow, much less someone such as you."

He blinks at the steel in her voice. Eventually he nods very slightly, acknowledgement if not agreement.

"All right," he says. "What do you think I should do?"

She does not let satisfaction show on her face or in her eyes, but Moiraine is certain that the fact that Raguel is asking about that which might be done rather than sitting sunk in hopelessness is no small thing.

"Begin with seeking knowledge," she says. "Changes such as this -- if your future is set, that is, of which I am by no means convinced -- are complex in the accomplishing, and direct or insufficient efforts may have unexpected results."

"But to know the possibilities is the first step in finding a way to move between them."

Dark eyes meet his and hold as Moiraine adds, more gently,

"I will help you as I can, Raguel."

It is a risk that may be a shock and she knows it, but at the same time she well remembers how he had reacted before upon seeing her channel. It is a risk worth taking, and so the Aes Sedai opens herself to saidar. As a faint golden aura shimmers into being around her, warm and bright, she offers him both her hands.

He flinches in shock - again - at the sight of the gold ~~fire~~ outline, but she'd offered help and he knows enough of Moiraine to recognize that she means him no harm. As to what the effects of their particular backgrounds meshed together like this might be... well, there's no way to predict that.

It's not like things can go downhill from here, and he's pretty sure she knows enough of her craft to protect herself. He reaches out and takes her hands in his.

The light around her brightens and spreads outward.

It is not a link in the manner that it would be in her world, with others who are Aes Sedai; nor is it exactly the sort of careful meshing that she has attempted before with the power possessed by Will Stanton and Merriman Lyon, not to mention Raven. Still, Moiraine by now has some familiarity with the possibilities that exist at the intersection of such things, and it is that which drives her now as she attempts to allow Raguel, through her intercession, to experience the glorious, incomparable joy that comes with embracing saidar-- the One Power, drawn from the True Source, the very force of creation itself.

Raguel's eyes are wide in the glow cast by the golden light, his breathing unsteady and almost fearful. He's even more distracted when he realizes the light that meets Moiraine's golden aura at their joined hands is his own.

The light is silvery-white, and takes a form like the faint outline of a flame. Nothing burns.

Raguel's eyes close.

Everything around them seems brighter, more intense, more there in this moment of gleaming stillness.

When she speaks, the Aes Sedai's words are a mere whisper, but no less certain for it.

"Shelter in Light, and remember: hope is not lost, while there yet remains even so much as a breath of opposition to the Shadow."

Raguel can't see their surroundings anymore, but even with his eyes closed he can see the silvery light. It's very familiar, but not because it means destruction. This, it seems to him, is more like the light of the City. Though he never felt quite this enveloped there.

Moiraine's words, as well, wind around and around him like a blanket.

A few moments tick by in silence; it is hard to say exactly how long passes in this strangely-suspended silence.

At length, however, Moiraine gently squeezes Raguel's fingers and releases saidar, letting the golden light around her fade.

He's silent at the end of it, and very still. His eyes open but they aren't focusing on anything visible. He looks momentarily very lost.

"Yes," he says in a low voice. "I saw it. Thank you."

After another moment's silence he pulls his cigarettes out. His hands shake so much he almost can't light the match.

"You are welcome, I think," she murmurs quietly, watching him.

There is concern in the dark eyes, but she does not press him; not now.

He takes a slow breath or two through the cigarette, blows the smoke away, before speaking again. Maybe it helps.

"Moiraine, what would happen if, uh." He looks at the burning end, taps off some ash.

"If you couldn't do that anymore? Couldn't reach that?"

The sudden silence has a weight to it for several long moments before she says,

"It has been known to happen."

A pause.

"It is... very difficult to endure such separation, afterwards."

He nods, watching her with a hollow-eyed pity. Takes another drag.

"Then maybe you understand... I can't. I can't be without that, I'll go crazy, I'll tear myself apart."

He cuts himself off sharply, brings the cigarette back to his lips.

Maybe coming back in here wasn't such a great idea.

"I understand better than you may realize."

Dark eyes are thoughtful as she studies him, almost weighing him.

"But you were able to feel it through me, just now, were you not?"

"A little more than usual, yeah," he says with a tense little laugh.

"Different, I mean, but. Close enough."

He looks at his cigarette hand again.

In a way, the decision to make the offer is very simple.

Whatever the Dark One wishes, the Aes Sedai has opposed -- for essentially as long as she can remember.

"Then you may be assured," Moiraine says quietly, "that as long as I myself am able to do so, I will see to it that you never know that loss."

It's not just loss, of course; it's rejection, and Raguel isn't quite sure that a demon's exposure to what Moiraine can offer wouldn't result in him being consumed from the inside out.

But it is different, he reminds himself. Maybe different enough. And any hope, however small, looks startlingly like a lifeline from where he's standing.

"Thank you," he says, because he can see how seriously she means it. "I'd be very much obliged."