un_fallen | (no subject)

(no subject)

Raguel slinks in, head down, an air of determination and untouchability about him that keeps most patrons looking right past him. He's here to wait and to watch, and if the people he's looking for fail to turn up in an hour or so, he'll leave.

It's not the easiest thing, being in here. He tries not to look around much beyond the door.

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"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."

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