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He was not going to like her. He might be able to tolerate one of the Witches in his company as long as it benefitted the group, but he didn’t have to like it. He just had to keep those kids from trouble for as long as they were travelling with the Aes Sedai. 

The pact he made with the woman was a silent one. He would tag along but not interfere too much. Otherwise, he was more than sure, her man would help him reconsider. A mountain of stone, so suited to the very closed off woman.  

They left as soon as the kids got ready, leaving stealthily. He could understand that – if anyone knew, they would try to stop it. That woman, although clearly tired, seemed very much in control. Her talk with her warder was... strange. They both seemed calm, but Thom wasn’t stupid. Those two were arguing. In the end they seemed to have reached some kind of agreement. Did they make a pact of their own? 

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For a moment Thom looked at the dark water that had changed so much in the very short time. Usually, he would be afraid of the angry foam that took the ferry and destroyed it. He should be angry, furious even about the fact that it was not natural but made by use of the channelling. And it took a man’s life as well. The Aes Sedai had killed a man in cold blood. He could have been the sole provider for his family, maybe some children will go hungry now, a woman in trouble might be forced to do something ugly or dangerous to support herself and the little ones. 

Then there was another side, he knew. There was more to the woman’s actions than spite and lack of consideration for another’s fate. Thom was alive, those creatures got seriously slowed down because of what she did. Ultimately the man died because of them. The trollocks were here because someone in their group was of interest to them. Even if it was Moiraine, they had all decided to follow her. They will all have to flow with this river as it carried them, at least for now. 

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(Thom / Baerlon)

On the way she conducted herself like a queen. A ready made one, to be honest. He needed to sit down in a real chair at the inn to fully connect that she could have been one, if he was not mistaken.

Moiraine was a Damodred. He only needed to hear her real name once and her small height, her kesiera, her very being gave her away. Taringail’s sister. That’s why her face seemed so familiar that first time he saw her.

But apart from Taringail, there was another familiar trait in her face that reminded him of some other face.

He had little time to dwell, as soon as the owner recognized his coat. Singing was what he loved, so it was not a problem for him. It was, to be honest, a welcome distraction and relax after those hard days they had. He sang and sang before playing a rather fun and energetic piece fit for dancing. After some time he spotted Moiraine dancing. A queen finding such visible pleasure in simple country dancing.

She danced like there was no tiredness in her body. He’s seen her maybe an hour before, sitting up by the sheer force of will. Now she... pranced. With every one of the Two Rivers boys. Something stirred in him – he would have liked to be able to dance now as well, but there was no one to take his place, really. For now he enjoyed watching.

“Something slower, maybe?” the owner asked after the third country dance. “To let them rest, I mean.”

 Well, surely... The man had just needed people to eat and drink more, to bring in more money. Thom was, however, not angry. The owner earned, he earned, that was the way life worked. He chose a semi-political ballad that would make him play a little with his voice.

When he came to the section about queen Carewin Damodred, he had to cover for several verses he almost forgot. He did it, although Moiraine looked his way and he knew she knew his blunder. Even as she lifted her eyebrow in question he saw the resemblance. She looked so much like the great queen’s portrait he had seen in one of the books from the great library of Andor. A true queen.

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Moiraine / Baerlon

His voice was amazing – Moiraine knew that much before, from when he sang in the Emond’s Field. Even before that, she could admit. He had been Andor’s Bard when Morgase and Taringail married. Bard and an Advisor. The Grey Fox behind the scenes, if she remembered correctly. A spy.

Grey? He was. Certainly. A fox? Clearly, with how he managed to disguise himself after Morgase drove him out and how he wiggled his way into their party.

The dance had ended a while ago and now the soft tunes of his instrument, accompanied by a story she very well knew wafted through the inn’s main hall. She knew the story thrice over. She knew where the ballad was really on point and where it had taken little or big liberties with what had really happened.

What really happened now, however, was that the voice brought her more comfort than it should really have. Thom’s voice seemed healing. It brought her calm and grounding sensation. She could listen to his performance any day, forever. She was now tired a little from all the dancing, from the happiness it brought. She listened to the slow historical ballad he changed into and she wouldn’t miss any beat, any word. His voice was exquisite – deep and both dark and light at the same time.

She would like to listen to it forever, instead of trekking through the Westlands, trying to determine which of the boys was actually the Dragon Reborn.

That voice made her think of home, which was more than weird. Well, the Wheel wheeled as the Wheel willed. She would be sure to enjoy it while it lasted.

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There was nothing that really either she or Aldieb did wrong. They were already nearing the spot Lan designated as good for the night rest. Her warder was leading them all and somehow she and Thom ended up at the end of the group. Moiraine gladly performed one last weave to check their surroundings and let her hands fall down. Thom looked at her very briefly. After Baerlon she couldn’t help but keep a closer eye on him.

It was no one’s fault she was distracted and Aldieb was tired after a day of hard ride. The hole the mare stepped into was covered by grass and turned out to be too much not to stumble when it caught her leg. Moiraine, on the other hand, was too sluggish to react. It all happened as if in slow motion. Her body lurched to the side, threatening with a hard hit to come. She would not be able to weave to save herself. Not on an evening like this.

Her body, however, never hit the ground. Moiraine found herself held up by Thom’s surprisingly strong hands. His horse had to lean to the right so support both of them heavy on his left.

Lan was by her side in an instant, helping her stand up on the ground.

“Are you alright?” Thom asked.

“I was not harmed, thank you.”

“Can you ride?” Lan asked.

She nodded and Lan helped her up onto Mandarb. He got up behind her, holding Aldieb’s reins and led them to the chosen forest patch.

“Are you alright?” Lan asked when she was in the middle of brushing down her grey mare.

“I’m fine,” the oath allowed her to say. “Tired. Both of us,” she said, patting Aldieb’s back with affection.

“He caught you.”

“Yes.”

“You blushed,” Lan whispered.

“Yes.”

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That evening everyone seemed to unpack with unprecedented speed. They were all tired, weary from the road, from the running, from the constant threat. Thom helped Egwene take care of Bela, but the girl joined Moiraine instead of going to sleep right after taking a bite.

He watched the warning glance Lan gave Moiraine when he handed her a steaming cup. She was just as tired as the rest of them. More, probably, judging by the stiff posture she held and how sparsely she channelled compared to the morning. He did not know exactly, but he managed to pick up when she used the Power.

A song came to him, when he was watching her teach. First in his mind, then he was humming it and smiling.

“You’ve performed that before, haven’t you!” Mat pushed up in his blanket by the fire. “It’s…”

The young man had some trouble recounting the title.

“You should be rather acquainted with this one, boy, as your countrymen like it pretty much. But maybe this version would jog your memory.”

Thom added a rhythm beaten by his boot and the boys’ faces lighted up. He hummed the melody as they sang about Eldrene’s veil being the most beautiful place in Two Rivers.

When Egwene joined in to sing as well, he finally looked at Moiraine. Oh, she’d made a connection alright.

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The rain refused to end. Another day of doing nothing specific was Moiraine had before her and for once she refused to find anything productive to occupy her time. She had been looking at the Karaethon cycle for days now, spending every waking moment away from Rand, trying to map what needed to happen next. Her eyes hurt and her neck hurt. Even her back protested when she tried to read for a while an hour earlier.

Lan went to Nynaeve first thing in the morning and so she was left alone, unable to focus. She needed to rest, but her head refused being still just as much as it refused being properly active.

The patter of raindrops against the window in her room brought an unfamiliar longing. Moiraine’s thoughts went to the servant’s hall, where, as she knew, Thom spent some time every day, playing and singing for any that wanted to listen. She would gladly sneak in there right now if it was possible for her to sneak there at all. She was now too known in the Stone of Tear to even attempt going wherever truly unseen.

Besides, it would be weird to enjoy hearing his performance while they were adversaries in advising Rand. Yes, they just had different visions, but the same or close goal.

And yet the rhythm of drops on the window brought her back to Baerlon and how good she felt hearing him. She didn’t need much more.

And then there was that vision Min had. It was far from vague in the big picture. But was it something to be based on a mutual fondness or would it require a lot of cajoling from her part? Would she need to do something specific?

And when was it to happen? She needed more information to do it right. Min didn’t have too many details for her. She and Thom were now against each other, but both close to the Dragon. Was it possible she had missed some part of the prophecies? She definitely needed more information.

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The library of the Stone of Tear was empty at this time of evening. Even better for Moiraine. She felt less than inclined to pretend to be sociable. She took a small lamp, only to brighten a limited space around her, because she knew the layout of this room like the back of her hand by now. She also knew exactly what she was looking for and where to look for it.

The thing that made her startle the first time she ventured into this section was still unchanged. Someone felt that putting all the accounts of viewings concerning the Dragon Reborn next to an amazing collection of the Heart of Flame novels. More than an unusual companions.

She remembered passing the one weathered book from the White Tower library between other Accepted and some Novices. One that the Brown sisters apparently had lost track of. Her hand touched the worn spine of that one specific title lovingly. So many memories of a time when everything was much simpler.

A voice from the shadow would have made her jump if her training hadn’t kicked in.

“Coming here in the night for some steamy story?” Thom Merrilin came out from behind the bookshelf. “I have to admit that I didn’t see you as the type.”

She should have told him it was not for him to know. She could have just said she had come for what the other shelf contained. Instead she felt a weird pull to goad him.

“Am I not allowed to have some fun?” she asked. “Or do you think the Aes Sedai in general are heartless?”

Thom, from what she could see in the dim light barely touching him, squinted at her.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you heartless?” Thom asked. “I would rather believe you were yourself in Baerlon, lively and capable of feeling, but-“

She didn’t let him finish. The lamp clattered to the small ledge used for books, landing upright by a stroke of luck. She was kissing Thom with all the meagre ability she had.

“Well…” was all she heard him say after she caught the lamp as well as one of the books on the prophecies and almost ran from the library.