Post-Halloween

[we_bring_hell]

Harrow is working. Very seriously. She is not mooning over her new relationship with Gideon even a little bit; she has too much work to do.

She is, however, wearing a skull with accents of deep, almost black purple, with a starburst or floral pattern just below her temple, that she has never been seen to wear before.

Other than that sentimental embellishment, however, she is entirely focused on Obaeg's Toward a Common Haemographology. She is making copious notes in the margins--courting future simian fury--and thinking that she should have found this for Moiraine before they started working on her weave notation.

Comments

[we_bring_hell]

She smiles. "All right. I would not wish to give offense, but--" She touches the deep violet pattern on her cheek absently. "There were some unforeseen consequences of our trip to the Ninth House."

[blue_ajah]

"There is nothing in this that would," Moiraine assures her.

Cairhienin conventions of privacy (as complicated as they are) notwithstanding.

"It is a lovely pattern, Harrow. Representative of the changed dynamic between the two of you, I may presume?"

[we_bring_hell]

She nods, and her smile softens just a hair. "A deviation from tradition, but it holds a personal significance. And there is no one here to judge."

She hesitates, as she did before asking the question initially, but plunges onward. "I would speak to you of what I heard in my... my vision of the Lady of the Tomb. It is rather personal, but I believe... that is, I would like your perspective, and it touches on matters that are perhaps relevant to yourself as well."

[blue_ajah]

Her gaze sharpens slightly, but she merely says,

"I would very much like to hear what you have to say."

[we_bring_hell]

Inhale. Exhale. She folds her hands together to stop herself from twisting them.

"My perception of reality began to blur from the moment we crossed the threshold of Drearburh Castle," she says. "I did not realize until then just how fraught the Ninth was with memories of my loss... how much of my time I spent there in deepest distress."

"It was in those times that she of the Tomb would come to me, offering comfort. And so it was as we descended to the Tomb that day, and she began to speak to me."

[blue_ajah]

She nods, listening carefully, and waits for Harrow to continue.

[we_bring_hell]

This is so hard. Why did she decide to do this?

"I loved her from the moment I saw her face," she says, voice steady, her own face a frozen mask behind her paint; eyes huge. "A convergence of religious mania and chaste, pre-adolescent limerence that was devastating to the child I was."

"But it was in those long days and nights that came after that my devotion to her was truly cemented. She was--" Her voice doesn't break because she wills it not to, but there's a hitch. "Everything. Not just my beloved. The hole that my parents left--the loneliness that haunts Drearburh Castle to this day--she filled it, as much as anything ever did."

"That day at the Tomb -- what I heard." She swallows. "She demanded I tell her if she was no longer alone in my affections."

[blue_ajah]

"It would be very different," she says, carefully, "and very difficult, would it not, to be yourself changed in a place so painfully familiar."

[we_bring_hell]

"Yes," she says in a low voice. "It was. To see it through Gideon's eyes. And your eyes."

Hard, dark, and haunted, yes. She knew that. But shabby and cruel?

[blue_ajah]

"I have known those who would cling to their childhood," the Aes Sedai says. "Refusing to accept anything new. It takes courage, to face such things, and more so when they are hard."

[we_bring_hell]

She presses her lips together tightly, eyes shining. "I hope I do not fear to do anything simply because it is hard," she says after a moment.

[blue_ajah]

"It does not seem likely to me that you would," she replies. "From what I know of you, and from how I have seen you face challenges and sorrows in full measure."

[we_bring_hell]

Inhale. Exhale.

"I do not believe she spoke only of Gideon Nav," she says slowly. "She asked me if... she said I never cared before, if she was monster or savior. I believe she referred to the conversations we have had regarding... eschatology."

[blue_ajah]

"I see."

She thinks again of the overwhelming sense of Shadow in the presence of the Tomb and its surrounding ward.

"Was she upset? Or angry?"

[we_bring_hell]

"It was difficult to read," she says carefully. "In part, perhaps, because I did not answer."

"I felt at first that she reproached me. But some of the things she said... it is my hope that she, only pressed me to confess the feelings i-in question," she says, faltering. "To myself, at least." Her teeth worry a pink patch on her lip.

"She said she would not leave me."

[blue_ajah]

"It may be so," she murmurs. "She may have sought to encourage you to know yourself; to understand what lies inside you."

"To be composed does not mean to be devoid of emotion."

[we_bring_hell]

She nods. "That, I suppose, is why I raised this topic. I mean... there were multiple aspects I wished to share. But..."

She presses her thumbs together hard to control the urge to fidget; following the exercise set her as a child to soften and harden one distal phalange and then the other.

"I am conscious," she says wretchedly, "that to be compared to the Reverend Mother cannot be interpreted as anything but an insult." She stalls out for a moment.

[blue_ajah]

"It is understandable," Moiraine tells her, gently, "to have complicated feelings toward her, given everything."

[we_bring_hell]

Her gaze skitters around, ultimately landing somewhere around Moiraine's knee.

"She was a murderer," she whispers. "And she loathed the sight of me."

"I am by no means a judge of parents." Her voice is a little stronger now; not a lot. "But if I could. Choose the, the qualities."

Oh, she's so bad at this.

[blue_ajah]

She is quiet, listening, giving the younger woman both her full attention and the space to find her way through what she is trying to say.

[we_bring_hell]

She looks up, then meets Moiraine's gaze again. "I appreciate all you have done for me--listening, teaching, patience and kindness. I see much in you I would emulate, and so much that I have..." She swallows. "Lived without," she says finally.

"I know our time together has been brief. But I do not wish you to be... unaware. Of what you have come to mean to me."

[blue_ajah]

Surprise flickers in her glance, followed by stunned realization.

"Harrow," Moiraine says, after a moment. "I... do not have -- I have not had children of my own."

The serene tones of her voice are as gentle as before, and warm.

"But I should be proud to have a daughter like you."

[we_bring_hell]

Harrow lets out a huff of breath; it's not quite a laugh, but it's hard to describe what else it could be. A spasm of emotional relief, perhaps.

Her eyes are bright; she brushes at them embarrassedly. "I--"


No. Not able to talk just yet. She tents her fingers over her face and takes long, slow breaths.

[blue_ajah]

There is a slight rustle of silk as Moiraine rises from her seat and moves to the chair beside Harrow, rather than the one across from her.

She puts an arm around her shoulders.

[we_bring_hell]

Harrow lets out a long, sad breath, and allows herself, very deliberately, to sag against Moiraine, careful not to stain the Aes Sedai's silks with any of her paints. At the same time she lowers her hands.

"I am undone," she says simply. This is the point where Gideon said, 'too many words, bitch.' But she has no formula as simple as one flesh, one end for this.

"I will be well in a moment. Thank you. For--" Her throat thickens, as it always does when the stupid, hurting animal of her body wrenches control.

"Thank you," she whispers.