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Rand was startled awake by a kick to his shin. Blinking, he rolled over onto his side and realized Mat was caught in a nightmare. Again. He was facing away from Rand, but Rand could see him twitching and feel panic churning in the bond.

And hear Mat mumbling something, too quietly for Rand to tell what language it was in this time. It…varied, night to night.

“Mat,” Rand said, giving him a little shake, then a firmer one.

Mat jerked awake and babbled something in the Old Tongue, his voice cracking with fear, or maybe tears. “Hey, hey, shhh,” Rand soothed him, scooching closer and curling protectively around him. “I’m here, Mat. I’m here, you’re safe. You’re safe.”

Safe from what? Mat never wanted to tell him what his nightmares were about, and Rand never pressed him to.

Mat’s breathing sounded shaky, but he gripped onto Rand’s forearm and started feeling steadier in the bond. Rand pressed gentle kisses to his shoulder, murmuring again that he was here.

Eventually the last of the tension left Mat’s body, and he sagged tiredly back against Rand. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be,” Rand said. He kissed his shoulder again. “Was it Lanfear?”

“No,” Mat said. “Just my own mind.”

Rand didn’t know how he could be so confident of that. But Mat knew full well that Lanfear manipulating his dreams was a possibility and had experienced it before—during his captivity in the White Tower, Lanfear had sent him countless nightmares designed to sow discord in his and Rand’s marriage—so Rand would trust his judgment on the matter.

Besides, Lanfear had been visiting Rand’s dreams frequently since Falme and had given him her word that she would stay out of Mat’s. Not that her word was worth anything, but Rand did believe she wanted to ally with him and that he therefore had the upper hand over her for the time being.

Of course, the reason she wanted to ally with him was to be able to use him as her pawn. But Rand had no intention of letting that happen. It was enough that she wanted his allegiance; he could use that desire to his advantage without ever actually handing over his allegiance.

A dangerous game, but one he had to play. All the other Forsaken were loose now, and if Rand had a chance of keeping Lanfear neutralized as a threat, he had to try.

Rand must have drifted off again soon afterwards, for he found himself back in his inn room in Cairhien. Lanfear was sitting on the bed, in the style she’d preferred of late—simple but elegant coat and trousers, and hair in short curls.

“You said you’d stay out of Mat’s dreams,” Rand said. “And yet, he keeps having nightmares.”

Lanfear shrugged. “I haven’t touched his dreams since before Falme,” she said. “I’m hardly responsible for the nightmares of everyone in the world.”

Rand didn’t have much reason to believe she was telling the truth, but he also didn’t have much reason to believe she was lying. Mat seemed so confident that Lanfear had nothing to do with the recent nightmares, and the way he often woke babbling in the Old Tongue…

After Falme, he’d mentioned to Rand that blowing the Horn of Valere had made him remember things from his past lives. Could that be the root of the strange things that had been happening to him this past month? Was he having nightmares about his past lives, rather than nightmares sent by Lanfear about his current one?

Lanfear leaned back on her hands on the bed. “I did give you that nightmare you had on one of your first nights here. Do you remember? I brought you tea,” she said. “I’d hoped that I could frighten you in your dreams and then be here to provide comfort in the waking world. I am sorry for that.” She laughed. “I misread you terribly, didn’t I? Lews wouldn’t have hesitated to fuck anything that moved, regardless of his wedding vows. But I’ve learned that you’re a much better man than he was. And not even interested in women.”

Rand doubted Lews Therin had been as unfaithful as all that—after all, the reason Lanfear had turned to the Shadow in the first place was because he’d left her for his wife. But lately Lanfear seemed keen on proving to Rand that she saw him as a different man than Lews. Why, Rand couldn’t say.

She’d obviously deemed her initial method of trying to seduce him as more harmful than beneficial, after how panicked he’d been when she’d tried to get him into bed in that mountaintop cabin in Cairhien. So her approach this past month had been to…what, sell herself as a friend and ally and treat her past seduction attempts as an embarrassing yet funny memory for them to laugh over together?

For Rand, there was nothing funny in the memory of being pinned down to the bed in the cabin. But he smiled now anyway, to make her think her efforts were working.

Lanfear maneuvered the conversation around to Tear and Callandor, as she always did. Rand acted resistant but implied he was considering it, as he always did. That was the line he had to toe: amenable enough that she didn’t turn on him, but not so amenable that she suspected he was playing her.

She probably suspected it anyway. He had far less experience in deception than she did. But if she did suspect it, she hadn’t chosen to confront him about it yet.

When Rand woke again, morning sunlight was streaming in through the small round window in their cabin on the ship. He shut his eyes and burrowed further under the blankets, not ready to get up and face the day just yet.

But Mat must have noticed that he was awake, because he reached over to start playing with his hair. The bond was thrumming with affection, though there was something sad underneath. There was always something sad underneath these days, either from guilt over Rand’s wound from Falme or worry over what the future might bring.

Over what the future would bring. The Last Battle was coming, and Rand would die there, unless the madness and saidin’s corruption took him first. Rand would die, and he might well take Mat with him, thanks to the Warder bond between them.

Rand yawned and opened his eyes. Mat was sitting up in bed, and in the bond he felt tired yet wide awake. Had he gotten back to sleep at all after the nightmare? And when Rand had first gone to bed last night, Mat had still been up drinking with Elayne and the Aiel and seemed like he’d had no intention of stopping anytime soon. It had taken Rand an hour or two to drift off, and he was pretty sure the other side of the bed had still been empty when he’d finally managed it.

“You don’t sleep much anymore,” Rand said, tilting his face up towards Mat. “Back home, I could’ve counted on one hand the number of times I’d ever seen you wake up before me.”

Mat shrugged. “It’s impossible to get any sleep on this bloody boat, the way it’s rocking around all the time,” he said. “Your hair’s starting to grow out. Finally.”

“Mmm, you’ve been saying so,” Rand said, then let out an involuntary little noise when Mat tugged on a handful of his hair.

Mat grinned, no doubt at the sudden spark of arousal Rand had just sent across the bond. “Long enough, I see,” he said. “For now.”

He tugged again and Rand moaned, intentionally this time. Also softly; they’d learned their lesson about how thin their cabin walls were. Though not until halfway through the journey, once Rand had finally felt up to something more than cuddling before bed.

The wound from Ishamael—from Ishamael, no matter how much Mat tried to blame himself—still hurt, but Rand was getting used to it. Trying to. At least he no longer felt like he was going to either vomit or pass out every time he moved. And Mat’s flashes of guilt were less frequent, which Rand took to mean that his own flashes of pain were also less frequent.

Sometimes the bond was more of a curse than a blessing. Rand didn’t want Mat to feel every piece of suffering he underwent. He had a feeling that what he’d already endured was only the beginning of what the Pattern had in store for him.

But for the moment, it was easy to forget all that and close his eyes and let Mat kiss him senseless. He felt Mat shift to kneel over him, one hand on the bed to carefully brace his weight and keep himself from putting any pressure on Rand’s wound—Rand missed the days when Mat used to lie down on top of him, missed the familiar weight of his body, missed Mat treating him roughly instead of like glass he was afraid of breaking.

Mat’s other hand moved down to graze the shorter hair on the side of Rand’s head, and Rand let out a shuddering breath. There was something to be said for the intimacy of feeling Mat’s hands directly against his bare head, even if Mat had always complained about his lack of hair. But Rand was looking forward to growing it out the rest of the way, too. Maybe he’d feel more like himself then.

He hadn’t felt like himself since leaving home. Since hearing Tam’s feverish rambling about the baby in the snow. But when he was with Mat, it was easier to pretend nothing had changed. If he kept his eyes closed, he could almost imagine they were in bed in the al’Thors’ house in Emond’s Field, starting a new day of their married lives together.

Mat had just gotten both their shirts off when a knock sounded on the door. Rand turned his head to look, and Mat sighed, sat up, and said, “What?”

The door opened and Elayne poked her head in. “Moiraine—o-oh,” she stammered as she noticed the state they were in. Mat was straddling Rand’s lap, so Rand sat up too and nudged him off to try to make it a little less obvious what they’d been in the middle of, though he could feel himself blushing.

Elayne was blushing too, but she normally had rosy cheeks anyway, so maybe Rand was imagining it. “Sorry,” she said. “Moiraine sent me to get you. She wants to speak with everyone before we reach Tar Valon.”

Mat huffed. “Tell Moiraine she can—”

“We’ll be right there,” Rand cut him off. “Thank you.”

Elayne darted out again and shut the door, and Rand hauled himself out of bed to get dressed and pack up the scant few things he’d brought from Falme. A few changes of clothes, books of prophecies, his red marriage ribbon, and the hilt of Tam’s sword. Looking at that ruined remnant of it always made Rand’s heart ache, but he couldn’t bear to part with it.

Grumbling, Mat followed suit, and they left their cabin and went up onto the deck of the ship, where Moiraine proceeded to lecture the whole party about keeping close to her and not speaking to anyone once they docked. She was going to be taking them to an inn for the time being, and Nynaeve and Ryma Sedai would be going alone to the White Tower to deliver the news to the Amyrlin about the Black Ajah, since Moiraine had been exiled.

Though Rand suspected it wasn’t only her exile and the Black Ajah causing her tense mood about returning to Tar Valon. He’d witnessed her argument with the Amyrlin near the Waygate in Cairhien. It had sounded…personal. Had they been lovers? He would never dare ask Moiraine.

Would he be able to make the same choice she had? If a day came when he had to choose between his duty to the world and his love for Mat, would he be strong enough to choose his duty?

Moiraine came up to him after finishing her lecture. “Any visitors in your dreams last night?” she asked him in a low voice as everyone else broke out into conversation.

Moiraine knew Rand was trying to work with Lanfear; it had even been mostly her idea, back in Cairhien. The two of them and Mat were the only ones who knew (and maybe Lan). Rand had a feeling the rest of his friends would not approve of him willingly working with a Forsaken, but he agreed with Moiraine that it was better to keep Lanfear close if he could. That was just about the only thing he and Moiraine did agree on.

“Yes,” Rand said. “Same as usual. Just her telling me to go to Tear.”

Moiraine nodded. “We’ll set sail by the end of the week,” she said. “There are a few things I need to do first.”

She walked off before Rand could say that he didn’t want to go to Tear. He sighed, and Mat slipped his hand into his and squeezed it. “We’ll have a few days to come up with a different plan, then,” Mat said, and Rand nodded.

Moiraine and Lanfear both wanted him to go to Tear and take Callandor, but he was tired of being a puppet on their strings. They’d forced him to fulfill one prophecy at Falme; the next one would be on his terms.

But the trouble was, he had no idea where to go and what to do in the meantime. And he couldn’t afford to stay idle for long. The Shadow was probably five steps ahead of him already.

Rand was relieved when they disembarked and reached dry land, though not as relieved as the Aiel. The first night on the boat, Rand had been restless and unable to sleep and had heard someone up on the deck being violently seasick, so he’d gone up to see if he could help, but it had turned out to be Aviendha, who’d been furious at him for daring to ask if she needed anything. Granted, maybe that had been a stupid question to ask a seasick person, but what else should he have done, just leave her to suffer? That was what he’d ended up doing after she’d made it clear that his company wasn’t welcome.

She’d taken against him straightaway at Falme, all because he’d snapped at her that he didn’t care about being the Car’a’carn. And all right, maybe he shouldn’t have said that, but she’d barged into his room shortly after the battle while he’d been trying to comfort Mat over accidentally stabbing him, so if he’d been a little short with her and her friends, it had been their own fault.

She did still seem to think he was the Car’a’carn, though, seeing as she and Bain and Chiad were following him so closely during the walk to the inn that he could practically feel them breathing down his neck. Rand ground his teeth but said nothing, not wanting to cause a scene out on the streets and earn Moiraine’s ire.

Thankfully, the Maidens backed off once they were safely inside the inn. Nynaeve and Ryma headed out, and nobody else knew what to do with themselves, so they wandered up to the terrace to sit around and keep watch for Nynaeve’s return, assuming the Amyrlin would let her leave again after delivering the message. Rand considered taking Mat to the room they’d been given to finish what they’d started this morning, but he wasn’t in the mood now that he was so worried about Nynaeve, and he could sense Mat wasn’t either, as much as he was trying to crack jokes and keep the group’s spirits high.

And Light, Nynaeve had a great deal to report when she finally returned. They’d all been alarmed after seeing smoke coming out of the Tower, but Moiraine had insisted—very firmly—that everybody stay put while she and Lan went to get a lay of the situation out in the city. And hearing the full tale from Nynaeve, it was even worse than what they’d imagined.

A battle, sister against sister in the Hall of the Tower—absolutely unprecedented, according to Moiraine. The Black Ajah had not been limited to Liandrin or even to the Reds, as they’d hoped. Sisters of all seven Ajahs had revealed themselves as Darkfriends and come to Liandrin’s aid. The intricacies of Tower politics were beyond Rand, but he could tell this piece of news shook Moiraine. He did know that Reds and Blues hated each other, so perhaps the concept of the Black Ajah had been easier to swallow when she’d been able to tell herself that it was only her enemy Ajah who was the problem.

Mat felt shaken too. So did Rand, when he heard Nynaeve describe the violence Liandrin was capable of and thought about the fact that Mat had been her captive for months. Thank the Light she’d had orders from Ishamael not to harm him.

Moiraine reiterated that they needed to keep a low profile and went back out into the city with Lan. Naturally, Mat immediately hopped to his feet and declared that he was going to get a drink. Rand thought he should dissuade him, but…well, he too was craving a chance to feel normal again. Just for one afternoon.

So he and Perrin accompanied Mat to a nearby tavern. Not without the three Aiel following close behind Rand again.

Exasperated, Rand stopped in the road and turned around to face them. “Enough,” he said. “Please. Stay here.”

All three women looked unimpressed. “Our place is protecting you, Rand al’Thor,” Chiad said.

“It is our duty to see he who could be Car’a’carn safely to the Three-fold Land,” added Bain.

Could Rand use their belief that he was the Car’a’carn to his advantage? Surely it had to come with some perks. “Then, as your Car’a’carn, I command you to stay here,” he tried. He felt amusement flickering in Mat’s bond somewhere behind him.

The little laugh Aviendha let out was much less amused. “You have not earned that title,” she said. Damn. “Or the right to lead us. You have not faced the Trial of Rhuidean.”

“See, I don’t know what the Trial of Rhuidean is,” Rand said, stepping closer to her. “Because you won’t talk to me. And it’s been a month now. All you do is stare and roll your eyes. So, tell me.”

What was Mat—Light, was that a hint of arousal mixed in with his amusement? Sometimes Mat got turned on by the most random things Rand did or said, as Rand had been learning thanks to the bond.

“I have been measuring the kind of man you are,” Aviendha replied, and Rand felt—suddenly desperate to know what kind of man she thought he was. “Hundreds of thousands of our people have been waiting for the Car’a’carn’s arrival. To think it might be you.”

She said it so scathingly that it left no doubt as to what opinion she’d formed of Rand. Oh. Well, Rand hadn’t really thought he’d managed to impress her over the past month, not with the way she’d been treating him. Still, the look on her face stung…and yet, Rand couldn’t look away. Her eyes were pulling him in.

“Whatever your blood, your face, your hair,” Aviendha continued, “you have no feeling for us. You are a wetlander, through and through.”

Wetlander. She spit the word out like a curse and turned on her heel to stalk off down the street. Bain and Chiad exchanged a look and a hand gestured, but followed.

At least Rand had succeeded in getting them to go away. That was something. Even if he kept watching Aviendha’s retreating back, frustrated and disappointed and—and too many things all at once.

“All right, stop looking like a kicked puppy,” Mat said, tugging on his elbow and forcing him to turn away from Aviendha. “Let’s get some drinks in you, Car’a’carn.”

They went down another street and found a lively tavern, which Mat decided was the perfect place to while away the afternoon. Rand and Perrin settled in with their drinks, and rolled their eyes over Mat boasting about blowing the Horn of Valere to anyone who would listen. Fortunately, most people laughed and seemed to think he was making it all up and showing them a fake replica of the Horn.

And just as fortunately, Mat didn’t reveal that he himself was a Hero of the Horn, only the Hornblower. The former piece of information, Rand didn’t think Mat had shared with anyone besides Rand himself.

Rand took a sip of his drink and studied Mat as he posed for a portrait. Something was bothering Mat. Rand was almost certain of it, and would have been even without the bond telling him that there was a tight knot of unease buried underneath his present good cheer, and had been for weeks now. Something was bothering Mat, so he was acting the fool to distract himself from it. But what was it? His nightmares? His uncontrollable slips into the Old Tongue?

Whatever it was, why hadn’t he talked to Rand about it? And when Rand tried to talk to him about it, he always shrugged it off and changed the subject.

Once Mat’s portrait was done, he came over to their table to show it to them and join them in drinking. Conversation soon turned to Rand’s altercation with Aviendha outside.

“I’ve never seen anyone hate you like that,” said Mat, who still seemed to think the whole thing was funny. “Or you hate anyone like that. You become such a cunt whenever she’s around.”

“I do not!” Rand said indignantly, but Perrin was snickering, the traitor.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s hot.” Mat grinned. “To me, anyway. Not to Aviendha.”

“I should say not,” Rand muttered, stomach wriggling in alarm at the mere idea of that. “Perrin’s more her type. Or Elayne.”

“Elayne’s everyone’s type,” Mat said. “Bloody princess. I’m not sure she has a single flaw.”

“It’s not like that between me and Aviendha,” Perrin was saying at the same time. “We’re friends. But I don’t think I’ll ever…”

He trailed off. “Ever what?” Rand prodded.

“Ever be with anyone again, like that,” Perrin said, looking down at his drink. “I just…I don’t think I can.”

Rand nodded, aching with sympathy. He could feel that Mat was too. Light, just the thought of outliving Mat…Rand couldn’t blame Perrin for having no interest in moving on with someone else.

“If you’re happier on your own, then great,” Mat said. “But if you did ever find yourself wanting company again or falling for someone new…I think Laila would want you to let yourself.”

“I know I would,” Rand said quietly, and Mat glanced at him and quickly looked away again, a sharper pain shooting through the bond.

But Rand didn’t regret saying it. He needed Mat to know that he had Rand’s blessing to find happiness with someone else after—after the Last Battle, if he could.

Perrin cleared his throat. “Well,” he said in a lighter tone. “Between me being…like this, and you two married and boring, we have nothing to gossip about anymore.”

Mat laughed. “Burn me, I never thought I’d be married and boring, or at least not at such a young age,” he said, and Rand smiled too. The adults in the village had all been very impressed that Rand had managed to tie Mat down. Only because none of them knew Mat well enough to realize that he’d always wanted to be tied down, to belong somewhere, and had only pretended otherwise because he’d figured nobody would ever want him to belong with them.

“Nynaeve and Lan seem pretty settled, nothing new with them lately,” Perrin was saying. “So that leaves us with only Elayne and Aviendha to watch. Think there’s something there?”

“I think Rand’s the one Elayne has a crush on,” Mat said.

Rand choked on his drink. “Me?!” he spluttered, and Perrin laughed. “You’re mental!”

“Why not?” Mat said. “You talk all the time—”

“We’re friends, and she’s been teaching me about politics.”

“—and she always smiles when she sees you—”

“Because she’s a nice person. Unlike Aviendha.”

“—and you’re handsome, strong, kind—”

“Now you’re just saying reasons you like me,” Rand said. “Aviendha’s the one she likes, I’m sure of it. Not me.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you are. You remember what Nynaeve said in Falme. Elayne wouldn’t stop talking about you after she met you at the Tower, and she said you were cute.”

“Nobody ever told me about this,” Perrin said, looking intrigued. “Elayne thinks Mat is cute?”

“Nynaeve’s exact words,” Rand confirmed.

“It was nothing,” Mat said, though his cheeks looked pink and he felt flustered in the bond. “I met Elayne for five minutes at the Tower, before Falme, and maybe she was momentarily dazzled by me purely because I was the first man she’d ever met who wasn’t a servant or a relative or a boot-licking noble, but it was nothing. I’m sure Nynaeve was just exaggerating to annoy her. Besides, Elayne hasn’t shown a lick of interest in me since then—it’s definitely either Rand or Aviendha she’s got a crush on.”

“You sure about that?” Perrin said. “Because now that I’m thinking about it…Elayne does challenge you to dice almost every night, and drinks you under the table almost every night—”

“We’re mates, same as you and Aviendha,” Mat said. “That’s all.”

And…Rand realized thanks to the bond that Mat was genuinely uncomfortable about this topic of conversation, so he swiftly stepped in to change it. After Lanfear, Rand knew firsthand how uncomfortable it could be to be the object of an unreciprocated crush. Although even if Elayne did have a crush on Mat—Rand had mostly just been teasing—she would never act on it, seeing as she respected the fact that Mat and Rand were married. Something Lanfear decidedly did not respect, even if she was pretending to now.

But the idea that Rand was only interested in men had seemed to soothe her. Like she could write off his lack of interest in her as purely due to the way his soul had been spun out in this turning, and no flaw on her part. Or maybe she was biding her time for now, but felt confident she’d eventually manage to change his mind about liking women and her in particular. Rand let her think it; she was easier to deal with when she wasn’t simmering with jealousy.

They kept drinking for a couple hours. Mat was putting drinks away even more quickly than usual, so it was with concern that Rand grabbed his arm when he started to get up for yet another refill and said, “I think you’ve had enough for today.”

Mat raised a challenging eyebrow at him, but did sit back down. Perrin excused himself to return to the others back at the inn; he had a sixth sense for when a husband conversation was imminent.

“What’s going on with you?” Rand asked, quietly, underneath the general hubbub of the tavern. “You’ve been drinking constantly since Falme. Usually, you’re careful about it.”

Because of his mum, not that Mat had ever said so outright. He loved to drink and had a reputation for it, but despite that, Rand knew he always moderated himself, never let himself cross too far over the line, because of how afraid he was of becoming like her.

Mat frowned, but in the bond he felt more anxious than angry. “I was locked up in a cell for months, and Light knows what shit the Pattern’s going to throw our way next,” he said. “Forgive me for wanting to enjoy myself while I have the chance.”

“That’s fine, I want you to enjoy yourself too,” Rand said, stroking his thumb soothingly across the back of Mat’s hand. “Just…I’m worried about you. Something’s been bothering you.”

“I’m fine,” Mat said. “But I won’t drink another sip of anything but water today. Promise.”

He seemed serious about that, at least, so Rand nodded and dropped the subject, even if he hadn’t succeeded at his greater goal of getting Mat to just talk to him. But Rand had made it clear all month that he was ready to listen, so he didn’t know what else he could do at this point besides wait for Mat to open up about whatever was on his mind.

They returned to the inn too, and Mat went off to find their other friends while Rand decided to spend a little while continuing his research into the prophecies. Trying to figure out where to go next.

He couldn’t even take Tear now anyway, because the prophecies mentioned that he would have “the people of the Dragon” at his back when he did so, and he didn’t think he had them yet. Whoever they were. Unless he did? Could “the people of the Dragon” simply be his friends?

He spent an hour talking it over with Loial, going around and around in circles. Prophecies were vague and full of double-meanings at the best of times, and these ones were so ancient and had been translated so many times. Who knew how accurate they were to the originals or how much stock Rand should be putting in the exact wording of the particular translations he had?

If only he had original versions of them. Maybe Mat would be able to read them, given his strange new knowledge of the Old Tongue.

“It says here that under Tairen law, whoever takes the Stone of Tear becomes the rightful ruler of the country,” Rand said, pointing at a passage in the book he’d been reading. “So that means—”

“It will be the first nation you conquer, but not the last,” said a new voice.

Rand looked up and saw Elayne standing in the doorway to the street outside, silhouetted by the afternoon sun. It turned her hair almost golden. “Apologies, Builder,” she said to Loial. “May I have a word with Rand?”

Loial agreed and got up from the table, giving Rand’s shoulder an encouraging clasp as he went. Elayne sat down in the empty chair beside Rand, and she began telling him about a letter she’d sent to a Tairen noblewoman to start fostering support for him within the city.

“Why would she support the Dragon conquering her city and taking its most powerful weapon?” Rand asked, baffled.

Elayne gave a graceful shrug. “Well, a peaceful transfer of power is always preferable to destruction.”

“Either way, they lose,” Rand said. Light, he didn’t have a head for politics. Things that should be simple were complicated, and things that should be complicated were simple.

“Rand, having power means accepting that any decision which helps some will hurt others. That's the truth of ruling nations,” Elayne said, but with the utmost patience. Far different from the way Moiraine, or Aviendha, tried to advise him. It felt like Elayne was the only one who understood that he was just a man, rather than a ready-made Dragon Reborn or Car’a’carn. “That, and knowing who to trust.”

Rand chuckled. “Yeah. You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not,” Elayne said, with a wry smile of her own. “But you can start by not making an enemy of Aviendha.”

Rand sighed. Was Elayne going to get on his case about this too now? “She’s made it very clear she wishes anyone but me was the Car’a’carn,” he said. What else could he do? Aviendha accused him of having no feeling for the Aiel—how could he when she wouldn’t tell him anything about them?

“And yet, she’s still here,” Elayne pointed out.

That gave Rand pause. Aviendha…she could have left. If she truly didn’t believe he could be the Car’a’carn, she could have left him and gone her own way. But she hadn’t. A month now she’d stuck by his side. Rolling her eyes and snarking at him whenever she deigned to break her huffy silence, but she had stuck by his side.

“You need a loyal army,” Elayne continued. “Who better than the Aiel? Make them believe in you and they will follow you to the ends of the earth. Including Tear.”

Including Tear. So, what, Elayne was suggesting that he get the Aiel on his side before going to Tear? That was…not a bad idea. It was a great idea. One Rand wasn’t sure he ever would have thought of himself. How was Elayne so good at this? Politics came as easily to her as breathing.

“You sure I can’t convince you to come with us tomorrow?” he asked. Loial had mentioned earlier that Elayne would be going back to the Tower in the morning to continue her studies.

And Rand had felt unaccountably glum ever since hearing it. He would miss her company. What if he never saw her again after they parted ways tomorrow?

“And miss out on scrubbing pots and mopping floors?” Elayne said, and they both laughed. She rested her hand on Rand’s forearm, and his heart skipped a beat. “Andor will always be a friend to the Dragon Reborn. And so will I.”

She smiled, cheek dimpling, and Rand couldn’t help but smile back. The suffocating list of duties piled on his shoulders always felt easier to bear after talking with Elayne.

“Thought I’d find you in here, wasting the day away studying,” came Mat’s voice from the doorway.

The bond had told Rand he was approaching, so he wasn’t surprised, but Elayne jumped and yanked her hand away from Rand’s arm as if it had been burned. “Well, I won’t disturb you any longer,” she said. “But…think about what I said.”

“I will,” Rand said. “Thank you.”

Mat exchanged a smile with her as she passed him, and then he came over to sit in the chair she’d just vacated. “Told you she’s got a crush on you,” he said. “Why else would she get so jumpy about me walking in on her touching your arm?”

“Maybe because she thinks you have a bizarre conviction that she has a crush on me and doesn’t want to feed your delusions any further,” Rand said dryly, though he could feel his cheeks heating up. The way she’d touched his arm and let her hand linger there, the way she’d smiled at him…

No, she was just a friendly sort of person who was free with casual touches for her friends. She didn’t have a crush on him. That was a ridiculous idea. And Rand wouldn’t want her to have a crush on him anyway.

“You do think she’s pretty, though,” Mat remarked. “I can feel it.”

He’d said something similar in Falme, shortly after Rand had first met Elayne. What exactly did he mean, that he could feel that Rand thought she was pretty? Rand didn’t even think she was pretty! Well, no, of course he did, because it was the objective truth. But he didn’t care that she was pretty. He didn’t even like women like that. As far as he knew?

Mat did like women like that, and sometimes Rand felt a strange fluttering in the bond when Mat was around Elayne. Did Rand have a similar fluttering, and that was what Mat was talking about? But Rand didn’t think Mat’s fluttering was out of an interest in her or anything like that. Most likely just nerves over worrying that she liked him in a way he didn’t want her to.

“Why do you keep needling me about Elayne?” Rand asked. “Are you jealous? I promise, the only person I have a crush on is you.”

Mat laughed. “You have a crush on me? That’s embarrassing for you,” he said fondly. “No, I’m not jealous. Just getting payback for you needling me about her earlier.”

Rand chuckled too and admitted that was only fair. Then he summarized his conversation with Elayne, and Mat nodded along thoughtfully.

“So…what if I go to the Aiel Waste?” Rand said. “I don’t want to go to Tear just yet. I know that. But I’d had no idea where else I should go first, until now. Maybe I should start by proving myself as the Car’a’carn, like Aviendha and the others have been badgering me to. I need to start gathering supporters, and armies. The Aiel might be a good first place to look for them.”

Mat mulled it over, drumming his fingers on the table. “That could be a good move,” he said slowly. “If you think you’ll need the Aiel on your side eventually, which you probably will given this Car’a’carn prophecy, then you might as well do it now while we’ve got some of them traveling with us. They might be able to help you. And then, since you’re technically Aiel by birth” —Rand hid a wince, but Mat was only stating a true fact— “what if that means they’re ‘your people’? The Dragon’s people? What if they’re the ones who will be with you when you take the Stone of Tear?”

Rand’s eyes widened. “Light,” he said. “You’re a genius.”

“I know,” Mat said with a grin.

They talked over the idea for a while longer, and by the end of that conversation, Rand was pretty confident it was the right course of action. But he wasn’t going to share it with anyone else just yet, and Mat promised not to either.

Everyone ate dinner together in the inn’s common room. Then Moiraine retired for the night, Nynaeve and Lan went upstairs together, Bain and Chiad left to patrol the neighborhood, and the others stayed in the common room for a round of drinks.

But true to his word, Mat only asked for a glass of water. So did Rand, out of solidarity (and because he’d learned the hard way on the ship that whatever liquor Elayne brewed with the One Power was too strong for him; Aviendha had had a companion in seasickness on that particular night).

“Not even one drink? Either of you?” Elayne said in dismay. “What, are you both pregnant?”

Rand laughed along with everyone else, but he felt a pang as he remembered the vision Ishamael had tempted him with at the Eye of the World. Himself and Mat living peacefully on the al’Thors’ farm with their little daughter. Joiya, her name had been. Rand had no idea how they’d acquired a baby, but that detail hadn’t mattered within the dream.

He forced the image out of his mind. He was the Dragon Reborn, and the Last Battle was coming. There were a hundred reasons against him and Mat having a child; physical incapability was the least of them. Still, his flash of melancholy had apparently been strong enough to earn him a concerned look and a soothing shoulder-bump from Mat.

Despite not drinking, Mat was clearly looking for other types of distractions. He made them play a dozen rounds of Snakes and Foxes, and after everybody refused to keep playing, he started asking around for ideas of other games.

It was then that Bain and Chiad returned to the inn. “There is an Aiel game we could teach you, Mat al’Thor,” Chiad said. “It is called Maiden’s Kiss.”

Mat grinned. “I’m flattered, ladies, but I’m a married man,” he said, resting his elbows back against the bar. “I won’t be playing kissing games with anybody but Rand.”

But…Rand had felt a spark of curiosity from Mat when Chiad had said the name of the game. And Rand himself felt curious about it, too. Maiden’s Kiss?

“Ah, I had forgotten that wetlander marriages are so restrictive,” Chiad said, wrinkling her nose. “Does it not bore you, to only ever be intimate with the same person all your life?”

“What’s the game about?” Rand asked as Mat opened his mouth to argue back.

As one, Bain and Chiad hefted their spears and pointed them at Mat’s neck. He let out a little yelp, and Rand’s moment of alarm vanished as quickly as it had come when he realized that neither woman had veiled herself. This was all part of the game, they didn’t mean Mat any harm. And Mat didn’t feel worried either, just surprised.

“Each Maiden takes turns giving the player a kiss,” Bain said. “If it is satisfactory, the spears move back. If it is not…”

“Sounds like quite a game,” Mat said. “But like I said, I’m not eligible for it, so—”

“You can play if you want, Mat,” Rand said without thinking twice. Mat turned to look at him with obvious surprise. So did all the other wetlanders, for that matter. (Bain and Chiad, meanwhile, looked approving of Rand’s open-mindedness, and Aviendha appeared as uninterested as ever in anything he had to say.)

Rand shrugged self-consciously. “It’s just a game,” he said. “I don’t care if you kiss other people for a game.”

“You sure?” Mat said.

“Yes.”

And that was true. Rand could feel that Mat did want to play despite his protests—he always loved a challenge, and he was very proud of his kissing skills (rightfully so)—and no part of Rand objected to the prospect. If anything, it sounded like a fun game to watch.

Mat held his gaze for a moment longer, then seemed to accept that he was serious and turned back to the Maidens. “All right, then,” he said. “Do your worst.”

Chiad leaned in to kiss him first, but only for a moment before drawing back and inching her spear even closer to his neck. It nicked the skin and Rand could see a drop of blood welling up, but Mat just laughed, not seeming to mind. On the contrary, the bond was telling Rand that Mat liked it.

Huh. Maybe a new game to try out in bed? No, Rand didn’t trust himself to playact at hurting Mat. With the madness lying in wait for him…better not to risk anything like that.

So then, it was good that Mat was getting to play this game with other people who were capable of doing it. Getting to indulge in something he apparently enjoyed that Rand couldn’t do with him.

“That wasn’t fair,” Mat told Chiad. “You only gave me half a second!”

“And half a second would be enough for somebody who was skilled at kissing,” Chiad replied. “I pity Rand al’Thor, being limited to you as the only person he can ever kiss.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Bain said. “Mat al’Thor must have some skill. We all heard them every night on the boat.”

Rand flushed bright red and grinned sheepishly, and everyone else laughed. Even Aviendha allowed herself a smirk—Rand had never seen her smile at anything remotely to do with him before, but maybe she just liked seeing him get publicly made fun of.

Bain kissed Mat next, a longer kiss this time. Then she pulled back, and so did her spear. “Some skill,” she confirmed. “Though not the best I have experienced.”

“Of course not,” Aviendha said. “Not when you have experienced Chiad.”

That caused another round of laughter, but Rand took a quick drink to mask his surprise. Bain and Chiad were joined at the hip and Perrin had always suspected they might be lovers, but had Aviendha just confirmed it? So then, they were both kissing Mat right in front of each other and that was all fine for their own relationship? Aiel did seem to view relationships and marriage differently than wetlanders did, yes, but still.

Well, Mat was currently kissing other people right in front of Rand, and it was all fine for their own relationship. Maybe Aiel ways weren’t so different from their own after all. It was only a game, anyway—Rand was sure most other wetlanders would also be fine with their spouse kissing other people as part of a game.

The game continued, and Rand sat back in his chair and sipped his water and enjoyed the show. Mat was the best kisser in the world, even if Bain and Chiad tried to pretend otherwise on some turns to have an excuse to move their spears closer again, and Rand was finding now that it was a treat to watch him kiss as an outside observer. He looked very pretty doing it.

Rand felt eyes on him and glanced over to see Elayne and Aviendha both watching him watch Mat, over where they were standing side by side. But they both swiftly looked away in different directions as soon as Rand met their eyes. Rand felt oddly flustered, but a few other people also kept looking over at him, Elayne and Aviendha weren’t the only ones—it was probably only that they’d been checking to make sure he wasn’t getting jealous because of the game.

Rand turned his attention back to Mat. Rand had never done anything with anyone but him (well, aside from the handful of kisses Lanfear had forced upon him in Cairhien before Moiraine had rescued him). Mat had been involved with Danya for a few months back home before he and Rand had gotten together, and Rand had often wondered about it. He’d never actually seen them kiss, since they’d limited themselves to only flirting or lingering touches in front of their friends.

What had they been like together? Had Mat looked as pretty kissing her as he did kissing Bain and Chiad? He must’ve gotten a lot of practice at it with her, seeing as he’d already been a wonderful kisser when he’d gotten together with Rand, whereas Rand had been embarrassingly inexperienced (though Mat had called him a shit kisser with so much affection that Rand had laughed and felt less embarrassed after the insult).

And Rand knew Mat and Danya had done more than kissing, too. What had that been like? How—well, Rand knew how sex worked between a man and a woman, he wasn’t an idiot, but it wasn’t something he had personal experience with, so it was only natural to be curious. No doubt Perrin occasionally felt curious about sex with another man, or Nynaeve about sex with another woman.

Rand could feel Mat’s bond bubbling with amusement and playfulness and…and arousal too, starting to simmer under the surface. Rand thought that maybe should have made him jealous, but it only heightened his own enjoyment of the game. After all, it was impossible to do this much kissing without getting a little turned on, so that was only natural—hardly a sign that Mat actually wanted to sleep with Bain or Chiad.

Especially not when he kept turning to look at Rand between kisses, breathless and grinning. Kept turning to look at him as if to make sure he was still watching. As if he liked having Rand watch him. Rand suspected that a good chunk of that growing arousal wasn’t just from being kissed, but rather from knowing Rand was watching him be kissed. And in return, that thought made Rand’s stomach squirm.

He didn’t realize how avidly he was watching until Perrin asked in a low voice for only Rand to hear, “This really doesn’t bother you?”

Rand started and turned to look at him. Perrin didn’t seem judgmental, only curious (and a bit confused), but Rand felt suddenly embarrassed nonetheless. He tried to straighten his face. “Should it?” he said. “It’s just a game. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Perrin nodded to concede the point, though he still seemed puzzled. And now Rand couldn’t shake his embarrassment, which Mat probably sensed, as he leaned back from Chiad’s next kiss and said, “All right, that’s enough of that game, I think. I’ll be finishing up playing it with Rand, and the rest of you aren’t invited.”

More laughter, and Rand rolled his eyes, blushing. Bain and Chiad lowered their spears and said Mat had done an adequate job, and Mat scoffed at them for underrating his skills as he headed over to tug Rand up from his chair. They wished everyone goodnight and went upstairs to their room.

“You okay?” Mat said once they reached their corridor. “It was a stupid game, I shouldn’t have agreed to—”

“No, it’s not that,” Rand hastened to assure him. He dug the key out of his pocket and unlocked their door, then followed Mat inside. “I liked the game. It was just, Perrin seemed to think it was strange that I liked it, and then I felt—I don’t know, like I shouldn’t have liked it.”

“Oh,” Mat said, relief in the bond. “Well, if you liked it, and I liked it, then that’s what matters. Who cares what Perrin thinks?”

Rand nodded, feeling better now at the reassurance that Mat didn’t think he was some kind of freak. He shut the door and locked it and set the key down on a little table, and he’d barely turned around again when Mat was backing him up against the wall.

Mat gave him a fierce kiss, and Rand sighed and rested his hands on Mat’s waist, feeling his earlier arousal returning in full force. “So, you like to watch, hmm?” Mat said into his mouth. “You liked watching me kiss them?”

“Yeah,” Rand admitted, rather breathlessly, as Mat pressed kisses along his jaw.

“I thought so. I could feel how much you were enjoying it,” Mat said smugly. “I was about to take us out of there anyway, seeing as it felt like it wasn’t going to be long before everybody else could see how much you liked it.”

Rand flushed, stomach giving a little wriggle, and Mat laughed—probably because he felt that wriggle just as clearly as he’d felt all the earlier ones. Then his mouth moved down. His neck was dotted with a dozen cuts from the spears, but he treated Rand’s more gently, nipping at the skin with only a hint of teeth.

“How would you have liked to watch even more?” Mat asked, hands roaming down to play with the buckle on Rand’s belt. “If they’d undressed me, would you have liked watching that?”

A little whimper escaped Rand at the mental image. “Yeah,” he said, and he knew Mat could feel in the bond that he was telling the truth.

It was…a very new game, but they both thoroughly enjoyed it. Perhaps too much so—Rand started to feel embarrassed again after it was over and they were lying curled up in bed, catching their breath. Why had he gotten off on a scenario of his husband having sex with other people in front of him? That wasn’t normal. Maybe he was a freak.

There was a little embarrassment brewing on Mat’s end of the bond too. “Well,” Mat said after a minute, breaking the silence. “That was a new one for us.”

Rand let out a huff of laughter. “Yeah,” he said. “But it’s not like—that is, it was just a game. We wouldn’t actually want to do that, in real life.”

“’Course not,” Mat agreed breezily. “Nothing wrong with a wild fantasy here and there, but you’re the only one for me, al’Thor.”

He kissed Rand’s cheek, making Rand smile. Even if he half-felt that he didn’t deserve all the love glowing in the bond. He was doomed, and taking Mat with him. Mat deserved a chance at a full life of happiness with somebody.

But for some reason, Mat had instead chosen a short and painful life with Rand. And Rand didn’t have the heart to try and push him away from that choice. He was too selfish.

Mat got out of bed. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” he said. “I need to change your bandages first.”

Rand obligingly pushed himself to sit up and waited patiently as Mat returned with a fresh roll of bandages and the jar of pain-relieving ointment Nynaeve had mixed up back in Falme, then knelt on the floor next to the bed and unwrapped the old bandages from around Rand’s torso. He was so gentle about pulling them off in the places they’d stuck to the wound, but it still hurt, and Rand did his best to feed the pain into the Void so Mat wouldn’t feel bad, though Mat always felt bad anyway.

Mat carefully rubbed some ointment into the wound, then put on the new bandages and sat up on his knees. Rand cradled Mat’s chin in his fingers and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” he said, hoping Mat knew how much he meant it.

“Least I can do,” Mat said with a flicker of guilt in the bond, and he gave Rand another quick kiss before tidying up the old bandages and rejoining him in bed.

Rand settled down to lie on his back and Mat pulled the blankets over both of them, then nestled into Rand’s uninjured side. Rand didn’t sleep easily anymore, but after an hour or two he finally managed to drift off.

He was woken later by Mat shouting his name.

Rand blinked, disoriented. The bond was going off like a firecracker, panic and fear and a sense of…suffocating? Rand turned his head and saw that Mat was next to him on the bed, being choked by a figure who—

Who had Rand’s face?

Rand snapped out of his shock and tackled not-him off of Mat and onto the floor. Not-Rand put up a vicious fight, and Rand’s mind was whirling as he struggled to avoid not-Rand’s blows and keep him subdued.

What was happening? Was Lanfear behind this? Had she grown impatient and decided to change tactics? Or had one of the other Forsaken found them?

“Rand!”

Rand shoved not-Rand away and scrambled to his feet, and saw that there was a second version of himself in the room now. Mat threw a knife at the first not-Rand, who was also getting to his feet—thankfully, the bond would let Mat tell easily which one was the real Rand, even though they all looked absolutely identical right down to their clothes—but it seemed to go through him without doing any damage.

Rand seized the Source, but he had no idea what sort of weave he should attempt. If a knife didn’t work against them, what would?

Now there was a third not-Rand, standing over by the mirror. Blood and ashes, what if they never stopped coming? Rand hurled a fireball at one of them, like he’d done to the Fade on the mountaintop in Cairhien, but that only slowed him for a moment.

He heard a loud crashing sound and turned to see the mirror shatter. As it did, the third not-Rand vanished. “Rand, the mirrors!” Mat called.

Had the third not-Rand emerged out of the mirror, and Mat had noticed and thrown something at it to break it? Rand closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and let saidin explode out of him, shattering every other mirrored surface in the room. He watched the remaining not-Rands crystallize and shatter likewise, and the pieces of them fade away into nothingness.

Rand was breathing hard, saidin still flowing through every inch of him. The foul corruption was slick and oily and nauseating, but just as strong as that was the bliss and euphoria of the One Power itself. It was the most exhilarating feeling in the world, having the very fabric of the universe at his fingertips, all that power and life filling him up until he thought he might burst.

“Rand.” Mat’s voice barely cut through his haze. “Rand, it’s over now, you can let go.” Mat felt afraid in the bond. Why was he afraid if the danger had passed? “Let go, Rand. Let go!”

Then it hit Rand. Mat was afraid of him.

Rand let go of the Source immediately, feeling hollow and empty as it left him. He let out a shaky breath and blinked a few times to regain his bearings, then turned to look at Mat.

Mat was still sitting on the bed, eyes wide and face white as a sheet. He still felt scared—his fear was only just barely starting to dissipate now.

Rand cleared his throat. He stepped closer to the bed to reach for Mat.

And Mat flinched away from his hand.

Rand let his arm fall to his side, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut.

Mat felt similarly; guilt and regret were rushing into the bond, overpowering the fear. But the fear had been there. The fear had been there first.

Now Mat was reaching for Rand, no doubt trying to make up for it, but Rand turned away from him. “I think I heard somebody else screaming,” Rand said, amazed at how steady his voice came out. “I’m going to check if the others are all right.”

He left the room without waiting for Mat, though he could hear Mat getting off the bed and following him. They soon found out that everybody had been attacked, and Moiraine was in the middle of Healing those who needed it.

Everyone caught each other up on what had happened. The others agreed with Rand’s theory that the Forsaken must have found them, and nobody protested when Moiraine declared they would be leaving at first light.

As the group dispersed, Mat mumbled something about wanting to talk to Nynaeve and tugged her over to the corner of the room. Rand hesitated, but he hadn’t been invited to the conversation, so he turned around and went back to their bedroom, shoulders slumped and heart heavy.

“It isn’t your fault.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw that Elayne had followed him. “What isn’t?” he asked.

“The attacks tonight,” she said. “We were all at Falme. The Forsaken know about all of us. We’re all targets, not just you. It’s not your fault.”

Rand shrugged and stepped into the bedroom, leaving the door open to let Elayne know she was welcome to come in too. She did.

Rand glanced back over at her. To his surprise, he felt himself wanting to confide in her. She always listened patiently and gave good advice, and the thought of admitting to troubles between him and Mat…it felt easier to discuss with Elayne than with Perrin or Egwene or Nynaeve. The three of them had known Rand and Mat too long and would immediately worry and fuss if they caught wind of even the slightest hint of unrest between them.

So Rand spoke. “It’s not that. Well, not only that. But mostly it’s…Mat was afraid of me,” he said. “I channeled during the attack, and I couldn’t let go of the Source afterwards. I felt…drunk on all that Power, and I couldn’t let go. And Mat was afraid of me. I could feel that he was, and—and he flinched away when I tried to touch him.”

Elayne hummed in sympathy. “Maybe he was just shaken up in the moment and needed a bit of space to take a breath," she suggested. “Tonight gave all of us a good fright.”

“Maybe. But I…” Rand looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “With you, and Egwene and Nynaeve and Moiraine, you’re channelers too, so I don’t have to—I know that if I lost control, you would probably be able to protect yourselves.” Maybe not, given that none of them were as strong a channeler as Rand was, but at least they stood a better chance. “But Mat—he’s completely powerless against me. If I lost control, he’d be dead in an instant. No wonder he’s afraid of me.”

His voice wobbled. Elayne’s hand came into his view and rested gently on his wrist. “Mat fought alongside Heroes of the Horn at Falme and helped hold back the Seanchan,” she said. “He’s not powerless.”

“Against the One Power, he is.”

“I suppose,” Elayne said. She was quiet for a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts. “Self-control is one of the most important qualities in a leader. For you more than most, I’d imagine. You must learn it. It will be difficult—I know how tempting the Power is, and surely saidin is far worse than saidar in that regard—but you must learn it. If Mat was afraid of you today, perhaps that’s a good thing. Perhaps you’ll remember his reaction next time, and have an easier time letting go.”

Rand looked up at her. He hadn’t thought of it like that, but…it was a good idea. Mat’s face and the fear in the bond would probably haunt him whenever he channeled for a long time to come. And maybe that was a good thing.

“I don’t know if it was just today,” he said. “Just today that he was afraid of me, I mean. He’s been acting strangely for a while, but won’t tell me why when I ask.”

“Then keep asking until he does,” Elayne said, unfazed. “That’s what marriage is about, isn’t it? Knowing each other. Being honest with each other. Trusting each other. And even from the outside, it’s easy to see how much love and trust there is between the two of you. Lean on it when you need it. It won’t let you down.”

Rand gave her a watery smile, his heart already feeling lighter. “You seem to know an awful lot about marriage for someone who’s not married,” he said.

Elayne laughed. “Well, sometimes it’s easier to give advice from atop a high horse,” she said, and Rand laughed too.

Mat stepped into the room, and Elayne quickly let go of Rand’s wrist, looking flustered. “I’ll leave you to pack,” she said, and she gave Rand an encouraging smile before leaving the room and shutting the door after her.

Deafening silence fell once Elayne was gone. Keep asking until he does. “Are you afraid of me?” Rand said.

Guilt and shame flooded the bond. “No!” Mat protested.

“Don’t lie to me,” Rand said quietly.

Mat sighed. “I’m not afraid of you,” he said. “I just…I’d never really seen you channel before, not like that. You didn’t—you didn’t look like yourself, for a minute there.”

“So you’re afraid of me,” Rand translated.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Mat repeated. “I’m afraid that one day I will look at you and you won’t be there anymore.”

Rand swallowed hard and lowered his eyes, hoping Mat wouldn’t see that he felt like he was about to cry. Though there was no point hiding it—he’d be able to feel it in the bond. Just as clearly as Rand had felt that Mat was afraid of him.

But then…Mat was crossing the room and taking Rand’s hands. There was no fear in the bond now, just sorrow and guilt.

“That is going to happen,” Rand told their entwined hands. “Someday you’ll look at me and I won’t be there anymore. Unless the Last Battle takes me first.” He took a deep breath. “You know. You know if you ever change your mind about wanting to be married to me, you can just say the word and I’ll let you go. And maybe I can figure out how to release the bond, or pass it over to Egwene or Nynaeve or—”

“Oh, shut it,” Mat said, fond and annoyed and tender all at once. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. Nothing in the world is ever going to make me change my mind. I won’t leave you. No matter what.”

He looked down at Rand’s hands in his own. Opened up the left one and gently traced over the heron brand with his finger. Lifted it up to kiss his wedding ring. Then he murmured something in the Old Tongue, affection welling up in the bond.

“What was that?” Rand asked.

Mat looked up at him, affection turning to embarrassment. “Shit. I did it again, didn’t I?” he said. Rand nodded. “Never mind, it was nothing.”

“No, tell me,” Rand said. “I want to know what you said.”

Mat scrunched up his face, clearly still embarrassed, but he said, “It was…the Old Tongue is a stupidly poetic language, mind you, but it was something like…your hands are where my heart feels safest.”

Rand felt the last of the tension leave his body, and he smiled broadly at Mat, feeling tears sting his eyes. Mat felt safe in his hands. Even after tonight, even after a mirror image of those hands had been wrapped around Mat’s throat, even after the real ones had channeled the Power too strongly. Mat still felt safe with him.

Mat let go of Rand’s hands to wrap his arms around him in a hug, and Rand let out a shaky breath and let himself lean into Mat. “I’m sorry I scared you,” Rand said.

“And I’m sorry I upset you over it,” Mat said. “We’re even.”

They weren’t even at all, seeing as it had been Rand’s own fault that he’d scared Mat and then gotten upset about it, but Rand didn’t have the heart to keep arguing. Instead, he decided to press Mat on another topic while he was in a mood to open up about his feelings.

“What’s been going on with you lately?” Rand said, pulling back from the hug. “You never sleep anymore, and when you do, you have nightmares you won’t tell me about. I can feel you constantly trying to distract yourself from whatever it is that’s bothering you—which something is, I can feel that too. Whenever I ask, you won’t tell me what’s wrong. Is it—is it because it’s about me? Have you been acting weird because you’ve been afraid of me this whole—”

“What? Light, no. Not everything is about you, you self-centered woolhead,” Mat said, nothing but sincerity in the bond, and Rand breathed a sigh of relief. “No, none of that’s had anything at all to do with you.”

“Then what has it been about?” Rand asked.

Mat frowned and looked away. “Ever since blowing the Horn…I have all these—all these images in my head,” he said. “Memories, I think. From my past lives. My head’s stuffed full of battles and death and pain. Every time I close my eyes, I can hear people screaming and dying. And speaking in the Old Tongue. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I can’t do anything, I just—I just try to drown it all out by drinking or playing dice or tumbling you or making a nuisance of myself, but nothing works.”

His voice caught, and Rand pulled him in for another hug, heart aching. What an awful thing to be dealing with. Far worse than the occasional whispers he heard in his own mind. At least those were only occasional, and only whispers rather than screams.

Mat pressed his face into Rand’s neck and sniffled, and Rand kissed the top of his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, rubbing Mat’s back soothingly. “I asked you so many times. Why didn’t you just tell me about all this?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it, not when there’s nothing you can do to help anyway,” Mat said. “You’re already dealing with so much. And I’m your Warder. It’s my job to help you carry your burdens, not to give you even more burdens.”

Rand frowned, though Mat wasn’t looking at him. “Well, I’m your husband, and it’s my job to help you carry your burdens too,” he said. “If something’s bothering you, I want to know about it. Even if I can’t do anything to help. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to deal with this alone.”

“You didn’t. My own stupid fault.” Mat lifted his head to look up at him. “I…I was talking to Nynaeve about it just now. I think—if there’s anyone who might have a chance at being able to Heal me from whatever this is, it’s her. But she wants to stay here to keep training at the Tower, to learn how to channel properly. So…”

Rand’s heart sank. “So you want to stay too,” he said. “Instead of coming with me when I leave tomorrow."

“Yeah,” Mat said softly. He took Rand’s hand again and twined their fingers together. “I don’t want to let you go alone. It should be my duty to stay by your side and protect you—as your Warder and your husband. But I’m no use to you right now, not when I can’t even hear myself think. If Nynaeve can fix me, that will be better for both of us in the long run.”

Rand nodded. “I agree,” he said. “Whatever you think might help you, I want you to try it. But I’ll miss you.”

“Me too,” Mat said, and he cupped Rand’s face in his free hand and leaned in to kiss him. Rand sank into the kiss, relieved at this further proof that Mat wasn’t afraid anymore, that it truly had been only a momentary spook.

At least this time. But when the madness started to take over…

No. That might not be for years yet. Rand wasn’t going to let himself worry about it now. There was too much else he did need to worry about.

They wandered over to the bed and settled down on it, and sat quietly in each other’s arms until the room lightened with the first rays of dawn. Well, for Rand, it was quiet. What was it like for Mat, with all those memories in his head?

He did feel relatively content in the bond, and didn’t grow restless or ask Rand to distract him. Maybe Rand helped anchor him a little. Just like Mat did for him.

They dragged themselves out of bed and began dressing for their travels. “I’ll come find you as soon as I can,” Mat said. “Once Nynaeve’s fixed me. Or if we’ve found out I’m unfixable.”

“Nynaeve will think of something,” Rand said encouragingly, though he wasn’t so sure. He’d only heard of the Power being used to Heal physical ailments. Was it possible to Heal a mind?

Would Nynaeve be able to Heal his mind, once the corruption began taking hold?

He pushed the thought aside. “Wait until you think I’m back out of the Waste before coming to find me,” he said. “You might die if you try to navigate it alone.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll get lost, when I’ve got a compass pointing straight to you,” Mat said, tapping his temple. “But I don’t really fancy a weeks-long trek through the desert on my own. How long do you think you’ll be there?”

“Light knows,” Rand said. “However long it takes to prove myself as Car’a’carn and win the Aiel’s loyalty. Hopefully not too long. I can’t afford to waste any time, not these days.”

Mat finished lacing his boot, then came over to wrap his arms around Rand. Rand sighed and rested his cheek against Mat’s, chin on his shoulder.

So much to do, and so little time. A few years, if that much, to get the entire world ready for the Last Battle.

He used to think he’d have a lifetime to spend doing nothing with Mat.

But there was no point thinking about might-have-beens. Rand let go of Mat and did a lap around the room to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind, and then they went downstairs to join the others.

Perrin was going home, as he’d confessed to Rand yesterday. It turned out that Loial was accompanying him because he wanted to see the Two Rivers, Chiad was accompanying Loial because she owed him toh for saving her life last night, and Bain was accompanying Chiad because they went everywhere together.

That meant Aviendha would be their only guide through the Waste. Rand sighed. Great. She would have been easier to deal with if Bain and Chiad had been there too; they were better company and didn’t seem to hate Rand as much as she did.

Moiraine and Lan would be following him as well, naturally. As long as Moiraine didn’t make a fuss when she found out Tear wasn’t their destination. Rand was going to wait until the last possible second to tell her the change of plans.

He smiled in relief when Egwene told him she would be coming with him instead of staying at the Tower. Thank the Light. Someone he was certain he could trust.

“Are you sure?” he asked her.

She nodded. “The Tower has nothing left to teach me,” she said, with a touch of derision. Rand couldn’t blame her, not after they’d learned how deep the Shadow’s roots had grown inside the Tower. Not after a sister had kidnapped her and sold her to the Seanchan. “I can do more good staying with you and helping you. And looking after you for Mat.”

Mat grinned. “He does tend to need looking after, doesn’t he?”

Everybody began hugging and saying their goodbyes. Rand noticed Elayne and Aviendha exchanging a soft look, and Aviendha’s hand brushed against Elayne’s and lingered a moment as she made her way to the door. Was there something there?

Elayne came up to Rand next. “Safe travels,” she said.

Rand pulled her in for a hug, and she let out a surprised breath but immediately hugged him back, before he could regret it. “Thank you,” he said. “And thank you for all your help. I’ve learned so much from you this month. I wish you could come with us.”

“So do I, believe me,” Elayne said in a long-suffering tone.

Rand laughed and let go of her, then turned to Mat. Mat cupped Rand’s face in his hands and touched his forehead to his. “You be careful, yeah?” he said. “I don’t want to hear that you ended up getting speared by Aviendha for pissing her off.”

“I’ll try to avoid that,” Rand said with another huff of laughter. “You be careful too. If there’s more Black Ajah lurking around the Tower…”

“I know,” Mat said grimly. “We’ll stick together, me and Nynaeve and Elayne.”

He leaned in to kiss Rand, deeply enough that Rand was breathless when they parted. “I love you,” Rand said. He took Mat’s hand and lifted it up to kiss his wedding ring. “My heart’s truest home.”

“I love you too.” Mat looked up to meet Rand’s eyes, his expression more open than usual and the bond full of emotion. “So much. So bloody much.”

Rand kissed him again and reluctantly let go of him. They made their way to the doorway together, with Nynaeve, Elayne, and Egwene close behind.

Aviendha was out on the street, looking impatient. “Listen, Aviendha,” Mat said. He tugged on Rand’s coat. “I know this one can be a right bloody idiot, but he’s very important to me. So I’d appreciate it if you looked after him, for my sake.”

Rand huffed in annoyance, but Mat had a point. Aviendha didn’t know it yet, but she was about to lead them through the Waste, and she had a far better idea of what dangers lurked there—and how to protect oneself from them—than anyone else in Rand’s traveling party did.

Aviendha nodded at Mat, looking very serious. “Upon my honor, I will carry out the duty with which you’ve entrusted me,” she said. She shot Rand a dirty look. “However I may feel about it.” Rand glared back at her.

“Thank you,” Mat told her, then stole one more quick kiss from Rand before turning towards the White Tower looming above the rest of the city. He looked back at the group. “Did you ever notice that the White Tower looks like a massive—”

“Move,” Nynaeve said exasperatedly, nudging him to start walking, while Rand covered his mouth to hide a laugh.

Mat gave Rand one last smile, and Rand lowered his hand to smile back.