silver_flecks | (no subject)

(no subject)

Sometimes time matters.

Sometimes it doesn't.

Some time is now, anyway, and in kairos it's the moment before, just before, the sun sets on the third day, and in chronos it's a time that's pretty far in the future from what you might think, and either way, it's now.

And there's a female form, with bright eyes, ready and waiting.

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She is there. Of course she is. Has she been anywhere else?

Who can say?

"Tick, tock." Moiraine looks up at the sky, watching the sun fall into the water. "All stories end. Endings are heartless."

"Endings are mercy," she replies mildly, dipping a foot into the water and swishing it about.

"The king is dead, long live the king. Did you learn anything?"

It's slow, and it all happens in an instant, too.

Endings are heartless, the Little Mermaid loses her chance.

Endings are mercy, because even sea foam brings relief, and the daughters of the air are waiting. It's lifting your head up and breaking the surface after being underwater for too long, and it's being in the shade after spending too much time in the sun.

"Ages turn and pass," she says softly. "Reborn."

She lifts her head, letting the wind pull at her hair.

"I comprehend."

"Good." It's contented, really, and then the sun is set.

It's not dark. Not here, not anymore. But there is a change in what is the light.

"Was it worth it?"

As the last gleam of sunset gold leaves the sky, Moiraine shivers as with chill.

"I had almost forgotten what it was to hear the quiet," she says softly. "But it was a price worth paying, I think."

"Yes." There's sand sticking to her feet, but she doesn't mind. "It takes some getting used to again, I think, really. But you always notice it more after a thing like that. The quiet, I mean. Sometimes I wonder if it's good that way. It's nice to have it happen and be able to not notice, too." She's thoughtfuly, as she talks, and muses.

Moiraine is not paying as close attention as she might to the other woman's words.

There's pressure all around when you descend into the deep, after all.

One shiver, another, and then she slowly, gracefully, sinks to the ground. With one hand out to support herself, the Aes Sedai simply sits, and breathes-- one slow, careful breath after another.

It's not graceful, just a flop, as she sits next to her sister-in-law, and sticks her feet into the water again.

The waves come up, and was the sand that was stuck away, and she wriggles each toe carefully.

"It takes getting used to."

"Yes," she murmurs, and then something within her blossoms as she opens herself to serenity and the joy of embracing saidar in truth, for the first time in three days.

As the golden aura shines, the change in her is almost indefinably subtle, but clear. Longing transformed into quiet joy, and an infinite, sweet relief.

Only for a moment, and then she releases it once again, and that very act of control itself is a comparison to the previous state that slices like a knife.

"Roses and light," she murmurs sadly.

"I never did understand that about you. Not just you. You plural you. Human type things." It's conversational, as she offers Moiraine some bread to feed the ducks with, if she wants to, and it's not something with enough context to make sense to anyone but her.

The ducks are sea shells.

The ducks are ducks.

It's really not as strange as it sounds, if you're her.

It's beyond comprehension, for her, in a way. In another, she can get it, but still.

"They smell good. Roses."

Sometimes that's reason enough to like them, everything else aside.

Automatically, she accepts the bread, and just as automatically, she crumbles it and scatters the crumbs to the ducks. It is almost numb, and the very numbness is a relief.

Her skin feels sunburned, she notes.

"They do." Simply said, and softly. There is a moment's pause, broken only by the sound of the waves and the birds.

"What is it that you did not understand?"

"Hmm? Oh." One of the ducks squeaks, and she pets its head carefully.

"I like shadows. They smell good. Like moss. Light's harsh." Simply.

"I think. Sometimes my mind gets up and just goes for a walk still. I could be wrong."

She doesn't sound very worried about this possibility.

"It can be," she says, after a moment. "It can burn or warm. Shadows can be cool and soothing, as well as something that stifles and destroys."

Her tone is somehow very weary. "Simple light and simple shadow are different matters than those of Light and the Shadow that is the evil of the Dark," she adds.

This is a distinction that has always been clear to her, although others have not always realized it.

Moiraine looks out over the water, at the reflected flickers of gold from the still-bright sky.

"I know," with a grin.

"But I'm not Light, and I'm not Dark, and I like both. Context."

She calmly pulls out a squirt gun, fills it, and shoots it at Moiraine.

"Y'know. The thing. Yeah."

"All of you do, I think," she says softly, and turns to look at her just in time for the water to catch her hair.

Seawater droplets glisten like diamonds amid the dark locks. Moiraine blinks, then gives a small sigh and a resigned smile.

"You are the expected and unexpected always, are you not?"

"Maybe." With a grin. "You know how it is. If you take life too seriously, Moiraine, it ceases to be funny. And that would be a real tragedy," she says lightly, as she carefully begins building a castle in the sand. "A little unexpected makes this more interesting."

"Siuan would agree with you, I suspect, or would have once," Moiraine replies, watching the castle form.

"There was an incident with mice, once."

"Really?" She sounds shocked.

No, honest. SHOCKED.

Except for the grin.

It's a very odd castle.

It's not pretty, and it's swirly, and it looks a bit like Escher, and a bit like Gramma's house.

But it's nice.

It's like home.

If home were made of sand.

"Derry had pet mice once. After she gave up on Djoubuti. The squirrels bothered her." It's distant and thoughtful and not quite thought out.

"They bite."

"It is the first Oath," Moiraine reminds her, leaning forward to place a pebble in a castle wall. "I may speak no word that is not true."

"Six mice. It was more than fitting, at the time." A pause. "Squirrels I have never dealt with in such a fashion."

"Wise Glowing Man says, 'Many things we believe to be true are only true from our own point of view.' I think. I was playing with a glowing sword thing and terrorizing the audience," she says readily. "Mine was ultraviolent."

A little more water, and it sticks better.

Not too much.

"They have furrier tails," solemnly.

"Perception as reality," she murmurs. "Yes, I have a certain degree of comprehension as to how that might be, as it happens."

The serene tone is still very wry.

"Black ears, as well, at least among those that I have seen."

"I don't let them around any more." Matter-of-factly.

"They mess things up and want their deposit back."

"Perhaps it is just as well, then."

The light has faded from the heavens by now, and stars are visible, gleaming with silver fire.

Moiraine leans back, looking up at them.

"I should return soon, I think."

"You should," she agrees. "It was nice to see you again, Moiraine. Tell Morpheus not to be a dickhead for me. But in Aes Sedai serene speak." Beat. "Though if you told him not to be a dickhead, I bet he'd turn funny colors."

"I think it best I leave the altering of colors to you for the time being, as it happens," she says calmly, but with a touch of humor.

Moiraine rises to her feet, brushing the sand from her skirts, and then remains still. She tilts her head slightly, looking down at the Endless.

"Thank you."

She looks up at her sister in law with two bright silver eyes and grins.

"You're welcome."

The little mermaid lifted her glorified eyes towards the sun, and felt them, for the first time, filling with tears

And then she woke up.

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