Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The wind whispered through the pines, carrying the smell of rain-soaked earth and the crisp tang of mountain air that hinted at the upcoming winter. The vast expanse of the Grizzlies stretched out beneath the sky, untouched wilderness as far as the eye could see. The late afternoon sun spilled its golden light through the trees, painting the landscape copper and amber. Everything was quiet, except for the occasional leave rustle or twig snap. A silence so thick one could almost feel it settle in the bones. 

Siuan Sanche liked the quiet. It wasn’t something she got much of, running with the kind of people she did, but when the chance came, she took it. She liked these easy moments, where there was nothing but her, the rifle in her hands, and the ground beneath her feet. Out here, she didn’t have to think too hard about all the mess waiting for her back at camp. The debts, the lies, the heavy burdens of life that clung to her like a second skin. 

The buck had wandered into her view some time ago, just before dusk began to stretch over the forest. She had tracked it quietly, patiently, followed its unhurried movements that seemed as though it had never learned to fear anything beyond the howling of the wind.

Siuan crouched low behind a boulder, her sharp eyes studying the large animal as it grazed unaware in the clearing ahead. It was a big one, more than enough meat to feed the gang for days. Venison would be a welcome change from the stringy squirrels they often had, and more importantly, it’d be a small victory - something she needed after the recent chaos their leader had stirred up in Valentine. That man was bound to get them all killed one of these days, but for now, Siuan had to focus on her hunting duty. 

"Almost there," she muttered under her breath, fingers ghosting over the stock of her rifle. She lined up her shot, feeling the solid weight of the weapon in her hands. Perfect shot. Right between the eyes, just how she’d been taught. Just a squeeze of the trigger and…

A sharp crack echoed through the air.

But her finger hadn’t even twitched.

The deer’s legs buckled as it crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap, blood oozing from a fatal wound to its heart. Siuan stared, her eyes narrowing into slits as she realized someone had just stolen her kill. Slowly, she rose from her hiding spot, peering through the trees, looking for the person who’d fired shot. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she muttered. She wasn’t one to take kindly to interference, especially not when it involved loosing a deer she’d been tracking for the better part of the afternoon. 

Without hesitation, Siuan marched toward the source of the shot, footsteps swift but silent. As she reached the edge of the clearing, she spotted her. A woman, thin in stature but unmistakably sure of herself. She wore a long, cobalt-blue coat, and though she hadn’t yet looked up, Siuan could feel the air around her brimming with self-assurance, as if the stranger didn’t even need to acknowledge her presence. 

Siuan felt her irritation rise. 

“Well, ain’t that somethin’!” she called out, her tone as sharp as the snap of a whip. She planted one hand on her hip, letting her rifle hang lazily from her other hand. “That’s a mighty fine buck you shot there, lady. Shame it’s mine.” 

The woman paused, finally acknowledging Siuan's presence. Her head lifted, and their eyes met. For a moment, Siuan’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected such a clear, icy blue gaze, so direct and unflinching. She’d been prepared to face some trigger-happy greenhorn or a backwoods hunter who’d scurry off at the sight of a pissed-off outlaw. Instead, this woman stood tall, her posture straight and composed. No sign of fear. If anything, there was a quiet challenge in her eyes.

“Yours?” the stranger asked with a calm voice, almost too calm for the situation. She took another step towards the dead animal with a casual air that made Siuan grit her teeth. “I don’t see your name on it, nor your bullet in its heart.”

Siuan huffed out a laugh, low and rough like gravel. “Didn’t realize we were writin’ names on the deer ‘round these parts. Maybe I’ll start carryin’ a pen next time.”

“I shot it, fair and square. You were too slow. Perhaps if you’d been quicker, the deer would be yours. As it is, I understand it’s mine.” 

Siuan couldn’t help but snort, shaking her head. “Ain’t you got a pretty way of talkin’, like you’re some highborn lady out of one of ‘em books.” She took another step closer, looking the woman up and down with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. “But I don’t care how you talk, or how you look. Out here, things ain’t settled with smart words.” 

The stranger’s lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile, though there was no humor in it. “No, they aren’t, I know that. But it would be unwise to assume I can’t handle myself.” 

The challenge hung between them as the forest darkened with the setting sun. For a moment, neither of them moved. Siuan’s fingers flexed around her rifle, not in threat but in a way that said she was unsure of what to make of the stranger standing opposite her. Most folks would’ve bolted by now, intimidated or scared stiff. This woman? She was like a statue; stoic and composed.

"Seems we got ourselves a bit of a problem, then," Siuan drawled, her voice lowering, taking on a more dangerous edge. "See, I don’t take kindly to folks stealin' what's mine."

The woman lifted her head slightly, her gaze flicking to Siuan's rifle for a brief second before it returned to meet her eyes. "Then perhaps you should’ve been faster."

The comment should’ve stoked a fire in Siuan. She ought to be furious, ready to toss this woman on her ass and drag the buck back to camp. But instead, her irritation fizzled out into something else. Curiosity? Amusement? There was something about the way the stranger carried herself, the way she didn’t so much as flinch. That kind of composure... it made Siuan pause.

“Tell you what,” she said after a moment, letting out a long breath as she rubbed her jaw. “Just keep the deer. I reckon it’s your lucky day.”

The woman’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face before that cool mask slid back into place. “How very generous of you,” she said, though there was a mild suspicion in her tone, a sharpness beneath the cover of politeness. Sarcasm, maybe. Siuan couldn’t quite tell.

“Let’s call it charity,” Siuan replied, flashing her a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Or maybe I do feel generous. Don’t happen often, so I’d count your blessings.”

A pause. “I didn’t ask for charity.”

“No,” Siuan agreed, pulling her hat lower on her head. “But sometimes you get it anyway.” 

The woman didn’t answer, simply glancing back down at the deer as if the conversation was already over. She crouched down, pulling a knife from her belt to begin the business of cleaning her kill. 

Siuan watched her for a long moment, the silence settling back in between them. There was something about this woman, something that tugged at her nerves in a way she couldn’t quite put a finger on, something almost regal in the way she moved, the way she spoke. Not like the rough, hard-bitten folks Siuan was used to dealing with out here in the wild. The stranger was like a locked door, and damn it, Siuan had always been the type to kick those in.

However, it was getting dark and she knew the gang would give her hell for coming back late and with nothing but some morsels. Without another word, she made her way back to where her horse was hidden, but it seemed like the stranger wasn’t done with her just yet. 

“You always let your prey go so easily?” 

Siuan turned on her heel with a sigh. She hated it when people tried her and challenged her patience and goodwill. “Lady,  I reckon it ain’t wise to push your luck. Things are settled, ain’t they?” 

The woman didn’t answer right away. Instead, she let go of her knife, her fingers brushing over the coarse fur of the deer on the ground. “I’m not afraid of you, outlaw.” 

“Outlaw?” Siuan raised an eyebrow. “You seem to have me all figured out, huh?”

“Aren’t you?” The woman’s gaze flicked up to meet hers again, as sharp and focused as a hawk’s. “You look it. You act it. But you let me walk away with what you claim is your kill. I wonder what kind of dangerous outlaw you really are.” 

Siuan tried to stay calm, tried to count to three before making an unwise decision. Sassy as that stranger was, she could tell the woman wasn’t looking for a real fight, and neither was she. “I’m the kind that picks her battles. And this one ain’t worth it. So take the goddamn deer and be on your way.”

The woman stood up slowly, wiping the blood from her knife on the hem of her coat. She studied Siuan for a moment, as if weighing something in her mind. Then, with a soft sigh, she said, “I don’t even know your name.” 

“Well, you ain’t exactly asked ‘bout my name, have you?” 

“I ask now.” The stranger’s lips quirked into what might’ve been the beginning of a smile, though it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. 

“Name’s Siuan,” she replied with her rough voice, “Siuan Sanche.” 

The huntress nodded, as if storing the name away for later. “My name is Moiraine,” she said quietly, tone softer now, “just Moiraine.” She then glanced back down at the deer, seemed like she was considering whether to say something more. 

"You from around here, Moiraine?" Siuan asked, trying to sound casual, but she was curious now, more than she’d care to admit.

Moiraine hesitated, her eyes flicking toward the distant mountains as if she was scanning the horizon for an answer. "Not exactly," she said. "But I’ve lived here long enough."

Siuan raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought I knew these woods better than most. Haven’t seen you ‘round before."

"I don’t make a habit of being seen," Moiraine said evenly.

Siuan smirked. "Well, you sure made yourself known today. Shootin’ a buck right out from under me ain’t exactly subtle."

"I suppose I was in a hurry."

"Must’ve been some kinda hurry, to risk pissin’ me off like that," Siuan remarked. "Most folks would’ve been halfway to the next county by now."

Moiraine didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she crouched beside the deer again, her hands deftly working as she began skinning the animal. "Most folks aren’t me."

There it was again, that calm, almost arrogant demeanour, like Moiraine was used to being in control of every situation she found herself in. Siuan watched her for a moment longer, not sure if she should be impressed or irritated by this attitude. The gang always said she had a weakness for the strange ones, the people who didn’t quite fit into the usual mold. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t already riding off.

"You plan on doin’ that all by yourself?" Siuan asked, nodding toward the deer.

"I’ll manage."

"Yeah, you look like you do. But a little help wouldn’t hurt, would it?"

"I don’t need help," Moiraine replied, her tone sharp enough to cut through the tension between them.

Siuan let out a low chuckle. "Calm down, lady. Never said you needed it. But sometimes, it ain’t about needin’. Sometimes it’s just… nice."

Moiraine paused for a fraction of a second, her fingers stilling for just long enough that Siuan knew she’d hit some sort of nerve. But then the moment passed, and she resumed her work as if nothing had happened.

"I prefer to be alone," Moiraine said, her tone cool and clipped. 

"That right?" Siuan’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying the woman more closely. "Or is that just what you tell yourself?"

Moiraine’s hands slowed again, and for the first time, she looked genuinely irritated. "What do you want?"

The question caught Siuan off guard, mostly because she wasn’t entirely sure of the answer herself. She hadn’t exactly planned to have a heart-to-heart with a stranger in the woods.

"I don’t want nothin’," Siuan said at last, rubbing the back of her neck. "Just thought we could have a conversation without the sharp edges."

Moiraine straightened up, her eyes locked onto Siuan’s with an intensity that made her stomach twist in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. This tension. Siuan could feel it, could almost see it in the way Moiraine’s eyes lingered on hers a little longer than necessary. For a moment, it seemed like neither of them was going to break the silence. But then, with a small sigh, Moiraine turned her attention back to the task at hand, the walls going back up around her as quickly as they’d come down.

"You should go back to your camp," Moiraine said quietly. "Your people will wonder where you are."

Siuan nodded slowly, tipping her hat in a quiet farewell. “Right, yeah. Guess I should.”

Chapter Text

The ride back to camp was quiet except for the occasional rustling of squirrels in the underbrush and the soft rhythm of hooves on packed dirt. Siuan kept her head low, her mind turning over the events of the day. Normally, she’d be half-listening for any signs of trouble; wolves, bounty hunters, lawmen, but tonight, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Moiraine.

What a strange name. It sounded... special, foreign? French, maybe? But definitely not the kind of French you'd find in Saint Denis. The name lingered on her tongue, as though it had weight.

The stranger Moiraine.

That woman was something else. Stoic, collected, but sharper than a well-honed blade. Siuan had seen plenty of people in her time; crazy folks, scared folks, people out for blood and people just trying to survive. But Moiraine... she didn’t fit into any of those boxes. She hadn’t been scared, that was for sure. And she hadn’t seem to just trying to get by. She’d moved like someone who had purpose, like someone who’d chosen her life. It was odd. And unsettling.

Siuan huffed, tipping her hat down as if it could block out the thought about the stranger. But... the way Moiraine had looked at her, that cold stare as if she'd sized Siuan up in a second and deemed her irrelevant. Maybe it was just Siuan’s instincts, finely tuned after years of dealing with folks who wore lies like second skins. Or maybe it was the way Moiraine had spoken, that steady, almost regal tone of hers, like she was above it all. Either way, Siuan couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman was hiding something.

The camp came into view, a haphazard sprawl of tents and wagons nestled beneath the trees, their usual cover in case the law got too close. The gang was scattered around, lounging around the fire, drinking, sharpening knives, or cleaning guns. A couple of the women were sitting off to the side, laughing quietly, though their eyes flitted in her direction the moment they saw her riding in. No doubt they’d noticed her returning basically empty-handed. Again. 

Siuan straightened in the saddle, rolling her shoulders to shake off the lingering unease. 

"Sanche!" A  familiar voice rang out - Thom, one of the boys in the gang who was always ready with a joke at someone else’s expense.

“You’re finally back,” he said, setting his guitar aside and sauntering over with a sly grin. 

“Mister Merrilin,” Siuan greeted him casually. 

“What feast’d you bring us this time? A couple of squirrels again?"

Siuan dismounted with a grunt, yanking her rifle off the saddle. "Thom, if you’re so desperate for a meal, how ‘bout you get off your lazy ass and do some huntin’ yourself for once?"

A grin, a toothy one that made Siuan want to smack it off his face. "Nah, I’d leave that to the expert. You know, the great Siuan Sanche, right hand to the boss himself! Wouldn’t wanna step on your toes."

The gang snickered around the fire, a few of them throwing glances her way as if waiting to see how she'd respond. Siuan sucked in a breath, trying to shove down the annoyance that bubbled in her chest. Her fingers flexed on the rifle strap, imagining Thom’s grin fading when she whacked him upside the head with it. But she didn’t. Instead, she straightened up, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze dead on.

"Ah, come on! Enlighten me, partner,” Siuan said, barely suppressing her smirk. “Think I wanna learn from a master hunter like you are. Still remember that time you killed that rabbit with a shotgun. Real creative way of cutting somethin’ to mouth-sized pieces.” 

Thom’s smug grin dropped right off his face, and Siuan knew she had him. His jaw twitched, and the rest of the gang broke into laughter. Siuan let a slow, satisfied smirk curl at the corner of her mouth. That’s right.

"Besides,” she said while moving towards the campfire, “I was this close to bringin’ back a fine-ass deer." She held her fingers up with a small gap between them. "Would’ve, too, if some stranger hadn’t shot it out from under me."

Thom’s grin came creeping back, though a little more cautious this time. "Some stranger?" His eyebrows shot up. "What, a man finally bested you at huntin’? That’s gotta sting."

Siuan gave him a sharp look. "Wasn’t no man."

That shut him up for a second. The others around the fire, who had been chuckling along with the banter, also fell quiet. Siuan was known for handling her own out in the wild, for coming back with game more often than not. For someone to outshoot her, especially a woman, was enough to stir their interest.

"What kind of woman takes down a deer faster than you?" Lan asked from his perch against a nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest. His smirk was less mocking than Thom’s, but there was still a playful edge to his tone.

Siuan tossed her rifle onto a crate with a clatter and crossed her arms. "She was... a huntress, I guess. Real quick, real quiet. Didn’t ruffle a single leaf. Seemed to know those woods better’n most." Her voice dropped slightly as she recalled Moiraine’s effortless control, the way she’d moved through the trees like she belonged there.

Thom let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "So, mystery woman swoops in, snatches your deer, and you what? Just let her walk off with it? Didn’t even chase her down?"

Siuan shrugged, keeping her expression as unreadable as possible. "She shot it fair and square."

Thom snorted, rolling his eyes. "Sounds like you’ve gone soft, Sanche."

Normally, she’d let his remarks roll off her back. The banter was part of camp life, a way to keep spirits up in hard times. But tonight, after everything that had happened, her patience was running thinner than a hair on a razor.

"You wanna test that theory, Thom?" Siuan shot back.

No answer followed, and he waved a hand dismissively, settling back down. "Nah, no need, Siuan. We all know you ain’t soft. I’m just kiddin’ with ya."

She held his gaze a moment longer before turning away, feeling the weight of the gang’s curious stares still on her. It wasn’t like her to let someone – anyone – get the better of her, and it sure as hell wasn’t like her to walk away from a confrontation. But something about Moiraine had made her stop in her tracks. And that bothered her more than she cared to admit, especially in front of the gang. 

She grabbed a stool and plopped down by the fire, pulling out a piece of cloth to start cleaning her rifle. Soon enough, the others drifted into their own conversations, and Siuan tried to push the thoughts of the mysterious woman from her mind. But Moiraine lingered there, stubborn as a thorn caught in her shoe.

"Thom’s an ass," Lan said without preamble, approaching her after some time. 

Siuan arched an eyebrow. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

He laughed, taking a seat next to her. “So,” he grinned. "Was she any pretty, at least?"

Siuan didn’t look up from her rifle, keeping her voice as casual as possible. "Don’t know. Didn’t really give a second thought to her."

It was a lie. One she felt heating her cheeks even as she said it. The truth was, she had given Moiraine more than a second thought; she couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way she’d stood there, calm as the dawn itself, handling that deer like it was just another day. Siuan had met plenty of capable women before. Hell, she was one herself, but something about the huntress didn’t sit right. It wasn’t just the way she moved, the way she spoke, the subtle hint of an accent she had that Siuan couldn’t quite place. It was the way she’d looked at Siuan, like she’d seen through every mask she’d ever worn. And yes, she was pretty. Damn, beautiful, actually. She had noticed that right away. 

“There’s somethin’ off about her. Can’t quite place it.” Siuan talked more to herself than to Lan but her musing definitely caught his attention. 

“Off how?” 

Siuan hesitated, searching for the right words. “Hell, I don’t know. She carries herself differently. Talks like she’s from somewhere else. Not just another fellow passing through.” 

Lan nodded, but didn’t ask any further questions, and so Siuan finished cleaning her rifle in peace.

As the night wore on, the noises grew quieter, the fire burning down to embers. The camp fell into its usual lull; snoring from a few tents, the occasional shift of someone settling into sleep, but Siuan’s mind was still turning. She let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging as she closed her eyes. 

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. When it finally did, it brought with it dreams of blue eyes and a pretty face, of a woman standing tall and quiet in the deep, wild woods of the cold mountains. And when Siuan woke up again, long before dawn, she was no closer to shaking off the feeling that Moiraine was going to be trouble.

*

The town of Van Horn had a way of clinging to you, like the smell of cheap whiskey and stale tobacco that never really left your clothes. It had always a rough place where the desperate and the dangerous rubbed shoulders. 

Siuan liked it just fine. 

It wasn’t as fancy as Saint Denis, nor as friendly as Valentine, but it was one of the few places where she could lose herself in a round of poker, toss back a few drinks, and maybe find a little trouble if it came her way. And it had something those other places lacked: anonymity. No one asked questions in Van Horn, and no one gave a damn about you, as long as your money was good and your gun stayed holstered.

Tonight was no different. The streets were muddy from a recent rain, and the sound of rowdy voices echoed from the saloon. Siuan swung down off her horse and tied the reins to the nearest post, glancing at the few figures lurking in the shadows of the gloomy streets. She straightened her hat, squared her shoulders, and pushed her way inside the saloon, letting the warmth and noise swallow her whole.

The smoky haze of the establishment greeted her like an old friend. The air inside was thick - thick with the stench of sweat and booze, thick with the kind of folks who spent their last dollars gambling in a place like this because they had nowhere else to be. Men sat hunched over tables, talking low or laughing loud, depending on how much liquor they’d had. Siuan made a beeline for the bar.

"Evenin'," she grunted, leaning on the counter and slapping down a quarter.

The bartender, a heavyset man with a permanent scowl etched into his face, didn’t even bother to look up from wiping the bar. He reached for a bottle without a word, sliding a glass of whiskey her way with practiced indifference.

"Busy night?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder and eyeing a few rough-looking patrons hovering over their drinks.

"As usual," the bartender replied, his voice a dull rumble. "Cards are startin’ up in the back if you're lookin' to lose some money." He nodded toward a passageway at the far end of the room.

Siuan smirked and threw back her whiskey in one swift motion, feeling the burn of it all the way down. She sighed. That was better. She set the glass down with a soft thud, relishing the way the liquor felt like a warm coal in her belly. "Much obliged," she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before making her way toward the back room, where the real action was.

The back of the saloon was dimly lit, the scent of tobacco thick enough to sting her eyes. A group of men sat around a rickety table, their faces half-hidden by the smoke curling from their cigarettes. Siuan didn’t recognize any of them, but she didn’t need to. The look was always the same; gamblers with little more than the shirts on their backs to bet and desperate enough to risk it all on the next hand of poker.

“Evenin’, gentlemen,” Siuan drawled, tossing her hat onto a chair and taking the open seat at the table. “Deal me in.”

The man shuffling the cards paused, his gaze flicking from Siuan’s face to the revolver strapped to her hip, then back again. He snorted. “Ain’t no place for womenfolk. Cards is a man’s game.”

She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table, her grin slow and sharp. “That so? And here I thought cards were for whoever had the cash to play.” Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made the man hesitate.

Another man at the table, taller and scrawny with a patchy beard, leaned back in his chair and grinned. “You oughta know better, lady. Men don’t take kindly to gettin’ beat by a woman, ‘specially not a woman who walks in like she owns the damn place.”

Siuan’s smile didn’t waver. “I’m not askin’,” she said, her tone turning cold. “I’m sittin’.”

The tension around the table thickened like the cigarette smoke. The dealer’s eyes flicked nervously to the other men. A few of them grumbled, but no one moved to stop her. Siuan wasn’t just some drunk wandering in for a quick gamble, and they knew it. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a stack of bills, tossing them onto the table with a casual flick of her wrist.

“There’s my buy-in,” she said, her voice steady and unbothered. “Let’s get started.”

The man who’d first spoken, a big fellow with arms as big as trunks, glared at her from across the table. His eyes were dark, his lips curling with contempt. “Think you can handle it?” he growled. “Poker takes brains and balls. Two things you ain’t got.”

Siuan's grin widened, turning as sharp as a knife. “You wanna bet on that theory, sport? Or you wanna keep flappin’ your gums while I take all your money and leave you wonderin’ what in hell hit you?”

A few of the men snickered at that, but the burly one wasn’t laughing. His face reddened and he looked like he was about to say something, but he kept his mouth shut.

Eventually, sensing the shift in the room, he nodded and resumed shuffling the cards, his hands moving fast and smooth. Siuan leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, her gaze never leaving the men around the table. She wasn’t here to make friends, and she sure as hell wasn’t here to play nice. She was here for the money, for winning, and to keep her mind off things she didn’t want to think about. Things like blue-eyed huntresses in the mountains.

The cards were dealt, and the game began.

At first, the men tried to ignore her, acting as though she wasn’t a threat. Good. Let them think that. They played their hands with reckless confidence, betting heavily and throwing glances her way, as if waiting for her to flinch. But Siuan had seen that tactic too many times before to rise to their bait.  

The first few hands were all about reading the room. Folding when necessary, keeping her bets modest, and watching - watching the way their fingers tapped against the table when they were bluffing, the way their eyes flicked to their money when they had something worth holding onto. Poker wasn’t just a game of cards, it was a game of people. And Siuan was damn good at reading people.

It wasn’t until the third hand that she started showing them what she was made of.

“Raise,” she said casually, tossing a handful of bills into the pot like it was nothing. The big man across from her frowned, glancing at his cards, clearly unsure.

“That’s a lot of money for a lady to throw around. You sure you ain’t gonna cry when you lose it all?,” he said, trying for a laugh but failing.

Siuan raised an eyebrow. “I sure as hell won’t. But I can hold your hand if you start cryin’, partner.”

The men around the table chuckled, the big man huffed, throwing his own money into the pot with an angry frown. “Call.”

The others followed suit, though they looked less certain with each new card. One by one, they folded, leaving only the big man and Siuan. He narrowed his eyes, trying to read her but she gave away nothing, keeping her face impassive even as he threw in more of his money. 

“Raise,” he said, his grin widening as if he’d already won. “And then, let’s see ‘em!”

Without a word, Siuan tossed in the difference and flipped her cards. A straight flush stared back at him from the table. The man’s grin faltered, his face twisting into a scowl as he cursed under his breath and threw down his losing hand. Double aces. Good cards, but not enough.

Siuan smirked as she raked in the pot, the bills crumpling under her fingers as the men around her exchanged frustrated glances. 

The next hand was even worse for them. She dragged it out, letting the tension build, watching with amusement as the big man’s face turned redder with every card laid down.

“Dammit,” he muttered, his fingers curling into fists as he threw his cards down. “I fold.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a man’s game,” Siuan teased, her voice low and mocking. “Y’all foldin’ like a bunch of schoolboys.”

That earned her a few glares, but no one said anything, their bravado from earlier gone.

As the game wore on, Siuan’s winnings grew, her pile of bills slowly overtaking the center of the table. The whiskey flowed freely, and though the men were grumbling into their drinks, none of them seemed willing to walk away just yet. Pride was keeping them there more than anything else. Siuan had seen it a hundred times before.

“You just have dumb luck, lady” one of them muttered, throwing down his cards with a sneer. “Can’t be natural.”

Siuan gave him a lazy grin. “Sure, let’s call it that. If it helps you sleep at night.”

The man shot her an evil look, but Siuan ignored him, turning her attention to the dealer, who was reshuffling the deck for another round. As he did, her eyes wandered around the room, drifting over the old wanted posters pinned to the walls. She wasn’t usually interested in hunting down bounties, too much trouble for too little pay, but tonight, one of the posters caught her eye.

It was half-covered by another, the edges curling with age and neglect. She wouldn’t have noticed it if not for the name printed at the top in bold, faded letters: Princess Isabeau Katharina Zinsmeister. The ink was smudged, the details barely legible, but Siuan didn’t need to read the rest to know what it said. She’d heard the story before. A missing princess, gone twenty years. Still wanted. And the reward? A staggering $1000.

"Hey, ya playin’ or not?" one of the men growled. 

Siuan blinked, tearing her gaze away from the poster and picking up her cards. "Yeah, I’m playin’. Hold your horses."

She forced her focus back to the game, but her mind wasn’t fully on the cards anymore. That poster had stirred something in her gut, a feeling she couldn’t quite shake. She wasn’t one to chase fairy tales, but something about that damn name gnawed at her. Isabeau. It didn’t sit right. Just like Moiraine’s name hadn’t. And now the two were tangled up together in her head.

The game dragged on, and though Siuan kept winning, she didn’t care much about the money anymore. By the time the night was winding down, she had cleaned out nearly everyone at the table. The big man sat slumped in his chair, his face sullen and his pockets empty. The others weren’t faring much better. Siuan grabbed her winnings with a satisfied smirk. She’d had her fill of poker for now, and the whiskey in her veins was warm enough to keep the cold of the night at bay. But instead of heading for the door and stepping out into the muddy street, she wandered over to the old, faded poster.

She pulled it down, squinting at the barely legible words. Most of it had been worn away, the picture of the girl fuzzy, but the reward was still clear. One. Thousand. Dollars... for any information leading to the recovery of the missing princess. Or her corpse.

"Seems like a hell of a lot of dollar bills for someone who’s probably bones by now," she muttered under her breath, folding the poster and slipping it into her satchel.

“Need another drink?” the bartender called from behind the counter, raising an eyebrow as she wandered back into the main room.

Siuan shook her head, flipping a coin onto the bar. “Nah,” she said, her voice low. “Thanks for hostin’.”

The streets of Van Horn were quieter now, the late hour chasing away most of the drunks and gamblers who had made the place lively earlier. Siuan stepped out into the cool night air, her breath forming small clouds in the chilly breeze. She mounted her horse and nudged it forward.

The path out of town was a familiar one, but tonight it felt different. The night was colder than usual, the wind biting at Siuan’s cheeks as her horse trotted along the empty road. Overhead, the stars were blotted out by clouds, and the moon hung low, casting only a faint, pale glow over the landscape.

Normally, she’d be running through the evening’s events in her mind, feeling the thrill of victory after winning a tidy sum at the poker table. She’d cleaned up well, left those men fuming in her wake, but the money hardly registered in her thoughts. No, tonight, her mind kept drifting back to that bounty poster, and more annoyingly, back to the stranger she had met in the mountains the other day.

Moiraine. Damn her for gettin’ stuck in Siuan’s head, even days after their encounter.

"The boys are right. Gettin’ soft, Sanche," she muttered to herself, the whiskey in her system loosening her tongue. "Can’t be wastin’ time thinkin’ ‘bout some woman in the woods no more."

But even as she said it, the thought wouldn’t leave her alone. Her mind kept circling back to the same damn questions. Who was Moiraine, really? And why the hell couldn’t Siuan stop thinking about her?

And then there was this poster. The story of the lost princess had been around for years. Siuan had heard it in bits and pieces, usually from drunks in saloons or old-timers who liked spinning tales for the price of a drink. A little girl, European, disappeared on a hunting trip with her family, never to be seen again. Most people figured she’d died, either lost in the woods or taken by someone who had no intention of returning her. Others believed she’d been swept away by the river, her body long buried under layers of dirt and time.

Siuan had never paid much attention to it, never seen one of the posters herself. Bounty hunters had gone after that reward for years and come up with nothing. It was just another story, another way to keep the hopeful chasing shadows.

"Fairy tale," she muttered again, but even as she said it, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was strange. About Moiraine and about that bounty. A missing princess... and a lone woman in the woods... What were the chances?

“Couldn’t be,” Siuan muttered under her breath, though the shiver that ran down her spine wasn’t entirely from the cold. The idea of that much money... it was enough to make anyone dream a little. One thousand dollars could change her life. It could set her up for good, maybe even give her a way out of this damned outlaw life. But it was ridiculous. Chasing that reward would be chasing shadows. And yet...

Siuan clicked her tongue, urging her horse into a trot. She needed to get back to camp, back to the gang. There was always something to do, some things to manage. Thinking about Moiraine, or the princess, wasn’t going to get her anywhere. 

Chapter Text

The morning arrived with a biting chill, the kind that made every breath feel like inhaling shards of glass. Siuan rose before the rest of the gang did, her movements were quiet but purposeful. 

Her breath came in soft, visible puffs as she knelt down to pack up her bedroll, fingers stiff and numb from the cold. She slung it over her saddle, giving her horse a gentle pat on the neck. Mounting up, she nudged the mare forward with a light press of her heels.

As they left the camp behind, the forest began to stir. Songbirds trilled from high branches and the underbrush rustled with life. It was a peaceful morning, one that should’ve cleared her mind, but Siuan’s thoughts weren’t on the road ahead.  

It wasn’t like anyone had assigned her hunting duties for the day, but that didn’t matter. With winter creeping in, any extra provisions were welcome, and no one would question her heading out to track some game. However, hunting wasn’t the only reason she found herself drawn back into the mountains. Something else pulled at her: Truths. 

Weeks had passed, and though she’d tried to let it go, the huntress remained a nagging presence in the back of her mind. Some days, Siuan could push the thoughts aside, focusing on the tasks at hand. But on mornings like this, when the world seemed too quiet and her mind was left to wander, those piercing blue eyes crept back into her thoughts.

She recalled the way Moiraine’s long, brown hair had gleamed in the fading sunlight, each strand catching the light like threads of silk. And her blue coat - worn, yes, but meticulously cared for despite the rugged environment. The woman  hadn’t been the usual wreck of people roughing it alone in the wilderness. It didn’t add up, not at all. How did someone who lived so far from civilization manage to keep themselves so… put together?

Siuan let out a quiet huff. “Bathin’ in that icy river, I bet,” she muttered to herself. 

The thought alone was enough to send a flush creeping up her neck. The mental image of Moiraine standing bare in the freezing water, skin pale and wet against the backdrop of the mountains… 

Siuan swallowed hard, a strange warmth spreading through her belly. She shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, her fingers tightening around the reins as if gripping harder would somehow steady her mind.

“Damn it, Sanche,” she hissed at herself. “Don’t even go there.”

But no matter how hard she tried, it was undeniable. That woman had gotten under her skin in a way Siuan couldn’t explain. There was something about her, a mystery that begged to be unraveled. Moiraine was no helpless damsel, that much was clear. But what was she hiding? She clearly was hiding something. They always did, folks like Moiraine. Siuan could feel it in her gut, the same instinct that had kept her alive for years in a world that didn’t take kindly to people like her.

Her thoughts shifted, unbidden, to the wanted poster.

She hadn’t shown it to anyone, hadn’t even spoken of it since the night she’d torn it down in Van Horn. But it stayed with her, folded and tucked away in her satchel. The image was faded, the paper worn thin at the creases, but there was something about the picture of the girl, something Siuan couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

She glanced down at her satchel, her fingers itching to pull out the poster again, to compare the face of the girl to the woman she’d met in the mountains. What if the missing princess was Moiraine? The idea sent a jolt through her. It seemed absurd, yet the thought persisted.

No, not a chance. It was more likely that her mind was just running wild. She’d seen that poster, put two and two together, and now her brain was playing tricks on her. The idea was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Why would someone who could have all the money in the world, someone with power, with a family, be living out there, alone, scraping by? It didn’t make any sense.

But still…

Siuan frowned, rubbing a gloved hand over her face. What if Moiraine simply didn’t remember who she was? The stories said the princess had been swept away by the river, lost to the wild. She could’ve hit her head, could have forgotten everything.  

The logical part of her scoffed at the idea. It sounded like the kind of nonsense you heard around campfires. But there was another part of her, the part that knew that stranger things had happened before… and the part that knew the value of a dollar.

One thousand dollars. Not exactly peanuts. The reward was a fortune, more money than Siuan had ever owned. Turning in the lost princess could solve a whole heap of problems. If Moiraine was the right clue… well, there was only one right thing to do: drag her to the nearest sheriff and walk away with a fat stack of cash.

But that was just a dream, a damned fairy tale. The wilderness had a way of twisting things in your head, making you see connections where there were none. With a sigh, Siuan shook her head. Her mind was chasing ghosts. A lost princess living alone in the Grizzlies. Ridiculous.

As the road ahead forked into two, leading deeper into the mountains, Siuan hesitated. She pulled back on the reins, slowing her horse to a near stop. Her eyes fixed on the familiar track winding off into the dense woods. It was the same trail she’d taken before, the one that had led her straight into Moiraine’s orbit, whether by chance or fate. And now here she was again, being pulled back toward it like a moth to a flame. She nudged her horse forward, steering it onto the path without a second thought. 

The hours passed quietly as she rode, uneventful. The trail grew narrower the further she went, barely more than a deer path now, the kind only the wild things took. Siuan’s eyes scanned the tree line, searching for any sign of game, but the woods seemed unusually empty today. No tracks, no movement, just the occasional call of a distant raven. Not even a squirrel crossed her path. It was eerie, somehow.

As she ventured deeper into the forest, Siuan’s horse snorted, its ears flicking back and forth. The trees grew closer here, their branches arching over them like skeletal fingers.

Siuan’s hand instinctively drifted to the rifle slung across the saddle. She knew better than to let her guard down. Cougars, bears and wolves, all were common here. She’d had more than one close encounter with them in the past few months. The damn animals were getting bolder, hungrier. 

The thought of predators made her think of the night she’d met the strange huntress once again, how calm the woman had been, how utterly unfazed. Most folks out here carried some kind of fear with them, whether they admitted it or not. Fear of what lurked just out of sight, fear of the unexpected, the unknown dangers of either animal or man. But not Moiraine. 

Siuan clicked her tongue, urging her horse into a trot and trying to push it forward through the dense thicket. But the animal resisted, its snort sharper this time and its ears pinned back. She frowned, patting its neck in an attempt to calm it down. 

“Easy now, girl,” she muttered, “Ain’t nothin’ gonna get us.” 

The horse wasn’t convinced. Its hooves shuffled nervously on the ground, its head jerking up and its nostrils flaring wide. It surely had seen something… something Siuan hadn’t caught yet.

Her grip tightened on the reins, her instincts kicking in when she suddenly heard it, the low rattle of the lurking danger. 

Her eyes snapped to the ground ahead, locking onto a diamondback rattlesnake coiled beneath a patch of dry leaves and twigs, its tail vibrating in warning. The snake was almost perfectly camouflaged, blending seamlessly into the forest floor.

Before she could react, her horse reared back, eyes wild with fear. The sudden movement caught Siuan off guard. Her body lurched in the saddle as she fought to keep her balance, gripping the reins tighter, trying to calm the panicked animal.

“Whoa! Easy now!” she shouted, but her words were lost to the mare’s terror. She cursed under her breath, her hands fumbling for control, but the horse bucked violently, tossing her off sideways. 

She hit the ground with a hard thud. The impact knocked the breath clean out of her lungs. Her head slammed against something solid, and for a moment, the world tilted. Pain radiated through her skull, a blinding flash that blurred the edges of her vision. She gasped, struggling to fill her lungs with air as stars danced across her sight.

Through the haze, Siuan could barely make out the sound of her horse’s hooves pounding the earth, galloping down the trail, away from her. The damn thing had bolted, leaving her sprawled out in the dirt. She lay dazed and breathless, watching as the snake slithered off, clearly uninterested in her. 

“Oh brother…,” she groaned, rolling onto her back with a wince. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through her body. Her shoulder burned, her head throbbed, and her ribs ached from the hard fall. She reached up to touch her temple, her fingers coming away sticky with blood. 

“Well, ain’t this a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into,” she muttered to herself. 

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself into a sitting position, every muscle in her body protesting the effort. The forest spun around her, and she had to close her eyes for a moment to steady herself. When she opened them again, the reality of her situation sank in.

Siuan glanced down the trail where her mare had vanished, her eyes scanning the empty path. No sign of the animal, just trees over trees as far as she could see. Great. She was stranded, with nothing but a splitting headache for company. 

After a few deep breaths, she attempted to stand. Her legs wobbled, but they held. She took stock of her belongings. Her rifle was miraculously still strapped to her back, though the fall had knocked it loose in its sling. Her satchel, too, remained slung across her shoulder. 

With a sigh, she reached for the weapon, giving it a quick once-over. She checked the chamber, making sure it was loaded and ready. Just in case.

“This stupid animal,” she muttered, glancing down the trail again. She whistled once, then again, but the only response was the rustle of dry leaves. That horse had always been skittish, but it wasn’t like it to run off this far. Siuan cursed under her breath, tipping her head back in frustration. “Ouch.” 

This was shaping up to be one hell of a day. She hadn’t exactly planned on a hiking trip, but here she was, wandering through the woods and whistling for a runaway horse that probably wouldn’t come back anytime soon. And to top it all off, she didn’t have any game for the gang’s stew pot. 

Siuan let out another sharp whistle, the sound echoing through the wilderness. But again, nothing. No answering whinny, no telltale sound of hooves approaching. 

Her irritation flared into full-on anger, her jaw clenching so tight it hurt. At this point, she reckoned she’d rather serve up that horse for dinner if she ever found it again.

It was only mid-afternoon, but with winter approaching, the days went by fast. Dark fell quickly in these mountains, quicker than Siuan would have liked. The sun was already sinking lower, its light fading behind the trees and leaving her all alone in the deepening shadows of the woods. 

She had been in worse situations, but this wasn’t exactly good either. Stranded with no horse, night falling fast, and the Grizzlies had that name for a good reason. Still, she’d faced tougher odds, wasn’t one to panic easily. She’d handle this, just like she always did. 

After searching for a while, the time had come to make a decision. Siuan wasn’t about to go stumbling through the night, blind and dizzy. Common sense told her to stay put, set up camp, and wait it out until sunrise. By then, she’d be in better shape to figure out her next move. Maybe the horse would show up again, and if not, well, she’d make the long trek back to camp on foot. Either way, wandering aimlessly in the dark was a fool’s errand. 

The cold had already begun creeping in as she started gathering a few sticks to light a small fire. By the time she’d assembled a modest pile of wood, the sky had turned into the indigo color of approaching dusk. She arranged the kindling into a small fire pit, striking a match with fingers that felt clumsier than usual. The flame caught, flickering weakly at first before growing.

The forest seemed to shift with the nightfall, the trees growing darker, their shadows stretching longer. The small fire did little to push back the darkness that began to press in on all sides. Siuan couldn’t fully ignore the uneasy quiet that had settled over her surroundings, a silence that felt too heavy, too watchful.

She sat down by the fire, cradling her rifle in her lap, her body tense and alert. She pulled her jacket tighter around her, wincing as the movement tugged at her sore shoulder. 

The throbbing in her head had dulled to a persistent ache by now. She exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the dizziness that threatened to pull her down. The drowsiness tugged at her, pushing her toward sleep, but she fought it off. Instead, she tossed another branch onto the flames, watching the sparks dance upward. 

Her thoughts drifted back to the huntress once again. She wondered what the woman was doing at this very moment. Probably sitting by her own fire, safe and warm in a secluded cabin somewhere in these woods. 

“Bet she ain’t got bears and wolves to worry about right now,” Siuan murmured, a bit sour. 

As if summoned by her thoughts, a haunting howl suddenly echoed through the trees. Siuan froze, her heart skipping a beat.

Wolves. Close. Too close for comfort. 

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, every instinct screaming at her to be ready. She gripped her rifle tighter, her knuckles white around the stock as she forced herself to her feet, shaking off the dizziness that clung to her like a heavy fog.

“Stay calm,” she whispered to herself. “They might pass by.” 

But as if to mock her hope, another howl pierced the silence, louder this time. Then another, and another. They were hunting. 

Up until now, Siuan had been more annoyed than scared, but that chorus of howls unsettled her in a way she couldn’t deny. Adrenaline surged through her veins, quickening her breath and making her chest tighten with each shallow inhale. Her gaze darted through the forest, searching for movement, for any sign of the pack closing in.

She pressed her back against the nearest tree, just in time to catch sight of the first wolf stepping out from the shadows. It was larger than she expected, much larger.

Instinctively, Siuan raised her rifle, bracing it against her good shoulder. “Easy,” she murmured, finger hovering over the trigger.

The wolf snarled, a low rumble that seemed to vibrate the very air. It crouched, its hungry gaze never leaving her. 

Then, suddenly, it lunged. 

She fired. 

The shot echoed, and the wolf yelped before collapsing mid-stride. But before Siuan could finish the breath she was holding, two more came charging at her from the side.

She managed to fire a second shot, her aim less steady this time, but still enough to strike one in the flank. The animal let out a pained cry, stumbling as it fell back, but the third was already upon her. 

With a snarl, it lunged, its jaws snapping around her leg, teeth tearing through fabric and flesh alike. Pain exploded through her body as the wolf’s weight dragged her down. 

She hit the ground but immediately shoved the rifle between them, using it as a barrier to keep the creature’s teeth from her throat. She fought desperately, kicking, screaming, anything to keep its snapping jaws from closing around her neck. But her strength was waning fast. The earlier injuries, the exhaustion, it was all catching up to her, sapping her energy. Siuan knew she was running out of time. 

Desperation fueled her. She twisted her body, rolling to the side with every ounce of strength she had left. The wolf lost its footing for a split second, just long enough for Siuan to seize the moment. She kicked out hard, striking it in the ribs with a sharp crack. 

The wolf yelped in surprise, stumbling back, but it wasn’t finished. It quickly recovered, circling her, its eyes gleaming with a deadly, predatory hunger.

Siuan scrambled backward, her leg throbbing with pain, blood soaking through the torn fabric of her pants. Her hands fumbled frantically, yanking her hunting knife from her belt. 

“Come on then,” she panted, holding the knife in front of her. Just as the wolf bunched its muscles to leap, a deafening gunshot rang out.

The animal jerked before its body crumpled to the ground with a heavy thud. Siuan stared in shock as the creature lay still, blood pooling beneath it, soaking into the dirt. For a moment, all she could register was the rush of blood in her ears, the pounding of her heart. Her mind struggled to catch up to what had just happened.

Her gaze snapped up, wide and unfocused, searching for the source of the gunshot. A figure stepped into the faint circle of light cast by the fire, a rifle poised confidently in her hands and smoke still curling from the barrel. 

Moiraine.  

Siuan’s breath caught in her throat. It truly was her again. The woman seemed calm and composed, as though she’d merely walked into an ordinary conversation, completely unimpressed by the chaos and bloodshed around them. 

“Are you all right?” She asked, her voice steady and even. 

Siuan could only nod. Words failed her, tangled up in the whirlwind of emotions - relief, confusion, pain - all crashing together inside her. The huntress had come out of nowhere. Again.

Siuan tried to regain her composure, her voice rough as she finally managed to speak. “What in blazes are you doin’ out here?”

Moiraine’s expression remained unreadable, her tone indifferent. “I should ask you that question.” 

Siuan grimaced, her leg screaming in protest as she shifted her weight, trying to stay upright. “Got thrown from my horse. Damn thing spooked at a snake. You just witnessed the rest of the story.” 

Moiraine’s gaze swept over her. Her eyes softened slightly as they fell on the wound at Siuan’s temple, then traveled down to the torn fabric at her leg, where blood was still seeping through the gash left by the wolf’s teeth.

“You’re hurt,” she observed, her voice gentler now. 

“Just a scratch,” Siuan lied. The adrenaline was wearing off fast, and with it, the pain was becoming harder to ignore. Her leg felt like it was on fire, and her head pounded with each beat of her pulse. 

Moiraine wasn’t convinced, furrowed her brow slightly. “You need proper care. My cabin isn’t far from here.” 

Siuan opened her mouth to protest, pride kicking in despite her condition, but the words died on her lips. She gritted her teeth, unwilling to admit just how bad it was. 

“All right,” she conceded, her voice tight with the effort of holding herself together. “I can walk.”

Moiraine raised an eyebrow and chuckled dryly. “Humor me.”

Without waiting for further argument, she wrapped an arm around Siuan’s waist, supporting her weight. Siuan stiffened slightly at the sudden closeness, caught off guard by the warmth of Moiraine’s body against hers, the subtle scent of lavender that clung to her.

“Thanks,” Siuan muttered, the word awkward on her tongue. She wasn’t used to needing help, much less to accepting it.

They made their way through the forest, the path illuminated by the soft glow of the moon that filtered through the trees. The eerie sounds of the night seemed far away now, overshadowed by the quiet thrum of their shared silence.

“How did you find me?” Siuan asked after a while, her voice rough with exhaustion.

“I heard the gunshots,” Moiraine replied simply. “Thought someone might be in trouble.”

“Lucky me,” Siuan muttered, her usual bite softened by weariness.

“Indeed.” Moiraine’s response was as plain as ever.

They reached the cabin sooner than Siuan had expected. It stood nestled among a cluster of evergreens near a creek, smoke curling lazily from the chimney and warm light spilling from the windows. The sight of it sent a wave of relief through her body.

Moiraine guided her toward the door, still supporting her weight as they stepped inside. The cabin’s interior was lived-in and cozy. A fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting dancing figures across the walls. The scent of herbs filled the air.

“Sit here,” Moiraine instructed, guiding Siuan down into a chair. 

She sank into it gratefully, her body sagging with exhaustion. She watched through half-lidded eyes as Moiraine moved around the cabin with purpose, gathering supplies from a nearby cupboard. Moments later, she returned with a bowl of water, clean cloths, and a small jar of salve.

“Let me see your leg,” she said, kneeling beside Siuan. 

Siuan hesitated but allowed Moiraine to examine the wounds. Her touch was careful, unexpectedly tender, as she cleaned away the dirt and blood.

“This might sting,” the huntress warned before applying the salve. 

Siuan hissed at the initial burn but relaxed as a soothing coolness followed. She exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into the chair. “You’ve done this before,” she observed, her voice drowsy, the words slipping out before she could stop them. 

“Yes,” Moiraine replied quietly, her focus still on tending to the wound.

“You a doctor or somethin’?” Siuan asked, her curiosity piqued despite her weariness.

“No.” 

“You always this cryptic, or is that a special treatment just for me?” Siuan snorted softly, though it was only half-hearted, the pull of sleep growing stronger by the second. 

Moiraine didn’t answer. “Don’t close your eyes just yet,” she cautioned instead. “We aren’t done.”

“Ain’t you a bossy little lady,” Siuan teased, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Despite her best efforts to stay awake, she could feel herself slipping, the fire’s warmth lulling her deeper into exhaustion.

Chapter Text

The world seeped back to Siuan in pieces; a faint crackling of fire, a scent of herbs mixed with woodsmoke, and a persistent pain throughout her whole body. She woke slowly, the space around her coming into focus only bit by bit.

Her body felt too heavy, like every movement was a struggle. She forced her eyes open, taking a moment for her vision to adjust and bringing the room into soft focus. This… wasn’t her tent. 

For a disorienting moment, she didn’t know where she was. The ceiling was unfamiliar, the wooden beams rough-hewn and darkened with age. Siuan squinted, trying to make sense of her surroundings and her gaze caught on something hanging above her. 

A… dreamcatcher?  

It wasn’t like the ones she’d seen in shops or hanging from the saddles of traveling merchants. Instead of feathers and threads, this one was made from bones and small antlers, woven together with thin strands of leather and ribbons in different shades of blue. It dangled above her, spinning lazily in the warm air, and for a second, Siuan forgot her pain, mesmerized by the peculiar object.

She tried to shift, to sit up, but her body protested. A sharp sting in her leg brought back the memory of the previous night in clear detail. The wolves, the attack, and the huntress. 

Instinctively, she reached toward her leg, only to find her wrist restrained. She tugged lightly, the realization dawning as she felt the rough fibers of a rope binding her to the bedpost.

“What in hell…,” she muttered, her voice a hoarse whisper. 

Siuan’s mind scrambled for answers. Why was she tied up? Was that who Moiraine really was? Just another psychopath hiding out in the woods? Kidnapping people and doing god knows what with them? Hell, Siuan would give her a fight before she went down.

Her heart began to race, each beat echoing loudly in her ears. Panic and anger tangled together, tightening in her throat as she tugged harder. The bed creaked under the force of her efforts but the knots didn’t give. The ropes were secure, expertly knotted. 

She scanned the room for any sign of her captor, when suddenly the door swung open with a quiet creak. Siuan’s gaze darted toward the source, muscles tensing despite her exhaustion. 

Moiraine stepped into the room, carrying a bowl of water in her hands, her expression as calm as ever. She looked completely unbothered by the sight of Siuan thrashing against the restraints, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. For a moment, the two women just stared at each other, the tension in the room thick and heavy.

“You’re awake,” Moiraine observed, walking slowly toward the bed as if she had all the time in the universe.

“Damn right, I’m awake,” Siuan retorted, her voice roughened by dryness and irritation. “Mind tellin’ me why the hell I’m tied up? What kind of game are you playing?”

The huntress didn’t answer immediately. She set the bowl down on a small table by the bed with a quiet clink. When she finally spoke, her voice was measured, but there was an edge of authority in it that brought Siuan’s blood to a boil. 

“For your own safety,” she said simply. “And mine.”

Siuan’s eyes narrowed, disbelief and anger flaring. “So you save my life just to truss me up like a hog? You got a twisted sense of hospitality, lady!” 

Moiraine’s expression didn’t change. She stood there, stoic and composed, her eyes never leaving Siuan’s. 

“You got feverish,” she began to explain. “Delirious. You fought me when I tried to tend to your wounds. I couldn’t risk you hurting yourself - or me. That’s why you’re tied up.”

Siuan opened her mouth to argue but paused. Memories drifted back in disjointed fragments, blurred images of a pretty face hovering above her, her own hands pushing away help. She grimaced, her indignation losing some of its edge. She realized she could see Moiraine’s point. If their situations were reversed, she would’ve done the same thing.

“Could’ve just sat on me,” she muttered, a touch petulant.

Moiraine’s lips quirked ever so slightly, the closest she’d come to a smile. “Somehow, I don’t think that would have been effective.”

Siuan grumbled under her breath, tugging at the ropes once more, less forcefully this time. “Alright, point taken. You untyin’ me now? Promise I won’t bite.” 

The other woman hesitated, her gaze assessing her patient carefully. After a moment, she nodded, stepping closer. Siuan noticed it right away again, the subtle scent of lavender that clung to Moiraine as she leaned over to undo the knots. 

“You always tie up folks you save?” Siuan asked, her voice softer this time. 

“Yes, unfailingly,” Moiraine replied without hesitation, though the hint of dry humor suggested she was joking. 

Siuan let out a rough laugh. “Well, that’s reassurin’.“  

Moiraine said nothing but her lips twitched ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. 

The tension between them shifted, but it didn’t vanish. If anything, it felt more charged, more complicated. This wasn’t the usual kind of tension Siuan was used to. This wasn’t about dominance or control, wasn’t about who could draw their gun faster. It was something else entirely, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Once the ropes were untied, Moiraine stepped back, giving Siuan space. She flexed her wrists, rubbing at the faint marks left by the bindings.

“So, what now?” Siuan leaned back, trying to ignore the persistent ache in her leg. “You gonna nurse me back to health, and I just wait here, twiddlin’ my thumbs ’til I can walk again?” She tried to inject some levity into her tone, but Moiraine seemed to take the question seriously.

“You may stay until you’re well enough to leave,” Moiraine replied. “Or until your companions come looking for you.”

Siuan gave her a skeptical look, her brow furrowed. There was something about this woman that set off a faint alarm in the back of her mind. She wasn’t just a simple huntress, Siuan was so sure about that. Staying here at the cabin would probably not be the best decision. 

“Time isn’t exactly a luxury I have. Can’t lay about forever,” Siuan grumbled. “Got responsibilities. Need to find my horse.”

“Your horse is outside,” Moiraine offered. “She returned not long after I brought you here. I found her wandering nearby this morning.”

Siuan snorted and rolled her eyes. “Figures she’d find her way back after leavin’ me high and dry.”

“She’s a fine animal,” Moiraine said with obvious admiration. 

“She’s a damn nuisance, is what she is,” Siuan retorted, though her words lacked any real bite.

“Your mare has a fondness for you,” the huntress observed quietly. “She came back, after all. That kind of loyalty is rare. You don’t find it in people.”

“Suppose that’s one way to look at it.” Siuan paused, then sighed. “Look, I appreciate what you’ve done. But I should be on my way.”

“You’re in no condition to travel.” 

“I’m tougher than I look.” 

“Stubbornness isn’t the same as strength,” Moiraine said evenly. “Stay until you’re healed.”

Siuan looked at her for a long moment, weighing the offer. Truth was, the idea of trekking through the wilderness, wounded and alone, truly didn’t sound like a good time. Her pride told her to push through, keep moving like she always had, but there was something in Moiraine’s steady gaze that made her reconsider. Maybe, just this once, she could let herself stay, let herself be vulnerable. 

“Well… guess I should be thankin’ you again in that case,” she said after a while, accepting the offer. 

Moiraine didn’t smile, but there was a subtle softening around her eyes, barely noticeable but definitely there. “There’s no need to thank me. I did what anyone might have done.”

Siuan laughed dryly. “You sure about that? Most folks would’ve let the wolves have their meal and leave me there to fend for myself.” 

“You weren’t really in any state to fend for yourself,” Moiraine replied matter-of-factly, “and I’m not like most folks.” 

“Yeah,” Siuan muttered, a hint of amusement tugging at her lips. “I’ve gathered that much. You’re a strange one.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer before Moiraine broke the connection. Without a word, she picked up the bowl of water she’d brought earlier, dampening a clean cloth. 

“Here,” she said, handing it to Siuan. “You can wash your face. I’ll bring you something to eat and drink.” 

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving Siuan alone with her thoughts. As the door clicked shut, she stared up at the dreamcatcher again, her fingers brushing the cool, damp cloth against her face. 

The cabin was quiet, except for the crackling of the fire and the occasional shuffle of wood settling in the hearth. It was a kind of silence that should’ve felt uneasy, foreign, but instead, it was… soothing. She shifted a bit, adjusting herself more comfortably against the pillows propping her up. The ache in her leg was still there, a dull reminder of how close she’d come to being wolf food, but the warmth of the cabin and the strange sense of safety dulled the pain just fine.

It wasn’t long before the huntress returned, carrying a tray with a simple meal; bread, dried strips of meat, and a steaming mug of something that smelled earthy and strong.

“Here,” Moiraine said as she placed the tray down and picked up the cup, extending it toward Siuan. “Drink this first.”

Siuan eyed it warily. “What’s in it?”

Moiraine met her gaze, the faintest glimmer of exasperation in her eyes, but her voice remained patient. “Herbs,” she said plainly. “To prevent infection.”

Still, Siuan hesitated, eyeing the cup as if it might bite her. The other woman sighed softly, bringing the cup to her own lips and taking a small, deliberate sip before extending it to Siuan once more.

“I’m not poisoning you.”

“Well,” Siuan drawled with a crooked grin, “after tyin’ me up, can’t exactly blame a girl for bein’ cautious.”

She then took the cup, her fingers brushing lightly against Moiraine’s in the process. The contact was brief, innocent even, but it sent an unexpected shiver down Siuan’s spine. She wrapped her hands around the warm ceramic, taking a moment to steady herself, but her gaze kept flicking toward the huntress as she sat down on a nearby chair. 

The firelight danced across her face, casting soft shadows over her features. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, and Siuan’s eyes lingered a moment too long on the curve of her jaw, the delicate line of her lips.

She blinked, forcing herself to break the spell and drag her thoughts somewhere else. “Nice place you got here,” she said, her voice a little rougher than usual as she fumbled for small talk, trying to stop her mind from wandering too far.

“Thank you,” Moiraine replied. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

Siuan nodded, glancing around the cabin again, her eyes falling on the neatly stacked logs by the fireplace and the bundles of drying herbs hanging from the rafters. “You seem well-prepared for the winter,” she noted, her voice more composed this time.

Moiraine followed her eyes and nodded. “One has to be. The mountains are not forgiving to the unprepared.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Siuan agreed, taking a tentative sip of the tea. The aroma was earthy, a little strong, but strangely comforting. The blend of herbs had a soothing effect, though she couldn’t quite place the taste. “How long have you been out here?”

Moiraine’s answer came quickly. “A long time.”

Siuan raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the vagueness. Clearly, there was more to that woman than what met the eye. Siuan had spent enough time reading people to know when someone was holding back, and Moiraine seemed like a whole vault of secrets. 

She took another sip of the tea, her mind racing with questions she wasn’t sure she should ask. “You’ve never thought about leavin’? Not even once?”

Moiraine hesitated, her fingers tightening almost imperceptibly on the arm of her chair. “I’ve been to town before. Whenever necessary.”

Siuan didn’t miss that pause, brief as it was, and it made her want to push, to ask more, to unravel whatever the woman was holding back. But she kept her voice even, casual. “What about family? They nearby?”

For a moment, a shadow crossed the huntress’ face, so fleeting that Siuan almost doubted she’d seen it. “My parents passed away some time ago,” she said quietly. 

Siuan’s chest tightened. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

Moiraine’s rigid posture didn’t change, but her composure returned to her face, as though she was pulling her mask back into place. “It’s alright. It’s been some years.”

Siuan nodded slowly, relating to the feeling of loosing family. She knew that kind of hurt, the ache that never quite went away. “Doesn’t it get lonely? All this space and quiet… it’d drive most folks crazy.”

“I value my privacy,” Moiraine replied simply. “And I prefer solitude. There’s a certain peace in it.”

“That so, huh?” Siuan mused, her gaze drifting back to the fire as she tried to imagine a life like that; choosing to be alone. “Guess that’s one way to look at it. But why? You could be livin’ in town, around people. Share that peace with someone.”

“Sometimes solitude is a choice rather than a circumstance.”

Siuan considered this statement, thoughtfully setting her cup down on the bedside table. “Can’t say I know many who’d choose it, though. Most fellows I know prefer company. Safety in numbers and all that.”

“I simply don’t belong there.” 

Siuan frowned at that. “What d’you mean by that? ‘Don’t belong’… hell, you seem like someone who could belong wherever they damn well please.” 

“It’s not that simple,” the huntress replied, her tone cool but layered with something that Siuan couldn’t quite put her finger on. It seemed like a lifetime of something was buried in that one sentence.

Somehow, the longer their conversation went on, the more questions piled up in Siuan’s mind. Moiraine’s answers were like pieces to a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together, but the more she talked, the more intriguing it became. There was something strange about that woman, no doubt about it, but it wasn’t a discomforting kind of strange. If anything, it made Siuan want to understand her more, to peel back all the layers and get to the heart of who Moiraine really was.

And then, almost without meaning to, her thoughts wandered to the faded wanted poster buried in her satchel, the one with the missing princess, with those eyes that somehow mirrored Moiraine’s. “Could it be…?”

The idea seemed as absurd as ever. Why would someone with royal blood abandon a life of privilege for solitude in the wilderness? But yet, curiosity always got the better of her, urging her to ask more questions. Moiraine wasn’t giving much away, but as long as she was willing to talk, Siuan wasn’t about to stop digging.

“You know,” Siuan began, leaning into her curiosity, deciding to be bold. “I’ve been thinkin’ about you.”

“Oh?” Moiraine’s voice was calm, neutral as ever, but there was a flicker of curiosity there, hidden behind the usual restraint.

“Yeah,” Siuan continued, tryin’ to keep her tone casual. “Found somethin’ a while back. A wanted poster for a missin’ girl. A princess.” She watched closely, searching for any reaction, but all she caught was the faintest tightening around Moiraine’s lips.

“That’s a common tale,” the huntress replied evenly, her tone as steady as stone. “Many have searched for her over the years.”

“True,” Siuan conceded with a slow nod. “But, you know… couldn’t help but notice a little resemblance. Somethin’ ’bout the eyes.” She gestured lightly around her own face, trying to keep the mood light but knowing she was probably treading into private territory.

Moiraine met her gaze steadily, her eyebrows raising ever so slightly. “Are you suggesting I’m her?”

Siuan shrugged casually, though her pulse quickened. “Just thinkin’ aloud. Secrets have a way of makin’ people more interested.” 

Moiraine’s lips twitched. “Is that what you are? Interested?” There was a glint of amusement in her eyes, but it was layered with something else, something sharper, more guarded.

Siuan felt a flush creep up her neck. “Just makin’ conversation.”

“Of course.” Moiraine’s tone was smooth, but the subtle tension in her expression didn’t escape Siuan’s notice. She was good at hiding things, but not perfect. And all that… well, that was interesting.

A moment of silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of things left unsaid. Siuan tried not to stare, tried to pull her focus away, but her attention kept drifting back to Moiraine, no matter how hard she resisted. There was just something about her that drew Siuan in, even when she knew she shouldn’t linger. The huntress had a strength about her, sure, but there was also a kind of fragility, like she’d been forged in fire and steel but might shatter under the wrong weight.

Clearing her throat, Siuan searched for a way to change the topic. “So, uh, what’s with that thing?” she asked curiously, nodding toward the strange bone-and-antler creation hanging above the bed.

Moiraine’s gaze softened as she looked up at it. “It’s a protection charm,” she explained, her voice quieter, more thoughtful. “Meant to keep nightmares away.”

“Made of animal bones?” Siuan raised an eyebrow, her skepticism clear in the half-smirk playing at her lips.

“It’s not about the materials,” Moiraine replied. “It’s the intention behind it.”

Siuan’s smirk widened. “You make it?”

“No,” Moiraine said softly, a flicker of nostalgia in her voice. “My mother did.”

That caught Siuan off guard. The tenderness in Moiraine’s voice when she mentioned her mother. Siuan’s eyes flicked back to the charm. “And is it workin’?

The other woman’s gaze stayed on the charm for a moment longer before meeting Siuan’s eyes. “It is.”

A moment passed before Siuan shook her head, a small grin tugging at her lips. “Lady, I don’t get you,” she murmured. “You’re out here with lil’ bone charms, savin’ strangers, and talkin’ ‘bout peace like it’s somethin’ you’ve actually found. What kind of person are you?”

The huntress turned to look at her, her blue eyes reflecting the flicker of the firelight, deep and unreadable. “A strange one,” she replied quietly. “But I think you’ve already said that.”

“Was no offense meant,” Siuan said quickly, scratching the back of her head, feeling a little sheepish. “Didn’t mean it like that… I’ve seen stranger.”

“No offense taken,” Moiraine replied with a small smile that felt like a new feature to her face. It tugged at something deep inside Siuan, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

They then sat there in the flickering firelight, the silence between them feeling far more comfortable than it had any right to be. It wasn’t the awkward kind that usually filled the space between strangers. This felt different, like the quiet between two people who had known each other for years, even if they hadn’t.

Chapter Text

Two days had dragged by, each one bringing a bit more strength back into Siuan's bones. Her wounds were healing, the bandages on her leg snug but less oppressive than before. Whatever Moiraine was mixing up in those teas and salves of hers, it was working wonders.

The worst of the pain had dwindled down to a dull throb. She could stand, even take a few shaky steps on her own. Not that it mattered much, though. Every time she tried, Moiraine was on her like a hawk spotting a field mouse. She’d give Siuan that sharp look, like she was the most stubborn fool alive, and order her to sit her ass back down.

Sitting still and doing nothing had never been Siuan’s strong suit. She was used to be moving, always on the go, whether it was working, hunting, keeping the gang together, or at least keeping herself together. But now, stuck in this tiny cabin, she felt caged. Restless didn’t even begin to cover it.

And it sure as hell didn’t help that every time she looked up, Moiraine was there. The woman was… distracting, to say the least. 

The huntress had a way to move around the place like she was floating. Siuan didn’t know how else to describe it. She herself had always been loud in her movements and rough around the edges, even when she didn’t mean to be. But Moiraine was the opposite. Every little thing she did, whether it was stirring her strange brews or tending to the fire, was exact, calculated, and quiet. Like she’d done it a thousand times before, and still gave it all her focus.

Siuan tried not to watch her, she really did, but the problem was there wasn’t much else in the cabin to look at. The place wasn’t big enough to hold much more than the two of them, and every time Moiraine moved or spoke, her presence filled the entire room. It didn’t seem intentional, at least Siuan didn’t think so, but it made it nearly impossible not to notice her. 

She kept telling herself not to follow Moiraine’s every movement, but somehow, her eyes always drifted back. Maybe it was that nagging suspicion she still couldn’t shake, that this composed, mysterious woman might have something to do with the missing princess after all. The pieces still didn’t quite add up, but Siuan had learned to trust her gut on things like this.

But maybe it was something else entirely, something that had nothing to do with wanted posters and bounties, and everything to do with the strange pull she felt every time they were in the same room.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have let a mystery like this hang over her head for long. Siuan was the type to confront things head-on. She’d have cornered Moiraine by now, no beating around the bush. Polite was never her style anyway. She’d demand the truth, plain and simple. And if she didn’t get it, well, there were other ways to get answers. 

Hell, two days ago, she might’ve hogtied Moiraine, thrown her over her horse, and rode straight to the nearest sheriff’s office. Let them sort out whether or not the thousand bucks was hers. Quick, clean, and done with.

But things weren’t normal anymore. 

For one, Moiraine had saved her life. Hard to be rough with someone after that. The thought of pulling a gun on her now, of dragging her off against her will… it made Siuan’s stomach twist into knots. Sure, she’d done plenty of things she wasn’t proud of, but even she had principles. And whether she liked it or not, she owed Moiraine.

And then there was the simple fact that she wasn’t in any shape to pick a fight. Injured as she was, the huntress could probably outdraw her with that rifle before she even had time to think. Siuan wasn’t keen on testing that theory.

The worst part was that two days ago, none of this would’ve mattered. Two days ago, she wouldn’t have hesitated. If her hunch was right, the payday would’ve been too sweet to ignore. But now everything felt… complicated. The lines were getting blurred, and Siuan hated it. She wasn’t one to get soft, especially not over someone she barely knew. 

And yet, here she was, sitting in this damn cabin, torn between her gang duties, money, and something she couldn’t quite name. Gratitude? Maybe. Curiosity? Definitely.

She let out a heavy sigh before she even realized it. Moiraine glanced over, one of those elegant eyebrows arching in that quiet, inquisitive way of hers. But she didn’t pry, never did. Just gave Siuan that calm look, then went back to grinding some dried leaves at the small table. 

Siuan couldn’t help but watch for a second longer than she should’ve. The woman knew her way around plants, that much was clear. She herself, on the other hand, could barely tell a weed from a wildflower unless it was tobacco - and even then, her interest lay more in rolling it than growing it. Her idea of medicine was a stiff drink and a good night’s sleep. She figured Moiraine would just roll her eyes at that notion.

“You’re healing well,” the huntress remarked after a while, pulling Siuan out of her own head.

“Yeah, sure, reckon I’ll be back on my feet in no time,” Siuan muttered, though she couldn’t quite keep the edge of impatience out of her voice. She wiggled her toes, testing her leg, watching the muscle shift under the dull ache.

“Don’t be so hasty,” Moiraine’s tone was even, calm, but there was something in those blue eyes that made Siuan pause. She blinked, a little taken off guard by how easily the woman seemed to read her.

“Never been one for sittin’ still, y’know,” she grumbled, her gaze shifting to the window. The forest beyond looked like freedom itself, stretching out in every direction, tempting her to just get up and go. “Got too much livin’ to do out there.”

“Living,” Moiraine mused, “or just running from one place to the next?”

The question hit closer to home than Siuan cared to admit. She forced a shrug, trying to keep it casual. “Ain’t we all runnin’ from somethin’?”

“Perhaps,” Moiraine replied, steady as ever, like they were just chatting about the weather. “But it’s a dangerous life you lead. You’ll need your strength if you’re going back out there.”

Siuan nodded slowly, not wanting to dwell on the truth of those words. Her mind drifted back to camp, to the boys who hadn’t even bothered to come looking for her. Two days out here, and they hadn’t sent so much as a scout to check if she was alive or rotting in some ditch. The thought made her blood simmer a little. They’d sure as hell hear about it when she got back.

Silence settled between them, the kind that had become the norm in the small cabin, though Siuan was never quite used to it. She watched as Moiraine stood and reached for a glass jar on the highest shelf to store the crushed leaves.

As she stretched, her blouse lifted just a fraction, revealing a sliver of pale skin at her waist. It was nothing, barely a glimpse, but enough to snare Siuan’s attention. Her eyes traced the soft curve of the woman’s side, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered how that skin might feel under her fingertips.

Then, as if sensing Siuan's gaze, Moiraine glanced over her shoulder, casually tugging her blouse back into place. Their eyes met, and Siuan felt the heat rise in her cheeks, suddenly all too aware of the direction her thoughts were headed. She looked away quickly, fussing with the pillows beneath her leg like they needed urgent attention.

Moiraine didn’t say a word, but out of the corner of her eye, Siuan thought she saw the faintest hint of amusement on the huntress’s face before she turned back to her work. Meanwhile, Siuan sat there, mentally cursing herself to hell and back. What was she thinking? She had no business letting her thoughts wander off in that direction.

“I’m going out for a while,” Moiraine said suddenly, finishing her task and grabbing her blue coat from the back of the chair.

Siuan raised an eyebrow, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Where you goin’?”

“I'll return soon,” came Moiraine’s smooth reply, slipping around the question like she always did.

“Alright then,” Siuan mumbled, trying to sound indifferent. What was that woman up to this time?

She watched as Moiraine stepped outside, her figure disappearing into the fading twilight. Siuan let out a long breath, her fingers absently tracing the edges of the bandage on her leg. She told herself to get a grip, to think about anything other than Moiraine, but that was easier said than done.

Restlessness gnawed at her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, testing her weight. A sharp pain shot through her body, but she gritted her teeth and pushed herself up anyway. Using the wall for support, she hobbled over to the window. She hated to admit it, but Little Miss Doctor was right, resting was probably the smarter option.

But curiosity was a hell of a thing. Before she knew it, she was peering out the window, squinting to see where the huntress had wandered off to. Through the swaying branches, she caught a glimpse of movement near the creek, just beyond the cabin. Siuan’s breath hitched in her throat as her eyes caught what was happening.

Moiraine was undressing to bathe. 

Siuan watched, rooted to the spot, as the huntress slipped off her coat and draped it over a low-hanging branch. Then her fingers moved to the buttons of her blouse, unfastening them with deliberate, unhurried ease. The fabric slid from her shoulders, revealing the lean strength of her back, the smooth curve of her neck, and the gentle slope of her breasts.

Siuan knew she should look away, give the woman her privacy, but she was transfixed. It wasn’t just the sight that held her there - it was the way Moiraine moved, like she belonged out there under the open sky, half-wild and untouchable.

This was wrong. 

The realization hit Siuan like a bucket of ice water. She yanked herself away from the window, heart racing, cheeks burning with shame and something she couldn’t quite name.

Guilt gnawed at her as she limped back to the bed, her thoughts a tangled mess. She sank onto the mattress, running a shaky hand over her face, but the image of Moiraine lingered, vivid as ever. 

She shouldn’t have seen that, shouldn’t have let herself get so caught up in it. But even as she sat there, her face practically on fire, the image wouldn’t leave her. It wasn’t that she’d never seen a woman undress before - but she had seen Moiraine. And somehow, that made it different.

Siuan squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to shove the feeling down. “She’s just another person,” she muttered to herself, trying to make it sound convincing. “You’re just starved for company. That’s all it is.”

But she knew better. Moiraine wasn’t just any other person. She was something more. A mystery. A puzzle. And worse, she was unraveling everything Siuan thought she had figured out about herself.

The soft creak of the door pulled her from her thoughts, making her jump. Moiraine stepped back inside, her hair still pulled back neatly, though a few damp strands clung to the nape of her neck. Siuan hadn’t seen her like this before, and damn if she didn’t look even more striking. The cold water from the creek had flushed her cheeks pinker, her face sharper, those high cheekbones somehow even more prominent.

“As if she needs to be any more beautiful,” Siuan thought bitterly, immediately scolding herself for the thought. “Stop it!”

The huntress glanced over, her gaze meeting Siuan’s for a brief moment. Was that a hint of a smile? Or was she just imagining it? Siuan quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her bandages to keep from staring. 

“Is everything alright with your bandages?” Moiraine asked, hanging her coat by the door.

“Yeah, fine! Just fine,” Siuan blurted out, fingers twitching as she tugged at the fabric. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’ve been fussing with them a lot today,” Moiraine noted gently. 

“Oh, do I? Nah, it’s fine… y’know, they just itch somethin’ fierce from time to time,” Siuan mumbled, scratching at her leg for emphasis.

“Perhaps I can adjust them for you,” Moiraine offered, stepping closer. 

“No!” The word shot out of Siuan’s mouth before she could stop it. She cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up. “I mean, no need. I’ve got it handled.” 

The huntress paused, her brows drawing together ever so slightly. “Very well,” she said, retreating a step. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

An awkward silence settled over the room, thick enough to choke on. Moiraine moved to the hearth, stirring the embers to coax the fire back to life. Siuan could feel the weight of something unsaid hanging between them, but she was too tangled up in her own embarrassment to reach for it.

She shifted uncomfortably, the quiet pressing in on her. “Did you… uh… have a good time outside?” she asked, her voice a little too high.

Moiraine glanced back at her. “It was refreshing,” she replied. “The air is quite crisp.”

“That’s… that’s good,” Siuan nodded, probably more than she needed to. “Crisp air does wonders, clears the head and all that.”

“Indeed…,” Moiraine agreed, though her gaze lingered on Siuan a moment longer before she turned back to the fire. 

Siuan cursed inwardly. She was babbling like an idiot. Why couldn’t she just act normal? She’d faced down lawmen, bounty hunters, men with guns aimed straight at her head, and yet here she was, tripping over her own damn words like a fool.

“Would you like some tea?” Moiraine offered after a moment.

“Tea? Sure, tea sounds great,” Siuan blurted out, way too eager for someone who hadn’t been too excited for tea time for the past two days. She winced at her own enthusiasm, trying to dial it back. “Yeah… tea’s alright.”

Moiraine nodded and began preparing the tea, her movements smooth and unhurried, like everything else she did. Siuan watched her from the corner of her eye, trying to appear casual but failing miserably. 

“So… you, uh, you like tea, yeah?” Siuan asked, immediately wanting to slap herself. “Real smooth, Sanche.” 

Moiraine paused, casting a quizzical glance over her shoulder. “I do,” she said slowly, as if trying to understand where this sudden line of questioning had come from. “It’s calming.”

“Right, calmin’. That’s good,” Siuan mumbled, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve. “I like… things that are calmin’.”

“Do you?” Moiraine’s lips twitched ever so slightly, though it was hard to tell if she was amused or just being polite.

“Sure,” Siuan shrugged, trying to play it cool but not quite pulling it off. “Well, sometimes. When I’m not, y’know, out and about.” She mentally kicked herself. This was painful. She needed to pull herself together.

“Understandable,” Moiraine replied, turning back to pour hot water into two cups before handing one to Siuan. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thanks,” Siuan muttered, clutching the cup like it was a lifeline. She stared down into the steaming liquid, avoiding the other woman’s eyes as if they held some kind of power over her.

For a few moments, silence filled the cabin again, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the quiet clink of ceramic as they sipped their tea. Siuan could feel the tension gnawing at her, but she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Then, out of nowhere, Moiraine spoke. “Did something happen while I was out?”

Siuan nearly choked on her tea. “What? No! Why’d you ask?”

“You just seem… different.”

“Different? Nah, must be your imagination,” Siuan said quickly. She rubbed the back of her neck, a nervous habit she couldn’t quite shake. “Same ol’ me.”

Moiraine studied her for a long moment, her expression giving nothing away, but she didn’t press the issue. “If you say so.”

The silence that followed was heavier than before. Siuan hated how her eyes kept drifting back to the huntress, hated that the memory of what she’d seen outside wouldn’t leave her alone. Every time she glanced at Moiraine, it was like that image was burned into her mind, making her pulse quicken all over again.

That night, sleep refused to come. Siuan lay on her back, staring up at the flickering shadows cast by the firelight, her mind tangled in knots. No matter how much she tossed and turned, she couldn’t shake it, couldn’t escape the confusion, the fascination, the attraction. By the time the first light of dawn filtered through the window, she’d made up her mind.

She had to leave.

She needed to get out of here. She needed distance, space. Something to bury whatever feelings had started to rise up, like she always did when things got too close, too overwhelming. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way about a woman, but it was the first time since…

Since her.

The memory hit like a punch straight to her stomach, a wave of loss and pain so sharp it nearly took her breath away. She’d let herself get close once before, let herself care too much, and it had almost destroyed her. No, she wasn’t making that mistake again. Not now. Not ever.

No. She had to go. 

Siuan swung her legs over the side of the bed, wincing as her weight pressed down on her injured leg. The sharp pain flared, but it wasn’t enough to stop her. She could ride, and that’s all that mattered.

She gathered her things quietly, every movement feeling heavier than it should; her jacket, her rifle, the small satchel of belongings she’d had with her when she first showed up at the cabin.

Moiraine was apparently still asleep in the next room, which made it easier. She didn’t want to face her, didn’t want to have to explain. This way, it would be simple and over before it got more complicated.

But as she stood by the door, hand resting on the rough wood, she hesitated. For a split second, she considered leaving a note. Just a quick goodbye. Something to let Moiraine know she was grateful, that it wasn’t her fault. But what would she even say? “Thanks for saving me, but I’m leaving ‘cause you confuse the hell outta me?”

No. That wasn’t something she could explain, not even to herself.

Pushing the door open, she stepped outside. The cold morning air bit at her face as she made her way to the small clearing where her horse was tied. The animal greeted her with a soft nicker, its breath misting in the crisp air.

Just as Siuan reached for the reins, footsteps crunched softly on the frosted ground behind her. She froze. “Dammit.” She should have known the huntress wouldn’t let her slip away that easily.

“Leaving without a farewell?” Moiraine asked quietly, though it wasn’t really a question. There was an edge to her tone, something Siuan couldn’t quite pin down.

Slowly, Siuan turned to face her. She stood just a few paces away, wrapped in a blanket, her hair tousled from sleep. Her blue eyes were calm but searching, like she was waiting for an answer Siuan didn’t have.

“Ain’t exactly good at goodbyes,” Siuan muttered, trying to be nonchalant, though her voice felt thin and hollow. “Figured it’s best I get goin’.” 

Moiraine didn’t move, didn’t so much as blink. Just held her gaze in that steady, unflinching way that always made Siuan feel like she was being seen right through. “Your wounds aren’t healed yet.”

“I’ll manage,” Siuan replied, trying to play it down. “Been through worse.”

For a long moment, Moiraine said nothing. She just stood there, her eyes fixed on Siuan, like she was trying to figure something out. Finally, her voice cut through the cold air. “You don’t have to go yet.” 

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a plea. It was just… a fact. A quiet offer. Like Moiraine was laying the choice in front of her, letting her decide. No pressure. No expectations.

Siuan swallowed, her chest tight. “Reckon it’s time, ” she said, trying to sound sure of herself. “But… thanks. For everything.”

Moiraine’s lips curved ever so slightly, a flicker of a smile that was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “You already thanked me.”

“Well, I’m doin’ it again,” Siuan said, her own lips quirking despite herself. “Could’ve been wolf chow if you hadn’t shown up.”

The huntress gave a small nod. “Safe travels, Siuan.”

The way Moiraine said her name - soft, almost tender - sent something twisting deep in Siuan’s gut. It tugged at her, made her want to stay, to let herself fall into whatever this was, to spill everything; her suspicions about Moiraine’s true identity, her fear of getting too close, her reason for walking away. But she knew better. She’d learned long ago that getting close was dangerous, that leaving was safer.

“Take care, Moiraine,” she mumbled, her voice thick with everything she wasn’t saying. 

She turned back to her horse, swinging herself into the saddle with a wince as pain shot through her leg. Her body protested, but her mind was already focused on the path ahead. Without another glance back, she nudged her horse forward, disappearing into the trees.

* 

“Where the hell’ve you been for three days?” Gareth barked the moment Siuan rode into camp.

She dismounted, trying to mask the limp in her stride. “Ran into some trouble,” she said flatly, already irritated by the tone of her welcome. “Wolves got the jump on me up in the Grizzlies.”

The boss eyed her skeptically, his gaze landing on the bandage peeking out from under her ripped pants. “Wolves, huh? And you just walked away?”

“Had help,” Siuan admitted, though it grated on her to say it.

“Oh yeah?” Gareth crossed his arms. “From who?”

Siuan hesitated, something instinctively telling her not to mention Moiraine. It didn’t sit right, talking about her. Twice now, she’d crossed paths with the huntress in that vast, empty wilderness, and that was odd enough without stirring up questions. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, Siuan felt the need to keep their second encounter to herself, like a secret no one else should know.

“An old hermit,” she lied smoothly. “Living off the grid. Didn’t care much for company, but he patched me up.” 

Gareth studied her, his eyes probing like he knew there was more to the story. Siuan held his gaze, not blinking, her expression hard.

Finally, he gave a grunt and nodded. “Well, you’re back now. We’ve got work to do.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder, right where she’d taken the hard fall three days ago, and she had to grit her teeth to keep from wincing.

“Come on, then,” the boss said, gesturing for her to follow. “No rest for the wicked. We’ve got a job tonight.”

Siuan fell into step beside him, ignoring the throbbing in her leg and the dull burn in her shoulder. “What’s the target?” she asked, keeping her voice steady, already slipping back into the rhythm of the life she’d chosen.

Gareth’s eyes gleamed with excitement, that familiar spark of greed lighting up his face. “Oh, you’re gonna love this. Train’s rolling through Cumberland Forest tonight… loaded with one hundred and fifty bottles of pirate rum. Worth a fortune if we get it to the right folks.”

Siuan forced a grin, though her heart wasn’t in it. “Sounds like a party.” 

“Damn right!” Gareth laughed, slapping her on the back again. “Keep walking with me. I’ll fill you in on the details.”

As he outlined the plan, Siuan found herself nodding along, letting the familiar pull of adrenaline and danger sink back into her bones. This was the life she knew; clear objectives, quick rewards, no room for hesitation. It was simple. It was survival. 

And yet, beneath it all, something felt off. She could almost hear Moiraine’s calm voice in the back of her mind, telling her to take it easy, to slow down. The irony wasn’t lost on her, how quickly that woman had found a way to live in her head, whispering caution into the very life Siuan had embraced.

Chapter Text

Saint Denis always felt like it had a life of its own, a living thing with too many limbs moving all at once. The streets pulsed with an energy that got into your bones and made your chest feel tight if you let it. Too many people, too much noise. Siuan hadn’t set foot in the city for weeks, and now, stepping back into that chaos felt like getting hit with a wave she hadn’t seen coming.

Vendors hollered over one another, selling everything from questionable tonics to spices that could set a man’s tongue on fire. Street preachers railed about sin and salvation from atop their makeshift pulpits, while hustlers slipped through the crowds like shadows, eyeing pockets heavier than their own. 

On a normal day, she might’ve let the city’s rhythm take her along for the ride. Blend in with all the movement, get lost in the noise until she was just another face in the crowd. But today, everything felt off, like a tune played just slightly out of key. 

She guided her horse down the bustling streets, focusing on the job that had brought her here. Gareth had been pushing the gang harder lately, chasing after bigger scores, more money, riskier jobs. Siuan didn’t like the direction things were heading. The gang was sitting pretty, no law on their heels, pockets lined decently well, but still, the boss acted like they were one bad day away from ruin. Always pushing for more, always faster.

She shook her head. It wasn’t just her getting worn thin by it all, either. The others were feeling it too. Tension coiled tight every time they talked about the next job. She had already wanted to say something, but what good would it do? 

Gareth had dragged her out of nothing after her father had died, when all she had left were pockets full of dust and choices worse than the day before. She owed him, that was the long and short of it. So, Siuan kept her mouth shut, played the hand she was dealt, and stuck to what she knew best: fishing.

She’d spent the past few days waist-deep in the swamps of Lagras, wrestling with gators and pulling in sturgeons big enough to make seasoned fishermen weep. That special lure her pa had taught her to make still worked like a charm, and now her saddlebags were heavy with goods that’d fetch a fine price here in Saint Denis. Enough to keep the boss off her back for a bit and maybe leave a little extra in her own pocket. 

Now, all that was left was offloading her haul and getting her hands on some cash. That city was the perfect place for it. People here had more money than sense and were willing to shell out for anything that looked a little dangerous or exotic. A small gator hide could fetch more than three perfect wolf pelts back in Valentine. 

One quick stop at the trapper, and Siuan would have the rest of the afternoon to herself. Her mind wandered to the idea of a proper meal, maybe a game of poker, and a whiskey that didn’t taste like kerosene.

As she neared the market, she swung off her horse and tied the reins loosely to a post. Weaving through the thick crowd with practiced ease, she made her way toward the trapper’s stall. Her thoughts were already on haggling the best price, but then something caught her eye.

A flash of cobalt blue cut through the sea of people. Siuan froze mid-step, her heart kicking in her chest, missing a beat before it started up again. It couldn’t be. Here? In Saint Denis?

Her eyes narrowed, focusing through the mess of bodies and noise. A head of dark hair tucked beneath a blue scarf, pale skin catching the golden light of the afternoon sun. There was no mistaking it. That quiet, almost regal way the figure moved, like the chaos of the city didn’t touch her.

Moiraine.

“What in hell…,” Siuan whispered under her breath. It had been weeks since she’d walked away from that cabin in the Grizzlies, telling herself it was the right thing to do. Safer, smarter. She’d tried to shove all thoughts of the huntress aside, bury whatever had been brewing inside her ever since she’d seen those icy blue eyes for the first time. But meeting Moiraine here, in the heart of Saint Denis, knocked the wind out of her. 

Before her brain had a chance to catch up, her feet were already moving. She kept her eyes locked on that cobalt-blue coat, weaving around carts and dodging startled pedestrians. Moiraine moved with a grace that stood out, even here, like a swan among ducks. But there was something else, a tension in her shoulders, a haste in her steps that Siuan couldn’t quite figure out. 

“Moiraine!” she called, louder than she intended, not giving a damn about the curious looks thrown her way. 

The huntress didn’t turn. If anything, she quickened her pace, slipping down a narrow alleyway without so much as a glance back. Siuan cursed as she scrambled after her, nearly knocking over a cart stacked high with cabbages. “‘Scuse me,” she muttered in passing, not bothering to stop as the seller let out an indignant shout.

She darted into the alley, the noise of the street muffling behind her. The walls were close, the air thick with the smell of damp stone and moss. Moiraine was quick, she’d give her that, but Siuan had spent years tracking down fast things; wild horses, prey, folks who thought they could slip through her fingers. She wasn’t about to let this chase end here.

“Dammit, woman, would you just hold up for a minute?” Siuan barked, her voice rougher than she meant it to be, frustration boiling up in her chest. 

Moiraine didn’t stop. Her figure grew smaller, slipping around another corner, her blue scarf fluttering behind her like a flag in the wind. Siuan gritted her teeth and pressed on until she was practically sprinting. 

At the end of the alley, she finally caught up, her hand darting out to grab Moiraine’s arm. She hadn’t meant to be rough, but momentum and motion carried her forward, pinning the huntress against the brick wall. 

Siuan’s breath came in heavy pants, her chest rising and falling as she found herself face to face with the woman who’d somehow haunted her every thought since they first met. Their faces were so close she could feel Moiraine’s breath on her skin.

“You’re a hard woman to catch up with,” she said, trying for a casual tone, but her heart was still pounding hard enough to make her feel a bit lightheaded. 

Before she could even get another word out, she felt the unmistakable cold of steel pressing against her side. She glanced down and saw the glint of a dagger, poised with deadly precision in Moiraine’s slender hand. Siuan wasn’t sure if it was a threat or a warning, or maybe both.

“Let go of me,” Moiraine’s voice was as smooth as glass, cool and composed, but there was a hardness underneath it.

Siuan loosened her grip slightly, but she didn’t let go just yet. Not until she had some answers. Her gaze swept over Moiraine’s face, seeing for the first time how pale she looked, how those dark shadows had carved themselves under her eyes, and how a thin sheen of sweat clung to her brow despite the freezing afternoon air. Something twisted in her chest. 

“What brings you to Saint Denis?” Siuan swallowed, trying to mask the worry creeping into her voice. “You look like you’ve seen better days.”

“Are you my chaperone now?” The huntress’ voice was clipped, but her tone stayed smooth, controlled, like every emotion was tightly bottled behind that regal facade she always seemed to wear like armor.

Siuan met her gaze, unfazed. “Maybe I should be,” she muttered, her eyes roaming over Moiraine’s ashen face again. “You don’t look fit to be wanderin’ around alone.”

“I’m managing just fine, thank you,” Moiraine snapped, yanking her arm free with a sharp tug.

As she pulled away, something slipped from her pocket, hitting the cobblestones with a soft clink. Both women glanced down, but Siuan was quicker, snatching it up before Moiraine could react. She held the object in her hand, turning it over in her fingers; a small medicine vial, no bigger than a thumb, the glass tinted a murky green. Whatever was inside swirled slowly, thick and dark, and didn’t seem like something you’d just purchase without a good reason.

“What’s this?” Siuan asked, lifting the object to eye level.

For the first time, Moiraine’s carefully composed expression faltered. Just for a second, but it was there. Fear, maybe, or anger, or something in between. She looked like she was about to bolt, like she might just turn on her heel and vanish into the crowd without so much as saying another word. But then she froze, her face going even paler, her eyes fixed on the vial in Siuan’s hand.

“Give it back,” she demanded.

Siuan held the vial just out of reach, her eyes narrowing as she studied the huntress, really looked at her. Her face was drawn, the usual control she clung to slipping. That tremble in her hands… it was more than nerves. She was doing a poor job of hiding whatever was really going on.

“Hold on a second,” Siuan said, her voice quieter now. “You sick or somethin’?”

Moiraine didn’t answer right away, her gaze glued to the vial still clutched in Siuan’s hand, her lips pressed into a tight, stubborn line. “It’s none of your concern,” she finally retorted.

Siuan’s gut twisted. Something wasn’t right. “Moiraine, if you’re sick, I can—” she started, hoping to get through to her somehow. 

“I’m fine!” Moiraine snapped, cutting her off with more force than Siuan expected. But even then, the response felt off, like it was missing the quick wit or clever dodge she usually relied on. There were no riddles, no cryptic retorts this time. “Just… leave it. Please.”

It was the ‘please’ that stopped Siuan cold. It was so soft, so raw, like it scraped against Moiraine’s pride to even say it. She didn’t want help, didn’t ask for anything, really, except to be left alone. Siuan understood that all too well. But before she could even think of another way to reach Moiraine, the huntress lunged forward, snatching the vial from her hand. 

The sudden movement made her sway, and for a moment, Siuan thought she might collapse right here in the alley. Instinctively, she reached out to steady her, but Moiraine recoiled as if she’d been burned by the touch. 

“Don’t,” the huntress hissed, regaining her footing. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, her eyes darting away from Siuan’s, refusing to meet her gaze.

Siuan exhaled, frustration rising to the surface. “You’re as stubborn as a mule in a mud pit,” she muttered, the bite of her words barely covering the concern that bled through. “I can help. I know folks around here. Could get you sorted, make things right.”

“I don’t want help,” Moiraine insisted, but there was a tremble in her voice now - a crack in the armor.

“Well, maybe I need to help,” Siuan shot back, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. She hadn’t planned on saying that, hadn’t even realized how much of this was about her, too. How much of it was tied up in her own need to do something. 

Moiraine finally met her eyes again, and for a fleeting moment, the walls between them seemed to waver. “Why?” she asked quietly, like the answer mattered more than she wanted to admit. 

“Because…,” Siuan began, then faltered. Why indeed? Because ever since that day in the woods, she hadn’t been able to shake the thought of this woman. The mystery of her, the challenge, the way she stirred up feelings Siuan had long buried. But saying any of that aloud felt like too much, like opening a door she wasn’t sure she could close again.

Siuan cleared her throat, trying to shake off the weight of it all. “Because I owe you. You saved my hide, and I don’t like debts hangin’ over me.” 

Moiraine’s eyes softened just a bit, like maybe she was starting to let her guard down. “Consider it repaid,” she said, quieter now. “By leaving me be.”

“Ain’t happenin’,” Siuan said, shaking her head. “Not when you’re lookin’ half-dead.”

Moiraine’s mouth opened, like she had some sharp answer ready to throw back at her, but then she stopped. Her shoulders slumped just a little, and a heavy sigh slipped out, as if she was finally too tired to keep up the act. “You’re impossible,” she muttered.

Siuan let out a soft chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “So I’ve been told,” she said with a crooked grin. “Come on, at least let me get you somewhere to rest. No people ’round there.”

Before Moiraine could muster a protest, the distant clatter of boots echoed from the mouth of the alley. Siuan glanced over her shoulder, spotting a couple of lawmen making their rounds, their eyes sweeping the shadows. A sense of urgency spiked in her gut. Her bounty in Saint Denis wasn’t sky-high, but it was enough to buy her a couple of cold nights in a cell. 

Moiraine’s eyes flicked toward the lawmen, clearly reading the shift in Siuan’s stance. “Fine,” she conceded.

Without another word, Siuan gave a quick gesture for the huntress to follow, and they slipped deeper into the maze of backstreets. She kept her pace quick and her eyes sharp, scanning for any familiar faces in the crowd. The sooner they were out of sight, the better. She led them to a quiet inn near the edge of town, the kind of place no one asked questions. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and, more importantly, discreet. 

The innkeeper gave Siuan a knowing nod but no words were exchanged, just the way she liked it. A few coins slid across the counter, and a key was dropped into her palm. No fuss, no trouble.

Upstairs, the room was modest, bare bones, really. Four walls, a bed, a chair, a table, and not much else, but it’d do. Moiraine sank onto the edge of the bed, sitting straight despite the exhaustion written plain on her face.

“Hold on,” Siuan muttered, glancing over at her. “I’ll get you some water for that medicine of yours.”

She left briefly and returned with a pitcher and a tin cup, watching as Moiraine took them with hands that shook just enough for Siuan to notice. The huntress, always so damn proud and untouchable, looked fragile for once, and that did something to Siuan she wasn’t sure how to explain.

She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms as she watched Moiraine pour the water. “You gonna tell me now what’s really goin’ on?”

Moiraine uncorked the vial and downed its contents in one quick motion, grimacing at the taste. She chased it with a sip of water, pausing for a beat before finally speaking. “I was bitten.”

“Bitten?” Siuan echoed, her brow furrowing. “By what?”

“A rattlesnake,” Moiraine said, almost grudgingly. “Two days ago.”

“Dammit, lady!” Siuan’s voice rose as she pushed off the wall. She immediately recalled her own encounter with a rattlesnake, the very reason that had prompted her stay at Moiraine‘s cabin in the first place. “Why didn’t you get help sooner?”

Moiraine’s eyes flickered, her shoulders stiffening with defense. “I had it under control,” she muttered, but her gaze fell to her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, as if she could somehow chase the truth away. “It was a small snake. I made some special tea to flush the poison out of my system.”

“I can see how well that’s workin’ out for you...,” Siuan shook her head. “You and your teas.”

“It’s just… taking longer to recover than I expected,” the other woman admitted quietly, like the words had been pulled out of her against her will.

Siuan let out a long sigh, feeling her anger melt into something else. Empathy, maybe. Hell, she didn’t even know anymore. “You can’t just tough out a snakebite like it’s nothin’, Moiraine. That ain’t how this works. You need rest. Were you seriously plannin’ on draggin’ yourself back up those mountains in this state?”

Moiraine didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. The way her lips pressed into that stubborn line told Siuan everything. Of course she’d planned on doing just that.

”Maybe you’ve managed on your own before,” Siuan continued, her temper cooling. “But you don’t have to this time.”

Moiraine’s head lifted slowly, her blue eyes meeting Siuan’s with something different in them this time, something unclear, like she wasn’t used to hearing those words, much less believing them. “Why would you say that?”

Siuan hesitated. She could offer a dozen excuses - the debt she felt she owed, common decency, or maybe just her plain old stubbornness that wouldn’t let her leave things alone. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t any of that. At least not entirely. 

“Guess I just don’t want to see you die on your way back up that mountain,” she said at last. 

For a brief moment, Moiraine didn’t speak. Siuan saw something in the other woman’s eyes that hadn’t been there before: fear, desperation, vulnerability. Raw and unguarded.

“I don’t want your pity,” the huntress whispered.

“Good. ‘Cause I ain’t offerin’ any,” Siuan said firmly. “What I’m offerin’ is help. I ain’t the type to just stand by.”

“You hardly know me,” Moiraine said softly, though it wasn’t a protest. The fight had drained from her words, leaving behind something almost resigned.

“Maybe not,” Siuan conceded. “But I reckon you don’t let many people get to know you, do ya?” 

Moiraine’s lips parted, like she had something to say, but the words didn’t come. She just stared at Siuan, and for once, it looked like she didn’t have any answer ready. Nothing, just silence.

Siuan stepped closer. “We all got our ghosts, Moiraine. I know it better than most. There ain’t no shame in acceptin’ a bit of help when you need it. Even if you think you’re fine on your own.”

Moiraine’s eyes fluttered shut, and a long, slow breath escaped her, like she was trying to let go of something heavy. “You’re a stubborn woman.”

Siuan’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Reckon we both are,” she replied lightly. “But right now, you need rest. I’ll stay close in case you need anythin’.”

The huntress gave a slow nod, the fight draining out of her for good, leaving nothing but exhaustion. “Very well,” she whispered, her voice so quiet Siuan barely caught it.

As Moiraine settled onto the bed, Siuan pulled a chair over. She sat down, her gaze immediately drawn back to the woman, watching as she teetered on the edge of sleep.

It was strange, really, how often their paths seemed to cross, like some unseen hand was nudging them together, time and again. Fate, fortune, bad luck - whatever one wanted to call it. Either way, Siuan couldn’t shake the feeling that every time she and Moiraine ended up in each other’s presence, she was getting pulled closer. And that was a problem.

She’d made the promise to herself; never get attached again, never get close again. But Moiraine had saved her life, and if nothing else, Siuan owed her for that. She couldn’t just leave it. She couldn’t leave her.

“You’re staring,” Moiraine murmured suddenly, but there was no bite to it. She didn’t even open her eyes.

Siuan blinked, heat creeping up her neck, catching her off guard. “Just makin’ sure you’re still breathin’,” she said, keeping her tone casual, though she couldn’t stop the warmth flushing her cheeks. “Go on and sleep now. I’m here.”

They lapsed into silence once more, the room growing dim as night settled in. Siuan watched as Moiraine’s breathing evened out and sleep finally claimed her. Little by little, she could see the tension lift from the huntress’ face, the exhaustion finally loosening its grip.

Through the night, Siuan couldn’t really find sleep herself. Her eyes never strayed far from the bed, her thoughts never drifted too far from the woman sleeping there. She couldn’t help to notice all the small details; the way Moiraine’s dark hair clung to her damp forehead, the faint crease between her brows in sleep, as if she was fighting even now. Siuan felt a tug in her chest, a pull toward this woman she didn’t fully understand, but couldn’t help but care for.

Chapter Text

Morning crept in like a reluctant guest and Siuan hadn’t caught a wink of sleep. She was slouched in that creaky old chair, one arm flung over the back like she’d given up on the idea of comfort hours ago. Calling that rest would be a downright lie.

She shifted, rubbing a hand over her face in a futile attempt to chase away the exhaustion. Every muscle protested, stiff from hours spent hunched over like that, but she’d take that over the mess in her head any day. A little pain in the bones? Pff, she could handle. 

All night, she’d been keeping watch over Moiraine, her mind tied tighter than a knotted rope. Every time her eyelids dared to drop, that anxious twist in her gut yanked her back awake, reminding her of the feverish woman just a few steps away.

The huntress had been restless the whole night, murmuring incoherent words that somehow hadn’t even sounded close to English. Siuan wasn’t sure what haunted the woman in her dreams, but it sure wasn’t nothing.

Siuan glanced toward the bed again. Moiraine didn’t look much better than yesterday, maybe even a touch worse. Her skin was pale, almost gray, lips cracked, hair plastered to her forehead in damp curls. Each shallow breath sounded like it cost her more effort than the previous one. 

A jolt of helplessness shot through Siuan. She wasn’t cut out for this; for feeling powerless, helpless, clueless. This wasn’t a situation she could fix with a gun, a gamble, or a well-aimed punch. It was the kind of thing that drove her half-mad. All she could do was waiting for Moiraine to either break the fever or… No, she wouldn’t entertain that thought. 

Goddamn it. What the hell was she supposed to do with that woman? One way or another, she’d have to figure something out. 

She stood up, boots creaking against the worn floorboards as she crossed the small room. Leaning her weight against the window frame, Siuan gazed out at the smog, wrapping itself around the city like a thick blanket.

Saint Denis was just waking up outside. The distant clatter of a train echoed through the haze, wagons rattled over cobblestones below. It was quiet, almost peaceful, like the world itself was still wiping the sleep from its eyes. Siuan absently thumbed the brim of her hat, her breath fogging up the cold windowpane as she watched the city move on without her.

With a heavy sigh, she peeled herself away from the window and turned back toward Moiraine. “Stubborn fool,” she muttered, not unkindly. 

Dragging the chair closer to the bed, she sank down beside the huntress. Silence filled the space between them, broken only by the stirrings of the city outside and the uneven rise and fall of Moiraine’s breath. 

Siuan leaned forward, elbows on her knees, eyes fixed on the woman as if sheer willpower could pull her back to health. Her fingers twitched, the urge to reach out almost overpowering. Before she even knew it, her hand was hovering over Moiraine’s forehead, fingertips aching to push back that stray curl stuck to her damp skin. It was such a small thing, but it felt like stepping over some invisible line she wasn’t sure she was ready to cross.

She pulled back at the last second, curling her hand into a fist. “Too close, Siuan,” she thought to herself. “Too damn close.”

As if sensing her, the huntress stirred. A soft moan escaped her lips, and her eyelids fluttered open, revealing glassy blue eyes clouded with fever. She blinked sluggishly, like she was trying to piece together where she was.

“Hey there,” Siuan said softly. “Welcome back to the land of the livin’.” 

Moiraine’s gaze found her, a faint crease forming between her brows. “Siuan?” Her voice barely made it past her lips, hoarse and weak.

“The one and only,” Siuan replied, flashing a lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You’re still here,” Moiraine murmured, like it surprised her. 

Siuan shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “Yeah. Ain’t gonna leave you like this,” she said, attempting a light tone, but her concern bled through, no matter how much she tried to cover it up. “How you feelin’?”

“Like I’ve been trampled by wild horses,” the huntress rasped.

Siuan snorted softly. “Reckon you look the part,” she teased, hoping a little humor might ease the tension. She watched as Moiraine attempted to sit up, though her strength gave out quick. Her face was tight with exhaustion and pain, but that mask of stubbornness never left her. Typical. 

Siuan cleared her throat, trying to hide her worry. “You need water? Tea? Somethin’ stronger?”

“Water would be nice.” 

“Comin’ right up.” Siuan was on her feet before the words were fully out of Moiraine’s mouth. She fetched a cup from the table and poured fresh water. When she handed it over, she couldn’t help but notice the way Moiraine’s fingers trembled.

“You really ain’t lookin’ good,” Siuan muttered, more to herself than to the huntress. “We oughta get you a doctor. Someone who knows what they’re doin’.”

“No.” The word came out solid and firm, with a strength that didn’t match the woman’s fragile state. “No doctors.” 

Siuan blinked, frowning. She eased back into the chair, crossing her arms as she studied the pale face in front of her. “No doctors? Now why the hell not?”

Moiraine shifted her gaze away, her voice quieter but no less resolved. “I prefer to handle matters myself.”

“Well, hate to break it to you, but you’re doin’ a piss-poor job of it,” Siuan shot back, sharper than she meant to. She sighed, softening her tone. “Look, I ain’t tryin’ to run your life here, but you need proper help, lady.”

“I said no.” Moiraine’s voice cracked, but the steel in it didn’t bend.

Siuan stared at her for a moment, trying to make sense of it. The woman looked rough, and whatever self-treatment she’d been doing wasn’t cutting it.

The silence stretched between them, and Siuan watched the way Moiraine’s chin lifted, stubborn as ever, with something flickering behind her exhaustion. That was the thing with Moiraine; she kept everything locked up tight and Siuan didn’t know if she’d ever get her to open up. Maybe that was part of the draw.

“You’re burnin’ up,” Siuan pressed. “A doc could-”

“I don’t have the money to pay for a doctor,” Moiraine interrupted, though there was something off about the way she said it. Sure, it made sense that a lone huntress living out in the woods probably didn’t have much to her name, but something about her tone made Siuan think there was more to it. 

“Money?” She echoed, disbelief coloring her tone. “That’s what this is about? Hell, I got enough coin to cover it. Ain’t no skin off my back.”

Moiraine’s eyes snapped to hers, and there it was again, that flicker of stubbornness, burning right through the fever. “No,” she said, her head shaking weakly. “I don’t want your money. You already paid for the room, I won’t let you pay for anything else.”

Siuan let out a long breath, dragging a hand down her neck in frustration. This woman… Even on the verge of passing out, her pride was sharper than a knife. “Well, you got more pride than sense, that’s for sure,” she muttered.

Moiraine’s expression hardened, that familiar distance creeping back in, locking Siuan out. “I just need to go home,” she murmured. “If you really want to help me… take me home.” 

Siuan huffed. “Back up there? You ain’t even close to bein’ well enough for that. You need rest.”

“I’ll be fine,” Moiraine insisted, though the words rang hollow, as if she didn’t believe them herself. She struggled to push the blankets off her, wincing at the effort, but eventually, she managed to sit up. “Just take me home. I… I don’t belong here.” 

Siuan’s frown deepened as she watched Moiraine fight against her own body. “I don’t get it… Why? You’re safer here, at least for now.”

The huntress bit down on her lip, her hand clutching the blankets like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her blue eyes met Siuan’s, and for a moment, it looked like she might finally explain. But then her gaze wavered, and she just shook her head, a helpless look passing across her face. “Just take me home. Please, Siuan.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, it wasn’t a command - it was a plea. And that was what rattled Siuan the most. Moiraine wasn’t the type to beg. That woman was all steel and silence most days, and seeing her like this; fragile, desperate… it cut deeper than Siuan liked to admit. 

She hesitated, her eyes scanning Moiraine’s face for something - anything - that would make this feel like a good idea. Why was she so insistent, so eager to drag herself back to that isolated cabin when she could barely stand? It rattled every bit of sense Siuan had left. She knew there was more to it than just wanting the comfort of home and a familiar bed. There had to be.

But damn it all… seeing Moiraine desperate like this…

Siuan sighed, long and deep, like she was breathing out all her better judgment. “Alright, fine,” she muttered grudgingly, giving in. “No doctors. We’ll get you back to your cabin.”

“Thank you,” the other woman whispered, her head dipping in a weak nod. 

Siuan didn’t waste any time. Whatever Moiraine’s reasons were, they had to get moving. No point in standing around debating. The sooner they hit the road, the sooner they could get the huntress back to wherever she thought she belonged.

Grabbing her satchel, Siuan shoved her worries deep down where they couldn’t crawl up and distract her. “We’re ridin’ for this, you know, right?” she muttered, mostly to herself.

The thought of the ride, of having Moiraine pressed up against her the whole way, sent a strange discomfort rippling through her - not that she’d ever admit it.

By the time they stumbled out into the gray morning, Moiraine was more dead weight than anything, her body practically collapsing into Siuan’s arms. The woman looked like she could disappear right into the fog if Siuan so much as blinked. 

Siuan wasn’t one for sweet talk and soft words, but seeing her struggle like this - someone so strong, so stubborn - made her feel lost. The huntress was a tough one, yes, but even Siuan had her limits when it came to watching someone like that, someone she… well, someone she felt responsible for. At least until her debt was paid. 

When they finally reached her horse, Siuan moved out of habit, swinging into the saddle with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times. But then she paused, glancing down at Moiraine, who stood there swaying like a leaf in the wind. Without a word, Siuan reached down, her hand catching the woman’s arm, and hauled her up onto the horse behind her.

“Hold on tight,” Siuan muttered over her shoulder. “Last thing we need is you tumblin’ off halfway there.” 

At first, Moiraine’s arms barely brushed Siuan’s waist, a ghost of a touch, but then she felt her shift closer, arms tightening ever so slightly around her. And just like that, she could feel her; every breath, every soft rise and fall of her chest, the warmth pressing into her back. It sent a shiver down her spine, making her acutely aware of just how close they suddenly were.

It was a kind of closeness she hadn’t felt in years, maybe not since… well, since a long damn time ago. Siuan wasn’t sure if she’d missed it, or if it just stirred something old and unbidden.

Either way, it didn’t matter. Not now, not ever. She had to stay focused. 

There was a long ride ahead, and Siuan wasn’t about to get lost in a mess of feelings that had no place in the here and now. She nudged the mare forward, focusing on the rhythm of the horse’s hooves and the dusty road.

The ride was mostly quiet, save for the occasional grunt or mumble from Moiraine as she drifted in and out of sleep. Every so often, Siuan felt her grip slacken, those weak arms slipping from around her waist with each sway of the horse. Each time it happened, Siuan’s pulse kicked up, her breath catching as she reached back to nudge the woman awake.

“Stay with me, Moiraine,” she urged.

By the time they finally reached the cabin, Moiraine was barely conscious. The ride had taken its toll, and Siuan couldn’t quite believe she had agreed to this idea. Part of her wanted to chew the woman out for pushing herself like this, but there wasn’t any point now.

“You’re one stubborn lady,” Siuan muttered, shaking her head as she carefully slid from the saddle. She worked quickly, trying not to jostle Moiraine more than necessary.

Moiraine blinked slowly at the comment, too exhausted to fire back with any of the wit that usually danced behind her sharp eyes.

Without another word, Siuan moved. She slipped her arms around Moiraine, lifting her down from the horse as if she were nothing more than a bundle of worn clothes. There was no protest, no resistance. The huntress was spent, her strength all but gone, and for a moment, Siuan was struck by just how light she felt in her arms.

Carrying her toward the cabin, Siuan kicked the door open with her foot, not hesitating, not stopping to think. She just kept moving forward, the weight of the woman in her arms somehow grounding her, guiding her steps straight for the bedroom.

Stepping into Moiraine’s personal space for the first time, Siuan was hit with a flood of impressions. The room was small and modest, just like the rest of the cabin, but in a way that felt purposeful, like everything had its place. Much like the owner herself, the space wasn’t grand or showy, but it held a mystery that made her pause.

The bed was neatly made, blankets smooth and tucked with precision, despite Moiraine’s current state. Siuan could picture the huntress, even feverish and barely on her feet, insisting on keeping the room in order. Pillows fluffed just right, sheets drawn tight. It was those small details that told Siuan more about Moiraine than any conversation probably ever could.

As Siuan’s gaze swept across the room, something familiar snagged her attention. A dreamcatcher was hanging above the bed, but this one was different from the one she’d seen in the main room during her previous stay. It looked older and more intricate, like it had a history, a story behind it. Siuan couldn’t help but wonder about the hands that made it, and what it meant to the huntress.

She stepped further into the room, and a subtle scent hit her, soft but unmistakable - lavender. Moiraine’s scent. Siuan hesitated for a brief moment, struck by the intimacy of being here, in Moiraine’s space, surrounded by her scent, her things, her memories. 

She shook her head, forcing herself back into focus. There wasn’t room for distractions. She had a job to do, and that job was getting Moiraine settled. After all, that’s all this was. Just another job, a debt to pay. Nothing more, nothing less.

With careful movements, she laid the huntress down on the bed. Moiraine’s head lolled to the side, her eyes fluttering open for just a brief second, glazed and far away, before slipping shut again.

“There we go,” Siuan said, her voice soft enough that it felt strange even to her ears. “Home sweet home.” 

“Thank… you…, “ Moiraine whispered, her voice so faint that Siuan had to lean in to catch it. “You’re… very… kind.” 

Siuan snorted softly, more out of habit than anything else. “Don’t go spreadin’ that around,” she joked, trying to keep things light despite the weight of the moment. “Got a reputation to uphold.”

A faint smile curved at the woman’s lips. It was soft, barely there, but enough to tug at something deep in Siuan’s chest. Before she could dwell on it, Moiraine slipped back into sleep, her breathing now even and steady. 

With a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, Siuan straightened up. Her hands moved instinctively, pulling the blankets up over Moiraine’s shoulders, tucking them in with a gentleness that felt foreign. It was strange how easily it came, how natural the motion was, even though it didn’t fit the image she had of herself.

She took a step back, lingering for just a moment before finally letting herself turn away. Back in the main room of the cabin, she paused, taking it all in for the first time. Her eyes swept over the familiar space and the irony of it hit her; the fact that she was here again, in the place that she had tried to leave behind for good not too long ago.

Siuan shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be this close.

That familiar voice in her head was back in full force, louder now, reminding her of all the reasons she needed to walk away. But despite that voice, despite the logical part of her brain practically screaming at her to leave, Siuan couldn’t. Not now. Not with Moiraine like this.

So here she was, stuck in that damn cabin again, in a home that wasn’t hers, with the homeowner unconscious in the other room. She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. So… what the hell was she supposed to do now?

A couple of weeks ago, she might’ve busied herself with finding a hidden stash, rifling through drawers for something worth pocketing, making sure she got some kind of payoff for her trouble. But now? 

Now all she could think about was how useless she felt. She didn’t know a damn thing about herbs, about medicines and remedies, about taking care of sick people, about anything that Moiraine might need.

But there was one thing she knew how to do at least: fire. The cabin had a chill to it that seemed to crawl under her skin, and she wasn’t about to let the huntress get worse because of the cold.

“Well, might as well make myself useful,” she muttered, rolling up her sleeves and grabbing some kindling and logs from the corner. At least this was something she could control, something she could put her hands to.

It wasn’t until she knelt down to light the wood that she realized just how much her hands were shaking. The matches slipped from her fingers twice before she finally managed to strike one.

Siuan sat back on her heels, staring into the growing flames, watching as they licked at the logs and began to spread their warmth through the space. It felt strange, tending to someone else’s home, taking care of things that weren’t hers.

Her mind drifted again, settling into a familiar rhythm as she stood up and grabbed two buckets by the door. The creek wasn’t far, and Siuan needed something to keep her hands busy, something to keep her from standing around and thinking too much. 

She knelt by the bank, dipping the buckets into the ice-cold water and the chill was instantly biting into her flesh. As the buckets filled, a memory flashed in her mind; Moiraine bathing in this very spot. 

The image was unbidden but sudden and vivid, and Siuan felt heat rise to her cheeks. She shook her head fiercely, trying to banish the imagination. The water was freezing. How the hell did the woman manage to swim in this at all? 

Siuan shook her head again, more forcefully this time, commanding her thoughts back to the present. She wasn’t here to dwell on… that.

Back inside the cabin, the warmth of the fire hit her like a welcome distraction. She set one of the buckets by the hearth to warm and used the other to fill a kettle. 

As the water heated, Siuan couldn’t help but think about the gang. She’d skipped out on the trapper, hadn’t brought back supplies or money - once again. Gareth would have her head for this. 

But, oddly enough, the thought didn’t bother her the way it should, the way it used to. It felt distant, like a problem that belonged to another version of herself. All that mattered in this moment was Moiraine, lying feverish in the next room. Everything else felt muted, almost irrelevant in comparison, even if she couldn’t quite explain why.

Siuan realized it only now; for the first time in what felt like forever, her focus wasn’t on survival, on scraping by, on the next score. It was on something - someone - else.

It wasn’t something she was used to, this feeling of having a purpose that went beyond herself. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, but maybe, sticking around wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. 

“No! Distance!” 

That’s what she needed.  

Out in the wild, it worked just fine; get far enough away from things, and they couldn’t touch you. But here, in this cabin, there was no room for distance. Not with Moiraine so close and vulnerable. Siuan felt trapped, not by the walls of the space, but by her own feelings. 

She wanted to shove it all aside, bury it like she always had. But there was something about being here, in the huntress’ home, looking after her. It felt both wrong and right all at once, like she was being pulled in two directions at the same time.

Siuan rubbed both her hands over her face, trying to ground herself, trying to remind herself of who she was. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t someone who stayed, who cared, who got caught up in other people’s lives. She was an outlaw, a drifter; always moving, always keeping her distance. 

“Just a job. Repayin’ debts and be gone,” she thought to herself. 

The hours dragged on painfully slow. It was back to waiting, watching, not knowing what to do. She tried not to think about it too hard, tried to lose herself in the crackle of the fire, but the silence pressed in, making her feel more and more useless. And Siuan hated feeling useless. 

Finally, when she couldn’t take the waiting any longer, she pushed herself to move. The urge to check on the sick woman tugged at her. Maybe the fever had broken. Maybe Moiraine would need something. Siuan needed anything, any change, to break the silence that left her alone with nothing but her train of thoughts. 

“Moiraine?” she called softly, pushing the door open, careful not to startle her awake.

But surprisingly, the huntress was already awake, sitting half-way up in bed, though unsteady. Siuan’s eyes flicked to the floor. A mug lay tipped over, tea spilled across the wooden boards, the dark stain spreading slowly.

“What’re you doin’?” Siuan asked, surprised to find her awake at all. She moved over to pick up the mug, sighing softly as she knelt down. “You need to be restin’.”

Moiraine blinked slowly, as if she was waking from a dream she hadn’t fully left behind. “I… I was thirsty,” she murmured, her voice fragile, like it was coming from somewhere far away. There was a little more color in her cheeks, though, which Siuan took as a good sign. The few hours of sleep had done something, at least. 

Siuan set the mug aside. “You just say the word, and I’ll bring you whatever you need.”

The huntress hesitated and looked at her with that same unreadable expression she’d worn since the first time they’d crossed paths. It stirred a familiar frustration in Siuan. It always felt like she was trying to see through fog when it came to that woman. 

However, never one to let silence linger too long, Siuan spoke up after a while. “I get it… it’s strange, havin’ someone else here, doin’ things in your home. But you can trust me.” She paused, gauging a reaction, though Moiraine gave her nothing to work with. “Let me repay what you’ve done for me, and then I’ll be on my way. You won’t have to see me again.”

The words tasted bitter on her tongue. The idea of never seeing the woman again left a sudden, hollow feeling in her chest. But Siuan forced a smile, made the words sound as casual as she could. After all, what did she expect? This wasn’t her place, and she had no business sticking around longer than she needed to. 

After a long moment, Moiraine nodded. “Could you… make me some tea, please? The herbs are on the shelf, the jar with the green label. And there’s a glass vial right next to it. Add three drops of that, too.“

“Tea? Yeah, tea I can do,” Siuan replied with a mock salute, her lips quirking into a smirk, trying to coax a smile from Moiraine. She hadn’t managed to make her laugh, not once, not really, but she wasn’t giving up. “Any special instructions, or do I just throw it all in and hope it doesn’t blow up?” 

Moiraine’s lips barely twitched. “Steep one spoonful for five minutes. No more, no less,” she said, her tone clipped and precise, despite her condition. She was coming back to herself, Siuan realized with some relief. “And exactly three drops from the vial.”

“Got it. One spoonful, five minutes, three drops,” Siuan repeated, backing out of the room with a playful smile. “Be right back.”

But as she turned into the main room of the cabin, the smile faded. She let out a long, slow breath, feeling the weight of the request, though it sounded simple enough. She surveyed the shelves lined with jars. Each one of them was labeled in that neat, delicate handwriting of Moiraine’s, packed with dried herbs and remedies Siuan couldn’t even begin to name.

She squinted. “Green label, green label…,” she mumbled to herself, fingers tracing over the jars as she moved along the shelf. Eventually, her fingers landed on the right pick. “There you are.”

Just as she reached for it, her elbow caught another jar, sending it toppling over. Time seemed to slow as it fell, and Siuan winced as glass shattered against the floor, scattering dried flower buds and petals everywhere.

“Ah, hell,” she muttered, dropping to her knees to pick up the mess. “Clumsy as a newborn colt.” 

Siuan paused, eyes darting toward the door where the huntress was resting, hoping the noise hadn’t startled her. The last thing either of them needed was Moiraine up and fussing. 

She carefully swept the glass shards aside, mindful not to slice open her fingers. That’s when something caught her eye - a tiny glint of gold and blue, half-hidden among the mess of petals and broken glass.

“What in…?” Siuan mumbled, pushing the scattered debris aside to get a better look of the small object that was hidden. 

Her brow furrowed as her fingers brushed over something cool and metallic. “What’ve we got here?” she mused, lifting the object carefully. It was a necklace of some kind, the chain delicate yet sturdy, ending in a pendant of polished gold encasing a striking blue gemstone. 

She let out a low whistle. “Hidin’ fancy jewels in herb jars, are we?”

Siuan turned it over in her hand, the weight of it making her frown deepen. This wasn’t some trinket anybody would wear for good luck, nor something you’d simply stumble upon in the wilderness. No, this looked expensive, really expensive. The craftsmanship was exquisite, far beyond what a simple huntress might possess. 

“So much for not havin’ money, huh?” Her thumb grazed over the back of the pendant, and she felt something carved into the metal. Squinting in the firelight, Siuan tilted it to get a better look. 

“IKZ,” she read softly.

Why did it sound familiar?

“IKZ…”

And then, time seemed to slow down. The initials hit her like a bolt of lightning. Siuan’s eyes widened and her breath caught as the pieces clicked into place, one after another. 

“Isabeau Katharina Zinsmeister,” she whispered, the name rolling off her tongue with disbelief.

Siuan blinked, feeling the room tilt slightly beneath her boots as the realization sunk in. Her eyes flicked toward the bedroom door, her pulse quickening. Was she right all along? Was Moiraine, the quiet, lone huntress, really the missing princess?

She’d always had her suspicions. Little things, things that didn’t really add up. But this? This was proof. Cold, hard proof that Moiraine - or pardon, Isabeau, or whatever the hell her real name was - had been hiding more than just a few brewing secrets.

Siuan swallowed hard, her thoughts racing.

There were a thousand things she could do with this information. She could turn her in, collect the reward, and get out from under the gang’s shadow. But no, it didn’t sit right. Not even a little. 

“I’ll be damned,” Siuan breathed, clenching her fist around the pendant, her heart pounding against her ribs like it was trying to break free. She was in deep now, deeper than she’d ever intended to be.

Her thumb brushed over the engraving again, the initials that confirmed what her instincts had been whispering all along. She should’ve been mad, felt betrayed maybe, or even cheerful maybe, but all she felt was a swirling confusion. Why was someone like a princess out here, living like this? Nearly dying from a snakebite, refusing a doctor when she could probably afford to buy the whole medical office.

Siuan rose slowly, the weight of the discovery pressing down on her shoulders like a saddlebag filled with rocks. The necklace dangled from her fingers, catching the light as it swayed, the blue stone glinting like it held all the secrets she urged to unlock. She needed answers. And she needed them now.

Steeling herself, she made her way back to the bedroom.

Moiraine’s eyes flicked up to meet Siuan’s as she entered, and her gaze immediately locked onto the necklace in Siuan’s hand. Whatever color the woman had regained drained from her face in an instant, leaving her paler than death. 

Siuan cleared her throat, suddenly aware of the tension coiling between them. “I, uh, might’ve broken something,” she began, her voice a little too tight, not nearly as casual as she wanted it to be. “And found this tucked away.” 

The huntress’ reaction was instant. She shot upright in bed, wincing from the effort, but her eyes blazed with a wildness Siuan hadn’t seen ever before. “How did you get that?” Moiraine demanded, almost frantically. 

“Smashed one of your jars,” Siuan replied cautiously, raising her free hand as if to calm a spooked horse. “I wasn’t snoopin’, I swear. The jar just fell. Clumsy hands and all.” 

Moiraine’s chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as her gaze dropped to the floor. She swallowed hard, clearly struggling to find the right words. “It’s… it’s a keepsake. Nothing more.”

Siuan’s eyes narrowed. No, she wasn’t having it. No more lies. “Don’t play me for a fool.”

“You shouldn’t have found that,” the huntress whispered, but her voice trembled, barely holding onto the tight thread of control she’d managed to weave. Her hands fisted in the blankets, her whole body rigid with fear or anger or maybe both.

“Yeah, probably not,” Siuan agreed. “But I did. And now I’m wonderin’ who you really are. It’s true, now, ain’t it? You’re the missin’ princess.”

Moiraine’s head snapped up at that, and her eyes flashed with something fierce. “It’s none of your concern,” she spat, but the bite in her words wasn’t strong enough to cover the fear seeping through. 

Siuan stepped closer until she was standing right at the edge of the bed, the pendant dangling between them like some kind of unspoken threat.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” she countered. “You’ve got a reward on your head big enough to make a person rich beyond their wildest dreams. But here you are, hidin’ out in the middle of nowhere, nearly killin’ yourself over what? Pride?” 

Her words hit their mark. Siuan could see it in the way the huntress flinched, how her jaw tightened, how her gaze darted from the necklace back to Siuan, then around the room, like a caged animal looking for an escape.

For a split second, the crack in Moiraine’s armor showed. It was there, plain as day, and for a heartbeat, she thought the woman might finally crumble, might let everything spill out. All the secrets, all the lies. But then, just as quickly, the cold, hard mask slammed back into place. The walls were up again, higher than ever.

And before Siuan could even process what was happening, Moiraine’s hand slipped beneath the pillow in one quick movement. The next thing she saw was the cold gleam of metal, and her heart skipped a beat.

Moiraine’s fingers were wrapped tight around the revolver, her knuckles white, her whole body trembling with the effort it took to hold the weapon steady. But even with the shaking, the gun was aimed squarely at Siuan’s head.

“I didn’t want it to come to this…” 

Moiraine’s voice didn’t falter, but there was the sheen of tears in her eyes that she wouldn’t let fall. 

“…but no one was supposed to ever find out.” 

Chapter Text

“No one was supposed to ever find out.”

Siuan froze, boots rooted like she’d just tried to cross a riverbed that turned to quicksand. 

“Whoa now… easy.” Her voice dropped low, calm. She slowly raised both her hands, palms open, letting the expensive jewelry slip from her fingers to the floor. “Ain’t no need for pullin’ triggers. Just lookin’ to have a little chat, is all. Figure some things out.”

“Figure things out?” Moiraine let out a small, bitter huff. “You can’t possibly understand.” 

“Maybe not,” Siuan replied carefully, as if she could soothe the tension away with nothing but words. “But I’m all ears if you’re willin’ to share. Look, you know me - I ain’t exactly the talk of polite society. Hell, I’m an outlaw myself, remember?”

“I do,” Moiraine’s jaw tightened, a muscle feathering beneath her ashen skin. “So why would I ever trust an outlaw?”  

That… stung. Actually, it hit Siuan harder than the gun aimed between her eyes. But she couldn’t argue, not really. The huntress had every right to be wary. After all, Siuan had flirted with the idea of going after that reward many times. But she hadn’t done it. That had to count for something. 

Swallowing down the ache, she kept her expression steady, played it cool. She took a slow, measured step forward, testing how much ground she could claim.

“Lady, if I wanted that money on your head, you’d already be back to Saint Denis, sittin’ pretty in the sheriff’s office.” She paused, her tone sharpening just enough to drive the point home. “But I didn’t do that, did I? Been out here with you, and I ain’t breathed a word to nobody. Light above, Moiraine, you know I had my suspicion all along.” 

The huntress’ eyes flickered, a brief flash of uncertainty crossing her features before her grip on the revolver tightened. “I can’t risk it,” she whispered, her voice raw, almost broken.

Siuan took another small step forward, slow and easy. “Risk what?” she asked, her voice softening. “Bein’ helped? Bein’ cared for?”

“Stop!” 

The word came out sharp as needles, almost a plea, as Moiraine’s voice cracked. Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to spill over any second now. “Just… stop!”

Siuan halted, feeling a deep-seated pull to back off. Every instinct from years on the run was telling her to quit while she was ahead, to take the weapon aimed at her head seriously. But something else, something stronger, kept her rooted to the spot. She wasn’t afraid of the gun, not really. What scared her more was the terror she saw in Moiraine’s face. 

“I ain’t gonna hurt you,” Siuan said quietly, stepping forward again, just a hair closer. “You don’t need to hide no more.”

“I won’t go back!” Moiraine’s voice rang out, trembling with desperation. Her hand shook now, the revolver wobbling in her grip, but she didn’t lower it. “I’d rather die out here than go back to that… that gilded cage!”

Siuan’s heart twisted at the unfiltered pain in those words. She could see it; the panic in the huntress’ eyes, plain as day. What in the hell had this woman been through? “You don’t have to go back,” she said. “Not if you don’t want to.”

A single tear broke free, sliding down Moiraine’s cheek. It was like watching a wall come falling down to dust. Every bit of armor she’d been wearing, every mask she’d held up, every piece of herself she’d hidden behind - it all fell away in that one moment. No more mysteries, no more lies, no more puzzles, just the raw, broken woman underneath. 

Siuan knew it - this was her chance. 

She closed the last bit of distance between them, her hand reaching out. Her fingers wrapped around Moiraine’s wrist, and she felt the cool steel of the revolver press against her skin for a brief moment. Then, with a soft thud, the gun slipped from the huntress’ hand and hit the floor. 

Without overthinking, Siuan wrapped her arms around Moiraine, instinctively pulling her into a tight embrace. 

At first, she stiffened, her body tense against Siuan’s. But it didn’t last. In an instant, it happened. Her rigid composure crumbled like a sandcastle swept away by the tide. All that cold control, all that strength she’d clung to so desperately - suddenly gone. 

Moiraine collapsed against Siuan, her face pressing into her shoulder, her breath hitching in ragged, uneven gasps as she finally let herself fall apart.

Silent sobs tore through the woman, shuddering through her body with every breath. Siuan felt each of them like a blow against her chest, chipping away at her own defenses she didn’t even realize she’d built around herself. 

Her grip tightened, one hand cradling the back of Moiraine’s head as her fingers brushed through the soft strands of her hair. “It’s alright,” she murmured, inhaling the scent of lavender that clung the woman. “I’ve got you. You’re safe”

The huntress held onto her tightly, fingers twisted in the back of Siuan’s shirt like she was holding on for dear life. She didn’t speak, but Siuan felt how her body shook as all that weight she’d been carrying hit.

For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world just… stopped. Time stood still, the room shrinking down to just the two of them, nothing else. 

Siuan held on, barely breathing herself and not daring to speak. She wasn’t sure there even was anything she could say. Words felt too small, too useless against the rawness of what was happening. So, she stayed quiet, anchored, keeping Moiraine right here, keeping her from slipping into whatever dark place had its grip on her.

Little by little, the huntress’ breathing began to slow, the harshness of her sobs easing into softer, shallower breaths. She didn’t pull away, though, and Siuan wasn’t about to let go first either. 

After what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Moiraine finally leaned back, her fingers loosening their grip on Siuan’s back. Her eyes - those deep, mysterious eyes that always seemed to hold a thousand secrets - looked at Siuan, searching, uncertain, like she couldn’t quite tell if this moment was real or just a fragile dream. 

“I can’t go back,” Moiraine choked out. Fresh tears streaked down her cheeks, shining in the dim light. “I can’t.” 

“Hey now,” Siuan murmured, her voice a quiet rumble. “Ain’t nobody gonna make you do a damn thing you don’t want to. You got my word on that.” 

Moiraine just sat there, tears slipping down her cheeks. It was maybe the most real thing Siuan had ever seen.

Her heart clenched so hard it felt like someone had reached in and wrung it out. She’d never imagined she’d see Moiraine like this, not in a million years. The huntress always seemed so cold, so put-together, like she was carved from ice. But now, with tears falling, she looked… human, vulnerable, fragile. And that sent a fierce, protective surge through Siuan, something she couldn’t ignore if she tried.

Before she could even think it through, Siuan reached out and brushed a thumb over the tear trailing down Moiraine’s cheek. Her fingers were rough, scarred from years of hard living, but she kept her touch as soft as she could manage. It felt right, like it had been waiting to happen. And damn if it didn’t feel natural, as if some part of her had just snapped into place.

Moiraine froze at the contact, her body tensing for a heartbeat. Her lashes fluttered, and Siuan figured she’d pull away. But she didn’t. She just sat there, still and quiet, as if testing the touch, trying to make sense of it.

Then, out of nowhere, the huntress’ face hardened. “Swear it.” 

Before Siuan could even register the shift, the woman shuffled free, backing up and gaining distance. The tenderness that had hung in the air a second ago vanished like thin air. There was a sudden change in her demeanor, a sudden rigidity in her posture again. She wiped her cheeks dry with one hasty movement, and when she looked up again, her eyes were hard, filled with a fierce resolve.

“Swear it,” she repeated.

Siuan blinked, momentarily thrown. “Swear what?”

“That you won’t reveal my identity.“ The huntress’ voice was steady now, all that rawness buried deep under layers of steel again.

Siuan nodded slowly, still trying to piece together what had changed and where this shift in Moiraine’s mood had come from. “Yeah, I told you that. You got my word.”

“No.” Moiraine shook her head, almost like she was correcting a mistake. “That’s not enough. You have to swear it.” 

Siuan frowned, shrugging, not quite sure where the woman was going with this. “Yeah, alright,” she said. “I swear it.”

But apparently, that didn’t cut it either. Moiraine shook her head again, more forcefully this time. 

Without a word, she reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a finely crafted dagger. The blade gleamed in the light, sharp and menacing as she held it between them.

Siuan blinked, her eyes following the curve of the dagger, and then it clicked. She understood now. Despite the tension, she couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth. “A blood oath, huh?” she drawled, letting a bit of humor slip in. “Ain’t that a bit dramatic?”

But the huntress’ gaze didn’t waver. Her eyes flashed, a fierce determination blazing in them, cutting through any hint of levity. Before Siuan could say another word, Moiraine raised the blade to her own palm, dragging it in a steady, unflinching motion. A line of crimson appeared almost instantly, welling up and trailing down her fingers. 

“Swear it.” She offered the dagger to Siuan, handle first. 

Siuan’s smirk faded and her eyes widened, watching the blood drip from Moiraine’s hand. That woman clearly wasn’t playing games. Hell, if anyone else had pulled something like this, Siuan would’ve laughed them off, maybe even made some smartass remark about them being out of their damn mind. But there was something about the way Moiraine looked at her, those bottomless eyes, that dead serious expression… it made Siuan reach for the blade without a second thought, as if she’d been pulled in by something she didn’t quite understand.

She took the dagger, feeling the cold metal bite into her flesh as she dragged it slowly across the inside of her hand. The sting was quick, sharp, a jolt of clarity that cleared everything else away. Blood welled up immediately, pooling in her palm.

Moiraine extended her hand and Siuan clasped it firmly, their cuts pressing together. An unspoken understanding settled between them, like they’d bound their fates in that one gesture.

“I swear,” Siuan whispered solemnly, ignoring the blood dripping down onto the bed below in dark, silent splatters. “Your secret’s safe with me. Come hell or high water.”

For a moment, it felt like everything around them had faded and all she could see was Moiraine. It was like the woman had drawn closer without moving an inch, her features magnified in Siuan’s mind - the faint birthmarks on her left cheek, the pale freckles around her nose, all the small details she hadn’t noticed before. She was… breathtaking, strong and fragile all at once, and damn if Siuan didn’t feel that peculiar pull again. 

A thick silence hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of their pact. Moiraine stared down at their bloodied hands, her grip loosening slowly, almost reluctantly, before she finally let go. As she pulled away, the rigid tension in her shoulders seemed to ease, if only a bit. 

But then, as if the realization of what they’d just done struck her all at once, Moiraine’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “And I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Siuan cut in without a flicker of hesitation. She wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline speaking for her or where all this resolve and certainty had come from. Either way, she felt electric, euphoric even, like every nerve in her body was suddenly buzzing. 

The huntress looked away, wiping her eyes. Siuan wanted to move, to say more, to offer comfort in whatever form she could, but she felt rooted to the spot, transfixed by all that Moiraine was and all that she wasn’t. It was only when she caught sight of blood still dripping from Moiraine’s hand that she snapped back into action.

“Here,” she muttered, grabbing a cloth draped over a nearby chair and wrapping it around Moiraine’s hand. “Can’t have you bleedin’ all over the place.”

The huntress’ eyes tracked her movements, watching as Siuan worked with a careful touch. There was a flicker of gratitude in her expression, but something else too. Something deeper. Siuan could feel it, like a weight between them. A strange tension that wasn’t just about the blood or the oath. 

“Why’d you do it?”

Moiraine’s question wasn’t exactly clear, but Siuan didn’t need more to get it. She knew what the woman meant; Why had she taken the oath? Why had she sworn to protect Moiraine’s secret, a secret that could make her rich if she so chose?

Siuan’s hands stilled as she finished tying the cloth around the wounded hand. She looked up, meeting the huntress’ searching eyes. The truth was, she didn’t have a perfect answer. She wasn’t even sure there was one. She could think of a hundred reasons, half of them practical, the other half too tangled up in emotions she didn’t know how verbalize.

“Because…,” she started, pausing to find the words. “Because you needed me to. And sometimes you just gotta trust someone, even when it doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

The huntress nodded but stayed silent, her expression unreadable. A moment of silence passed, and only after a while, the she found her voice again. “Your hand… it’s still bleeding, too.” 

Siuan blinked, almost like she’d forgotten about the cut across her palm. “Right,” she mumbled, though the sting of her wound was the last thing on her mind.

“There are fresh bandages in the other room,” Moiraine said, glancing toward the doorway. “In the drawer by the bed.” 

Siuan nodded, recalling the stash from her previous stay in the cabin.  “I’ll get it patched up… and get that tea brewin’ for you.” 

Just as she was turning for the door, Siuan’s eyes landed on something glinting against the floorboards. She crouched, picking up the piece and turning it in her fingers before holding it out to Moiraine. “Here,” she said, “your necklace.” 

Moiraine took it with a careful, almost reverent touch, fingers tracing the blue gemstone like it was something sacred. “It’s not a necklace,” she said, voice gone soft.  

Siuan raised an eyebrow. “No?” 

“No,” the huntress murmured, “it’s a head piece.” There was something behind her eyes, something far-off and sentimental, like she’d just opened a door to a memory she’d kept locked up tight.

“Looks real pretty,” Siuan muttered, the compliment feeling awkward as soon as it left her mouth. She wasn’t the type to know much about fancy things, but she could tell this was more than just some trinket to Moiraine.

When the huntress didn’t respond, Siuan took it as her cue to step outside, closing the door quietly behind her. Back in the main room, the kettle was already screaming on the stove with a shrill whistle. Odd how the sound seemed to fit her mind just then - on edge, frantic, buzzing with every damned thing that had gone down today.

Siuan tore a strip of bandage and wrapped it around her hand, rough and fast, not caring much for neatness. The fabric spotted red almost instantly, but the bleeding was already slowing. The cut was deep, a clean slice from her index finger down to the base of her palm, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. She’d had worse. This one would heal soon enough, leaving nothing but a scar… and a permanent reminder of this day. Of Moiraine, and everything that came with her. 

Ignoring the sting in her hand, Siuan moved over to the kettle, yanking it off the heat and pouring the water into a mug she’d set out. “One spoonful, five minutes, three drops,” she muttered, recalling every word Moiraine had told her before things went off the rails.

It was almost absurd, really; standing there in silence, brewing tea like it was just any other day, when just minutes ago, her world had tilted on its axis. 

Uncovering a lost princess and taking a blood oath hadn’t exactly been on her agenda for the day, but the shiver that ran through her wasn’t from regret. It came from the startling realization of just how quickly she had bound herself to Moiraine in such a way, willingly and with barely a second thought. Something about this woman had gotten under her skin, changed her, rewired something deep down in her brain that she couldn’t quite grasp. 

The revelation of Moiraine’s secret should’ve knocked her off balance, should’ve changed things. After all, Moiraine was royalty. Lost, hidden, but royalty all the same. A damn princess. But strangely, this didn’t change a thing about how Siuan felt about her. She’d suspected the truth all along, but there wasn’t a hint of satisfaction in being right. All she could think about was the raw terror she’d seen in the woman’s eyes. And for some reason, she wanted to keep Moiraine from looking like that ever again.

Siuan sighed. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. She’d spent years keeping folks at arm’s length, building walls, avoiding entanglements. It was easier that way, safer for everyone involved. And yet here she was, bound by blood to a woman who stirred something in her she thought had long been buried.

She shook off the thoughts as best as she could, finishing the tea and carrying it back to the bedroom. “One cup of perfect tea, just as ordered,” she announced, her voice aiming for casual, but the weight of everything dragged it down, leaving no room for the lightness she’d intended.

“Thank you.” Moiraine took the cup, lifting it to her lips for a cautious sip.

“What’s in it?” Siuan settled on the edge of the bed, trying to distract herself with conversation.

“Dried ginseng, yarrow and burdock root extract,” the huntress explained in that measured tone of hers. “It’s meant to bring down fever.” 

Siuan nodded, tucking the information away. “And back in Saint Denis, what’d you take there?”

There was a slight pause before Moiraine answered, her voice almost hesitant. “Anti-venom. At least, that’s what he claimed. Said it would help with snake bites.”

Siuan’s brow lifted in suspicion. “Who exactly claimed that?” Already, her mind was painting a picture of some shady back-alley vendor peddling mystery concoctions to desperate folks. After all, Siuan had found Moiraine near the trapper and not anywhere close to a proper clinic. 

Moiraine’s silence gave her all the confirmation she needed.

“Christ, Moiraine,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “What the hell were you thinkin’… trustin’ some quack like that? That stuff could’ve killed you.” 

Siuan could only guess what kind of crap the huntress had swallowed. Might as well have been horse piss and some random weeds. No wonder she’d looked even worse after taking it. Still, Siuan got it. Desperation pushed people into corners, made them do reckless things. At least Moiraine was upright now, not slumped over her saddle like hours ago, looking like death warmed over.

Siuan scratched at the back of her head, debating whether to press the issue or let it lie. Curiosity won out. “Your past… that why you steer clear of towns? Avoid doctors?”

Moiraine’s gaze dropped, her nod so faint Siuan might’ve missed it if she hadn’t been watching closely. But that was it. No stories, no explanations. Just silence, heavy and awkward, stretching between them like a storm on the verge of breaking.

Clearing her throat, Siuan figured she might as well wade right in. “So, uh… what should I call you now? Moiraine or Isabeau?”

“Moiraine,” the huntress replied, quick and firm. But damn if she didn’t keep the rest locked up tight. Even with her secret spilled out in the open, Moiraine held her cards close, seemingly unwilling to lay the whole hand out. It gnawed at Siuan, but she bit her tongue and let it be.

“Moiraine it is.” Siuan gave a small nod, careful not to push against any raw nerves lying between them.

The huntress’ gaze lifted to hers, eyes flickering with something caught between relief and doubt. “You really won’t tell anyone?”

“Your secret’s safe with me. Remember?” Siuan held up her sorry excuse for wound care, the blood-stained bandage doing a poor job of hiding just how sloppy her first aid work had been. 

Moiraine’s eyes lingered on her hand, and Siuan could see her struggle, like she was weighing every reason to hold back against the urge to let someone in. Finally, a shaky breath escaped the huntress and she nodded.

Siuan offered a small, tentative smile, hoping to bridge the gap. “Look, I get if you don’t trust me all the way yet. Even after, y’know… the oath.” She fumbled with the fabric around her hand, trying not to make a big deal out of it. “But I’m here to back you up, if you’ll let me.”

Moiraine studied her, long and hard, like she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the idea. “You’ve already done more than I could ask,” she murmured. 

And then, silence.

Siuan shifted, feeling the weight of it. “You, uh… wanna talk about it? How you ended up here and all?”

Moiraine hesitated, stretching the moment until Siuan was sure the answer would be a polite decline. But instead, after a long pause, the woman spoke. “One day, I suppose. If I’m going to trust anyone…,” she said, then finished quietly, “it might as well be you.”

Siuan hadn’t expected that. “Glad to hear it,” she replied, her tone soft, almost too gentle for her own liking. 

Moiraine gave a small nod, then looked away, her gaze settling on the window, her expression unreadable. “I’m sorry about earlier… pointing the gun at you.”

“Can’t say I blame you.” Siuan chuckled softly. “I’d probably react the same if someone stumbled upon my deepest secrets.” She gave her a lopsided grin, a flicker of mischief lighting her eyes in a first real attempt at humor since the day had gone sideways.

“Still, it wasn’t right.”

“Water under the bridge,” Siuan shrugged, waving it off with a casual flick of her hand.  “Just maybe don’t make a habit of it.”

A small smile tugged at Moiraine’s lips, so slight it almost didn’t happen. “I’ll try.”

For the first time in a while, it felt like the quiet between them wasn’t so heavy.

Chapter Text

The next few days had passed in a quiet, strange rhythm.

Siuan found herself outside more often than not, chopping wood until her arms ached or tracking down whatever game she could find - anything to keep her hands moving and her mind just quiet enough. Each swing of the axe, each silent step through the forest, was a welcome distraction from thinking too much about... well, everything.  

Yet, no matter how hard she worked, the distraction never lasted long. Every time she made her way back to the cabin, her gaze would wander, drawn back to Moiraine like a needle pulled north. She’d catch herself studying the other woman, taking in every hint of color that returned to those cheeks, every flicker of strength sneaking back into her frame. The fever was finally loosening its grip, the poison fading bit by bit. Soon enough, Moiraine wouldn’t need her here anymore.

The thing was, Siuan couldn’t decide if that fact was a comfort or a little death of its own. The thought definitely didn’t bring the sense of relief she’d expected or hoped for. 

The huntress was healing just fine, but she wasn’t quite the same woman Siuan had first met in the wilds. Her sharp edge, her steely gaze, her clipped tone, it all had softened somehow, as if the fever had melted away more than just the poison. Something had shifted since that night. Since the secret, since the oath. But it wasn’t a bad shift, though, not necessarily. More like steel turning into cotton. 

Siuan didn’t quite know how to deal with it, though. Every time her thoughts wandered too close to whatever was simmering between them, it felt like she was walking a tightrope over a canyon, one wrong move away from plunging into something she couldn’t control.

Late one afternoon, after hours in the woods, she returned with two rabbits slung over her shoulder. Their weight was grounding, felt like a small, solid victory in a world that had begun to feel increasingly uncertain and confusing. 

She pushed open the cabin door and paused, surprised. 

Moiraine was out of bed, fully dressed, sitting by the fire with a natural elegance. Gone were the layers of blankets, replaced by a plain dress that matched the blue of her eyes. It clung to her figure in a way that felt both simple and unreachably elegant. Her pose was graceful, her posture straight but not stiff, but there was a softness there, too, one that had worked its way in where Siuan once saw only iron and ice. She looked… unguarded, a kind of open vulnerability that made something twist low in Siuan’s gut.

“You’re up,” Siuan managed, letting the door close behind her as she wrestled her face back to something resembling calm. She tried to keep it casual, keep the rough edge to her voice, but damn if her heart didn’t do a little leap seeing Moiraine back on her feet. 

The huntress looked up. “I’m feeling better,” she replied, her voice carrying that usual strength Siuan hadn’t realized she’d missed until it was back. “Thought it was time I stopped lazing about.”

“Reckoned you’d be sick of my cookin’ any day now,” Siuan answered with a crooked grin.

“It’s grown on me,” Moiraine said and her lips curled up just a touch, barely a smile, but something close.

Siuan let out a low chuckle, setting the rabbits down on the counter and trying to focus on anything but the warmth in her chest. “Well, thanks. That’s high praise, comin’ from you.”

She risked another quick glance in Moiraine’s direction. Her presence made Siuan’s pulse quicken despite her best efforts to keep things under control. There was something about her that was undeniably beautiful. It was more than just her looks, though that was part of it. It was the way the woman carried herself, the way her presence filled the room without saying a word. 

For one wild, reckless second, Siuan wanted to reach across the space between them, touch her hand, just do… anything. But she tore her eyes away, feeling foolish, and let the silence settle in instead. 

She forced herself to look busy, untying the rabbits with quick, practiced fingers, letting the familiar motions take over as she avoided looking the woman’s way again. She tried to focus on her task, tried to not acknowledge the huntress, hoping that the silence would shield her from the conversation she knew was coming eventually - and sure as hell it did. 

“You’re quiet today,” Moiraine said after a while. 

Siuan shrugged, throwing a half-smile her way. “Ain’t much to say, I guess.”

“That’s not like you.”

Siuan forced a chuckle, but it came out thin. She wanted to crack a joke, maybe lighten the mood with one of her usual quips, but the words got stuck somewhere between her heart and her throat. So the silence lingered, filling the room until it felt charged with all the things they weren’t saying.

Then, unprompted and out of the blue, Moiraine’s voice cut through the quiet.

“It wasn’t always… this,” she said, gesturing vaguely around the cabin. “I come from a place where expectations were… suffocating, where political appearances and influence mattered more than anything, more than lives.”

Siuan stilled, her hands freezing over the rabbits. 

This wasn’t just small talk, not just an idle comment. This was the most personal Moiraine had ever been and Siuan acutely understood that this was the moment, this was the very event-turning moment where the woman finally trusted her with pieces of her past. 

Without a word, Siuan moved toward the fire and took a seat across from the huntress, close enough to listen, far enough to give her space. She nodded gently, encouraging her to go on, letting Moiraine take the lead without pushing. 

Moiraine’s gaze dropped to her hands, fingers entwining nervously. “I was… well, I was meant to be queen. Next in line for the throne.” 

“Queen, huh? Impressive,” Siuan said slowly, trying to process the revelation.

Moiraine took a deep breath, her composure wavering just a bit. “My uncle is the current king. A vicious and brutal man with exacting standards. He had strong beliefs about how an heiress to the throne should act; cold-hearted, obedient, flawless… an emotionless puppet to his command. He had… methods to enforce that.” 

Siuan’s jaw tightened. She didn’t like where this was going. “Methods?” she echoed. 

Moiraine nodded, her gaze distant. “His discipline was… painful. He took pleasure in breaking me down, ensuring I knew my place.” 

“Son of a…,” Siuan muttered, biting back the rest. “No one deserves that.”

“The night I ran away…,” the huntress continued, “…he nearly… he tried…” 

Moiraine’s voice faltered, and she took a shaky breath. Siuan caught the flicker of something dark in her eyes, a shadow of a memory she’d clearly tried to bury. 

Siuan didn’t need the details to feel a surge of anger flare hot and fast at the thought of anyone hurting Moiraine. King or not, if that man ever came within her spitting distance, she’d gladly put that bastard in the ground.

After the pause to regain her composure, the huntress continued speaking. “I fled into the darkness and stumbled into the river. The current swept me away, and for a moment, I thought it was over, that the water would carry me to my end. But instead, I ended up here.”

“Hell, Moiraine, I…,” Siuan began but paused, searching for words that didn’t feel empty. “I’m real glad you made it out alive.” 

The other woman offered a sad smile. “It’s in the past now. I’ve built a new life here, simple but mine.”

“Your parents… did they know?” Siuan asked cautiously. 

Moiraine gave a small, bitter huff. “My mother did, I think,” she admitted, her eyes glistening. “But she never intervened, didn’t dare to speak of anything that might tarnish the family name or challenge my uncle. And everyone else around him… they were either loyal enough or afraid enough to look the other way.” 

“And your father?” 

“He was different,” Moiraine said softly. “Distant, but he loved me in his own way. He gave me the headpiece you found.” 

Siuan nodded slowly. “Sounds like he cared.”

“He did,” Moiraine agreed. “But he was too caught up in his own affairs to see what was happening to me.”

Silence hung between them for a moment, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Moiraine’s fingers traced absent patterns along her dress, almost like she was grounding herself in the moment with these motions. “I have a younger sister, too,” she said after a while, a faint, genuine smile flickering across her face before fading.

“Yeah?” Siuan prompted softly.

“She was so young when I left… too little to take her with me,” her voice was laced with sadness, the kind that seeped in deep, that lingered. “I worry about her every day. Leaving her behind with these monsters… it’s a guilt I can’t shake”

“You did what you had to,” Siuan said softly. “Survival ain’t somethin’ to feel guilty about.”

Moiraine nodded, though her hands clasped tightly enough that her knuckles turned white. “The couple who found me took me in, treated my wounds. They couldn’t have children of their own, and when I told them everything, they promised to keep me safe, raise me as their own.” 

“A fresh start,” Siuan murmured. 

“Yes,” the huntress agreed, a quiet ache threading through her words. “They became my family, taught me how to hunt, how live out here, how to… be someone else. But they both passed away a few years ago. First my father, then my mother. Since then… it’s just been me.”

Siuan swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in her throat. She could hear the loneliness in Moiraine’s voice, the weight of loss that mirrored her own in ways she hadn’t expected. “They sound like damn good people,” she said gently.

“They were.”

Siuan hesitated before asking, “So, what’s your plan now? Layin’ low here and hopin’ the world forgets?”

“Something like that,” Moiraine said, her gaze drifting back to the fire. 

Siuan’s eyes followed, watching the flames as they popped and danced. “You ever think about facin’ your uncle? Settin’ things right?” 

A shadow creeped into Moiraine’s expression. “Returning there would be my doom. My uncle is powerful, and his reach is great, even nowadays. Besides, I’m not sure I could control myself if I saw him again.” 

“Well, if you ever decide to, you’ve got an outlaw who’s pretty handy in a fight and a darn good gunslinger.”

Moiraine turned to look at her, disbelief and a touch of surprise coloring her features. “You’d fight for me?” she asked softly, her gaze searching Siuan’s face for any sign of jest.

“For you? Sure,” Siuan replied with a casual shrug, though her heart pounded in her chest. “I’ve done crazier things.”

“Why would you doing this?” she asked quietly. “Why do you care?”

Siuan hesitated for a moment, the usual confidence faltering as she grappled with her own feelings. “Maybe because I see a bit of myself in you,” she admitted with a half-smile. “Or maybe I’m just a fool. Either way, I reckon everyone deserves a friend. Even a runaway princess.”

The huntress seemed glued to Siuan’s face, as if trying to read the truth behind her words. Finding no deceit, she allowed a weak smile. “Thank you, Siuan.”

Silence settled between them once more, heavy but not uncomfortable. The weight of Moiraine’s story lingered in the air, and Siuan’s mind churned with thoughts of vengeance against a king she’d probably never meet. Protective instincts roared to life within her. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt responsible for this woman now. Blood oath or not, she wanted to see Moiraine happy, unhurt, safe.

After a while, the huntress’ voice pulled Siuan from her thoughts. “Tell me about yourself,” she prompted out of nowhere. 

Caught off guard, Siuan raised an eyebrow. “Not much to tell,” she drawled, leaning back in her chair. “Just a simple woman with a knack for findin’ trouble.”

“You’re more than that,” Moiraine countered gently. “You’re different than I expected.”

“That so?” 

“Yes,” Moiraine affirmed. “In a good way.”

A warmth spread through Siuan’s chest at the compliment, unexpected yet not unwelcome. She chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Most folks think I’m just an asshole with a bad mouth and a worse attitude,” she said with a wry smile. 

“There’s more to you than that,” Moiraine insisted, her gaze steady and earnest. “I can see it.”

Siuan felt a faint blush creep up her neck, quickly masked by a smirk. “Maybe. But it’s a long story.”

“We have time,” Moiraine encouraged, her eyes inviting Siuan to share.

Taking a deep breath, Siuan decided to let one of her own walls down, just a bit. “Alright then,” she began. “Grew up in Lagras, down in the swamps. Ma passed when I was knee-high, Pa raised me. He was a fisherman, taught me how to navigate the bayous like the back of my hand. Lost him as well, way too soon.” 

“I’m sorry,” Moiraine said sincerely.

Siuan shrugged, though the casual gesture didn’t quite reflect how she really felt. “Ended up on the streets after that. Not many good options for a girl alone in this world. That’s when Gareth and his gang found me. Took me in, showed me the ropes. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Do you regret it? Joining the gang?”

Siuan pondered the question. “I dunno. Sometimes, maybe. But it’s the life I knew, the chance I got… and the only family I have left. Didn’t see many other options back then.”

“And now?”

“Now?” she echoed, glancing at the woman beside her as if she held the answer Siuan was searching for. “Now I’m not so sure.”

Moiraine nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps we all reach a point where we question the paths we’ve taken.” 

Siuan felt a connection in that moment, a shared understanding that transcended words. “Do you ever miss it? Your old life, I mean,” she asked, genuinely curious what the huntress had meant with her statement. 

“Sometimes I miss the good parts,” she confessed. “My sister, my father… the gardens where we used to play hide and seek. The way the sunlight filtered through the stained glass in the palace chapel, painting the floors with colors like a kaleidoscope. And I miss my horses. I love these animals.”

“Sounds real nice, all that,” Siuan remarked softly, picturing the scenes in her mind.

“It was,” Moiraine agreed. “But gilded cages are still cages. I have no desire to return to that life or claim the throne.”

“I get that,” Siuan said, nodding slowly. “Freedom’s worth more than all the gold in the world.”

For a moment, nothing but the crackle of the fire filled the room. Siuan felt a strange sense of peace, as if a weight she hadn’t realized she was carrying had been lifted. However, after a few moments, a thought struck her. 

“Hey, do you speak other languages?” she asked, breaking the quiet.

“I do,” Moiraine smiled, a bit sentimentally. 

Siuan grinned, curious now. “Mind sayin’ somethin’ in uh…”

The woman snickered at that and finished Siuan’s pause. “…French. I was born in Luxembourg. French is my native tongue, but I’m also fluent in German.” 

Siuan’s eyebrows shot up in admiration. “Well, ain’t you full of surprises,” she said with a grin. “Now say somethin’.”  

The huntress blushed a little bit. “It’s been a while since I’ve spoken it aloud,” she admitted, almost a bit nervously. 

“Aw, c’mon,” Siuan encouraged. “Don’t leave me hangin’.”

Moiraine hesitated for a moment before she took a breath and began to speak. “Ta présence me rappelle que j’ai un cœur.” 

The words flowed smoothly, rich and lyrical, sending a pleasant shiver down Siuan’s spine. “Well, I’ll be damned,” she muttered appreciatively, her grin widened. “That sounded fancy. What’s it mean?”

But instead of an answer, Moiraine’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she shrugged playfully. “Perhaps I’ll tell you one day,” she teased. “You’ll have to stick around to find out.” 

“Is that so?” Siuan’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re a sly one.” 

“Maybe,” the huntress admitted, a genuine, wide smile gracing her features.

For a moment, Siuan was captivated by the rare sight of Moiraine’s smile. It was as if a ray of sunshine had broken through the clouds, and she wanted nothing more than to bask in it a little longer.

But just as quickly as it appeared, the smile faded, replaced by a more reserved expression again. Moiraine glanced away, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry,” she murmured. “It’s just… been a long time since I’ve had company.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Siuan quipped lightly. “You’re such a delight.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“Not at all,” Siuan replied earnestly. “But seriously, you should get out more. The world’s got a lot to offer.”

The huntress sighed softly. “Not exactly safe for me,” she reminded gently.

Siuan leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “Maybe there are ways around that. Ever thought about… I dunno, joinin’ up with a group that could offer some protection?”

Moiraine arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“My gang,” Siuan explain. “We’re a mixed bunch, but we look out for each other. Like a family. It’s not perfect, but could be a fresh start for you. You’d have people around, misfits and outcasts, just like us.”

Moiraine’s gaze softened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. “I appreciate the offer,” she said slowly. “But I’m not sure I belong there.”

Siuan felt a pang of disappointment but tried not to show it. She wanted to argue, wanted to tell the woman that she didn’t have to stay alone all her life. But she couldn’t. She didn’t know how to say what needed to be said without opening herself up to things she wasn’t ready for.

“I get it,” Siuan said instead. “Just… think about it. Can’t hurt to have options.”

“I will,” Moiraine promised softly.

An awkward silence followed. Siuan cleared her throat, desperate to change the topic and lighten the mood. “You know, I still can’t get over how that French sounded. That phrase you said earlier - was it somethin’ nice?” 

“It might have been.” 

Siuan’s grin returned. “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” 

“Not tonight,” Moiraine teased lightly. 

“You’re gonna keep me in suspense, huh?” 

“Perhaps.”

“Alright, I see how it is,” Siuan said with feigned resignation. “Reckon I’ll just have to learn it myself to find out.”

“Maybe I’ll teach you one day,” the huntress quipped. “But only if you’re a good student.” 

“Hey, I’m a quick learner,” Siuan shot back confidently.

“We’ll see about that,” Moiraine teased.

Siuan felt her heart skip a beat at the implication. Clearing her throat once more, she stood up, suddenly needing to break the intensity of the moment. “Well, I should get these rabbits prepped before it gets too late,” she announced, gesturing toward the counter. 

“Do you need any help?” Moiraine offered, beginning to rise.

“Nah, I got it,” Siuan assured her. “You rest, I insist.” 

Siuan moved over to the carcasses, rolling up her sleeves as she began to work on dinner. The repetitive motions were soothing, giving her a chance to process the whirlwind of emotions stirring within her. All Moiraine had told her, all she had revealed that night… it kept Siuan’s mind busy

“Siuan?” 

“Yeah?” Siuan glanced up, snapping out of her reverie.  

“Thank you,” Moiraine said, her eyes reflecting the sincerity of her words. 

“For what?”

“For listening. For… being here.” 

“Anytime.”

Chapter Text

Siuan stood over the stovetop, stirring the pot as the hearty stew bubbled and thickened. The cabin was filled with the rich scent of simmering meat and wild herbs, a warm blend of aromas that mixed with the smoke from the burning wood. But her mind? Well, her mind was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere wrapped up in the talk she’d just had with Moiraine.

The huntress had finally let her in, peeling back layers to reveal the shadows that haunted her past. Siuan still couldn’t quite figure what she’d done to deserve that kind of trust, but she felt an overwhelming need to safeguard it. Every second of it was burned into her mind, every word, every sad smile. It all wove a web around her heart. 

Tonight, Moiraine had chosen to stay outside her bedroom for the first time. Instead, she was seated by the hearth, staring thoughtfully into the flames. Siuan stole a glance over her shoulder, watching her just long enough to wonder what was going on behind those pretty blue eyes of hers.

Siuan let out a small, frustrated huff. The spoon scraped harder against the bottom of the pot than it should’ve, her grip on it probably tight enough to crack bones. None of this was supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to care this much, to feel this much. But maybe, if she was being honest, she hadn’t stood a chance from the start.

It’d been there from the very beginning, back when they’d argued over that deer in the woods. She’d felt it since then; a pull she didn’t want to feel, one she’d tried to shove down to where her other unspoken desires and what-ifs went to die. And yet, here she was, cooking stew in this secluded cabin she hadn’t planned to ever return to, bewitched by a woman who’d turned her world upside down without even trying. 

A soft creak from behind snapped her out of it, brought her back to where her hand was still gripping that spoon too tight. Siuan didn’t even have to look back. She knew it was Moiraine, rising from her seat, steps as quiet as the snowfall outside.

“Still insisting you don’t need any help over there?” 

Siuan glanced back, loosening her grip on the spoon. “Got everything under control,” she replied with a forced smirk. “Wouldn’t want you messing’ with my secret recipe.”

One of Moiraine’s brows arched, a playful look lighting up her face. “Is that so? Last I recall, I had to remind you that seasoning involves more than just drowning everything in salt.”

“Details, details,” Siuan drawled, waving off the jab like it didn’t faze her.

“Indeed,” the huntress murmured, stepping close enough to peer into the pot. Her shoulder brushed Siuan’s arm. “Though I must admit, it does smell rather delicious.” 

A flush rose up Siuan’s cheeks. Whether from the compliment or the woman’s proximity, she couldn’t tell. “Well, it’s ‘bout the only thing I know how to make without burnin’ the place to the ground,” she quipped. 

Moiraine tilted her head, her gaze lingering on Siuan’s face a heartbeat longer than necessary. “I’d say you’ve mastered it, then.”

An odd little flutter stirred low in Siuan’s chest, enough to make her clear her throat and turn her focus back to the stew, hoping Moiraine didn’t catch her flustered state. “You’ll be the judge of that soon enough.”

With hands just steady enough, Siuan ladled the stew into two bowls, focusing not to spill anything. Handing one to the huntress, she couldn’t help but notice the way their fingers brushed, another spark she tried to ignore. She settled into the chair across from Moiraine, gripping her own bowl like a lifeline.

For a while, they ate in silence, with nothing but the gentle clink of spoons and the crackle of the fire filling the cabin. Every so often, Siuan let her gaze drift over to the other woman, catching the way the firelight softened her features and brought out golden strands hidden in her dark hair. And each time she looked, that tightness in her chest grew a little more insistent.

After a few bites, the huntress looked up, a small smile playing at her lips. “This is wonderful,” she said sincerely. “You might have a hidden talent for cooking after all.”

Siuan shrugged. “Wouldn’t go that far. I’m a one-trick pony in the kitchen.”

“Well,” Moiraine replied, taking another spoonful with a quiet smile, “it’s a very good trick.”

They finished up the meal without much more dialouge, and Siuan got to her feet, gathering up the dishes, needing something to keep her hands busy before the quiet got to her.

“I can help with that,” the huntress offered, starting to stand.

“Nah, I’ve got it. You relax. Enjoy the fire while it’s still burnin’ hot. I insist.”

“Very well,” Moiraine said, settling back into her chair. “But don’t hesitate to call if you need an extra hand.” 

As she moved about the small kitchen area, washing up, Siuan hummed a melody, a comforting tune her father used to sing. It was an old habit, one that surfaced when her mind was elsewhere. And tonight, her thoughts were entirely consumed by the woman sitting just a few feet away. 

“That’s a lovely song,” Moiraine commented.

Siuan glanced over her shoulder, a bit startled. “Didn’t realize I was hummin’ out loud. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No need to apologize. It’s soothing,” the huntress assured her. “Where did you learn it?”

“My old man taught it to me,” she replied fondly. “Used to sing it when the storms rolled in to keep me calm.”

“Your father must have been a good man,” Moiraine said softly.

“He was,” Siuan replied, a touch of melancholy shading her words. “Taught me most of what I know.”

The huntress nodded thoughtfully. “Family has a way of shaping us, for better or worse.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Siuan muttered, her mind drifting to all that Moiraine had shared earlier. 

With the dishes done, Siuan dried her hands on a worn towel, hesitating a moment before looking over at the woman by the fire. Part of her longed to draw closer, to dismantle the remaining barriers between them. Yet another part urged her to run, to put distance between them before she lost herself completely. The push and pull of it all left her feeling raw, something she wasn’t used to and didn’t quite know what to do with. Either way, tonight, the magnetic draw to Moiraine was too strong to resist.

“Mind if I join you?” Siuan asked, already dragging a chair closer before waiting for an answer.

The huntress looked up, and there it was; this strange, newfound softness in her eyes, like a quiet welcome that did funny things to Siuan’s heart. When had the huntress become… so open… so gentle?

Siuan settled into the chair, stretching her legs out toward the fire. “Can’t recall the last time I just sat and did nothin’. Feels kinda strange.”

“Sometimes it’s good to slow down,” Moiraine murmured. “To simply exist in the moment. To just… be.” 

Siuan shot her a sidelong glance, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You sayin’ that like someone who’s talking ’ from experience.”

Moiraine chuckled lightly. “Living out here teaches you a few things.”

Siuan gave a soft, almost absent laugh, her gaze back on the flames. “Does it also teach you how to live with your own thoughts?” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but there it was, hanging in the air between them.

The huntress’ eyes flicked over, one eyebrow lifting like she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “Sometimes,” she answered after a beat. “Other times, it forces you to face things you’d rather ignore.”

“What about now? Are those things closin’ in on you tonight?” Siuan found herself pressing, almost without thinking.

Moiraine hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands folded neatly in her lap. “More than you know.”

“Care to share with the class?” Siuan tried to keep it light, though she knew the conversation ran deeper than casual small talk.

For a moment, the huntress didn’t answer. She took a deep breath, the kind that seemed to steady her. “I’ve spent so long hiding,” she began, her eyes lifting to meet Siuan’s. “Keeping myself guarded because it was safer that way. But lately… I’ve found a reason to lower those walls.”

Siuan’s pulse quickened, her fingers gripping the armrest. “Yeah?”

Moiraine nodded, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Yes. And that reason is sitting right in front of me.”

“Me?” she managed to croak out, her usual swagger nowhere to be found.

“Yes, you,” the huntress affirmed with a gentle smile. “Somewhere along the way, you became important to me. I believe I’ve become important to you as well.”

“I’ll be damned…” 

Siuan felt like the ground had shifted beneath her boots. Emotions she’d worked so damn hard to keep buried now rushed to the surface - hope, fear, desire, that relentless pull. “Moiraine, I…” she started, but the words faltered, leaving her feeling more exposed than she’d ever been.

Before she could even gather her wits, Moiraine’s hand slid down her arm, light as a whisper but sparking a jolt that seemed to run straight to Siuan’s core. Her skin tingled where those fingers had been, a slow burn spreading outward.

Suddenly, in one smooth, graceful move, Moiraine stood, closing the distance between them with a quiet confidence that had Siuan’s pulse kicking up even faster. She eased herself onto Siuan’s lap, her hands settling on her shoulders, gentle but grounding. 

The closeness stole every bit of air from Siuan’s lungs, her heart hammering against her ribcage like it was trying to make up for every breath she’d lost. She felt like she couldn’t think, couldn’t move. Everything narrowed down to the feel of the other woman’s warmth, the solid weight of her in her lap, and the ache that had been building for so long.

Siuan’s hands hovered awkwardly before settling on the huntress’ hips. Her fingers curled into the fabric of Moiraine’s dress, needing something solid to hold onto, something to keep her steady.

“This is… unexpected,” Siuan managed, more breath than words.

“What did you expect?” Moiraine’s reply was low, rich. 

Siuan swallowed, her throat tight, words tangled. “Not… this,” she admitted, her gaze dropping helplessly to Moiraine’s lips, her own parting without her even realizing it. “But I’m not complainin’.” 

“Good,” Moiraine purred. 

Siuan’s heart was pounding so loud she was sure it echoed off the walls. Moiraine’s face was just inches away now, her breath warm against Siuan’s skin. She took in every detail of the woman’s face - so impossibly beautiful, so dangerously close. 

Close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss…

“May I?” Moiraine asked, her gaze locked on Siuan’s with an intensity that made it hard to think. 

All she managed was a shaky nod. She didn’t even care what she was agreeing to, only that the answer was yes, a thousand times yes.

Just as their lips were about to meet, a sudden chill slipped into the room, slicing through the warmth like an invisible blade. The firelight flickered, and shadows stretched longer, twisting over the walls in ways that felt strange.

Siuan stiffened, pulling back slightly. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?” Moiraine’s eyes were still locked on her, unblinking, her expression calm and steady, as though nothing had changed at all.

“The room… it feels colder,” Siuan murmured, glancing around. 

The huntress shrugged lightly, a dismissive gesture. “Perhaps a draft. This cabin is old.”

“Maybe,” Siuan agreed, though the explanation didn’t sit right. There was a subtle itch at the back of her mind that something wasn’t quite right.

“You worry too much,” the huntress said softly, reaching up to brush a curl from Siuan’s face. The touch should have been comforting, but instead, it sent a shiver down her spine, one that had nothing to do with desire. 

“Old habits,” Siuan replied, forcing a grin. “Hard to turn off.”

“Then let me help you,” Moiraine whispered, leaning in once more.

This time, their lips met, but instead of the tentative sweetness Siuan had imagined, the kiss was fierce, almost consuming. There was an urgency to it, a hunger that caught her off guard. Moiraine was greedy, almost possessive, her tongue sweeping forward immediately, pulling Siuan in deeper.

As Moiraine’s hands slid up to cup her face, Siuan felt a sudden jolt. Her fingers were ice-cold, sapping the warmth from her skin in an instant. She pulled back abruptly, her breath hitching as she searched the woman’s eyes. “Your hands… they’re freezing,” she exclaimed, eyes wide.

Moiraine’s face was unreadable, calm in a way that almost felt unnatural. “Are they?” she replied, her tone flat and unsettlingly indifferent. 

“Yes,” Siuan insisted, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. “What’s going on?”

The woman tilted her head ever so slightly, a chilling smile spreading across her face. “Will you love me, Siuan?” she asked, but her voice had a strange resonance, like two voices slipping through each other.

A cold dread seeped into Siuan’s bones. “Moiraine?”

All warmth suddenly drained from the huntress’ expression, her gaze hardening into something that almost felt invasive. “Will you love me like you loved her?”

Siuan’s blood ran cold. She went rigid, every muscle tensing as her mind struggled to process the words. “What did you just say?” she rasped, her throat suddenly dry.

“Will you protect me, Siuan? Or will you let me die like her? Like Marisa?”

That name - Marisa - echoed in her mind like a gunshot. She hadn’t spoken the name in years, hadn’t let anyone close enough to know the truth, to hear about the woman who had once been everything to her. The woman who had been killed, whose death had left Siuan broken in ways she’d never recovered from. 

The fragile intimacy of the moment shattered like glass hitting stone. Siuan jerked back, breaking the contact between them. Her hands dropped from Moiraine’s hips as if burned. The huntress couldn’t know about Marisa. No one knew.

Moiraine’s smile widened, but it was devoid of joy. “Is that why you’re so afraid to feel?” she pressed, her tone almost taunting. “Because you couldn’t save her? Because deep down, you know you’ll fail me too?”

Siuan’s chest tightened, panic clawing at her as she tried to push the woman away, but Moiraine didn’t move, her body suddenly heavy with the weight of a mountain.

Her grip tightened further, fingers digging into Siuan’s shoulders like icy claws. “You can’t run from your past,” the huntress hissed. “You can’t run from your feelings for me either.”

“Let go!” 

“You’re always running, my though girl,” Moiraine’s voice continued, each word cutting deeper. “But you can’t outrun this. You can’t outrun me. You’ll watch me die too, find my rotting corpse. You know it. You’ll be my doom, Siuan. My sweet, painful doom.” Her voice sounded eerily like it was somehow overlapping with another, one Siuan hadn’t heard in years but recognized all too well.

“Enough!” Siuan shouted. She thrashed against the invisible bonds holding her, every fiber of her being fighting to break free. 

The world around her blurred, colors smearing together as the room twisted and spun. Darkness swallowed Moiraine’s creepy smile, consuming everything until there was nothing but an endless void.

Siuan jolted upright, her body drenched in cold sweat, the blanket tangled around her legs. Her heart thundered in her chest as she frantically took in her surroundings. The cabin was quiet, the only sounds the faint crackle of dying embers and the distant hoot of an owl. The chill of the winter night seeped through the cracks in the wooden walls, a welcome reminder that she was, in fact, awake.

“Just a dream,” she whispered hoarsely, dragging trembling hands over her face. “Just a damn dream.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, willing her racing heart to slow down. But the remnants of the nightmare clung to her like a shadow. Everything had felt so real; Moiraine’s ice-cold touch, the haunting accusations, the way Marisa’s name had slipped from the huntress’ lips like a venomous curse. 

“Marisa,” Siuan murmured, the name tasting bitter on her tongue. Memories surged forward; moments shared under moonlit skies, laughter that warmed her soul, and the hollow ache of loss that never fully healed. She clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palms. “It’s my fault,” she confessed to the darkness.

Her gaze drifted to the closed door of Moiraine’s room, and she felt a sudden pang of guilt and fear. The nightmare had torn open old wounds, blurring the lines between past and present. But amidst the turmoil, one thing became crystal clear.

This wasn’t about Marisa; it was about Moiraine. About the feelings she’d tried so hard to ignore, the fear she’d carried like a scar. She was still running - from her past, from her heart, from the fear of loss that shadowed every connection she made. But she was falling for the huntress, bit by bit, piece by piece.

And that was a problem. A big, insurmountable one.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she paced the length of the room, each step muffled against the worn wooden floorboards.

“Dammit all,” she muttered, rubbing her temples as if she could massage away the chaos in her mind. “I can’t do this.” 

The walls seemed to close in, pressing her toward a decision she didn’t want to make but couldn’t avoid. The nightmare had been a cruel reminder of what happened when she let herself care too deeply. She couldn’t let Moiraine be swept into her chaos, couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her hurt, broken, or worse. No, she couldn’t risk history repeating itself.

Siuan knew what she had to do instead. She fumbled for her boots, her fingers shaking as she pulled them on. She then began to gather the rest of her belongings with a sense of finality. Her revolver, her worn journal, her hat; all the tokens of a life spent on the move. Each item she tucked away felt like another brick in the wall she was rebuilding around herself. 

Ever so often, her gaze flickered to Moiraine’s door, half-expecting it to swing open, half-hoping it wouldn’t. Facing her now, after that nightmare, after everything, felt about as appealing as walking into gunfire. The woman didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve to be left like this, but it was better this way. At least, that’s what Siuan kept telling herself, over and over, as if she could make it true.

“Siuan?”  

The quiet voice sliced through the silence. Siuan froze, her back to the source of the sound. She closed her eyes for a moment, bracing herself, steeling her heart to harden just enough to do what she thought she had to do. Slowly, she turned around.

Moiraine stood in the doorway, barely illuminated by the faint morning light that came through the window. Her dark hair fell loose over her shoulders like a river of ink. Her face was calm, nothing like the version in Siuan’s dream. 

“You’re up early,” the woman observed gently, but there was none of the sickeningly soft tone from the nightmare. Her voice was measured, grounded, like herself. 

“Couldn’t sleep no more,” Siuan replied, forcing a casual tone. “Figured I’d get a head start.” 

“On what?” Moiraine’s gaze drifted to the packed satchel.

Siuan swallowed hard. “The road,” she admitted. “Time I moved on.”

For a fleeting second, Moiraine’s mask slipped, a flicker of hurt flashing across her face before she caught it, drawing back into a neutral calm. “I see.”

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Siuan added lamely, rubbing the back of her neck.

“You have a habit of leaving without goodbyes.”

Siuan winced internally. The words struck like a whip, stinging and uncomfortably accurate. “It’s not like that,” she mumbled, grasping for excuses that wouldn’t come.

“Then what is it like?” Moiraine pressed but her tone remained neutral. 

Siuan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the huntress’ gaze pierce through every flimsy reason she could possibly muster. “Look, you’ve been real kind, but you don’t need me hangin’ around. You’re better now. My debts are paid.”

“Is that what this was? A debt to be settled?”

“Yeah,” Siuan forced out, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. “I helped you out, you helped me. We’re square.”

A faint, almost imperceptible tremor flickered in the other woman’s gaze before she lifted her chin and composed herself. “If that’s how you feel, then alright. We’re square.” 

The measured detachment in her response was worse than anger. Siuan had braced herself for resentment, maybe even fury, but this calm acceptance was like salt in an open wound. Moiraine’s walls were back up, and Siuan knew she’d been the one to force them there. And this time, they felt final, unbreakable. 

The silence that followed was heavier than any argument they could have had. Moiraine’s gaze bore into her, waiting, challenging. When Siuan remained silent, the huntress gave a small nod. “Safe travels, then,” she said curtly. 

Siuan opened her mouth to protest, to explain that it was because she cared too much, not too little. She wanted to tell her the truth; that she was terrified of what this was between them, of how deeply she’d come to feel. But she couldn’t. She squeezed her eyes shut, the words in her head a mess of broken syllables she couldn’t bring herself to say.

“You take care of yourself,” Siuan muttered instead, the words inadequate and hollow.

“I always do.” 

Siuan glanced toward the door, her escape route beckoning. Without another word, she adjusted the strap of her satchel and took a step toward it.

“Siuan,” Moiraine’s voice called softly, halting her in her tracks.

“Yes?”

The huntress seemed to hesitate, her eyes tracing Siuan’s face as if she was trying to memorize every line. “If you ever need a place to rest, you know where to find me.”

A lump formed in Siuan’s throat, making it hard to breathe. She gave a curt nod, not trusting herself to speak. Any words she might utter would betray the storm of emotions churning inside her. Yes, leaving felt like tearing herself in two, yet staying seemed just as impossible. So, she did what she’d always known, what she’d become so good at over the years.

She ran.

Chapter Text

Siuan urged her horse down the mountain trail, the icy wind slapping her face like a cold hand. Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes, but she didn’t bother to blink them away. The world blurred into a mix of white and gray, but her mind was far from the snow-crusted road leading her back to camp - all that mattered was still up there in those mountains. 

The scent of lavender still clung to her clothes like a damn curse of the woman she’d left behind. She thought about Moiraine’s secret, her past, the promise she’d made, the oath that had been sealed with their very blood - everything. But here she was, running, riding away, hurting herself and probably hurting Moiraine. 

But what good would it do her to stay anyway? Siuan knew all too well that attachments were risks, a luxury she couldn’t afford. Not in this life. Staying would only bring more trouble, for both of them.  

”Can’t lose what you ain’t got,” she reminded herself, but the words did little to soothe her heart.

Moving forward, never looking back - that was the whole damn point, wasn’t it? A life spent on the run, boots never settling too long in one place, never getting stuck with the ghosts of yesterday. But still… she knew she’d be a fool to think the past didn’t follow her, no matter how many miles she threw behind her. 

The road finally leveled out, and the ragtag sprawl of the gang’s camp spread out with tents and makeshift shelters scattered around the clearing. As Siuan rode in, swinging down from her horse, she could feel eyes tracking her every move. Some were curious, some were sharp and accusing, and despite herself, a pang of guilt twisted in her gut. 

“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” Maksim called out with a wide smirk as Siuan moved through the camp. “Welcome back, stranger.” 

She tipped her hat, smirking right back. “Miss me much, Maks?”

“About as much as I miss a rock in my boot,” he quipped, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of relief to see her again. 

Beside Maksim, Ihvon snorted, giving him a jab with his elbow. “We missed you indeed. Camp’s been downright dull without your charm. Especially the boss might be happy you’e back, been in a tizzy the whole time.“ 

“Ah, Gareth’s always in a tizzy about somethin’,” Siuan replied, waving a dismissive hand. “Keeps him young.” 

“Seriously, better brace yourself. You’re in for it now,” he muttered, nodding toward the main tent. “He’s not exactly crackin’ jokes this time.”

Siuan sighed, tipping her hat back and eyeing the tent like it might bite. “Alright,” she muttered, more to herself than to her companions. “Might as well get this over with.”

Facing an angry Gareth? She’d dealt with worse in her time. But as she neared the tent, Siuan rolled her shoulders, bracing herself for whatever storm brewed behind those canvas walls.

Just as she reached for the flap, it jerked open, and there stood the boss, towering in the doorway like a thundercloud. “Well, if it ain’t the prodigal daughter gracin’ us with her presence,” he drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Siuan met his gaze evenly, chin held high, not giving him an inch.

“Inside. Now,” he snapped, jerking his head toward the tent’s interior.

Suppressing a sigh, she ducked in. Inside, the tent was cramped, cluttered, yet meticulous. Maps lay spread over a rough wooden table, covered with markings and notes in Gareth’s scrawling hand. A pile of papers lay nearby, alongside an assortment of guns leaned in one corner. 

“Take a seat,” Gareth barked, nodding to a rickety stool by the table. 

Siuan remained standing, crossing her arms defiantly. “If it’s all the same to you,” she said, voice cool, “I’d rather get this over with.”

He bristled, stepping around the table to square off with her. “You got a lotta nerve. Disappearin’ without a word - again. Where the hell have you been, huh?”

“Out,” she replied simply, shrugging. “Had some personal business to attend to.” 

“Out?” the boss echoed, his voice rising. “You vanish for days, leavin’ us shorthanded, and all you’ve got to say is ‘out’? We got a gang to run here, in case you forgot.”

“Didn’t forget a damn thing,” she shot back. “Just needed a little time.”

Gareth’s eyes narrowed to slits, gaze drilling right through her like he was fixing to carve her open. “I don’t like your tone… or your attitude. You think you can just ride off into the sunset whenever the mood strikes you? It’s addin’ up, Siuan, and I can’t have that.” 

Her jaw tightened. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to breathe.”

The man slammed a fist on the table, causing the maps to flutter. “Dammit, Siuan, lose the attitude! This ain’t a joke! This ain’t some lone-wolf operation either,” he snapped. “We’re a gang, a team. Your actions affect us all. What if we needed to move camp, and you’re nowhere to be found, huh? You’re distracted, unreliable.”

“Spare me the lecture,” she retorted, though her voice had lost a bit of its bite. “What does it matter where I am between jobs?”

“It matters,” Gareth growled. “‘Cause I need people I can count on, people who pull their weight. Or are you too good for that now?”

She clenched her fists, feeling the sting of his words slice deeper than she’d ever let on. “No,” she muttered, guilt creeping up through the anger. “I’m here now. What’s done is done.”

He held her gaze, hard as iron, before turning to the table and unrolling a worn map. “We’re plannin’ another job. Stagecoach leavin’ Valentine tomorrow morning, loaded with gold bound for Saint Denis.”

“A bank transfer?” she echoed, arching a skeptical eyebrow. “Thought we were layin’ low after Blackwater.”

“Desperate times, Siuan,” Gareth replied gruffly. “Funds are runnin’ thin, and folks are gettin’ restless. We need this. And I need to count on you.”

Her shoulders tightened, the guilt digging in deeper. “You can,” she murmured.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered, eyes still on the map.

Siuan stepped closer, studying the marked ambush point. “Who’s ridin’?”

“Me, Lan, Thom, and you,” he listed. “Small crew, less chance of things goin’ south.” 

She let out a wry chuckle. “When do we ever have that kinda luck?”

“Make your own luck,” he replied curtly. “We ride at first light.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “Anything else?”

“Just… make sure your head’s in the game. And remember you’re part of our family.”

Siuan felt the pang in her chest sharpen. “Could never forget.”

“Good,” the boss said. 

With a curt nod, she turned to leave.

“And Siuan,” Gareth called after her.

She paused, looking back over her shoulder.

“Whatever’s goin’ on with you,” he said, softer this time, a rare note of something close to concern in his voice, “you need to get it sorted. Fast.”

She clenched her jaw, pushing down any thoughts of Moiraine that threatened to claw their way up. Nodding, she swallowed back the bitterness that lingered. “Already handled.” 

Stepping out into the crisp air, she took a deep breath, letting the cold fill her lungs. Around her, the camp had resumed its usual rhythm; folks tending to chores, laughter echoing from a nearby card game, the distant strum of Thom’s guitar. But it all felt… distant, like she was standing on the outside looking in.

“Everything all right?” Alanna’s voice brought her back. She stepped into Siuan’s line of sight, hands in her pockets, a warm smile easing across her face. “Maksim and Ihvon told me you were back.”

“Peachy,” Siuan replied, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just had the usual pep talk with Gareth. Does wonders to your psyche.”

Alanna chuckled softly. “He read you the riot act?” 

“Somethin’ like that,” Siuan sighed. “Nothing I can’t handle.” 

“Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me,” the woman offered, her eyes studying Siuan for a moment. “It’s good to see you back safe and sound. Place isn’t the same without you around.” 

“Appreciate it, Alanna.” 

*

The next morning came all too soon, dragging Siuan from the thin scraps of sleep she’d managed to gather. The world was just starting to stir, the sky streaked with the pinks and oranges of a new day.

“Rise and shine,” Thom called, his face poking through her tent flap with a grin. “Time to earn your keep.”

Without missing a beat, she grabbed a boot and flung it in his direction. “Get on outta here before I decide to improve your face,” she shot back playfully, smirking as he ducked.

Thom dodged easily, grinning. “Meet us by the horses in ten.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, yawning wide enough to make her jaw pop. As she geared up, her fingers brushed against the small charm hanging from her neck - a small, carved fish on a leather cord, a keepsake from days long gone. She hesitated, then tucked it back beneath her shirt. 

“Time to focus,” she told herself firmly. 

Finished dressing, she stepped out into the crisp morning air and headed toward the horses where the others were waiting. The boss eyed her up and down but said nothing. Lan offered a friendly nod, and Thom was busy checking his revolver. 

“Ready to ride?” Gareth asked, his tone all business.

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied, tugging the saddle strap one last time, more out of habit than necessity.

They set off in silence, the rhythm of hooves breaking the stillness of the early morning as they headed down the trail. After a stretch, Lan’s horse came alongside hers. He looked over, a soft glint in his dark eyes. “Good to have you back, Siuan.”

She muttered a quick, “Thanks, Lan,” feeling that familiar tug of guilt deep in her chest. “Good to see you too.” 

A quiet beat passed between them before she tried to make some small talk. “You think this coach is worth the early wake-up call?” 

“Word is it’s carrying a hefty sum,” he replied. “Gold transfer headed straight up for Saint Denis. Should set us up nicely for a while.” 

“Assumin’ we don’t get our tails shot off,” she remarked dryly. 

Lan smirked. “Since when has that ever stopped you?” 

“True enough,” Siuan muttered, but the old spark, the thrill she used to feel before a job, felt dulled.

As they rode on, she couldn’t shake the uneasy coil tightening in her gut, wrapping itself tighter with each step closer to the ambush point. She glanced sideways at Lan, who seemed lost in his own thoughts but stoic as ever. Then at Thom, who hummed a low tune, fingers drumming absently against the reins. Up ahead, Gareth led the way, posture rigid and brows furrowed stubbornly. 

When they reached the spot, a narrow bend flanked by thick woods, Siuan had to admit, Gareth’s choice was sound. The road twisted just enough here, leading any driver right into a blind turn. The perfect place for an ambush.

“All right,” the boss began, dismounting and tying his horse to a sturdy pine where it was hidden. “Thom and I’ll block the road up ahead. Siuan, you and Lan take positions on either side. Stay hidden till the coach stops.”

“Got it,” she said, gathering her weapons. She checked her revolver, spinning the cylinder with a practiced flick, then slung her rifle over her shoulder. Her fingers tingled with the cold - and the anticipation. 

The four of them exchanged one last glance, and Siuan let out a slow breath before leading her horse deeper into the trees. She found a spot behind a thick cluster of evergreens, settling herself in the shadows. From here, she had a clear line on the road, while the trees kept her well-concealed.

She crouched low, heart thrumming steadily as her senses sharpened, tuning into the creaks and murmurs of the forest around her. The waiting was always the hardest part, the stretch of silence before the storm. But finally, the faint creak and rattle of wheels sounded down the path, growing louder with each passing second. She tightened her grip on the rifle, her fingers flexing against the cold steel as she steadied herself, eyes fixed on the bend.

Then, through a thin haze of kicked-up snow, the stagecoach appeared. The driver was chatting low with the guards at his side, the three of them blissfully unaware of the trap they were rolling straight into. Siuan caught a glimpse of Gareth and Thom edging onto the road, guns raised, stepping into the open as the stagecoach clattered into range.

“Hold up there!” Gareth shouted.

The driver yanked the reins, his eyes growing wide as he took in the armed figures blocking the road. Siuan tracked his hand as it inched toward his hip, her rifle already trained on him, ready to fire if he made the wrong move.

“What’s the meaning of this?” the driver called out, trying - and failing - to keep the tremor out of his voice.

“Just a friendly toll,” Thom chimed in, a crooked grin on his face as he gestured with his gun. “Hand over that strongbox, and no one gets hurt.”

One of the guards shifted, fingers creeping toward his weapon, and Siuan’s gaze narrowed. She fired a warning shot into the ground near his horse’s hooves. The animal reared, nearly throwing the guard off balance.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she shouted, stepping out from the trees with her rifle aimed dead steady.

Across the road, Lan mirrored her. “Best to listen to the lady,” he advised calmly. 

The men froze, eyes darting between the four outlaws on the road. One of the guards locked eyes with Siuan, a flicker of defiance in his gaze, but his fingers twitched away from his weapon. The men exchanged wary looks, weighing their chances, clearly not keen on gambling their lives today.

The driver swallowed, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple despite the cold winter morning. “All right,” he stammered. “No need for bloodshed.”

“Smart man,” Gareth muttered approvingly as Thom stepped forward, a grin widening across his face as he reached for the strongbox.

Well, that was… easier than expected. For a moment, everything seemed to fall neatly into place. But fate had a funny way of throwing curveballs.

Just as Thom’s hand touched the box, a sudden gunshot rang out, echoing through the air. Siuan barely had a second to process before chaos erupted. Hoofbeats thundered from the tree line, and from the corner of her eye, she saw a group of riders charging down the slope.

Pinkertons. The damn law had sniffed them out, and they surely weren’t here for a chat. These government agents were worse than any bounty hunter. And deadlier. 

“Ambush!” Gareth roared, diving for cover as he fired off a shot. “We’ve been set up!”

“Damn it all to hell,” Siuan cursed, swinging her rifle toward the nearest rider and firing. Her shot struck true, catching the man in the shoulder and sending him tumbling from his horse with a pained scream.

But there were more of them - too many. 

Bullets whizzed past her head, striking into tree trunks and kicking up sprays of snow. Siuan’s heart pounded as she fired again and again, but in the storm of gunfire and shouts, a bullet from behind slammed into her lower arm. She gasped, clutching the bleeding wound as pain flared hot and vicious. Warm blood seeped into her sleeve, but she gritted her teeth and kept firing.

“Fall back!” Lan yelled, but before she could move, a strong arm wrapped around her neck from behind, yanking her off balance.

She thrashed, kicking her heel into her attacker’s shin with a satisfying crunch, but the man barely flinched. His grip tightened, forcing her down to her knees. Her rifle slipped from her hands as he twisted her arms behind her, binding her wrists with coarse rope that bit into her skin. 

Siuan struggled, her breaths coming fast, fury burning hotter than the pain in her arm. She twisted, fighting against the ropes, but her captor just leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “Got ourselves a feisty one here, mh?” 

Siuan grit her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Around her, Gareth, Lan, and Thom were similarly pinned down, forced to their knees with guns pressed to their heads. Blood smeared across Thom’s face, a fresh bruise blooming along his cheekbone, while Gareth’s eyes smoldered with a fury fierce enough to probably burn the whole forest to ash.

Siuan strained against the bindings, testing the knots, but a rough hand slammed down, stopping her cold. A swift kick landed in her side, the pain rippling through her ribs, joining the sharp sting in her arm.

“Well, look at this,” one of the Pinkertons swaggered over, eyes raking over Siuan in a way that made her skin crawl. “The infamous lady outlaw herself, right here. Gotta say, the bounty poster didn’t do you justice. Didn’t expect you’re such a sweetheart.”

“Call me sweetheart again, and I’ll rip your tongue out,” Siuan spat. 

The man chuckled, slow and dismissive. “You’re worth quite some pennies, sweetheart,” he sneered, eyes glinting with something cruel. “What a shame to hang a pretty thing like you… Might be we could have a little fun first.”

Siuan held his gaze, refusing to show any fear. Her lips curled into a sneer to mask the rage and panic that churned in her gut. “Touch me, and there won’t be no fun in it for you, dumbass.”

A dark anger flashed across his face as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. “Big words for someone tied up in the dirt, don’t you think?”

“Enough!” their commander barked, shoving the man aside. “These outlaws are worth more alive and untouched. Search ’em, and let’s move.”

They were shoved to the ground, lined up like trophies as the Pinkertons laughed and whooped, high on their own victory. Siuan felt the sharp scrape of frozen dirt beneath her cheek, the sting of the ropes digging into her wrists, and the sticky warmth of blood soaking her sleeve.

Her mind raced, her eyes darting around, desperate for any crack in their defenses, for any possible way out. Then, she caught Gareth’s eye, a flicker of a plan passing between them in a quick, knowing look. A subtle nod told her to be ready.

As one of the men rummaged through Gareth’s pockets, the boss lunged forward, smashing his forehead into the man’s nose with a crunch. Blood sprayed as the Pinkerton staggered back, cursing and clutching his broken nose.

“Now!” Gareth bellowed. 

In the split second of confusion, Siuan seized the chance, twisting her wrists until the rope loosened. Her earlier struggle had undone the bindings just enough to slip one hand free. She gritted her teeth, reaching down to her boot for the knife she’d hidden there.

One of the men spotted her. “Hey! She’s loose!” he shouted, raising his gun, but she was faster. She spun around, slashing the knife across his arm, and he howled, dropping his weapon as he fell back. 

Siuan dove for her rifle, rolling just as a bullet whistled past her ear. She came up firing, each shot sharp and deliberate. One by one, the Pinkertons realized the tables had turned.

Lan had broken free as well, his fists flying as he took down another man, while Thom wielded a broken rifle like a club, cracking it across a Pinkerton’s jaw and sending him sprawling. Siuan fired, time and again, her shots hitting true until the last of the agents scattered, retreating into the trees with curses on their lips.

“Get the strongbox!” Gareth hollered with a hoarse voice. “And then let’s get the hell outta here!”

Lan and Thom heaved the box onto Gareth’s horse, the loot safe and secured despite the chaos. Siuan swung herself onto her mare too. With a final look at the ruined scene, they turned their horses and tore through the woods, leaving the echoes of gunfire and threats behind as they headed for camp.

Only after they’d cleared the woods and put a solid stretch of miles between them and the Pinkertons did they slow down, their breaths ragged as the weight of what they’d just survived began to settle. This had been a very, very close call. 

“Everyone in one piece?” Gareth asked, glancing around as he caught his breath.

“More or less,” Thom grunted, wiping a streak of blood from his cracked cheekbone. 

Lan glanced at Siuan’s arm. “You’re hurt.”

She glanced down at the blood staining her sleeve. “It’s nothin’.” 

“I’ll send Ryma to you once we’re back,” Gareth remarked before a wild laugh broke from him and he shook his head. “Hell of a ride, though. Goddamn! But we made it! Screw ‘em Pinkertons, ha!”

But as the laughter and relief rippled through the group, Siuan couldn’t find the same satisfaction. Not like she used to.

The ride back to camp felt longer than she could remember. Every bump and jolt of the trail sent fresh aches through her, each one a reminder of just how close she’d come to losing it all.

Back at camp, the gang members who’d stayed behind gathered around them, cheering as they spotted the strongbox. It wasn’t a treasure that would set them up in mansions or let them retire in luxury, not by a long shot. But it was enough to keep them warm, fed, and armed through the biting winter months. And that was a fortune in its own right for them. 

“Today,” Gareth hollered over the din, his grin stretching from ear to ear as the group closed in around him, “we celebrate! All day long!”

The gang whooped in agreement, already passing around bottles and clapping each other on the back. But Siuan lingered on the outskirts, slipping off her horse with a wince as the adrenaline started wearing off. 

She leaned against a post, watching as the others cheer, toast, celebrate. The laughter, the clinking of bottles, the gleeful shouts of victory… it all felt like she was peering into a life she’d somehow slipped away from.

She managed a faint smile whenever someone glanced her way, but her thoughts kept dragging her down, circling back to the dark places this ambush had nearly pulled her into today - a life spent in a cell, with strangers’ hands rough and unwelcome, waiting day after day for the hangman’s noose. 

A cold shiver ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the weather. She looked down at her hands, still smudged with dirt and blood, and her chest tightened with a strange, heavy fear. 

Suddenly, her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Moiraine. She hadn’t let herself think about her since the moment she stepped back into camp. But now the memory of the woman was as sharp and clear as the winter air. 

Siuan swallowed hard, a hollow ache blooming in her chest. She’d fallen for Moiraine, plain and simple, no matter how hard she’d tried to ignore or deny it. And that was why she’d left - because loving Moiraine meant risking a loss she couldn’t bear. But after today, after nearly losing herself - to a bullet, to a cell, to the gallows, or to whatever bad fate - well, it put things into perspective.

“Here,” Lan’s voice suddenly cut through her reverie, and she looked up to see him holding out a bottle of whiskey. “Your favorite painkiller.”

Siuan took it with a grateful nod. “You always know how to spoil a girl,” she said, and took a long swig. The liquor burned a trail down her throat, smothering her thoughts just as much as it eased her pain. 

Lan leaned against the post beside her, his gaze studying her with that quiet intensity he was known for. “Ryma’s gonna want to take a look at that,” he said, nodding toward the bloodstain on her sleeve. “Shouldn’t mess around with bullet wounds.”

“It’s just a scratch,” she muttered, taking another sip, letting the liquor do its work.

He shrugged, giving her a look. “Suit yourself. But you know how she gets.”

As if summoned by the mere mention of her name, Ryma approached, medical bag slung over her shoulder. “Heard you got yourself nicked,” she said, her tone laced with a mixture of scolding and concern.

Siuan sighed, rolling her eyes but not resisting as Ryma set her bag down. “I swear, y’all fuss more than a mother hen. It’s nothin’.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” the woman retorted, arching an eyebrow. “Now, roll up your sleeve.”

With a resigned huff, Siuan complied, letting the medic get to work. The antiseptic’s sting bit sharp, but Siuan barely flinched, her mind more on the whiskey in her hand than the pain in her arm.

“You’re lucky,” Ryma remarked as she dabbed at the wound. “Another inch and you’d be short a piece of that arm.”

“Story of my life,” Siuan muttered, watching absently as her blood swirled into the antiseptic.

Ryma worked with efficiency, her hands steady and sure as she cleaned and wrapped the wound. “You oughta be more careful,” she chided, though her tone held a hint of warmth beneath the reprimand. 

“Don’t I know it,” Siuan replied, though the words lacked conviction. 

As the woman packed up her supplies, she paused, giving Siuan a thoughtful look. “You know, you’ve been… different lately.”

“That so?” Siuan chuckled, almost dismissively. But her gaze drifted down, almost without thinking, to the faint scar on her hand, the mark left from the oath she’d sworn with Moiraine.

Ryma’s eyes followed, her brow lifting. “What’s that?” she asked curiously. “Looks fresh.”

Siuan quickly curled her fingers into a fist, tucking the scar out of sight. “Just another scratch.”

The medic only shrugged, didn’t push further. “Well then, take it easy, Siuan. And try not to get yourself shot again.”

“No promises,” Siuan said with a half-hearted grin that didn’t quite match the weight churning inside her.

Once the woman left, Lan settled back beside Siuan again, studying her for a moment longer than what felt comfortable. “Ryma’s right, you’ve seemed… distant,” he observed. “Distracted.”

“Didn’t know you take part in gossipin’ now.” Siuan shot him a wary glance, hoping he’d take the hint and let it drop.

But Lan didn’t, of course not. He watched her a moment longer, his brows knitting. “Something’s eating at you,” he said, ignoring the jab. 

She poked at the dirt with the tip of her boot, reluctant to meet his eyes. “Just got a lot on my mind, is all. Got a real close look at the life I’ve been flirtin’ with. Y’know… cells, gallows, the whole grim package.” 

“We’re in a dangerous line of work,” he said. “No doubt about it.”

“It’s more than that,” Siuan murmured, gulping down more whiskey. “Spent years tellin’ myself I was free… livin’ how I wanted, answerin’ to no one. But a cold cell and a noose? That ain’t the kind of freedom I thought I’d signed up for.”

Lan nodded, his expression unreadable as he lit a cigarette and took a drag, then offered it to her. She took it, grateful for the familiar burn as she inhaled. “None of us want that, Siuan. That’s why we ride fast, keep low, don’t think too hard… You stare into the abyss long enough, it starts staring back.”

A wry smile tugged at her lips as she exhaled a plume of smoke. “Since when’d you get so poetic?”

The man chuckled softly. “We all got layers.”

Siuan took another drag, letting the nicotine settle her nerves before handing the cigarette back to him. “You ever feel like you’re just… driftin’? Like no matter what you do, none of it feels right?”

Lan tilted his head thoughtfully, seemed to consider her question. “Sometimes. Usually means there’s something missing.”

She glanced over briefly, brow raised. “And what’s that, wise man?”

He shrugged. “Could be a lot of things. Purpose, maybe. A reason to keep going when the road gets too rough.”

She chuckled bitterly. “Thought this life was my reason,” she muttered. “Ridin’, robbin’, livin’ free.”

“Maybe your compass is pointing you somewhere else,” he stated simply. 

She fell silent, the weight of his words settling over her like a heavy, uncomfortable blanket. She finally met his gaze, and for the first time, she let herself acknowledge the doubt that had been gnawing at her. Ever since… ever since she’d met Moiraine.

“I’ve known you a long time, Siuan,” Lan continued gently. “But lately, it’s like your heart ain’t in it.”

She hated how Lan could read her, how he saw the cracks as easily as words on a page. But she couldn’t deny he was right.

“Maybe it’s not,” she admitted quietly.

Lan’s gaze dropped to her hand, where the faint scar from her blood oath was hidden out of sight. “That scar… got anything to do with it?”

She opened her palm, staring at the thin line etched there. She trusted Lan, saw him as a friend - a true one. The kind who listened without judgement, who stood by her even when she couldn’t stand herself. But trust was a rare thing in her world, and she wasn’t sure how to let him in on… this, this knot of feelings and fears that were all tied to Moiraine. She didn’t want to lay it all bare, but for once, she felt the urge to let someone hold at least a small part of the truth.

“I made a promise to someone,” she murmured.

Lan gave her a look, but there was nothing but understanding and warmth in his dark eyes. “And that’s something you regret?” he asked gently.

“I don’t know,” Siuan sighed. “Maybe I’m just… afraid. Afraid of messin’ things up, of losin’ more than I can bear.” 

She shook her head, trying to shake off the weight of this thought. Of Moiraine’s pretty face, her enchanting eyes, and the quiet way she’d slipped into Siuan’s heart and ripped open old wounds.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with a little fear,” Lan replied. “Means you got something worth protecting. That’s a good thing.”

She sighed. “I dunno, Lan. It’s not that easy.”

“Never said it was,” he said with a shrug. “But life’s short, Siuan. Shorter for folks like us. If there’s something out there that gives you peace, you owe it to yourself to chase it.”

She looked down, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “Sometimes… I feel like I don’t even know myself anymore. Like it’d be easier to be a nobody, with no feelings, with nothin’ to lose, nothin’ to give to this world.”

“But you aren’t a nobody, Siuan,” Lan said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re my friend, and I know your heart’s in the right place.”

“Thanks, Lan,” she murmured, meaning it more than he’d ever know.

“Don’t thank me.” He stood, his hand lingering just a moment longer. “World’s only gettin’ meaner, but you’re still here, Siuan. You’re not in a cell, not dangling from a noose. You’re free. Don’t lose sight of that.”

But even as he spoke, her mind wandered off. To Moiraine. Again. In her presence, things had seemed clearer, almost simple. There had been a sense of freedom that Siuan had never felt with the gang, even on their best days. What if… Moiraine was the purpose Lan had just been talking about? What if Moiraine was her purpose? 

Maybe it was time to set things right. 

Chapter Text

The snow had started as a gentle whisper - a few lazy flakes drifting down like they had all the time in the world. But by the time Siuan was closing in on Moiraine’s cabin, the whisper had become a full-on roar. 

The storm howled through the trees, slicing sideways and whipping snow in her face, sharp enough to feel like a thousand tiny knives. The world around turned into a swirling white blur and the familiar trail was buried under a blanket of snow. Siuan had to rely more on instinct than sight to guide her. 

“What a damn mess,” she muttered, tugging her scarf up higher to shield her face. 

The wind clawed at her coat, and the snow soaked through her gloves, turning her fingers cold and stiff. Her hat, usually good for just about anything the elements could throw at her, had surrendered to the weather an hour ago and was now as useless as a paper shield. 

Siuan grimaced but pressed on - turning back wasn’t an option. It had taken days to scrape together the nerve to come back here, and she wasn’t about to let a bit of weather send her packing.

The clearing finally appeared from the white chaos and Siuan’s heart did a strange little jump. The cabin’s outlines were blurred by the relentless snowfall, but the faint glow of a lantern beckoned her closer.

She swung down from her horse, boots plunging into snow up to her knees. “Well, ain’t this just the cherry on top,” she grumbled, tugging the reins and leading the mare toward the side of the cabin. Under the eaves, the snow was thinner, sheltered enough to give the poor animal a bit of relief. 

“Sorry, girl,” she murmured, giving the horse’s neck a quick pat. “Ain’t much, but it’ll have to do for now.”

For a moment, she lingered there, half-hidden among the shadows, unsure if she could bring herself to cross the last few steps. Funny how she’d stared down the barrel of a gun more times than she could count, but knocking on a door had her gut tied in knots.

The thing was, she didn’t quite know what awaited her beyond the cabin’s door. Maybe Moiraine wouldn’t even let her in. Or worse, she’d open it and look at Siuan like she wasn’t even worth her time anymore. Still, she had to try and see. Running only took her so far before her heart dragged her right back to this spot.

She drew in a deep breath and forced herself to move up the steps. She stopped at the door, raising her hand to knock, but her knuckles froze mid-air. 

“C’mon, Sanche,” she whispered to herself. “Here goes nothin’.” Summoning the last of her courage, she knocked.

The sound was pitiful against the storm’s roar, but it was done. Seconds stretched out like hours. Nothing moved. Nothing happened. She swallowed hard, contemplating a hasty retreat. She could still turn around, ride away, pretend this had never happened. Maybe this was the universe’s way of saying she wasn’t supposed to come back here.

But then the door creaked open - and there she was. 

Moiraine stood in the doorway, framed by the warm glow inside. Her brown hair was loose, falling in soft curls around her shoulders, and her eyes - those damn beautiful eyes - seemed to pierce right through Siuan, like they’d been waiting for her all along.

For a second, Siuan forgot how to breathe. She should’ve said something, tipped her hat, maybe thrown out some rough outlaw charm to cover the fact that Moiraine looking at her like that made her knees feel a touch less steady. But the words froze in her throat, stuck somewhere between “Howdy” and “Damn, you’re beautiful”.

Siuan caught the way Moiraine’s hand shifted, sliding casually to her side, away from whatever she’d been gripping behind her back. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was - a hidden revolver, no doubt. Smart. The kind of move a woman made when she’d been hiding in the wilderness too long to trust a knock on the door, blizzard or no blizzard.

For a long second, they just stood there, staring at each other. Moiraine’s gaze swept over the visitor, head to toe, moving from the snow piled on Siuan’s hat to the raw flush on her cheeks. The huntress’ eyes lingered a moment longer on the fading bruises on Siuan’s jaw, the little reminder of how poorly the heist had gone a few days back.

Under that look, Siuan felt scruffier than ever, like a barn cat caught in downpour. Her hands moved on instinct, tugging at her coat collar and brushing at the snow clinging to her shoulders. But in the end, it didn’t matter. She knew full well that there wasn’t any fixing how ragged she must’ve looked.

“Say somethin’, you fool,” her inner voice snapped impatiently, but her throat tightened further. Her thoughts were tangled in a web of half-formed explanations, but before she could scrape together the courage to speak, the other woman beat her to it.

“Siuan.” 

There was no question in the name, no accusation, no emotion at all, just acknowledgment. Slowly but surely, Moiraine’s expression shifted, the surprise smoothed away as she schooled her features back into an unreadable calm.

“Moiraine,” Siuan managed to croak out, her voice rough from the cold - or maybe just from her nerves. “Didn’t mean to just… show up outta the blue like this.” 

The huntress’ sharp eyes lingered for a beat longer, searching, assessing, but then softened. She drew a measured breath before stepping back and gesturing toward the open door. “Well,” she said, her tone clipped but not exactly cold, “first, you better get inside. The storm isn’t forgiving today.” 

“Appreciate it,” Siuan muttered, tipping the brim of her useless hat in what felt more like an apology than proper thanks.

She stepped over the threshold, boots thudding softly against the worn floorboards, leaving behind wet patches of snow. As soon as she stood inside, the familiar warmth of the cabin hit her like a wave. The scent of lavender and wood smoke hung in the air, grounding her in a way that made her heart beat faster.

She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed this place, the peace of it, the coziness - or maybe it wasn’t the place she’d missed at all. 

“Your horse?” Moiraine’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Siuan blinked, dragging herself back to the moment. “Got her tucked under the eaves,” she replied. “She’ll be alright.”

The huntress gave a curt nod, her gaze flicking briefly toward the window before settling back on Siuan. “Hang your coat by the fire,” she instructed, her tone even but carrying just enough edge to make it clear she wasn’t asking.

Siuan glanced down at herself, realizing just how much of a mess she’d dragged in. Snow clung stubbornly to her coat, already starting to melt into a soggy, dripping disaster. “Right,” she muttered, more to herself than the other woman, peeling the wet fabric off her shoulders with stiff, clumsy hands.

Moiraine moved across the room and retrieved a woolen blanket from a neatly folded stack. Her movements were graceful, as always, but there was something cautious in the way she approached, like she wasn’t sure what to make of the unexpected visit.

“Here,” she said simply, holding the blanket out. “Stay warm.”

“Thanks,” Siuan muttered, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. “Guess I didn’t pick the best day for a visit,” she added, attempting a wry grin. 

Moiraine didn’t answer. Instead, she busied herself with stirring the embers, adding another log to the fire, letting the silence stretch between them. When she finally stood, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, her gaze pinned Siuan where she stood. 

The look in her eyes wasn’t exactly warm. If anything, it was sharp and calculating, like she was holding an invisible knife and deciding exactly where to cut. And damn if Siuan didn’t feel like she was being dissected piece by piece in that silence.

She shifted her weight, suddenly feeling like a bug under a magnifying glass. “What?” Siuan asked, grinning weakly. “Somethin’ on my face?” 

Moiraine didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. “Why are you here, Siuan?” she asked eventually, straight to the point. It wasn’t harsh, not really, but there was a bite to the question that made Siuan’s throat go dry nonetheless.

Siuan felt the weight of the other woman’s gaze like a physical thing. She pulled at the edge of the blanket, hoping it might miraculously shield her from answering. She’d never been much for talking things through; her usual approach was a grunt, a nod and a quick exit. But words were what Moiraine deserved, but they were also the one thing she didn’t quite know how to give.

“I was, uh…,” she started, glancing around the cabin as if the right answer might be hiding in a corner. “Just passin’ through. Storm caught me off guard.”

The huntress raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting just enough to let Siuan know she wasn’t buying a word of it. “You were just… passing through?”

Siuan winced inwardly, feeling the sting of the lie the second it left her lips. She let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head as her jaw tightened. She wasn’t here to play games any more. No more lies, no more bullshit.

“Well, actually… not exactly,” she admitted, her hand reflexively rubbing the back of her neck. Damn that nervous habit! It always made her feel even more exposed. “Truth is, I wanted… to talk to you. Couldn’t leave things the way I did.”

Moiraine’s expression remained a careful mask, like she was considering every word before deciding what to do with it. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again,” she said plainly. “Especially after you left so abruptly.”

Siuan felt her pulse quicken, her palms suddenly clammy despite the lingering chill still in her bones. “Moiraine, about that…,” she began, but the words died in her throat. Admitting feelings wasn’t exactly her strong suit. She clearly wasn’t good at any of this, at being open, at saying the things that mattered. 

“I ain’t exactly the best at goodbyes, you know that,” she finally said, her voice rougher than she wanted it to be. “Or hellos, for that matter. I know I left without saying much, and that wasn’t fair to you.” 

Moiraine didn’t react right away. She stood there, still and unreadable, but her lashes flickered, the tiniest crack in her otherwise flawless armor. “But why did you leave so suddenly?” she asked, her voice as calm and measured as ever, though the quiet insistence beneath it was impossible to miss.

Siuan hesitated, her grip on the blanket tightening. “It’s complicated,” she muttered.

Moiraine didn’t let up. “Why did you came back?” she pressed, as though she was determined to get some answers herself for a change.

“It’s… complicated,” Siuan repeated, wincing at the way the words sounded even hollower the second time. She cursed herself silently, wishing she’d come up with something more. Something better. Like the truth.

The huntress lifted her chin slightly, her mouth twitching, but it wasn’t a smile, more like a challenge. “You think I don’t understand complicated things?”

Siuan’s throat tightened, and before she could stop them, memories of that night came rushing back - the night Moiraine had trusted her, shared the cruel truths of her past. The secrets. The pain. The things she’d carried alone for so long. “No,” she said softly. “I think you understand better than anyone.”

“So why not try me?” the huntress urged, her eyes searching Siuan’s face like she was desperate to find something buried there.

Siuan sighed heavily. It was time to stop running - from Moiraine, from herself, from everything. It was time for the truth. 

“Well,” she started slowly. “I got back to the gang, back out there, and it… it all nearly went to hell, Moiraine. Folks like me, we don’t get second chances. Always runnin’, lookin’ over my shoulder… Feels like I’ve been chasin’ ghosts so long, I ain’t sure what’s me anymore. I start feelin’ like a stranger in my own damn skin.” 

The words tumbled out heavier than she expected, and for once, she didn’t try to smother the weight with a grin or some stupid joke. Her gaze dropped to the floorboards, and she worked her jaw, searching for the courage to say what she really wanted to say.

“It got me thinkin’, y’know? About everything.” She swallowed hard. “But at the end of the day, the only thing I could think about was…” 

She stopped, biting down hard enough to feel the sting in her teeth. “Say it! Come on, you absolute coward! Just say it!” her mind barked. But the word “you” sat heavy on her tongue, too big and too terrifying to spit out.

“…maybe we could start over?” she blurted instead, the words clumsy, rushed and all wrong. What a poor substitute for the truth she couldn’t bring herself to say. “Y’know, build a friendship or somethin’?”

Moiraine’s lips parted slightly, enough to show her surprise before she caught herself and pressed them into a thin line. “Friends,” she echoed. Her tone was still measured but her eyes said something else entirely. They held an emotion, something that looked an awful lot like… disappointment?

“Yes,” she murmured after a beat, almost distant. “I suppose friendship is… a good idea.”

For some reason, Siuan felt a pang. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t what she thought was disappointment in Moiraine’s eyes. Something wasn’t right.

“Look, if I said somethin’ wron-” 

“No,” Moiraine cut in, the word coming fast, clipped. “It’s not that.”

Siuan blinked, startled by the suddenness of it. “Then what?” she asked, taking a half-step closer.

For a hot second, it looked like the huntress might actually say something. Her lips parted, her breath hitched, and her chest lifted like she was preparing to take a step over some invisible line. But then her jaw snapped shut. “It’s nothing,” she said coldly. 

Siuan knew that tone. She hated that tone. It was the sound of Moiraine stepping back into herself, slipping behind her walls, locking every door, and tossing the keys into the abyss. It was the sound of being shut out.

“Did I just… mess things up even more?” Siuan’s mind raced, trying to backtrack, to pinpoint where the hell things had gone sideways. Was it something she said? Something she didn’t say?

She cleared her throat, the sound startlingly loud in the heavy, oppressive quiet. Desperate to cut through the tension, she reached for the first thing that came to her mind.

“Place looks the same. Cozy,” she muttered, gesturing vaguely at the room, as if pointing at random furniture might somehow help. But the words hung there limp and useless, like a bad joke no one laughed at.

Moiraine didn’t respond, didn’t even look at her. Her gaze had drifted somewhere past Siuan’s shoulder, fixed on some distant point like she was staring down a thought instead of a person. But there was still that flicker in her eyes. Whether it was disappointment or something else entirely, it hadn’t let go, and Siuan couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d missed something important.

Forcing a chuckle, she tried again, grasping at anything to lighten the mood. “I, uh, noticed you fixed that loose board on the porch.” It was another weak attempt, and she knew it. Hell, she could feel it, the awkwardness of it all. 

“I did,” the huntress replied plainly. “Didn’t want anyone tripping over it.”

“Safety first,” Siuan muttered, nodding like it was some profound wisdom. “Porch maintenance… important business...” Her voice trailed off, and she winced internally. 

“Porch maintenance? Really?” Siuan wanted to groan out loud. If there was a hole to crawl into, she’d have happily fallen in headfirst. This was embarrassing, even by her standards.

But then, to her surprise, Moiraine’s gaze finally shifted back to her. Slowly. Intentionally. “You seem to have a knack for finding the weak spots, don’t you?” 

Siuan shrugged, forcing a half-smile that she prayed didn’t look as nervous as it felt. “Occupational hazard, I guess. You know me - stubborn as a mule, twice as nosy, and three times as pedantic.”

The huntress’ expression didn’t change much at first, her features carved from the same enigmatic stone as always. But then… there it was. 

The faintest twitch at the corner of her lips, or maybe just the slightest spark in her eyes. It was so subtle that Siuan thought she might’ve imagined it. But real or not, it was enough to loosen the tight coil of tension in her gut, enough to make her feel like she hadn’t completely botched things. 

The silence stretched once again. It wasn’t an easy one - too full of unsaid things - but still, it could be worse. Then, as if the storm had decided it couldn’t stand the quiet any more either, a sharp gust slammed against the frosted window.

Siuan glanced toward the source of the noise, watching the snow pile higher and higher against the panes. “Looks like the storm’s settlin’ in for the night,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

“It appears so,” Moiraine agreed quietly, her eyes following Siuan’s to the swirling white chaos outside.

“I should probably get goin’ before it gets any worse.” 

“Nonsense,” the huntress said firmly. “The storm will be much worse by nightfall. You should stay until it passes.”

Siuan shifted her weight, unsure whether to argue or just tip her hat and sit down. “I don’t wanna impose,” she protested lightly. “And I don’t wanna push my luck with Gareth. Man’s got a short fuse these days, and I’m already on thin ice.”

“You’re not imposing,” Moiraine assured her, even if her voice was more practical than anything else. “It would be foolish to risk your life in this weather. Surely your gang would agree you’re of no use to them if you’re dead.”

That was the kicker. Siuan couldn’t argue with common sense, and Moiraine knew it. Still, the hesitation lingered. After everything, after her clumsy words and Moiraine’s strange response, was this really a good idea?

Probably not. But then, nothing about this situation was good exactly. Siuan scrubbed a hand over her jaw, searching for a single reason to refuse that wasn’t soaked in pride or plain stubbornness. She came up empty.

“Alright then,” Siuan murmured reluctantly. “But I need to leave at first light, or the gang’ll have my hide.” 

“Agreed,” the other woman said with a curt nod, like they’d just agreed on a business deal. Then, as if the tension from moments before had never existed, Moiraine gestured lightly toward the hearth. “Would you like some tea?”

The casualness of the question caught Siuan off guard, and she blinked for a moment, unsure how to respond to… tea. Of all things.

The word alone was enough to bring back memories of Moiraine’s herbal concoctions; Earthy, bitter things that tasted like a mix of grass, regret and a hint of something medicinal that no amount of whiskey could burn off. The thought nearly made her snort. Siuan’s lips twitched despite herself, threatening to curl into a grin she barely managed to suppress. Almost.

But of course, Moiraine didn’t miss a damn thing and seemed to catch it anyway. However, much to Siuan’s surprise, the woman’s lips quirked in return. It was the closest thing to a smile Siuan had seen since she’d stepped inside the cabin.  

“Well,” the huntress began, the faint smile still lingering as she moved to a shelf. “I thought about a blend you might like more this time. Dried berries with mint. And honey, if you prefer it sweeter.” She pulled a glass jar from its place and held it up like it was a quiet peace offering. 

“That… uh,” Siuan responded, trying to ignore the way her heart fluttered all of a sudden. “Sounds real nice, actually. You sure this ain’t some kinda trick to get me to drink more of your healthy stuff?”

Moiraine let out a soft huff, and placed the jar on the counter. “No trick,” she said lightly. “I’ll make it even sweeter than what I’d consider healthy if you promise not to complain.”

Siuan chuckled, but it didn’t mask the way her stomach flipped like a hooked fish. It wasn’t the promise of a sweet tea that caused the feeling. Hell, she’d choke down anything without actual complaint if it came from Moiraine. No, it was the thought behind it. The idea of the huntress thinking about her, considering what she might like, and making something special just for Siuan.

Moiraine didn’t linger on the moment, though. She turned toward the small kitchen space, moving with her usual precision. The firelight caught her profile just right, casting golden strokes across her features and accentuating her beauty. 

Siuan swallowed hard and turned her eyes toward the hearth instead, dropping into the old chair by the fire with a heavy thud. The wood creaked under her weight, protesting as much as her body did after a long ride through a snowstorm.

“You should’ve told her, you lovesick fool.” 

The thought hit her hard, unwelcome and insistent. Siuan scowled at the flames, watching them twist and dance. In the background, the soft clatter of Moiraine’s preparations filled the silence, a steady rhythm that somehow made everything feel even heavier. 

After a while, Siuan’s gaze wandered, landing on the dreamcatcher hanging above the bed. She hesitated, then tilted her head toward it. “Y’know,” she began, “that dreamcatcher of yours… don’t think it’s workin’ right.” 

Moiraine turned at that, teapot in hand. “Bad dreams?” 

Siuan let out a quiet laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “You could say that,” she admitted, staring at the object as if it might replay the nightmare. “Had a real rough one last time I stayed here.”

The huntress crossed the room, setting two steaming mugs on the small table before taking the seat across from Siuan. Her gaze followed to the dreamcatcher, her eyes softening as if she, too, was seeing something long gone. 

“You know, you have to ask it to bring you good dreams,” Moiraine explained. “My mother taught me that. After I came here, I was plagued by nightmares… terrible ones. She made this dreamcatcher especially for me, and every night we’d ask it together to guard my sleep.”

Siuan turned her head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Ask it?” she drawled, a teasing note slipping into her tone. “Didn’t take you for the superstitious type.”

Moiraine’s lips twitched again, that faint smile making another rare appearance. “It’s not superstition,” she said simply. “It helps.”

Siuan studied her, softening at the sight of vulnerability. There was something about the way Moiraine offered these glimpses of herself, fragments of her past she surely didn’t share lightly, that made Siuan’s chest ache in a strange way.

“I’ll give it a shot,” Siuan said after a moment, her eyes fixed on the woman in front of her. “Can’t hurt, right?”

They sipped their tea in silence. The blend was indeed excellent; fruity, sweet, and just minty enough to soothe one’s nerves without being overpowering. It was calming in a way that went beyond the warmth of the liquid.

After a while, the earlier awkwardness between them seemed to fade bit by bit. Yet, even as the silence grew easier, Siuan couldn’t shake the tug at her chest, that restless feeling that refused to let her settle completely. Words were still left unsaid. The truth yet to be told. 

Siuan glanced at Moiraine, her fingers curling tighter around her mug as her heart gave an awkward thud. Before she could think better of it, the words slipped out. “Y’know, I missed it… talkin’ with you.”

The huntress seemed to freeze, her expression unreadable at first. For a long moment, Siuan feared she’d overstepped. But then, Moiraine’s eyes softened. “I… missed it as well.”

Siuan’s heart stuttered at the words. She shifted in her seat, careful, testing the waters as she ventured further. “Maybe we can do it more often,” she suggested, almost hesitant. “Assumin’ you don’t mind me droppin’ by unannounced.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” the huntress said softly.

“By the way, I appreciate you not slamming the door in my face.” Siuan’s lips twitched into a grin, the tension between them easing just enough to let her tease.  

“It was a close call,” Moiraine quipped playfully. 

“Fair enough.” Siuan chuckled, her spirits lifting. For the first time since coming back here, she felt a bit lighter, like maybe this was a moment she could hold onto, something that wouldn’t crush to pieces like everything else usually did. 

The lightness encouraged her, pushing her toward another leap. Siuan took a steadying breath, setting her mug down before speaking. “Look, I… I came because I wanted to set things right. To be honest. To tell you… I had to… See if maybe…”

Every thought trailed off. She knew she had to say it, knew she owed the truth - to both of them. But what if she said it, and everything changed? What if she said it, and Moiraine didn’t feel the same, maybe even found it repellent?

The huntress’ gaze softened further, her sharp features gentled by an understanding that made Siuan’s chest ache. “You don’t have to say everything at once,” she said softly, her voice carrying a patience Siuan wasn’t sure she deserved. “You’re here. That’s more than enough for now.”

Siuan swallowed hard, trying to gather her courage again. She couldn’t let it slip away. Not this time.

“Moiraine,” she began again. “I need to tell you how much-”

Before the words could find their way out, a fierce gust of wind slammed against the cabin, rattling the windows with enough force to shake the walls. Both women turned instinctively toward the sound. Just like that, the moment slipped through Siuan’s fingers, and she felt it go with a pang of regret.

“The storm is worsening.” The huntress stood up, concern in her voice. “We should make sure everything is secured before settling for the night.”

Siuan nodded with a deep sigh. “Yep,” she muttered, pushing herself to her feet as well. “Don’t wanna wake up buried in snow.”

But as Moiraine turned toward the door to check the locks, Siuan’s gaze lingered, the words still burning at the back of her throat. She couldn’t stand the thought that she’d let another chance slip by. She had stayed silent, again, hadn’t said the truth. But she would.

One day.

*

When dawn broke, the storm had finally spent its fury, leaving a pristine landscape blanketed in snow that sparkled under the early morning light. The world outside looked untouched, quiet, as if it had been reset overnight.

Surprisingly, Siuan had slept better than she had in weeks. No nightmares. Moiraine’s advice had worked, though she hadn’t expected it to. But now, as she packed her things, a subtle heaviness settled in her chest.

She felt the pull to stay longer, at least a little while, at least until she could muster the courage to tell Moiraine about her feelings. But Siuan knew she couldn’t afford it. The boss was already breathing down her neck, and she’d be lucky to convince him that waiting out the storm hadn’t been a waste of time.

Still, the idea of leaving just like that didn’t sit right.

“Appreciate you letting me hole up here,” Siuan said, adjusting the strap on her saddlebag. “Not sure when I’ll be back this way, but… it was good to see you, Moiraine.” 

The huntress stood by the door, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her eyes were somehow distant, as if she was holding something back herself. Maybe it was just the early hour, or maybe Moiraine had her own reasons for keeping things unsaid. Siuan wasn’t about to ask, though. 

“Take care of yourself, Siuan,” she said.

Siuan nodded, her gaze catching on Moiraine’s face and holding there for just a moment too long. There was something unspoken hanging between them, she knew it but also couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She shifted awkwardly, fidgeting with the brim of her hat as the silence stretched.

“Listen, before I go,” Siuan began, clearing her throat as her nerves threatened to choke her. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes?” Moiraine’s response came quickly, the word tumbling out faster than usual. 

“There’s this thing in Valentine next week…” Siuan hesitated, forcing herself to keep going. “A masquerade ball for New Year’s Eve. Nothin’ fancy, just folks dressin’ up, wearin’ masks, pretendin’ for a night. Thought maybe you’d like to go with me?”

The other woman blinked, clearly surprised, but an unexpected smile tugged at her lips. “A masquerade?” she repeated.

“Yeah.” Siuan shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the fluttering in her stomach. “Figured it could be a chance to get out, Y’know, let loose a little.” She hesitated, then added quickly, “And you wouldn’t have to worry much about bein’ recognized.”

Moiraine’s expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t usually attend such events.”

“I get it,” Siuan said hurriedly, the sting of rejection already prickling at the edges of her mind. “Crowds aren’t your thing. It was just a stupid thought. Forget I said-”

”Is there a reason you want me to go with you?”

The question cut through her fumbling words, and Siuan froze, swallowing hard as her mouth went dry. Her heart hammered against her ribs, loud enough that she wondered if the other woman could hear it too.

“I just… I thought you might like a change of scenery,” she said, her gaze darting to the floor, her boots, anywhere but Moiraine’s face. “And, well, uh, I’d really enjoy your company… if you let me take you out.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Siuan dared a glance upward, just in time to catch the faint flush coloring Moiraine’s cheeks and the shy smile on her lips. 

“I… suppose that does sound… enjoyable,” she agreed softly. “Perhaps you’re right. A change of scenery could be nice for once.” 

Siuan’s grin spread across her face before she could stop it. “Course I’m right,” she said, throwing in a wink for good measure. “Folks’ve been tellin’ me I’m wise beyond my years.”

A soft laugh escaped Moiraine, light and genuine. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” Siuan affirmed, placing a hand over her heart in mock sincerity. ”Wise, charmin’, humble - the whole package. So, what do you say?”

“When you put it that way… how can I refuse?” 

“Then it’s settled,” Siuan said, excitement bubbling in her chest. “I’ll pick you up. We’ll stay the night in Valentine. You can relax a bit - it’s all on me.”

Moiraine nodded, her smile softening into something steadier, warmer, as if the weight of the moment wasn’t lost on her either. “Very well. I look forward to it.”

Chapter Text

The early sun-rays turned the white landscape into a sparkling winter wonderland, dressing every tree branch in a glittering coat of snow and frost. It almost looked like the kind of serene scene that rich folks liked to capture in fancy paintings and hang on their parlor walls; a world cleaner and brighter than it ever really was.

But despite the sun’s best efforts, the cold cut deep out here. Siuan adjusted the collar of her coat, but that didn’t help in any way. The chill was sinking into her bones, yet no amount of mountain air could settle the flutter in her chest or hush the train of thoughts in her head. 

Would Moiraine actually enjoy herself tonight? Or had she just said yes to be polite? Hell, what if she already regretted agreeing to come? Siuan swallowed against the thought. She’d been in enough polite silences to know they could stretch long and awkward - and the ride to Valentine wasn’t exactly short. 

Her grip on the reins tightened, the leather creaking faintly beneath her gloved fingers. But she caught herself and eased up, blowing out a gruff sigh. She flicked a glance down at the buggy she was steering - a special something for a special occasion. Or, truth be told, for a special someone. 

The vehicle was a real looker, no doubt about that; polished wood, intricate detailing, and wheels that rolled smoother than any she’d ever handled. It was the kind of craftsmanship that made you believe some folks still took pride in their work.

Of course, its fine appearance didn’t tell the whole story. That shine? That polish? Oh, it wasn’t exactly hers. Siuan had borrowed it from a trader passing through Rhodes who owed Gareth money. Or maybe owed her money? It was all the same in their line of work. A debt to one was a debt to all, and Siuan wasn’t one to let opportunities pass her by.

Pulling up in front of Moiraine’s cabin, she slowed the horse with a low whistle and gentle tug of the reins. Her breath curled out in white clouds as she hopped down, boots crunching in the snow. “Alright, Sanche,” she muttered to herself, adjusting her hat and squaring her shoulders. “Don’t go makin’ a fool of yourself again.”

Reaching the door, she smoothed down her coat, readjusted her hat a final time for good measure, and hesitated a beat before knocking.

The cabin remained silent, and Siuan took a step back, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. No sense standing there looking like she was nervously hovering. Because she wasn’t. Nope. She was just… waiting. Like any normal person would. The rest was to blame on the cold, obviously. The sharp bite of winter was enough to make anyone’s chest feel tight, she convinced herself, blissfully ignoring the way her heart was hammering like it was trying to break free of her ribs.

Suddenly, the door swung open so fast she nearly jumped out of her boots. There stood Moiraine, ready as could be, wrapped in that blue cloak she seemed to favor. Her scarf was tight around her neck, hair tucked neatly under her hood. The sharp morning light caught her features just right, making her look like she’d stepped out of one of those fancy paintings. But it wasn’t the light or the snug attire that caught Siuan’s attention.

It was the smile. 

Not just one of Moiraine’s usual polite, faint little things, the ones that barely curved her lips and made you second-guess if it was there to begin with. This one was radiant and warm, bright enough to melt the snow off the trees.

Siuan hadn’t expected that, not first thing in the morning, and certainly not without a reason she could spot. After all, the huntress wasn’t exactly the smiling type. But whatever had caused the good mood, Siuan silently prayed it’d stick.

“Mornin’ ma’am,” she drawled, tipping her hat and trying to match the other woman’s smile without looking like a complete idiot.

“Good morning to you too,” Moiraine replied, her eyes soon drifting to the buggy parked behind the horse. “Well, this is new.”

Siuan couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face, proud as a cat that caught a particularly fat mouse. She turned and waved a hand toward the buggy, motioning like it was the grandest carriage ever to grace these parts - which, probably, it was.

“Thought we’d travel in style today,” she said, a hint of smugness slipping into her tone. “What do you think? Ain’t she a beaut?

Moiraine stepped forward, eyeing the vehicle up and down. Siuan watched her, searching for any sign of approval. Or disapproval. Or anything. Then, a brow arched and a knowing smirk appeared on the woman’s face.

“It is indeed,” she said slowly. “Though I must admit, I’m curious. Where exactly did you come across such a fine piece?”

Siuan’s grin widened, cocky as ever, though her pulse skipped a beat. “Oh, y’know,” she drawled. “Here and there.”

“Here and there, hmm?” There was a certain amusement in Moiraine’s voice, but her gaze was sharp enough to remind Siuan that she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Do you really wanna know the details?” Siuan smirked, tipping her hat back with a gloved finger. “Reckon it might just take the shine off it.”

Moiraine hummed softly, a sound that could mean anything, though Siuan caught the faintest twitch of her lips. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said. “It’s best if I don’t.”

“Great answer,” Siuan said with a wink, stepping forward to offer an exaggerated bow. “Now, c’mon. We got places to be, and no time for standin’ around with questions that’ll only get me in hot water. Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”

But instead of getting on the buggy, the woman turned on her heel and strode straight past it without another word or glance.

Siuan blinked, her grin faltering as she straightened up. “Uhm… wrong way, lady,” she quipped, already spinning to follow. 

The huntress, however, paid her no mind, making a beeline for Siuan’s horse. The mare let out a soft nicker, ears twitching forward as if to greet an old friend. Without hesitation, Moiraine reached out, her hand brushing lightly against the horse’s muzzle. The animal leaned into her touch like it’d been waiting all morning for just that moment.

Siuan stood back, hands on her hips, watching the interaction with an expression that wavered between admiration and mild confusion. She’d never understood people who had that kind of way with those animals. To her, horses were a necessary evil. Useful, sure, but temperamental and stubborn as hell. And yet, here was Moiraine, turning the mare into a lovestruck puppy with just a touch and a whisper.

“Don’t go spoilin’ her too much now,” Siuan called. “She’ll start thinkin’ she’s the one callin’ the shots.”

Moiraine glanced over her shoulder, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Oh, I think she already knows who really holds the reins.”

Siuan huffed. “Well, then don’t encourage her. Next thing I know, she’ll be demandin’ her oats be served on a silver platter.”

The huntress shot her another mischievous look, but said nothing. Siuan shifted her weight from one boot to the other, suddenly feeling oddly like a third wheel in her own conversation. 

Then, as if she’d deemed the horse sufficiently spoiled, Moiraine gave the mare a final, lingering stroke before turning back toward the buggy.

“Need a hand up?” Siuan offered, stepping forward and extending an arm.

“I can manage, thank you,” Moiraine replied, though Siuan didn’t miss the subtle nod of appreciation.

And manage she did. She stepped up to the buggy with the kind of grace that made Siuan feel clumsy just for existing in the same space. However, she followed suit, trying not to fumble the reins as she settled into her seat. 

“Ready to hit the trail?” she asked, urging the horse into motion. “Hope you brought some jokes and good stories to keep the driver entertained all the way to Valentine.” 

That earned her a faint smile, but it wasn’t the warm, unguarded one she’d seen earlier. It was smaller, more fragile, like the last ember of a fire being smothered. Siuan noticed the sudden change right away and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of thoughts could chase away a smile like that. 

Moiraine’s earlier warmth was suddenly fading fast, replaced by that guarded composure of hers. She gripped her traveling bag a little too tightly, her shoulders were a little too straight, and her expression turned just distant enough to remind Siuan how easily that woman could slip back into her fortress of masks.

“Awkward silence here we come.”

As they rode, the day unfolded as crisp and clear as the morning had promised. The sky above was a piercing blue that seemed to stretch forever, broken only by the tops of snow-laden trees standing like frozen giants along the trail. Icicles hung from their branches, catching the sunlight in flashes that sparkled like jewels. It was the kind of scene that poets wrote about and painters captured on canvas, but Siuan barely noticed. 

Her attention wasn’t on the woods or the snow or the sprawling expanse of that brilliant sky. It wasn’t on the road ahead, either. No, her gaze kept straying, flickering sideways to the woman seated beside her, the woman wrapped in blue and silence.

Moiraine sat like a statue, her cheeks flushed from the cold but her eyes wide and alert as she watched the landscape roll by. The wind teased at the loose strands of her hair that had escaped her hood. Every so often, she’d reach up to tuck them back, the motion so deliberate and unhurried it could’ve been mistaken for calm. 

But Siuan knew better. 

For all her outward composure, tension radiated from Moiraine like heat off a fire. It was there, subtle but telling, in the way her fingers curled around the edge of her scarf, twisting the fabric in restless movements. She might’ve been quiet, might’ve been still, but she wasn’t at ease.

Siuan had a pretty good idea why. Going into town, getting dressed up, mingling with strangers at a big masquerade… it was all out of the woman’s control - and likely out of her comfort. Siuan couldn’t exactly blame her. If their roles were reversed, she’d probably be chewing the reins by now. Still, it begged the question: why had she agreed to come in the first place?

Not that Siuan would complain. But Moiraine could’ve said no, could’ve shut the whole thing down with one of her piercing looks, but here she was, sitting close enough that every bump in the road sent their shoulders brushing.

“You’re starin’ again.”

Siuan jolted in her seat, her grip slipping on the reins for just a second. “Ain’t starin’,” she shot back, far too quickly. Her voice had that defensive edge, the kind that only made her sound guiltier. “Just, uh… takin’ in the sights.”

She winced inwardly, realizing how clumsy it sounded the second the words left her mouth. Her brain scrambled for a save, and she waved a hand vaguely toward the snowy woods as if the scenery might bail her out of her own stupidity. “The winter, I mean,” she added quickly. “Sure knows how to put on a show, don’t it?”

Moiraine now turned to look at her, just a slight tilt of her hood. It wasn’t just a simple glance - no, it was that look. The one that said she already knew every thought in Siuan’s head. Damn it all, she was getting too predictable around this woman. And what was worse? The faintest flicker of amusement in Moiraine’s expression.

“You’re analyzing me,” she stated, her voice calm as ever, measured as ever, but infuriatingly knowing, almost matter-of-factly. 

Heat shot straight to Siuan’s face, and she bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the slight pain might ground her before she turned the color of a ripe tomato. “Analyzin’?” she echoed, trying to buy time. “Now, hold on. That ain’t-”

Moiraine’s lips quirked. “It’s not the first time, you know. You’re terribly obvious.” 

Siuan’s mouth opened, closed, then twitched into what was passing as a weak grin at best. “Alright,” she muttered. “You caught me. Guilty as charged. Guess I’m just wonderin’ if you’re ready for all this. Ball, masks, all ‘em city folks. You sure you ain’t gonna bolt the second we roll into town?”

“I’ll manage,” came the reply, but it sounded clipped and perfectly even, like she’d rehearsed it. “I’m sure the event will be quite… pleasant.”

Siuan snorted, glancing over with a raised brow. “Pleasant?” she repeated. “You’re talkin’ like you’re headin’ to a church service, not a party.”

“And you’re an expert in these matters, I suppose?” the huntress asked, her tone cool but with just enough edge to make it clear she was playing along.

”Hell yes, I am,” Siuan shot back without missing a beat, her grin widening now that she’d found her footing again. “I’ve been to enough to know what I’m talkin’ about. Look, let me give you the rundown. Masks or no masks, some things never change. Folks drinkin’ too much, bluffin’ through conversations they got no business bein’ in, and makin’ fools of themselves by midnight.”

“Charming.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Siuan laughed. “Who knows, you might even have fun. If you let yourself.”

The huntress didn’t respond right away, her gaze drifting back to the passing trees. Siuan let the silence stretch, giving the woman the space she apparently needed. But out of the corner of her eye, she caught these subtle signs again. The way fingers kept fidgeting, the quick tapping of a boot against the buggy floor. 

Moiraine wasn’t just uneasy. She was nervous. On edge in a way that twisted something deep in Siuan’s chest. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped short when the other woman beat her to it.

“Do you think anyone will recognize me?”

So this was the gist of the matter.

Siuan looked at her companion, surprised by the nervous shifting the question brought with it. “Highly doubt it,” she said firmly, her teasing drawl stripped away, leaving only certainty. “You’ll have a mask on all night, and it ain’t like regular folk’d know your face now anyhow. Not after all this time.”

Moiraine nodded faintly, but the movement barely seemed to register in the rest of her. Siuan didn’t have to look too hard to see the thoughts churning behind those blue eyes, spinning and circling with no clear way out.

“I truly want to enjoy this, Siuan,” she said after a moment, so quietly it almost got lost in the creak of the buggy’s wheel. “But the idea of mingling with strangers is…”

“Dauntin’?” Siuan glanced her way. 

The woman didn’t answer, not directly. Instead, her fingers continued their fidgeting, tugging at her scarf as though it might shield her from the world beyond.

“Hey now,” Siuan said, voice softening even further. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be right there with you, every step. And if it gets to be too much, we’ll make a quick exit. No questions asked.”

She meant it, too. Hell, if it came to it, Siuan would torch that whole soirée to ashes if it meant Moiraine could breathe easier. The thought must’ve shown in her face, because it earned her a faint smile. One that barely lifted the corners of Moiraine’s lips but felt like a victory all the same.

Still, that restless energy lingered. Siuan knew she wasn’t exactly good at comforting people, at saying the right thing when someone was scared or nervous. But for Moiraine, she’d damn well try.

“Look,” she started again. “I know you’re worried. And I get it - you can’t just shake your past and call it done. It don’t work like that. But you’re with me, alright? I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ happen to you. You got my word, remember?”

To drive the point home, she quickly tugged off her glove and held up her hand to the chill in the air. The faint scar from their oath was just a thin line now, almost easy to miss, but it carried the weight of a promise that no words could match.

Moiraine’s eyes lingered on the scar for just a moment too long. Her own gloved fingers flexed slightly, as if she could feel the blade’s touch from that night all over again. “How could I ever forgot,” she whispered. “I know I’m safe with you, Siuan.”

“Good. ‘Cause you are.” 

The fragility of the moment hit harder than a straight shot of whiskey, and it churned something fierce in Siuan’s gut; a fresh frenzy of those cursed butterflies she could never seem to get rid off. She swallowed hard, desperate to wrestle the feeling into something more manageable.

She needed an out, and she needed it fast. Something simple. Something light. Something to steer them back toward safer grounds. “So…,” she started, throwing out the first thing that came to her mind. “You figure out what you’re gonna be for the masquerade?”

The huntress’ shoulders rose in the faintest shrug, her lips tugging into one of those challenging, unreadable smiles that drove Siuan up the wall.

Siuan squinted at her, both grateful for the shift in topic and freshly annoyed by just how good the woman was at ducking anything resembling a straight answer. “Oh, don’t leave me hangin’. I don’t wanna show up dressed the same as you. Be bad for my reputation.”

That smile tugged wider, barely, but enough for Siuan to catch it. Still, Moiraine said nothing, the silence its own kind of answer.

Siuan groaned loud and theatrical, throwing her head back like a kid denied candy. “C’mon, Moiraine. Patience ain’t exactly my strong suit.”

“No, it’s not,” the other woman replied playfully. “I’d gathered that much. But patience is a virtue, you know.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Siuan muttered, though her grin betrayed her. “How am I supposed to coordinate if I don’t know what you’re wearin’?”

A flicker of amusement sparking in Moiraine’s eyes, though her expression remained as composed as ever. “I think you’ll manage,” she said, almost teasing. “A little mystery won’t kill you.”

“Won’t kill me, huh? Sure feels like it might,” Siuan sighed loud enough to wake the dead. “But fine. Have it your way. Just don’t blame me if we clash.”

The huntress’ lips twitched. “I’ll take the risk,” she replied, her tone smooth, effortlessly disarming as always. Then, like she’d caught a passing thought on the breeze, she tilted her head slightly, shifting the conversation with that quiet grace of hers. “Do you come to Valentine often?”

“From time to time,” Siuan replied casually. “Usually for business.”

“The kind of business I’d rather not know about?”

Siuan let out a low chuckle, leaning back as though putting some distance between herself and the subject. “Probably best you don’t, yeah.”

The huntress didn’t press, didn’t pry. Instead, she just nodded once. “Alright. I trust your judgment.” There was no sharp edge of disapproval, no judgment lurking beneath the surface. Just quiet acceptance.

The words were simple, easy even, but they landed heavier than Siuan expected, knocking her just a little off balance. Trust wasn’t something she was used to. It wasn’t something folks just handed over, especially not to someone like her. And coming from Moiraine, of all people, it felt like holding a pearl in dirty hands.

“You’re not bothered by it?” Siuan ventured, hesitant, afraid of the answer. 

“Bothered by what?”

“Y’know… what I do, the way I live. How I come by things.” Siuan’s voice trailed off, her jaw tightening as her eyes fixed straight ahead. “Most folks would be.” 

And that was the god’s honest truth. She had seen it too many times; glares shot her way, folks crossing the street to steer clear of her like trouble was catching. The buggy she borrowed for this trip alone would’ve earned her a pile of curses in most circles, though she hadn’t stolen it outright. Not this time. 

But Moiraine? She just sat there, chatting like none of it mattered. Like Siuan’s rough edges weren’t something to run from. It was… new, and it left Siuan wondering.

“We all have our paths, Siuan,” the huntress said at last. “I understand that your life is as much a circumstance you fell into as mine. It’s shaped you into who you are, and…” She paused briefly, her eyes softening just a touch. “I think you’re more than all right, for where it counts.”

This hit. For a moment, all Siuan could do was stare at the woman next to her. It wasn’t just what she had just said; it was the way she had said it, like it wasn’t up for debate. Like Siuan wasn’t just tolerable, like she was enough.

“You really think that?”

“I do.” The reply came without missing a beat, more like it was a given fact rather than a personal opinion. 

Siuan couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched across her face. “Guess that’s about the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a while.”

She shook her head, as if the movement could brush off the moment before it settled too heavy. But before she could get too lost in the unexpected warmth of Moiraine’s words, the winding dirt road opened up into the bustling chaos of Valentine.

The streets were filled with noise and movement, a current of energy that pulsed through the town. Festive banners hung from windows, and people milled about in high spirits, laughing and chatting. It was loud, bright, and alive in a way that should’ve felt inviting, but Siuan could sense the tension creeping back into her companion. 

Figuring a little quiet would go a long way, she veered the buggy off the main drag, guiding it down a narrow side street where the noise of the festivities dulled to a low hum. “We’ll stop here,” she said, pulling the buggy to a halt in the shadowed alley. “I’ll go grab the keys. Be back in a jiffy.” 

Inside, the place was far busier than what you’d normally expect for a small rancher’s town like Valentine. The air smelled faintly of spilled whiskey and tobacco, and the sharp clatter of voices mixed with the scrape of chairs and boots. 

She approached the front desk, where a young man, barely old enough to grow a proper beard, fidgeted nervously behind a ledger. Siuan leaned an elbow on the counter, shooting him an easy grin. “You look like you’re havin’ a grand ol’ time.”

The boy jumped, nearly knocking over the inkwell at his elbow. “Uh… ma’am, uh… welcome!” he stammered, his cheeks flushing as he scrambled to straighten the ledger. “Sorry, it’s just… real busy today.”

“No kiddin’.” She gave a pointed glance over her shoulder at the bustling lobby before turning back, lowering her voice to something softer. “Don’t worry son. I ain’t here to add to your troubles. Just need my key. Booking under Johnson.”

It wasn’t her name, obviously, but one could never be careful enough these days, especially since their last encounter with the Pinkertons. 

The boy blinked, his shoulders slumping in visible relief as he flipped through the ledger, his finger running down the list in a nervous rhythm. “Uh, yes, ma’am. Let’s see… Johnson, Johnson…” He stopped abruptly, his eyes lighting up with success. “Ah, here it is. One room for two, yes?”

Siuan’s grin faltered, her posture stiffening. “One?” she repeated. “Think you’re mistaken, boy. Two rooms for one is what I booked.”

The clerk’s face paled faster than spilled milk. “I’m- uh, I’m terribly sorry, ma’am,” he stammered. “Looks like there’s been a mix-up. We, uh… only have one room with a double bed available.”

“A double bed?!” Siuan’s voice rose, her words louder than she intended, drawing a few curious glances from the folks bustling around the lobby. She ignored them, her gut twisting into a knot she couldn’t entirely blame on anger. “Listen here, I booked two weeks ago. Paid extra for two rooms. Two. Not one. Not a double bed.”

The boy flinched, looking like he might melt into a puddle on the floor. “I-I understand, ma’am. I’m really sorry,” he stammered again, his words tripping over themselves. “I’m new here, and with the masquerade… it must’ve been an error on my part. But, uh, all the other rooms are booked solid. There’s nothing else available.”

Siuan let out a low, frustrated groan, dragging a hand down her face. “Boy, you’re killin’ me,” she muttered under her breath, glancing sideways at the ledger as if staring at it hard enough might summon a second room. No such luck.

She leaned back on the counter, her jaw clenching as she worked to rein in her temper. It probably wasn’t entirely the boy’s fault, not really, but damn if the situation didn’t grate on her nerves. Sharing a bed? With Moiraine? The thought of it made Siuan feel all kinds of awkward. She could already feel the tension building in her shoulders, the thought of trying to sleep inches away from the huntress setting her pulse on a path she didn’t much like.

Siuan exhaled sharply, her voice dropping to something more controlled but no less firm. “You’re sure there ain’t somethin’ you’re overlookin’? A spare cot, a broom closet?”

The boy shook his head quickly. “I-I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s really nothing else. With the event, every room in town’s booked up.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She could feel the beginnings of a headache building, pounding faintly behind her temples. “Alright,” she grunted. “Gimme the damn key.”

The young man’s relief was almost comical as he fumbled to hand it over. “Thank you for your understanding, ma’am. If there’s anything else you need-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Siuan cut him off with a dismissive wave. “Try not to let the place burn down, alright?” 

Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and strode back toward the alley. Back outside, Siuan put on her best casual smile.

“So, uhm, funny story,” she started, her voice betraying more nerves than she’d like. “Turns out they messed up my reservation. Only room left’s got one bed.”

Under normal circumstances, sharing a room wouldn’t have been a big deal. But Moiraine wasn’t a normal circumstance - not anymore, probably never had been.

The huntress’ expression, as always, gave away nothing. She tilted her head slightly. “And this is going to be a problem?” she asked.

Siuan blinked, thrown by the question. “I mean, probably not,” she stammered, not convinced by her own words. “But I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or nothin’. I can try to rustle up somethin’ else, or I can even head back if you’d rather-”

“It’s alright, Siuan,” the huntress interrupted softly. “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.”

“You sure? ’Cause I get it if-”

“I said it’s fine,” Moiraine said, a trace of a smile ghosting her lips. “We’ve shared a room before, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, but not a bed.” 

Siuan’s stomach did one of those flips again, the kind that made her want to simultaneously run for the hills and stay rooted right where she was. “Alright then,” she said, gesturing toward the back entrance door. “Let’s, uh… let’s get you settled.”

They moved inside with practiced caution, keeping their heads down to avoid prying eyes. Siuan, ever mindful of Moiraine’s need for discretion, guided them up the stairs and to the room with as little fuss as possible.

At the door to their room, she fumbled with the key for half a second before catching herself. She cleared her throat and pushed the door open. “After you,” she said, stepping aside to let the huntress enter first. 

The room was quaint, cozy in the way small-town inns were, with faded wallpaper curling at the edges and a single window overlooking the town square. It was simple, functional. But the bed - it was damn near impossible to ignore. It was way smaller than Siuan had anticipated, looked just wide enough to snugly fit two people. Real snug. 

“Well, home sweet home,” she muttered, acutely aware of just how close this arrangement was about to put them.

The other woman stepped further inside. Her gaze swept the room, lingering on the bed for half a breath longer than was casual. And then came the silence, awkward and heavy. 

Siuan shifted her weight, her mind scrambling for something to say. “You hungry?” she blurted out. “I can fetch us somethin’ to eat.” 

Moiraine shook her head with a polite smile. “I’m alright, thank you.”

“Well, uhm…” Siuan glanced toward the door, suddenly feeling like an intruder in her own room. “Reckon I’ll give you some space to get settled. Might take a stroll around town.”

“That’s considerate of you,” the huntress replied. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” Siuan said, tipping her hat with a nod before retreating to the door. She slipped out and shut it behind her with a soft click. The moment she was alone, she leaned back against the hallway wall, letting out a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Outside, the festive air buzzed with life, but it didn’t do much to calm the storm brewing in her gut. If anything, the noise and chaos only seemed to feed her nerves.

She stopped by the general store, more for distraction than purpose, and probably to kill some time. Inside, the air was warm, smelling of dried tobacco and freshly cut wood. The shopkeeper, a portly man with cheeks as red as a ripe apple, beamed at her from behind the counter like she was his best costumer. 

“Gearing up for the festivities?”

“Somethin’ like that,” she replied, drumming her fingers on the counter as she waited for him to fetch the cigarettes she’d asked for.

“Well, lady, it’s the best time of the year,” the man said with a hearty laugh, sliding the pack toward her across the worn wood. “Everyone’s in high spirits tonight.”

She gave a dry chuckle, tucking the pack into the inside pocket of her coat. “We’ll see ’bout that.”

With a polite nod, Siuan stepped out onto the porch, letting the door swing shut behind her. She lingered there for a moment, leaning lightly against the railing before fishing a cigarette from the pack. Striking a match, she lit it with a practiced motion and took a deep drag, letting the burn settle in her chest.

Her eyes drifted over the lively scene before her. Musicians played tunes on street corners while children darted between adults, their laughter ringing out over the clatter of wagon wheels. Couples strolled arm in arm, their smiles soft and carefree. Valentine had cleaned itself up nice for the evening, a rare shine on its rugged face for the new year.

Siuan watched it all from her spot by the porch, but her mind was elsewhere. Back in that room. With Moiraine. With everything the woman had said today.

She took another drag from her cigarette, exhaling a steady stream of smoke into the night air. “Don’t go readin’ into things,” she thought to herself. “She’s just bein’ polite, is all. Don’t mean a damn thing.” But the knot in her chest didn’t loosen, and the lazy flips in her stomach didn’t settle.

When the cigarette burned down to the filter, she flicked the butt into the dirt and ground it under her heel with a little more force than necessary. She’d dawdled long enough. It was time to get ready, and no amount of stalling was going to make her any less nervous.

Back at the inn, Siuan knocked softly on the door, her knuckles brushing against the wood with just enough force to be heard. She hesitated, her hand lingering on the doorknob, before slowly pushing it open.

“Siuan?” came from the inside.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she replied, stepping over the threshold - and freezing in her tracks. 

Moiraine stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the drape of her dress. The fabric was a rich blue, flowing like water over her figure. The neckline was modest but just daring enough to draw the eye, and a satin scarf rested lightly over her shoulders. Her brown hair spilled in soft waves over her back, and in her hands, she held a mask, apparently handcrafted from dark wood and dried blue flowers that matched her dress.

For an embarrassingly long moment, Siuan’s brain turned to mush. The sight was the kind of beauty that stopped time dead in its tracks, made a person forget how to breathe, and left you wondering if you’d ever seen anything in this sorry world that could compare.

The huntress turned slightly, catching Siuan’s reflection in the mirror before facing her fully. “How do I look?” she asked.

Siuan swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry as dust. “You, uh… you look-” She cleared her throat, forcing her voice to cooperate. “You look… absolutely amazin’.”  

The second the words left her mouth, her face burned hotter than the prairie sun. She immediately fumbled for something less obvious, less intense to say, but Moiraine didn’t seem to mind. In fact, a shy smile grew on the huntress’s lips.

“You’re too kind,” she said softly, though she glanced away and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The movement, small as it was, carried the sort of nervousness that made Siuan wonder if she had ever really heard a compliment like that before.

“It’s the truth,” Siuan blurted, suddenly feeling an inexplicable need to emphasize it, to make sure Moiraine knew she meant every word. “You look stunnin’. I mean… wow.”

But then she realized she was staring. Again. 

Her gaze dropped as fast as a rock in a river, and she rubbed the back of her neck in a futile attempt to ease the heat crawling up her spine. “I should probably… y’know, get ready myself,” she mumbled, glancing down at her travel-worn clothes like they were suddenly the worst offense she’d ever committed.

“Of course, take your time.”

Siuan nodded quickly, her hands already moving to her bag. She pulled out her clothes with more force than necessary, trying to focus on the task instead of the fact that Moiraine was still there, just a few feet away, looking like something out of a dream.

Then, an awkward pause followed. Siuan hesitated, glancing around the room. “Nowhere to change, huh?”

“Would you like me to step out?” Moiraine offered.

“No, no, it’s alright,” Siuan said quickly, waving the idea off. “Too cold out there, and too many nosy folks. You stay.”

Another pause lingered, thicker this time. Moiraine seemed to catch the unease in the air. “I’ll turn around,” she said simply, taking a step toward the door and turning around. 

“Appreciate it,” Siuan muttered.

The moment Moiraine turned, Siuan set to work, moving with the urgency of someone who didn’t trust their nerves to hold. She peeled off her shirt, and the chill in the air - or maybe something else - raised goosebumps along her arms.

As she tugged on her suit she couldn’t help but steal a glance at Moiraine’s reflection in the window. Was it her imagination, or had the huntress just peeked over her shoulder? No, that was absurd. Siuan dragged her focus back to her task, determined to stop acting like the lovesick, nervous pup she clearly was.

By the time she finished dressing, she stood in a deep blue suit that fit her like a glove. Silver accents on the cuffs and lapels added a touch of elegance she wasn’t accustomed to but didn’t entirely hate. Adjusting the sleeves, she ran her hands over the fabric, making sure everything was in place.

From her bag, she retrieved her mask; a handcrafted piece made of clay and adorned with tiny river shells. One side was painted in scales of blue and green, a nod to the water she came from and still carried with her. It reminded her of simpler times, back before life had pulled her down roads she hadn’t meant to take.

“All right,” she announced finally. “I’m decent.” 

Moiraine turned, her gaze sweeping over Siuan in one slow, deliberate movement. It wasn’t just a look; it was like she was taking her in, piece by piece, cataloging every detail. “We do match,” she observed, her lips curving into a smile. 

“Told you there’s a risk,” Siuan quipped.

The huntress stepped closer, the soft rustle of her dress barely audible over the relentless rush in Siuan’s ears. “Your suit is very handsome,” she said. Her fingers reached out, brushing the edge of Siuan’s mask with the lightest touch. “And your mask is beautiful. The shells… they’re from the coast?”

Siuan swallowed, caught off guard by the tenderness of the gesture. “From the river,” she said softly. “Reminds me of home. The mask, well, and the suit - I got ‘em from a hat maker in Saint Denis. Fella owed me a favor.”

They stood close now, so close that Siuan could catch the faintest trace of Moiraine’s perfume. It was something different this time, not lavender, but still something earthy and floral that reminded her of wildflowers after rain.

Siuan felt that maddening pull again, that invisible thread that tugged at her chest, urging her to close the gap. Her fingers twitched at her side, the instinct to reach out almost overwhelming. Just one step closer, one brush of her hand against Moiraine’s. But she held herself back, the effort near painful.

Instead, she forced herself to take a step back, breaking the spell with a bow and a grin. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” With practiced grace, she slipped her hand into the crook of Siuan’s arm.

Chapter Text

Valentine thrummed with energy, alive and buzzing like a kicked anthill. The streets were packed with people dressed in their finery, masks perched on their faces or dangling from gloved fingers, all making their way to the same shindig. 

The masquerade theme was unmistakable. Faces were hidden behind every kind of disguise imaginable; from delicate lace veils to ornate painted porcelain and even rough-cut leather that looked like it’d been slapped together at the last minute. 

Folks Siuan might’ve recognized on any other night were strangers now, transformed into mysterious figures by the shadows of their costumes. It was like stepping into another world, and for a moment, she felt out of place in the loud, wild chaos that was usually her lifeblood.

She yanked at the collar of her suit for what had to be the hundredth time, silently cursing it under her breath. The damn thing felt too tight and stiff, and the neckerchief wasn’t doing her any favors either. She wasn’t one for fancy clothes that made her feel boxed in. Dust, leather, and freedom - that was her uniform. But tonight, well… tonight would be a whole new chapter. 

Her gaze slid sideways to Moiraine. If the damn suit wasn’t enough to make her feel like a fish out of the water, the sight of her companion was the final nail in the coffin. The huntress was all grace and elegance, every detail flawless, not a hair out of place. Her blue dress shimmered under the lamplights as she walked, catching the glow and throwing it back in golden waves like she was born to wear stars on her skin.

Every step they took side by side sent tiny sparks racing up Siuan’s spine. And the weight of Moiraine’s hand resting lightly on her arm didn’t help much. Light as it was, that touch burned hotter than any campfire. 

Siuan clenched her jaw, willing her body to knock it off, to quit reacting like some foolish schoolgirl swooning over her first crush. But her heart refused to cooperate. It gave another one of those ridiculous, fluttering jolts that seemed to happen whenever Moiraine so much as breathed her way. She swallowed hard, forcing her focus forward as the saloon loomed closer. 

The place welcomed them with open arms. Music poured from a fiddle and banjo, boots stomped in time, and laughter collided with the clink of glasses. The warm glow of oil lanterns spilled across the room, throwing shadows into motion on the walls like the crowd had conjured up a spirit or two to join the fun.

If the noise or the press of bodies bothered Moiraine, she didn’t let it show. But then again, when did she ever let anything show? The woman was as hard to read as a cipher, and with the mask hiding half of her face, she was practically impossible to figure out. 

They wove their way through the throng, Siuan steering them toward the bar like it was the only solid ground in the place. “Care for a drink?” she called over the din, forcing her voice to sound casual, easy. Like she wasn’t two seconds away from combusting just over the fact that Moiraine’s hand was still clinging to her arm.

“Bourbon, if they have it.” 

Siuan raised an eyebrow, glancing at her companion with a grin. “Didn’t peg you for a whiskey woman,” she teased. “Figured you’d go for wine, maybe. Or one of those fancy lil’ cocktails.” 

Moiraine tilted her head, her mask hiding much of her expression, but not the spark of amusement in her eyes. “I like to keep you guessing,” she shrugged casually.

“Well, you’re doin’ a fine job of it,” Siuan muttered before she could think better of it.

Leaning her elbows against the bar, she flicked her fingers toward the bartender and slapped a couple of coins on the counter. A pair of glasses appeared in no time, the amber liquid inside gleaming like liquid gold. 

Siuan picked up one of the glasses and handed it over to Moiraine before lifting her own in a toast. “To new experiences.”

“To new experiences,” the other woman echoed, their glasses meeting with a soft clink.

The whiskey worked fast, as it often did, painting a subtle warmth across Moiraine’s cheeks. It wasn’t dramatic, just a faint, rosy glow that softened the sharp edges of her usual composure. Her shoulders loosened, the slight tension Siuan hadn’t even realized was there fading away. For once, she didn’t seem so guarded, so untouchable. She seemed real… and even more beautiful because of it.

One glass led to another, then another after that, and before they knew it, they were fully immersed in the moment. The liquor flowed as freely as the celebration around them, loosening tongues and lifting spirits. Siuan felt herself relaxing, her thoughts and worries dulled by the warm haze of booze and the sound of Moiraine’s laugh.

And, heavens above, her laugh. Her wonderful, disarming laugh.

It wasn’t the measured chuckle Siuan had heard before, reserved for small courtesies or clever remarks. No, this was something else entirely. It was bright, loud, and just a little bit wild, like Moiraine had finally let something go, something she’d been clutching too tight for far too long. 

Three glasses of whiskey, and she stopped guarding herself like a fortress under siege. And the result? A woman that was bolder, freer, and so damn charming it was downright dangerous. Yet somehow, she was still the same person who had stolen that deer right out from under Siuan’s nose, the one who had stood tall and defiant in the woods, as cold and unyielding as carved marble.

And damn it all, Siuan realized with a pang that she was falling for her more and more with every new layer that surfaced. Not just a little. Not just in the way you fall for someone’s pretty face or their clever jokes. It was deeper, and far more consuming.  

They leaned against the bar like old friends, drinks in hand, swapping stories as though the weeks since they met had somehow stretched into years. Siuan couldn’t remember the last time she felt this at ease, like the weight of the world had lifted just for a moment. And it wasn’t just the alcohol, it wasn’t even the lively celebration around them. It was her. It was the fact that being here, sharing stories, stealing glances, and laughing with Moiraine felt so natural.

“So there I was,” Siuan drawled, gesturing with her hands as if painting a picture in the air, “stuck up to my knees in mud, chasin’ after that damn hog that ran off with my hat. Must’ve been a sight - me, cussin’ like a sailor, slippin’ and slidin’ while the hog made a fool of me.”

Moiraine laughed, and Siuan swore it was the kind of sound you’d bottle up and save for the darkest days. “I would have paid to see that!”

“Well, maybe next time I’ll invite you along for the fun.” Siuan grinned, tipping her drink in Moiraine’s direction. “What about you, Miss Huntress? Any wild tales from the woods?”

The huntress in question traced the rim of her glass thoughtfully, taking a slow sip before answering. “Well, there was the time I had to steal my dinner back from a cougar.” 

Siuan straightened, her brows shooting up. “Pardon me, a cougar?!” She let out a short, incredulous laugh. “You’ve gotta be jokin’.”

“Not at all,” the other woman replied, her lips curling into a sly smile. “I’d just come back from hunting, caught myself a turkey, and left it outside by the creek while I fetched a knife and a bucket for cleaning. When I came back, there it was - dragging my turkey away like it owned it.”

Siuan leaned in, her drink momentarily forgotten. “So what’d you do? Just let it have the turkey?”

Moiraine scoffed, the sound playful and so uncharacteristic it drew an even bigger grin from Siuan. “Absolutely not! I worked hard for that meal,” she said, lifting her chin as if daring anyone to question her. “So, I grabbed the bucket and clanged it against the nearest tree until the little thief dropped it. It hissed at me, sure… but I hissed right back.”

Siuan blinked, then blinked again, trying to process what she’d just heard. “You’re tellin’ me,” she said slowly, fighting the laughter bubbling up in her chest, “that you fought a cougar… with a bucket… and a hiss?” 

“Not fought, no.” Moiraine’s eyes glittered with humor behind the mask. “I’d say I negotiated. And obviously, I won.”

Siuan let out a bark of laughter, shaking her head as the unlikely image planted itself firmly in her mind. “I gotta say, this story sounds mighty familiar. You really don’t let anyone steal your prey, huh?”

The huntress’ smile widened into something downright mischievous. “Are you just now admitting that deer back then was mine?” she challenged playfully.

“Oh, c’mon now.” Siuan smirked, leaning a little closer. “You know the truth.”

“I do indeed,” Moiraine replied smoothly, a wink punctuating her words.

Before Siuan could think of a smart quip a loud cheer erupted from the back of the saloon, cutting through their banter. She turned toward the noise, spotting a cluster of bodies gathered tightly around a table.

“What’s all the ruckus about?” she muttered, her brow furrowing as she tried to get a better look.

“Let’s find out,” Moiraine said, tugging on Siuan’s sleeve. “Come on.” 

Before she could argue, the huntress was already weaving through the crowd, her grip firm enough to pull Siuan along without protest. Together, they pushed their way through the sea of bodies until they reached the source of the commotion. 

At the center of a makeshift ring of spectators sat a man wearing a grey fox mask, his hand splayed wide on the scuffed wood of the table. In his other hand, a hunting knife gleamed dangerously as it darted between his fingers with terrifying precision.

“Ah, five finger fillet,” Siuan explained with a smirk, crossing her arms as she leaned toward her companion. “Real popular ’round these parts. Not exactly the safest pastime, though.”

“It’s fascinating,” Moiraine mused, her eyes fixed on the flashing blade. Her expression was as unreadable as ever, but still, the faint spark of intrigue beneath her mask was impossible to miss.

“It’s stupid, is what it is,” Siuan countered, shooting her a sidelong glance. “You ever seen this game before?”

But before she could get an answer, the man finished his show with a flourish, slamming the knife into the table with a satisfied grin. He stood up, spreading his arms wide as he scanned the crowd. “Who’s got the guts to take me on?” he called, his voice a dare in itself. “Who thinks they’ve got a steadier hand than me?”

“I’ll take a turn,” Moiraine said suddenly, stepping forward before Siuan could even process the words. 

Her jaw nearly dropped. No, scratch that - it did drop. “Whoa, hold on now,” Siuan blurted, her hand shooting out to grip Moiraine’s arm and pull her back. “Ain’t no need to risk those pretty fingers of yours.”

The huntress turned to her, calm as ever, though the glint of mischief in her eyes nearly unraveled Siuan entirely. “I can handle it,” she said, smooth and unbothered, like she wasn’t just volunteering to do something downright reckless.

“Lady’s got spirit!” someone shouted, and the gathering erupted into a cacophony of encouragement and approval. “Let her play!” 

Siuan groaned under her breath, her fingers tightening around the grabbed arm like she could physically hold her back. “You ain’t seriously gonna do this?”

“Trust me,” the huntress whispered, her tone pitched low enough to keep their conversation between them. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Siuan sucked in a sharp breath, but before she could muster another argument, Moiraine slipped free of her grip and pulled off her gloves in one graceful motion. Her fingers were slender and pale, and made Siuan’s throat tighten for more reasons than one. 

Every inch of her protested this. She wanted to do something, to step in and stop whatever train wreck this was bound to be, but the way Moiraine carried herself kept her rooted in place. For better or worse, she’d have to trust her. 

Siuan glanced around, noting how the crowd had gone quiet, anticipation hanging thick in the air as Moiraine took her seat across from the fox-masked man.

“First time?” he taunted, his grin widening with mockery.

Moiraine didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She met his gaze, cool and composed as ever. “Not quite.”

“Well then, bring it on,” the man chuckled, leaning back in his chair with an air of arrogance that grated on Siuan’s nerves. “Ladies first.”

“How gallant,” the huntress quipped dryly.

Moiraine picked up the knife with poised confidence. She turned it over once, testing its weight, her composed demeanor betraying none of the whiskey coursing through her. The murmurs rippling through the onlookers were nearly audible now, every pair of eyes locked on her as she began.

The first taps were light, deliberate, and slow. The blade moved cautiously between her fingers, syncing with the rhythm of the fiddle drifting through the saloon. Siuan felt her own shoulders loosen a fraction. So far, so good. Moiraine’s focus was sharp, her movements precise and careful.

But then the tempo changed - and the blade became a blur. 

Moiraine’s hand picked up speed, startling speed, and the knife was darting between her fingers in a way that didn’t quite fit the picture of lost royalty. The clicks and thuds against the wood came faster and sharper until the blade danced like it had a mind of its own. 

Siuan couldn’t tear her eyes away, and she silently braced herself for a pain that wasn’t even hers to feel. Her gut twisted with every rapid motion, half-expecting the huntress to slip any given moment now, to hear that sharp gasp that usually followed when recklessness turned into a mistake.

But it never came. 

Moiraine’s performance built to a crescendo until, with one final, decisive motion, she drove the knife into the table. The blade quivered for a moment before stilling, the space around her erupting into a stunned silence.

Not a single nick marred her skin.

The crowd exploded into cheers, a deafening roar of admiration and disbelief. The earlier jeers and taunts melted away, replaced by loud hollers and wild applause. 

Moiraine leaned back with an elegance that seemed to mock the danger of what she’d just done. Her lips curved into a satisfied smile that practically screamed ‘I told you so’ as her eyes found Siuan’s across the crowd. 

Siuan shook her head, her grin breaking wide with equal parts disbelief and admiration. “Where the hell’ve you been hiding that?” she muttered, though her words were swallowed by the noise around her. 

The huntress turned her attention back to the fox-masked man, her chin tilting ever so slightly in a silent, regal challenge. “Your turn,” she said cooly, as though the knife game was nothing more than a casual party trick.

The man huffed, grabbing the metal with an irritated snap of his hand. To his credit, he was good, Siuan had to admit that. The blade darted between his fingers in a swift, clean rhythm, earning cheers from the bystanders as he finished his turn without incident. 

But no matter how skilled he was, the raw grace and effortless poise of Moiraine’s turn had already stolen the show. The crowd’s energy shifted, and even in their cheers, there was no mistaking who the true victor was. The man knew it, too. His face darkened under the mask, and with a gruff mutter, he shoved the knife back into the table and left the spotlight to its rightful owner.

And then, those piercing blue eyes shifted back to Siuan.

The gaze landed squarely on her, and it sent a bolt of electricity straight through her chest. She knew exactly what that look meant; the huntress had chosen her next opponent.

“Damn it, Moiraine.”

Siuan’s mind was already listing all the reasons why this was a terrible, terrible idea. For starters, she’d had too much whiskey. Hell, both of them had. The game was dangerous enough sober. But above all else, the last thing she needed was to fumble in front of her, someone who had the ability to turn her into a jittery mess with just the barest flick of those maddeningly long lashes.

“You’re outta your mind,” she thought to herself, and yet, there she was, settling into the chair anyway. She planted her elbows on the table, gripping the knife with more confidence than she felt, and silently prayed for steady hands despite the booze and the bewitching woman across from her.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Siuan teased, glancing up at her opponent with a lopsided grin. “We can stop riskin’ your fingers, y’know. I hear they’re quite useful for holdin’ a huntin’ rifle.”

Moiraine arched a brow. “Oh, I’ll be just fine. But you…,” she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to draw Siuan closer without realizing it, “…you’re looking a little nervous.” 

“Nervous? Me?” Siuan scoffed, letting the knife spin once between her fingers in what she hoped was a convincing display of her skills. “I’ve handled things rougher than this game. You’ll see.” 

The huntress’ eyes sparkled with a glint of mischief, her lips curving into a smile that made Siuan’s heart do its stupid little flip again. “Then show me.”

“Guess I will.” She laid her hand flat on the table. “But first, you gotta tell me - where’d you learn to handle a blade like that?”

“Let’s make a deal,” Moiraine replied, her voice dipping into something that wasn’t quite a purr but close enough to make Siuan’s pulse skip. She reached forward, her fingertip trailing along the knife’s handle, slow and deliberate, like she knew exactly the kind of effect it had. “I’ll tell you… but only if you play against me.” 

That tone, that gesture - it wasn’t meant for a friendly challenge. It was something else entirely. Something that struck like lightning, hot and immediate, starting a fire low in Siuan’s belly. 

Perfect. Exactly what she needed. Distracting thoughts while she was about to stab sharp metal between her fingers. But hell, her hands were already a map of cuts and scars, each one telling some tale of old mistakes and bad decisions. What was one more scar to add to the collection anyway?

She splayed her fingers wide, fixing her gaze on her hand and forcing herself to block out the crowd, the whiskey in her system, and, most of all, the woman sitting across from her. 

She tapped the table once, twice, and began.

Her movements were practiced, each strike of the knife little more confident than the last. She focused on the rhythm of the blade, the steady beat that matched the thrum of her pulse. And when she finished, without a single slip, the saloon erupted into cheers once more. 

A grin broke across Siuan’s face as she leaned back in her chair, exhaling deeply. She glanced up, and there it was again, that playful, unreadable smile on her opponent’s lips.

“Impressive,” Moiraine said, calmly reaching for the knife. 

Her turn wasn’t just skillful - it was art. She didn’t simply play the game; she commanded it. The knife flashed like liquid fire under the golden lamplight, her hand moving with a precision so effortless it bordered on infuriating.  

Moiraine glanced at the blade, then at Siuan, and the corner of her lips curled into an expression of pure, quiet confidence. It was a wordless statement - she wasn’t done just yet. Then, as if to drive the point home, she quickened her pace even more, her eyes never breaking from her opponent’s.

But then it happened. 

A tiny slip. 

The tip of the knife grazed the side of her pinky, leaving a faint red line in its wake. It wasn’t much, barely a scratch, but the murmurs rippled through the crowd like a wave, breaking the spell of Moiraine’s flawless performance.

Siuan’s breath hitched. “Are you alright?” she blurted. 

As if in slow motion, the huntress set the knife down with meticulous care, lifting her hand to inspect the damage. A single bead of blood welled at the cut, glinting under the lamplight like a ruby. “Just a scratch,” she murmured, but her voice was distant, as though the words were meant more for herself than anyone else.

Siuan only now realized she’d been holding her breath. Her eyes darted from the bead of blood to Moiraine’s face, and that’s when she noticed her strange expression. 

It wasn’t pain. Nor was it frustration, embarrassment, or anger at slipping up. 

Moiraine’s lips were slightly parted, and a soft, uneven breath slipped past them. Her chest rose and fell like she’d just run a mile, but exhaustion wasn’t what Siuan saw in her face either. No, this was something different, something that made her feel as though she was peering into something deeply private. 

“Sure you’re alright?” Siuan asked again, her voice softer now.

The words seemed to break her trance. Moiraine blinked, her expression snapping back to its usual cool neutrality like a door slamming shut. “I’m fine,” she said briskly, wiping the blood away with the edge of her glove as though it was nothing more than spilled water. “Looks like you win this one.”

The people around them erupted into a final cheer, their applause oblivious to the tension still hanging between the two women. Siuan barely registered the noise, her gaze fixed on Moiraine, who was already stepping back from the table. 

Before she could think better of it, Siuan skirted the table, her hand brushing lightly against the other woman’s arm. The touch wasn’t rough, but it was firm enough to guide her away from the chaos. And away from whatever moment had just passed between them.

Once they were out of earshot, Siuan leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “Alright,” she drawled, her tone walking the line between teasing and serious. “I’ll take your word for it that you’re fine, but seriously - enlighten me. What’s goin’ on? And where’d you learn knife tricks like that?”

Moiraine shrugged, slipping her gloves back on with practiced elegance. “My father taught me,” she said casually, as though it was the most obvious explanation in the world. “He said it’s good to have a few tricks up my sleeve. And, well, life up in the mountains can be rather dull, so it became a welcome activity.” 

Siuan let out a soft huff, rubbing the back of her neck as she considered that. “Well, if he could see you now, reckon he’d be proud,” she said with a half-smile. “Bestin’ outlaws at their own games… and damn near givin’ ’em a heart attack in the process.” 

That earned her a little quirk of a smile from Moiraine. “First of all, I didn’t best you,” she teased lightly. “And second, you’re awfully worried for someone who just won.”

“Ain’t about winnin’ or losin’,” Siuan muttered, her voice gruffer than she intended. “Just didn’t wanna see you lose a finger or get hurt, is all.”  

For a moment, the huntress didn’t say anything, her mouth opening slightly like she was searching for a response. But then she cleared her throat, a gesture Siuan couldn’t remember seeing from her ever before. Before she could dwell on it, Moiraine turned her head just enough to avoid her gaze, and that’s when Siuan caught it; a faint flush creeping up her neck, barely noticeable but enough to leave her wondering. 

“What in the blazes is goin’ on with her?”

“It’s getting a bit stuffy in here,” Moiraine said abruptly, her words clipped, as though she were grasping for a way to steer the moment back under her control. “Can we step outside?”

Siuan squinted, suspicion mixing with curiosity as she studied her companion. “Sure,” she said finally, pushing off the wall with a lazy shrug. “Reckon I could use some air myself.”

The saloon’s porch offered a welcome relief, the cold night air slicing through the fog of liquor and adrenaline. Out here, the world felt slower, the noise dimmed, leaving just the two of them in the soft glow of the lantern light.

“Feels good to breathe somethin’ other than cigar smoke,” Siuan said, leaning her forearms against the porch railing and tipping her head back.

“Indeed,” Moiraine murmured, mirroring the pose and lifting her eyes to the sky. “The stars are stunning tonight.”

“Yep,” Siuan agreed, following her gaze to the inky expanse above that was freckled with silver. “Spent plenty of nights under those stars, y’know. They were about the only company I had at times.”

The other woman turned to her, her expression softening in a way that made something in Siuan’s chest twist. “That must have been lonely,” she offered, the words careful but direct.

Siuan shrugged, her lips curling into a small, self-deprecating smile. “Guess I got used to it. Never really bothered me before. But lately…”

“Lately?”

“Well, lately, I’ve come to appreciate… good company.” 

For a heartbeat, there was only the murmur of distant laughter and music. Then, so softly Siuan almost doubted it happened, Moiraine’s fingers brushed against hers. The touch was brief, so light it might have been a mistake, a slip, or perhaps nothing at all.

“So do I.” 

Siuan glanced down at their hands, the ghost of that touch still lingering in the space between them. “I know I don’t open up much,” she began before she could even think twice about her words. “Don’t say nice things easy. Ain’t exactly in my nature.” Her eyes flicked up to search Moiraine’s face. “But with you… it’s different.”

“Different how?” 

She held her gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just this - just Moiraine. “Feels like… I don’t have to hide,” she admitted. “Don’t reckon that’s a feelin’ I’ve known too well.”

“No, you don’t have to hide, Siuan,” the huntress whispered. “Not with me.”  

For a long moment, they stayed like that, the tension between them shifting into something quieter but no less potent. Finally, Siuan nodded toward the saloon doors. “Think we oughta head back in? Don’t wanna miss the rest of the fun.” Her voice was casual, but her throat felt way tighter than it should. 

Moiraine’s gaze lingered, her blue eyes searching Siuan’s for a beat longer than felt reasonable. Then, with the faintest tug of a smile, she inclined her head. “Perhaps we should.”

Together, they stepped back inside, the saloon’s lively hum wrapping around them once more. But as they crossed the threshold, Siuan noticed that the mood had shifted. The jaunty, raucous music from earlier had given way to something slower - and way more intimate.

She froze, her pulse kicking up a notch as her eyes landed on the dance floor. The sight of couples swaying close, lost in their own little worlds, made her want to bolt for the nearest exit… or at least the bar.

“Think it’s time for a refill,” she muttered, jerking her thumb toward the counter and already turning away from the growing crowd of dancers. But before she could take another step, a hand closed over her arm, halting her in her tracks. 

“Dance with me.” 

Siuan froze, staring at Moiraine like the woman had just asked her to jump off a cliff. Her mind blanked, her boots suddenly feeling cemented to the floor. “Me?” she croaked. “Dance?”

“Yes, you. Dance with me,” she repeated. Then, with one simple word, she shattered what was left of Siuan’s defenses. “Please?” 

Ah, hell. Puppy eyes. The most disarming pair Siuan had ever seen, turning her brain to mush like ice left out in the desert sun. 

She let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck as her mind scrambled for an escape route. “I, uh… don’t really…” She trailed off, fumbling for an excuse. “I ain’t much of a dancer. Two left feet and all.” She waved vaguely toward the crowded dance floor, as if the thought of her out there was the punchline to some cosmic joke.

“Nonsense,” Moiraine replied smoothly. “I’ll show you.” 

Siuan sucked in a breath, wiping her clammy palms against her trousers under the guise of adjusting them. “Alright,” she muttered finally. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Moiraine’s hand slipped from her arm to her hand, her fingers curling around Siuan’s with a featherlight touch. It was delicate but firm, carrying an unspoken assurance that this was happening whether Siuan believed in herself or not. Before she could offer another protest, Moiraine led her toward the cluster of dancing couples. 

As they stopped, Siuan’s boots felt impossibly heavy, like they might sink her straight through the floor. The bravado she usually carried so effortlessly had evaporated, leaving her feeling unbearably exposed and clumsy. 

It wasn’t that she’d never danced before. She had, once or twice, in some forgotten saloon after too many drinks, with someone whose name she’d forgotten by sunrise. But this here was different.

Siuan stood, stiff as a board, feeling about as graceful as a cow on ice. Her limbs seemed too long, her hands too cold and clammy. And speaking of hands… they hovered awkwardly as she tried to figure out where the hell to put them. She had no damn clue what to do with them. Well, actually she did, in theory - and that was exactly the problem.

“Here,” Moiraine whispered, taking Siuan’s hand and guiding it to rest on her waist. “Hold here.” 

Siuan’s heart stuttered in her chest, her palm burning against the fabric of the dress.

“And this one…,” she continued, gently lifting Siuan’s other hand and threading their fingers together, “…this stays right here with me.” 

For a moment, Siuan’s mind went blank again. All she could focus on was the way their hands fit together, like some puzzle she hadn’t even known needed solving. The intimacy of it all hit her like a bolt to the chest, leaving her scrambling to find her footing.

“Just follow my lead,” the huntress murmured, her voice low and soothing. 

And true to her word, she guided them through the steps with a grace that left Siuan in awe. At first, Siuan shuffled awkwardly, her boots scuffing against the floor as she muttered apologies whenever she stumbled or stepped too close. But Moiraine never faltered, her patience as steady as her rhythm. With each misstep, she offered a soft smile, coaxing Siuan into something resembling confidence.

Slowly, they found their rhythm. The edges of the room blurred, the crowd fading into a swirl of color and sound. Eventually, Siuan stopped focusing on her own clumsiness and let herself be carried by the dance.

“You’re holding me like I’m made of glass,” Moiraine chuckled after some time, clearly teasing. 

Siuan’s cheeks burned beneath her mask. “Well,” she muttered, “you’re all done up fancy. Last thing I wanna do is scuff you up.”

“You’re doing just fine,” she assured her. “Relax.”

Siuan tried. Really, she did. 

She zeroed in on the music, the steps, the rhythm. Anything but the intoxicating proximity of the woman in her arms. But Moiraine’s perfume wrapped around her senses, making focus impossible. Every sway brought them closer, their movements syncing in a way that felt far more intimate than it should.

“You’re still so tense,” Moiraine murmured, her breath brushing against Siuan’s cheek in a way that was entirely electrifying and entirely unfair. 

“Just… focusin’,” Siuan mumbled, her voice gruff as her gaze dropped to their joined hands. “Don’t wanna make a fool of myself.” Her thumb shifted slightly, brushing over the curve of Moiraine’s fingers - a small, unintentional touch that sent another spark racing right through her. 

Moiraine’s lips curved, her tone dipping into something even softer. “You couldn’t. Not in my eyes.” She squeezed Siuan’s hand in response. “And just for the record, tonight’s been… very lovely so far. Far better than I expected. I’m glad I let you talk me into coming.” 

Siuan couldn’t help herself; she glanced - no, stared - at her dancing partner, desperately trying to read her. To see if she felt it too, that charged hum in the air between them, the weight of emotions left unspoken but still heavy enough to crush the delicate space between their bodies. 

Siuan’s throat tightened, her lips parting as she summoned the courage to finally bridge the aching gap between what was and what could be. To finally say something. Anything. All. 

“Moiraine, I-“   

Before she could even begin to speak, the soft music abruptly cut off, the tender moment suddenly shattered by a loud cheer that erupted from the crowd. Siuan blinked, dazed, her words dying in her throat as reality rushed back. 

It was nearly midnight. The saloon buzzed with excitement, the room alive with voices counting down in anticipation. Revelers clapped and laughed, drinks sloshing over the edges of glasses, but Siuan barely noticed the countdown beginning.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”  

The chant surged around her, but the voices blurred into static. Siuan’s pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything except the woman in front of her. The way her lips parted slightly, the way her blue eyes sparkled with something raw and vulnerable behind her mask.

“Seven! Six!”  

Siuan leaned in slightly, instinct overriding caution. It wasn’t intentional, wasn’t planned - it was like being drawn by an invisible force she was powerless to resist. All she could think about was closing the distance, pressing her lips to Moiraine’s, finally crossing the line she’d been tiptoeing along for what felt like forever.

“Five! Four!”  

But reality reared its ugly head, clawing at her resolve. Two women, here, in the middle of a packed saloon, in a world that wouldn’t understand. Hell, even Moiraine herself might not understand.

“Three! Two!”  

But that didn’t stop her from wanting it. From imagining it. From aching for it. Siuan had spent countless hours, countless nights wondering what it might be like; to tell Moiraine how she felt, to touch her, to kiss her. And for one breathless second, the possibility hung in the air, tantalizing and terrifying in equal measure.

“One!“ 

Cheers erupted, glasses clinked, hats flew into the air, and voices soared in jubilant celebration. Confetti floated lazily from the ceiling like multicolored snowflakes, but for Siuan, the entire world narrowed to one person and one person only.  

Moiraine’s gaze held hers through the noise and chaos. Her eyes, usually so guarded, were startlingly open and bottomless. There was something in them, something like a question, and it felt like it was meant just for Siuan to see and answer.

But she hesitated. 

The pull between them was undeniable, yes, and growing stronger with every heartbeat. But the weight of what could happen pressed down hard. She didn’t know what lay on the other side of that pull, what it might change - or ruin. And if it did ruin everything… she wasn’t sure she could live with that.

So, she did the only thing she knew she could do; she stepped closer and pulled Moiraine into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around her with a desperation she couldn’t quite hide. 

“Happy New Year,” she murmured, her voice thick as her lips brushed the other woman’s cheek. The kiss she pressed there was brief, but it carried more meaning than she dared to say aloud. 

For a moment, Siuan thought she might’ve gone too far. But then she felt Moiraine’s arms come around her, just as fiercely. “Happy New Year,” she whispered back.  

The embrace lingered, stretching far beyond what anyone might call a casual hug between friends. But neither of them seemed willing to let go just yet.

Siuan’s heartbeat thundered in her chest, and she swore Moiraine could feel it. Closing her eyes, she let herself sink into the moment, savoring the warmth, the delicate scent of lavender that clung to Moiraine‘s hair. 

Just for a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to have this, this closeness, this warmth, this intimacy. To have her. Just for one second, long enough to pretend it was something she could keep. Something that could last.

When she finally pulled back, her hands lingered on Moiraine’s waist, unwilling to sever their connection entirely. The air between them was heavy, charged, suffocating in its intensity. 

“Moiraine,” Siuan began. Her words trembled, caught between the fear of being too much and the ache of not being enough. “There’s something I need to tell you. Whenever I’m around you, I… I feel like-”

Before the confession could escape, a group of revelers stumbled into them, their laughter breaking the delicate moment like a smashed bottle. Siuan stiffened and her jaw tightening as frustration burned low in her chest. Of all the rotten timing.

But just as she wanted to throw some curses their way, a familiar voice rang out behind her.

“Oi, Siuan! That you?”

Chapter Text

“Oi, Siuan! That you?” 

Siuan’s shoulders stiffened. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who was hollering at her, but she did it anyway, slowly, like she might somehow delay the inevitable. Sure enough, the all-too-familiar crew was stumbling her way, loud and chaotic, like a herd of drunk cattle that’d gotten into the moonshine stash. 

Damn it all to hell.

She should have known better. She did know better. Valentine wasn’t the sort of place where you could just blend in like that, mask or no mask. Anonymity had always been a cheap fantasy when people knew your stride, your hat, or the way you leaned on a bar. 

What really had her gut twisting, though, wasn’t the sight of Alanna’s fat grin or Thom’s swaying silhouette. It was the moment they might’ve glimpsed just before hollering - the one where she’d leaned in too close to Moiraine, close enough to taste her breath, almost forgetting she was about to do the very thing she’d been telling herself not to do.

If Alanna or Thom or Lan had caught her looking at Moiraine like that… She pressed her lips thin, trying to swallow her own panic.  Had they seen something? God help her if they had. 

The crew stumbled towards them, laughing too loud and bumping into everyone like they owned the place. Alanna led the charge, grinning like she’d just struck gold, her cheeks glowing with booze. She half-dragged, half-steered Thom by the arm, keeping him upright as he clutched a whiskey bottle like it was some sort of sacred relic. His masks dangled off one ear, completely forgotten, like he’d already given up on the masquerade pretense hours ago. Trailing behind them was Lan, more chaperone than accomplice, but Siuan saw him tracking every twitch of her face.

“San-che!” Thom bawled, dragging her name like it was written on a banner over her head. “We knew that was you! Can’t hide behind no mask. Not with that big ol’ swagger of yours!” 

Siuan pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed through it. She’d made such a show at camp, swearing up and down she wasn’t coming to this event. Too busy, she’d told them. Pressing matters to tend to, she’d said. Yes, even on New Year’s Eve, she’d argued. Real convincing, she’d thought at the time. Hell, she’d been sure they bought it, and she’d let herself believe she’d scored a rare night of peace.

But no. Of course not. Peace had never followed Siuan Sanche - it fled the second it saw her coming. 

“God gracious,” she muttered under her breath, dragging her hand down her face before risking a sideways glance at Moiraine, half-dreading what she’d find. 

Siuan had braced herself for some look of disapproval or annoyance, maybe. Or a refined scowl tugging at that composed face, irritated at being dragged into this mess - anything to make this situation worse. But no. The huntress stood there, as calm and composed as ever, watching these unruly folk with a faint, almost amused curve at the corner of her lips. It wasn’t a full smile, just enough to say she wasn’t mad. No anger, no disdain. Just… mild interest. 

Siuan couldn’t decide if that made it better or worse.

“If that’s not my favorite Siuan, as she lives and breathes!” Alanna boomed, stopping just short of barreling into her. She planted her hands on her hips and gave Siuan a look so smug it could’ve knocked a bird out of the sky. “And look at you! All dolled up! And with company, no less.“ She gave a meaningful little tilt of her head toward Moiraine, her grin spreading even wider. 

Siuan tipped her hat, forcing her expression into something flat and uninterested. “Evenin’, folks,” she drawled, keeping her tone dry enough to make kindling. Maybe -  maybe - if she kept it short, they’d get bored and wander off. A long shot, that, but a girl could hope.

“Evenin’? Thats it?” Alanna repeated with exaggerated offense, clutching her chest like she’d been mortally offended. “That’s all I get? Not even a ‘good to see you, Alanna’, or a ‘happy new year, Alanna, my charming, brilliant, trusted friend and brightest star in the damn sky’? Not even a little smile?”  

Siuan sighed again, not bothering to reply.

”You said you weren’t comin’,” Thom slurred, wobbling slightly as he pointed a finger her way like he’d just cracked some grand conspiracy.

“Changed my mind,” Siuan said curtly, her shoulders tensing. She didn’t owe them an explanation, not really, but she silently prayed these fools wouldn’t sniff out to the real reason she was here.

“Changed your mind?” Alanna crowed, her grin spreading even wider. “Didn’t you say - let me remember the exact poetry - ‘Hell freezes over ’fore I waste my time at some fancy masquerade in this shit hole called Valentine’?” 

Siuan forced a shrug, pairing it with a smirk she didn’t feel. “Guess hell’s got a bit of frost on it now,” she said, tipping her hat lower. She glanced at Thom, who was still clutching his whiskey bottle like it held the meaning of life. “Y’all had yourselves a fine night, huh?” she added, eyeing the group.

“Don’t change the subject, darlin’,” Alanna sing-songed, redirecting her attention to the woman beside Siuan. “What about the lovely lady you’ve got there, mh? Must be someone special, seein’ as you’ve actually gone and cleaned up for once.”

“The lovely lady has a name,” Moiraine cut in before Siuan could even open her mouth, her voice slicing clean through the drunken chatter. “And I’d prefer to be asked directly, thank you.” 

That shut her up. For one glorious, blessed moment, Alanna’s grin slackened. Even Thom, mid-sway, seemed momentarily sober as they all turned their attention to the huntress. 

Siuan bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from grinning, but the corner of her mouth twitched all the same. She felt a ripple of satisfaction run through her. Moiraine didn’t need rescuing - if anything, she was running this show. And damn if it wasn’t something worth seeing. 

“Well, pardon me,” Alanna said finally, clearly delighted by the challenge. She gave an theatrical bow as she addressed the huntress properly. “And what do they call you then, ma’am?”

“Moiraine,” she replied, her name rolling off her tongue with the kind of quiet confidence that could silence a room. She offered a faint tilt of her head. “I suppose you are all friends of Siuan’s?”

“More like family,” Thom slurred, clapping a hand on Lan’s shoulder hard enough to make the man shift his stance. “The kind that shows up uninvited and tears the place apart. Ain’t that right, bud?” 

Lan didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t drunk, not like the others, at least. No, he was sharp, calculating. Watching. The look on his face made it clear he was clocking every detail, like he was adding up a sum in his head. His eyes flicked from Siuan to Moiraine and back again, before he gave a polite, measured nod.

“Something like that,” he said simply. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Moiraine. I’m Lan, Siuan’s… associate.”

The huntress returned the nod gracefully. “Likewise.” 

“Babysitter,” Alanna corrected, laughing, leaning hard on Thom and flashing a smirk that practically dared Siuan to bite back. “And unofficial translator, since half the time Siuan’s too busy cursin’ to herself to make any sense.”

At that, Siuan clapped her hands together, stepping forward with a deliberate move to block their view of Moiraine. “Well, now that introductions are outta the way, why don’t y’all run along and find someone else to bother, mh?”

“No way in hell,” Alanna teased, refusing to budge. “You show up with a mysterious friend and think we’ll just wander off? No questions asked? Didn’t even know you had those, Siuan. Friends, I mean. Besides us, that is.”

“And pretty friends at that,” Thom added, his bleary gaze sliding toward the huntress. His eyes, unfocused and glassy, lingered longer than they should have, though he swayed precariously, looking one good sniff of booze away from face-planting. 

Moiraine, however, didn’t so much as blink under his scrutiny, making it very clear that his once-over wasn’t landing. Siuan, on the other hand, stiffened with anger. Her jaw clenched tight enough to crack a tooth, her voice dropping into a low growl. 

“Mind your damn manners, Thom,” she hissed. “Or I’ll remind you why I’m the one who usually gets sent to clean up your messes.”

The man blinked, slow and dull, clearly too drunk to pick up on the warning in her tone. “Just givin’ the lady a compliment,” he said, swaying slightly as he lifted his bottle. “It ain’t every day we see you escortin’ someone with class.”

Siuan’s retort was locked and loaded, ready to fire, but Alanna seized the moment to slip past her to stand beside Moiraine, throwing an arm around her shoulders like they were old buddies. The huntress didn’t even flinch, just raised a brow, steady as still water.

“Aw, come on, Siuan, loosen up. We’re just curious, that’s all,” Alanna said, her tone dripping with feigned innocence as she leaned closer to Moiraine, clearly testing out her boundaries. “You are pretty, darlin’. Don’t let Siuan’s grumpy ways fool you. She’s hopeless with compliments, and about as charming as a rattlesnake… probably twice as much trouble, too.” 

“Alanna,” Siuan warned, her voice dropping an octave.

But the stupid grin only widened. “Did she ever tell you about the time she tried to rob a train and ended up stealing the coal car by mistake?”

The huntress raised a perfectly arched brow, her lips twitching at the corners. “I don’t think she did.”

“Alanna, don’t,” Siuan said again, her tone darkening by the second, but the woman was already diving into the story. 

“Oh, it’s a good one,” she continued, draping herself over Moiraine like a stage performer about to tell her best joke. “So there she was, cocky as she gets and oh so sure of herself. Didn’t check what car she was on, just threw everyone off, unhooked it, and started ridin’ away. Only thing she ended up with was about a ton of coal and the conductor chasin’ her down the tracks, screamin’ bloody murder.”

Moiraine’s lips quirked, intrigued. “Is that true?”

Siuan groaned and rolled her eyes. “Happened once,” she muttered. “And coal’s worth somethin’, ain’t it?”

“Coal’s valuable,” Thom piped up, raising his bottle in a wobbly toast. “Keeps ya warm!”

“Oh, shut it, Thom,” Siuan muttered.

Alanna grinned, emboldened. “And then there was the time she tried sneakin’ into that big fancy house,” she continued, clearly hitting her stride now. “All quiet-like, thinkin’ she’s real smooth. Only to trip over her own feet and knock over a vase louder than a church bell on Sunday.” 

Thom and Alanna howled with laughter, the sound so loud and reckless it turned a few heads from nearby revelers. Even Lan’s stony face cracked a fraction. Siuan let out a low groan, her frustration bubbling over. Being embarrassed in front of Moiraine… just perfect. She was going to make Alanna pay for this later.

“I hate all of you,” she muttered, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. “Y’all just gonna air my dirty laundry all night, or you got better things to do? Like, I dunno, drinkin’ yourselves into a stupor somewhere far, far away from me?”

“Oh, this is the better thing to do,” Alanna shot back with a grin. She leaned closer to Moiraine again. Her tone dropped into a conspiratorial whisper that was still loud enough for everyone to hear. “Did she tell you she once-”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Siuan finally barked, stepping forward with enough force to make Alanna pull back, if only slightly. “Arm off. Now.”

“Not before you tell us what the lovely lady owes you for taggin’ along,” Alanna said, undeterred. “C’mon, Moiraine, spill it. What’s the deal? Did she… charm you with her colorful vocabulary? Or is this some kind of charity work?”

“Alanna, I swear to God…” Siuan’s patience frayed like an old rope. She pressed her fingers to her temples like she could rub the forming headache right out of her skull.

“Oh, hush, Sanche,” she said with a dismissive wave, her attention zeroing in on the huntress once more. “You have no idea how much we’ve all been waitin’ to meet someone she’d actually bring along to a party. You gotta tell us, darlin’ - Siuan forced you into this, didn’t she? Blink twice if you’re here against your will.”

Moiraine’s lips twitched, a subtle movement that didn’t quite break into a smile but carried an air of quiet amusement all the same. “Forced? No.” She shook her head calmly. “She asked me to come, and I accepted.”

“She asked you, did she?” Alanna repeated, spinning dramatically toward Siuan with mock astonishment, he grin so wide it practically glowed. “So hell’s frozen twice tonight. See?” She jabbed Lan in the ribs with her elbow, beaming like she’d won a bet. “Told you she’s a softie under all that bark.”

“For the love of-” Siuan muttered, cutting herself off with a sigh that came from somewhere deep and defeated. Shoulders slumping, she tugged her hat lower over her eyes, as though the brim might somehow shield her from the relentless teasing.

“Lan,” she mumbled, dragging his name out like it was her last resort. “Do somethin’, will ya?”

The man’s eyes shifted her way, and there was something in his steady gaze that made her stomach twist. He didn’t say much, he rarely did, but Siuan could practically hear the gears turning in his head. Lan didn’t pry, not unless he thought he had a reason to, and Siuan had the sinking suspicion he was already putting the pieces of a puzzle together - a puzzle she hadn’t even realized she’d handed him.

“Alright,” he said at last, coming to her rescue. “We’ve taken up enough of their time.” He placed a firm hand on Alanna’s shoulder, steering her back toward Thom, who had somehow managed to successfully knock over a chair in the meantime. 

“Fine, fine,” Alanna said with a huff, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. Before she let herself be fully led away, she turned back to Moiraine, throwing her a playful wink. “But I’m getting the rest of this story someday, Moiraine. You’re welcome any time.“

“I’ll look forward to it,” the huntress replied smoothly. “You’re quite an entertaining group.”

“See, Siuan?” Alanna called over her shoulder as she let Lan guide her toward Thom, who was busy trying to right the chair he’d knocked over. “She likes us!”

“She’s just bein’ polite,” Siuan grumbled under her breath.

“No,” Moiraine corrected playfully. “I think I do like them.”

When they were finally out of sight, Siuan scrubbed a hand over the back of her neck, feeling the tension knotted there. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she mumbled, avoiding the other woman’s eyes. “They’re… well, they’re idiots, but mostly harmless.”  

Moiraine smoothed her shawl. “No apology needed. They’re quite… funny.”

Siuan snorted. “That’s one word.” However, she couldn’t keep a hint of a grin off her face. Seeing Moiraine handle them with such confidence stirred something warm inside her and sent her thoughts right back to their first encounter again - the stoic, unflinching huntress in the woods. 

“Your friends seem fond of you,” Moiraine continued.

“Fond, huh? That’s what you’re callin’ all that banter?”

Moiraine’s gaze lingered on her for a beat longer, something soft and knowing in her eyes. “You didn’t seem to mind them too much,” she said.

Siuan opened her mouth to argue, to deflect, but no good excuse came to mind. “They grow on you, I guess,” she muttered instead.

“I can see that,” the other woman replied, her smile widening just slightly, enough to make Siuan’s chest feel too tight and too warm all at once.

* 

After the encounter with the gang members, the decision to call it a night hadn’t come with much debate. The evening had stretched long, and though neither of them said it out loud, the weight of shared glances and lingering touches had worn them down to something quieter. 

Inside the inn, silence settled like dust on abandoned furniture. The door’s latch clicked shut behind them, muffling the distant hum of Valentine’s streets. Somewhere outside, the echoes of drunken laughter and clattering footsteps marked the late hour, but in here, it was just the two of them. 

The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight that peeked between the curtains, tracing silvery lines on worn wooden floorboards. It was quiet. Too quiet for Siuan’s liking because with silence came the thoughts. 

Her head buzzed, her body loose and light from the whiskey they’d sipped at the masquerade, but there was something sharper under all that warmth. A restless hum in her veins, too alive to be from the alcohol alone. She’d been too close to doing something foolish earlier; leaning in to Moiraine, almost kissing her. 

The memory still prickled behind her ribs. Siuan couldn’t shake the charge in the air between them, the pull the huntress had carried with her all night like it was stitched into the fabric of her very being.

Enchanting.

No. That wasn’t the word. 

Dangerous. 

Because Moiraine wasn’t supposed to be this charming, this stunning, this easy to talk to and impossible to look away from. Every smile she’d given Siuan tonight had felt like it came with strings attached, pulling her closer, tying her tighter, and leaving her with nowhere to run. 

And now here they were. Back in their room. Trapped between thin walls and thin excuses, with one bed and too many unsaid words crowding the space. One bed. Just one.

Earlier, it had seemed like nothing more than a mediocre inconvenience, an awkward detail to grumble about under her breath. But now, after the evening’s events, it loomed like a challenge she wasn’t sure she could face. The closeness the bed promised - no, demanded - felt like too much, more than she could endure without unraveling completely. For a long moment, she just stood there, rooted to the floor, unsure of what to do with herself.

The huntress, meanwhile, moved with the same unshakable grace she’d carried all night, her every motion deliberate and composed as if she were perfectly at ease. She shrugged her shawl from her shoulders, the fabric sliding free and pooling in her hands before she folded it with careful precision. The simple gesture had no business being so captivating, but Siuan couldn’t look away.

The woman’s hair was mussed from all the action, soft curls spilling loose and framing her face in a way that made Siuan’s throat dry. She looked more real like this, less like a lost princess who kept herself locked away in solitude and more like the carefree woman Siuan had danced with, touched, held. A woman who could hold her own against rowdy outlaws and still remain untouchably poised.

Damn. Siuan dragged her gaze away before it could linger too long, fixing her attention on her own hands as she shrugged off her jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. But even as she moved, her mind betrayed her, replaying the night in maddening clarity; the press of Moiraine’s hand in hers during the dance, the laughs she’d let out at Siuan’s jokes, the way her eyes had gleamed like firelight when she’d played along with Alanna’s teasing, the-

“You alright?” 

Moiraine’s voice was soft, her tone even and measured as usual. Yet, as she looked up, there was a glimmer in her eyes that told Siuan she wasn’t so collected as she seemed. Perhaps… she was just better at hiding the quake inside?

Siuan cleared her throat, jerking herself out of her thoughts. “Yeah. Just… thinkin’ how it’s already another new year. Time flies too fast, doesn’t it?”

The huntress’ lips curved, a subtle, private amusement touching her face. “It does,” she agreed. “But you don’t seem the type to brood over the past.”

Siuan coughed a laugh, though it lacked any real humor. If the woman only knew how much the past had been clawing at her lately, dragging her back when all she wanted was to keep moving forward.

“Try not to,” she said, sliding her belt free and tossing it over the chair, all the while keeping the huntress in her peripheral vision. “Ain’t nothin’ back there worth lingerin’ on.” 

Moiraine tilted her head slightly, studying her with that infuriatingly unreadable expression. The one that always made Siuan feel like she was being peeled open, layer by layer. Finally, she turned away, placing her shawl neatly on the dresser. 

“You’re wrong, you know.”

Siuan blinked. “’Bout what?” 

“About the past.” Moiraine glanced over her shoulder. “It’s always worth remembering, even if only to remind yourself how far you’ve come. What you endured. What you survived.” 

The words hit like a punch to the gut, leaving a dull ache in their wake. Siuan’s throat worked, but she only managed a grunt in response. Her fingers fiddled with her cuffs, clumsy suddenly. This kind of talk always unnerved her more than a firefight. Moiraine’s words carried a weight, a truth that she didn’t quite know how to answer.

After a moment, the huntress cleared her throat softly. “Could you…,” she began, her words trailing off as she gestured faintly over her shoulder with a hint of hesitation. “The ribbons.”

Siuan froze. “The ribbons?” 

The woman turned slightly, presenting her back. The dress clung to her in ways that made Siuan dizzy, the shimmering blue fabric catching what little light the room offered. Her hair had fallen over one shoulder, baring the line of her neck.  

Siuan swallowed, her boots glued to the floor for a heartbeat too long, before finally stepping closer and reaching out. Her hands weren’t used to such fine things. They were better suited for gripping reins, handling a revolver, or patching wounds. But she forced herself to work gently, tugging carefully at the thin bands until the fabric began to give. 

As the ribbons loosened, the dress shifted, revealing more of the smooth expanse of pale skin. Siuan’s hands stilled for a moment, her breath catching. She stared, her mind briefly fraying at the edges as she realized just how close she was, how much of Moiraine she was seeing.

She swallowed hard and willed herself to calm done, but her hands trembled slightly as she finished the task. “Done,” she muttered. 

“Thank you.” Moiraine turned back to her, and the dress slipped from her shoulders in one graceful motion, revealing the understated chemise beneath. The linen skimmed her form, modest but too enticing all the same. Siuan’s breath hitched as her gaze faltered, dipping for just a half-second before she forced it upward again. 

Her brain tripped over itself, stumbled, and fell flat. It took every ounce of effort she had to look at Moiraine’s face - and only her face - and it still felt like breaking in a wild horse to keep her eyes from wandering. Even then, the pounding in her chest was impossible to ignore.

She turned abruptly, dropping onto the chair to tug off her boots with more focus than the task required. It gave her something to do, something to anchor herself, but her mind refused to settle, racing in a thousand different directions, all of them starting and ending with Moiraine. 

They took turns preparing for bed, neither rushing nor speaking too much. A belt buckle catching the light, the soft rustle of fabric, the faint sigh of the floorboards under shifting weight; all minor sounds wound the tension tighter. They were both aware of the single bed. Siuan could practically feel the shape of it, how narrow it seemed now that they would share it.

“We should get some rest,” the huntress said at last. She placed her mask on the bedside table, her fingers lingering on it for a moment before slipping under the covers.

“Yeah,” Siuan managed. “Guess we should.” She climbed in and felt the bed dip beneath her weight, the shift pressing her even closer to Moiraine. The proximity hit her like a kick to the chest, stealing what little remained of her calm.

The room was dark now, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlamps outside the window, but still, it didn’t feel dark enough. Siuan could feel the warmth radiating from the body next to her. If she turned her head just a fraction, she knew she’d see the curve of Moiraine’s cheek, the line of her throat. Her pulse picked up at the thought. 

So, she stared at the ceiling instead. She tried to focus on anything but the huntress; the faint sounds of the city outside, the muffled laughter, the distant rustle of the wind, but it was no use. Her mind raced in endless loops with one thought and one thought only.

Moiraine was so close. 

Close enough that Siuan could sense the subtle rise and fall of her chest, close enough to feel the gentle warmth radiating through the thin covers. Closer still was that scent of lavender on her skin. It was intoxicating, maddening, and utterly impossible to ignore - it was driving Siuan mad.

She tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, images resurfaced; soft smiles and carefree laughter, bottomless blue eyes behind a mask, gentle touches, an embrace - all things she shouldn’t notice, and yet couldn’t help but crave. Siuan felt like standing too damn close to a campfire on a cold night; irresistibly warm, but dangerous if you leaned in too far. 

Just when she began to suspect Moiraine had fallen asleep, her name drifted softly through the silence, “Siuan?”

“Yeah?” She turned her head slightly.

“You still awake?” 

“Yeah,” she replied, quieter now. “Why? You need anythin’?”

There was a pause, a moment of silence that felt longer than it probably was, and then Moiraine shifted beside her, rolling onto her side to face her. Siuan could feel that gaze even before she met it; Moiraine’s eyes asking and dark, reflecting some private flicker of thought.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she said softly. “For bringing me tonight. For… introducing me to that part of your world. It was a great day.” 

Siuan wanted to joke, to say something easy and familiar, but her chest felt too full for that. “Wasn’t sure you’d think so,” she admitted, forcing a half-laugh. “Your composure’s a damn miracle, considerin’ the crowd.” 

“I’ve dealt with rough waters before,” Moiraine said, her tone teasingly mild. “I’m more resilient than you realize. Just like you’re more predictable than you realize.” 

That caught her off guard. She rolled onto her side too, their faces even closer now. “Not sure if I should be flattered or insulted,” Siuan murmured. She tried for humor, but it came out sounding more like wonder.

“Take it as a compliment.” Moiraine’s lips curved, that faint smile that never quite gave everything away.

Siuan’s heart thundered, and she felt her pulse even in her fingertips. Damn this woman. Damn her for being everything Siuan shouldn’t want and yet couldn’t stop wanting. Moiraine was like barbed wire and wildflowers wrapping around the same fence. 

“Hey, Moiraine?” The question slipped free before she could stop herself. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course.”

“You remember that thing you said back then, in French?” Siuan shifted. “I keep wonderin’ what it meant.”

She couldn’t really explain how this was important now or why she’d even asked it. Maybe because the night had stripped them down to truth. Maybe because she needed to understand the pull between them, name it somehow. 

Moiraine’s gaze faltered for an instant, just enough to show she remembered. Siuan felt the sting of regret, her chest tightening as she winced inwardly. Great. Clearly, she’d said something wrong, pushed too far, crossed some invisible line. She opened her mouth to backtrack, to laugh it off, but before the words could leave her, the huntress replied. 

“It means ‘you remind me that I have a heart’.” 

Siuan’s throat tightened. She’d faced down bullets without flinching, but this quiet confession nearly undid her. She realized only then she was probably not the only one tiptoeing at the edge of something that could change everything.

Time stretched and folded, standing still and moving too fast all at once. Moiraine’s gaze didn’t waver, didn’t falter, and Siuan couldn’t bring herself to turn away either. She even shifted forward, inch by careful inch, until there was no more room for politeness or hiding behind pretense.

“Call me a fool,” Moiraine whispered, her voice so soft Siuan almost missed it, “but I don’t want to start the new year without doing this.”

With that, she closed what little distance had remained between them, pressing her lips gently against Siuan’s. It wasn’t a grand gesture or a frantic collision, just a soft, steady press that held a hundred unspoken feelings. 

For a moment, Siuan’s world tilted on its axis. The shock gave way to a surge of warmth that started in her chest and spread outward, igniting every nerve like wildfire - first a flicker, then a flame, a fire, her whole world burning down and surrendering to heat.

Moiraine was kissing her. 

Moiraine was kissing her.

Moiraine was kissing her!

She moved slowly, instinct guiding her. She pressed back, letting the kiss deepen naturally, as if they had all the time in the world. It was overwhelming, disorienting, and one of the most incredible things she’d ever felt. Before she could think better of it, Siuan’s hand moved, finding Moiraine’s waist, careful not to grip too tight, though part of her wanted to hold on for dear life.

Moiraine’s lips parted and the kiss shifted, the tenderness dissolving into something more raw, more desperate. It was like a dam had broken between them, and all the unspoken words and feelings came pouring out in that kiss. 

A gentle, involuntary sound escaped Siuan’s throat, halfway between a laugh and a sigh, as she let her guard slip further. The tension that had stretched taut between them for weeks now melted into something warm and liquid that settled low in her belly. This was different from any encounter she’d known.

In this moment, all of Valentine’s noise, all the rowdy memories, all the old ghosts and regrets faded. Siuan’s hands roamed, tracing the curves of Moiraine’s body, her fingers brushing over soft fabric and warm skin. She pulled the huntress closer, her grip firm but reverent, the need in her touch undeniable. 

But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. 

Siuan’s heart raced, her mind screaming at her to slow down, to think, but she couldn’t. She needed this. Needed her. Needed Moiraine in a way that scared her, in a way that she hadn’t let herself feel for a long, long time. 

The scent of lavender surrounded them, clinging to the huntress’ skin, her lips, her very being. Siuan knew from this night on she’d never again smell that scent without remembering this exact moment, the excitement of it, the quiet possibility that this kiss could be the beginning of something worth risking everything for.

They broke apart only when breath became precious again. Their foreheads rested together as they gasped for air, the moment charged and fragile. Moiraine’s eyes shone, and Siuan swore the room looked brighter, as if some hidden lantern had sparked to life.

“Happy New Year, Siuan.” 

Chapter Text

A week had passed since that night. 

Since Siuan had kissed Moiraine - or rather, since Moiraine had kissed her. That was closer to the truth. A truth Siuan still hadn’t entirely wrapped her head around, though she’d spent every sleepless night trying. 

It was like the whole world had flipped upside-down, set her boots on the ceiling, and dared her to figure out which way was up. Well, she still hadn’t.

Not that the kiss itself was the puzzle. That was seared into her mind. She could practically feel Moiraine’s breath dancing against her lips, still taste the heat of the moment if she closed her eyes for too long. No, that part was clear as it could be. It was the why that left her restless. Why Moiraine had been the one to lean in first. Why she hadn’t regretted it once daybreak came.

They’d exchanged a few clumsy words the morning after, the kind of talk that felt like tying knots in a rope when your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. There had been no grand declarations in that exchange, no sweeping lines of poetry, but it had been enough - enough for Siuan to walk away knowing two things: 

Moiraine didn’t regret it.

And no, the whiskey wasn’t to blame. 

Siuan had spent her days since that night trying to reconcile that truth with the ache in her chest that just wouldn’t settle. It wasn’t the hollow feeling she’d carried her whole life, the one that came from wanting something, from knowing what it was, and watching it slip through her fingers. No, this one was different. It wasn’t hollow. It was full.

However, even so, terror and wonder twisted together in her gut, so tightly braided she couldn’t tell which was which anymore. But there was no use lying to herself; she kept thinking about her. About Moiraine.

Her laugh, her touch, her lips and more. Siuan wanted that. Craved it, this intimacy, plain and simple. And that raw want scared her as much as it thrilled her.

Yet the future seemed… uncertain. What came next? What were they now? What might they become?

Neither of them had seemed eager to pin a label on it, and Siuan sure as hell wasn’t about to be the one to force it. Labels, she figured, were for folks with the luxury of time and safety. She had neither. Life on the run had taught her the hard way that nothing lasted long. Not peace, not love, not even the comfort of a warm bed.

Still, there was something different about this. A tiny ember in the ashes that refused to burn out, no matter how much Siuan tried to tell herself she couldn’t afford to want it. There’d even been that one fleeting moment, the day after the masquerade. And that moment alone had made her doubt everything she thought she knew.

Moiraine had hesitated before saying goodbye. Just for a breath, but it had been there. She’d looked at Siuan with something shy and unsure in her eyes, the faintest blush brushing across her cheeks as she asked if Siuan planned to stick around.

There hadn’t been any teasing in the question, no expectations. It was a careful thing, offered like a wild bird perched on the edge of Moiraine’s palm. The kind of question that felt like it could vanish with the wrong answer.

Siuan had told her yes.

She hadn’t fumbled. Hadn’t hesitated. Just a plain, steady, yes.

And Moiraine had smiled. A small, quiet thing, but it had settled in Siuan’s chest like an anchor in restless waters. Then, she’d leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to Siuan’s cheek.

It hadn’t been the kind of kiss to set the world on fire, but it hadn’t needed to be. It had been soft, certain, and meant everything it ought to mean. No strings attached or lofty promises. Just a silent little agreement that, for now, they weren’t running off in different directions.

And so, here Siuan was, climbing the steps to the huntress’ cabin once more, with her hand wrapped tight around the little gift she’d hidden in her satchel.

Bringing presents wasn’t exactly part of her usual routine. It felt awkward. Foolish, even. Especially since Moiraine clearly wasn’t the kind of woman who needed things. She had the air of someone content with what she possessed, self-contained and solid.

But then again, who doesn’t like a little something? Something that says, I’ve been thinking about you. And Siuan figured she’d done quite all right with this particular something. 

The parcel in her satchel wasn’t stolen or borrowed off some poor fool who’d looked the other way too long. She’d paid honest coin for it, tracking it down from a traveling peddler who’d sworn up and down it was some rare find from far-off places.

Siuan couldn’t care less where it’d come from. That wasn’t the part that mattered. The way she figured it, the value wasn’t in the origin but in what it might mean to Moiraine.

It was a book. Worn and cloth-bound, its title written in elegant, looping letters. French novel, or so the man had claimed. Siuan couldn’t make sense of a single word of it, not if her life depended on it, but Moiraine would. And something told her the huntress didn’t get much of a chance to lose herself in her native tongue out here in the wilderness.

Her heart did a quick two-step as she reached the cabin door, her knuckles rapping twice on the wood. She shifted on her boots, and waited.

When the door opened, Moiraine looked every bit herself; her posture was straight as ever. Her sleeves were rolled neatly to her elbows, exposing pale wrists and forearms, slim and strong in equal measure. And her hair, today, hung looser, less practiced, as if she’d tied it back half-heartedly while thinking of something else. 

“You’re early,” Moiraine said, her voice carrying just the faintest teasing lilt, like she already knew Siuan couldn’t be bothered to stick to the time they’d agreed on.

Siuan stomped the slush from her boots before stepping inside. “Ain’t early. I’m punctual,” she quipped, though the faint flush creeping up her neck told another story. Truth was, she’d practically broken her own speed record to get here.

She let the warmth of the cabin settle over her as she shrugged off her coat and tossed it onto the back of a chair without much care. Her fingers brushed the satchel slung across her shoulder, a brief hesitation flickering in her movements.

“Brought somethin’ for you,” she said eventually, fishing around in her satchel.

“Oh?” 

Siuan cleared her throat and pulled the parcel free, handing it over with little ceremony. “Not sure if it’s your taste,” she muttered, “but it’s in French. Figured… y’know, since you don’t get to speak it much, you might like it.”

The other woman’s eyebrows lifted, her curiosity clear as she untied the cloth and peeled it back to reveal the book. The spine was faded, its edges scuffed from many hands before hers, but the title seemed to light something in Moiraine’s expression. 

“It’s lovely,” she murmured, trailing her fingertips across the faded lettering with gentle reverence like greeting an old friend. “Where did you find this?”

“Travelin’ peddler,” Siuan said with a shrug, hands sliding into her pockets as she rocked on her heels. “Don’t speak a lick of French, so I’ve got no clue what it’s about.”

The huntress didn’t answer right away. Instead, she opened the book with the kind of care reserved for fragile things. She thumbed through the pages slowly, the muted rustle of paper the only sound for a moment. But then, she paused near the middle, a soft hum escaping her lips, eyes dancing over some line on the page.

Siuan tilted her head. “What?”

“Sous les draps de soie, sa main glissait lentement, audacieuse et chaude, effleurant la peau sensible de sa maîtresse jusqu’à provoquer un soupir interdit.” 

The words rolled off Moiraine’s tongue like warm honey, each syllable a melody that Siuan didn’t need to understand to feel. The woman’s expression was maddeningly serene, though there was a spark of mischief in her eyes now.

“And that means…?”

Moiraine took a breath, as if deciding how to phrase it. “Roughly,” she began, “it describes… a lover’s hand. Beneath silken sheets. Drifting down to where all propriety is… forgotten.”

Siuan’s brain froze. For a solid three seconds, the words didn’t quite connect. Then, all at once, heat rushed to her face, climbing to her ears and down her neck so fast it practically scorched her.

“I got you… erotica?” she croaked, her voice hitching embarrassingly high at the end. 

“It would seem so,” the huntress replied lightly, one slender finger tapping the open page. “A rather… personal choice of literature, don’t you think?” 

“Oh, you gotta be kiddin’ me…” Siuan groaned, dragging a hand down her face as if that might hide her mortification. “I swear on all that’s holy, I didn’t realize it was that kinda book,” she mumbled through her fingers. “Figured it’d be about… royalty or politics or somethin’. Not…” She waved vaguely at the book, as if the motion could erase the last few minutes. “…that.” 

Moiraine’s lips curved into something far too amused. She closed the book slowly, pressing it to her chest like a cherished secret, the motion oddly tender.

“Who says royalty can’t coexist with a bit of intimacy?” she replied smoothly. “It’s a thoughtful gift, don’t worry. Thank you.”

Siuan exhaled shakily. At least the woman wasn’t offended. If anything, she seemed… delighted. Still, the image conjured by that French passage lingered. Her blood ran hotter than she cared to admit, and damn it all, she needed to move. Needed to latch onto something solid before she embarrassed herself any further. 

She turned toward the window, boots scuffing softly against the floor. The cold glass was a welcome excuse to look away, to let her breathing settle into something closer to normal. 

“Cold out there,” she muttered. A useless observation if there ever was one, but it gave her something to say that wasn’t about bodily explorations in French. 

The huntress stepped closer, so that Siuan could feel the warmth of her presence before she ever spoke. “Mm,” she agreed, gaze flicking from the frost-rimmed window to land on Siuan’s reflection in the glass. “I keep waiting for the sun to break through. But it’s a stubborn winter.”

Siuan rubbed at the condensation fogging the window, clearing a patch just big enough to see the bare trees outside. The branches still bowed under the stubborn weight of ice, glinting dully in the gray light of the day. She sighed. “Might be waitin’ a while,” she said. “You keepin’ warm enough in this place? Roof ain’t leakin’? Windows holdin’ up?”

“Everything’s in order.” The gentle curve at the corner of Moiraine’s lips told Siuan she was more concerned with the woman next to her than any cold draft creeping under the door. “No need to worry.”

Siuan cleared her throat and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her fingers brushing absently at the brim of her hat. She wasn’t good at standing still, not when the air between them was this close. Not when she was on borrowed time.

“Should warn you,” she said after a pause, her voice rougher than she intended. “I can’t stay long today. Just wanted to bring you that… book.” She nodded toward the object, now resting carefully on the small table near Moiraine’s chair. “Boss wants me back by nightfall. Says there’s big news comin’.”

Moiraine’s eyebrows pinched in a delicate line of concern. “Big news?”

“Dunno,” Siuan said, shrugging as she rubbed the pad of her thumb over a fraying patch on her sleeve. “Probably nothin’. That man knows how to dramatize a stubbed toe.”

The huntress inclined her head, her lips pursed just enough to hint she was already weighing the possibilities. “But you can stay for a little while longer?” she asked eventually. “Right?” 

Siuan’s throat worked around a lump she didn’t remember swallowing. “Reckon I can,” she murmured. “For a little while.”

The silence that then fell between them wasn’t awkward - it was intentional. They were figuring it out, piece by careful piece. Learning how to share space without demanding too much, how to drift into each other’s orbits without pulling too close. It wasn’t about big speeches or drawing lines in imaginary sand. No, it was about letting the moment settle, letting it breathe.

But even with all that patience, the memory of New Year’s Eve lingered in the back of Siuan’s mind. Her heart beat a little faster, remembering Moiraine’s lips warm against hers, the hush of their breathing in the dark. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, and searched for words that wouldn’t overshoot the mark but wouldn’t hold too much back, either. 

Her voice, when it came, was quiet and a little raw. “You know… I’ve been thinkin’ about that night.” She tried to meet Moiraine’s eyes but didn’t quite make it. “Kinda hard not to.”

Moiraine’s head tilted. There was a question in the way she looked at Siuan, but she didn’t rush her, didn’t push for more. She just waited, calm and patient, giving her room to say as much, or as little, as she wanted.

“I know we haven’t spelled out what we’re doin’,” Siuan continued. “But I like comin’ here. I like talkin’ to you. Even when we dance around… certain topics.” 

The other woman’s lips curved in a subtle, understanding smile. “Sometimes it’s enough to just know that… we understand each other quite well,” she said quietly, as if that was supposed to answer everything. Maybe it did.  

Siuan slid a half step closer, the scuffed toe of her boot nudging Moiraine’s. “Yeah,” she whispered, heart rattling inside her chest. “That’s enough.” 

Between them, the distance dwindled breath by breath. Eventually, Moiraine’s hand lifted, her fingers brushing Siuan’s collar, smoothing a crease that probably wasn’t even there to begin with. But the gesture lingered, no longer about fussing with clothes and instead about staying close. 

Siuan tilted her head slightly, letting her cheek nearly graze Moiraine’s knuckles. A hush settled around them, deeper than silence.

If anyone burst in at that moment, they’d see two people standing too close for strangers, too careful for lovers. But Siuan knew every inch of space here was an act of trust, every touch exploring brand-new territory in slow, brave steps. 

Slowly, she raised her own hand, tracing the graceful line of Moiraine’s jaw, marveling at the impossibility of it. A few days ago, she wouldn’t have dared. But now, the woman who once held herself in stoic composure leaned into that touch, letting out the slightest exhale against Siuan’s palm.

“I’d like to do that again,” Moiraine whispered. “What we did at the inn.” Siuan caught the flicker of Moiraine’s gaze sliding down to her lips, then lifting again to her eyes.

Her breath hitched, her chest tightening at the way the huntress said it - no pretense, no coyness, just raw honesty. “Yeah,” she replied, words low. “Me too.”

She leaned in slowly, her nose skimming the other woman’s cheek as a soft surge of memory rose inside her; electric, comforting, and laced with the faintest hint of lavender. She savored that closeness for half a breath before letting her lips meet Moiraine’s in a kiss. 

This one was different.

Slower, infinitely softer. The sort of kiss meant for daylight and the hush of winter. No hurry, no panic, just the delicate warmth of two people daring to let affection show. 

Moiraine’s hands slid up to Siuan’s hair, her fingers threading through her curls as if anchoring them both to this moment. At some point, Siuan’s hat toppled to the floor with a forgotten thump, but neither of them spared it a look. 

After a while, they drew apart for just a moment, breath mingling in the narrow space that remained. An unspoken question hovered there - Stay right here, right now? Or let things get further?

It only took one quick glance at the bed with the dreamcatcher drifting lazily above to know the silent question might not stay rhetorical for long. The bed was just a pace away, waiting. 

Moiraine studied Siuan’s face, eyes half-lidded. “Siuan,” she murmured. “I wonder if you want to… do these kinds of things. Like in that book.“ She paused, watching her. “With me?”

Oh, hell. That wasn’t fair at all.

A rush of heat flared under Siuan’s skin, her memory summoning up French words she couldn’t pronounce. That image of two lovers. Of silken sheets. Of a hand slipping somewhere it shouldn’t. 

She swallowed, tried not to blush, and failed miserably. The heat rose anyway, and she figured the huntress would notice. Damn it. She could feel Moiraine watching her, seeing it all, but for once, Siuan didn’t mind being seen. Maybe that was okay. Maybe that was the point. Maybe that was part of the trust they were building. 

Siuan let out a shaky breath and managed to find her voice, though it wasn’t as steady as she’d have liked. “I’d like that… a lot.”

At those words, the simmering tension between them burst wide open. The next kiss came faster, deeper. Whatever restraint they’d been holding onto unraveled in an instant, leaving nothing but shared heat and need for each other. 

They stumbled back together, the huntress’ lips never leaving Siuan’s as they moved. When the back of Moiraine’s legs met the edge of the mattress, Siuan’s arms slid around her waist, steadying her as they both fell onto the mattress. 

Moiraine sank against the blankets, hair spilling across the pillow like dark silk. She was breathless already, cheeks aglow, her lips slightly swollen and pink from the intensity of their kisses. She looked undone, impossibly lovely, and it made Siuan’s breath catch in her chest. 

For a moment she just hovered above the woman, wide-eyed and breathless herself, letting her gaze trace the lines of Moiraine’s face, drinking her in like she was the last sunrise she’d ever see.

“You’re so beautiful,” Siuan rasped, voice cracked with awe.

Moiraine’s lips curved, eyes sparkling with a playful glint. One delicate hand rose to cradle Siuan’s cheek. “And you,” she said, brow arched in easy mischief, “are overdressed.”

A shaky laugh tumbled from Siuan, the tension cracking just enough to make her grin. She pushed herself up, fumbling to shrug out of her suspenders and yank her shirt free. Her fingers tangled at the buttons - too urgent, too clumsy - until Moiraine’s palms came up to settle gently atop them, forcing them still.

“Let me,” she whispered, and it wasn’t a question. 

Siuan dropped her arms, heart hammering like thunder in her chest. One by one, each button slipped free beneath the huntress’ patient fingertips. She swallowed, acutely aware that the other woman’s gaze lingered on every fresh glimpse of skin. 

Once she was stripped down to her bra, Moiraine drew her in, lips searching out the tender curve of her neck. The world turned hazy in a tangle of heated breaths and needy kisses, a storm of desire Siuan hadn’t planned on unleashing - not today, not this soon, and not just like this. But the pull between them, the sexual tension, all of it was undeniable. 

When Siuan cupped Moiraine’s breast, a soft moan escaped the woman’s lips, and it stoked the fire unraveling in Siuan’s belly. At last, her fingers slipped to the ties of Moiraine’s dress, brushing gently at the knot. But just as she teased the lacing free, the huntress’ hands tightened slightly on her back. A tiny moment of hesitation, barely there, but enough to stop Siuan in her tracks. 

She froze, desire colliding with sudden worry that maybe they were moving forward too fast, too soon. “You alright?” she breathed.

Moiraine visibly swallowed, lifting herself onto her elbows. Her cheeks still glowed pink, but something flickered in her blue eyes - uncertainty, or maybe vulnerability, peeking through her usually unshakeable composure. “I just… was wondering,” she mumbled,  gaze dropping for an instant, “how many women you’ve kissed like this.”

Siuan blinked, the words punching through her daze. “That’s a helluva question to ask right now.” 

“I’m sorry,” the huntress said quickly, shaking her head, apologizing, of all things. “It was a stupid thing to say.” Her shoulders sagged, exposing a flicker of insecurity. “It’s just- I want to be… someone special to you.”

The remark stung, not from insult but from the honest ache behind it. Sure, Moiraine didn’t know all the places Siuan had been. But she also didn’t know about the heartbreak Siuan carted around like old baggage. She didn’t realize that Siuan’s life wasn’t some reckless string of conquests or quick flings. If Moiraine was worried she was just another notch on a gunslinger’s belt, well, she deserved to hear the truth.

Siuan sucked in a slow breath, letting the sting ebb. “You are someone special, Moiraine,” she said, gentler this time. “There was only one other, a long time ago. It… didn’t end well.” She swallowed, remembering old ghosts. 

She dropped her gaze to the disheveled sheets, before summoning the courage to look the huntress in the eye again. “Didn’t figure I had a reason to let anyone else in. Not ’til you.”

The heat of the moment now cooled more and more, but not in a bad way, more like the steam rising off a still pond on a quiet morning, exposing deeper waters below.

For a moment, Moiraine just looked at her, her expression softening as if she could see all the way through the cracks Siuan was baring. All the playfulness was gone from her face as she drew herself upright, gaze fixed squarely on Siuan. She was serious now, all quiet understanding. 

“What happened?” she asked, voice low but firm enough to invite honesty.

And in that tight, enclosed corner, with the bed as their only witness and the scent of lavender clinging to the linens, Siuan realized that for once, she wanted to be honest. She wanted Moiraine to know her story. 

Maybe it was the way the woman’s eyes held no judgment, no impatience. Maybe it was the gentleness of her touch still lingering at Siuan’s mind. Whatever it was, she found herself coughing up a name she’d locked away.

“I… I was with someone. Her name was Marisa.” 

The words felt raw on her tongue, and for a moment, she wanted to swallow the rest, bury the story as she always had. But she forced herself to meet Moiraine’s blue eyes, steadying herself on the quiet acceptance she found there. 

“We were supposed to get out, you know,” Siuan muttered. “Start fresh. I only stuck with the gang to tie up loose ends, make sure no one came after us. Figured I’d keep trouble off our doorstep.” She tried a ghost of a smile, but the memory quickly snuffed it. “Marisa had a little place, said we could fix it up, make ourselves a life there.” 

The huntress said nothing, didn’t even shift on the bed. That fierce attention pressed Siuan forward, like a gentle nudge telling her it was safe to spill the rest. So she pressed on, letting the woman hear the story no one else ever had. 

“But she got caught in the middle of my bullshit,” Siuan continued. “I had these debts to some bad guys back in Lagras… ugly business. They came sniffin’ around for me, found her instead. I was off, doin’ one last run for the gang. Coulda sworn that was enough to leave all that rot behind.” 

She let out a humorless laugh. “Well, ‘em bastards turned up at that hut and only found five dollars. We didn’t have much more. So they shot her. Just like that. Just for fun.” 

Moiraine’s fingers curled around Siuan’s hand, her thumb gliding across her knuckles in a silent show of sympathy. No pity, no forced consolation, just heartbreak that mirrored Siuan’s own. 

“I got back the next morning,” she forced out, each word cutting a fresh wound. “But I walked into… well, the place was torn apart. She… was on the floor.” Her voice faltered, and she had to drag in a breath, bracing her shoulders against a grief that still felt raw as a knife’s edge. “I buried her right beside that shack we were plannin’ to call home. Took me a long time to figure out how to keep breathin’ after that.” 

Memory flayed her chest wide open, made it nearly impossible to think straight. Siuan blinked hard, fighting down the sting behind her eyes. She still felt Marisa’s last smile tucked somewhere in her head, the echo of her telling Siuan not to be gone for too long. 

She inhaled a shaky breath and let it out slow. “Guess that’s the short of it. After that, I didn’t really see a future for myself. Just started livin’ day by day, ridin’ job to job. Half the time, I reckoned I’d die young with the gang or on some bounty run. Didn’t let a soul get close. Never wanted to feel that kind of loss again.” 

Moiraine’s hand tightened around hers in a gentle squeeze. Grief pooled in her eyes, but it never tipped into pity. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, voice catching just enough to show she meant it. 

A silence stretched out between them. Siuan’s heart pounded painfully, torn between the memory of Marisa and the warmth of Moiraine right here and now. The huntress’ palm settled lightly along Siuan’s thigh, as if telling her she didn’t have to go on if it cut too deep. 

“Y’know,” Siuan murmured, swallowing past the tightness in her throat, “it feels… right, sharin’ this with you. Most folks, even the gang, they only ever knew half the story, believe she was a cousin of mine.” She gave a tiny, self-deprecating huff. “We don’t talk about nothin’ personal. Guess it’s easier that way. But I… I wanted you to know. Might help explain why I’ve been such a coward about all this feelings stuff.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Moiraine said softly. “For trusting me enough to let me in. I- I wish you hadn’t had to bear that alone.”

Siuan felt the dampness at the corner of her eyes. “Told myself never again. Keep folks at a distance, that’s safer, for all of us. But then you had to come along… well, guess you you flipped the script on me.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then, slow and sure, Siuan slid her hand back up along Moiraine’s waist, fingertips grazing the ties of her dress but not attempting to undo them. She leaned in, pressed a tentative, reverent kiss to the corner of her mouth, grateful for the woman’s presence. 

Moiraine exhaled a quivering breath, lids fluttering. 

Siuan responded with a gentle brush of lips, a small vow between them that this wasn’t a one-off moment. Then she slipped an arm around the other woman’s shoulders, guiding her to settle side by side on the bed. The warmth of Moiraine’s body felt safe, and for the first time, Siuan let herself exhale some of the tension her old ghosts brought along. 

They lingered there, hands clasped tightly between them. Only as the waning sunlight turned the window’s glow a deeper orange, Moiraine cleared her throat. “I don’t want to break this peace,” she said softly, “but your boss - he’ll expect you soon. It’s getting late.”

Siuan grimaced, reluctant but understanding. The huntress was right - Duty called. 

She adjusted the collar Moiraine had teased earlier, as if putting herself back in order. “Yeah,” she said, voice flattening a bit. “Reckon there’ll be other times, though, right?” 

“Yes,” she said simply. “There will be.” 

And for the first time in a long while, Siuan believed it.

Chapter Text

The fire crackled and hissed in the center of camp, smoke trailing up to meet the bruised evening sky. The gang was gathered close, faces cast in the shifting glow, some hunched over bowls of soup, others locked in grumbling standoffs over half-finished hands of cards. 

At a glance, it could have passed for an ordinary enough night… if you didn’t know how to read the air - something Siuan couldn’t help but do. There was an edge to it, an unusual buzz in the air, like the charge before a lightning strike. It clawed at her, but she didn’t flinch, didn’t move from the overturned crate she had claimed at the edge of the circle. 

Gareth stood at the head of the group. He wore that damn grin of his, the one that got under her skin every time. It was that particular kind of smug, the kind he wore when he thought he had the world dancing on a string. And truly, tonight he had them all - hook, line, and sinker. Even the hard-nosed gang members were watching him now, waiting to see what all his posturing was about.

Siuan kept her hat pulled low, half her face hidden in the shadow of its brim. Her knife dragged over a chunk of wood absentmindedly, shredding splinters that scattered around her boots. The blade scraped dull along the grain, her fingers aching from the cold and roughness, but the work wasn’t about carving anything worthwhile. It was a distraction, a way to keep her hands busy and her mind from straying too far. 

“Evenin’ folks,” the boss finally began, letting the words hang long enough to feel important. Sure as hell, he liked the attention, always had. “I’ve got news that’s gonna change our fortunes. For good.” 

Then, a deliberate pause followed but Siuan didn’t look up. She dragged the blade over the wood again, too rough this time. 

“Well, out with it,” growled Ryma, arms folded tight across her chest. The medic rarely had time for nonsense and rarely threw in her two cents, but when she did, it was straight to the point. 

Gareth chuckled, dragging it out even longer than necessary. He took his sweet time to reach inside his coat, pulling out a piece of paper as if it were some kind of sacred document. The crowd leaned in, and even Siuan’s knife now stilled.

He waved the folded paper in the air. “We’ve all heard the story, haven’t we? The lost princess of Europe. Poor lil’ girl goes missin’, never found.“ His voice was low now, like he was spinning a ghost story. “That tale’s been hauntin’ campfires for years. But let me tell ya, friends…” He paused, letting the moment settle. “It ain’t just a tale.” 

“What in the goddamn…?!”

Siuan’s gut clenched, a heavy, sinking feeling pulling her down like stones tied to her boots. The knife nearly slipped from her grip, but she tightened her hold, the handle biting into her palm until her knuckles ached. She swallowed, forcing her face into a lazy, disinterested mask, even as a sudden panic flared hot in her chest.

Her eyes flicked toward the gang, taking in the flickers of emotions in their expressions. A low murmur rippled through the group, half excitement, half doubt. Some faces practically lit up, eyes gleaming with curiosity, while others scoffed skeptically, muttering under their breaths or peering suspiciously at Gareth.

Siuan forced herself to join the latter crowd. She huffed out a low, dismissive snort, loud enough to blend in with the other skeptics. Just another scoff, another shrug. 

“Play it cool,” she reminded herself fiercely.

But her gut refused to settle, coiling tighter with every breath. She slouched against the overturned crate, rolling her shoulders as if she had no more worries than anyone else. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she didn’t let it show. Couldn’t.

The boss leaned in, casually throwing one boot up on a rickety bench and bracing his elbows against his knee. He let the silence stretch, drawing out the suspense like he knew everyone was dangling from his every word. “I’m tellin’ ya,” he drawled, “we got ourselves a lead on somethin’ big.” He paused for emphasis, then added, “Real big.”

“That’s a damn fairy tale,” Siuan snapped before her brain could stop her mouth. The words tumbled out sharp and fast, a reflex she couldn’t quite rein in. But the thought of sitting silent, of letting this unfold without interruption, made her skin crawl. If it was heading where she feared, she had to throw a wrench in it. 

She then pressed her knife back to the wood, hacking away more roughly than before, her strokes messy and uneven. “If the royal family hasn’t found her by now, she’s dead. Or a ghost.”

The man didn’t so much as blink. In fact, his grin just stretched wider, spreading slow and slick like oil on water. “Oh yeah?” he said, half-laugh. “Well, word is, that ghost of yours showed up in Saint Denis this winter.”

Siuan’s pulse lurched. Her knife sank deeper into the wood than she meant, catching on a knot, and she barely yanked her hand back in time to avoid nicking her hand. She covered it up with a lazy chuckle, feigning a casualness that sure as hell didn’t match the alarm hammering in her chest.

“Saint Denis?” she huffed. Her tone was almost mocking, like it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “C’mon, boss. Place is crawlin’ with beggars and liars. Sounds like someone’s been sellin’ fish tales again.”

But Gareth wasn’t done. His grin stayed sharp and with slow, deliberate care, he finally unfolded the paper in his hands. “Fish tales, yeah?” he said, lifting the sheet for all to see. “Take a look at this, then.” 

Siuan’s blood turned to ice. 

It was a wanted poster - Clean. Crisp edges. Fresh ink. A reward scrawled across the bottom in numbers too big to ignore: $5,000.

Everything else screamed official; royal seal, ornate lettering, and a painstakingly detailed description of the certain someone called Isabeau. And at the center sat a sketch, a drawn likeness of the woman - not the girl, but the grown woman. 

The portrait wasn’t perfect. Never was, with these posters. But it didn’t need to be perfect to be too damn close for comfort; high cheekbones, a delicate jawline, and striking features framed by dark waves of hair. Siuan’s gaze caught on those pencil lines a moment too long, until the truth stared back to her - too familiar, too real. 

“Moiraine.”

“See this?” Gareth boomed, cutting through the murmurs, his excitement bubbling over. “The royal family upped the price. Five grand, folks! That ain’t chump change! Means they’ve got proof she’s alive - clues, sightings, the works.” He jabbed a finger at the poster, like that bounty was his personal triumph. “Even slapped on a fancy new sketch of our lil’ princess.”

The gang stirred, voices buzzing. Excitement lit up their faces, some greedy, others calculating, but all hungry for a piece of that reward. Five thousand dollars had more weight than any of their usual jobs - way, way more. It was enough to make even the most cautious among them start thinking reckless. 

Siuan’s breath came shallow, her chest tight, but she knew she couldn’t show it. She had to speak. Say something. Anything. Just not too much. Not enough to betray herself - or Moiraine.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat, forced her gaze up to meet Gareth’s cocky grin. She plastered a smirk on her own face, one that felt like her jaw might crack under the effort.

“Could be just another trick to lure out impostors,” she shrugged, her tone deliberately bored. “Sounds like rich fools throwin’ good money after bad. Ain’t no way she’d survive this long without being found.”

Her words cut straight through the growing chatter, earning a few nods and more than one doubtful look aimed at Gareth. As his right hand, Siuan knew her voice carried weight here, and she intended to use it.

Gareth’s grin faltered, not much, but enough to show he didn’t appreciate the interruption. Siuan didn’t care. She kept her stare firmly on him, refusing to let them stray back to the cursed poster. One more glance and it’d probably shatter her mask. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Sanche,” the man shot back, pointing a finger at her like he was calling her bluff. “Rich folks don’t pour cash into dead causes. The fella I squeezed for details said she’s been spotted more than once. That’s why they’ve bumped the reward so high.”

“The fella?” 

“Aye,” Gareth chuckled, clearly self-satisfied. “Played poker the other night with some poor bastard from Saint Denis. Guy was losin’ bad, couldn’t pay up. When I pressed him for what he owed, he begged for more time, claimed her had a tip that’d lead straight to five grand.” He shook the poster in the air like it was a treasure map. “This. He told me it’s legit. Got the damn thing right off the royal payroll.” 

The camp erupted into whispers once more. Siuan didn’t need to wonder what they were thinking. She could see it in the way their gazes darted to one another, the way they exchanged glances like they’d already won. That much money. It was enough to buy land, or hell, even buy new lives and erase the sins of their old ones.  

Her stomach twisted so hard she thought she might retch right there in front of them. The scar on her palm suddenly flared to life, sharp and searing, as if the blade had cut fresh into her skin once more. 

Every single nerve in her body screamed at her to move. Stand up, walk away. No - run. Grab her horse, ride like hellfire to Moiraine’s cabin, and pull her from whatever warmth and safety she thought she’d found up there. Ride until the wind stripped the world behind them and there wasn’t a soul alive who could remember the name Isabeau or - let alone - put a price on her head.

But she couldn’t. Not yet. 

She forced the rising panic back down and scoffed sharply, forcing a thick layer of sarcasm into her tone. “If you say so, Gareth,” she drawled, “What’s the grand plan, then?”

The man straightened, the smugness in his grin hardening into command. Squaring his shoulders, he let his voice boom with an authority that rippled through the gathered faces. “We split up, form search teams,” he declared, turning in a slow circle to sweep them all with his gaze. “Roanoke Ridge to the Grizzlies - every inch combed clean. That five thousand’s ours for the takin’.”

Nods and cheers rose around him, a feverish excitement catching like sparks in dry grass. Siuan forced herself to play along, tossing in a curt nod, though her fingers dug so hard into her thigh she’d probably bruise by morning. She wanted to scream, to shout, to put a stop to all this. But she knew better. Push too hard, too soon, and their eyes would turn on her. Suspicion was a risk she couldn’t take. 

“I’ll head out first light,” she cut in, letting one shoulder shrug lazily. “I’m good at scouting, and I can cover more ground alone. If I find anythin’, I’ll send word quick. No point draggin’ the whole gang up there if it turns out to be nothin’.”

Gareth studied her for a moment, perhaps trying to gauge how genuine her offer really was. Siuan let just enough eagerness spark in her eyes, the kind that said she wanted that money as bad as anyone else. All a cover, of course. She’d steer Gareth straight to the devil if it meant keeping Moiraine safe.

After a beat, he nodded. “Good. A lone scout might pick up subtle tracks better than a noisy posse. Just be sure you’re not wastin’ your time… I want results.” 

Siuan lifted her chin, letting her smirk deepen just enough to sell it. “Don’t worry, boss. If she’s out there, I’ll catch wind of it. She’ll be locked up nice and neat at the sheriff’s until we’ve got our money.”  

The words burned like ash in her throat. Bitter, dry, and wrong. But they were the words Gareth needed to hear, the lie she needed him to believe.

Satisfied, he slapped the poster onto the table. “Alright,” he barked, his voice booming across the clearing. “Drink up, folks! Here’s to fortune and every damn one of us rollin’ in it soon!”

A roar went up. Tin cups clattered, bottles of whiskey passed from hand to greedy hand. It was that wild kind of night where the dream of money got them drunk before the booze ever could.

Siuan stayed to the edges, letting herself fade into the shadows beyond the fire’s reach. Every bottle that found its way to her hand was met with a meaningless sip before she passed it along. The burn of whiskey in her throat didn’t even register tonight, didn’t even touch the storm roiling in her gut.

Across the camp, Gareth was still at it, loud and red-faced, laughing like he already had the reward in his pocket. And then there was that poster, that cursed poster. He waved it around every chance he got, the fresh ink catching the firelight every time he moved. Even from where she sat, Siuan could see it. The sketch. That haunting image staring right back at her. 

“Damn it, Moiraine. What’re we gonna do?”

Siuan knew if she didn’t move fast, didn’t think faster, the gang would find the princess, drag her back to town. No questions asked, no mercy given. They wouldn’t care about Moiraine’s story, who she was beyond the reward or what she’d suffered. All they’d see was their prize - five thousand dollars wrapped around royal flesh. 

Siuan’s stomach twisted at the thought of Moiraine in chains, dragged back to the very people who had hurt her. The idea of losing Moiraine, of watching her get hauled off to a life she’d fought so hard to escape… it all made Siuan’s chest tighten with a fear she hadn’t felt in years. 

Her fingers itched for action, her mind running in circles as she fought to come up with a solution - anything. She’d sworn a blood oath to protect Moiraine, and by god, she’d hold that promise - and if she had to bury her tracks in blood and snow, then so be it.

She stood abruptly, her knees popping from sitting too long. She ignored the sidelong glances from a few of the gang members, masking her worries with a smirk. “I’m off,” she muttered, not bothering to wait for a reply. “Long day tomorrow.” 

Dawn couldn’t come soon enough. Tomorrow, she’d ride out and make sure the gang’s search turned up nothing but frost and dead ends.

*

The ride back up the mountains felt twice as long as usual, each hoofbeat echoing Siuan’s restless thoughts. She pressed her horse harder than she ever had - didn’t matter if it kicked up stones or dust or snow. All that mattered was outrunning the lead the gang thought they had, outrunning the fear that had been gnawing at her ever since she saw Moiraine’s face staring back from that wanted poster. 

By the time Siuan reached the secluded cabin, her heart thundered like it was trying to match her horse’s last gallop. Her legs felt shaky as she dismounted, every muscle wound tight with worry. 

She stomped up the creaking steps and hammered the door with enough force to shake the frame. “Moiraine? It’s me. Open up!”  

For a brief, agonizing moment, the only sound was her ragged breathing. Then came the soft shuffle of movement from inside, and Siuan’s pulse quickened even further, her nerves fraying. 

At last, the door eased open, revealing Moiraine, half-asleep, her hair a little mussed from wherever she’d been dozing. She blinked in confusion at Siuan. “What on earth…? Siuan, why are you here so early?” 

Before she could finish, Siuan shoved past her into the warmth of the cabin, bringing in a swirl of icy wind and a storm of her own. She turned sharply, yanking off her coat with jerking, hurried motions. “We need to talk.” 

Moiraine shut the door slowly, her brow furrowing as her gaze swept over Siuan. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.” 

Siuan exhaled sharply, the sound almost a growl as she ran a hand down her neck. “The gang’s got a lead on the princess,” she started, the words tumbling out in a clipped rush. “They’re dead set on thinkin’ she’s still alive, Moiraine - five thousand dollars alive. And they’ve got a new poster, with a new picture.” She paused, her throat tightening before the rest spilled out. “Damn thing… it looks hella like you.” 

Moiraine’s sleepy haze vanished in an instant. Her eyes went wide, fear carving itself into every line of her face. She staggered back, her hand flying out to steady herself against the worn table. The blood drained from her face, leaving her pale as snow - so pale that for a moment Siuan worried the woman might pass out.

“What?” she whispered, the word barely audible. Her chest rose and fell in shallow gasps as her gaze darted to Siuan. “How-”

She broke off, her jaw tightening as she sucked in a sharp breath, clearly fighting for control. When she spoke again, her voice was tight. “This can’t be happening.”

“It is,” Siuan muttered as she began pacing across the creaking floor. “Boss got the whole gang fired up. He’s gonna sendin’ people all over - searchin’ the Grizzlies, Roanoke, everywhere. I volunteered to scout, try to keep ’em off your trail, but it won’t last long.” She whirled around, voice catching on a rare hint of desperation. “We gotta figure somethin’ out, Moiraine. Now.” 

The huntress sank into a nearby chair, her face ashen. She stared up at Siuan, eyes wide and glistening. A lone tear escaped, sliding down her cheek before she even seemed aware of it. “How could they know?” she whispered. “I’ve been so careful. For years I-” 

Her words faltered, a sob choking her off. She raised a shaking hand to her mouth, as though trying to physically hold back the rising panic.

Siuan moved instinctively, dropping to her knees in front of Moiraine, her hands hovering, unsure if one wrong touch might shatter her entirely. “Hey,” she whispered, “this ain’t on you. We’ll figure it out. I swear on my own hide, you’re not gettin’ hauled back to that hell you ran from.” 

Moiraine squeezed her eyes shut, taking one shuddering breath after another. She brushed away the tear with unsteady fingers. “I- I can’t…,” she breathed. “I can’t go back, Siuan. I’d sooner die than face that again.

The rawness of those words slammed into Siuan like a punch to the ribs. Without overthinking any longer, she clamped her hand over Moiraine’s, her grip firm enough to steady the other woman’s trembling. “You won’t,” she vowed, low and fierce. “Not while there’s breath in my body.” 

Moiraine’s eyes fluttered open, dark lashes wet with tears she refused to shed. “Then what do you suggest?” she demanded. “That I run again? Leave everything behind for the second time in my life?”

“Join the gang.”  

Moiraine blinked, her expression freezing into something unreadable. For a long moment, she just stared at Siuan like she’d just suggested she ride a horse straight off a cliff. “Pardon me?” 

Siuan swallowed, already knowing how much Moiraine hated the idea. “I know it ain’t what you want. Hell, it ain’t what I want for you either. But think about it! It’s the best way to keep ‘em off your back. If you’re part of the gang, they won’t look twice. You’ll be hidin’ in plain sight.” Her voice gentled, though it didn’t lose urgency. “I’ll vouch for you. Tell ’em I found you runnin’ lone-wolf hunts up in the mountains. Say you signed on to help us find the princess, and that you can hunt as well. It’s perfect cover.”

Moiraine’s posture went rigid. “They’ll question everything,” she countered. “How we know each other, why I’d join now… They’re certainly not fools, Siuan.”

“I’ve got a story ready,” Siuan replied quickly. “I’ll say I came to you for leads on the princess. Hunters get around, pick up all kinds of cues and rumors, right?“ 

Moiraine’s voice hardened, turning cold enough to match the mountain air. “And the wanted poster? What happens when someone decides I look a little too much like that sketch?”

Siuan faltered, but only for a moment. The fire in her chest surged as she leaned forward, her desperation rising with her voice. “Then I’ll burn every last damn thing if I have to,” she said. “Gang, camp, the whole outfit - no one’s takin’ you away.” That fire in her eyes flickered, then steadied. “But it won’t come to that. Gareth trusts me, and I’ll make him trust you too.”

“No.” 

The single word felt like an iron gate slamming shut. Moiraine straightened, her trembling subsiding as something colder and steadier settled in her posture. “I will,” she said.

Siuan frowned, confused. “You will what?” 

Moiraine stood up so suddenly that the chair legs scraped across the floor, the sound grating on Siuan’s already frayed nerves. Without a word, she strode to a small wooden chest at the far end of the room. She knelt, flipping the latch open with unsteady hands, and rummaged through its contents. After digging through old scraps of cloth, she pulled out a folded sheet of paper. She stood, pressing the document into Siuan’s hands.

Siuan took it, unfolding it carefully, her eyes scanning the yellowed parchment. Her brow furrowed as she read aloud, “Moiraine… Damodred… born in… Annesburg, New Hanover?” 

“My parents forged it for me,” Moiraine explained, words clipped and precise, as if she wished she didn’t have to explain at all. “After they took me in. They knew someday-” her voice caught for a moment, but she forced it steady, “-I might need a story, papers, that made me look ordinary.”

Siuan’s heart ached at the thought of Moiraine’s childhood. She let her thumb rest on the corner of the document, swallowing the pity rising in her throat. “This might just do the trick,” she muttered, more to herself. “We’ll show Gareth when the time’s right. He’ll be satisfied you’re legit, and he won’t question my legwork either. Then it’s just a matter of you blendin’ in - no one ever suspects a princess to be countin’ supplies or takin’ watch on a cold night.” 

Moiraine’s throat worked as she swallowed, arms folded over her ribs like she was trying to hold herself in one piece. “But I’ll have to live among them,” she whispered. “People who’d sell me off for my uncle’s bloody money the second they suspect I’m not who I say.”

Siuan stepped closer until she stood right in front of the huntress. She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Moiraine’s cheek as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I know it’s askin’ a damn lot,” she said softly. “And I know it ain’t the live you wanted or deserve. But right now, it’s the best way I know to keep you safe. At least with the gang, you’ve got protection. And…” she hesitated, “you’ll have me.” 

Moiraine’s eyes lifted to meet Siuan’s, her gaze softening as her shoulders sagged slightly. “I don’t know, Siuan,” she said at last. “don’t want to join your gang. I don’t want to live that life. I wouldn’t even belong…”

Siuan’s chest tightened. She understood more than Moiraine knew. She thought of all the times she herself had questioned this life on the run, the guns, the crimes. But instead of letting the doubts surface, she reached out again, her thumb brushing across Moiraine’s cheekbone in a careful caress. 

“You’re right, you don’t belong with ‘em,” she agreed. “But you don’t have to. You just gotta stay safe. Think of it as… a trick to buy us time. Once talk dies down, once the scent goes cold, we’ll vanish. Together, if that’s what you want. Or go our own ways. But first, we gotta keep you safe.”  

Moiraine let out a shaky breath, eyes lowering to the floor, her arms uncrossing slowly as defense drained from her limbs. For a long moment, she didn’t answer, her mind clearly struggling with the choice before her. At last, she gave a terse nod. “Alright. If you think it’s the best way… then I’ll do it. But it’s temporary.”

“Temporary,” Siuan agreed, relief shining in her eyes. “You know you got my word, Moiraine. Not for a million dollars, not for nothin’ - no one’s gonna drag you back. I’ll make damn sure of that.” 

She lingered near Moiraine just a moment longer, her fingertips resting a beat longer than necessary against Moiraine’s cheek. Then she drew back with a ragged breath. “I gotta go,” she rasped. “Need to let Gareth know I’ve turned up a new lead… or a new recruit, more like. You get packed. Travel light. And for the love of all that’s holy, bury anything that could give you away. Your golden headpiece, anything fancy that might raise eyebrows if the boys decide to come sniffin’ around.”

Moiraine opened her mouth, as though she had a dozen things to say - questions or protests, Siuan could only guess - but in the end, she let it go and simply nodded. Another single tear slipped down her cheek before she brushed it aside. Siuan caught the movement, fought the urge to reach out again, but the moment passed. She tightened her jaw, steeled herself, and turned toward the door, leaving Moiraine to bury the last vestiges of who she once was.

Chapter Text

The ride back to camp dragged on slower than Siuan would’ve liked. Her mare plodded across the frostbitten trails, each hoof crunching over icy patches that shimmered under a dull, gray sky. She clutched the reins tighter than she needed to, her knuckles aching from the strain, though it was the restless storm in her head doing most of the damage.

She’d chewed through every angle of the plan by now, patching holes, sanding edges, and silently rehearsing each word until the whole thing gleamed, at least in theory.

Everything had to sell the story. One whiff of desperation, and Gareth would smell blood. Too casual, and he’d write it off before it took root. She needed him intrigued - enough to let Moiraine in, but not so curious that he’d start digging.

Her plan had to work. It had to. 

The camp’s clearing came into view, and Siuan felt the weight of a dozen stares even before her horse slowed. The camp was always tense when something big was brewing, but dangle dangle five thousand dollars in front of desperate folks and it only got worse. She didn’t really need to look around to know the entire gang was watching, waiting and hoping for good news from her end. 

She swung down from the saddle, making sure her boots landed solidly on the hard ground, steadying both her footing and her nerves. She glanced to the left and spotted Lan, standing watch at the usual post with his katana strapped to his back and rifle steady in his hands.

“You’re back early,” he said, his gaze trailing her. “I thought you’d be gone for a few days. Did you find something out there?”

Siuan tipped her hat and forced a lazy smirk, letting her voice carry the rough confidence that was expected from her. “Might’ve,” she replied, giving her horse a pat that she hoped looked more casual than calculated. “But it’s too soon to call it. Gotta see Gareth first.”

Her friend studied her a moment longer than comfortable, then gave a curt nod, chin pointing toward the fire pit. “He’s over there. Good luck.”

“Don’t need luck,” Siuan huffed under her breath, just loud enough to sound like an afterthought. The truth was, she needed a hell of a lot more than luck, but damned if she was about to let that show. Not to Lan. Not to anyone.

The fire pit was as familiar as her own boots, and so was Gareth, hunched over a tin mug of what was probably last night’s whiskey. His coat hung open despite the chill and his face was darkened by a night of drinking, though his eyes were sharp and sober when they snapped up at her.

“Miss Sanche,” he greeted, tone polite on the surface but hard enough to cut underneath. “Didn’t figure you’d be back so soon. Found somethin’ already?”

Siuan let her shoulders slump an inch, as though the weight of the day had pressed her flat. She scanned the faces at the edges of the firelight; Alanna, Ivhon and Maksim trading lazy banter near the wagon, Thom whittling away at something like the world depended on it, and the rest scattered in the shadows, hovering just close enough to catch every word.

Perfect. All the right ears were listening.

“Boss,” she began, letting her voice land in that sweet spot - disappointed, but not too much. Just enough to sell it, “I think we need to shift our strategy. Biting cold up there, barren mountains… not a damn sign of any princess. However…” She paused, as if she were calling all the shots. “We oughta form search teams soon, really dig in.”

Gareth nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah? You’re sure?” 

Siuan shrugged, keeping it casual. “Sure as can be. I’ll head back up there myself, take another look. But if there’s a royal hidin’ in the Grizzlies, she’s damn good at it. We’ll need more eyes.” 

Low murmurs flitted through the group, but she caught them all the same. From the corner of her eye, she saw Alanna stop mid-quarrel, her curiosity getting the better of her. Thom lowered his knife and leaned in closer, undeniably attentive for once. They weren’t looking at her like they suspected a lie, no, just the usual kind of interest outlaws always showed when money and work collided in the same breath.

So far, so good. 

Gareth exhaled heavily, clearly not thrilled that a whole princess hadn’t been conveniently delivered to his lap, roped, tied, and ready for the reward. But after a moment’s pause, he nodded. “Alright. Thanks for your assessment, Siuan.”

“My pleasure, boss,” she returned, letting a hint of enthusiasm seep into her tone, a calculated drip of optimism. “Don’t take it too hard, this is just the start. We’ll find her yet.” She let that settle for a beat, pretending there was still a light at the end of the tunnel, before adding, “Besides, I might’ve come across somethin’ else.”

Gareth’s brows rose in interest. “Oh yeah?”

Siuan nodded, letting her expression shift into something casual, like she wasn’t laying down the groundwork for the most dangerous gamble of her life.

“Remember I mentioned someone livin’ up there? A huntress who stole my deer?” She paused, watching the gathered faces. “Her name’s Moiraine. Knows the backcountry like the back of her hand. I tracked her down. Figured if anyone’s caught wind of rumors or heard somethin’ we don’t, it’d be her.”

She watched Gareth’s face shift from guarded to intrigued. Just as his lips parted to speak, Alanna straightened from her spot by the wagon, tilting her head like a cat catching sight of a mouse. 

“Wait a minute,” she drawled, a sly grin creeping onto her face. “Moiraine? As in your friend Moiraine? The one we met in Valentine?”

Siuan forced herself to stay loose, even though something twisted deep in her gut. She’d planned on using the name, this was part of the show, but hearing it come from Alanna’s mouth still cut uncomfortably close to the bone.

“Yep,” she replied, clipped. “Same one.”

“Oh my.” Alanna’s grin widened, clearly delighted by this revelation. “You’re ropin’ her into our little operations, huh? Gotta say, she didn’t exactly strike me as the gang type, but color me interested. What’s her deal?”

“She’s sharp,” Siuan answered, cutting clean through the teasing. “Knows the mountains, and she’s got a skill set we can use. I’m thinkin’ she’d make a mighty fine addition.”

A derisive snort cracked the air, drawing Siuan’s attention. Thom set down the knife he’d been fiddling with. His expression was incredulous, his tone even more so. “We’re out to bag five grand,” he said. “And you wanna bring in some stranger? Have you lost it, Siuan?”

Low rumbles of agreement followed. Siuan let them stir for a moment, her jaw tightening as she forced herself to stay patient. This had been expected, but timing was everything.

When the noise began to crest, she raised her hand, and the voices ebbed into a watchful silence, all eyes settling on her.

“Listen,” she raised her voice, “I ain’t saying we roll out the red carpet. I’m sayin’ we have a chance to use someone with real backwoods know-how. She’s a huntress, she can stay outta sight, and she can finish a job silently.”

“Or slit our throats first chance she gets,” Ivhon muttered from beside Alanna, earning a few nods.

Siuan’s shoulders tightened, but she held her ground. This was the moment she’d been prepping for - the trial by fire that would either cement her plan or burn it to ash. She had to be careful now, one wrong word and they’d start questioning her more than they already were.

“Enough,” Gareth barked suddenly, snapping the camp into silence. “I don’t know about this. Ivhon’s got a damn good point. We don’t need any complications. You absolutely sure she’s not playin’ us?” 

Siuan sucked in a breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze head-on. “I am,” she said, putting as much conviction as she could behind the words. “And if you need someone to vouch for her, that’s me. You can consider me her reference.”

A leaden hush settled over the camp and suspicion sizzled in the air like static. Siuan could practically feel the outlaws’ gazes boring into her, clearly questioning her motives. But she didn’t waver. She squared her shoulders and braced for the backlash or for the barrage of questions that could unravel everything or for whatever might come next.  

Gareth settled back in his chair, fingers tapping the armrest in a restless rhythm. “Sanche vouchin’ for someone,” he mused, almost thoughtful. “Now that’s a new one. She somethin’ special to you? Another relative?” 

The question slammed into Siuan like a hammer. Heat flared beneath her collar, and she fought the urge to rub at the back of her neck. People murmured around her, suspicion morphing into pity and something more personal. Siuan opened her mouth, ready to deflect with some clever remark, but before she could, another voice cut through the tension.

“I vouch for her too.”

Every head snapped toward the edge of the firelight as Lan stepped closer, his calm presence commanding the attention of the entire camp.

“I remember her,” he started explaining, voice low and unhurried. “Siuan introduced us in Valentine not too long ago. She didn’t seem like the kind to bring trouble, and if Siuan says she’s worth having here, I trust her judgment.”

Siuan flicked her eyes toward him, catching the hint of solidarity in his expression. Gratitude sparked in her chest, though she quickly schooled her face back into something more guarded. She cleared her throat, grounding herself, and turned her attention back to the boss.

“You know me, Gareth,” she said. “I don’t vouch for just anyone. She’s no stranger. She’s… my friend.”

Her voice stayed even, but inside, she warred with unbidden memories of stolen glances, of Moiraine’s lips against hers, the softness of her skin under her fingertips. Siuan resisted the urge to swallow hard and shoved those thoughts aside, forcing them into the depths of her mind where they wouldn’t betray her now.

“And I’ve got a good feeling about this,” she added, meeting his eyes unflinching. “But If I’m wrong… feel free to toss me to the wolves right along with her.”

Gareth’s gaze cut from Siuan to Lan and back again, clearly trying to piece together their angle. “Somebody enlighten me… what’s up with you two? Why’s Lan vouchin’ for her too, mh?” His eyes narrowed as they landed hard on the swordsman. “You sweet on her or somethin’?”

Lan’s face remained impassive. “No,” he said simply. “But I’ve known Siuan a long time. She’s careful. And you know we need another skilled set of hands, especially if we’re talkin’ five thousand dollars on the line.” 

Gareth pressed his lips into a thin line, the wheels in his head clearly turning. The hush in the camp felt heavy, as though everyone was leaning forward just a little, hungry for the verdict. Siuan could hear her heart thrumming in her ears, could feel the tension radiating off the crowd in prickling waves.

“Where’s she now?” Gareth asked at last.

“Packing her things,” Siuan answered. “I wanted to clear it with you before I brought her in. Figured that was the smart play.”

He tapped his fingers one more time, then let his gaze sweep over the gathered outlaws. “Alright,” he said, lifting his chin. “Let’s take a vote.” 

A ripple passed through the crowd. Some exchanged doubtful looks, others shrugged like they had nothing better to do anyway. One by one, they voiced their opinions; a few shrugs of acceptance, a handful of mumbled complaints, and the usual blend of cynicism and curiosity that seemed to guide every camp decision.

When the final tally came, it was close, much closer than Siuan had hoped, but still, the decision was made. By the narrowest of margins, the gang had agreed to let Moiraine join.

Gareth nodded sharply, his grin coming back like he’d been in favor of the idea all along. “Well, that’s that,” he drawled. “But before she’s really one of us, I want to meet this Moiraine myself. Face to face. Tomorrow. Bring her here, and we’ll see if she measures up.” 

Siuan dipped her head in a gesture of agreement. “Fair enough,” she said, her tone calm on the surface. But beneath that composure, her nerves buzzed like a colony of bees, every thought racing ahead to tomorrow. Moiraine would stand under the full scrutiny of Gareth and the gang. One misstep, and all hell could break loose. They’d have to play it flawlessly.

“But kid,” Gareth added, voice darkening slightly, “if this is some kinda trick I’m holding you responsible. Understand?”

“Understood,” Siuan replied, tipping her hat in a respectful half-salute. She didn’t trust her voice to say more.

*

Siuan’s horse moved at a steady pace, the morning air biting at her face, but she barely registered the cold. Not with Moiraine sitting behind her, her arms wrapped loosely around Siuan’s waist for balance.

Each jostle of the saddle brought Moiraine that much closer, making Siuan’s pulse quicken despite the chill. The faint lavender scent teased her senses until focusing on the path ahead - or their plan - took every ounce of willpower she had.

Still, the tension between them was sharp enough to taste in the frosty air. Neither seemed eager to speak, so they kept conversation during their journey to the bare necessities.

“Gareth’ll want to meet you first thing,” Siuan said eventually, pitching her voice just above the crunch of hooves. “He’s got questions, but it’s just a formality…” She tried to sound reassuring, though she wasn’t sure she believed her own words. “Show him you’re useful, stick to the plan, and he’ll come around.” 

Behind her, the huntress let out a noncommittal hum. Siuan felt a pang of guilt coil tighter in her chest. She couldn’t blame her for being guarded - how could she? Plucked from one life, forced to run again, only to land in another patch of trouble. Siuan knew it wasn’t fair. None of this was.

Her grip tightened slightly on the reins as her thoughts churned. She wished she could offer Moiraine some kind of promise, some sort of stability, but what could she say? At best, all she could offer was a day at a time.

“Maybe someday.“

As they rode into camp, the shift in atmosphere hit like a sudden drop in temperature. The gang’s heads turned one by one, loud voices trailing off into murmurs as they took in the sight of Siuan riding double with the stranger.

Conversations died, replaced by a low hum of speculation as she dismounted and helped the other woman down. For sure, no one missed the way Moiraine steadied herself momentarily on Siuan’s arm before stepping away, chin lifted. 

Every stare pressed in on them, but she kept her stance relaxed, one hand draped over her gun belt. Act unbothered, and half the battle was won.

“Well, well,” Gareth drawled from his usual spot near the fire. He stood, dusting his hands against his thighs and flashing that signature grin of his. “You actually brought her.”

His gaze slid over the huntress, sizing her up like she was a fresh breed of horse at auction. Every inch of his look spoke of calculation, weighing her worth against the risks. “Let’s see ‘bout all that praise Siuan’s been singin’ about you.”

Moiraine seemed unshaken by his bark. She tugged her blue coat straighter and met his stare head-on. “I’m confident I can pull my weight,” she said evenly. “I’m guessing that’s all that matters.” 

Gareth’s laughter came short and hollow. “We’ll see.” He jerked his head toward his tent, not bothering to hide the flicker of challenge in his eyes. “How ‘bout we have ourselves a quick little chat, just you and me.”

The huntress hesitated, glancing over at Siuan for the briefest moment. Siuan nodded once, keeping her tone low. “You’ll be fine,” she murmured. 

With that, Moiraine followed Gareth into the tent. The canvas flap closed behind them, and the camp seemed to exhale all at once.

Siuan stayed near her horse, one hand resting on the saddle horn, her stance relaxed like she didn’t give a damn about the stares boring into her back. But inside, each second felt like a rope cinching tighter around her lungs.

She could hear the questions as clearly as if she were the one facing them behind the canvas flap; Who are you? Where are you from? Why join an outlaw gang?

Gareth’s usual interrogations, no doubt. But if Moiraine slipped, if even a single answer rang false… Siuan didn’t let herself finish the thought.

Instead, she forced her gaze to the horizon, letting the distant outline of frost-tipped pines anchor her. Worrying was a waste of energy. It wouldn’t help Moiraine now, wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Minutes stretched into a small eternity. Siuan half expected to hear raised voices from inside, or see Moiraine storm out. But the camp remained eerily quiet, save for the crackling fire and the low murmur of voices in the background.

Then, finally, the tent flap shifted, and Moiraine emerged. 

She looked guarded, shoulders tense beneath her coat, but she gave Siuan the tiniest nod, barely more than a dip of her chin. Still, it spoke volumes; “The plan’s still good. We’re still in this.”

Without a word, she then moved off to the fringes of camp, putting a careful distance between herself and the knot of hovering gang members who eyed her with varying degrees of suspicion.

A second later, Gareth’s voice followed, “Sanche, get in here.”

Moiraine cast Siuan one final look, quick and loaded with meaning only the two of them could understand. Siuan met her gaze briefly, drawing in a slow, steadying breath before turning and slipping through the tent flap.

The space inside felt stifling, soaked with the tang of stale tobacco and old whiskey. A thin haze of smoke drifted beneath the lantern’s glow, curling in lazy spirals that caught on dust motes in the air. Gareth lounged in his chair like a bored predator, boots crossed at the ankles, his gaze flicking up in a lazy half-lidded appraisal.

“She’s an interestin’ one, your friend,” he began. He dragged out the word friend just enough to sound mocking. “Good with words. Collected. Calm. Confident. Almost too good at hiding her nerves… makes me wonder what she’s got rattlin’ around in that head of hers.” 

Oh, the irony. Siuan could’ve laughed if the stakes weren’t so damn high. She agreed with him. Moiraine was a vault of secrets, locked tighter than anything Siuan had ever seen. But now wasn’t the time for honesty.

Folding her arms, she kept her tone steady and cool. “She’s been on her own for a while. Reckon this kinda life that teaches you a thing or two about composure.” 

Gareth let out a low, humorless laugh. “Take a seat,” he said, tapping the back of a rickety chair across from him. “No sense loomin’ over me.” 

Siuan took the chair, legs spread, forearms on her knees - casual enough to seem unbothered, though every muscle was tensed under her skin. Her eyes flicked briefly to the table as Gareth reached for the wanted poster lying between them.

“So, Sanche,” he said, leaning in. “You peer at this poster and tell me you don’t see your friend’s face in there… Because I’ve been lookin’, and I can’t shake the resemblance.” 

Siuan forced herself to glance at the poster, the same one that had haunted her ever since Gareth first waved it around camp, studying the paper as if she hadn’t already memorized it. The approximation of high cheekbones, dark hair… it was close enough to make her palms sweat. Still, she tried to look unimpressed.

She allowed herself a faint scoff. “Resemblance to what? Some half-baked doodle that could pass for half the ladies in Saint Denis alone? The only real likeness I see is that they both got dark hair, and last I checked, dark hair ain’t exactly rare.” 

Gareth’s stare turned steely. “Dark hair’s not the only thing I’m seein’. High cheekbones, that cut of the jaw… that could be your Moiraine, easy.”

Siuan leaned back slightly, feigning a dismissive shrug. “Ain’t that a stretch, boss?” she huffed. “That’s the whole thing with drawings like that. Did you ever look at your own bounty picture? Does it look like you? Hell, mine don’t even come close. If posters were worth a damn, we’d all be rotting in a cell by now.”

The man didn’t look entirely convinced. “Look, all I’m askin’ you is if you’re sure you know your friend, Siuan? Know where she came from, what she’s really after?”

Siuan snorted, rolling her shoulders as if she took offense at the very suggestion. “Yeah, I’ve hunted with her, she’s no pampered runaway. And I’m not real keen on throwin’ five grand in the trash!“ She paused, letting the words land. “If I thought for a second she’d put us at risk, I never would’ve brought her here.” 

Gareth’s jaw shifted side to side, clearly working through his doubts. Siuan held his stare, trying not to show even a flicker of doubt. Finally, he leaned back again.

“And if you’re wrong?” he prompted.

Siuan braced herself, letting the silence stretch for a beat before answering flatly, “Then I’ll pay for it. But I’m not.”

“Alright, Sanche. Let’s see if your gambler’s gut is worth a damn.” He straightened in his chair. “If she’s got nothin’ to hide, she won’t mind doin’ a little more talkin’. Maybe with a few more… straightforward methods, if necessary.”

Siuan pushed back from her chair. She tried to mask the way she swallowed hard, stepping outside into the biting air. The cold hit her like a slap, a sharp reprieve from the suffocating closeness of the tent. He wouldn’t hurt Moiraine… would he? No, it won’t come to that. 

Her gaze found the other woman immediately, standing off to the side where the shadows stretched long and thin. Siuan tilted her head, a silent indication that it was time.

“He wants proof,” she said in a low whisper as she approached, keeping her voice just loud enough to carry between them. “You’ve got your papers?”

Moiraine nodded once, and though her face was calm, Siuan could sense the same buzz of anxiety that she felt herself. Side by side, they stepped back into the tent.

Gareth sat where she’d left him, arms folded tightly across his chest. His eyes darted between them as they entered, his expression cool and heavy with calculation.

“Siuan here says we got no reason to doubt you,” he began. “But words are cheap these days. You got any idea what we could do ‘bout that, Miss Moiraine? Any way to show us who you really are, what you really want… black and white?”

Calmly, the huntress pulled a folded piece of paper from her bag. Her fingers trembled so slightly, only Siuan would have noticed. “My birth certificate,” she said, her voice level as she handed it over. “It’s all I’ve got to prove my name. As for my intentions, you’ll have to take my word.”

Gareth accepted the document, unfolding the sheet with a care that felt oddly reverent for him. “Moiraine Damodred,” he read slowly. “Born in Annesburg, New Hanover. William and Mary Damodred your folks… Well, that’s quite a mouthful you got for a name.” 

Moiraine’s lips quirked in the faintest of smiles, her tone turning deceptively mild. “It’s served me well enough. Mind if I ask your parents’ name? Just curious how the man questionin’ me turned out to be so… gracious.”

Siuan barely suppressed the groan rising in her chest. She shot Moiraine a sidelong glance, her heart thudding faster as a wave of panic surged beneath her calm facade.

“Christ, Moiraine, don’t get clever now.”

To her surprise, a flicker of amusement sparked in Gareth’s eyes, though he masked it quickly behind a scowl. “Careful,” he said in a warning tone. “I’m the one doin’ the questionin’ here.” 

Moiraine politely inclined her head. “Of course. I’m just pointing out none of us pick our parents - or what they decided to name us.” 

The boss chuckled, though it was without much humor. “Fair enough. We all get stuck with some brand or another.” His grin sharpened as his eyes swept over her. “Now, how’d a young, pretty girl like you end up all the way out here, hooking up with a ragtag bunch of outlaws instead of a nice husband to take care of her?”

Moiraine shifted slightly on her feet, clearly not pleased with this particular question. “Bad luck, mostly. Or maybe good luck, depending on how you look at it. I can hunt, track, and keep to myself, figured I might as well earn a living, especially if there’s a reward that big in the balance.” She let a beat pass. “Don’t see how that makes me suspect.” 

Gareth pursed his lips, glancing from her to the birth certificate still in his hands. Finally, he refolded it and flicked it back toward Moiraine. “We’re a cautious bunch,” he said, that old smirk creeping onto his face. “We have to be. The law sure as hell ain’t on our side. If there’s even a whisper of trouble, it can cost us more than money.”

“I’ve never been one for whispering,” the huntress returned coolly, sliding the paper into her bag. “I’d rather say my piece straight to your face.” 

A faint, grudging respect flickered across Gareth’s expression though it vanished as quickly as it came. He cleared his throat, raising his voice so both of them would know this was a pronouncement.

“Alright, Miss Damodred. Stick around, show us what you can do. We’ll see if you’re worth your keep. For now… welcome to the gang.” 

Siuan released the breath she’d been holding, forcing her face into a casual half-smile. “See, told ya she’d be fine,” she said, shooting Moiraine a sideways glance. “Guess we can jump right into the business of earnin’ that five grand. Unless you want another round of paperwork, boss.” 

Gareth waved them off with a dismissive gesture, though a trace of amusement curved his lips. “Go on, both of you. But don’t get too comfortable. I’ll be watchin’.” 

Moiraine stepped outside first, and Siuan followed, biting back a smile of relief. One step down, a hundred more to go. But for the moment, at least, their plan was still on track.

Chapter Text

They stepped out of Gareth’s tent into the sharp bite of winter air. Siuan shot a glance sideways, her gaze snagging on Moiraine. Those blue eyes of hers flicked right back toward her, and for a brief moment, there was a shared understanding between them:

Their plan held.

Siuan felt the corner of her mouth tugging upward before she remembered herself. Too much. Too revealing… given they were still in open camp. She quickly forced the grin down, schooling her expression back into something casual. 

“C’mon,” she muttered, jerking her chin toward a small cluster of tents on the far side of camp. “Sleeping spot’s that way.”

Moiraine nodded without a word, falling into step beside her.

They weren’t far before the stares began. One by one, heads turned and curious eyes lifted from half-finished chores. Conversations dipped into low murmurs, the noise of the camp slowing as if to give everyone time to sneak a good look at their newest addition.

Siuan didn’t need to guess what was running through their minds. A new recruit was enough to stir curiosity, but Moiraine? With her sharp, clean features and that proud posture of hers, she was bound to draw attention. Moreover, she didn’t exactly look like the kind of person who’d curse under her breath or swipe a pack of cigars when no one was looking. That alone was enough to make folks wonder.

Siuan felt the weight of it all, the unabashed curiosity, the unspoken questions. She fought the urge to scowl, to snap at them to quit gawking and get back to their damn business. But she bit back the sharp words, swallowed the fire in her throat, and focused on what mattered: getting Moiraine settled without drawing more attention than they already had.

“Winter’s a pain in the ass,” she said loudly, drawing eyes back to her instead of the huntress. “Means we’re crammin’ in like sardines, fightin’ over who gets the half-decent blankets. So…” She tipped her head toward the nearest tent, doing her best to sound like this was no big deal. “You and me’ll be bunkmates. Ain’t no spare setups or room for privacy when the snow’s thick like this.”

She didn’t let her gaze linger on Moiraine as she spoke, didn’t dare. The words felt heavier in her mouth than they should’ve, knowing full well what they meant.

Because the truth was, this was its own kind of torture. Siuan could already feel the slow burn in her chest, that now-familiar heat Moiraine seemed to ignite just by existing near her. The idea of being stuck in close quarters with her, of her scent lingering in the tiny space, tied her stomach into a tight, messy knot of anticipation and dread.

Still, she kept her face neutral. Well, mostly. Maybe her mouth twitched into a little foolish smile she couldn’t quite suppress as she grabbed the tent flap and held it open. With a slight tilt of her head, she motioned for Moiraine to go first.

The huntress didn’t hesitate. She ducked inside, her movements as fluid as ever despite the weight of the stares she’d just walked through.

Siuan followed her in, letting the flap drop closed with a muted thud. “Here we are,” she muttered. “Home sweet home.”

The relief of shutting out the camp’s prying eyes was immediate, but the tension in her chest didn’t ease. No, it probably even doubled in the close confines of the tent. 

The space was, to put it kindly, a damn shoebox. Cramped didn’t begin to cover it - turn too fast and you’d end up jabbing an elbow into the other’s ribs. A single cot sat against the wall, its blankets rumpled from Siuan’s restless tossing the night before. Her things were scattered with all the care of someone who couldn’t be bothered to tidy up; a battered hat half-tossed over a pile of shirts, a tin of hair oil left open, and a leaning tower of cigarette packs threatening to topple off the edge of the tiny table. The air carried a faint mix of leather, smoke, and whatever scent had settled into her coat. 

Moiraine stood by the cot, her fingers brushing the edge of a blanket as she took it all in. If she had an opinion about the mess, she didn’t show it. Her face was as unreadable as ever, but the slight tilt of her head made Siuan wonder what, exactly, she was thinking. 

Was she judging it? Or was she… liking it? Even just a little?

Siuan shifted, folding her arms as she leaned against the tent pole, trying not to look too eager for approval. “Well,” she started, only to feel a flicker of self-consciousness, “sorry I didn’t, uh, tidy up. Time’s been… scarce.”

“Don’t worry at all.” Moiraine glanced over at her, a touch amused. “It’s… cozy.”

“Cozy.” That earned her a snort from Siuan. “That’s generous of you.” She scrubbed a hand over the back of her neck, trying not to feel embarrassed as her gaze flicked toward the cot again. “Ain’t much, but it’s warm. Warmer’n out there, anyhow.” She hesitated, the next words coming slower. “I’ll, uh… take the floor. You take the bed.”

She tried to say it like it was no big deal, like the prospect of sleeping on a half-frozen floor didn’t bother her in the slightest. But the truth was, lying on the cold, hard ground with just a thin blanket between her and frostbite wasn’t exactly her idea of comfort. Not that it mattered. The idea of Moiraine on the floor was much worse.

“Don’t be silly,” the huntress said briskly, her tone sharp enough to cut off any protest before it could form. “We’ll share.”

Siuan blinked. “Share? You sure?” 

“Of course,” she replied, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “It’s practical. Neither of us will freeze that way.”

Practical. Right. 

Siuan swallowed hard, her fingers twitching uselessly at her sides. Did Moiraine truly understand what sharing this bed meant? Close enough to hear every breath, feel every shift, every heartbeat between them? Maybe she didn’t realize. Or maybe… she did.

That thought burned hotter than it should have, spreading from Siuan‘s chest to her neck until it felt like her collar was choking her.

Sharing a tent was already a bad enough idea. Sharing a bed, night after night? A recipe for disaster. Not just because the thing was smaller than the one in Valentine, though it was by a damn sight. The real problem was Siuan herself. She didn’t know if she’d be able to keep her thoughts, her feelings - or her hands - in check.

She coughed awkwardly, rough enough to hide the rasp in her voice. “If you say so,” she muttered, her eyes fixed stubbornly on the far corner of the tent, anywhere but Moiraine’s lips.

Even then, the shift in the other woman‘s expression wasn’t lost on her; it softened, her tone gentler now. “Thank you for sharing your space. I promise not to be too much trouble.”

“Trouble?“ Siuan repeated, forcing a grin that felt more nervous than easy. “Nah, you’re no trouble. Not like we ain’t shared a bed before, right?”

Moiraine’s gaze flicked to the cot, a faint blush dusting her pale cheeks. “Yes,” she said softly, her voice almost thoughtful.

That blush did things to Siuan.

She cleared her throat again, trying to shake off the heat pooling in her belly. “Right, so…” she started, fumbling for something, anything, to say. “Uh… there’s a crate for your things, if you want,” she added, nodding toward a small stack in the corner. “It ain’t fancy, but it’ll do.”

The huntress nodded and knelt, unpacking her belongings with the same calm precision that seemed to define her. Siuan turned her focus to the cot, determined to busy herself. She shook out the rumpled blankets, folding them neatly at the foot of the bed. Her hands moved on autopilot, trying to drown out the insistent thought that they’d both be lying there soon, close enough for her to count every freckle scattered across Moiraine’s face.

Night. After. Night.

“Would you mind if I put this here?” Moiraine’s voice broke through her thoughts. Siuan blinked, noticing the dreamcatcher in her hands. “Just above the bed?”

“Uh… sure,” she said, straightening up. “Go on, hang it wherever suits you. This is your space now, too.” 

Moiraine moved carefully, almost reverently, as she tied the dreamcatcher to the headboard. The small bones clinked softly as she adjusted the delicate piece, like she was weaving something unseen into the air rather than just hanging a trinket.

Siuan watched, unable to help herself. There was something about the way Moiraine moved, the care in her hands, that made the atmosphere feel different - an unspoken tenderness.

“You’re mighty fond of that thing, ain’t ya,“ Siuan murmured, not quite a question but more of an observation. 

Moiraine’s hand stilled on the dreamcatcher. Her eyes shifted to Siuan, and a faint, bittersweet smile curved her lips. “I am,” she said gently. “I suppose it reminds me of what my mother stood for. She believed the land and all its gifts were sacred.” There was a tremor in her voice, slight but enough to hit Siuan square in the chest.

“You doin’ alright, Moiraine?” she asked softly, stepping closer before she’d fully decided to.

Moiraine exhaled, her gaze drifting back to the dreamcatcher. “Most days, yes” she said. “Just… there are moments when I realize how little I have left of them.” 

The words settled heavy between them. Siuan reached out, her hand brushing Moiraine’s sleeve lightly. “C’mon. Sit with me?” she urged, nodding toward the cot behind them.

Siuan settled onto the edge of it, the thin mattress creaking under her weight. She patted the space beside her, and after a brief pause, the huntress joined her.

The faint hum of voices from the camp trickled through the canvas walls, but here, inside the tent, it felt like they were wrapped in their own quiet world.

Siuan tilted her head, studying Moiraine’s profile. The light from an oil lantern softened her features, but it couldn’t touch the shadows in her expression. 

“Tell me about ‘em,” Siuan said after a spell of silence. “Your folks. I’d like to know more.” 

Moiraine’s fingers found the hem of her coat, fidgeting with the blue fabric as her eyes grew distant, unfocused. It was as if she were looking past the tent, past the camp, to some faraway memory only she could see.

“My mother…,” she began. A fragile smile flickered across her lips, warming her face for a fleeting moment. “She was beautiful. I know that might sound shallow, but she had this light about her… like she carried the sun in her smile. My father used to say the first time he saw her, he didn’t stand a chance.”

Siuan dipped her head. “Mary, right?” She paused briefly. “From your folks’ names on your birth certificate?” 

Moiraine turned her gaze to Siuan, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through her wistfulness. “Not quite,” she replied, a soft laugh curling under the words. “Her real name was Meli. In Choctaw, it means ‘bitter’ or ‘sweet,’ depending on the interpretation. Though she was never anything but sweet. Kind. Always kind.” 

Siuan nodded, leaning forward slightly, her hands clasped loosely between her knees. “And your pa? Not William, then?”

“That part’s true. William.” Her smile faltered as her gaze slipped away again, lost in memory. “He wasn’t Choctaw, though. Her family saw him as an outsider, a threat. And his family disapproved of her for the same reasons. They didn’t belong anywhere, so in the end, they stopped trying. They ran away, built their home high in the mountains, far from anyone who could tell them they didn’t fit.”

“So they did it their own way,” Siuan noted quietly, picturing two lovers carving out a life on the rugged slopes where only the wind could judge them. “Reckon that’s the only kind of freedom worth havin’. The kind you make for yourself.”

The huntress nodded faintly. “It wasn’t an easy life, though,” she continued. “It was harsh at times. Not many comforts. But my father always said it was worth every hardship to be with her.”

Her voice broke, just slightly, on the last words. She swallowed hard, her throat working against the weight of it. “But then they were… gone. Just… like that.” 

Siuan felt her chest tighten, the sharp ache of someone else’s grief settling deep. She reached out again, this time brushing her fingers over Moiraine’s hand.

It wasn’t much, a fleeting touch, but the small contact seemed to shatter something in the woman. Her composure cracked, and a quiet, strangled sob escaped her lips. Tears slipped down her cheeks, silent at first, but then she shook her head, as if trying to push them back.

“Hey now,” Siuan said softly, shifting so she was facing Moiraine fully. “It’s alright. You ain’t gotta hold it all in.” 

Moiraine shook her head again. “I- God, I’m usually not so… undone,” she whispered, as if saying it aloud made it worse. “It’s just… everything that’s happening right now. All of it. Sometimes I feel like I’m unraveling.” Her hand came up to her face, shielding her tears as though they were something shameful. “I’m sorry.”

“You hush with that sorry business,” Siuan said gently, sliding an arm across Moiraine’s shoulders. “You don’t gotta apologize for feelin’ somethin’. ’Specially not around me.”  

The words landed, pulling a faint, watery laugh from Moiraine. Slowly, she let her hand fall away, her tears still glistening but her shoulders beginning to relax. Siuan gave her a light squeeze, her hand lingering just long enough to let Moiraine know she meant what she was saying. 

“Lord knows I’m no unshakable rock either. We can both have our moments,” Siuan said after a beat, her voice quieter now, more reflective. “Ain’t no rule sayin’ we gotta face it all alone.”

The huntress looked up at her then, her tear-streaked face so open, so vulnerable, that it nearly broke Siuan in two. Those sharp blue eyes were wide now, searching, the walls entirely gone in this moment. 

“Thank you,” Moiraine murmured. “I… I’ve been alone for so long. It feels… strange to let anyone see me like this. And I’ve never talked about their death like this before. Not to anyone.” 

Siuan swallowed hard, her throat tightening against the lump rising in it. For a moment, the right words danced just out of reach, taunting her. Then she exhaled sharply, deciding to cut through the noise in her head.

“Look, I ain’t much for elegant speeches, so I’ll just spit it out.” She glanced down, then back up, locking eyes with Moiraine. “I like you, Moiraine.”

The words felt too simple, like they barely scratched the surface of what she meant, so Siuan tried to push herself. “Hell, I like all of you. Every damned bit of you. The strong, the vulnerable, the frightened, and the tough. Even the parts you’re still figuring out or are too proud to show.” 

The tent seemed to fall into an even deeper hush, the space between them growing impossibly still as Moiraine’s tears slowed.

“I… I like you, too,” she admitted at last. “Very much.”  

The confession hung between them, raw and unpolished. Moiraine’s breath hitched, and before either of them could talk themselves out of it, Siuan leaned in.

Their foreheads touched first, a soft press of reassurance. Then Moiraine’s lips found Siuan’s, and the kiss that followed was gentler than any they’d shared before. It was almost aching, filled with everything they didn’t have the words for. Siuan tasted the salt of Moiraine’s tears on her lips, and it only made her want to pull her closer, as if holding her tighter could mend all the things that had been broken. 

Her brows furrowed as she deepened the kiss, her hand sliding to the back of Moiraine’s neck, fingers threading gently into her dark hair. She wanted to take all of Moiraine’s pain and bury it, kiss away every sorrow until there was nothing left but warmth and love.

But as the moment deepened, an awareness flickered - the world outside, the risk.

The entire camp was a hotbed of prying eyes right now, and they had more than just a secret romance at stake. If anyone in camp would be watching - hell, if Gareth so much as caught a whiff of what was going on between them - chaos would break loose. Whatever trust and authority Siuan’d scraped together in this place would crumble faster than a wagon wheel on a bad trail.

With a shaky breath, she broke the kiss, though their foreheads stayed pressed together. “Camp ain’t exactly a private place,” she muttered, regret thick in her whisper. “We… uh… you know. Probably shouldn’t.” 

Moiraine’s cheeks were flushed, the color blooming high across her cheekbones, and her lips still hung slightly parted, as if she couldn’t quite agree to stop the moment. Her eyes, hazy and unfocused, lingered on Siuan’s face a moment longer before she finally nodded, her throat bobbing with a hard swallow. 

“Right,” she murmured. She glanced at the tent flap, her fingers briefly brushing against her own lips like she was trying to hold onto the sensation of the kiss a little longer. “I was… forgetting where we are.”

Siuan chuckled low, the sound rough and tired. “Easy to do,” she admitted, though her chest ached with the effort of pulling herself back from the edge. She shifted, her hand lingering briefly on Moiraine’s arm before she pulled away completely. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want this. Just… we gotta be careful. Too many damn ears and eyes out there.” 

Moiraine nodded again, this time more firmly. The longing between them was undeniable, but so was the understanding.

They shared a long, heavy look, filled with regretful yearning, before both moved to stand. The cot groaned under the shift of their weight, and Moiraine turned away, hastily blotting her damp cheeks with the back of her hand. She smoothed her coat with quick, practiced motions, as though the familiar action might help her find her composure.

“We should…,” Siuan began, voice still shaking off the haze of the kiss. “Maybe I should show you the rest of the camp now. Where to wash up, where the supplies are. You know, the basics.” 

“Yes. That’s… that’s a good idea.”

“Alright then,” Siuan clapped her hands together, her tone attempting brightness, though it came out a little too forced. “Let’s get you acquainted with this fine patch of dirt we call home.” 

For a moment, neither of them moved, the the current of shared desire still thrumming between them. But then Siuan stepped forward, lifting the flap and letting in a sharp gust of cold wind. 

Somewhere outside, someone shouted in frustration over a card game, followed by the crack of a fist against wood and a string of curses in reply. 

Siuan smirked faintly, shaking her head as she held the flap open for Moiraine. “Yep,” she muttered, her voice dry. “Welcome to gang life.”

Chapter Text

The days after Moiraine settled into camp dragged like a wagon stuck in mud. Siuan couldn’t tell if time had slowed to spite her or if her nerves were just frayed thin from keeping one eye on the newcomer at all times. Having the huntress so close - sharing the same damn camp, the same fire, even the same blankets - wasn’t quite the comfort Siuan had imagined. Instead, it felt like Moiraine was miles out of reach.

Ironically, the frost-bitten nights offered her the only sense of relief. To the rest of the gang, sharing a tent with Moiraine was just common sense. Nobody batted an eye at bunkmates when the cold gnawed deep into your bones. But for Siuan, it was more than practicality. It was the only sliver of peace she got in a world that had a nasty habit of taking more than it gave.

Each night, Siuan would lie there with her back turned to the other woman, acutely aware of her warmth, her subtle scent of lavender soap, her soft breaths and sighs when she was falling asleep. Siuan told herself she didn’t care, that the sounds and scents didn’t linger, didn’t burrow under her skin. But sometimes, in the quiet dark, she wondered the huntress might be staring into the same blank patch of darkness, thinking the same torrent of thoughts as she did.  

Still, Siuan never turned around. She didn’t trust where a single shared look might lead. They were hanging by threads already - her own resolve, the thin line between what was real and what could never be, and, first and foremost, Moiraine’s shaky footing in the camp. 

The newcomer, for her part, fit into gang life about as well as a silver spoon in a pig trough. She wasn’t an effortless match, not by a long shot, but nobody could say she wasn’t pulling her weight either. Moiraine threw herself into the daily grind with a precision that made the others look sloppy by comparison. She took her share of chores without complaint and did them so methodically, so neatly, that even the lazier gang members would sit up straighter when she was around, as if her sheer presence demanded better.

But for all that effort, Moiraine still held herself apart, like she was made of something the rest of them couldn’t touch. The polite nods and clipped smiles she offered were enough to keep most folks at bay. People tried to pry, sure, but they might as well have been talking to a brick wall. 

The only one who seemed to get past the surface was Lan. Siuan had caught them sitting by the fire more than once, talking in low voices. Moiraine, the perfect picture of composure, would sit impossibly straight, her hands clasped neatly in her lap, yet there was something softer about her in those moments. Lan, with his calm presence, seemed to draw her out in ways Siuan couldn’t fathom. A tilt of her head here, a faint curl of her lips there, sometimes even a brief chuckle… 

Part of Siuan wondered if she should be relieved that Lan was one of the only folks mindful enough not to ask too many nosy questions. Another part couldn’t help feeling… well, something uglier whenever she saw the two of them sitting so close together. 

It wasn’t jealousy, she told herself. Of course it wasn’t. It was just good sense to keep an eye on things. Lan didn’t know who Moiraine really was, and it was Siuan’s job to keep him and the gang none the wiser. That was all it was. Nothing else.

Right? Right!

But still…

It was downright odd to see Moiraine, who was so closed-off and untouchable, find common ground with Lan, of all people. The man was about as talkative as a tree stump. Then again, maybe that was why it worked. He wasn’t the prying type; he just sat and listened. And Moiraine, well, she didn’t have to give much of herself away to match his silence. It was a sort of unspoken understanding between them, and Siuan couldn’t decide if it put her at ease or set her on edge.

Whatever it was, she did what she was good at: keeping watch. Always close enough to know what was going on, far enough not to draw the wrong kind of attention. But the truth was, it got harder with each sunrise.

The gang was still sniffing around rumors of princess Isabeau. Gareth had gotten serious about it, sending out search parties to look for trails, rumors… anything that might lead to the bounty dangling like a curse over their heads. Siuan, however, made damn sure she was the one organizing most of those groups, deciding who went where and when.

Nobody questioned it - Siuan Sanche was Gareth’s right hand, and she liked having control. It kept her steady, kept her ahead of the game. It also meant that when the time came, Moiraine would be in her group. Always in her sights. Always safe.

*

The icy morning felt sharper than most, the air biting at exposed skin as Siuan led Moiraine through camp just as the first light broke over the horizon. Frost clung to every blade of grass beneath their boots, making each crunch underfoot sound loud enough to feel like they were announcing their presence to anyone who cared to listen.

Siuan kept her pace steady, guiding the other woman across the heart of camp with her chin tipped just enough to show she wasn’t paying the slightest bit of mind to the curious stares that followed them - and there were plenty. Some of the crew leaned forward on their chairs, their nosy expressions as plain as day. Others pretended to be preoccupied, hiding behind mugs of coffee or the smoke curling from their pipes, but their sideways glances gave them away.

Siuan set her jaw and squared her shoulders as she forged ahead, determined to look like there was nothing worth gawking at in the first place. Most folks tended to keep their curiosities to themselves when faced with that kind of bold front. 

Up ahead, Gareth stood by the chuck wagon, tipping his hat as they passed. “Mornin’,” he called, giving the two women a quick once-over. “Out for a stroll, or got bigger plans?”

Siuan stopped just long enough to give him a hard look. “Water-haulin’,” she said, her tone flat enough to make it clear she wasn’t in the mood for his games this early in the morning. “You fixin’ to help, or just stand there flappin’ your gums?”

The boss gave a lazy chuckle. “Wouldn’t dream of slowin’ you down. Looks like you two got it handled just fine.”

Siuan didn’t bite. She clamped her mouth shut, deciding not to poke the bear. A clipped nod was all she gave in return before pressing on, leaving Gareth to his pipe and stupid grin.

The noise of camp life followed them; someone cussing about misplaced tack, another voice muttering complaints over hay bales. It was the usual racket of folks who hated their chores but didn’t have a choice in the matter. Siuan steered them clear of the worst of it, heading toward a couple of battered barrels perched on the far edge of camp.

“Creek’s just down that slope,” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “Everyone takes a turn every couple weeks haulin’ water. Ain’t the most glamorous job, but if you want hot coffee and oatmeal for breakfast, you pay your dues.”

Moiraine’s lips curved into the faintest smile, one of those guarded expressions that never quite reached her eyes but still managed to stir something in Siuan. “I assure you, I’m no stranger to manual labor. Believe it or not, I’ve lugged my fair share of buckets.”

The slight quirk on the other woman’s lips got under Siuan’s skin in the best way. “Good,” she teased with a raised brow. “Guess we’ll see if you’re still smilin’ after the third trip.”

They descended the slope in silence, both sets of boots leaving shallow prints in the snow. Siuan’s breath puffed out in small clouds, hanging briefly in the still air before vanishing. She couldn’t help sneaking the occasional sidelong glance at Moiraine, who moved with a grace that didn’t belong out here. It left Siuan wondering - not for the first time - how much of her royal past still clung to her under all that calm, quiet surface.

At the bottom of the hill, the creek shimmered in the pale morning light. Siuan hopped onto a flat rock, her boots slipping slightly on the frost before she steadied herself. She dunked her bucket into the icy water, the sound of it sloshing loud in the quiet. The huntress crouched beside her, mirroring her movements. 

“So,” Moiraine said after a moment. “I assume proving I can handle chores isn’t all that’s planned for me. Or does Gareth intend to keep me scrubbing dishes and hauling supplies for the rest of my stay?”

Siuan chuckled lowly. “Oh, he’ll have you doin’ a lil’ bit of everythin’, that’s for sure. Y’know… cleanin’ guns, tendin’ to the horses, maybe even some lookout duty. And sooner or later, he’ll wanna see if you’re really that good at trackin’ - game or rumors.”

At that, she noticed the delicate shift in Moiraine’s posture. Her bucket dipped slightly, water spilling over the edge as her body stiffened. A quick glance over her shoulder followed, her eyes scanning the tree line like she expected someone to step out of the shadows.

Not missing the tell, Siuan drew in a breath and lowered her voice. “Hey, settle down, there,” she said, the teasing gone. “I’m in charge of the search parties. If I catch so much as a whiff of anythin’ that smells wrong, you’ll be the first to know. I got it handled, Moiraine. No surprises.”  

They locked eyes, the tension between them palpable, though neither dared to say aloud what was at stake. A look around confirmed they were still alone. Siuan reached out and brushed her fingers lightly over Moiraine’s hand. The whole contact lasted half a heartbeat, but she hoped it might quiet the sudden storm in those clear blue eyes. 

It worked, mostly. The tension in Moiraine’s face eased, though her gaze dropped, and a faint flush crept over her cheeks. Whether it was from the cold, the sudden panic, or that tiny spark of closeness, Siuan couldn’t say for sure. 

The huntress swallowed visibly, a nervous habit Siuan had picked up on lately. “We…” she began, gently pulling away. “Let’s get this water back.” 

“Right.“ Siuan nodded and stood, hefting the bucket. “Don’t want the boss thinkin’ we’re slackin’ off.”

As they made their way back up the slope, Siuan let herself glance at Moiraine one last time, the morning light catching on her face. Even with the shadows of worry tugging at her features, there was something unshakable about her - something that made Siuan wonder how much longer she could keep herself from reaching out again.

By the time they reached camp, the place had shaken itself fully awake; dishes clattered, voices tangled in a mesh of barking orders and half-awake grumbling.

Thom, as usual, was doing the least work and enjoying himself the most. Sprawled against a stack of crates, he tipped his hat at Moiraine with a lazy grin. “Careful now, missy,” he called out, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Spill that bucket, and my coffee mug’s gonna die of loneliness. Just as I am.”

The huntress gave him a polite nod, the kind that wasn’t much more than a formality.  Siuan didn’t bother to hide the slight shift in her stance, the angle of her body a quiet warning that anyone messing with the newcomer would answer to her.

Not far off, Alanna leaned against a weather-beaten post, arms crossed as she eyed the buckets in Moiraine’s hands. “Better you than me, honey. I’d sooner wrestle a wildcat than haul water at daybreak.” A dramatic groan spilled out of her. “Word to the wise: Siuan’s likely to work you like a mule if you give her half a chance.”

“Ah, shut your trap, Alanna,” Siuan fired back, though the grin pulling at her mouth softened the blow. “I’m real tender about folks’ precious backbones, don’t you know.” 

Alanna tossed her hair with a mocking sing-song, “Oh, of course you are, sunshine. That’s why I just adore you.”

A prickling warmth climbed the back of Siuan’s neck. That woman had a tongue on her that could set the entire camp whispering before most folks were even out of their bedrolls. A quick glance told her Moiraine wasn’t giving away anything, not a flicker beyond that calm, measured aura. Still, Siuan had no doubt she was quietly taking note of every detail for future reference. 

After breakfast, the day whooshed by in a flurry of even more chores. The huntress slipped into the routine without fuss, gathering firewood as though she’d spent her whole life combing forest floors for kindling - which, in a way, she probably had. Siuan watched her from a distance, noting how Moiraine would pause, survey a branch, then either toss it aside or tuck it under her arm. Later, the newcomer moved on to tending horses. Siuan’s heart gave an odd twist each time she glimpsed Moiraine murmuring to the animals in that soft, soothing way like they were old friends.

By mid-afternoon, the boss decided it was high time to test Moiraine’s aim. Siuan had seen it coming, it was only a matter of time.

A handful of gang members wandered over to watch, their curiosity pulling them to the edge of the pines. Lan was there, along with Alanna, Thom, and a couple of others, all eager to see if the newcomer’s reputation held any weight.

A row of dented tin cans lay perched on stones, with a few more strung from low-hanging branches. Siuan stayed close, her voice low as she offered quiet pointers. “Try aimin’ just a hair lower than you reckon,” she murmured, “or you’ll send the bullet sailin’ high.”

Moiraine turned her head slightly, just enough for Siuan to catch the flicker of a challenge in her eyes. Without a word, she squared her shoulders, raised the revolver, and fired. The first can spun off its perch with a sharp clang.

“Nice shot,” Siuan muttered, fighting off the grin tugging at her lips. 

From the sidelines, Gareth gave a single nod of approval. “Not too shabby,” he said. “Go on, then.”

Five more shots rang out in quick succession, each one striking metal or punching dead-center through a target. Silence hovered when Moiraine finally lowered the gun, as though everyone needed a second to register how neatly she’d done it. Siuan crossed her arms, swallowing the surge of pride she was careful not to show too plainly.

Gareth ambled nearer, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. “That’s fine shootin’,” he remarked, eyeing the huntress up and down. “Let’s hope it holds steady if we ever need more’n target practice.” He shot Siuan a look, half warning, half compliment. 

Moiraine didn’t brag or posture. She gave a polite tilt of her head, her posture as crisp as her response. “Thank you,” she said plainly. “I’ll do my best.” 

By dusk, the camp finally breathed out a collective long sigh. Every chore had wound down, leaving the air fragrant with corn chowder and woodsmoke. The biggest fire in the center crackled fiercely, drawing the gang around it in a loose circle while a bottle of whiskey made its rounds. Supper wouldn’t be long now, but folks were more than happy to fill the wait with talk and laughter.

Siuan lingered on the outskirts, scanning the faces for Moiraine. Didn’t take her long to spot her - same place as always lately, off to one side with Lan. The two stood close, speaking in hushed tones as the flames danced shadows across their features. Whatever Lan whispered had Moiraine smiling, a brief, private moment between the two. 

Siuan realized she was tapping her foot, the anxious staccato echoing through her boot. She tore her gaze away, pretending to fuss with her knife, rubbing at a nonexistent smear on the blade. Still, the sight of Lan leaning in close wouldn’t quit haunting the back of her eyes. She’d known the man for years and never seen him so… engaged, so attentive. 

Why now? Why Moiraine? 

“Those two look chummy, don’t they?” Thom’s low drawl cut into her thoughts. He strolled up behind her, smirking. “Didn’t figure old Lanny boy had quite that much to say, but I reckon all it takes is a pretty face to open his mouth.” 

Siuan’s eyes stayed pinned on the blade. “Ain’t no law against folks talkin’, last I checked.”  

Thom chuckled, the sound as smug as it was irritating. “Sure, no law against it. But you’re not blind. Can’t tell me you don’t see the way he’s eyein’ her.”

That sour twist in Siuan’s gut flared up again, though she worked to keep her tone as flat as she could manage. “They’re just talkin’, Merillin. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Mmm.” He dragged the sound out, the smirk on his face widening. “Maybe. But it sure looks like the kinda talk laced with subtext. Let’s face it - mystery woman in camp, easy on the eyes… who wouldn’t be tempted?”

Siuan’s grip on the knife handle went white-knuckled. “Watch it, Thom,” she growled. “She ain’t here for anyone’s entertainment.”

“Hey, hey,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just sayin’… maybe Lan ain’t the only one feelin’ a pull. And hell, can you blame her if she’s enjoyin’ his company, too? Lonely years in the wild will make anyone crave a little… company.”

Siuan’s chest coiled tight with anger, the words striking something raw. She opened her mouth, ready to let him have it, but a firm voice cut them off.

“Leave it, Thom.”

The man himself pivoted, eyebrows arched, and his grin widened when he saw who had spoken. “Ah, Lan,” Thom said, oozing mockery. “Didn’t mean to drag you away from your fireside rendezvous. Unless, of course, you’re wantin’ me to step in for you?”

Lan’s expression barely shifted. “You heard me. Move along. The gang’s hungry, and you’re on kitchen duty.” 

Thom huffed, feigning an air of wounded pride, before sauntering off at a snail’s pace. He shot Siuan one last teasing wink as he went, and she clenched her jaw, tamping down the urge to lob a boot at his backside.

Once his footsteps faded, Lan turned and settled beside her. She tried to hide the way anger still pulsed behind her ribs, but her eyes must have given her away. She inclined her head in stiff acknowledgment, half-hoping Lan wouldn’t see how rattled she felt.

“She’s a good catch.”

The words hit her like a splash of cold water, and Siuan’s head whipped toward him. “What?”

“Moiraine,” he said, nodding toward where the huntress had stood earlier. “Good aim. Cool nerves. I saw her shooting practice with you and Gareth.”

A knot twisted tight in Siuan’s chest, the kind that sat heavy and didn’t budge no matter how deep you tried to breathe. She shrugged, or tried to. It felt more like her shoulder just gave a twitch. “And?”

“And she’s… different,” he added thoughtfully, his eyes tracking the direction Moiraine had gone, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle.

“That a bad thing?” 

The man’s broad shoulders rose and fell in an unhurried shrug. “No. Not necessarily.” A beat passed, and his eyes slid back to Siuan’s. “You care about her, a lot.”

Siuan’s heart skipped in her chest, pulse fluttering faster. She shot him a hard look, voice grittier than she’d meant it to be. “What are you gettin’ at?”

“You’re different with her,” Lan went on, his tone neither accusing nor kind, just factual, as if he were pointing out the direction of the wind. “More guarded. Serious. But there’s a… softness in there, too. Like it matters what she thinks.”

Siuan’s jaw tightened, her mouth suddenly dry. She wanted to laugh it off, to say something sharp and easy that would shove this whole damn conversation into the dirt. Instead, what came out was something else entirely. 

“And what about you, Lan?” she snapped, but she couldn’t quite stop the words once they started. “What’s with you two whisperin’ all cozy by the fire every night? Folks are already talkin’.”

She could practically taste the jealousy in her own words now, hated how it made her sound. Lan wasn’t even the problem. He was a good man, a good friend. And Moiraine… well, Moiraine wasn’t hers to claim, no matter how badly she wanted to think otherwise.

Lan didn’t even blink. He just stared at her with that quiet, unshakable patience of his, the kind that made her feel like a fool for even trying to rile him. “I’m not stirrin’ gossip,” he said evenly. “She just seemed like she could use another friend.” A pause. “Besides you, of course.”

The heat in Siuan’s face burned hotter, and she dropped her gaze to the ground. “Sorry,” she mumbled, trying not to choke on the word. “I just don’t want her swarmed by half the camp like she’s fresh pickings.” 

Lan breathed out a low sigh. “You know me better than that, Siuan. I’m not here to add to any swarm.” He paused, then his voice softened. “If anything, I thought you’d be happy someone else was watching her back, help her settle in. You can’t be everywhere at once.”

Guilt. Shame. They rolled through her in an ugly tangle, twisting her insides tight until she felt mortifyingly foolish. Siuan’s hands clenched at her sides, the leather of her gloves creaking faintly under the pressure. She loosened them, then clenched again, the restless motion betraying everything she didn’t want to say out loud. “I’m… It’s just…” But the words wouldn’t come.

Lan didn’t push, didn’t press her to say more. He let the silence linger for a beat before speaking again. “Anyway,” he said, his gaze sliding briefly toward her shared tent with Moiraine, “stay sharp. You know how Gareth feels about… attachments.“

Another prick of fire scorched its way up her neck, and Siuan had the awful feeling she might actually burn alive from all this damn emotion. “I ain’t attached,” she snapped, her voice breaking free too fast, too loud, too raw. “I’m just lookin’ out for her.”

The silence that followed was worse than anything Lan could’ve said. His face didn’t change much, but his eyebrows lifted just enough to say he wasn’t entirely buying it. “Be careful all the same,” he said, and with that, he stood and drifted off into camp, leaving Siuan’s pulse thrumming in her ears. 

She inhaled shakily, trying to tame the wild swing of her emotions. Damn it, was she that obvious? The very idea made her stomach turn. If Lan could see it, how long before Gareth started sniffing around? The thought of him catching wind of her feelings sent a fresh jolt of panic up her spine. She ran a hand through her curls, rough enough to tug. She had to get a grip, bury all this down deep where it couldn’t show.

When dinnertime finally came, the gang gathered around the main fire. Siuan found a spot across from Moiraine, who ended up flanked by Alanna, Ivhon and Maksim. Their playful jabs at each other had the whole circle chuckling, and even Moiraine wore a small, entertained smile.  

Thom and Ryma circled with more chowder and steaming cups of bitter tea. Thom’s grin turned cocky the instant he reached Moiraine. “Save me a seat, won’t ya?” he drawled, tipping his head at the empty space beside her. “Figure it’s high time we got better acquainted.” 

Moiraine stirred her chowder with deliberate slowness, not even looking up. “I wasn’t aware sitting next to someone guaranteed acquaintance.”

The circle chuckled, but Thom wasn’t fazed. “Just sayin’… we oughta be friendly. Like you and Lan.” He leaned in slightly, his tone dripping with suggestion. “Been a while since this camp had a new face as charmin’ as yours. Brightens the damn place right up.”

Alanna, never one to let attention waltz past her, cut off her banter with Maksim and made a theatrical show of offense. “Excuse me? I’ve been this gang’s resident jewel from day one, you weasel.” 

The group roared with laughter - most of them, anyway. Siuan wasn’t in the mood for it. She caught the way Thom leaned closer to Moiraine, the smug tilt of his grin, and finally, something inside her snapped. Next thing she knew, she was on her feet, boots grinding into the frozen earth as she closed the distance.

“You’ve been warned, jackass,” she barked, words slicing clean through the circle’s easy chatter. 

Everything went still. 

The gang, mid-laughter, fell silent in a heartbeat, eyes flicking between Thom and Siuan like they were sensing a fight. Heat prickled up Siuan’s cheeks, but she held her ground, not once taking her glare off Thom. 

He turned with a flicker of surprise, but a devilish grin soon replaced it. “What’s this about, Sanche? Thought you were all about keepin’ the peace.” 

Siuan stepped between him and Moiraine, planting herself like a fencepost. “Keepin’ the peace doesn’t mean sittin’ quiet while you run your damn fool mouth.”

The words tore out sharper than she intended, but she didn’t care. She didn’t fully understand her own reaction, except that the idea of Thom cozying up to Moiraine made her grit her teeth. Whether it was out of jealousy, protectiveness, or sheer irritation, she couldn’t say. Maybe it was all three. 

The man’s grin thinned, though he tried to keep it in place. “Easy there, cowgirl. Ain’t no harm in a little conversation.” He flicked a glance at Moiraine, like he dared her to contradict him.

Siuan’s stance stayed rigid. “I said back off.” 

For an instant, the circle hovered in that charged hush. Then Thom exhaled through his nose. “Alright, alright,” he replied, voice dripping sarcasm. “No need for a showdown.” He started to back away, throwing a grin at Moiraine. “Ain’t that somethin’, Miss Huntress? Got yourself quite the guard dog.” 

Siuan ignored his jab, forcing her focus inward to clamp down on the anger boiling in her veins. At the edges of the firelight, some of the gang watched with wide eyes, while others cautiously returned to their food. Alanna’s eyebrow nearly reached her hairline, but she held her tongue - barely. 

When Thom finally disappeared, Siuan turned to Moiraine, aware of the scrutiny boring into her from all sides. But the moment she saw Moiraine’s tight grip on her spoon, a prickle of regret jabbed at her chest. Her knuckles were white where they curled around the handle, and Siuan reckoned the attention was probably the last thing the woman had wanted.

Siuan exhaled through her nose, guilt creeping into the space anger had left behind. “Sorry ‘bout him,” she muttered, lowering herself onto the log beside her.

Moiraine’s reply came quietly, pitched so the rest of the camp wouldn’t hear. “I didn’t need you to do that.”

These words weren’t exactly what Siuan had expected… and they hit like a slap. “I-“ She fumbled for a response. “I just wanted to keep him from gettin’ any bright ideas.” 

Moiraine pressed her lips together, expression shadowed with something closer to disappointment than gratitude. “I can handle myself.” 

Siuan’s mouth went dry. She knew that was true. Hell, she’d seen firsthand how capable Moiraine was. But hearing it out loud, with that undercurrent of disappointment, stung more than she wanted to admit. “Yeah, I know,” she said quickly, almost tripping over the words. “But with the rumors flyin’ around, I figured-“

“Right,” Moiraine interrupted with a scoff, her spoon pausing mid-stir. “The rumors.”

The way she said it made Siuan blink. There was something in her tone, a subtle sharpness Siuan couldn’t quite pin down. Moiraine wasn’t the type to mince words, but Siuan couldn’t wrap her head around why she sounded… upset?

Siuan frowned. She was aware of the sudden tension hanging between them, but hell if she knew why and what to do with it. “I’m just makin’ sure things go smooth. You’ve got a lotta eyes on you, if you haven’t noticed… But I reckon you have.”

The huntress didn’t answer, only stirred the chowder in her bowl, her appetite seemingly elsewhere. Whatever was going on behind those mysterious eyes, she kept it locked away. After a brittle pause that lasted two beats, maybe three, Moiraine stood.

“Good night, Siuan,” she said, her tone neutral, offering nothing more.

Siuan opened her mouth, a thousand words rushing forward, but none of them made it past her tongue. She watched helplessly as Moiraine disappeared into the shadows beyond the firelight, leaving her sitting there like a fool.

“Trouble in paradise, huh?” 

The voice made her flinch. Spinning around, she found Alanna, tea cupped in both hands, wearing a smirk like she’d just sniffed out a juicy secret. 

Of course, she’d stick her nose in. 

Siuan set her jaw. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ’bout.”

Alanna let out a soft laugh. “Oh, sunshine, I think you do. You bring this stranger in, you vouch for her like you trust her more than you trust half the folks here, and now you’re ready to throw hands just ‘cause Thom can’t keep his mouth shut? You’re actin’ like she can’t swat a fly on her own. It’s sweet, really.” 

Scowling, Siuan crossed her arms, heat pooling in her cheeks. “Ain’t nothin’ sweet about it. Yeah, I vouched for her, so I’m watchin’ her back. End of story.”

Alanna raised a knowing eyebrow, taking a slow sip of her tea. “But you do realize Moiraine’s a big girl, don’t you? Could be she doesn’t want - or need - anybody else steerin’ her fights?” A delicate shrug. “Just a thought.”

Siuan’s jaw worked, but no decent retort came to mind. She hated how Alanna’s words settled like an itch she couldn’t scratch. Finally, she muttered, “I gotta go,” and stalked off before the woman could poke her any further.

As she made her way across camp, her eyes couldn’t help but flick toward the line of tents where Moiraine had vanished. She hated not knowing why the huntress was angry. Hated not knowing how to fix it. But most of all, she hated the realization that for all her good intentions, her protectiveness wasn’t doing Moiraine any favors. It wasn’t smoothing the ground ahead of her. It was trampling it flat.

“Get a grip, Sanche!”

Chapter Text

Siuan woke in the dim gray before dawn. The inside of the tent felt like a frostbitten tomb that day, the kind of chill that made you think twice about sticking so much as a finger out from under the warm blankets. She gritted her teeth, half-tempted to just stay buried under those covers until the sun was blazing high. 

Still, she forced one arm free, bracing against the chill that gnawed straight to the bone. Winter wasn’t gentle to begin with, but today looked to be one of its meaner moods.

She rolled her head to the side and caught sight of Moiraine’s silhouette. The huntress was curled away, arms drawn in tight, and back turned like she wanted the world to leave her well enough alone. 

Last night, Siuan had come into the tent to find her in the same exact position, stiff-backed and suspiciously quiet. Part of Siuan had wanted to prod the woman’s shoulder right then and there, force some sort of conversation. But doubt - and a heaping dose of embarrassment - had held her back.

Her mind drifted back to last night’s fiasco around the dinner fire. Thom had been running his mouth again, and before Siuan could stop herself, she’d laid into him, sharp and loud enough to turn heads. She’d snapped, no question about it, made a real show she couldn’t rightly explain. Maybe the only real reason was that she simply couldn’t stand his big-headed antics. But if she was being honest with herself, she knew her feelings ran deeper than that. 

The worst thing was that Moiraine had caught every second of it, had been dragged under the spotlight - unwillingly. Siuan hated that she’d stepped on Moiraine’s toes, but she equally hated how her own chest had felt squeezed by something she was only just starting to recognize… Thom’s wandering eye and slick comments aimed at the huntress had made her blood boil.

Siuan ground a fist into the bedding. “Idiot,” she cursed silently, though she wasn’t sure who she meant by that - Thom or herself. Probably both.

Lying there, she studied the line of Moiraine’s shoulders, guessing whether the other woman was still angry… or upset… or disappointed… or whatever it was that had produced that clipped, sharp tone in her voice. Siuan couldn’t quite pin it down.

She cast her glance away, chewing on her bottom lip.

Maybe it was a bad idea. In fact, it almost certainly was. But lying here, tangling herself in regrets, wasn’t fixing a damn thing. Siuan might not be the smoothest talker - gods, no - but she cared more than she’d ever cared for her own hide, and so she had to try to put things right. She’d make Moiraine see she wasn’t trying to take her autonomy, or whatever she thought Siuan was doing.

Her determination solidified. “Moiraine?”

At first, only silence.

Siuan almost thought she’d imagined the faint twitch of Moiraine’s shoulder. Still, she pressed on, gently tapping an elbow to her back. “Moiraine, are you awake?”

For a long breath, it seemed like the huntress might not react - or was just dead set on ignoring her. S iuan half-expected her to shift away, to curl tighter into that private fortress of pillows and blankets. But then the stillness broke, and Moiraine turned her head.

She stirred, blinking the remnants of sleep from her eyes. “Yes,” she mumbled, evidently still finding her bearing. “I’m awake now. What’s going on?”

Siuan shifted and suddenly fumbled for the right words. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. “I… uh… was thinkin’ we… we could get a jump on the day. Y’know, head out and go ice fishin’.”

Moiraine blinked again, slower this time, her brow knitting ever so slightly. It wasn’t a sharp look, more like she was trying to decipher whether she was already fully awake or still dreaming. “Fishing? At this hour?”

Siuan tried to keep her drawl gentle. “Best time for it. Plus, it’d be just you and me, ‘fore the rest crawls outta their bedrolls. Might even catch some breakfast if luck’s smilin’ on us.” She cleared her throat, feeling unreasonably nervous. “What d’you say?”

Siuan could already see the rejection coming - Moiraine sighing, sinking back into those warm blankets, shutting her eyes against the cold and the suggestion alike. She wouldn’t blame her. It was too early, it was too damn cold, and frankly, ice fishing wasn’t most people’s idea of winter leisure to begin with.

“ Yeah, dumb idea, Sanche, ” she thought to herself, already preparing to backtrack when… 

“Alright, I’ll go. Let me get dressed.” Moiraine exhaled softly, shifting as she sat up, her hand brushing a loose strand of dark hair from her sleepy face.

Siuan’s relief tripped over her eagerness, and she nearly tangled herself in her blankets trying to get up in a haste. “Sure thing.” She tugged on thick trousers, wrestled into a fleece shirt, and crammed her feet into two pairs of socks before stuffing them in sturdy boots. By the time she wriggled into her coat, she was fully jittery with anticipation. “I’ll wait outside, take your time.”

With that, she stepped into a world still painted with shadows, where the night sky was just starting to soften from pitch-black to the barest hint of purple. Outside the tent, the air was even crisper, biting at her cheeks and nose, and turning her breath into small clouds. Letting out a low whistle - damn, was it freezing! - she made quick work of collecting her fishing gear; two simple rods, a tin of stale bread for bait, a hunting knife for cracking ice if she needed to.

Of course, it wasn’t just about fishing. Actually, it wasn’t about fishing at all. Siuan knew it, and she reckoned Moiraine probably did, too. All she needed was a handful of hours free from curious eyes, free from Gareth, Thom, Alanna, or even Lan. Maybe that would let them hash out last night’s trouble without all the extra noise. 

The crunch of boots on frozen ground drew her attention. She turned to see the huntress stepping out of the tent, her winter coat snug and her dark hair loosely tied back. Even at this early hour, she looked composed, like the cold was no more than a mild inconvenience. “I’m ready,” she said simply.

Siuan tipped her head in a silent gesture toward her horse and managed a crooked grin. “Alrighty, then let’s roll out.”

They mounted up, and for a moment, the weight on Siuan’s chest eased a fraction when she could feel Moiraine’s quiet presence at her back. As they rode beyond the camp’s perimeter, the sky started to turn from ink-blue to a pearly gray. A fresh coat of frost clung to every branch in the forest, glittering like tiny shards of crystal in the first hints of dawn.

After a mile or so, Siuan cleared her throat, half-turning in the saddle to start some sort of conversation. “Don’t often go fishin’ in the dead of winter,” she admitted, noticing how her breath curled and vanished in the cold. “But I figured we could use some quiet. No extra company, no extra ears.”

The huntress answered with a nod. “That’s a good idea. I could do with a little less chatter these days.”

They let quiet settle again, though it felt a shade more comfortable this time. The hush or early morning was strangely intimate, a kind of solitary blessing that Siuan hoped would last long enough for them to say whatever needed sorting out.

By the time they reached the secluded pond, the world was bathed in a pale, wintry glow. Wisps of morning mist hovered near the water, and a light breeze stirred the pines that ringed the shore. It felt isolated from the rest of the world - safe, in a way the camp was not. Siuan had been counting on this isolation to encourage a talk, hoping Moiraine might open up once they were well clear of the gang.

She dismounted first, turned, and held out a gloved hand to help the huntress down. The other woman eyed the offered hand for a moment before accepting it, a fleeting contact that was enough to make Siuan’s heart beat a little faster. The next instant, Moiraine released her grip, expression as neutral as ever. “Thanks,” she murmured.

Siuan cleared her throat, feigning a gruffness she hoped would hide her sudden flush. “Sure,” she managed, then busied herself gathering the fishing equipment. “Let’s see what we’re dealin’ with. Need a hole in that ice, or we’ll be standin’ here catchin’ nothin’ but our own frostbite.”

She edged up to the pond and gave the ice a measured stomp. If it cracked beneath them, they’d be in for a real nasty dip.

“Seems solid,” she said. “Likely got a good few inches of ice. Oughta do.” She crouched low, using the butt of her hunting knife to start chipping a hole.

Moiraine stood nearby, arms folded for warmth or because of boredom. Either way, she didn’t complain, but neither did she volunteer conversation. Her expression was coolly unreadable but something in her taut posture spoke of private thoughts she didn’t seem keen to share.

Siuan decided to bridge the quiet. “I come here when my head’s too cluttered,” she explained. “Different kind of fishin’ than what I grew up with, sure, but it calms me down all the same. Somethin’ about the quiet and waitin’.”

Moiraine sent a glance toward the frozen water. “I never realized you were still carrying that fishergirl spirit around.”

A small laugh escaped Siuan. “You can take the girl outta the boat, but not the boat outta the girl, I guess.”

With a decent hole finally chipped, Siuan fetched the rods and line from her saddlebag, along with the little tin holding the leftover bits of bread. She handed one of the rods to Moiraine, who eyed it carefully before accepting.

“Guessin’ you’re not a big fan of fishin’?” Siuan said, mostly to keep conversation rolling. 

Moiraine’s mouth quirked, though she didn’t quite smile. “I’ve done it before. Under… different circumstances,” she said. “Warmer ones, to be sure.”

Siuan bit back the urge to pry and just nodded instead. “Fair enough. Let’s see if we can catch ourselves some breakfast ‘fore our fingers freeze clean off.”

She readied her line, hooking the stale bread with quick, sure motions. “Now, the trick with ice fishin’ is to keep the line from freezin’ in place,” she explained, demonstrating a gentle tug in slow intervals. “Give it a slow pull now and then so it doesn’t turn into an icicle.”

Moiraine watched, her expression quiet but not entirely aloof. “I’ll heed your expertise,” she said, her tone so measured that Siuan couldn’t quite tell if she was teasing. “I’m guessing that’s from hard-earned experience?”

“You could say that,” Siuan replied easily. Her eyes flicked over the other woman‘s face, so beautifully lit in the pale blue reflections from the ice below that Siuan momentarily forgot how cold her own cheeks felt.

Silence fell between them then, but it wasn’t the awkward sort. The wind sighed through the pines, the ice creaked softly beneath their boots, and a slip of sun finally broke through the clouds. Every frosted needle on the trees caught that glint of light, and for just a moment, it felt like they stood in a world made of shimmering crystal.

Siuan shifted her fishing rod, the line arching over dark water, though her attention wasn’t on catching breakfast so much as on the quiet figure next to her.

“I don’t needed defending.”

The sudden statement set her heart thumping, and she glanced up, blinking as though shaken from a spell. “Huh?” She reeled in a bit of line, more from reflex than any real catch.

Moiraine’s eyes stayed pinned to the dark swirl of water. “Last night, with Thom. You warned him off because you thought I needed defending.”

Siuan worked her jaw, suddenly unsure of her own words. ”I- I just… he was outta line. I just wanted him to back off. Don’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”

Moiraine’s lips curved in a faint, wry smile. “It didn’t escape me that you worried about Lan, too.” A brittle wind teased her dark hair, but she didn’t move. “I want you to know - you’re wasting your concern. I’m not interested.”

Siuan frowned, not sure she was fully following, but before she could say something, the huntress pressed on. 

“Thom, Lan… the men in the gang,” Moiraine clarified. “You assumed I wanted something from them, that the rumors flying around had a shred of truth. Didn’t you?”

The question jolted Siuan, and she nearly lost hold of her rod. She let out a rough exhale, and glance sideways at Moiraine, unsure if she was supposed to say something or just let her go on. She hadn’t fully realized the huntress had pieced together her jealousy - or recognized it for exactly what it was. 

“Well… I guess I just thought-”

“That I’d need saving from any flirtatious nonsense?” Moiraine cut in, turning to face her fully. “Or that I’d even want this kind of attention to begin with?” She didn’t sound angry, not exactly, but there was a firm weight to her words, like she was tired of assumptions.

Siuan winced internally, heat creeping up the back of her neck. “Didn’t mean it like that,” she grumbled, gaze ducking. “Just thought I was helpin’. You’re… well, you’re a looker. The way you stand so straight, talk so refined… they see that. You’re like a shiny target to ‘em and I… I don’t like how they treat you - like you’re some kind of trophy to be won. Ain’t fair. You’re more than that, y’know? And they don’t… they don’t know you like-“ 

She hesitated, clamping her mouth shut as she realized she shouldn’t keep talking, shouldn’t spill everything. She glanced at the huntress, trying to gauge her reaction. 

Moiraine’s cheeks blushed slightly, and she quickly pretended to fiddle with the line. The motion looked more like a distraction than necessity, though. Well, it almost certainly was - Siuan, of all people, would be able to tell. 

“I appreciate what you’re saying,” Moiraine said quietly after a beat. “There’s something about your honesty.” A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, barely there but unmistakable. “You’re blunt sometimes, Siuan. But you don’t pretend to be anything you’re not. That’s… refreshing.”

Siuan laugh came out like a huff, a little too self-deprecating for her liking. “Well, only got so many hours in a day, figure I might as well be me.”

The huntress watched her a moment, then exhaled, releasing a thin cloud of steam into the cold air. “I do realize you meant well,” she murmued, shoulders easing a fraction. “But you’ll find there’s nothing any man could offer that I’d want. I find Thom’s attentions… uncomfortable, but I can manage him myself.”

As if she were trying to explain something bigger, something wider, Moiraine took half a breath and added, “As for Lan, he’s very kind, but he’s not trying to… you know… win me over.”

“I… yeah… guess that’s good to hear,” Siuan muttered, unable to look Moiraine in the eye. She felt foolish all over again, like she’d bungled something she should have seen all along. She stared down at her boots, wishing the ice might crack open to hide her. “Sorry, I… hell, I didn’t mean to come off like some jealous fool….”

“It’s alright.” Moiraine’s tone turned gentler. “I simply wanted you to understand. Being with a man - it’s never felt…,” she hesitated, eyes flicking down before her chin lifted slightly. “It’s never something I truly wanted. More like an expectation, not a choice.”

Siuan’s chest twisted, an odd mix of relief, curiosity, and a flicker of hope all tangled in her chest. “So,” she began slowly, “you’re sayin’ you don’t like men? Any of ’em?”

A flicker of vulnerability ghosted over Moiraine’s face, there for a second and then gone. ”No. I never have.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “In truth, I’ve never had much interest in any person before… not in the way everyone assumes.”

Siuan just stood there, the fishing line slack in her fingers, uncertain whether to whoop in triumph or fret over what this revelation might mean. Her mind split clean in two - one part fighting the urge to stomp a jig right there on the ice because no man could ever steal Moiraine from her. Another part of her was terrified - what if this conversation ended in heartbreak?

She nodded slowly, her thoughts racing to piece together the puzzle of this new landscape between them. “Right,” she murmured finally. “Guess that clears that up.”

She hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek, but the words clawed their way out anyway, raw and tentative. “But… does that mean you might be interested in someone else? Someone who isn’t a man? In that way?”

The silence that followed was the kind that made seconds feel like hours. Then, as if bracing for something monumental, Moiraine squared her shoulders. 

“I am.”

Siuan blinked, her breath stalling in her chest, but Moiraine wasn’t finished.

“I am interested in you, Siuan.” She met her gaze squarely. “In that a way. I thought I had been obvious about it.“ 

The words stopped Siuan’s heart for a moment, like everything in her world had shifted an inch. She stood there, her breath freezing in the air, while Moiraine let her fishing rod drop to the ice and moved a step closer. For the first time, neither looked away. It was as if a barrier had cracked, and both realized what lay on the other side.

“I-“ Moiraine’s voice wobbled just the tiniest bit. “I think I’d like us to be something more. If you want that, too?”

Siuan’s cheeks felt ablaze, the cold not mattering a damn.

This moment. It was like being handed the world and being told it was yours - but not in the way you thought it would happen, not in the way you pictured. The question wasn’t flashy or grand, but it wasn’t casual either. Hell, she’d dreamed about it, hadn’t she? She’d wanted it more than she cared to admit.

”You mean… you and me…,” she managed, barely able to force the words out.

Moiraine nodded. “Yes, you and me,” she said softly. “I want to be with you, Siuan. No one else. No matter what your answer is, I needed you to know that.”

Siuan’s breath escaped in a quiet shudder. Then, a shaky laugh slipped from her throat, somehow unbidden, messy, but full of a happiness she hadn’t felt in years. It almost startled her, the sound of it, as if it didn’t belong to her anymore.

“Well, ain’t this somethin’,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else, a grin stealing across her face. She glanced down where their hands nearly touched. “I’d… I’d want that, too, yeah. You… us…”

She trailed off, but the words didn’t seem to matter anymore. Moiraine didn’t wait for any more of them.

Instead, her hand rose with quiet certainty, her fingers curling gently into the front of Siuan’s coat, pulling her closer and leaning in for a tender kiss.

Siuan couldn’t tell if the tremor running down her spine came from the frigid air or the blaze of emotion flaring up inside her. Either way, she pressed deeper into the kiss, chasing every bit of warmth she could find against Moiraine’s lips.

She deepened the kiss, sliding one hand around the other woman’s waist, the thick winter coat preventing her from fully feeling Moiraine’s shape but offering a sense of closeness nonetheless. Moiraine’s fingers traced along Siuan’s collar, sliding upward until they curled around the back of her neck. With every brush of their lips, the tension that had knotted inside Siuan slowly unraveled, replaced by a rush of raw tenderness.

Moiraine’s lips tasted oddly sweet, almost like mint tea with honey. Or maybe it was just the sharpness of winter. Siuan couldn’t be sure but she drank it in anyway, letting the world spin away until the only thing that mattered was this shared spark of life she had with Moiraine. The ice underfoot felt as if it might crack and drop them both into frigid water, but Siuan couldn’t bring herself to care as long as it meant she’d sink with Moiraine. 

Suddenly, their moment was shattered by a low rumble in the underbrush, like something stepping through the frost. Siuan instantly tensed, stepping in front of Moiraine out of habit, hand dipping to the hunting knife on her belt. 

She scanned the tree line, half expecting a prowling cougar or a wandering bandit, but only a  doe emerged, ears flicking uncertainly at the two humans. The deer’s large eyes stared for a second, then it bounded away, startled by the unfamiliar company on its territory.

Siuan exhaled, tension draining. She cast Moiraine a glance, her mouth pulling into a half-smirk. “Guess the forest decided to remind us we’re ain’t alone.” 

Moiraine’s lips curved in a smile. “We’ll need to be careful, even out here.”

It was supposed to be a joke, yes, but both women understood the truth behind these words - that no matter how sweet their words and kisses, the world wouldn’t let them forget the shadows they carried. Secrecy. The gang. Moiraine’s past - none of it disappeared just because the air between them had shifted.

Siuan sighed, the sound heavy with the kind of frustration that came from having to tuck away something too precious to risk exposing. She stepped back, letting her hand brush against Moiraine’s before her fingers slid over hers, curling for just a moment.

“Yeah, guess we’ll have to keep it under our hats,” she said, glancing down at their hands. “But damn it, I hate sneakin’ around. Hate the thought of keepin’ you at arm’s length.”

The huntress nodded, expression clouded. “I’ve been on the run for over twenty years. Secrets are practically my second nature.” She tilted her head slightly, her sad smile a thin veil over the deeper ache beneath, before she gave Siuan’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, we will,” Siuan said, bringing Moiraine’s gloved hand to her lips and planting a kiss across her knuckles.

After a stretch of silence, Siuan eased back, a short, self-conscious laugh bubbling out of her. “Guess we’re not doin’ much fishin’, are we?” She nodded toward their rods, abandoned on the ice. “Guess we’ll say the little devils weren’t bitin’. They’ll believe it, seein’ as how no one’s fool enough to fish in winter but me.”

“The day is still young,” Moiraine teased unexpectedly. Siuan caught the faintest flicker of intent in her eyes. Maybe she didn’t mind freezing a little longer if it meant stealing a bit more time for just the two of them.

Siuan grinned. “Alright, alright. Might as well see if we can coax a bite or two before headin’ back. Don’t want everyone thinkin’ we just went off on a lark.”

Moiraine nodded, eyes flicking to Siuan’s mouth once more before she bent to retrieve the fishing rod from the ground. 

They didn’t catch much. One little perch ended up wriggling on the hook, which Moiraine found strangely fascinating. She peered at the silver flash of scales, then politely turned away as Siuan handled the dispatch. Another nibble or two, and that was all the fish seemed willing to offer.

Siuan reckoned that was all right by her. The hush of the pines and the occasional brush of Moiraine’s gloved fingers were worth more than a whole pile of fish anyway.

Chapter Text

They’d returned from the fishing trip hours ago, slipping back into camp routine and acting as though nothing significant had happened between them.

Like they hadn’t stood by that secluded pond beneath the pines, breath curling in the morning chill, sorting through the mess of feelings between them. Like Moiraine hadn’t looked Siuan dead in the eye and asked for them to be something more. Like they hadn’t kissed tenderly right there in the frostbitten quiet.

No, everything back at camp was business as usual.

Siuan reckoned that was the safest way to go about it anyway. Cloak the truth behind routine and keep the prying eyes at bay. In a place like this, secrets were the best shield a soul could wield.

Normally, by this hour, she would’ve found something to grumble about; Gareth’s overblown sense of importance, Thom’s constant yammering, some fool scraping his plate too damn loud. But tonight, she felt… different. Lighter, maybe. Like something inside her had untangled itself.

Not that anyone else would notice. She kept to herself, let the day pass in a dusty blur, but it didn’t stop her from tracking Moiraine’s silhouette in the corners of her vision, like some damn spell she couldn’t break.

Supper was the same sorry affair as always. The stew they slapped together reeked of fish and over-boiled beets. Everyone ate in subdued conversation, trading rumors about the next big snowfall or whether the search parties would make it back on time.

Siuan didn’t have much to add. She mostly buried her face in her bowl, ate without fuss, and tossed Gareth a stiff nod whenever he barked her name.

Through it all, though, her attention kept snagging on the figure at the far edge of the firelight, draped in shadow and quiet watchfulness.

Moiraine. Moiraine. Moiraine.

Always on her damn mind.

So when she saw the huntress slip away from the fire later that evening, Siuan followed suit. Not right after, of course - that’d be stupid. Instead, she took the long route, ambling through camp with a lazy stride, hands hooked in her belt like she had all the time in the world. A casual gait was always better than looking like you had a purpose.

By the time she reached their tent, Moiraine was already inside. The canvas flap fell shut behind Siuan, and in the dim lantern glow, their eyes met - nothing bold, nothing obvious, but enough to send something restless tumbling through Siuan’s gut. For some reason, everything felt… different that day.

She shoved the feeling aside, rolling her shoulders as she slung her coat onto a hook. “Long day, huh,” she muttered, kicking off her boots with a practiced flick.

The huntress hummed in quiet agreement, fiddling with the lantern and adjusting the wick. The flame flared, casting their small space in shifting gold and blue. Siuan barely noticed, though, because in the next moment, Moiraine was pulling the pins from her hair, letting dark waves tumble loose around her face.

Her fingers worked a brush through those thick, inky strands, unwinding the tangles the day had left behind. Siuan didn’t mean to stare - hell, she tried not to. But watching Moiraine’s fingers disappear into all that silky dark hair, slow and methodical, had a way of stealing her focus.

Moiraine must have felt her looking, because she paused, eyebrow lifting playfully. “You watching me again?” she teased, though there was fondness in her voice.

Siuan huffed a grin. “Guess you caught me,” she admitted, settling onto the crate, elbows resting loose on her knees. “You keep brushin’ that hair so thorough and you’ll wear off its shine.”

Moiraine didn’t break her rhythm, but Siuan saw a flicker of amusement - there and gone. “And that’s your excuse for gawking instead of getting ready for bed?”

Siuan smirked, hands resuming their slow work on the buttons of her shirt. “Reckon I’m enjoyin’ the view,” she drawled. “Ain’t every day I get to sit back and watch a princess tend to her nightly rituals.”

At that, Moiraine went still. Not the kind of stillness that came with thought or hesitation, but the way an animal freezes in the brush, ears pricked for danger, breath drawn just enough to stay undetected.

Slowly, she set the brush down and turned her gaze toward the tent flap. “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, her tone suddenly clipped and cutting.

Siuan’s smirk faltered. She lowered her voice to match Moiraine’s caution. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” she murmured, her hands stilling against the half-unbuttoned fabric of her shirt. “Just teasin’. Ain’t no one here but us.”

But Moiraine didn’t lose that tight, wary stiffness in her posture.

Siuan exhaled slowly, considering, then let her voice drop even lower. “I know,” she whispered. “Your real name. Your title. What happens if the wrong folks find out…” Her gaze flicked to the tent flap, to the faint murmur of voices beyond. “I ain’t about to spill any secrets. Not yours, not… ours.” She hesitated, then made a small, awkward gesture between them.

A pause. A breath. Then, finally, the huntress exhaled, something in her posture loosening. Not gone, not erased, but… easier.

Neither of them spoke as they finished getting ready for bed. Siuan stripped off her shirt and trousers, pulling on a plain two-piece. Moiraine, too, changed into a simple gown, something modest, practical, unremarkable. It shouldn’t have meant anything, shouldn’t have made the air feel heavier or the tent feel smaller.

And yet, in the quiet between them, it did. It felt near intimate, like an invisible thread wound tight between them, pulling, tugging, fraying at the edges, ready to snap at any given moment.

As they settled in, a long moment passed before Moiraine’s gaze drifted to the dreamcatcher gently swaying above their bed.

She exhaled softly. “I’m sorry if I’m too cautious,” she murmured. “Trust still comes hard some days. It’s… frightening, all these new feelings inside me.”

Siuan turned and shifted closer, blankets rustling. She hesitated for half a beat before reaching for Moiraine’s hand, her rough fingers threading between finer ones.

“I get it,” she said, voice steady despite the way her heart kicked against her ribs. “But you got me, Moiraine. You’re safe with me, you know that. Always.”

Her gaze dropped to their joined hands. They fit together in a way that made her chest ache with a strange sweetness, like some missing piece finally clicking into place. She traced the lines of Moiraine’s palm, pausing where the pale scar cut across it. She’d seen it before, of course. She knew what it meant, what it tied them to. But this was the first time she truly looked.

Up close, it seemed softer somehow, almost delicate, though Siuan knew better. That scar was no delicate thing. It was a bond. A vow. An oath - a piece of shared history that spoke of trust and promise, written into flesh.

Without thinking, she brushed her fingertip along the mark in a slow, absent-minded caress, like she could recall the memory by touch alone.

The huntress inhaled sharply.

It was small, barely there, but Siuan caught it; the way her blue eyes widened for just a second, unguarded, raw. Like she wasn’t used to being touched like this. Like the idea of someone tracing that scar, treating it - and her - as something precious, was impossible to fathom.

Swallowing, Siuan pressed her palm over Moiraine’s, aligning their scars, holding them together in a wordless promise.

It said I’m here.

It said I meant what I said.

It said I will keep you safe. Forever.

The huntress held her breath through it all before finally exhaling. Then, slowly, her fingers curled, clasping around Siuan’s with a firm squeeze.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was a humming, electric sort of quiet, ready to be released at the slightest spark. It was the same feeling as that morning on the ice, only warmer, more certain… more urgent.

Siuan felt it before she really thought about it - how close they suddenly were, how the blankets tangled their legs together, how Moiraine’s breath ghosted against her cheek. And then Siuan did think about it, and hell if that didn’t make it worse.

“You’re trembling,” the huntress murmured, her voice a bit shaky, too.

Siuan huffed a breath; half a laugh, half a sigh. “Can’t help it. I…just…” She trailed off, swallowing hard. “Been wantin’ you this close for… hell, a long while now.”

Moiraine’s face softened. Her fingers trailed up, brushing against Siuan’s cheek, light, hesitant, but devastating all the same.

“Me too,” she whispered. “I was afraid we’d never have a chance. Or if we did, I’d be forced to run before we could even figure out what we are… how we fit.”

Siuan couldn’t stop herself. Couldn’t hold back a second longer.

She kissed her.

That touch of lips felt like the hush before a thunderstorm - trembling, crackling, a slow-building charge that promised to split the sky wide open. Moiraine sighed against her mouth, and that sound alone sent molten electricity surging through Siuan’s veins.

She deepened the kiss, little by little, savoring the way Moiraine responded, the way her lips parted so easily, like she was giving herself over to it. Like she was memorizing her. Like she was tasting something sweet and forbidden all at once.

Siuan’s hand drifted, skimming the curve of Moiraine’s waist, tracing the shape of her through the fabric of her nightgown. Her fingertips brushed over the sharp lines of her ribs, the lean muscle beneath, but she didn’t go further. Not yet. Not until-

The huntress shifted, pressed closer. Hips meeting, breath hitching, her body yielding against Siuan’s with an undeniable urgency that made her head spin.

They broke apart just long enough to gasp for air. Siuan’s eyes fluttered open to find Moiraine’s face flushed, her pupils blown wide, her breath shallow. There was this certain look on her face, this certain intent, and Siuan felt the goosebumps race over her arms at the notion of what it meant.

Moiraine wasn’t hesitating. She knew exactly where this was headed. And she was waiting for it.

Before Siuan could think too hard, the huntress leaned in again. This time, the kiss had a stronger pull to it - stronger, deeper, pulling her under. No more second-guessing, no more dancing around the edge.

Siuan welcomed it. Sank into it. Let herself fall.

She sighed into the kiss, her lips parting, welcoming Moiraine’s tongue, kissing her back with every bit of feeling she’d been holding onto for weeks - hell, months.

“Moiraine,” Siuan breathed, barely managing the word as their bodies practically melted together, heat pooling between them. “Everyone… knows we’re… we’re sharin’ this tent…”

“I know,” the huntress whispered, her lips brushing against Siuan’s jaw, hungrily. “We’ll be quiet.”

Siuan barely had a second to process that before their mouths crashed together again. The fire between them had been slow-burning for so damn long, and now, at last, it was catching.

Her hands moved of their own accord, roaming over Moiraine’s nightgown, tracing the delicate dips and curves of her body. When her palm slid over Moiraine’s stomach, she felt the faint tremble there, the little hitch in her breath as Siuan’s fingers ghosted just beneath the curve of her breast.

She hesitated.

Moiraine didn’t.

Instead, she caught Siuan’s hand and guided it upward until her palm was pressed over her breast - still covered by fabric, but enough to send a jolt through both of them.

Even through the cloth, Siuan felt the peak of her nipple tighten against her palm. A thrill shot through her, sharp and dizzying. She let her thumb graze over the stiffened nub, savoring the way Moiraine arched into her touch, her lips parting in a soundless gasp.

“Goddamn.”

Dozens of other desires crashed into Siuan at once.

“Pull her closer. Push the fabric aside - no, rip it. Bury your mouth against all that soft, untouched skin. Leave bites, leave marks, leave blemishes. Make Moiraine moan and pant, helpless, breathless-“

Siuan barely realized she was already reaching for the straps of Moiraine’s gown until her fingers brushed against them. She tugged them down, fabric slipping away, baring smooth skin to the lantern glow.

And damn, if she hadn’t thought the woman was breathtaking before…

Siuan had seen her bare like this once. Months ago, down by the creek in the mountains, when they were just beginning to trust each other. Back then, it had felt wrong to look. Back then, she had forced herself to turn away, cheeks burning hot with shame and embarrassment.

But this wasn’t back then. Now, she didn’t have to look away. Now, she even could-

Her mouth found Moiraine’s collarbone first, lips brushing over the delicate ridge before trailing lower, and lower still, until her mouth closed over the peak of her breast.

The huntress gasped.

It wasn’t quite a moan, but it was something barely contained; a quiet, hitched breath that Siuan felt more than she heard. She wished - god, she wished - they could be somewhere else. Somewhere she could make every sound last, could pull them from Moiraine’s lips as loud and unabashed as they needed to be.

Siuan wanted to lose herself in it - in her. Wanted to press her mouth harder, bite down and mark her, take her time leaving bruises on that soft skin, like painting flowers on a canvas. She wanted to let her hands roam endlessly, mapping every inch of Moiraine’s body until she knew it as well as the grip of her revolver or the weight of her saddle.

Her thoughts snapped apart the second she felt a hand slip beneath her nightshirt. Siuan gasped, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a louder sound as Moiraine’s thumb flicked back and forth over her nipple before squeezing her breast, kneading gently.

Their lips locked desperately, swallowing the small sounds they made in each other’s mouths, mindful of the quiet outside. Every subtle rustle of fabric, every stuttered inhale, felt magnified by the sheer recklessness of it all. One wrong sound, one overly curious bastard outside, and it could all be over.

And yet, the danger only seemed to make the need sharper.

Bolder now, Siuan shifted, pressing more fully against Moiraine, letting one leg slip between hers. She felt the nightgown ride up, felt bare skin graze against her thigh, and her fingers drifted toward the hem, stopping just short.

“How… uh… how far do you wanna take this?” she managed, her voice catching on her own damn desire. She hated breaking the moment, hated slowing this down, but she needed to be sure. “’I-I’m good with slow, or fast, or waitin’… whatever you want.”

Moiraine was flushed, lips pink and parted, breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. Her fingers tightened against Siuan’s shoulder. “I… I want to sleep with you.” A beat. Then, steadier, more certain. “Tonight. No more waiting.”

Siuan let out a ragged breath. Then, she nodded.

Her heart pounded. Not just from wanting this, not just from the sheer, breath-stealing thrill of finally getting to touch Moiraine like this, of having sex with her. No, it was something way more intense. Something far more terrifying. Something she hadn’t let herself name until now.

Love.

That was it, wasn’t it? She loved this woman. Probably had for a good while now, though the realization slammed into her like a fist to the gut. But there was no stopping it now, no fighting it. The truth was there, undeniable.

Siuan bent, pressing a lingering kiss to Moiraine’s shoulder. Then, she let her hand slip beneath the hem of her nightgown, fingers gliding over smooth skin, feeling the warmth radiating from her despite the cold creeping in from the winter night outside.

Her hand hovered at the waistband of Moiraine’s underwear, heart thrumming so loud it nearly drowned out every other sound. Even through the fabric, she could feel the almost feverish heat waiting there, a need so palpable it sent a tremor up her spine.

A deep, shuddering breath slipped from Moiraine’s lips as Siuan stroked over the fabric, pressing softly against the wet spot that had formed there, before quickly tugging that last barrier down.

Their mouths met again, melting into a kiss that deepened as Siuan traced her fingers back up, finally finding her mark.

The unmistakable slickness met her fingertips immediately, coating the tight curls and the sensitive skin there alike. A bolt of lightning shot through Siuan from head to toe - an awed realization that this was real, that Moiraine desperately wanted this.

The huntress let out a hushed moan that Siuan felt as a vibration against her mouth as her fingers slowly explored between Moiraine’s folds, gliding through silken wetness, learning her by touch.

Moiraine’s mouth parted, her head tilting away from Siuan’s lips, dark lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks, and by all the saints above … Siuan was ruined. Utterly. She swore it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

Moiraine’s breasts, bare and perfect, rose and fell with each trembling breath, her nipples still stiff and reddened from Siuan’s mouth. She was laid out for her, and Siuan wanted to memorize everything; every tiny shift of muscle, every quiet gasp, every delicate tremor.

With reverent awe, Siuan watched her - no, studied her - as she slowly eased a single finger inside.

The huntress whimpered. Not in hesitation. Not in discomfort. In pure, breathless need. She turned her face into the pillow, as if stifling her sounds, though they were only hushed sighs - tiny, overwhelmed breaths.

Siuan felt her - warm, impossibly soft around her finger - the way the muscles tensed, then slowly eased, adjusting to the pressure. She bent, pressing a kiss just below Moiraine’s ribs, tasting the faint trace of lavender soap on her skin, savoring the way her abdomen tightened, then relaxed beneath her lips.

Slowly, she began to move with more intent.

Her finger slid in careful, searching motions, coaxing more of those quiet, desperate gasps from Moiraine - testing what made her breath hitch, what made her hips shift, what drove her insane.

Each response, no matter how big or small, sent burning heat curling through Siuan’s body.

She dragged her mouth along Moiraine’s jawline, trailing kisses up to her ear, her voice rough with adoration as she whispered, “You feel incredible.” Then she pressed a second finger inside, slow and deep, her stomach twisting with heat as Moiraine’s breathy sounds turned closer to real moans.

“So damn incredible.”

Moiraine’s only response was a string of quiet, broken sounds that sent sparks right down to Siuan’s own core. She adjusted her angle, letting her thumb glide over Moiraine’s clit until a hand shot up, gripping her shoulder, clutching her like an anchor.

“Do you like that?” Siuan whispered against her lover‘s cheek. “When I do it like that?” She pressed just a little firmer, circling slow, deliberate strokes over that sensitive bundle of nerves - waiting, watching - until Moiraine’s hips rolled into her palm, chasing the friction.

“Mmmm.“ The huntress was so silent, Siuan could have cried just to hear her let go.

Her touch between Moiraine’s legs became a conversation of its own. Her fingers inside her moved; slow and steady, then firmer, bolder, then curling upwards until she found that spot.

When Siuan found the perfect rhythm, the right combination of circles and pressure, Moiraine’s fingers dug into her shoulder, nails biting into her skin as she yanked her down, crushing their faces together in a messy, desperate kiss.

Siuan felt her unraveling, felt how rapidly her lover was climbing now. Tension coiled through her limbs, her breath turning ragged, the heat between her thighs growing slicker.

Siuan kept her movements steady, letting Moiraine chase the feeling, letting her fall headfirst into it.

And when she did - when Moiraine came - she did so with a silent cry.

Her body arched, her inner walls fluttering around Siuan’s fingers, a sharp tremor overtaking her frame. The moment was so intimate, so achingly real, that it nearly undid Siuan herself.

She had to swallow hard, forcing down her own arousal and steadying the fire burning low in her belly.

With an unsteady breath, she withdrew her fingers, easing her hand away but keeping it close, cradling Moiraine’s hip.

“You all right?” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her lover‘s parted lips.

Her eyes fluttered open, still hazy and glassy with the remains of bliss. A slow, breathless smile curved her lips. “I’m… more than all right,” the huntress whispered.

Siuan chuckled, warmth spreading through her chest at the sight of Moiraine like this - sex-drunk, dizzy, happy.

“Really, that was…” Moiraine let out a breathless laugh. “That was everything.”

Siuan grinned proudly, leaning in to steal another slow, languid kiss. “You’re everything.“

For a few moments, they simply existed together, exchanging lazy caresses, tangled up in warmth as both recovered from the aftershocks of what had just passed between them.

At last, Moiraine let out a shaky, almost giddy laugh. “I, um…” She bit her lips, her cheeks flushing all over again. “I want to… do that for you, too.”

Siuan swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly where they rested against her lover‘s hip. “Don’t feel like you gotta,” she murmured, though her voice was thick with her own lingering need. “There’ll be other nights and we-.”

Before she could even finish her sentence, Moiraine moved, switching positions and pressing Siuan onto her back, hovering above now. She smirked, just a little, like she knew exactly what she was doing to Siuan.

“I want to,” she breathed, and there was something in her tone, a shy conviction, that made Siuan’s heart twist in the best damn way. “You know.. that novel you gave me…” Moiraine hesitated, her cheeks darkening. “I’ve been thinking about, um, doing these things. With you. All the time.”

A low groan threatened to escape Siuan’s throat, and it wasn’t just from the way Moiraine was looking at her. It was also from the sheer mortification of remembering that she’d accidentally gifted her French erotica.

Moiraine continued, almost shyly, “but I’m not… I’ve never really…” She swallowed. “I’ve only ever touched myself. Never another woman. But I’d like to learn how to touch you… what I need to do so you… you know, feel good.”

Siuan felt something warm and stupidly fond spread through her chest. Her brow relaxed, and she smiled like a damn idiot.

“Well, if that’s the case,” she murmured, voice dipping lower, “you just… do what feels right to you.” She reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind Moiraine’s ear. “Just remember what I just did, or how you like to do it for yourself.”

Moiraine nodded, looking both nervous and thrilled all at once.

Siuan barely had time to breathe before the woman shifted, slipping the blankets aside, her hands finding the hem of Siuan’s sleeping trousers. A shiver ran through her the moment her lover‘s fingers hooked into the fabric, tugging them lower until dark curls were revealed.

Moiraine started slow, mirroring Siuan’s earlier approach. Her palm settled between her legs, and her index finger ran through the wetness waiting there.

Siuan gasped, her breath catching, her whole damn world tilting as pleasure surged hot through her. She managed to clap a hand over her mouth, remembering - just barely - that they needed to stay quiet.

The huntress paused, her eyes widening slightly as her finger started exploring. “You’re… really…” She trailed off, cheeks flooding with the richest red Siuan had ever seen on a person. “You’re so wet.”

Siuan let out a shaky laugh, half delirious from desire. “Entirely your fault,” she rasped, grinning through the heat burning her face. The unbearable ache clawed at her, already threatening to consume her if Moiraine didn’t do something, didn’t touch her properly.

Almost without thinking, Siuan rolled her hips forward, chasing friction - anything to ease the ache.

The huntress seemed to notice. To understand . Her fingertips glided deeper, exploring Siuan with careful intent until she found her entrance and slipped inside.

“Finally!”

Unlike Moiraine’s quiet, breathy gasps, Siuan had to stifle a unabashed, lewd moan, her hands twisting in the blankets beneath her.

Moiraine moved gingerly at first, but with a studious attentiveness; watching every stutter in Siuan’s breath like it was a clue, refining her touch as she went. Seemingly encouraged by the suppressed moans slipping past Siuan’s bitten lip, she eased a second finger inside, picking up speed.

Her breath hitched at the wet, eager slide of her own fingers, her lips parting slightly, as though the sensation startled her.

Siuan watched her, mesmerized by the sheer focus in Moiraine’s expression, the way she seemed fascinated by every sound, every way Siuan’s body reacted.

Then, in a voice far too gentle for the absolute chaos she was causing, Moiraine asked, “Tell me if I’m going too fast.” Her blue eyes flicked up, seeking reassurance.

Siuan shook her head fiercely, forcing another wave of pleasure to pass quietly. “You’re doin’ perfect,” she rasped. “Maybe just curve your fingers a bit. Like…” She demonstrated the motion faintly with her own hand. “…this.”

Her lover nodded, brows knitting in concentration as she followed Siuan’s guidance.

And sweet Lords in heaven, did she learn fast.

Siuan’s hips jerked, her whole body tightening around the intrusion, and she bit down hard on her lip - so hard she swore she faintly tasted copper.

She nearly teared up from the thought of it. Moiraine - brilliant, bold, smart, fearless, beautiful Moiraine - was the one touching her like this. Learning her. Trying for her. Wanting to make her fall apart.

The second the huntress curled her fingers just right, pressing into a spot Siuan hadn’t even realized she needed, her whole body jolted. Her hand flew to Moiraine’s forearm as a quivering groan escaped her, her head tipping back against the pillow.

“That’s- yes- there,”  Siuan grinned, eyes squeezed shut.

Moiraine’s eyes went wide with wonder, and she repeated the motion. “That’s it?” she asked, like she couldn’t quite believe she’d just unraveled Siuan that easily.

Siuan gritted her teeth around something that was half a laugh and half a desperate sob. “God, yes… that’s it.”

If she’d been able to keep her damn eyes open, she would’ve seen the flicker of a small, proud little smile tug at Moiraine’s lips. Encouraged, the huntress leaned in, peppering soft, teasing kisses along Siuan’s collarbone, her neck, the corner of her jaw - anywhere her lips could reach. And all the while, she kept doing that motion.

The tension coiled tighter in Siuan’s belly with every deliberate push, every careful press of Moiraine’s fingers ratcheting up the pressure - until, finally, it snapped.

It was almost painful to contain herself, to not scream Moiraine’s name loud enough to wake the whole camp, to not let the world know just how hard she was breaking beneath this woman.

But somehow, somehow, Siuan managed. She came in wordless, silent pants, shuddering apart beneath her lover‘s touch.

Moiraine’s hand stayed, guiding her through the aftershocks, until it was too much. Siuan’s hand found her wrist, stilling her movements.

She sank into the pillows, chest heaving, trying to gather herself, trying to remember how the hell breathing worked. And when she finally found the strength to open her eyes, she saw the huntress watching her intently, expression uncertain, searching.

“Did I… was that… good?”

The question alone - superfluous!

Siuan let out a weak laugh, the sound filled with relief, with love, with something close to delirium. She wrapped her arms around Moiraine, pulling her into a sloppy, grateful kiss.

“Good Lord, woman, yes !” she cheered against her lips. “You keep that learnin’ curve up, and you’re gonna be the end of me.”

Moiraine beamed, pressing their lips together - greedily - and Siuan was almost surprised by the intensity of it.

Her hands didn’t stay still, didn’t settle. No, Moiraine was searching, grasping, roaming, cupping Siuan’s breast fiercely, fingers squeezing, kneading with an urgency that didn’t match the fact that both of them had already reached their peak. It was like something in the huntress had awakened; a hunger, a need…

And Siuan, still dizzy, still reeling, suddenly understood. At the realization, she grinned, grabbing Moiraine by the chin and tilting her head up, forcing her to meet her gaze.

And sure enough, there it was; a fire in those blue eyes.

Thirst.

Siuan’s grin turned wicked, her fingers tightening on her lover’s jaw as she leaned in. “You know,” she purred, lips grazing the shell of Moiraine’s ear, “there’s another way… to make you feel good - very good, if I dare say.”

Moiraine arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into something dangerously amused. “What’s on your mind?” she murmured, running a slow, teasing finger along Siuan’s lower lip.

Before the huntress could react, Siuan flipped them again, moving swiftly, easily, throwing Moiraine beneath her with a force that made the mattress creak in protest - a sound that might’ve been too loud.

They both froze for half a second, listening.

Then, realizing no one was stirring beyond the tent, Siuan let out a breathy chuckle and settled herself between Moiraine’s legs, bracing her weight on her forearms.

She folded the blankets aside, fully baring Moiraine’s lower half. Siuan’s breath hitched at the sight; supple, lean thighs parting in open invitation, her cunt still slick and flushed from earlier, tiny curls that almost looked golden in the lantern light.

Siuan swallowed hard, her mouth dry, her mind wild.

She couldn’t wait to get down on her.

Her fingertips drifted along Moiraine’s calf, tracing soft, idle patterns, moving upward, teasing. A slight tremor quivered through her, and Siuan paused, looking up at her.

Moiraine’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “So… how does this…?”

A smirk curved Siuan’s mouth. “Not too different,” she teased gently. “Just… kisses.”

She let her lips hover over Moiraine’s knee, close, teasing, letting anticipation build like slow-burning embers.

“But if anything feels too intense,” she murmured, brushing her nose along the soft skin there, “just say the word.” She let the words linger between them, let Moiraine feel the weight of her intention.

“Otherwise…”

Siuan moved higher, pressing a kiss to the inside of Moiraine’s knee. Then higher still, her lips grazing the skin of her thigh, each touch easing Moiraine’s legs further apart until-

She dipped her head between Moiraine’s legs, and began with a soft, reverent kiss right to Moiraine’s center.

The huntress gasped, a sharp, breathy sound that she quickly muffled with her forearm.

Siuan grinned against her. Encouraged, she pressed another kiss, then another, then parted Moiraine’s folds with the lightest brush of her tongue. She tasted salt and heat and something soft and heady, and hell, she wanted more.

She deepened her strokes, flicking her tongue with slow, precise pressure, teasing Moiraine open, savoring every little reaction;

The way her hips rose instinctively.

The way her breath came in quicker, shallower.

The way she grabbed the blankets beneath her.

Siuan groaned against her, the vibrations making the huntress tremble. “You taste damn incredible” she murmured, voice thick with pure desire, her breath skimming over slick, sensitive flesh.

Moiraine whimpered, barely holding back a sound. But Siuan didn’t stop - couldn’t stop. It was almost like she was being put under a spell.

Being down there, doing that, tasting Moiraine… it thrilled her in ways she couldn’t put into words.

And then she sucked, sealing her lips around Moiraine’s clit, circling her tongue in languid, precise motions. Her lover’s whole body tensed, her thighs tightening around Siuan’s head.

Bit by bit, Siuan grew bolder, flattening her tongue in firmer strokes, then dipping it deep inside Moiraine, then flicking across her clit in explorative, teasing patterns. Above her, Moiraine clutched her mouth, her knuckles white from the effort of staying quiet.

“Oh-… Si-… Siua-,” she whimpered beneath her hand, her voice cracking mid-syllable as she fought to keep it low. “I- god, I’m-… soon-… ”

Each time Siuan’s tongue flicked a little firmer, Moiraine’s entire frame shuddered, her hips rocking, her breath staggering, and Siuan knew she was close.

She applied focused, calculated pressure, timing each stroke to the erratic rise and fall of Moiraine’s chest, to the desperate way she twisted the blankets in her fists.

But hell, hearing her panting in this silent way made Siuan’s heart ache. She wanted her to be loud. She wanted her cries to touch the stars, to paint the dark of the night in colors, to be the sweetest lullaby there ever was.

“I’m-… oh-…“

Moiraine’s back arched and her breath seized. Siuan latched her lips around that pulsing spot, offering a final, devastating series of flicks. She groaned against her lover, working her through it, feeling every pulse, every tremor, every aftershock beneath her tongue.

Then, finally, when Moiraine’s body had softened into the aftermath, Siuan pressed one last, soft kiss to her center before withdrawing.

She wiped her dripping chin, pushed a sweat-damp curl from her forehead, and crawled up to catch the last of her lover’s silent cries in her mouth, kissing her through the wreckage of pleasure.

For a time, they simply lay there.

Siuan watched as Moiraine’s chest rose and fell, her breath still shaky, her body gradually steadying. Her nipples softened, her cheeks still flushed, her lips kiss-bruised and swollen.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything so beautiful, so utterly raw, so vulnerable and real.

And then-

“Siuan?”

She blinked, drawn from her daze. “Yeah?”

Moiraine hesitated. Her gaze flickered up, just for a brief moment, just long enough for Siuan to catch the way her expression shifted. Something delicate and unsure was hidden behind her eyes, before her gaze dropped to the crumpled blankets between them.

“I… I think I love you.”

Siuan froze. Her whole damn world stopped. For a hot second, her mind blanked, her thoughts running loud, frantic, colliding all at once. But before she could even process what was happening-

“No.”

Moiraine lifted her gaze again. And this time, she didn’t hesitate. She looked at Siuan - dead in the eye.

“I know it. I love you, Siuan.”

A thousand thoughts. A thousand emotions.

Panic. Confusion. Devotion. Joy. Love… All loud. All at once.

But in the midst of the chaos, something deeper spoke. And before she could stop herself, before doubt or fear or anything else could interfere, her heart answered first.

“I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Siuan’s eyes were raw from lack of sleep and her limbs felt like a rag someone had wrung out and left to dry in a stiff wind. Every muscle ached in ways that weren’t about early-morning chores or the sting of a chilly dawn.

But hell if the reason wasn’t worth every twinge.

She stole a glance across the fire, where Moiraine helped herself to a cup of something that might pass as coffee if you squint real hard. Her dark hair was pinned back, a few stray locks framing the regal curve of her cheekbones. And while that usual mask of hers loomed behind her eyes, Siuan spotted Moiraine’s tiredness. Maybe it was the daybreak… or maybe it was because of everything they’d done all night long till the first light hit the horizon.

A flutter rippled low in Siuan’s belly, remembering how it felt to kiss Moiraine’s throat, to thread her fingers in that silky hair and pull her close until neither of them had the sense to come up for air. They’d spent the whole night tangled in each other, letting down walls and forgetting caution. For once, there had been no need to pretend, no need to dance around what was between them. It had happened.

They were them now.

Siuan trudged toward the remains of the campfire, ignoring the twist in her stomach that said she needed more sleep than this. The faint sizzle of fried eggs teased her nose, but what she really craved was a steaming mug of coffee, served black as a crow’s wing. She was sure her stomach would punish her for it, but she didn’t care. Mornings made her mean, and she wanted something to match that bitterness.

Lan spotted her before she could slump down on the nearest log. He didn’t wave – the man was about as flashy as a patch of shadows - but he lifted a tin mug in her direction.

“Morning,” he offered, crossing the distance in a few long strides. He handed her the mug with a small dip of his chin and gave her a quick once-over. “Tough night?”

She accepted the coffee like it was salvation itself, took a noisy slurp, then grunted. “You know me… Ain’t exactly a sunrise sweetheart. Mornings and I don’t get along.”

Lan’s mouth pulled just slightly at one corner, an almost-smile. “I can see that.”

Siuan took another swallow of coffee, letting the harsh taste jolt her nerves awake. Her attention flicked over to the huntress again. The woman was making a valiant attempt at looking perfectly rested; chin high, posture ruler-straight, expression measured as always. To anyone else, she looked the same as every day. But there was a telling heaviness in her shoulders, faint shadows beneath her eyes that reminded Siuan of bruised moonlight. If you knew what to look for, you saw it plain as day.

Lan must’ve caught where her attention had wandered. “She looks a little tired, too,” he observed. “Both of you up late?”

Siuan made a show of shrugging, though her mind turned traitor, conjuring images of Moiraine’s hair fanned across the pillow, of soft sighs swallowed by the night, the dizzying rush of orgasm after orgasm. Her cheeks warmed, and she lowered her eyes to her tin cup.

“Gotta share my bed with her, big guy,” she mumble. “Tight fit, not a whole lotta elbow room. Hardly the best sleep in the world. And these nights are cold enough to freeze a horse trough.”

He gave her a look that clearly said he wasn’t fooled, but he settled for a slow nod. “Right… next night, maybe see if you can get some extra blankets. Might help.”

“Sure,” Siuan drawled back. “Blanket’s definitely the solution.”

Before anything else could slip, Gareth’s booming clap cut through the morning murmur. He strode out from behind a wagon, that flashy grin plastered on his face. “Sweet mornin’, folks,” he hollered. “Time to shake off them cobwebs. We got business!”

Siuan’s teeth ground together, a rumble of annoyance hovering in the back of her throat. That man so rarely spoke at a reasonable pitch - always barking orders as if the rest of them needed reminding who ran the show. Most folks in camp let him have his way, figured it was easier than picking a fight. Siuan wasn’t part of them. 

This morning, though, she felt too worn out to fuss or argue about his volume, so she just dragged her tired legs over to the circle forming around the fire pit. Lan and Moiraine joined her, each from their own direction.

Siuan caught her gaze just long enough to offer a quick, wry smile. Moiraine’s lips curved ever so slightly in return; a gesture so subtle, yet so potent, that Siuan had to press her boots into the dirt to steady herself.

Gareth cleared his throat once everyone gathered. “We got ourselves a damn fine opportunity in Strawberry, two days out,” he announced. “There’s a fella comin’ through, goes by the name of Ezra Doyle. Real fancy type, runs a transport business, movin’ all kind of goods from Saint Denis to Blackwater. More importantly, the bastard’s got bonds - no serial numbers, no paper trail, but worth a damn fortune if we can get our hands on ‘em.”

He paused, sweeping his gaze around the group, letting the possibility sink in. “Now, we ain’t talkin’ a full-highway robbery. Man’s too well-guarded for that anyway,” Gareth went on, tapping two fingers against his temple as if that proved he had a brain. “We’ll use our heads this time, surprise him in his room in Strawberry.”

A restless shuffle moved through the circle. Someone asked, “And how exactly are we plannin’ on doin’ that without guns-blazin’?”

Gareth’s grin turned sharp. “Glad you asked - by playin’ smart. We go in to pose as potential buyers, get close, gain his trust, get him to talk money, maybe even have him show us the damn bonds to sweeten the deal. Then-” He made a slicing motion with his hand. “We take ‘em – snatch and dash. No blood, no bodies.”

Siuan frowned into her coffee. She didn’t mind the idea of a well-planned haul - heists were practically her day job - but whenever Gareth got that bright spark in his eyes, it usually spelled trouble. And the mention of ‘no blood’ never guaranteed anything.

“Now,” he pressed on, “we’re short on bodies with half our group out searchin’ for that princess. But we gotta be more than one or two, seein’ as this fella’s sure to have muscle and the border near Strawberry is crawlin’ with Pinkertons.” His gaze swept over the huddle like a hawk sizing up prey. “We form a team with what we have - some stay behind and check so things go smoothly, and some will do the talkin’.”

He paused for effect, then his stare, certain as a bullet, landed pointedly on Moiraine. “That includes our newest addition. She’ll do the talkin’.”

A hush fell. Moiraine’s chin rose by a fraction, a frost settling behind her blue eyes, but Siuan caught the hard set of her jaw.

“The hell it does, she ain’t goin’,” Siuan blurted, words flying out before her brain could catch up.

Everyone’s attention pinned itself on her. She felt it like a physical weight, and her gut twisted in regret. Maybe she should’ve counted to ten before mouthing off - again.

The boss raised an eyebrow. “’Scuse me?”

Siuan forced a cool shrug she sure didn’t feel. She couldn’t make this too obvious now. “I’m just sayin’ we got folks better suited for this kinda job. Moiraine is a huntress, we shouldn’t yank her from that.”

Gareth shifted his weight, leaning a hip against a barrel and sizing her up. “She’s in the gang, same as the rest of us. ‘Sides, we need someone with a fresh face to play innocent.” He flicked his gaze back to Moiraine, and the twisting in Siuan’s gut got worse. She really didn’t like where this was headed.

Moiraine, for her part, held herself with that poised elegance she always had. “So you want me to stand in front of Doyle with a friendly smile and a smooth lie,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“Exactly,” Gareth confirmed with a tight nod. “Prove you can be more than a stealthy hunter out there, and show us that you’re good at the finer points – y’know, trick a man and seal a deal.”

Siuan took a step forward, fighting the urge to make it obvious how badly she hated the idea. “How ’bout you let me handle that part? I’ve done enough cons to-“

Gareth shot her a look that could’ve cut glass. “Siuan, you sure been talkin’ a lot lately and I’m gettin’ mighty tired of it. We all pitch in and do whatever the gang needs - no exceptions, no special treatment. Especially for the new blood. You said she can handle herself, so here’s her chance… unless you’re sayin’ she can’t…?”

Siuan exhaled slowly through her nose, forcing herself not to snap. If she pushed too hard, she’d only make it worse. “Don’t twist my words. She proved she’s good,” she said, tone taut, “and she is doin’ what the gang needs. But she’s a huntress, not a con artist. And if bullets start flyin’, she’s no gunslinger either.”

Gareth let out a short laugh, more a bark than humor. “Oh, she will be. Let me remind you: you’re the one who brought her into our fold. You vouched for her, Siuan, and now she’s in the business. That means she takes the same risks as the rest of us. You don’t get to backtrack just ‘cause you got a soft spot.”

Siuan bristled at that phrase - soft spot. She felt her fists clench at her sides but forced her tone flat. “I ain’t backtrackin’. I’m tryin’ to … to keep your precious job from goin’ south is all,” she managed. “For once in your life, Gareth, have some damned common sense and think things trough.”

A ripple of unease passed among the others, as though they might scatter if fists started swinging. Gareth echoed her words with a sneer. “Common sense? Sure, let’s talk ‘bout sense. We’re burnin’ through supplies faster than we can stock up. A big score can keep us alive through winter. That’s sense!”

“If it goes right,” Siuan hissed, clamping down hard on her temper. She tried to rein herself in with a sharp breath. “Look, I ain’t sayin’ we shouldn’t do the job, just that Moiraine shouldn’t be forced into it. Hell, we all know the search parties are still strong out there. It’s just a matter of time till we pick up a scent, right? If the princess is still out there, that is.” She cut a glance toward Moiraine but quickly looked away, praying Gareth wouldn’t latch onto that flicker of concern. ”You’re playin’ a greedy hand, Gareth. Goin’ after every damn thing that crosses your path.”

The mention of the princess, even in passing, made Moiraine flinch - so minuscule nobody else would ever notice. Gareth, though, seized onto the word ‘greedy’ as if it were a personal challenge.

“You watch that mouth, kid,” he spat, stepping forward and towering over her so she could practically see the veins in his neck. “I’m in charge and we do what I say - all of us.”

Siuan didn’t budge an inch, determined not to show an ounce of intimidation. “Where’s your sense of leadership and loyalty, then? You’re draggin’ our newest recruit right into Pinkerton territory and a high-risk job. If she-… if she takes a bullet, that’s on you.” Just saying it tightened the muscles in her throat.

Gareth met her glare with equal fire, and silence fell over the gathering. Finally, he spoke, each syllable frost-bitten. “Quit your goddamned yappin’, Sanche. She’s your liability, said so yourself. If she can’t hold her own, that’s on you. And if you care so much about your little friend, maybe you should focus on keepin’ her alive out there. You’re awful damn protective, and it’s gettin’ on my nerves.”

Silence.

Siuan’s blood burned. She wanted to yell. She wanted to hit something – no, hit someone. She wanted to lash out, watch him stagger from a well-aimed punch. Her arms trembled, fists itching for action. But before she could so much as raise them, Lan’s hand landed firm on her shoulder - just enough pressure to hold her in place. The faint crease between his brows told her he was ready to pull her off Gareth if things turned ugly.

“She’s not wrong,” Lan said evenly, directing the attention to himself. “Moiraine was meant to be our tracker, not a gunhand. She’s done decent with firearms in practice, but it’s not the same as pullinf off a swindle. You know that, Gareth.”

The boss exhaled sharply, obviously trying for patience. “She’s been shootin’ plenty fine the other day.” His gaze darted to Moiraine, sweeping over her as though calculating her worth. “I don’t know what’s in the water, but y’all need to stop coddling her.”

“Ain’t nobody coddling anyone,” Siuan bit back.

“The hell you aren’t.” Gareth gave her a sneer. “I’m done arguin’. I’m the one holdin’ this place together, and if you got a problem with how I run things, you can hit the trail. Both of you.” He jabbed a finger toward Siuan and Lan, then jerked it in Moiraine’s direction. “And that goes for her, too.”

Siuan’s vision tinted red. She ground her teeth so hard, she half expected sparks. She wanted to break his nose, watch that smug look vanish. But she felt Lan shift closer, tensed like he might yank her back at any second.

“I’ll come.” 

Siuan’s heart felt like it dropped into ice water. She curled her hands into fists so tight, her knuckles blanched. “Moiraine-”

“I’ll do it,” Moiraine said again, firmer this time. She looked from Gareth to Siuan, then gave a small, curt nod.

Oh, Siuan hated this. And she hated the way Gareth looked so very, very pleased. 

“No, Moiraine, you don’t have to-”

“Sanche! Enough!” Gareth thundered, cutting off anything else Siuan might say. “Stop it - she’s in. We’ll plan the details later. For now, you best watch yourself. I don’t care if you just tryin’ to make some friends, or if you’ve suddenly decided to pick a fight with me at every turn, but that nonsense stops. We can’t afford you pickin’ favorites. You understand me?”

Not a word came from Siuan’s pressed lips.

“Do you understand me, for goddamn sake?”

Siuan gritted her teeth, swallowing down the fire in her throat. “Yeah.” The word scraped out of her mouth like gravel. 

“Good.” The boss flicked a dismissive glance at her, then turned his attention back to the group, ordering the rest in his usual, bellowing way. “Meeting dismissed.” Another loud clap of his hands, and just like that, he walked off. 

Siuan stood rooted in place for a moment, steam practically leaking from her ears. The rest of the gang began to disperse, uneasy glances exchanged. She heard some murmured words - people saying, “Never seen Gareth that riled,” or “Sanche’s gonna get herself shot one of these days.” Normally she might’ve bristled at that, but right now her anger burned too hot to let it land.

With a muttered curse, she spun on her heel and stalked off in the direction of the trees, ignoring Lan’s quiet call from behind. She needed to move, needed to let that fury bleed out.

Her boots pounded the ground, small clouds of powdery snow swirling under her heels, the cold air scratching at her lungs. But Siuan barely noticed the chill. She was too busy chewing over Gareth’s smug face, over the picture in her head of Moiraine caught in some cramped hotel room, pinned between Doyle’s guards or Pinkertons. A scowl twisted her features as the thought tore at her gut. Moiraine could handle a rifle just fine, yes, but cons and cornered shootouts were a whole other beast than stalking game.

The swirling anger inside her begged for a way out, pulsing hot in her veins like a fever she couldn’t sweat out. Punching something - hell, punching everything - flashed through her mind. Maybe driving her fist into a tree until the bark tore her knuckles raw would be enough to blot out the thought of Moiraine in the line of fire.

She settled for shoving the heel of her palm against the gnarled trunk of a sturdy oak, breathing hard. Its bark scratched her hand, the rough ridges biting into her skin, and she latched onto that minor sting - anything to stay in the moment instead of spiraling into memory.

This was bullshit.

This was stupid.

This was dangerous as hell.

Moiraine had no place in a shootout, in a robbery, in anything that Gareth was planning. She needed to be here. She needed to be safe.

Siuan stared at the moss creeping over the trunk, letting the green fuzz draw her back to calmer thoughts. But a footstep behind her popped that bubble. Of course it would be Moiraine. No one else glided over the earth so gracefully.

Siuan clenched her jaw, turning just enough to see her hunch was right. The huntress approached with cautious steps, that delicate face almost serene. “Siuan,” she murmured, voice carrying a note of genuine concern. “Tell me what’s going on in that head.”

Siuan exhaled in one long rush, glancing away from Moiraine’s gaze. “Ain’t much to say,” she answered, her tone curdled with frustration. “We both heard Gareth. You’re in. End of story.”

She heard the other woman shift her weight. “I told him I’d do it because I can,” she said. “I know you think I should stay out of that business. Believe me, I’d rather not be there either, but we don’t have a choice.”

Siuan dragged a hand down her face, trying and failing to dispel the knot of anger and worry in her chest. “Moiraine, you’re not some gun-slingin’ bandit. You can shoot, yeah, but it’s different in a close-quarters brawl. It’s chaos. You can’t just vanish into the trees if everythin’ goes sideways.”

“I can handle more than you think.” Then, in a softer tone, she added, “You’re worried about more than just bullets, though.”

Siuan’s breath caught in her throat. She almost spat out a denial, but nothing came. Because Moiraine was right.

She wasn’t just worried about a job turning sour. She was terrified that history would repeat itself. She had vowed to whatever gods might be listening, sworn until her voice went hoarse that she’d never get attached again, never fall in love again, never let another soul get dragged into the gritty mess of her life.

Yet here she was, able to recall exactly how Moiraine’s belly twitched under the slightest tickle, how the woman’s small, heart-shaped birthmark rested just beneath her right breast, how her hair smelled of lavender most strongly at the nape of her neck.

Siuan swallowed hard, shutting her eyes against the onslaught of memories. Another time, another woman. Images tore through her mind unbidden: a body sprawled on rough-hewn planks, sticky dark blood soaking into the wood, Marisa’s lifeless eyes gazing at nothing at all - just a bullet hole for a crown. Siuan’s heart lurched as old panic rose, threatening to drag her under.

Air slipped from Siuan’s lungs in a strangled rush, and she almost gagged on the bitter edge of panic racing through her veins. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the image away. Her heart stuttered, and the world around her seemed too bright, too cold.

“Siuan.” The gentleness in Moiraine’s voice brought her back, little by little. “Breathe. Slow and steady.”

Siuan realized she was holding her breath. Her chest ached as she dragged in air - once, twice - tasting pine, camp smoke, and a stinging hint of old sorrow. She clenched her teeth, fighting back the wave of nausea and the thunder of her pulse.

“I just-”

She shut her eyes again, trying to sort through the mess in her head. “I’ve seen what happens to people who get close to me, Moiraine. And I am damn well terrified that one day I’ll see you lyin’ there too, bullet in your head. Don’t you get that?”

She nearly choked on the last words, but Moiraine’s presence refused to let her spiral. Her hand remained steady on Siuan’s arm, grounding her, keeping her tethered to the present. In that fragile moment, Siuan knew the huntress saw everything: her fear, her memories, the guilt clenched around her heart. And Moiraine held fast anyway, offering a quiet strength Siuan didn’t know how to accept but desperately needed.

“I do get it, Siuan,” Moiraine murmured. “But I’m good at slipping away if I must.”

It made sense - in a cold, logical way. But sense didn’t do a damn thing to calm the fear rattling in Siuan’s bones. “So you’re willin’ to stand in a saloon or a hotel room or wherever the hell Gareth picks and talk your way into a man’s trust. If bullets start flyin’, I’d be stuck watchin’ your back, not sure if I can keep you safe.”

Moiraine’s fingers curled gently around Siuan’s arm, a fleeting squeeze. “We can prepare. Practice. You can show me exactly how to handle a revolver up close,” she offered. “We have two days, right? That’s time enough to get comfortable with the plan.”

Siuan huffed, a strangled laugh punching out of her chest. “Comfortable,” she echoed, sarcasm thick in her tone. “Sure, let’s all get real cozy with possible shootouts.”

Still, she couldn’t deny that preparing was better than ignoring the danger. With a reluctant nod, she pressed her palm to her temple. “We start in an hour,” she said. “I’ll show you some close-quarter moves, reloading quick under pressure. That sort of thing. I know you’re good, but I want you better.” A pause, her tone turning earnest. “And I ain’t tryin’ to be controllin’, Moiraine. I just… want you safe.”

“I know,” the huntress said. “And I will be.”

Siuan wanted nothing more than to pull Moiraine close, bury her face in the curve of her neck and forget this entire morning. But the camp was a stone’s throw away, and they’re both too aware of watchful eyes. So instead, Siuan gave Moiraine’s hand a gentle squeeze, then let her arm drop back to her side.

A job like this never went smoothly. She’s been in enough to know that as sure as the sun rose in the east. And with Moiraine forced into the middle of it, her stomach churns at every possible worst-case scenario.

Chapter Text

Strawberry always looked too innocent to be real.  

Nestled in the foothills, its houses built on tidy planks, it had all the trimmings of a frontier paradise; a little waterfall footbridge, neatly painted storefronts, and welcome signs politely urging visitors to linger.

But Siuan had passed through this town before. Years back, on a job that went so sideways it was practically upside-down, and she’d learned that even Strawberry could be a pit of vipers under all that quaint decor.  

She felt that same prickle of unease now. Maybe it was the too-perfect reflection of the morning sun in the still water by the mill. Or the way townsfolk paused their routines and threw curious glances, obviously wondering who these strangers were. Or maybe it was simply that they were about to swindle a notorious grifter on his own turf. 

Mid-morning found them riding seven strong - Siuan, Moiraine, Gareth, Lan, Ivhon, Maksim, and Thom. Behind them trailed the rest of the gang, far enough to keep out of sight but close enough to come down like hellfire if things went south.  In Gareth’s words, they wanted “enough muscle to handle trouble, not enough to raise eyebrows.”

Siuan privately thought a posse this size raised eyebrows plenty. Still, she swallowed her complaint, knowing damn well that there was no use arguing when she’d already lost the case back in camp.

At least, they’d done their best to clean up. The boss had demanded they all look “respectable,” which was code for “like you could sit in a parlor, sipping brandy without making folks choke.”

Siuan felt awkward in the ‘borrowed’ waistcoat that didn’t quite fit across her shoulders, but at least the dark cloth gave her a polished look. Crisp black trousers replaced her patched jeans, and a fancy belt buckle flashed at her waist, probably bright enough to blind a man. She didn’t much care for the slick getup, but she played along. Gareth himself, on the other hand, had clearly taken to his disguise with gusto; thick pomade in hair, wearing the best suit he owned, and a grin that said he was enjoying his reflection in every window they passed. 

The real sight, though, was Moiraine.  

Siuan had expected her to insist on some subdued attire that would let her vanish in a crowd if necessary. But instead, the woman dressed up in a midnight-blue traveling gown, trim at the waist, with a high collar that accentuated the swanlike line of her neck. The skirt fell just shy of trailing in the dust, revealing sturdy but polished boots beneath. She’d pinned her dark hair back in a sleek twist, a few soft strands escpaing to frame her face.  

In her posture and appearance, Siuan saw the faint echo of the lost noble. Moiraine looked exactly like she belonged in the kind of circles she’d spent two decades running from. She might be a fugitive princess in hiding, yes, but those old lessons in refinement seemed to linger in her bones.  

It unnerved Siuan.  

She’d never seen – or expected to see - the huntress don the full weight of that regal mask in such a public way, and it knotted her gut with worry. If she noticed that aristocratic bearing, any half-smart Pinkerton (or gang leader) might notice it too. But Moiraine had insisted this was the best approach for this kind of job. Said it like a strategy, like a move on a chessboard no one else wasn’t seeing yet. And Siuan, for all her worry, couldn’t help but be equal parts bedazzled and uneasy.  

They stabled their horses at the edge of town, not wanting to parade a big group on horseback right through Strawberry’s center.  As Siuan dismounted, she caught Gareth’s expression. Smug, but calculating, too. He’d been the one to insist Moiraine play the lead role. Maybe he was hoping she’d succeed spectacularly, make their job smooth as silk. Or maybe he was actively hoping she’d trip and fail… with him ready to swoop in and spin the story his way.

Siuan didn’t like - none of it.

Dressed-up or not, polished speech or not, they were still outlaws doing an outlaw’s job. And Gareth, sly bastard that he was, would probably sell them all out if it meant stuffing his own pockets. She clenched her jaw, swallowing down the heat crawling up her spine. No use getting tangled in that now. She had to stay sharp. This job was too delicate to get wrecked by her anger.  

They moved into town in a loose formation, their strides careful but easy, just folks looking for a warm place to land. Their target was the hotel-lodge, a tidy two-story clapboard building with squeaky porch chairs and lace-trimmed curtains in the windows. Flowerboxes lined the railings, their blooms long since withered in the winter cold. It looked cozy enough to lure in wealthy travelers who craved a scenic hideaway to stash their secrets. Or, in this case, a perfect hideout for a man like Ezra Doyle.

Gareth paused at the entrance, running his gaze over the townsfolk. No one seemed to be paying them too much attention anymore. Satisfied with the situation, he leaned in close.

“We do this by the script,” he muttered, keeping his voice low. “We talk our way in, pretend we got money to burn. Me and Miss huntress here-” he jerked his chin at Moiraine, “-do the sweet-talkin’. Once he’s warmed to us, we ask about those untraceable bonds, or papers, or whatever the bastard’s got. That’s when Ivhon, Maksim, and Thom slip in and handle the strongbox while we keep Doyle and his men occupied.” He smirked. “And we all leave fat and happy.”

Siuan curled her lip. She was sure she’d heard better plans from drunks around a saloon poker table.

“We don’t want to spook him,” Gareth continued, voice dipping even lower. “Maksim, you chat up the clerk, keep them friendly. Ivhon, grab yourself a seat in the corner, look bored. Thom, you take a walk - check the hallways, make sure we ain’t got unexpected company. Lan, you’re with me and Moiraine. And Siuan…” He stopped, mouth twisting as if it physically pained him to even acknowledge her.

She raised a brow, waiting.

“I guess it’s best you’re with me and Moiraine too. But keep your damn temper in check – no fuss this time.” He narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to gauge whether she was going to be be a problem.

Siuan resisted the urge to throw a mock salute and shout, “Yessir, marshal”, and instead settled for a clipped nod.

They filed inside, boots clicking against smooth planks that had probably never seen a speck of trail dust until the gang showed up. The lobby smelled of lemon polish and mild cigar smoke, the kind that clung to moneyed men who never had to roll their own. A clerk looked up from behind a tall desk, blinking at the sudden arrival of so many bodies dressed like they’d come to sign away half the county in a business deal.

Gareth ambled up to the desk, leaning an elbow on the counter as if he owned the place. His tone rose to full-on swagger. “We’re here to see Mr. Ezra Doyle. Heard tell he’s lodged in your best suite upstairs.”

“Mr. Doyle?” The clerk’s brows knit, gaze skating from Gareth’s slick finery to Lan’s stony face, over to Moiraine’s regal appearance. “He never mentioned expecting visitors.” Siuan caught the flicker of calculation in the young man’s eyes; hesitation warring with the instinct to keep paying guests happy.

“Well, he’s expectin’ us,” Gareth added, tapping one of his ringed fingers against the counter. Three gold bands adorned his knuckles, each one a trophy from some poor soul who had lost it fair and square - or not so fair. “Wouldn’t want to keep him waitin’.”

Shifting on his heels, the clerk fidgeted. “Shall I announce you first?”

Before Gareth could open his mouth, Moiraine cut in smoothly. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, voice as polished as the wood beneath her boots. “It’s a time-sensitive matter, and we’d hate to impose on your other duties. Thank you for your courtesy.”

It wasn’t a request.

The clerk swallowed, nodding. “Suite 2A,” he murmured, glancing at Gareth’s rings again like they might sprout claws. “Stairs are just-”

“Right there,” Gareth interrupted with a winning grin, already stepping toward them. “Thank you kindly.”

As the boss strutted toward the stairs, Maksim struck up easy chatter with the clerk - “Nice place, how’s business?” - while Ivhon snagged a chair in a shadowy corner, crossing his ankles like he had all day to wait for a stagecoach. Meanwhile, Thom slipped off down a side hall, scanning for exits or any unwanted company lurking in the wings.

So far, so good.

Still, Siuan couldn’t shake the tension prickling between her shoulder blades. This whole gig seemed too big, too orchestrated. There were too many moving parts, too much relying on things going just right – and things usually never went just right.

At the top of the stairs, a thick carpet muffled their steps, swallowing every movement like the place was built to keep secrets. Suite 2A stood near the end of the corridor, a solid oak door with a gleaming brass number, polished so fine she could see the vague shapes of their reflections in it. Moiraine paused in front of it, took a measured breath, then tapped three times - rapid, polite, and just insistent enough to convey importance. 

A pause. Then, a muffled voice. “Yes? Who is it?”  

Gareth’s mouth opened to reply, but Moiraine eased forward. “Mr. Doyle? My associates and I have a business proposition. We understand you may be… uniquely helpful.”

Footsteps. A shadow shifted behind the door. Then, the latch turned.

A heartbeat later, it inched open to reveal a tall man with sandy-blond hair and a keen, calculating stare. Behind him, two other figures hovered - bodyguards, no doubt. One had shoulders wide enough to fill the frame. The other bore a jagged scar down his cheek, the kind of mark a man didn’t walk away from easy.

Doyle gave Moiraine a once-over first, tracing the sweep of her elegant attire, then over to Gareth’s fine suit, up to Lan’s impassive expression before pausing on Siuan. She met his eyes evenly, willing herself to look refined instead of like she was two breaths away from pulling iron and putting a stop to this whole charade right then and there.

“I don’t recall inviting company,” Doyle said, voice hinting at suspicion. “What’s this about?” 

Moiraine offered a measured smile. “Your invitation is implied by your reputation, Mr. Doyle,” she said smoothly. “We’ve heard rumor that you’re capable of… discreet transactions and transportations. We hoped to discuss an opportunity. In private.”

Silence.

Siuan could all but hear the gears grinding in the man’s head, weighing the risk, tallying up the cost of letting in a pack of strangers against whatever prize might be waiting on the other side. His fingers drummed idly against the doorframe, tapping a rhythm only he seemed to understand.

“Rumor, huh?” he mused. Then, as if making his decision, he swung the door wider. “Alright, come in.” A pointed glance at their numbers. “But don’t crowd me.”

Siuan stepped across the threshold, mentally crossing her fingers. This was it. The point of no return. And if Gareth’s half-cocked plan started to nosedive, she’d be damned if she wasn’t ready to drag it back from the brink.

Inside, the suite sprawled larger than she would’ve ever guessed from the hallway. A Persian rug covered the floor, the kind of thing that had never seen a boot covered in honest dirt. A tall window let in fractured sunlight, glinting off the polished brass corners of a traveling trunk tucked against the wall. The wallpaper was a faded rose pattern, expensive no doubt but a little outdated. Near the window, a small table held a half-empty brandy decanter and two crystal glasses. Signs of wealth were everywhere. No wonder Gareth was practically salivating.

Doyle strolled over to the window, his back to the sunlight, eyes on them. The two bodyguards fanned out on either side, crossing their arms in silent challenge. Both had revolvers riding low on their hips, worn with the confidence of men who didn’t hesitate to use them. One snuck a narrow-eyed glance at Lan, who stared back without so much as blinking. Siuan tried for that same calm, ready to play her part in the quiet tension stretching between them. This was Moiraine’s game now.

And she played it damn well.

Moiraine stepped inside the room with unhurried grace. She inclined her head at Doyle, not in deference, but in recognition, like two players sitting across the same high-stakes table. “I appreciate you taking the time to see us, Mr. Doyle. We realize we’re an unexpected arrival. But where financial matters are concerned, timelines can be… pressing.”

He inclined his head in return, matching her polished civility. “Unexpected indeed,” he echoed. “And you said your name was Miss…?”

“Lady Alys.” The alias rolled off her tongue like it had always been hers. “This is my associate, Mister Sean,” she gestured to Gareth, “and our companions, Mara and Andra. We’re traveling from Blackwater to Annesburg, and have it on good authority that you’re the man to speak to.”

The lie draped over her like a silk veil - no hesitation and no stumble. Siuan marveled at it. Moiraine performed with all the practiced ease of someone who was so very well-versed in masks, of someone spending her whole life bending truth into something palatable for the people who needed to believe it.

Doyle’s brow furrowed, but interest flickered in his eye. “I might be,” he allowed. “And if I were, what exactly would that mean to you?”

Moiraine tilted her head, considering him with the same careful calculation he was giving her. “We’re looking to move a substantial sum of currency across various territories – quietly, that is. We were informed that you’re quite skilled at circumventing, let’s say… certain legal complications.”

Gareth, seemingly eager to reclaim some authority, coughed lightly. “We’ve got coin, Mr. Doyle. And we’re prepared to pay handsomely for a clean solution.”

Doyle barely spared him a glance, his attention fixed on Moiraine like a cat studying a bird too confident for its own good. Siuan didn’t like the way his gaze lingered on her. “How comes I’ve never heard of a Lady Alys before?” he mused.

Siuan caught the tightness in Gareth’s jaw, as though he was both dazzled by Moiraine’s performance and irritated at being overshadowed and not the center of attention. “Suck it up,” she thought, stifling a smirk.

Moiraine let a slow, knowing smile touch her lips. Not too much, just enough. “I keep my dealings discreet, Mr. Doyle,” she said. “When one manages certain… funds… inconspicuousness becomes the greatest ally.”

Each of her words landed with a subtle ring of confidence, layered with enough subtext to fill a ledger. And Doyle, for all his wariness, seemed drawn in. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, his gaze sweeping over the group again, but it was Moiraine he kept circling back to.

The corners of his mouth lifted in something close to pride. “You wouldn’t be the first well-to-do individuals to approach me. The question is, what exactly do you need transported, and how much are you willing to pay for that service?” 

“That’s exactly what we hoped to discuss.” Moiraine’s voice was smooth as silk, carrying just the right amount of intrigue to keep Doyle interested. Her eyes flicked, ever so briefly, toward the trunk by the window. It was a gesture so subtle it could have been nothing, yet it carried the weight of implication. “We’re not discussing small-time shipments of contraband,” she continued. “We’re talking bank bonds, negotiable papers capable of crossing state lines without drawing official attention. I’ve heard rumors you keep a stash or two of such documents yourself.”

The man’s lips twitched, half a smirk, half a challenge. “And what makes you think these rumors are true, Lady Alys?”

“Rumors and truth often mix,” Moiraine said lightly. “And that can be quite revealing, if you know how to read it.” A brief pause, then the shift - the subtle push. “Are we speaking of rumors that say you have in your possession untraceable bank scrip? Or is that claim so far from the truth as to be laughable?”

Ezra’s two bodyguards exchanged a glance and Siuan’s pulse picked up a notch. She edged half a step to the side, putting herself subtly between Moiraine and the big guard. Just in case.

Across from her, Gareth stole another glance at Moiraine, his expression shifting ever so slightly, like he was reevaluating everything he thought he knew about her. Clearly, he hadn’t expected her to carry the con this far on her own. Siuan saw it, the flicker of curiosity… and the start of suspicion. She kept her expression neutral, but in the back of her mind, unease coiled tighter and tighter.

Moiraine was good at this. Maybe a little too good. If Gareth realized just how deft the huntress really was, he might start nosing where he shouldn’t - like into her past.

The tension stretched thin as fishing line. Then Doyle let out a soft chuckle. “You’re bold. Not many folks come right out and speak so plainly about my business and say they want unmarked paper.” He reached for the brandy decanter, pouring himself a glass. “But… I like your flavor of bold, Lady Alys.”

He lifted the decanter slightly in offering. “Perhaps you’d care for a drink?”

Moiraine shook her head, her refusal just as polished as every word she’d spoken. “Thank you, but no. We prefer to keep our heads clear when discussing finances.”

Gareth cleared his throat again, probably trying to remind Doyle he existed. “We’re prepared to pay an advance,” he said. “But we’ll want proof of your capabilities.”

Doyle glanced at him lazily, then back at Moiraine. Clearly, he’d decided she was the more intelligent part of the partnership, and Gareth was just the muscles. “Proof?” he echoed, swirling the brandy in his glass. “That’s tricky. Showing you how I move things… well, that’d be bad for business, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t be very discreet.”

Moiraine lifted her chin just a fraction. “You misunderstand us, Mr. Doyle,” she corrected. “We don’t need full details or routes. Merely a token. Say… a glimpse of what we’d be investing in. If you have these rumored papers at your disposal, show them to us. Just enough to ensure they’re not hearsay.”

The man took a slow sip. Siuan could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He was proud, cunning, and likely believed he had the upper hand. But he also knew flashing a taste of his goods might be just the thing to hook these so-called investors into a bigger deal.

Finally, his shoulders eased, settling into something that looked like confidence but smelled like calculation. “How about you give me a reason to trust you first?” he countered lightly. “Then maybe I’ll show you why my clients turn to me when they got cargo that can’t stand a bright light.”

Moiraine laughed softly, the sound refined and effortless. She then withdrew a small purse from her dress pocket, one stuffed with the banknotes Gareth had reluctantly provided that morning as prop. She placed it on the table with a controlled little thump. “A gesture of good faith,” she offered.

Doyle raised an eyebrow, swirling his drink once more before setting it aside. He plucked up the purse, flicked it open, and ran a slow thumb over the banknotes inside. “Not a bad start,” he allowed, though his tone stayed edged with caution.  

Gareth cleared his throat, trying to reclaim some footing in the conversation. “That’s just a taste. We need you to move bigger amounts… in the tens of thousands. But as the lady said, verifying the authenticity of your service would settle our nerves.”

For half a second, Ezra’s attention darted toward the polished trunk near the window, then back to Gareth, eyes sharp as razor wire. “You do realize,” he said slowly, “if you try anything… impulsive… my men will fill you all with lead faster than you can say ‘investment gone wrong.’” The subtle glare in his expression warned he wasn’t bluffing.

Gareth nodded, his own voice dropping to something calmer than his usual bluster. “We’ve no intention of rilin’ you, friend. But for a sum that size, we need proof we’re not throwin’ our money into a rumor mill.”

Doyle sighed theatrically, playing up the moment, but the shrewd glint never left his eye. “Well then,” he drawled. “But no sudden moves.” He nodded to one of his men. “Keep watch.”

He moved to the trunk, crouched, and slipped a key from his vest pocket. A smooth twist, and the lid popped open with a soft click. Siuan tried not to visibly crane her neck, but she saw a cluster of neatly folded suits, a few documents in a leather folder, and beneath them, a strongbox about the size of a large book. The man lifted it carefully, set it on top of the trunk, and fiddled with the latch.  

Siuan’s heart thumped painfully. This is the crucial moment. 

Beside her, Gareth shifted, practically vibrating with excitement. She almost expected him to drool.

“Not yet, you damn fool,” she thought, stifling the urge to elbow him in the ribs. Getting too eager now and the whole plan would unravel like cheap stitching.

Moiraine took a careful step forward, keeping her distance but angling herself enough to get a look inside. “That’s it?” she asked, feigning polite curiosity. “I wouldn’t expect such a small container for something so valuable.”

A faint smirk tugged at Ezra’s lips as he popped the latch. “Paper’s easy to move, especially when it’s not your standard banknote.” He raised the box’s lid, revealing a few thick envelopes tied with twine. He slid one of the documents free and held it up to Moiraine. “Go on,” he invited. “Have yourself a peek… but only from there.” 

“Most impressive, Mr. Doyle” she murmured, scanning the paper. “I believe we will do great business together.” Siuan wondered if Moiraine had the knowledge to tell real bonds from forgeries. In the end, it probably didn’t matter. Anything in that box would fetch a fortune on the black market.

Doyle smiled, though it never reached his eyes. “So,” he said smoothly. “Are you convinced enough to invest?”

Moiraine straightened with a nod. “I believe so.”

He let the strongbox rest on the open trunk, the lid still ajar. “Then let’s discuss the fine points, shall we?” He motioned toward the brandy. “I say we do it civilly - over a glass of brandy, or if you’re not partial to spirits, I’ve got tea.”  

“A small cup of tea woul-…” 

A sudden noise at the door. A faint creak of hinges. And the air froze.

Just like that, everything shifted.

Both guards reached for their holsters. Ezra’s smile vanished and his eyes glinted with raw suspicion. “What was that?” 

Lan moved instinctively, shifting to block the line of sight. “Probably just our man checking if we need anything,” he said calmly, voice pitched to soothe but the timing was too sharp and the tension too thick.

Siuan felt the slow burn of adrenaline spike in her veins. This was the moment everything would turn real ugly, wasn’t it? She braced herself, ready to see if any smooth talking could salvage the con - or if they’d all be shooting their way out of Strawberry’s fanciest suite before noon.

The big guard lunged, seized the doorknob, and yanked the door wide. There stood Thom, half-crouched in a stance that practically screamed ‘caught in the act’. The guard’s revolver was out in a blink. “What the… ??”

From the hall, Siuan could hear Maksim hissing, “Thom, watch it, you-”

Doyle’s eyes went cold, every hint of his previous oily courtesy vanishing behind narrowed lids. “More men?” he asked, voice stiff with suspicion as he drew his revolver. “What’s this about?”

The second guard lunged to follow suit, jerking out his own weapon and pointing it straight at Gareth. Lan started forward, only to stop short when the guard’s muzzle swung toward him. “Hands up!” came the barked command, hot with tension. “All of you, no sudden moves!”

The bottom dropped out of Siuan’s stomach. Even with a decade worth of cons behind them, it felt like no amount of sweet talk could defuse a room bristling with loaded guns. She raised her hands, heart clawing at her throat, her mind racing for some way - any way - to keep this from becoming a bloodbath.

“Nobody do anythin’ stupid,” she warned, the words scraping through clenched teeth.

Doyle clutched the strongbox against his side like a prized trophy, waving his revolver in a semicircle that swept over all four of them. “Tryin’ to jump me, are you?” he sneered. “Waltzing in here like big spenders, while your men skulk around the hall. Guess those fancy words of yours didn’t fool me for quite long enough.”

He shot Moiraine a glance, whose regal mask had cracks in it now, fear and frustration seeping through. Her eyes flicked to Siuan in a wordless question: What do we do now?

But Gareth let out a jagged breath that drew Doyle’s attention. Siuan’s heart lurched as she saw his fingertips inching toward his belt. 

“For the love of all that’s holy,” she screamed inside her head, “don’t you dare reach for that gun now!”

But Gareth, the idiot, kept going. The instant his hand moved lower, one of the guards roared, “You so much as twitch again and I’ll blow you in half!”  

Lan tried to intercede, voice taut. “Everyone, calm down! We can settle-”  

“Shut your mouth!” Doyle snarled, whipping the barrel toward Lan. Rage twisted his features until he looked more beast than man. “I’m the one to decide who settles what.”  

Silence strangled the room for one beat too long. Siuan’s gaze snapped to Gareth once more. Every nerve in her body prayed that the man would freeze. But instead, he locked his gaze on the strongbox like it might slip from Doyle’s grip if he didn’t seize it now. Her blood ran cold.

“Dammit, he’s still hungry for that loot…“

But before anything could happen, Doyle’s revolver suddenly swung to Moiraine. His lips curled. Hatred and bitter mockery dripped from his voice. “Lady Alys,” he spat the words like an insult. “I can’t have you whispering more lies.”

For one breathless instant, the entire world seemed suspended. Siuan watched his thumb pull back the hammer with a menacing click, muzzle aimed straight at Moiraine’s chest, his finger tightened on the trigger.

“No, no, no.“

Everything happened too fast for Siuan to think.

Actually, she didn’t even think - she moved, throwing herself bodily sideways and slamming Moiraine out of the line of fire. The thunder of the shot tore the air like a ripping canvas, and a sudden pain exploded in her ribs, stealing her breath in a single, searing flash.

Her legs gave out as air fled her lungs in a strangled wheeze, sending both women crashing onto the floor, the rug sliding beneath them. 

A second gunshot roared behind them, then a third and then shouting followed. The noise was deafening, but Siuan registered little beyond the flare of agony in her side and the frantic beat of her heart.

“Am I… shot? Where?”

She pressed a shaky hand to her ribcage and felt the hot, slick dampness soaking her waistcoat. 

“Is that… blood? My blood?”

She almost expected her limbs to stop working immediately, like a marionette with its strings cut. Instead, the throbbing pain flared from her ribcage, radiating outward with each erratic heartbeat. Spots danced at the edges of her vision, but her mind remained oddly clear - registering how chaos boiled all around them.

The room churned with shouting. Another shot blasted. Furniture smashed. Glass shattered - probably the fancy decanter going to pieces, judging by the sudden sharp tang of liquor mixing with gun smoke. Then Moiraine’s voice lanced through it all like a blade of pure panic.

“Siuan!”

She was by Siuan’s side in a heartbeat, pressing her hands down on the wound. “Stay with me,” she pleaded, frantic tears carving bright tracks on her cheeks.

Dazed, Siuan tried to scramble upright - no dice. Her limbs now felt like dead weight, and the sting in her side stole her strength. She fumbled for her revolver, fingers slick with blood, unable to close around the grip.

“Damn it… all…”

Her mind flickered with a desperate thought; they were outlaws. There was no respectable doctor waiting in the lobby to fix any of them up. They were always living a hair’s breadth from catastrophe, and it seemed like the bill had finally come due. The bleak humor of it almost made her laugh, if only coughing didn’t make her spit up blood.

Moiraine carefully lifted Siuan’s head onto her lap, voice quivering. “Breathe!” she begged, desperation warping each word. Her tears dripped onto Siuan’s face, tiny pinpricks of cold against the heat of her skin.

Siuan tried to.

Her chest heaved, but no real breath came, only a shallow pant that worsened the pain. A violent cough wracked her, and that was when she tasted it; it wasn’t the faint tang of a bitten lip, but a thick, metallic taste of internal damage. A fierce wave of nausea lurched up from her stomach, and she had to swallow back bile.

“Stay conscious,” she told herself. “Don’t you dare black out.” If she passed out, who’d protect her lover?

Somewhere ahead of her, Moiraine’s stricken face snapped into focus again, dark hair escaping pins, eyes red with tears. Normally so unreadable, the huntress now looked torn open. She was mouthing Siuan’s name or some half-formed prayer, but the words slipped away beneath the roaring in Siuan’s ears.

She tried to respond something – “It’s okay. I’m fine. Don’t cry.” - but all that rose in her throat was another thick bubble of blood. She choked it out, spattering across Moiraine’s dress.

Time lost all meaning. The moment crawled while everything else around them sped by. In the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Gareth scrambling toward the strongbox, hand pressed to a bleeding graze along his upper arm. His fancy suit looked torn and stained with something dark. Was that his own blood or someone else’s? She couldn’t tell. He muttered curses under his breath, the words lost in the chaos as gunfire sparked again.

Suddenly, Moiraine jolted.

She glanced up so fast that her hair whipped around her face. For an instant, Siuan saw that old steely glint in her eyes.

“Don’t!” she tried to croak out but she was trapped in her own silent prison of pain and fear.

The next heartbeat, Moiraine’s arms slid away from Siuan’s torso and the revolver she’d practiced with was in her hand.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Three shots rang out in rapid succession. The recoil kicked her shoulder back each time, tears still glistening but face hardened. 

Siuan couldn’t quite tell who Moiraine had just fired at. Who was left standing? Or was there another threat? She tried to twist and see if anyone was returning fire or falling, but her body rebelled at the attempt. She collapsed back onto the rug, moaning weakly.

Then another explosion of gunfire thundered, closer this time, sharper. It felt as though it tore a hole straight through Siuan’s skull. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pounding in her head, trying to block out the onslaught of sound.

When she pried them open again, she saw someone - a swirl of dark clothing, possibly black or midnight-blue - stagger backward. Her heart squeezed in terror. Who fell? Her vision doubled. Was that Moiraine? Couldn’t be. Right? Moiraine had been kneeling over her, but then again, Moiraine had turned away with her gun. Where was she standing now?

Desperation lit a fresh spark in Siuan. She tried to raise herself an inch, ignoring the burning agony in her side. If that was Moiraine, if she’d been taken a bullet, Siuan had to reach her somehow.

She got as far as bracing her elbow against the floor before the pain slammed back, forcing her against the floor. A fresh swell of blood trickled from her mouth, and she coughed until spots danced before her eyes.

“No, no, no - I can’t pass out now. Moiraine-”

She squeezed her eyes shut for half a heartbeat, then wrenched them open again, determined not to lose conscience. A pair of boots skidded into her line of sight, stepping over broken glass, the toe spattered with brandy - or maybe blood.

She squinted, trying to figure out whose boots they were. Gareth’s were polished black with silver tips. Lan’s had worn, scuffed edges. Moiraine’s, though elegant, had always looked sturdy enough for any terrain.

It was no use. The boots merged in a swirl of color as darkness pressed in like a flood. She heard Moiraine screaming her name, or maybe it was Lan… or maybe it was just her own imagination. Then the black void claimed her entirely, cutting off thought, sight, sound - everything.

“Moiraine! My love!” 

Chapter Text

Silence.

Not the quiet, peaceful kind. Not the kind that comes in a lazy afternoon, where wind hums through the trees or distant chatter flutters around a camp. No, this was a dead silence, one that only came after something terrible.

Siuan’s ears still rang from the thunder of gunshots, but now everything was muffled, like she had cotton packed inside her skull. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling above, a swirl of dust motes drifting through a lone beam of sunlight.

A groan built in her throat, but it barely made it past her lips. For one bewildered moment, she wasn’t sure if she had died, if maybe the bullet had found her heart instead of her lung. The ache in her side felt oddly distant now, dulled by shock. She blinked, and gradually, the world quit spinning.

She was still in that Strawberry hotel suite, or what remained of it; The fancy Persian rug, now soaked with blood. The table shattered near the window. The brandy pooling in shattered crystal. Bullet holes pocketing the far wall. The strongbox laying overturned, its bloody, crumpled bonds scattered like worthless scraps.

The memories played in a loop. A dozen times, she felt that shot, felt her knees slam the floor after the bullet had pierced her chest, carpet sliding under her boots. She heard Moiraine’s anguished cry, felt the sticky heat of her own blood soaking her clothes.

She blinked again, trying to gather her thoughts, but they refused to line up fully.

“…Focus, Siuan.” She forced her eyes across the wreckage, searching for someone, anyone.

First they landed on Gareth. He sprawled awkwardly near the window, eyes half-open but seeing nothing. A dark bloom stained his chest from the bullet wound that was carved into his chest.

For a moment, Siuan’s heart twisted. She and Gareth had been at each other’s throats for weeks, maybe months, maybe even half their lives. But despite all the times she’d cursed him for being greedy or manipulative, he had been family of sorts - a bastard father figure who’d scooped her off the streets, taught her how to draw a revolver and cheat at cards, how to survive in a world that never gave a damn.

A pressure built behind her eyes, half-guilt, half-shock. She turned away, swallowing the sudden sting of emotion. If Gareth was dead, what about everyone else? Lan? Maksim? Thom? More importantly, where was-

Moiraine.

Siuan saw her then, and her heart dropped like a lead anchor. She was crumpled near the bedframe, hair undone and splayed around her like dark ribbons. Her back rested awkwardly against the wood, and something glistened near her temple - a wet, red patch that glowed ominously even in the dusty light.

“No - no, no, no, that ain’t real…”

Siuan fought her way onto an elbow, ignoring how the motion lit her ribcage on fire. Moiraine’s face was partially turned toward the shadows, but Siuan saw enough; a small, round wound at the side of her head, still leaking a crimson trickle onto the floor. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted like she’d tried to speak in her final moment.

“Moiraine,” Siuan rasped, voice catching on a tremor she couldn’t hold back.

But the woman didn’t stir.

Nothing. Not a sound. Not a twitch of those delicate fingers.

Siuan’s heart stopped. A horrible, buzzing numbness spread through her veins. It was as if the world had slowed to a grinding halt. She tried to crawl forward, tears already burning in her eyes.

Her palm slipped in a slick patch of her own blood, and she pitched sideways, pain crippling her. The taste of copper filled her mouth, leftover from the gunshot that had taken her down. But she barely noticed. All that mattered was the silent figure ahead.

“Moiraine,” she pleaded again, louder this time, even as her lungs screamed for mercy. It seemed like the hush of the room almost made her words echo. “Don’t you do this. Don’t you dare go.” But the body remained dreadfully still.

With a surge of desperate will, Siuan gritted her teeth, forcing her body to obey when all it wanted was to collapse. Every inch across that floor felt like it cost her a year off her life. Still, she dragged herself across the few remaining feet. At last, she clutched Moiraine’s hand, finding it too limp and too cold. She eased herself closer and cradled the woman’s head, fingers tangling in the dark hair that had come loose from its pins.

Her gaze fell on that bullet wound, so brutally out of place on Moiraine’s refined features. A sob tore from Siuan’s chest, raw and broken. “I’m… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, words hitching. “I swore I’d keep you safe. I swore it…” The tears came harder now, mixing with the blood spatter on the floor. She pressed her forehead to Moiraine’s, ignoring the sticky warmth that met her brow.

A sudden rage spiked inside Siuan, so hot it nearly overwhelmed her. It churned with her grief until she was near shaking apart at the seams. The injustice of it, the cruelty that Moiraine, of all people - her strong, fierce, beautiful Moiraine - could be snuffed out. She ground her teeth, wanting to scream at the sky, at the earth, at Gareth’s dead body. And at her own failure. Her own goddamn failure. But she had no strength left for screams.

All she could do was cradle Moiraine, pressing her forehead gently against hers, chest heaving in ragged, painful bursts. “I‘m sorry,” she tried to say, but words failed.

Panic scuttled under Siuan’s skin like spiders. She swung her gaze around the ruined suite, praying to see someone still breathing. Gareth sprawled motionless. Lan, too - gone. Everyone - gone.

All of them were dead.

Terror and despair squeezed her heart like a vise, and she felt herself spiraling - maybe into her own death, maybe into sheer madness. A gray fog ate at the edges of her vision, beckoning her into oblivion.

“Let it happen,” came a low whisper that prickled every hair on Siuan’s neck. She froze. It was Moiraine’s mouth forming the words, but the voice… that wasn’t Moiraine. It was…

In shock, Siuan forced her gaze down. She found the huntress staring with lifeless eyes. Gone were Moiraine’s summer-creek blues, replaced with a muddy brown, dull and milky like frozen earth.

Brown, not blue. Brown, like…

“Marisa.”

The name burst from Siuan’s lips in a broken rasp. She dropped the body she was cradling, and it hit the boards with a sickening thud.

For a drawn-out second, the form just lay there. Then it jerked, limbs twisting unnaturally, like a puppet tugged by invisible strings, rising slowly.

Moiraine - no, this twisted vision of her – grinned madly, blood staining her teeth. “I told you, you’d kill her too,” hissed Marisa’s voice through Moiraine’s lips.

A strangled cry caught in Siuan’s throat, but she couldn’t force air up. Her chest locked, and nothing but a raw choke came out.

“Look what you have done.” The voice was contorted. “Another woman, another bullet in her head… you’re becoming unimaginative, Siuan.”

“No!” Siuan slammed her eyes shut and pressed her palms to her ears, desperate to drown out that voice, ignoring the burn tearing at her wounded side. “Make it stop.”

“Siuan!” That warped echo stabbed at her mind, over and over. “Look at us! Listen!”

She squeezed her eyes tighter, shoved her hands harder against her skull, teeth gnashing until she tasted copper. “Make it stop! make it stop! make it stop!”

“Siuan!”

A sudden rush of clarity tore through the suffocating dark, dragging her up, up, out.

At last, Siuan’s eyelids snapped open, and a whole new world greeted her sight. For a moment, all she saw was the pale, beige fabric of a tent. Where the hotel suite had been choking with blood and gloom, a gentle morning light filtered through the pale canvas surrounding her now. The tang of antiseptic replaced the reek of gun smoke and spilled brandy.

“Siuan!” A woman’s voice, low but urgent, cut through her dazed confusion. Cloth rustled as a figure bent over her, and Ryma came into focus, one steady hand on Siuan’s shoulder. “What in Sam Hill - what’s wrong?”

Siuan blinked rapidly, her brain feeling three steps behind. “She… she’s dead,” she croaked. She tried to twist onto her side and get up but nearly passed out from the flare of agony. A moan escaped her throat, half-caught in a cough that tasted of stale blood.

Ryma’s frown deepened. “She? What in the world are you talking about?”

“I- Where is-” Another cough racked Siuan’s body, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. “Moiraine. Where’s Moiraine?” The name clawed its way out, rough and desperate.

“Moiraine?” The medic seemed confused. “She’s fine. Easy now, Sanche – you’ll rip your stitches if you keep moving around.”

“She’s… fine,” Siuan echoed. The abrupt shift from horror to safety wrenched her mind sideways. Only seconds ago, she’d been in the ravaged hotel suite, staring at Moiraine’s body with a bullet in her skull. Now she lay on a cot inside their makeshift infirmary, bandaged and bound, with Ryma urging her to stay calm.

A sob of raw relief threatened to spill free, tangling with the memory of that awful dream - or vision, or whatever had seized her. She clutched at the fresh dressings over her ribs, verifying they were real. The linens pressed snug around her torso, stinging just enough to remind her she was very much alive.

Ryma sighed, eyes flicking briefly toward the entrance. “It’s good you’re awake. The gang needs direction from somebody they trust. Gareth didn’t make it.” Her tone shifted, turning matter-of-fact, but that didn’t blunt the blow.

Siuan watched the medic with wide eyes, trying to process her words. She exhaled shakily, relief and sorrow crashing into her chest at the same time. Gareth was gone, no dream that. Regardless of her complicated feelings for the man who had just as often used her for tough jobs and tossed her scraps, that knowledge pelted her with an unexpected ache.

“So that’s real,” she whispered.

“What’s that?” 

Siuan shook her head slowly, her vision still swimming. “I… I dreamt a whole mess of things. Gareth, Lan, Moiraine… all dead. It felt so damned real.” She swiped a shaky hand over her face, as though she could wipe away the lingering images.

Ryma’s features softened with sympathy. “You nearly died, so it doesn’t surprise me you had nightmares. Fever dreams do that.” She paused to grab a cup from the rickety table. Siuan watched through a haze as she tipped a few drops from a small vial into the water, then lifted it to Siuan’s lips. “Here, sip. It’ll help.”

The liquid tasted faintly of tin and something bitter, but it cooled Siuan’s parched throat. She slumped back onto the cot, trying to make sense of everything. Her eyes flicked around. A small stove sat near the entrance, flames crackling low. Medical supplies, bandages, jars of herbal salves, lay organized on a wooden table. “How bad is it?” she asked.

Ryma let out a breath. “Bad enough. You were out three days, lost a bucket of blood. The bullet tore up your ribs, left shards all through the muscle. You got a raging fever that near about ended you. Lan practically hovered over me while I picked you back together. After all the… Strawberry fiasco, no respectable doc around here’s gonna lend a hand to a bunch of outlaws.” She shrugged wearily. “But you’re a stubborn one, and we got you sewed up in time. Could’ve gone either way.”

“Thank you, Ryma.” Siuan’s voice cracked, exhaustion weighing on each syllable. Three whole days lost to darkness. Three days in which the nightmares could’ve been fact. “And Moiraine…” Her question trailed off, but the plea behind it stayed loud and clear.

“She’s all right,” Ryma repeated, patting Siuan’s arm carefully. “Shaken to the core, from what I’ve seen, but not physically hurt.” A subtle flicker in her eyes revealed she was measuring her words, maybe uncertain how much to say. “Give it time. It’ll be a while before she’s herself again, I’d wager. But better alive than six feet under, yes?”

Siuan exhaled sharply, but the feeling knotting her throat wasn’t pure relief - she couldn’t quite pin down what it was. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, yet she bit them back.

“You need to rest now, you hear me?” Ryma said, rising smoothly from her stool and running a careful hand over the tent flap. “I know you’re bullheaded as they come, but I had one hell of a time stitching you up, and I’m not looking to do it again.”

“I hear you,” Siuan murmured, even as her mind kept spinning like a rattled compass, and her heart pounded stubbornly against the ache in her ribs.

“I’ll bring some more water, maybe some soup,” Ryma added, pausing at the flap. “Stay put this time, alright?” With that, she slipped out, and the canvas swayed closed behind her, leaving Siuan alone with the flickering lantern light and the steady throb in her side. She breathed in slow, forcing herself to let go of the dream’s lingering horror. Sooner or later, she’d see Moiraine walking and talking, and this whole nightmare would die in the dust.

Time blurred - maybe hours, maybe just minutes - lost to the haze of whatever morphine-laced tonic Ryma had given her. But the next time Siuan blinked awake, the tent walls glowed with late-afternoon light. Her body still ached, but the pain felt more like a heated pulse than a stabbing knife. At least the medicine was working.

A subtle movement near the entrance drew her attention, and Lan stepped inside with careful footsteps. He wore the same dusty tunic Siuan recognized from a hundred gunfights, and though his expression remained steady, the faint crease in his brow suggested worry. She tried to curl her lips into the sort of cocky grin she used to manage without thinking, but pain tightened her side and twisted it into a tight grimace instead.

He inclined his head. “I see you’re finally awake.”

Siuan gave a dry snort. “So it would seem. Not sure if I should be grateful or pissed the bullet didn’t finish me off.”

Lan let out a short huff. “Ryma would give you an earful if she heard that. We need you alive.”

Siuan took a steadying breath, cringing at the pull in her side. “You want me up and about? Because I can sure try, but I’ll probably faceplant.”

He shook his head. There was a slight softness to his gaze, subtle but unmistakable. “No. Stay put for once. I’m just here to tell you I’m glad you pulled through.”

The words sent a tightness through her chest. “Yeah, me too, I guess. Jury’s still out on whether I should be celebratin’ or cursin’ my luck.” A flicker of memory hijacked her thoughts - Gareth sprawled lifeless, blood soaking his suit. “Ryma said he… didn’t make it.”

Lan shook his head. “No. Doyle shot him in the chaos. At least that’s how it looked. Might’ve been a stray bullet. Either way, by the time I got there, he was gone.” He paused, measuring his words. “I know you two had… your differences, but there was history.” Lan studied her, but didn’t offer any meaningless condolences. She appreciated that.

A quiet lull settled, both of them lost in memories better left behind. Finally, Lan cleared his throat. “There’s something else you need to know.”

Siuan’s lips thinned. “Oh yeah?”

“It’s about the gang. Gareth was the boss in name, even if most folks had mixed feelings about him. With him gone, the men and women out there…” He paused, crossing the tent to stand closer. “They’re lookin’ to you now, Siuan.”

She blinked, then laughed - a sharp, wheezing sound that made her wince as pain jolted through her ribs. “Funny,” she rasped.

Lan didn’t so much as crack a grin. Siuan eyed him warily. “You’re serious.”

The man offered a mild shrug. “You were his right hand. And you… well,” his gaze flicked meaningfully to the bandages around her torso. “You’ve got leadership in your bones, even if you never asked for it. Even Gareth saw that, for all his flaws.”

Siuan coughed, more from surprise than anything else. “Hell, what a joke. I can’t so much as roll over without seein’ stars, and they want me callin’ the shots?”

Lan’s tone stayed even, as if he’d prepared this speech. “It doesn’t have to be right this minute. The point is, folks are getting restless. Some think you’ll step up, hold them together, others figure you’ll do the smart thing and get out. But the truth is, the gang’s in freefall without someone holding the reins. Gareth’s last job was a debacle, but at least we got our hands on some of those bonds. People are hungry for a leader who might-” he paused, choosing his words “-invest wisely. Make sure all this wasn’t just blood spilled for nothing.”

Siuan felt a headache forming behind her eyes. She shut them for a second, waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass. “I’ll worry about that tomorrow,” she muttered. A twinge of guilt pricked her gut. Once, she might have called these outlaws her family, but Gareth’s vaulting ambition had led them into one near-disaster too many. And her priorities had shifted, too.

Lan dipped his head. “Understood.” He glanced toward the tent flap, then back at Siuan. “Moiraine’s been lurking around here, you know,” he said quietly. “Pacing the camp, never straying too far from this tent.”

“She has?” Her pulse kicked up, pain be damned. “She hasn’t come in.” It stung to realize dawn had broken without a glimpse of Moiraine at her bedside.

“She’s in shock,” Lan explained. “Thinks this is all her fault, that you getting shot is on her.” He sighed then, the sound heavy with unspoken frustration. “I told her it’s nonsense, but she’s afraid to see you in this state. And worried she’ll do more harm than good. The two of you…” He paused, as if gauging how far he could push. “I don’t presume to know the intricacies of your relationship, but it’s obvious she cares more than just a little about you.”

Siuan’s cheeks warmed, and a part of her wanted to deny it. She shrugged, ignoring how it tugged at her bandages. “I just want her safe and sound. Moiraine does what she wants, and I do what I want. Sometimes we end up on the same trail.” Her voice wobbled despite her attempts at nonchalance.

Lan didn’t press further. He simply studied her a moment longer, then nodded. “I’ll send her your regards if she’s out there pacing. You just focus on recovering… boss.”

Her brows knitted, half offense, half humor. “Don’t call me that,” she groused, but he only gave a fleeting smile as he slipped through the tent flap into the last bits of daylight.

Time dragged by in a drowsy blur. Ryma came and went, feeding Siuan bitter tonics that dulled her mind and made her eyelids heavy. Every so often, she sank into restless dozes, nightmares pecking at the edges of her mind. Moiraine’s face from that twisted dream still haunted her. She’d jerk awake each time, heart hammering, clawing for a sense of reality.

In one such doze, she drifted into a memory; Gareth leaning over a creaking table, bragging about a big haul they’d be planning, then tossing her a handful of coins with a crooked grin. He’d always said she had potential, that she wasn’t just another petty pickpocket. The memory left her feeling hollow.

“Damn you, Gareth,” she mumbled into the swirling darkness. “Damn you for gettin’ too greedy.”

She dozed off again, drifting on the tide of pain and half-lucid dreams, until a soft rustle pulled her back. Someone else was in the tent, she could sense it through half-lowered lids. She cracked her eyes open, half expecting Ryma with another dose to drug her into oblivion, but the figure didn’t match the medic. Long, dark hair pinned in a hasty twist, a blue coat almost black in the dim. Siuan’s heart kicked.

Moiraine.

Finally.

Neither of them spoke at first. The huntress stood frozen near the tent flaps, shoulders taut. Even in the low lantern light, Siuan could see the shadows beneath her eyes. Moiraine looked as though she’d aged a year in those past three days. Her eyes were tired and reddened, probably from losing sleep, probably from crying, or probably from a combination of both. The woman’s usual poise felt absent, and only a fragile uncertainty remained in its place.

Siuan tried to lever herself upright, but a raw bolt of pain shot through her ribs. She hissed under her breath, and that tiny sound seemed to shatter the paralysis in Moiraine.

In a rush, she moved forward and dropped to her knees beside the cot. “You idiot,” she choked out. “You stupid, reckless, impossible idiot.”

Siuan’s own throat felt like it was closing up. She wrapped her hand around Moiraine’s trembling fingers, forcing a shaky grin. “Hey, now. I’m all in one piece… mostly.” Her voice sounded painfully hoarse, but she tried to smile. “What about you? Are you-” The memory of that nightmare reared up once more, Moiraine with a bullet through her skull, and she forcibly shoved it aside.

Moiraine’s eyes shut, tears slipping past dark lashes. “I’m fine,” she whispered, though the tremor in her tone told another story. “You almost weren’t. They said you lost so much blood-” Her next words broke on a sob as she pressed Siuan’s knuckles to her lips in a desperate gesture.

“Easy now. Don’t cry,” Siuan murmured, fingers drifting through Moiraine’s hair. Her ribs protested the movement, but she didn’t care. “I’m here. Still kickin’, ain’t I?”

Moiraine pulled in a ragged breath, struggling to steady herself. “When they told me how bad it was… I thought-” She swallowed, meeting Siuan’s gaze with rimmed, reddened eyes. “I thought I’d already lost you. And it’d be my fault. If I’d just paid more attention or done something different-”

Siuan cut her off with a quiet snort. “We both know it’s not on you. Gareth pushed his luck and took us along for the ride. Don’t beat yourself up for someone else’s damn fool plans.”

Moiraine’s face crumpled again, tears welling even as she leaned in to plant another unsteady kiss on Siuan’s knuckles. Then she eased onto the edge of the cot, moving carefully as if a single jolt might shatter them both. “I- Siuan, I… my life would be empty if I lost you,” she said brokenly, her grip tightened around Siuan’s hand. “Promise me you won’t ever scare me like that again.”

A lopsided smirk tugged at Siuan’s mouth, despite the ache in her side. “Not sure I can control the path of lead, but for you, I’ll give it my best.” She brushed a thumb over Moiraine’s cheek, catching a tear before it fell. Moiraine leaned into her touch, placing her own hand over Siuan’s and giving a light squeeze.

A scrape of boots at the tent flap jerked them both alert. Lantern light spilled across the canvas. Moiraine froze, clearly torn between staying and leaping back to save face.

Too late.

Lan entered with a small basin of water and fresh bandages cradled in his arms. “Ryma mentioned you might need…” he stopped, clearly realizing he’d walked in on something private.

The air crackled with an awkward tension. Siuan’s heart thudded. She remembered Lan’s earlier half-question about the nature of their relationship, his attempt to parse out just how close they really were. Well, he probably had his answer spelled out right here.

Moiraine sniffed and tried to hastily compose herself, but there was no hiding her blotchy cheeks or the tears still shining in her eyes. Lan’s gaze shifted between them, and understanding flickered in his eyes before he turned away with careful discretion. He set the basin down off to one side of the tent. “I’ll, ah, just leave these here for Ryma,” he offered.

Siuan cleared her throat, fighting a fresh jolt of pain. “Thanks.”

Lan busied himself arranging the bandages, pointedly not looking at either of them. “If you need anything, holler,” he added, voice low. “I’ll be right outside, making sure nobody else barges in.”

“Appreciate it,” Siuan mumbled.

He tipped his head in acknowledgment, then slipped out, the canvas flap falling shut behind him. A hush settled over the tent, broken only by the faint stirrings of camp outside. The huntress stared at the spot where Lan had been, her hands twisting anxiously in her lap. “He saw.”

Siuan exhaled, halfway between a laugh and a groan. “He’s known we’re close for a while, I suspect. Or he had an inkling. Don’t think we’re ‘bout to be judged, anyway. That fella’s about as discreet as they come.”

“Right…” Moiraine’s pink cheeks gradually lost some of their flush, and she turned back to Siuan with fresh concern. “You’re still feverish. I can see it.” She glanced over the bandages, worry carved on her features. “And you’re in pain.”

“Hurtin’ like the devil, no lie,” Siuan admitted, cracking a pained smirk. “But seein’ you up and breathin’ does a hell of a lot more for me than any tonic Ryma’s been pourin‘ down my throat.”

Moiraine’s lower lip trembled. She swallowed visibly, tears threatening again. “I’ll stay,” she whispered. “As long as you’ll have me.”

Siuan shifted her weight, ignoring the twinge in her ribs, and let herself sink into the warmth of Moiraine’s presence. “Done deal, lady,” she said softly. “But I reckon you’ll have to stay forever.”

Chapter Text

Siuan coughed. A ragged, rattling burst that scraped like sandpaper across her lungs. She pressed a clenched fist against her chest, waiting for the ache to ease and swallowing back the metallic tang of blood that crept up her throat.

She was back on her feet by now, sure, but not without a price. Every so often, she’d cough up half a lung, ribs practically on fire. Ryma kept fussing with herbs and syrups, Moiraine too, but neither remedy had managed to banish that scratchy rattle from her throat. She’d even spat blood once or twice, but kept that to herself. Folks around camp already stared too long whenever she hacked into her sleeve; no sense giving them more reason to panic.

Siuan pushed herself upright from the stack of crates she'd been leaning against. Morning sunlight filtered softly through the tall trees, dappling the muddy clearing in pale gold, warming the air enough to coax the earthy scent of spring from damp soil.

Usually, she didn’t give a damn about the changing seasons, might've even scoffed at folks for getting all dreamy-eyed about fresh blossoms and tender grass shoots poking through frostbitten ground. But waking up with an extra hole in her side could shift a woman's priorities fast. If nearly bleeding out didn’t earn someone the right to get a little reflective, nothing would. Now, every sunrise felt like stolen goods, something she hadn’t earned but wasn’t about to waste.

Adjusting her coat with a grunt, she took in the shrinking cluster of tents and wagons that ringed the main fire. Fewer now, much fewer. Gareth’s exit from this world had shaken the gang more than they’d ever admit aloud. Quite a few had slipped away quietly, riding off into the wind with their small cut from the Strawberry fiasco and hopes of something better - something safer than this life had to offer.

Not that Siuan blamed them. Hell, she’d been itching to leave herself, even had promised Moiraine. But for the moment, folks needed someone to keep the peace and stop the place from imploding. And somehow, against all odds and better judgment, that someone had ended up being her.

She hadn’t wanted it, never asked for the burden of leadership. But Gareth’s bullet-ridden corpse hadn’t even started rotting before the gang had begun casting desperate eyes her way, searching for answers she didn't rightly have. At least temporarily, she’d agreed to steer them clear of falling apart at the seams. Maybe it was stubborn pride or sheer stupidity. Either way, she was now holding the reins - at least long enough to fully heal, to breathe again without tasting blood.

A sudden crunch of gravel spun Siuan around fast enough that her ribs sang in sharp protest. Her fingers twitched toward the revolver at her hip, easing only when she caught sight of Alanna strolling casually toward her, sunlight catching on the weathered hems of her green leather duster.

“Easy now,” Alanna drawled, lips quirking into a crooked, teasing grin as she lifted her hands half-heartedly. “It’s just me. No need to fill me with lead quite yet.”

Siuan let out a tense breath, dropping her hand away from the weapon with a muttered curse. “Dammit, Alanna. Keep sneakin’ up like that and you’re liable to get your hide ventilated one of these days.” She gave the woman a pointed look. “You know how it is… Pinkertons sniffin’ around after that mess in Strawberry.”

Alanna’s eyes flashed warmly with amusement. "I'll keep that in mind, boss," she teased lightly, then her expression shifted, growing more serious. "We still headin' out Monday for supplies? Coffee’s about run dry, and half the crew’s fixin’ to riot if they don't get their mornin’ brew."

“Boss.”

Sweet sky above, Siuan would never get used to hearing that title thrown her way. She bit back an eye roll, spine stiffening slightly with reluctant acceptance.

“Yeah,” she finally said, rubbing absently at the persistent ache in her ribs. “Tell ’em to hold their damn horses. Monday it is. Ain’t nobody gonna die just ’cause they missed their morning brew.”

Alanna chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow. "You sure about that? Seen Thom earlier - face like thunder. Pretty sure he's 'bout ready to shoot someone just for breathin’ too loud.”

Siuan shook her head, smirking faintly at the mental image. “Let him complain. Keeps the blood pumpin’.” She straightened, forcing back another cough that burned like hellfire in her throat. “You and the boys load up the wagon, get ready for the run. Bring Thom along, too. Keep the bastard busy.” Her gaze flicked across camp instinctively, wary of trouble lurking.

“Got it, boss.” Alanna’s shoulders relaxed, her posture easing back into casual ease. “Knew we could count on you.” She lingered for a second, almost like she wanted to say something more, but instead just tipped her head and walked off.

Siuan squared her shoulders, continuing through the cluster of wagons and tents until she spotted Lan leaning against a battered crate, ledger open in his hands. He lifted his chin slightly in acknowledgment as she approached.

“How we sittin’?” she asked, tipping her chin at the pages he held.

“Inventory lines up well,” Lan replied, voice calm as ever. “We’re short on some basics. You covered that with Alanna?”

“Sure did.” Another cough clawed its way out of her chest, forcing her to turn away sharply, fighting to control the fit before she splattered him with something worse than embarrassment. Damn cough won’t quit. When she straightened again, Siuan forced a casual tone. “All set for Monday?”

Lan closed the ledger, studying her with that thoughtful look he got sometimes. “We will be. And you?”

“I’m ridin’ out, too,” she answered, ignoring the way his brows knitted. “Me and Moiraine. Goin’ up to the Grizzlies. Checkin’ in on those herds near O'Creagh's, see if we can bag some decent game.” Her jaw tightened slightly, fighting the urge to look away from Lan’s penetrating gaze. “Might calm folks down some, bringin’ back fresh venison.”

He continued studying her. “You sure you can handle that long a ride?”

A raspy chuckle broke free, followed by another cough she barely tamped down. “Don’t see why not. I’m nearly as fit as before.” A half-truth - no, a damn lie, actually. She lifted her chin, defiant. “Moiraine’s got her heart set on seein’ those mountains again, and I-” need some break from all these pityin’ looks “-reckon the mountain air will do me good. Only two days. Three if the huntin’ is decent.”

“Alright.” Lan gave her a meaningful look. “Just watch yourself out there.”

Siuan tapped the crate behind him. “We’ll manage. You keep a lid on things here while I’m gone. Anyone starts stirrin’ trouble…”

Lan’s eyes revealed a flash of wry humor. “They won’t, but I’ll handle it.”

Satisfied, she clapped Lan once on the shoulder and continued her slow path through the camp.

Ever since Strawberry, nothing felt quite the same. Gareth was cold now, buried, and not missed nearly as much as he probably should’ve been. Part of her felt guilty about the relief she felt, but she couldn’t deny it was there. That man had always been too shrewd for everyone’s good, too eager to dig around and uncover secrets. Another week alive, and he’d have begun peeling back layers she and Moiraine had worked too hard to keep hidden.

That scheme back in Strawberry had blurred dangerously close to revealing Moiraine’s true nature - closer than anyone besides the two of them realized. There was a reason she had carried herself like royalty; she was royalty. And Gareth, with all his suspicious stares, had almost caught on.

A flicker of movement yanked Siuan out of those grim thoughts. Speak of the devil. Moiraine stood quietly at the edge of camp, stroking the neck of her sleek white mare. Her own horse now, bought fair and square with her share of that con money. The creature nudged playfully at Moiraine’s hand, begging shamelessly for another sugar cube. Her answering smile brightened the muddy clearing brighter than the morning sun.

Seeing her like that, relaxed and almost carefree, felt impossible sometimes. It was difficult reconciling the gentle woman who charmed horses with treats with the enigmatic figure who secretly bore the heaviest bounty this side of the Dakota River. But at least that hunt had cooled for now, thanks to Siuan’s sleight of hand with the gang’s search parties… and Gareth’s permanent absence.

She ambled closer, tipping her hat with a playful flourish. “Howdy, ma’am. Spoilin’ your new girl with sugar again?”

Moiraine glanced up quickly, the subtle tension in her shoulders easing the instant she recognized Siuan’s voice. “A single piece,” she answered primly, but the warmth in her tone gave her away. “She deserves it. The ride up the mountain will be trying, and I want her in good spirits.”

Siuan snorted softly and gave her own mare a firm pat on the flank. “Mine’s got a gut of iron but a head as empty as a busted jug. Long as she gets her feed, she’s happy.”

Her smirk dissolved abruptly into another coughing fit, sharp and rasping enough to burn fire through her lungs and blur her vision.

Moiraine’s smile faltered. “Siuan…”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t go fussin’.” Yet the concern in Moiraine’s eyes made her inwardly relent. “I’ll live,” she added more gently. “Don’t you worry.”

“You know I will worry,” Moiraine murmured, stepping closer and laying a gentle hand on Siuan’s forearm. “No matter how many times you tell me otherwise.”

Their gazes locked, and there it was again; that tiny crease between Moiraine’s brows that hadn’t really faded since the day Siuan nearly bled out onto a fancy carpet. Something had shifted in Moiraine after Strawberry, leaving behind a scar of memory that still occasionally tightened her face, but at least now it wasn’t raw as an open wound anymore.  

“C’mon,” Siuan murmured, suddenly desperate to chase away the ghosts haunting Moiraine’s expression. She resisted the urge to cup the other woman’s cheek, choosing instead to turn her attention toward the horses. “Let’s saddle up.”

Half an hour later, they rode out. Flat, open plains soon yielded to rolling foothills dotted with pines that thickened as they climbed toward the Grizzlies. The air here was fresher, tinged with the crisp scent of thawing earth and damp evergreen. Riding again felt good, almost freeing - even if each jostle of the saddle reminded Siuan sharply of her injury.

Moiraine rode confidently ahead, guiding her new mare with the same graceful ease that left Siuan half-admiring, half-smirking. The trail was muddied and uneven with melting snow, but manageable as long as they didn’t rush. Siuan recognized each familiar bend, every hidden clearing. She knew exactly where Moiraine was leading them; right up to that isolated cabin of hers.

“Been a while since you’ve been up here, huh?” Siuan said after a while, leaning forward in the saddle to give her complaining ribs a break.

Moiraine brushed a hand over her horse’s neck, her gaze distant on the rolling green ridges. “Too long. I sometimes wondered if I’d ever come back.” She shrugged, voice gone wistful. “Life’s twisting roads have a habit of leading us back, though.”

Siuan sniffed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

As they climbed higher into the foothills, the path narrowed, winding slowly upward into denser woods. Moiraine’s voice occasionally broke the silence, pointing out landmarks; a half-fallen pine twisted into a serpent’s shape, a clearing where wildflowers would soon bloom vividly in purples and blues.

Siuan listened, strangely at ease. She silently recalled how she used to hate these mountains - too lonely, too rugged, too easy to get lost in. Yet now, with Moiraine riding beside her, the rugged peaks felt almost comforting, like an embrace she hadn’t known she needed.

At last, they reached a ridge that overlooked the cabin. Siuan recognized its pitched roof and the stand of pine around it, no longer cloaked in winter’s severity. Now, patches of grass peeked through retreating snow, the trees alive with bird calls. The cabin itself - with its weathered logs and leaning porch - stood sturdy and unchanged, just as Siuan remembered it.

Moiraine pulled her horse to a halt, staring for several long breaths.

“Looks like it held up,” Siuan offered gently, sensing the complex swirl of emotion beneath Moiraine’s carefully composed expression. She knew that this cabin held memories; some good, some painful, all complicated. “Made it through winter just fine.”

“Yes,” Moiraine murmured at length, almost reverently, still staring at the cabin. She finally blinked, shaking herself out of the trance. “Let’s get settled in.”

They tethered the horses near a spindly pine and approached the porch. The old boards groaned and creaked under their boots but held firm. Moiraine paused to retrieve a small, hidden key from above the doorframe and pushed it firmly into the rusted lock. The mechanism resisted stubbornly before surrendering with a protesting groan as the door swung open.

Dust, stale air, and old memories rushed out to greet them as Moiraine stepped into the cabin, fingertips trailing over a warped windowsill as if testing for the pulse of the place. Siuan lingered behind, quietly closing the door and leaning her rifle against the wall, eyes adjusting to the gentle, golden glow filtering through the heavy air.

Everything was exactly how she remembered it; simple, sturdy furniture, well-worn and patiently awaiting their return. Yet, even beneath layers of neglect, the cabin exuded an unexpected warmth, like a fond memory waiting to be blown clear of cobwebs.

She took a slow breath, savoring the silence - the same quiet that’d spooked her the first time she stumbled through this very doorway all those moons ago. Back then, she’d been more concerned with survival than noticing the peace under this roof. Back then, the cabin’s solitude had felt like another threat. Now it settled over her shoulders, peaceful as a familiar blanket draped across aching limbs.

Home.

That was what it was, she realized, though the thought felt oddly tender. Even though this cabin belonged rightfully to Moiraine, Siuan felt the comforting pull of its walls, its familiar scents, the subtle creak of timber beneath her feet. It welcomed her far more than any gang hideout or cramped backroom ever had, as though the walls breathed the same stories that had etched themselves into her skin. And one of those stories - the best - had a name. Moiraine.

Yet the woman in question moved through the space cautiously, her shoulders set and her lips a thin line. Her gaze flickered subtly over familiar corners and pieces of furniture, lingering only briefly before quickly sliding away, as though each glance risked disturbing a ghost.

“You okay?” Siuan asked gently, moving closer. In the mellow afternoon light, Moiraine’s profile was starkly beautiful, but drawn tight, tension visible in every careful movement.

The huntress hesitated, seemingly caught between honesty and the safety of silence. “I… yes. I’ve missed this place.” She shook her head, a faint, self-conscious grimace pulling at her lips. “It’s foolish to be so sentimental.”

“Ain’t nothin’ foolish about wantin’ to see your own four walls,” Siuan replied softly, laying a reassuring hand on her lover‘s shoulder.

Moiraine’s exhale was shaky. “Part of me expected it to be… gone, after everything.” Her eyes found Siuan’s, carrying a wistful gleam.

Siuan opened her mouth to reply but the words died as a hacking cough tore through her chest, forcing her to bend over. “Dammit,” she rasped when she finally caught her breath.

Instantly, Moiraine was at her side, rubbing her back. “Have you told Ryma it’s not improving?”

“She knows,” Siuan managed hoarsely, forcing more air back into her aching lungs. “Says it’ll pass eventually.” She tried a crooked smile.

Moiraine studied her quietly, lips pressed tight, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to press further. Finally, she drew a breath, offering gently, “I’ll make you some tea.” She stepped toward the windows, reaching for the shutters. “But first, let’s chase out this stale air. We should light a fire, too. These mountains don’t care if spring’s on the calendar, the nights are still cold.”

Grateful for the practical suggestion, Siuan nodded. While Moiraine pushed open the stubborn shutters, letting in fresh air, Siuan moved slowly around the main room and propped the front door slightly ajar, allowing a gentle breeze to stir the stillness inside. Her side protested as she knelt to stack logs carefully into the fireplace, but she pushed through it, coaxing a spark until flames crackled softly to life.

As warmth spread from the hearth, chasing away the last chill lingering in the walls, the huntress moved quietly through the cabin, tidying what she could. A few times, she paused to point out an old scorch mark on the floor or the faint shape of a carving by the hearth that her father once made. At those moments, her expression flickered between fondness and sorrow, but altogether, she said little and kept conversation brief, as if lingering too long might unravel something fragile within her.

After a while, the cabin finally began to shed its abandoned feel. Moiraine had methodically cleared away layers of dust and neatly stacked the clutter, leaving the room inviting in its simplicity. She paused, surveying her work with a faint air of satisfaction, but Siuan noticed the way the air around her seemed to tighten, like an invisible wall suddenly building itself brick by brick.

By the time a kettle was hung over the fire, the late afternoon sun had burned down to a rich gold, painting streaks of amber across the floorboards. With practiced care, the huntress reached into one of the countless little glass jars she kept, sprinkling dried tea leaves into the steaming water. Then her gaze drifted to the window, her eyes fixed on something distant, far beyond the trees and mountains outside.

“You sure you’re alright?” Siuan pressed gently once more, noticing how the other woman was lost again in thoughts that clearly stretched far beyond the immediate moment.

Moiraine’s mouth curved into a tight smile, one meant to reassure, though it couldn’t quite erase the sadness still shadowing her eyes. “I am,” she murmured. “It’s just… too many memories at once.” She drew a slow breath, pulling herself deliberately away from the window, as though fearing what she'd find if she stared too long. “Let’s eat, and then we can…” She hesitated. “Rest. You've earned a break after all that riding.”

A faint flicker of disappointment stirred in Siuan’s chest. A part of her had secretly hoped Moiraine might suggest something else. That she'd admit openly she needed comfort, closeness, or even just words to soothe away whatever darkness gripped her thoughts. But Siuan knew better than to push; Moiraine, stubborn and proud as ever, needed her own careful rhythm.

“Sure, sounds good” she said instead, forcing casual ease into her voice as she sank into an old wooden chair. "Ain't gonna say no to restin' these tired bones."

“Hungry?” Moiraine asked, rummaging through their saddlebags. “We’ve got bread, salted meat,“ she listed, then paused as genuine surprise brightened her expression. “Holy mother, a can of pears in syrup. Lan or Alanna must’ve slipped that in for us.”

Siuan chuckled softly. “Well, guess they got their moments after all.”

They ate together in easy silence, the thick sweetness of the pears a luxurious contrast to salted meat and crumbly bread softened by tea. The shadows lengthened steadily as the evening settled around them.

Eventually, Moiraine set her plate aside, staring absently down at her hands. “I'm sorry I've been so… withdrawn. It's just that coming back here…" She faltered, glancing away, words dissolving before they formed fully. “It’s just…being here after everything that happened, after Strawberry… It’s a lot.”

Siuan leaned closer, her hand gently finding Moiraine’s across the table, fingers intertwining, offering warmth without demanding anything in return. “I know, my sweet,” she murmured, her thumb brushing slow circles over Moiraine’s knuckles. "Trust me, I do."

Moiraine’s breathing shuddered gently at the touch, and her lips parted as if words hovered just beyond her reach. “The memories won’t leave me be,” she confessed quietly. “I can still hear the shot, see the blood. I see your face.”

Siuan’s chest tightened, hearing the quiet ache woven through her lover‘s words. “I’m right here,” she whispered firmly, her thumb continuing its soothing rhythm, over and over. “We both made it out. And we'll keep remindin' each other of that, long as we gotta."

A visible weight seemed to lift from Moiraine’s shoulders then, as if those simple words were permission to finally exhale. “Maybe I’m just…tired,” she whispered. Then her eyes searched Siuan’s, tentative yet yearning, as though unsure how to ask for what she truly needed. “Let’s go to bed? Let’s do something to…” She paused, teeth grazing her lower lip thoughtfully, vulnerable. “To feel something beyond fear.” There was something in her eyes, a need to drown – or at least quiet - the memory of that near loss.

Siuan’s heartbeat quickened at Moiraine’s implication, sending warmth rushing beneath her skin. No matter how many nights they'd spent tangled together under blankets, moments like this always set her pulse racing and nerves buzzing.

She simply nodded, letting out a shaky breath.

Slowly, they rose from the table and crossed into the bedroom, movements slow and careful, as if afraid hasty gestures might shatter the fragile peace they’d just found.

Moiraine turned the lantern’s wick low, filling the room with a gentle glow, before unbuttoning her blouse and carefully slipping out of her riding pants. The chemise beneath shimmered faintly against her pale skin, capturing the delicate light until it seemed woven from silver and shadows.

Siuan swallowed thickly as she clumsily unbuckled her belt and slipped out of her pants with less elegance, conscious of Moiraine’s gaze lingering appreciatively on her. Warmth flushed along her neck, tingling pleasantly beneath her skin.

The huntress eased onto the bed first, settling into the mattress gracefully, eyes quietly following Siuan as she joined her beneath the blankets. Facing each other, knees gently brushing beneath soft layers of fabric, they paused, simply breathing each other in.

“Lavender.”

In this proximity, it was more a taste than a scent, drawing forth a thousand sweet moments Siuan had carefully stored away. She closed her eyes briefly, savoring this closeness, until the faintest brush of fingertips feathered along her cheek, impossibly soft.

“You smell like home,” Siuan whispered, the words slipping out raw, honest, and achingly true, just before she closed the tiny distance between them.

Chapter Text

“You smell like home,” Siuan whispered, the words slipping out raw, honest, and achingly true, just before she closed the tiny distance between them.

Moiraine’s lips met hers halfway, kissing her tentatively at first, as if she needed physical proof that Siuan was truly there, flesh and blood rather than some phantom woven from lonely dreams. Yet beneath that careful kiss lay urgency, a quiet desperation pulsing through every trembling breath. Siuan answered with a matching fervor, palm sliding along the curve of her lover’s back, pulling her in until there was nothing left but heat and closeness.

Warmth bloomed low in Siuan’s belly. She let out a contented sigh and deepened the kiss, urging Moiraine’s mouth to open beneath hers. Their tongues brushed lightly, rediscovering each other with a tenderness that felt both familiar and new.

Moiraine’s hand moved up, fingertips sinking into Siuan’s hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her nearer until they were pressed flush. “You… feel so… warm…,” she whispered between kisses, the final syllable melting into a fragile sigh that made Siuan’s pulse stutter. “I've felt…. so cold… lately.”

“We’ll fix that,” Siuan promised huskily. She trailed a feather-light line of kisses along Moiraine’s jaw, willing away every shadow that had chased her lover these past weeks.

Her fingertips then ventured slowly beneath Moiraine’s chemise, tracing upward until they cupped the gentle swell of her breast, marveling once again at how perfectly she fit against her palm. Moiraine gasped quietly, her breath hitching, sending sparks of heat cascading down Siuan’s spine and setting her pulse racing. She spread her fingers, then squeezed more firmly, letting the huntress anchor herself in the warmth of the touch.

They slipped into an achingly slow rhythm, worlds away from their usual wild, urgent collisions. In the past, they'd often crashed into each other, fueled by repressed hunger, but tonight was different. Tonight, they moved as if they were craving something quieter, something gentler. The spark between them was still there, undeniable, but it was tempered by a softness and vulnerability neither of them could - or wanted to - look away from.

Siuan leaned back, gently drawing Moiraine onto her chest. She tried to hide it, but a flicker of pain crossed her face as pressure flared against the healing wound beneath the other woman’s weight.

Moiraine noticed instantly, her eyes going wide. “I’m sorry!” she gasped, pulling back quickly. “I’m hurting you!”

“No, you ain’t,” Siuan assured her, reaching out to catch her lover’s hand before she could retreat further. Tenderly, she guided Moiraine’s fingertips back to rest over the bandage beneath her shirt, letting the warmth seep through the fabric, comforting rather than painful. “You ain’t hurtin’ me none. ‘Sides, I already got bullet holes all over, little ache here or there ain’t gonna finish me off.” She forced a crooked smile, but seeing Moiraine’s lingering anxiety softened her tone into something more sincere. Gentler now, she added, “But we’ll take it easy, yeah?”

Moiraine’s shoulders slowly relaxed, her fingers gliding over the hidden wound as if the gentle touch alone could mend flesh and knit broken skin. Her eyes, usually so carefully composed, were clouded with quiet worry. “You’re still healing, Siuan,” she murmured. “If it’s too soon, if sex is too much after half a day of hard riding, we don’t have to.”

Siuan shook her head, mouth quirking into a mischievous grin as she brought Moiraine’s knuckles to her lips, pressing a playful kiss against her skin. “No way,” she teased lightly, her eyes brightening with a hunger she’d been forced to bury beneath caution and healing wounds for far too long. “I’ve been waitin’ for this, Moiraine. Damn near starvin’ for it.” Memories flickered briefly in her mind; frustrated nights interrupted by violent coughing fits or gentle refusals from an always worried Moiraine. “I promise I ain’t made of glass.”

Moiraine’s cheeks bloomed a soft pink. “Alright,” she said at last. “But let’s be soft tonight. Just… promise me we won’t push too far.”

“Soft it is, then,” Siuan murmured, placing another reassuring kiss upon Moiraine’s knuckles.

Silence drifted over them once more as they slipped back into quiet exploration. Moiraine’s lips pressed kisses along the column of Siuan’s throat, each one slow and careful. Before long, her fingertips drifted slowly downward, tracing the edges of Siuan’s shirt buttons, hesitating as if mustering the courage to cross the line between intention and action. Siuan watched her with quiet patience, biting back the urge to rush, and instead savoring every delicate second of their unfolding closeness.

Once the shirt fell open, Moiraine’s gaze caught immediately on the stubborn bruises and carefully wrapped bandages still marking Siuan’s torso. She froze, her movements arrested by a familiar shadow of guilt creeping swiftly back into her expression, deepening the storm in those blue eyes.

Siuan cupped her chin, coaxing her lover’s eyes upward again, thumb grazing softly along Moiraine’s cheekbone. “Hey,” she murmured gently. “I’m right here, ain’t vanishin’ anytime soon. Stop lookin’ at me like I’m about to.”

“I know,” the huntress whispered. “I’m sorry - it just still rattles me.”

Siuan gave a slow nod. “Yeah. Me too.” Her voice dropped. “But maybe we can quiet those rattles… one shared night at a time.”

Moiraine answered by leaning in and pressing a reverent kiss just above the edge of Siuan’s bandage. Then another. And another. Each one deliberate, as if the tender press of her lips might erase the pain still lingering beneath. Soon, her mouth drifted higher, and then Moiraine began to suck gently at Siuan’s neck.

Siuan let out a quiet breath, tipping her head back against the pillows, surrendering gladly to the building heat that crackled deliciously through her veins.

Her hands sought Moiraine’s chemise, gently gathering the fabric and guiding it upward. The other woman obediently lifted her arms, allowing the garment to fall away, baring herself plainly. For a breathless moment, Siuan’s throat tightened at the sheer beauty of her lover, soft skin gilded in the candle light, eyes wide and trusting, waiting to be touched.

Siuan leaned in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the smooth valley between Moiraine’s breasts, lingering there with quiet reverence. Then she dipped lower, her lips closing around a hardened nipple, drawing a helpless whimper from her lover’s throat. Her hand rose to the other breast, fingers teasing, pinching, rolling, until breathy moans rolled through the hush of the cabin like distant thunder.

A moment later, though, Moiraine’s focus shifted and her fingertips trailed over Siuan’s stomach, tracing slowly downward until they found a warm slickness between her thighs. Siuan’s breath snagged sharply, hips shifting instinctively toward Moiraine’s touch. A faint, pleased smirk curled at the other woman’s lips as she repositioned herself, settling comfortably between Siuan’s parted thighs.

When Moiraine’s mouth pressed softly against her core, Siuan gasped, her fingers twisting into the bedding beneath. There was no rush in her lover’s attention, no rapid leaps of hunger, just a slow, torturous stoking of heat that built with every passing second.

Moiraine’s tongue traced light patterns, sucking, pausing, retreating, then returning. Each touch was tender yet achingly deliberate, building pleasure with a patience Siuan both savored and struggled against. The sensation was delightful and sweet, almost unbearably so.

Siuan hadn’t realized how wound up she was, how desperately she needed this slow, loving care - until now. The gentle pace unraveled her gradually, and a quiet moan slipped from her lips, quickly muffled out of old habit. Moiraine paused, lifting her head just slightly, her eyes glittering, dark as the starless nightsky.

“We’re alone up here,” she reminded, though her own voice remained subdued. “You can make noise.”

Siuan chuckled breathlessly, threading her fingers into her lover’s hair, stroking lovingly through dark strands. “Any other night I’d be hollerin’ loud enough to tear this roof clean off,” she whispered fondly, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “But tonight… Reckon soft suits us just fine.”

Moiraine smiled warmly, her breath teasing against Siuan’s thigh before she returned her mouth to the slow worship she’d begun. Siuan sighed, letting herself fully sink into the careful caresses, surrendering to the rare luxury of simply enjoying.

Time ceased to matter as pleasure rose steadily like a gentle tide inching up the shore, gradually overwhelming Siuan’s senses until her breath turned ragged. Moiraine’s attention, the swirl of her tongue, the occasional press of her lips in just the right spot - it all made Siuan feel like she bathed in liquid fire.

When she finally shattered, it was almost dreamlike, washing over her in languid waves. She realized in that moment she’d never come so softly before, so safely, so completely wrapped in love and devotion.

When the tremors passed, the huntress kissed her way upward, meeting Siuan’s mouth in a deep kiss that stole her breath once more. Tasting herself on Moiraine’s lips made her dizzy with fresh desire, a hunger that surged anew even through her exhaustion.

A soft moan slipped from Moiraine, vibrating against Siuan’s lips as she shifted beneath her, sliding a hand between her lover’s thighs. Her touch was tender but insistent, silently urging Moiraine until she rose onto her knees, straddling Siuan’s hips. She braced herself above Siuan’s shoulders, her dark hair falling around them in a curtain of shadow.

One of Siuan’s hands slid over Moiraine’s thigh, savoring the smoothness of her skin. Her other hand moved higher, seeking the slick warmth that awaited her touch.

Siuan’s fingers traced gentle circles through velvet-soft folds, teasing gently before slipping inside. Moiraine’s eyelashes fluttered closed, and a beautifully broken sound escaped her lips, hips sinking down onto Siuan’s hand.

Siuan kissed the flush staining her lover’s cheeks, murmuring quiet praises and tender encouragements as her fingers twisted gently inside her, pressing into the place she knew Moiraine loved most.

“S-Siuan,” the huntress panted, breath hitching in rhythm with her movements. She dipped her head, face pressed near Siuan’s ear. “I’m… close.”

“Let me watch you,” Siuan whispered, “while you come.”

Moiraine nodded, swallowing visibly as she met Siuan’s gaze, eyes full of raw lust and need. They held each other’s gaze steadily, the intensity between them nearly tangible. Moiraine’s moans built, not loud but intense in their breathiness, until her hips faltered in their rhythm and her face contorted in an exquisite moment of release.

A muffled cry lodged in her throat, and she collapsed forward. Siuan caught her, winding a supportive arm around her waist, holding her as she rode out the aftershocks of her climax.

Gradually, Moiraine’s trembling subsided, and she slipped off to nestle against Siuan’s side. For some time, they didn’t speak, content with the thrumming afterglow. Siuan’s side ached faintly, but the warmth of her lover’s body soothed more than any medicine ever could.

Long minutes passed quietly. Siuan was on the edge of drifting off into sleep when Moiraine stirred gently against her chest, breaking the tranquil hush. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For humoring this whim of mine, for coming back to my cabin with me.”

Siuan tightened her embrace slightly, drawing Moiraine’s frame even closer and breathing in the comforting scent of lavender lingering in her dark curls. “Ain’t no whim, Moiraine,” she murmured. “This place is a piece of who you are. Part of your story. And I reckon I like knowin’ all your chapters.”

The huntress smiled at her and soon, silence settled again. But gradually, a prickling of awareness drew Siuan’s attention beyond the woman lying calmly in her arms. The bedroom around them suddenly became clearer to her senses, details emerging from the shadows that had been lost amid earlier passion.

Now, in the quiet aftermath, the intimacy of this place suddenly struck Siuan as hard as any blow. This wasn’t just a temporary bunk in some dusty hideout or a rented room passed through on the run. No, this was Moiraine’s space - and somehow, impossibly, Siuan was part of it now.

The realization felt strange and unexpectedly meaningful. Siuan had rarely glimpsed her lover’s private corners, let alone been invited to share them. Her eyes moved slowly across the room, taking in every detail like they might disappear if she looked away; neatly stacked books by the bed, their spines worn but lovingly kept. A slender wooden hairbrush, a few dark strands caught in its bristles glinting gold in the lamplight. Then, her gaze settled upon a familiar glint of metal resting quietly on the nightstand.

Her heart gave an odd, bittersweet twist at the sight. It was the dagger they’d once used for their blood oath. The memory rose clear and vivid; Moiraine’s fierce eyes, the sting of steel biting flesh, the heat of their joined hands. Back then, it had been about proving trust in a world that offered little. But now… now it felt like something more, rooted deeper than either of them had probably ever expected.

Siuan reached out to grasp the dagger’s hilt. Its weight felt solid and familiar, the etched steel cool against her palm as she slowly turned it over. “You keep this ol’ friend around,” she remarked, half to herself.

When she looked up, Moiraine was watching the blade, her gaze locked on the metal with a peculiar intensity as if she could see far more than mere metal in Siuan’s hands.

“What’s wrong?” Siuan teased. “You’re starin’ at this thing like a raven eyein’ somethin’ shiny.”

The huntress didn’t answer immediately, but a certain tension rippled subtly through her posture, like the dagger was drawing shadows from somewhere deep inside her.

Siuan cleared her throat, trying another route as her eyes flicked between Moiraine and the gleaming blade. “You know, you do act mighty strange around steel,” she ventured, a playful smirk on her lips. Moiraine’s gaze didn’t move, but Siuan kept going. “New Year’s Eve, remember? You turned bright as a beet when your finger slipped playin’ five-finger fillet. Thought you’d faint right there on the damn table. I couldn’t tell if it hurt or if it just… did somethin’ to you.”

A faint, rueful smile tugged at Moiraine’s mouth as she finally looked away from the dagger. “I remember,” she murmured. “You must think me half-mad, or at the very least, quite odd.”

Siuan chuckled fondly, setting the blade on her stomach as though it were a natural extension of their conversation. “I figure we’re all a little cracked,” she said. “You, though… you’re the good kind of odd. Never let anyone tell you different.” With gentle insistence, she reached out, hooking a finger beneath Moiraine’s chin and lifting her face until their eyes met. “But you can’t leave me hangin’ in all this solemn quiet. Feels like there’s a story here. Reckon you wanna tell it?”

The huntress hesitated, clearly torn. For a long moment, she didn’t speak, just stared at Siuan like she was weighing the cost of being known. Then, at last, her next exhale came heavy, drawing out more than just breath. “Perhaps a confession, rather.”

Siuan lifted an eyebrow, her thumb tracing idle patterns across the blade’s engraving. “Well, consider me your priest then.”

“All my life, Siuan, I’ve held myself behind walls,” Moiraine said quietly. “Careful masks. Precise control over everything - my words, my actions, my feelings. First to survive, and later… just to endure, to stay hidden.”

She paused, swallowing visibly, her gaze flickering briefly toward Siuan, uncertain, yet filled with quiet hope, as though silently asking for understanding she rarely dared seek aloud.

“Royal blood, hidden or not, teaches you early that any weakness can be used against you… that vulnerability is dangerous.” Her hands fidgeted slightly in the sheets before she stilled them. “I still carry those habits. Even now, even with you, I struggle to let anyone in completely. But sometimes… I… I want to. I find myself longing to truly let go. To trust completely, without reserve.”

Siuan’s playful expression slowly faded, replaced by something more earnest. “You know you can trust me, Moiraine - with everythin’. Right?”

The huntress didn’t hesitate this time, eyes blazing with sincerity. “I do. Completely.” Her eyes drifted again to the dagger resting against Siuan’s body, as if pulled by a force she didn’t quite understand. “Lately I… crave the freedom of losing control. Of cutting through all my masks. Of allowing someone else to hold the reins - even just for a moment.”

Siuan’s lips parted slightly, caught between surprise and confusion. “Losing control? You?” she asked, gently, not mocking, just curious.

Moiraine nodded, her voice quieter now, a note of shyness curling beneath her words. “I feel like… you’re the only one I trust enough to see me like that. To see me helpless. With you, I can drop every facade.” She hesitated, then added, cheeks coloring faintly, “It’s not about pain. Not that, never that. It’s about letting go.”

Siuan’s heart kicked fiercely in her chest as understanding dawned fully upon her. A swirl of conflicting emotions hit her all at once - protectiveness, curiosity, an unsteady thrill.

Carefully, she rolled onto her side to face Moiraine fully. Without breaking their eye contact, she lifted the dagger, letting it hang gently between them like a silent question, carefully poised.

“So…,” Siuan murmured, “you sayin’ you want me to… use this blade? On you?”

Moiraine’s lips parted around a gasp, a silent, vulnerable inhalation. For a brief heartbeat, she seemed to hesitate, to search for refusal or denial, but found none. Desire warred openly on her face with embarrassment, yet it was desire that ultimately prevailed.

“Yes,” she whispered at last, the single word carrying layers of emotions. 

Siuan inhaled slowly, a surge of adrenaline tightening her chest. Suddenly, the dagger seemed heavier in her hand, its cool metal biting firmly against her skin as she realized the seriousness and intimacy of what she was being entrusted with.

“If that’s what you need,” she began carefully, “then I’ll share this with you. But you gotta promise me somethin’ - if at any second it’s too much, if you change your mind even for a heartbeat, we stop right then and there. No hesitation. Clear?”

“Clear,” Moiraine whispered breathlessly, eyes flickering with relief and something else entirely - a rawness of wanting someone to see every hidden crack and love you all the more for it.

Swallowing against the sudden dryness in her throat, Siuan shifted forward, positioning herself carefully above her lover.

Moiraine stretched out willingly beneath her, bathed in the golden glow of the candlelight, her body open and vulnerable. Before touching steel to skin, Siuan leaned down, pressing the gentlest of kisses to her lover‘s lips, sealing the moment with tenderness.

“I won’t hurt you,” she whispered as she slowly raised the dagger, its blade hovering gently over Moiraine’s collarbone. “I wouldn’t. Never.”

Moiraine’s eyes fluttered shut. “I know,” she whispered back, her breath coming faster.

Gently, Siuan now lowered the blade until it barely kissed Moiraine’s skin. The sharp metal grazed along her collarbone, tracing a path so gentle it wouldn’t break skin, yet the reaction it drew was immediate and intense; Moiraine’s lips parted in a shuddering gasp. She clutched the bedding with one hand, the other coming up as if she might grip Siuan’s arm but she stopped short, fingers curling into the sheet instead.

Siuan moved the dagger downward, drawing the flat side of the blade along the elegant line of Moiraine’s sternum, never pressing hard enough to cut, only enough to tease sensation from the woman beneath her. Each subtle glide coaxed forth a faint shiver, another sharp intake of breath, another barely restrained moan that Moiraine fought to suppress.

“Feel good?” Siuan murmured, watching attentively, before she let the knife’s edge graze closer to her lover’s breast.

Moiraine nodded fervently, eyes opening just enough to reveal wide, desire-darkened pupils, gaze pleading and raw with need. “Yes,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.” She arched upward, encouraging the steel’s path.

Only then, Siuan traced the dagger further, brushing lightly across the swell of Moiraine’s breast. The instant the blade ghosted over her nipple, she let out a strangled noise, half-lust, half-surprise, all self-control unraveling in a beautifully vulnerable instant. Her hips lifted, seeking friction that wasn’t yet offered.

“Siuan,” she panted, fingers tightening desperately in the sheets. “It feels- like- like- I’m drowning… falling…”

“Then let me catch you, my sweet,” Siuan whispered. She dipped her head, peppering soft kisses along her lover’s chest in tandem with the blade’s path, intensifying every sensation until Moiraine trembled and moaned against her.

Guided by her lover’s reaction, Siuan let the blade drift lower, trailing down the plane of Moiraine’s abdomen, each inch coaxing forth whimpers that resonated with far more than physical pleasure. This wasn’t just lust or kink, this was Moiraine stripped bare of every careful mask, baring her deepest truths and vulnerabilities before Siuan’s eyes.

Kissing Moiraine’s parted lips, Siuan allowed the dagger to glide slowly lower, pausing beneath Moiraine’s navel. Yet, it was then when she withdrew the knife, worried her hand might slip in the haze of lust. She set it aside gently, not wanting to risk even the slightest misstep.

The disappointment in Moiraine’s eyes was fleeting, replaced by relief when Siuan lowered her mouth to follow the same trail, tongue tracing the lines of her body.

The shift from steel to lips - from danger to safety - seemed to rob Moiraine of breath. She let out a low cry as Siuan’s kisses wandered lower, her fingernails digging into her shoulders in a plea for more.

Sliding lower, Siuan settled between her lover’s legs. Gently, she run her palm along Moiraine’s thigh, urging it wider, before she pressed her lips against the spot the blade had never touched. Her mouth found the wet mess she’d already made of Moiraine, and the world narrowed to that taste, that velvet slide.

She pressed her tongue down gently, tasting her softly at first, then with deeper insistence, until Moiraine’s gasps melted gradually into breathless cries.

Siuan didn’t let up, not for a moment. Instead, her hand slid upward along Moiraine’s flushed skin, cupping one perfect, aching breast, rolling its sensitive peak gently between her fingertips, matching each careful motion with a deliberate sweep of her tongue. She watched, utterly entranced, as Moiraine’s carefully held composure shattered. Piece by beautiful piece.

She was so sensitive, so reactive. Her body arched off the bed, her thighs trying to squeeze around Siuan’s head, but Siuan held her open, held her still, kept her exactly where she wanted her.

Moiraine’s fingers tangled in her curls, gripping with urgency, hips rolling upwards helplessly, voice catching softly on Siuan’s name like a prayer. When she teetered, Siuan slipped two fingers inside her, hooking them upward in a way she knew would undo her completely.

Moiraine sobbed, a sound that barely even sounded like her. And then, there it was.

“Oh-… OH!“

Siuan felt it, saw it, tasted it in every gasp and twitch of her lover’s body - Moiraine came spectacularly undone beneath her.

Trembling and arching.

Sobbing openly.

Crying out with a freedom that seemed more like liberation than mere climax.

In that instant, Siuan was too far gone herself to think clearly, to tease or even to breathe. All she could do was chase the intoxicating taste of Moiraine’s surrender, the breathtaking way her body shook and tensed, the way her fingers clutching at Siuan like she might fly apart if Moiraine let go.

Unlike the gentle softness of earlier, this release was loud, explosive, instantaneous - like a bowstring snapping, like a dam giving way, like every carefully wound thread of control Moiraine had ever held onto in her life suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

And Siuan loved it fiercely, was utterly drunk on it. On the exquisite, unfiltered way Moiraine broke for her. On the way she sounded, so wrecked, so utterly undone. On the taste of her, a mix of sweet, salty, and impossibly addictive.

Though some quiet part of her whispered that perhaps she should slow down, let Moiraine breathe, let her find her way back, Siuan couldn’t stop. Not yet. She continued relentlessly, her tongue circling, fingers pressing deeper, coaxing Moiraine higher and higher until the woman beneath her was reduced to raw cries.

Moiraine’s body writhed, hips jerking upwards, her fingers clutching and loosening repeatedly, apparently unsure whether to push Siuan away or hold her even closer. But she never uttered a plea to stop, never whispered anything but Siuan’s name, and so Siuan never faltered.

She had never heard Moiraine like this, but she knew she desperately wanted to hear more. She wanted to push Moiraine past every limit she thought she had, wanted to drag her through another wave, and another, and another. 

And goddamn - she did exactly that.

It was only when Moiraine’s entire body jerked and convulsed, her fingers going slack in Siuan’s hair, that she finally pulled back. Breathing heavily herself, Siuan pressed soothing kisses along her lover’s inner thighs, over her hips, her stomach, trailing reverent touches upward along her body.

The woman was shaking. Still gasping. Her eyes barely open, her skin damp with sweat, her lips parted in some dazed attempt at a breath. Siuan smirked, claiming her lover’s lips in a deep kiss, drinking in the taste of her own work.

Moiraine didn’t move, didn’t even twitch a finger. She lay heavy and limp in Siuan’s arms, utterly unguarded and beautifully, profoundly free. No crowns, no masks, only Moiraine herself; a lost princess with no kingdom, a huntress walking barefoot through tall grass, a simple woman surrendered entirely to an outlaw’s safekeeping.

Siuan couldn’t quite hide the smug grin on her face, pride sparkling in her eyes as she brushed sweaty strands of hair away from Moiraine’s forehead. “Hey,” she teased, barely concealing amusement, “you still with me?”

Moiraine released a shaky laugh, one that trembled on the brink of tears, overwhelmed but utterly content. “I’m… You’re…” she managed breathlessly, still trembling faintly, “going to be the death of me.”

Siuan chuckled, pressing a tender kiss against the sensitive hollow beneath Moiraine’s ear. “Well,” she teased, “what a damn fine way to go.” Pulling back just enough to meet her lover’s eyes, she grinned wickedly. “Guess we found your weakness, huh?”

Moiraine’s cheeks bloomed into a pretty shade of pink, a blush deep enough to spread all the way down her throat. “I… didn’t realize… I- I’ve never-… not so-...”

Siuan’s own heart kicked sharply. “Gotta say, damn near lost my own head, hearin’ you come apart like that.” Her gaze shifted playfully back toward the dagger resting innocently beside them on the bed. “Though this here… Well, it sure is an unexpected little quirk. Never pegged you for a blade in the bedroom.”

A flicker of uncertainty briefly shadowed Moiraine’s expression, her eyes searching Siuan’s face anxiously. “Do you… think I’m odd?”

“You wanna know what I think?” Siuan murmured warmly, pressing a kiss to Moiraine’s temple. “If I’d known about this earlier, I could’ve given you the most astonishin’ orgasms you’ve ever had. And,” she added, eyes dancing mischievously, “I could’ve teased you mercilessly about it months ago.”

Despite her exhaustion, Moiraine rolled her eyes, but it was paired with a grin. “I know you would have.”

“Maybe next time we add some of my rope and-”

“Siuan!” Moiraine chided immediately, face burning an even brighter pink, though the spark in her gaze belied the gentle reprimand.

“Just plannin’ ahead, is all.” Siuan offered a lazy grin. After a moment, she drew back slightly, considering her lover thoughtfully. “Speakin’ of bedroom preferences,” she drawled slowly, “reckon it’s my turn to confess. Always did love a good smoke after… well,” he gestured between them, eyebrows arched playfully. “Used to indulge after sex all the time. But you hate the smell, so I kinda gave it up.”

Blinking, Moiraine laughed quietly. “You’ve been denying yourself tobacco for my sake?”

Siuan shrugged one shoulder, feigning nonchalance despite the warmth rising in her chest. “Seemed a fair trade,” she murmured. But now, the mood of confession spurred her into action. Sliding from the warmth of Moiraine’s embrace, she padded lightly across the creaking floorboards to her saddlebag, rummaging briefly before drawing out a small pack of cigarettes and matches. She glanced back toward Moiraine, almost shyly seeking approval. “Mind if I do?”

The huntress eyed her amused, wrinkling her nose playfully. “But open the window, please.”

With a snort, Siuan complied, unlatching the wooden shutters and letting the crisp, cool mountain air filter into the room.

She lit the cigarette and took a deep drag, letting the smoke swirl in her mouth. It had been a long time since she’d let herself indulge. For a moment, it felt sublime, rich with old comforts.

But a few puffs later, the familiar irritation caught sharply in her chest. Siuan’s lungs tightened, and she sputtered into a painful coughing fit, wincing at the renewed ache in her ribs. Moiraine sat bolt upright in an instant, worry etched deeply into her brow.

“Siuan…”

Siuan waved her off, spitting out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I’m fine,” she rasped hoarsely, avoiding Moiraine’s pointedly exasperated glare. “Just outta practice, s’all.”

“You’ve had that cough for weeks,” Moiraine murmured. “Please, Siuan. When we’re back, see a real doctor in Saint Denis.”

Siuan took one last, shallow drag, but it tasted bitter now, joyless. Grimacing slightly, she stubbed out the cigarette against the windowsill. “Alright, alright,” she relented, shaking her head with a fond sigh. “If it’ll ease your mind, I’ll let some fancy sawbones poke and prod me with all them shiny tools. If only to quiet that pretty mouth of yours from frettin’.”

Moiraine pursed her lips, attempting a stern glare. “I’m not fretting, I’m-”

“Fussin’,” Siuan finished for her, tone gentle and affectionate as she returned to the bed, groaning as she eased onto the mattress. “Don’t mind it, though. It’s kinda nice to have someone fuss over me for a change.”

Moiraine’s stern look melted into a smile. She shifted carefully, settling close to Siuan, until their faces lay mere inches apart on the pillow. “I suppose I do fuss,” she murmured. “But I refuse to apologize for caring.”

Something tugged tenderly at Siuan’s heart. She reached up, cupping Moiraine’s cheek, her thumb brushing gently along her jaw. “You’re like a little pufferfish, you know that?”

Moiraine’s brows drew together. “If you’re determined to call me that ridiculous nickname,” she said, amused, “at least admit it’s because you love me.”

“Oh, I love every spiky lil’ thing about you,” Siuan whispered fondly.

Chapter Text

Siuan stepped off the train and straight into a damn beehive.

Saint Denis hit her all at once; steam from the engine curling like ghost fingers through the humid air, porters barking over one another, a fiddler playing somewhere she couldn’t see, and the whole place stinking of smoke, horse manure, and that sweet rot that clung to cities built too close to swamps.

She paused on the platform, hat tugged low, boots planted wide. Her chest ached with the heat and motion, or maybe just with the weight of being here at all. Truth be told, she felt like a fool coming this far just because her lungs had started coughing up more than complaints.

She told herself it was nothing. That ache in her ribs, the scratch in her throat; it was the bullet wound, still grumbling weeks later. It had to be. That bastard in Strawberry had aimed to kill, and near succeeded. One shot to the gut and a near-death scrape had to come with lasting consequences - that was just common sense. But that hadn’t satisfied Moiraine, who’d stared her down like she could see straight through the excuses and the grit.

So, a few bloodied handkerchiefs and an overpriced train ticket later, and here she was. Drenched in sweat and mildly – highly – annoyed by this place.

The city yawned open in front of her, all mismatched grandeur; gilded balconies clinging to weather-worn buildings, trolley cars rattling past storefronts selling champagne and rifles in equal measure. Saint Denis wanted you to think it was respectable, but Siuan could smell the hustle underneath. Everyone here was on the take. You could see it in the tight mouths, the sideways glances, the way folks moved just a little too fast or not fast enough.

She stepped into the street and damn near got flattened by a carriage. The driver shouted something fancy and furious, but she didn’t flinch, just tipped her hat and kept walking.

Civility her ass. All she wanted was to get the doc to prod at her lungs, tell her she wasn’t dying, and be back at camp by dawn. Simple as that.

Siuan had a name and an address, scrawled in Ryma’s hand on a torn bit of ledger paper. She unfolded it and followed the ink like it was a trail through tall grass until she found the place.

Didn’t look like much.

Red-brick walls gone patchy with mildew, windows fogged from the inside like the place was stewing in its own secrets. Above the door, a crooked sign read ‘Doctor Joseph R. Barnes – Physician & Surgeon’ in cursive writing fancy enough to make her itch. She stared at it a beat longer than she meant to, swallowing past the rasp in her throat. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door.

The old bell overhead jingled in a polite, cheery tone that belied her uneasiness. Inside, everything was so damn clean; floors polished to a shine, glass cabinets lined with vials and medical implements - tools meant to cut, pinch, or prod. It smelled of bleach, old paper, and something powdery she couldn’t name. Whatever it was, it smelled sterile and wrong and brought back bad memories of pain and blood.

Behind the counter sat a nurse, stiff-backed and ghost-pale beneath her starched white cap. Her face didn’t move, not at the bell, not at Siuan’s entrance. She just gave her the kind of look reserved for strays limping into town, unsure whether to offer water or a bullet. Her eyes swept over Siuan’s boots, mud-caked and worn, lingered on the battered jacket, then fixed on her face.

“Can I help you, miss?” she asked, voice flat and efficient.

Siuan cleared her throat, trying to ignore the tickle that made her want to cough. “Yeah, I reckon so,” she muttered, fishing inside her coat for another one of Ryma’s notes.

It wasn’t anything official. Hell, it barely counted as a referral. Just a name passed between wary folks, like a bootleg map to someplace quiet. “The best in town who doesn‘t ask too many questions,” Ryma had said. That last part stuck with Siuan more than the rest.

She laid the paper on the counter and stepped back like it might burn a hole through the wood. The nurse’s gaze flicked over it, and something in her stiff posture eased. Not much, just a twitch of the mouth, but there was a flicker of permission.

“Please wait,” the other woman said, gesturing toward the row of chairs. “Doctor Barnes will see you shortly.”

Siuan tipped her head in thanks, boots thudding against the polished floor as she walked deeper inside the waiting room. She sat stiff and rigid, arms crossed tight over her chest, like that’d keep something in - or someone out.

Silence settled in like heavy dust - unnatural, too quiet.

No poker chips clinking, no fire crackling, no rough laughter echoing off canyon walls, just the low tick of a clock and the rattle in her own lungs.

Her chest itched. Not from sweat or nerves, but from something deeper. Something trying to claw its way out. She swallowed hard, held the cough back, told herself not to be dramatic.

But it hit nonetheless.

She hunched forward, pressing her sleeve to her mouth, hacking with a sound that scraped like gravel in a tin can. The taste in her mouth turned bitter and metallic, and when she pulled the cloth away, fresh red stared back at her.

She wiped her mouth fast, tucked the sleeve back under her coat, jaw clenched so tight it ached. She glanced around the waiting room like she could erase what just happened by looking tough enough. No one was watching, but that uneasy feeling had a way of sticking, even in silence.

“It’s nothin’,” she told herself, but it didn’t sound convincing. At least not anymore.

The small clock on the wall ticked slow, each second dragging like a boot through swamp mud. Fifteen minutes felt like fifteen rounds in a losing fight. Then, finally, a door creaked open.

A tall man in a white coat stepped through, his eyes sweeping the room with the bored precision of a man who’d seen too much and slept too little. His gaze landed on her like a pin dropping on a map.

“The next one, please.”

Siuan pushed off her knees and stood. “Well, that’s me then.”

He didn’t smile. Just turned on his heel and said, “Come on back.” Voice clipped, tone polite but too quick to care.

She followed him down the hall, each step slower than the last.

His office brought a new bouquet of smells and impressions; carbolic soap and stale coffee hit her nose. Sunlight filtered through grimy windows in dusty streaks, catching on shelves lined with medical books. And in the middle of the room stood an examining table covered in a clean white sheet.

“Hop on,” Barnes said, motioning with a clipboard.

Siuan climbed up stiffly, perching on the edge like a schoolkid about to get scolded. The doctor moved around the room with the efficiency of a man who didn’t need to ask questions to find answers. Clipboard, pen, stethoscope - no wasted motion.

“So,” he said, pen already scratching across the page, “what brings you in today?”

Siuan scratched at the back of her neck, stalling for time. She hated this part… naming things, explaining things.

"Ah, well… got this fierce cough lately,” she muttered. “Took a bullet to the side some time back. S’posed to be healin’, but lately, the cough’s been hangin’ on. My pa-…” She caught herself before saying partner. “My friend said it might be worth gettin’ it looked at, seein’ as I keep spittin’ up blood.”

Barnes’ pen paused mid-stroke, hovering like it wasn’t sure where to land. He raised a brow, but didn’t say a word. Siuan couldn’t tell what part stuck with him the most; coughing blood, the bullet wound, or her stupid way of talking.

“Best not to leave something like that to guesswork,” he said mildly. “Miss...?”

Siuan blinked. Her brain fumbled for the alias. “Uh… Johnson,” she said quickly. “Mara Johnson.”

Barnes didn’t press. Just nodded, writing it down like he’d heard a dozen names today and believed none of them. Still, her pulse kicked up a notch. Coming in with such an injury, with no real ID, no local ties... it was the kind of thing that got tongues wagging, even in a town this big. She’d slip him a little extra for his silence. That was the unspoken part of this deal.

He reached for a wooden depressor and a small mirror. “Let me see your tongue. Say ‘Ahh.’”

Siuan did as told. The depressor hit her tongue and she nearly gagged, eyes watering from the force of holding it down. It felt like being back at camp, getting patched up by Ryma in the dark, chewing leather to keep from cursing.

The doctor checked her throat, nose, ears, and eyes in steady succession, his silence as clinical as the tools he used. He wasn’t cruel, just distant. The kind of distance a man needed to stay sane in a job like his.

“Shirt up,” he said, sliding the stethoscope into his ears.

Siuan lifted her shirt without complaint, baring the skin across her ribs. The wound had closed, but the memory of it still pulsed under her skin. She tensed as the cold disc touched her back.

“Deep breath.”

She inhaled, chest hitching.

“Again.”

Another breath, slower. Her lungs crackled.

“And one more.”

The third breath caught on something raw and she knew he heard it by the way his hand paused, then pulled away like he’d touched a snake. His face didn’t change much, but his fingers tightened slightly around the clipboard - subtle, controlled, but it wasn’t nothing.

He then pressed the stethoscope just above her collarbone, repeating the process. Then came the tapping, fingers drumming over her chest like he was listening for something buried deep.

“When did the coughing start?” he asked, eyes still on his hands.

She sniffed. “Week, maybe two after I got shot. I was laid up, figured once I started walkin’ again, it’d pass. But then I started coughin’ red. First once a day. Now…” She shrugged. “More than that.”

“How old’s the injury exactly?”

“Couple of weeks,” she said on reflex, then reconsidered. “Or more like… two months. Give or take.”

Barnes made a small noise in his throat. “That’s long enough for a wound like that to either heal, or fester.” He paused, eyes flicking back to hers. “Have you had fever? Chills? Night sweats?”

She hesitated. “Yeah. I mean sometimes I wake up soaked. But I thought it was just the bed, or bad dreams. It’s hard to tell, sleepin’ rough.”

He nodded, already moving again, shining a narrow beam of light into her eyes. She squinted against the brightness, jaw tight.

“Any unusual fatigue?”

She scoffed. “Well, yeah… but I’ve been tired every day of my damn life.”

His voice stayed even. “You mentioned blood?”

“Yep, sometimes,” she muttered, throat tightening. “More lately.”

Another hum. This one slower. Weighted. Final.

Dr. Barnes stepped back without a word and crossed to the basin in the corner. The faucet creaked to life, spilling water into the bowl, clear at first, then clouded with soap. He scrubbed thoroughly up to the elbows like he was trying to wash the truth off his hands.

Siuan watched the way his jaw tensed, watched the lines in his face deepen as he stared into the bowl - and that was when her stomach turned.

He’d seen something, felt something. And now he was washing his hands like he needed the time to figure out how to tell her. She knew that look, that pinched expression she’d seen on lawmen giving bad news to widows.

“Well,” Barnes said at last, drying his hands on a cloth, “from what I’m hearing and seeing, I’m inclined to say the cough isn’t from your gunshot wound. I’m afraid it’s something more serious.”

Her mouth went dry. “I’ve been told bullets can mess a person up on the inside. Real bad.”

He gave a patient nod, polite but resolute. “They can. But your lungs are telling a different story. The wheezing, the blood, the night sweats, the fatigue… it’s following the typical pattern of tuberculosis.”

Siuan stared at him, uncomprehending.

She was half expecting a punchline, some kind of dry joke, maybe. But his face stayed the same - calm, professional, unsmiling.

“TB?” she repeated, voice thin. “That’s what kills folks in the cities. Hell, kills folks everywhere. That can’t be right.”

Her words caught, broke apart halfway out. She’d heard the word, knew the stories. But the diagnosis stuck in her mind like a bullet that refused to come out. A hollow feeling bloomed in her chest, spreading rapidly.

“I…” She swallowed. “Are you sure?”

Barnes exhaled slowly, setting the cloth aside. “I’m quite certain. Tuberculosis can stay hidden for years - dormant. Then something knocks the body off balance; an injury, poor nutrition, exhaustion, and it comes roaring out. In your case… it appears to be quite advanced.”

The room tilted.

A cold sweat prickled across her skin. The city sounds outside the windows seemed to die away, and everything around her narrowed to a pinpoint, breath caught halfway to panic.

“Tuberculosis.”

“Advanced.”

That was a death sentence more often than not.

She clenched her fists in her lap, swallowing hard against the wave of sudden nausea. “I... can’t be…,” she whispered. “I’ve got things to do. People dependin’ on me. Places I need to be. There’s gotta be somethin’ you can do, right?”

“There’s no outright cure,” Barnes said gently. “Not yet. But some folks manage to slow the progression. A dry climate helps. There’s a sanatorium in New Austin - expensive, but it’s had results. You get proper rest, good nutrition, medicine to ease symptoms. Sometimes there’s even remission. It’s rare, but not unheard of.”

Siuan blinked hard, forcing the burn behind her eyes back where it came from. “Ain’t got money for no fancy place,” she muttered, the words flat and hollow.

Shame curled hot in her chest, hotter than anger even. Her pride hated it, clawed against it, but truth didn’t give a damn how proud you were. The little cash she’d tucked away wouldn’t last a week in some high-walled sanatorium.

Barnes didn’t argue, didn’t try to offer false comfort. He just nodded solemnly. That was the rub, and they both knew it. In Saint Denis - hell, in the whole damn world - you either had coin, or you didn’t. And disease didn’t wait for coin to show up.

“If you can’t afford long-term treatment,” he said finally, “there are smaller measures. Steam inhalation, herbal tinctures, plenty of rest… minimize stress where you can.” Then his eyes met hers. “But once it’s in the lungs and there’s blood... it rarely lets go.”

Siuan nodded, slow and wooden. Her heart felt like it had sunk to the bottom of a mine shaft. Part of her wanted to laugh - just throw her head back and bark out a goddamn laugh at the absurdity of it. Or maybe she wanted to cry. Or throw a chair.

But she did none of that. She just sat there and realized she’d never felt more alone in all her life. But still, ironically, she was glad that Moiraine hadn’t come with her. She could already picture the look on her face if she had, that quiet heartbreak she never showed in full but that lived in her eyes. Siuan wouldn’t have survived seeing it.

But thinking of her curled up in bed last night, breathing soft and warm beside her, jolted something fierce in Siuan’s chest.

“Doc,” she said, voice hushed, "this sickness… Can it spread to someone else? If I were...close to someone…"

He raised an eyebrow, cautious. “You mean intimately?”

She nodded, shame burning now in full force. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

Barnes set down his pen and folded his hands. “Tuberculosis spreads through the air - coughing, sneezing, long exposure in close quarters. It’s not usually passed through touch or, ah... intercourse specifically, but proximity is enough. Breathing the same air for long hours, sleeping close… yes, there’s risk.”

Siuan stared at a crack in the floor, too afraid to meet his eyes. “So if I’ve been… sharing a bed… if I been close to someone, real close, there’s a chance?”

“Yes,” he said. “There’s a chance. But it’s not a certainty. Some folks carry it for years without showing symptoms. Others catch it fast. It depends on their health, resilience... a lot of things.”

Her throat closed up as she flashed back; lamplight flickering over pale skin, Moiraine’s breath hot against her neck, the way they swallowed each other’s moans like they’d never taste anything sweeter again. The memories that once brought so much comfort and love now felt tainted by the knowledge that she could have passed along a death sentence.

Barnes cut through the silence. “Your partner - any sign of a cough?”

“No,” Siuan croaked. “Healthy as a horse. Far as I can tell.”

She should’ve felt relief, but dread swallowed it whole. Moiraine’s image twisted behind her eyes; graceful posture gone rigid with fever, those bright blue eyes dimming under sickly weight, coughing into bloodied cloths… Tears surged, uninvited. Siuan fought them hard, blinking fast.

Dr. Barnes patted her shoulder in what was likely meant as a comforting gesture but it couldn’t touch the wildfire roaring inside her. “I’m sorry to hand you such news,” he said. “If it helps, you’re not alone. There’s a wave of it sweeping through the cities. Industrial expansion, poor conditions... sometimes it’s just fate.”

Siuan forced herself to nod, though her vision blurred. Tears shimmered but didn’t fall. Not yet.

On the frontier, enemies had faces. A knife, a rifle, a noose - you could see it coming, you could fight back. But this? This was a blade made of shadows, twisting slow and deep in her chest, tearing her apart one breath at a time.

“How long do I have?” Her voice cracked as the first tear fell, hot against her cheek.

Barnes hesitated, long enough to confirm what she already knew. “Hard to say. Weeks. Months. Maybe a year - if you rest, if the conditions are right. But…” He paused. “You should consider getting your affairs in order.”

Siuan felt the air vanish from the room. That phrase, that neat, practiced phrase, felt like the final blow.

‘Get your affairs in order.’

Not ‘fight this’, not ‘hold on’. Just ‘prepare to go’.

That was it - the end of the road, written not in lead or iron but in blood. Her own blood.

“I can give you a prescription,” Barnes continued, quieter now. “Something to help ease the cough. It won’t stop it, but it might let you sleep. And I can write down the contact for the New Austin sanatorium, in case you want to inquire about cost.”

Siuan didn’t look up, didn’t speak, just nodded. Her voice had retreated somewhere she couldn’t reach. She stared down at her boots. One sole was half-torn, flapping when she walked. She’d meant to fix it… meant to do a lot of things.

Barnes scribbled something on a slip of paper, then blew gently on the ink. “I wish I could do more,” he said. “Rest, eat well. Avoid smoky rooms. If you can make it to New Austin... the desert’s kinder to lungs like yours.”

Siuan glanced down at the note, then tucked it into her shirt pocket. “Thanks,” she muttered. Her fingers dug into the other pocket, fumbling past scraps and coins until she found the folded bills. It would leave her near broke, but she held them out. “That cover it? For the appointment… and for your discretion?”

He counted the money, then gave her a curt nod. “That’ll do.”

Siuan hopped off the table, knees catching under her. The floor seemed farther away than she remembered.

The doctor rattled off a few last things, a number for the local apothecary, a recommendation for cloth over the mouth to lower the risk of transmission. She barely heard him. The only things screaming in her mind were:

“I’m dying.”

“I probably gave it to Moiraine.”

“I have no money for a cure.”

“I’m dying.”

“Take care of yourself,” Barnes said quietly, pulling open the door for her.

Siuan managed a grunt that might have passed for thanks, then stepped into the hallway like she was walking out of a dream. The clerk behind the front desk looked up, eyes lingering a second too long, but Siuan kept her stare fixed on the exit.

By the time she swung the clinic door open and stumbled onto the street, the world hit her all at once – too bright, too loud, too goddamn casual.

Carriages clattered across uneven stones. Newspaper boys shouted today’s headlines with voices too sharp for her ears. Street vendors waved paper fans and baskets of peaches, shouting about freshness, bargains, sun-ripened sweetness. And Siuan… she’d just been handed a slow death sentence.

How could everything look the same when her world had just fractured open?

She staggered sideways, boots slipping slightly on the edge of the curb. One hand reached for the brick wall beside her, fingers splayed as she leaned into it, let it scrape against her shoulder blades like punishment. The sun had warmed the stone, but it did nothing for the chill blooming inside her.

A gust of wind stirred up dust, and she coughed. Her body bucked forward, arm raised by instinct to catch it. When she pulled her sleeve away, there were flecks of red again. Bright. Fresh.

Her hands shook as she wiped her lips.

“Tuberculosis…”

It lodged in her mind like a brand. She tried to recall if she’d ever known someone who truly recovered from TB, anyone who’d lived long enough to tell the tale. Some folks claimed they had, but it was always secondhand talk, always stories that ended with a shrug. Mostly, they just vanished - gone west, gone sick, gone silent.

Her eyes watered again. “Snap out of it, damn you,” she told herself. She needed her wits. She needed to figure out a plan - for Moiraine’s sake, if nothing else.

But if Barnes was right, if this thing was in her lungs, in her breath, in every kiss and quiet night shared… Then maybe the only way to keep Moiraine safe…

… was to leave.

The thought hit harder than the diagnosis, harder than the bullet that nearly ended her. Just the idea of pulling away... it felt like throwing a lantern onto everything they’d built. Moiraine was strong, yes. Hell, a lot stronger than most men Siuan had ridden with. And smart, resourceful. She’d survived things Siuan could barely imagine.

But they’d finally carved out a sliver of peace, a few nights wrapped around each other like the world might just leave them alone. And now Siuan had to shatter it.

Her mind was a hurricane of questions she didn’t have answers to.

“How do I tell her?”

“How do I say I might’ve killed you just by loving you?”

She imagined Moiraine’s face. Composed, unreadable at first, then the shift; that subtle heartbreak, the flicker behind those deep blue eyes she tried so hard to hide. “Sure is easier to rob a train than face the woman you love with this news,” Siuan thought bitterly.

But time wasn’t her friend anymore.

And she couldn’t wait forever.

Chapter Text

Siuan couldn’t rightly recall how she made it back from Saint Denis, just that every mile stretched longer than the last and every jolt of the train had rattled something loose inside her. But truth be told, she didn’t want to memorize that day anyway.

The whole ride back, she’d stared out the window like a ghost trapped behind glass, numb from the inside out. The train rocked, the sun crawled west, and her thoughts just circled the drain. She didn’t feel sick. At least not the way folks talked about it. Sure, there was this stubborn cough and a few other symptoms, but she didn’t feel like she was slowly dying. But it was there now, crawling under her skin.

“Tuberculosis. Advanced. Get your affairs in order.”

What was she supposed to do with that? Tell Moiraine outright that she was slowly wasting away? But how in all seven hells do you look the love of your life in the eye and tell her you're dying? That you’ll leave her. That you won’t get to grow old by her side, won’t see the end of the road together.

Siuan could already picture that sharp flick of pain behind those blue eyes she’d die a thousand times to protect. The thought of Moiraine’s heartbreak haunted her worse than the diagnosis itself.

So, by the time she clambered down from that wagon at dusk, legs half-numb and hands still trembling, she felt like a soldier limping right into a war she never signed up for - with no gun, no plan, just her damn heart swinging loose and bruised inside her chest.

After riding the last stretch from the train station back to camp, the scent of stew welcomed her like nothing had changed. Horses snorted off near the hitching posts, a pan clanged somewhere behind the tents, and the world kept on turning, same as always.

Siuan tied her mare to a post and lingered just beyond the edge of the fire’s reach. The shadows suited her tonight, gave her the opportunity to scan the camp until she spotted Moiraine.

The huntress stood by the main tent, sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows, arms dipping tin plates into a washbasin with that efficiency only she could make look graceful. She was chatting, even smiling once or twice, while golden lantern light coiled around her like the universe was spotlighting her on purpose.

Normally, this part was easy. Hell, it was the best part of any damn day. Coming back to Moiraine was like breathing after holding your head underwater too long. It was like the first real gulp of air that reminded you you were still alive. Just one glance, one of the small, secret smiles… that was all it took and the weight Siuan carried would fall clean off her shoulders.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff with no way down but the hard way. Moiraine’s face, that calm, composed beauty Siuan always clung to, only made her chest ache harder. She couldn’t lean on her, couldn’t fall into her arms like usual and pretend the world outside their tent didn’t exist.

Not with this.

Not with this coiled inside her like a snake, whispering death in her ear with every cough she swallowed down.

Moiraine was safety. Moiraine was home. But for the first time, Siuan wasn’t sure if she was allowed to walk through that door anymore.

What she knew, however, was that she had to tell her. One way or another. Moiraine would know something was wrong the moment she saw her anyway. She always did. Still, Siuan didn’t know how to say it, didn’t even know where to start.

Maybe if she just walked over now, Moiraine would smile that little smile, and Siuan would find her spine. But even that hope crumbled like ash as panic surged up her throat.

“Oi, that you hidin’ out there, boss?”

Siuan flinched like she’d been caught stealing. Alanna strode toward her, skirts whispering around her boots, confidence rolling off her like perfume. She had a bundle of papers cradled under one arm, a battered green cloak tossed over the other, and her dark hair was half-falling from its pins, curling around her temples in wild wisps.

Siuan pulled herself together and summoned a crooked smile. “Hidin’? Nah. Just got back from the big city. Catchin’ my breath for a bit, is all.”

“That so?” Alanna arched a brow, eyes flicking over her like she was scanning for blood or broken bones. “You look like you lost a barfight with a bull. Not that the rest of us are peaches, but you…” She trailed off, squinting. “Rough day?”

Siuan huffed a breath that was meant to be a laugh but sounded more like she was choking on it. “City’s a soul-sucker. Too loud. Too many damn people breathin’ down your neck.” She wiped her palms on her pants, trying to rid them of sweat, guilt, and the shakes. “Nothin’ to worry on.”

“Mm-hmm.” The other woman clicked her tongue. “I’d call you a liar, but I’m far too polite.” Her tone oozed that sort of teasing sass that she wielded as naturally as breathing. “Anyway,” she added, shifting the papers under her arm, “don’t let the city wring too much outta you. Camp still needs its boss in one piece. You got a minute?”

Right. She was still the boss. Still the one meant to keep this whole ragtag circus together with basically nothing but callused hands and tape. Hell of a thing to balance when her lungs where giving in on her and her head wasn’t even in the same damn camp right now.

However, Alanna was already rolling into it, businesslike now. “We’ve got movement in Lemoyne. Pinkertons sniffin’ near Rhodes. New fence up that way too, might be worth meetin’. Lan thinks the Braithwaites are tightenin’ their grip… territory’s gettin’ real unfriendly. We need to sort who’s ridin’ where, what’s safe to move, and what ain’t.”

“Right,” Siuan muttered. “Right. Sure.” Her mouth moved on instinct, her brain lagging behind, only half there. The other half was still back behind that clinic door.

Off to the side, something then shifted. Or someone. She didn’t need to look to know who it was. She could feel it - like sunlight on bare skin. Moiraine had spotted her.

Siuan’s pulse kicked hard beneath her collar, but she stared stubbornly at the map in Alanna’s hand. “Let’s… go on with it then,” she muttered.

“That’s the spirit!” Alanna looped an arm through hers, dragging her along as though guiding a lost child. “Maybe we’ll hand out some chores for tomorrow before the rest of these layabouts vanish into their blankets.”

Siuan let herself be pulled. Moving was easier than standing still, easier than turning around and seeing the question already etched across Moiraine’s face. Her stomach churned with guilt, and yet, she’d do anything right now to avoid that talk. So throwing herself into some half-baked logistical conversation almost felt like a blessing.

Alanna led her to the edge of camp, where they settled on a pair of crates worn smooth from use. She unrolled a tattered map of the region, weighing it down with empty tin cups. A flickering lantern provided enough light to see the route lines drawn in faint pencil, some sections darkened or crossed out.

The other woman‘s voice ticked along like clockwork; Pinkerton patrols here, roadblocks there. Word of a new fence who might be worth a meet-up. Tolls tightening along the river bend.

Normally, Siuan would be neck-deep in this kind of thing, spitting out five different ways to dodge the patrols or trick a toll guard with a bent coin and a crooked smile. Strategy was the one language she spoke without stumbling. Orders, moving pieces, outmaneuvering men with badges and grudges - those were the things that usually made sense to her.

But tonight, her thoughts kept skipping like a scratched record. Siuan tried to listen, she really did. But every time she tried to focus, it slipped sideways.

“So,” Alanna said at last, voice cutting through the fog. “Enlighten me, boss – what do you think? Or do I gotta carry the whole plan myself tonight?”

Siuan blinked like she’d just been dragged back from a far-off place. She leaned over the map, squinting, pretending to study it like the lines might rearrange themselves into something she could understand. Pinkertons. New routes. The fence. Her brain scraped to pull the words back together, but it seemed like a puzzle with half the pieces missing.

“So… we’d normally run up by the Kamassa River, right?”

“Yeah, except that area’s swarmin’ with patrols now. You seein’ the problem here?” Alanna prompted, tapping a finger on the map. “If we cross here…,” she drew her nail along the river’s curve, “…we risk runnin‘ into Pinkertons. And if we head west, we skirt ‘em, but it puts us right by the Braithwaite orchard. And you know how them bastards get when someone so much as sneezes near their damn apples.”

Siuan exhaled through her nose, nodding absently. “We should probably… I don’t know, keep it light. Minimal cargo. Travel fast. No dawdlin’. Less to haul if we need to run.”

Alanna gave a hum, but her eyes lingered too long. “Usually you’d have some wild twist by now. One of your slippery shortcuts or schemes in your back pocket.” Her head tilted. “You’re off tonight. Saint Denis really did a number on you, huh?”

Siuan shrugged, glancing away, fingers fussing with the brittle edge of the map. “Just tired.” She tried to laugh, but it cracked halfway up her throat and died there.

She could feel Alanna watching her. Not just looking - watching. Like the woman was trying to peel back her every layer. But then, she slid the map aside and gave Siuan’s shoulder a gentle clap. “This about Moiraine? Did you two fight or somethin’?”

Siuan froze mid-breath, mouth half-open, unsure what lie to grab onto.

“She’s been off all day as well,” Alanna went on, easy, almost casual. “Didn’t say much – well, less than usual, I mean. Kept glancin’ at the ridge like she was waitin’ for a long-lost lover. Then you show up, and you’re sweatin’ just to keep from lookin’ her way, and she’s standin’ over there lookin’ like someone kicked her dog.”

Still, Siuan said nothing. Her mouth opened, then shut again.

Alanna softened. “Look,” she said, dropping the sass, voice lowered with something real beneath it, “I know you two have… well, that kind of closeness that makes folks stop and wonder. And it ain’t my business. But if somethin’s gone sideways, maybe I can help. Or at least give you mediocre advice and pour you a stiff drink while I do it.”

Siuan just stared at her friend, heart hammering. So she knew - or guessed damn well enough. Siuan and Moiraine had never spoken their relationship out loud, not to anyone. She feared folks might’ve sensed it, sure. But hearing it put that plain made her feel like she’d been seen naked in the middle of town square.

“Not sure what you’re talkin’ about,” Siuan lied weakly.

“Uh-huh. Right.” Alanna folded her arms, lips quirking just slightly. “Well. Whatever is goin’ on with you… or her… or both of you, you look like you could use a whole damn barrel. But we’ll start with a bottle. How does that sound?”

Siuan hesitated. She wasn’t supposed to be drinking, pretending the world wasn’t falling apart under her boots. But on the other hand… if a bottle could stitch her back together for an hour or two – or at least give her that illusion - maybe that was worth it.

“Alright,” she said finally. “Why the hell not.”

Alanna’s grin widened. She grabbed Siuan’s elbow and hauled her up with surprising enthusiasm. “Now that’s the boss I know.”

She led her toward their liquor stash, a half-hidden collection of crates tucked behind the supply tent. The firelight didn’t quite reach here, just cast enough shadow to make it feel like a secret.

Alanna crouched and fished through a battered trunk. “Tonight,” she announced, “you get mid-shelf. Decent enough to burn out your worries, not so cheap it’ll melt your insides.”

“Perfect,” Siuan muttered.

The other woman pulled out a squat amber bottle, popped the cork with a flick, and handed it over with a dramatic flourish. “First swig is yours, boss. Maybe it'll put some life back in your cheeks.”

Siuan took it without a word and tilted it straight back. The whiskey scorched all the way down, dragging a cough out of her she barely held back. The copper tang of blood bloomed behind her teeth, but swallowed it down like another shot of regret.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she clutched the bottle like a lifeline. “Mind grabbin’ your own?” she rasped. “Sharin’ is… well, not on the table tonight.”

Alanna arched a brow. “Boss is in that kind of mood, huh?” She snatched a second bottle from the crate, cracked it open, and raised it in a mock toast. “Well then. Here’s to Pinkertons, orchard bastards, and all the other nuisances that keep us from sleepin’.”

Siuan forced a grin, though it didn’t feel like it belonged on her face. “Hear, hear,” she said, and took another mouthful - deeper this time. It burned so fierce her eyes stung, but at least it shut everything else up for a moment.

For a while, they drank in silence - companionable, in that way only outlaws could manage; shoulders brushing, eyes on the dark beyond the camp, ears tuned to every crackle of flame. Siuan meant to pace herself, she really did. But the more she drank, the easier it became to keep drinking. Her friend noticed the pace, at least her eyes said so, but she didn’t comment.

Siuan found herself gulping bigger and bigger swigs just to drown the suffocating terror in her chest. The liquor carved a fiery path down her throat, momentarily overshadowing the metallic taste she’d been fighting all day. For the moment, it helped quell the storm in her mind… or at least bury it behind a wall of numbness.

And just as the world began to blur around the edges, Siuan felt a prickling of awareness - like someone watching too closely. She looked up, heart stuttering when she saw Moiraine approaching. The low lamplight fell on her features, outlining the slight arch to her eyebrows - an expression halfway between worry and exasperation.

“Alanna. Siuan…” she greeted, her voice even but cold enough to make Siuan want to vanish into the dirt.

Moiraine’s eyes flicked to the bottle in Siuan’s hand, then to Alanna, then back to her. “Is there a reason to celebrate that I’m not aware of?” A pause, measured. “You didn’t come find me when you got back.”

Siuan’s throat tightened, and the words she wanted to say tangled into a mass of thorns. She shrugged, hollow. “Alanna talked me into a drink or two,” she muttered, adding a laugh that was little more than a cracked mask. “Figured I’d unwind.”

Moiraine’s gaze shifted again, this time landing on Alanna, who wore an exaggerated look of feigned innocence. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said lightly. “Just thought I’d be helpin’. Your… dear friend here needed some whiskey therapy. I was merely the helpful dispenser.”

Siuan felt the burn rush back to her cheeks. “Dear friend.” Saints above. Alanna didn’t just toss the match, she’d set the whole tent on fire. And when Moiraine’s lips parted - just slightly, a breath caught too sharp - it was clear the implication had landed.

The huntress cleared her throat, visibly working to keep her composure. “I don’t mind if the two of you want a drink,” she said, voice still calm, though there was an edge now. “But I’d like a word with Siuan. About Saint Denis.”

Siuan went rigid. Her grip on the bottle tightened until her knuckles showed white. “Ain’t much to say,” she rasped, harsher than she meant. “I’m fine. Man said I’ll live.” The lie tasted sour in her mouth, and she knew Moiraine, of all people, would sense the untruth in her tone. “I’m just… tired. Need to unwind a bit. That all right?”

Moiraine’s expression faltered. Not much, just a flicker, like a crack spidering through glass. Confusion, then hurt, then gone, buried under steel.

Even through the haze of liquor, guilt slammed into Siuan’s chest. She didn’t want to hurt Moiraine, but she also couldn’t bring herself to face this yet. Not now, not tonight, not with Alanna being here, not while being drunk.

“If that’s what you want,” Moiraine said after a beat, and there was a bite to it now. Her eyes lingered on Siuan, long enough to make it clear that she saw through the lie, and then, with a stiff turn, she walked away.

Siuan watched her go. And only when the huntress vanished into shadow did she release a shaky, pathetic exhale that emptied her chest in one go. She squeezed her eyes shut and lifted the bottle to her lips, ignoring Alanna’s pointed look. The whiskey burned, but at least it shielded her – briefly - from the anguish of that moment.

Her friend sighed, swirling her own drink. “Siuan,” she said, a bit quieter now, “I don’t know what’s goin’ on with you tonight, but you realize you just made things worse, right?”

Siuan didn’t answer.

“Moiraine ain’t the type to just let you slide,” Alanna continued. “You can’t give her the cold shoulder like that and expect it to blow over.”

Siuan grunted. “We ain’t welded together.”

Alanna snorted. “Maybe not. But the heat between you is enough to melt steel.”

Siuan looked away, jaw tight.

“I ain’t blind.” Alanna gave her a sidelong look. “You share a tent. Share these looks. And now you bicker like old married folk. I’d have to be dead not to notice.” She took a sip, then added casually, “I’ve known for ages. Lan too, I reckon. Ever since New Year’s.”

Siuan’s eyes dropped to the dirt between her boots. This day truly felt like too much. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. Not any conversation, really.

“But y‘know,” Alanna continued, propping her chin in her palm, “most folks ‘round here don’t care who you crawl under the blankets with. As long as you hold your own, as you both do.” Her gaze softened further, no sass left now. “So if you’re avoidin’ her, it’s not ‘cause of what we’ll think. Might want to ask yourself who you’re really hidin’ from.”

The guilt came rushing back in full force. “I’m not…,” Siuan started, but the denial felt false. She clenched her jaw and took another swig of whiskey to try to numb it, letting the burn scorch away the words she couldn’t speak.

Alanna watched her a moment longer, then gently tapped the side of her bottle against Siuan’s. “To complicated… situations,” she said, with a small grin, “and even more complicated women.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“But I don’t mean Moiraine.” Alanna added with a smirk.

Siuan managed a jerky nod and a smirk. “You don‘t say.”

Time passed strange after that. Could’ve been ten minutes, could’ve been an hour. She sat slouched on the crate, bottle dangling from her fingers, her gaze fixed past the glow of the lantern into the dark woods like it might whisper a way out of this mess if she just waited long enough.

The more she drank, the less her thoughts stayed in one place. Her mind drifted like a leaf on a black current. Sometimes she saw the doctor’s face, heard those words again. Sometimes she saw Moiraine, that night up in the Grizzlies, their limbs tangled, their hearts bare. All of it haunted now. All of it tainted with an expiration date.

At some point, the sound of footsteps broke through the haze. Siuan blinked up blearily to find Lan stepping into view, quiet as ever. He glanced at both of them, offering a polite nod.

“Evening, ladies,” he said. “I see you’re taking stock of our… supplies.” That last word held just the faintest edge of wry humor.

Alanna grinned, raising her bottle in theatrical salute. “We’re conductin‘ quality control, naturally. Wouldn’t want the crew gettin’ poisoned by subpar spirits. We’re heroes, really.”

“Ah.” Lan’s mouth twitched. A near-smile. “How thorough of you.”

Siuan tried to match it, tried to summon even half a smirk, but her face didn’t cooperate. She watched as Alanna held out her bottle in silent offering. Lan accepted it, sniffed once, then took a sip.

“Mm,” he murmured. “Aged… questionably.”

“Booze is booze,” Alanna said with a shrug, lounging back against a crate. “Guess that makes the three of us tonight’s night watch.” She nodded toward the main camp, where firelight was fading and tents had gone still.

Lan nodded, but his eyes didn’t stray from Siuan. “You’re drinking harder than usual.

Siuan took another swig, let it roll down her throat like poison she’d chosen. “Did Moiraine send you?”

He didn’t bother denying it. “She’s worried.”

Of course she was. Of course she was. How could she not be?

“She said you came back from Saint Denis… different.”

Siuan gave a dry, humorless chuckle. “You two always gossipin’ ‘bout me?”

“She’s just worried, Siuan,” he repeated.

Siuan rubbed at her brow with the heel of her hand. “City left me in a dark mood, is all. Didn’t mean to…” Her throat closed up. “Didn’t mean to come back already halfway gone.”

Alanna cut in, wagging a finger like she was preaching gospel. “Saint Denis is haunted, I swear. All them fancy folk suckin’ out your soul while you ain’t lookin’.” She cast a sly glance at Siuan. “But somethin’ tells me it’s more than city ghosts givin’ you that hollow look.”

Siuan stiffened. The bottle felt heavier than it had minutes ago, like it held more than liquor now. She was drunk enough to talk, but not drunk enough to forget she shouldn’t. But the weight of it all… it crushed her.

She exhaled, long and low. Then gave them a sliver of truth. “Yeah,” she murmured. “It’s more than that.”

Alanna’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t press. Neither did Lan. They just waited, patiently, giving Siuan the space she needed to walk her way toward the edge.

She tilted her head back, eyes tracing constellations she didn’t know the names of. A million stars scattered across the black night sky. They were so cold and clear, and so damn far away it made everything she was feel like a cracked bottle floating in a wide ocean. All this vastness… it made her troubles feel both monumental and trivial.

“I saw a doc,” she said finally. “About the cough. He gave me… some mighty unpleasant news.” She let the pause linger. “And I can’t quite figure out how to face it yet.”

Lan’s brow furrowed. “Can it be fixed?”

She shook her head, mouth twisting bitterly. “Not exactly. Or if it can, it’s… complicated. Expensive. Maybe pointless.” She took another gulp of whiskey and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “Look, I’d rather not say much more. Not till I…” She swallowed. “Not till I can talk to Moiraine. But I don’t know how to tell her. I really don’t.”

Another beat of silence. The kind that felt full.

Lan and Alanna exchanged a look. It wasn’t loud, wasn’t dramatic, but it hummed with concern. Siuan didn’t need them to spell it out - she could feel it in her bones. She stared down at the bottle, the dirt, her scuffed boots. Anywhere but their faces.

“Moiraine’s tougher than most,” Lan said at last. “And she deserves to know, no matter how grim it might be.”

Siuan let out a sharp scoff that almost cracked into a sob. She clenched her jaw. “You think I don’t know that?” she snapped. “You don’t get it. I might be her goddamn ruin.”

The words were out before she could strangle them back down. And now they sat there, raw and ugly in the cold night air.

Lan’s eyes flickered, alarmed. But Alanna was already reaching over, touching his arm in a silent ‘not here, not now’. Then she turned to Siuan, her voice gentler than it had been all night. “Sometimes,” she said, “you can’t protect the people you love by shuttin’ them out. The truth ain’t always kind, but neither is silence.”

Siuan blinked hard, fighting the burn behind her eyes. “The people you love.” Alanna didn’t say it like a question. She didn’t say it with scandal. Just plain, like it was the simplest thing.

“I know,” Siuan whispered. “I just... I need a little more time.”

“She’ll give you all the time you need,” Lan said quietly. “But don’t drown yourself while you’re waiting. Too much of the bottle just makes it worse. Blurs everything that matters.”

Siuan let her eyes fall shut. “Blur sounds about right,” she muttered. “At least for tonight.”

Her two friends traded another glance, and a quiet surrender passed between them. With a resigned sigh, Alanna raised her own bottle, took a slow sip. “Well,” she said wryly, “if we’re all gonna be miserable, might as well do it together.”

Lan gave a low chuckle, then stepped back. “You do you. I‘m heading to bed,” he said, already turning away. Then, as if an afterthought, “You know we’ve got your back, Siuan. Always. We’re family.” His gaze flicked momentarily to Alanna, some silent message passing between them, and then he was gone, disappearing back into camp.

Alanna lingered. “Lan’s right,” she said after a while. “But I ain’t gonna lecture you - yet. You’re stubborn as hell. You’ll get there your own fool way.”

Siuan huffed. “What a goddamn flatterin’ summary of my personality.”

The other woman shrugged, smirking. “Ain’t that why mysterious huntresses from the woods fall for you? You’re a tough old boot.” She let the remark hang, surely enjoying how Siuan’s face flushed again. “Anyway. I need some sleep. Pretty sure I’ll start spoutin’ nonsense if I don’t shut up soon.”

She stood with a sway and patted Siuan’s shoulder. “Don’t sleep in the dirt, yeah? Your fancy friend might not be the only one who’s ticked if you catch your death out here.”

Siuan winced at that. God, if Alanna only knew…

Her friend turned to go, but after a few paces, she glanced over her shoulder. “You sure you’re alright? Need help gettin’ to bed?”

Siuan managed a tired smile and waved her off. “I’m fine. Go on.”

Now truly alone, silence settled around Siuan like a second skin. She leaned back on the crate and let the whiskey hum through her blood. A mild breeze whispered through the trees, almost summery. The main fire had burned to embers and the only light came from a few lanterns left swinging from posts and the thin slice of moon above.

Siuan’s eyes drifted toward the tent she should’ve been in. Their tent.

Part of her yearned for the comfort of that space, Moiraine’s warmth pressed against her, the sound of her breathing in the quiet hours of night. She just wanted to lie beside her, pretend they were still okay.

But she couldn’t. Not like this. Not with her lungs full of disease and her heart half-shattered with dread.

No. She couldn’t risk it.

The decision made itself. She stood, swaying slightly, then turned - away from the comfort of that tent, toward the dark trees at the camp’s edge. The world tilted under her boots, but she made it a few paces before a wave of nausea buckled her knees. She grabbed onto the nearest tree, pressing her forehead against the rough bark.

The earth swayed.

She slid down into the grass, not caring about the damp that soaked through her trousers. Another wave of dizziness washed over her, and she closed her eyes, hoping sleep would claim her quickly.

Pain throbbed in her chest - not sharp, not screaming, just… there. Like something old and cruel had taken up residence behind her ribs. Whether it was the illness or the heartbreak, she couldn’t say. Maybe both. Probably both.

Soon, the liquor, the silence, and the weight of too many unsaid things dragged her down into blackness like a stone tossed into a well.

*

Siuan came to all at once, like the world slapped her awake.

The sun was blinding, already high and hot. She squinted, groaning as pain knifed through her skull. Her head throbbed, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth like paper. She blinked against the brightness and rolled her stiff neck with a wince. Her back screamed from sleeping slumped against a tree, and her mouth tasted like a rag soaked in old whiskey and rust.

She spat into the grass with a grimace. For a moment, she just sat there, half-lost, hungover, disoriented. Then it hit, came rushing back and crashing over her like a freight train.

Saint Denis. The clinic. Tuberculosis. Alanna. Whiskey. Moiraine.

The memories seized her chest in a grip of iron. Siuan swore under her breath and pressed her palm to her temple, trying to will herself not to throw up or cough or cry.

She hadn’t even gotten the strength to stand yet when a shadow passed over her face. She looked up slowly, squinting into the sun.

Moiraine loomed over her, arms crossed, framed by the morning glow of the waking day. Her hair was loose and tousled, eyes sharp but rimmed with fatigue. She looked like she hadn’t rested at all last night. And now here she was, looking down at Siuan like she was seeing through every damn lie Siuan hadn’t even said yet.

Siuan scrambled upright, too fast, wincing as the world tilted again. She planted her boots in the grass and tried to sit straighter, but she knew she probably looked as hungover and pathetic as she felt.

“We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

“We need to talk.”

Siuan focused her gaze on Moiraine's face - or forced it, more like - and the moment her brown eyes locked with blue ones, she wished they hadn’t. The other woman stood stiff as a statue, not a tremble to her stance, but her expression was cold like frost spreading over glass, barely hiding the quake underneath. She just stared her down, sharp and unrelenting, mouth drawn in that tight little line that meant hell was coming. But beneath the fury, there was something else shimmering in her expression, something raw and breakable - a crack in the glass. Fear maybe, tangled up in all that fire.

Siuan’s lips parted. Some attempt at a smile tangled up in a halfhearted drawl, but it withered before it had the chance to live. 

“Good mornin’ to you, too,” she muttered, too casual for the immediate tension between them. 

“Don’t give me that,” Moiraine snapped. “You come back from Saint Denis, won’t even look me in the eye, avoid the tent like it’s on fire, and then you drink yourself senseless out here in the dirt... I think I’m owed an explanation.”

Siuan shifted and tried to straighten up, but her spine protested like it’d been rusted through. Her legs were rubber and her insides were sour with whiskey, regret and shame. The bottle glinted in the grass beside her, near-empty and mocking – if a bottle could mock.

She pressed a hand to her temple. Her skull felt like it’d been split and stitched back wrong, the drumbeat of pain matching the frantic pounding of her pulse. “Look,” she croaked, “I’m sorry I worried you. It’s… complicated.”

Complicated. She nearly spat at the word after saying it. It felt weak and pathetic even to her own ears. What wasn’t complicated these days? Her health? Her life? The fact that Moiraine was still a runaway royal while pretending to be anything but? The oath Siuan had made to protect her, no matter the cost? That very task that was now rearing up impossible?

Moiraine’s next words sliced through her thoughts.

“No, I won't accept that, Siuan.” Her arms were clutched around herself now, like if she let go, she might splinter clean through. She took a step closer, and Siuan felt the pull like gravity. “You told Lan the same thing last night… ‘it’s complicated’… he told me, you know. But I’m not him. I won’t just nod and turn away while you drown in your own misery.”

Moiraine’s mouth opened like she had more to throw, but she hesitated, as though afraid of what the next sentence might bring. Her gaze darted down to the whiskey bottle, and then back to Siuan’s ashen cheeks.

“What did the doctor tell you?” she asked, quieter now. Still tight, still razor-edged. 

Siuan’s chest clamped up so hard she thought she might puke right at Moiraine’s boots. Her vision blurred, and she swallowed, already tasting copper – phantom or real. She tried to focus on the trees, the shafts of gold filtering through the pines, anything but the woman standing in front of her with eyes full of questions.

“I thought maybe it was the bullet wound,” Moiraine continued, turning desperate now. “But you’ve looked worse every day. And now you won’t even talk to me, let alone come near me. I can’t-” her voice cracked, just a little, “I can’t stand not knowing what's wrong with you.”

Tears prickled behind Siuan’s eyes. Her mouth moved uselessly, but the words didn’t come. The next breath she took got caught in her throat. She coughed - once, twice - and then it seized her whole body in a brutal wave. She doubled over, ribs screaming like they were lined with barbed wire, each hack shredding them anew. When it passed, when she could breathe again, her tongue caught the taste of blood, sharp and metallic, warm as spilled iron.

Moiraine dropped beside her in the grass like she’d been thrown. The sunlight gilded her dark hair in a halo that made her look every inch the lost royal she was. Too fine, too breakable to be kneeling in the dirt beside a dying outlaw.

“Siuan-”

“Don’t,” she rasped, jerking her shoulder weakly. Moiraine’s hand landed firm on that shoulder anyway, like she’d already decided that she wasn’t letting go, no matter how ugly things got.

Siuan hated how much she needed that touch right now. She’d been drifting so long, and here was someone willing to anchor her. Just like that. Just when it was too damn late for her. 

Moiraine’s gaze scoured her face, reading her like scripture. And what she saw there must’ve chilled her to the bone. It was written all over her face; the worry hadn’t just deepened, it rooted in.

“You’re still coughing like this. Still not improving...” her voice was flat now, full with grief not yet spoken but already known. “Lan told me the doctor said something serious. Please, Siuan… don’t make me guess.”

All the breath Siuan had left in her body seemed to vanish. Her shoulders sank, heavy with everything she’d been holding back. She was so damn tired; tired of the fear, the lies, the ache that gnawed at her each time she dared to think of a future with this woman.

She had to say it. She had to break Moiraine’s heart. 

Siuan swallowed hard, forcing the words past the knot that’d been sitting there since Saint Denis. “It’s bad, Moiraine,” she said finally. “Real bad.”

Moiraine’s hand slipped into hers, lacing their fingers like it was nothing, but it meant everything. That closeness was nearly Siuan’s undoing, but she clung to it all the same.

“I have tuberculosis,” she choked out.

And the world went still.

The wind suddenly died. The crows in the trees seemed to stop their racket. The hush was almost eerie, like the land itself was grieving with them.

“No,” Moiraine whispered. A single, fragile word. Barely air.

Siuan didn’t look up. Couldn’t. Her eyes stayed glued to the dirt. Brown earth, cracked and dried out, just like what was left of her future.

“Doc reckons it’s advanced,” she muttered, mouth twisting in bitterness. “Said maybe a year, maybe months. Could go either way. Even with treatment, it’s a coin toss.”

Moiraine rose as if the ground burned her. One hand clutched her forehead like she was trying to hold her skull together, the other gripped at air as she paced in small, frantic circles. For a moment she stopped, head bowed, fists clenched like she was praying - or cussing out the gods. Then she turned, fast. 

“Why didn’t you tell me last night?” Her voice trembled.

Siuan stared up at her, broken open. “Didn’t know how,” she whispered. Tears sat heavy at the corners of her eyes, stinging like acid. “Didn’t wanna see that look on your face. Didn’t wanna risk passin’ it on, neither. I thought... if I stayed away... maybe...”

Moiraine hissed a sound and shook her head, slow and disbelieving, like she couldn’t believe the sheer stupidity of it. “And you thought it’d hurt less if you just vanish into the trees and drink yourself into the ground?” 

“I thought… I thought I’d spare you,” Siuan admitted silently, shame coiled tight in her chest. “Figured if I hadn’t infected you already, maybe I’d keep it that way. And I...” Her throat closed up again. “I couldn’t stand watchin’ you waste your time with me when I ain’t even sure I got a damn chance.”

Moiraine blinked. Her eyes were glassy now too, but she didn’t crumble yet. She moved with the kind of purpose that could shake mountains, kneeling back down in the dirt like she meant to plant roots there beside Siuan and stay there forever. Her fingers reached out, catching one of Siuan’s escaping tears with the side of her thumb. Her voice came fierce and shaking with love that refused to be pushed away. “Don’t I get a say in any of this? Don’t you trust me enough to fight this with you?”

“This ain’t about trust,” Siuan whispered, one breath away from escaping her lover’s touch, one blink away from collapsing right there in her arms. “You know I trust you with all that I am.”

Moiraine’s own tears started to fall then, silver tracks down those porcelain cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed locked on Siuan’s, steady as a vow. “I won’t let you go without a fight. So Lord help me, I’ll claw and scratch at the world itself if I must.”

Siuan’s breath shuddered out of her. She knew better than to underestimate these words. There was this fire in these blue eyes again. That regal stubbornness that was part of what she loved most about this woman - and feared the most too. Because Moiraine didn’t quit, not when it mattered. She’d throw herself into a pit of vipers if it meant saving someone she cared for. A friend. A lover.

“There’s nothin’ to do, Moiraine. Doc said the air out west might help,” Siuan said, shaking her head. “But the real shot’s a sanatorium out in New Austin. Clean air, nurses, doctors – whole fancy setup. But it costs more than I’ve seen in ten years’ worth of jobs.”

“Then we find the money,” Moiraine said without missing a beat.

Siuan almost laughed, but it came out as a grim bark instead. “There ain’t no money,” she bit out. “We’re livin’ day to day, hand to mouth. And I sure as hell won't lead the gang into another death trap like Gareth used to do. We got nothin’. Hell, we can’t even scrounge up enough coin for new boots. A sanatorium like this?” Her mouth twisted. “We’d be lucky if they let me die on the porch.”

But Moiraine didn’t flinch. Her chin tilted up, all that stubborn determination turning her features to stone. 

“I am money.”

The words were simple, but they slapped Siuan across the face like a cold wind. She froze, eyes locked on Moiraine’s.

“Beg pardon?” she managed, even though she already knew what was coming.

She studied Moiraine’s rigid posture, the way her cheeks had paled. Siuan hated the understanding that bloomed in her mind. “You’re talkin’ about going back,” she breathed. “You’re talkin’ about lettin’ them take you. Back to that hell you ran from. Back to those people who -” She couldn’t finish and took a sharp breath instead. The thought alone knocked the air from her lungs.

Moiraine said nothing but her silence told everything.

“Damn it, Moiraine…” Siuan felt her pulse roar in her ears. “You can’t be serious!”

Still, Moiraine’s silence pressed on, as though she’d already made her choice.

Siuan wanted to scream. Or grab Moiraine by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. “You think I’d let you do that?” she snarled. "Huh?"

Moiraine’s gaze slipped away, as though she couldn’t bear to hold Siuan’s eyes any longer. “What choice do we have?”

“Any other damn choice!” Siuan snapped. “If they drag you back… you’ll be locked up in that golden cage. Maybe married off or worse.” Her voice broke on that last word. “Don’t do that to me. Don’t throw yourself into the fire just to buy me a few more months.”

Moiraine’s jaw locked tight, that stubborn defiance flaring through the sorrow. “And you think I can just sit here and watch you die?”

She spoke the word 'die' in a near whisper, but it was the most raw and brutal sound Siuan had ever heard. It tore through whatever remained of her composure, fed the rising panic that clawed at her throat. “I’d rather die a thousand times,” she snapped. “You hear me? A thousand times, than see you shackled to that life again!”

Moiraine’s throat bobbed, and for a fleeting second, the sorrow behind her eyes threatened to spill over again. But it didn’t. Moiraine held the line. “Then what’s your alternative?” she demanded. “Drink yourself to death before the sickness can finish the job?”

Siuan’s anger flared hot, a defense against the terror welling inside. “Maybe,” she bit out. “Maybe that’d be faster. Hell of a lot better than your plan.”

Moiraine’s eyes flinched shut like the words had slapped her clean across the face. When she opened them again, her voice was shredded to ribbons. “You’re being cruel.”

“So are you,” Siuan shot back - but the venom didn’t land. Her words crumpled halfway, hollow and aching, like everything else inside her.

For a long moment, they stared at each other, the tension between them a living, hungry thing feeding of everything neither of them could fix. Siuan was half convinced one of them might storm away or say something they couldn’t take back. She could feel it - that edge. One wrong word, one wrong blink, and they'd fall off it. Shatter whatever was left.

But then she looked at Moiraine, truly looked at her. At the tremble in her arms and shoulders. At the way her tears on her lashes were catching the light like diamonds. And just like that, something inside Siuan gave way.

She bowed her head, exhaled slowly, and let the moment pass like a wave crashing and retreating. “Damn it,” she muttered. “I’m sorry, alright? I don’t want to talk like this. I just - I’m terrified, Moiraine.”

“And you think I’m not?” the other woman whispered back, but the heat in her voice bled out as she exhaled, shoulders falling. Then her hand reached for Siuan again, cautious now, fingers curling gentle around her upper arm, trying to close the space between them.

But Siuan recoiled, quick and instinctive. She pressed the heel of her palm flat against Moiraine’s chest like a wall between them, built out of fear. The pain on her lover's face cut deep, and Siuan felt the wound she’d just opened. But still, she couldn’t relent.

“No, Moiraine,” Siuan rasped, fear sharpening her voice. “Doc said I might give it to you. Might’ve already. Especially when we…” She swallowed, her cheeks burning despite everything. “When we were close. Properly, I mean. ”

The memories flickered between them; the heat of it, the weight of skin and breath and want. “That’s not something we can take back,” Moiraine said after a beat. “And if I'm infected, there’s no sense pushing me away now.”

“But maybe there’s still a chance I didn’t pass it on,” Siuan murmured, then swallowed, bracing herself for the next words. “You’re safer if we ain’t… if we don’t do that again. Bein’ close.”

The blue in the other woman’s eyes flashed - part wounded, part defiant. “I have never cared for ‘safe’ when it comes to you.”

“Well, I do,” Siuan growled, but her voice cracked right through the middle, betrayed by the panic churning inside her. “I’d rather rot out here alone, knowin’ I kept you from gettin’ sick, than have you follow me into the grave.”

Another tremor moved through Moiraine’s shoulders. “You really think I can watch you waste away without trying to help? Without even holding you when you’re in pain?” She set her jaw, fresh tears glinting in her eyes. “We can’t pretend we’re strangers.”

“We ain’t strangers,” Siuan mumbled. “But we can damn well act like we got sense.”

Moiraine drew in a sharp, even breath, like she was chewing down a scream. “Fine,” she said. The word was clipped and measured, like it cost her. “We’ll find a middle ground. We won’t share a bed, but I won’t leave you out here to freeze like some dying animal.” She hesitated, then her voice softened, just barely. “You take the bed. But let me stay in the tent’s entry.”

Siuan’s heart twisted. She wanted to say no, wanted to push Moiraine away again, act noble, do the hard thing, like it might buy her some salvation. But the truth was, she needed Moiraine like a drowning man needed air. She ached for that closeness, craved the hush of arms around her. Just one more day. One more night. But she couldn’t - wouldn’t - let the same rope tighten around both their necks.

“What, you sleep half in and half outta the tent?” she laughed bitterly. "On the ground?"

The huntress gave a dry shrug, like she’d already made peace with how ridiculous it sounded. “If that’s what it takes. For now, I just want to be where I can hear you if you… if you cough like that again.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“It ain’t exactly comfortable,” Siuan grumbled, looking away. “I’m just fine outside. You take the bed.”

“I can bear a little discomfort,” Moiraine answered, and gave a sad little smile. Not amused, just tired. “You need to lie down, rest. You look…” She trailed off, as if the truth was too cruel to finish. “You look... tired.”

The two of them sat with it for a long moment. Long enough for the world to feel far away. The bitterness of old whiskey still coated Siuan’s tongue. She coughed again, and noticed the way Moiraine flinched as though physically struck. But she didn’t move, didn’t back away.

“Alright,” Siuan breathed at last, voice flat with exhaustion and resignation. “I reckon catchin’ up on sleep ain’t the worst idea.”

Moiraine’s shoulders eased, just barely. She moved forward like she meant to fold Siuan into her arms, but the second Siuan tensed, she stopped. Her hands hovered, then fell, slow and empty, but the longing in her face was as fierce as the morning sun.

“Let me take you to rest,” she said quietly. “And get you some tea.”

She then rose with that certain grace she could never fully hide, then brushed grass off her skirts. “Come on.” She held out a hand and Siuan, after a beat, took it.

Together, they made their way back to the camp and stepped inside their canvas shelter. Inside, Siuan sank onto her thin bedroll. She peeled off her boots but kept the rest on. It felt like an extra shield against the world, or maybe against her own fear.

“Drink,” Moiraine murmured, pressing a tin cup into Siuan’s hand. “I made it earlier. Figured you might need it against the headache and nausea. Sage and ginger tea.”

Siuan took it without a word, let the heat soak into her fingers. She barely noticed the pain now, barely felt the throb in her head or the sandpaper burn in her chest. Everything dulled when Moiraine was near. Still, every time she reached to brush a stray hair from Siuan’s cheek, or pull the blanket up, Siuan twitched away. And each time, it felt like cutting both of them open with a dull knife. Moiraine never said a word, but the flicker of hurt in her eyes told the whole story.

It was worse than a bullet, really, but Siuan held her ground. She longed for the warmth of Moiraine’s touch, but not at the cost of her life. The risk was too damn high.

Minutes passed in tight silence. Eventually, exhaustion sank its teeth in, and Siuan’s eyelids drooped. Before she fully tumbled into sleep, she caught a last glimpse of her lover's silhouette, rigid with worry and chin tucked down like she was holding in all the sorrow she didn’t dare speak aloud.

*

When Siuan woke again, the light was gone.

The tent was hot, almost stifling. Her shirt clung to her back, damp with sweat, and her throat scratched like it had been lined with dust and gravel. She licked her cracked lips, tried to swallow, but it was like trying to gulp down ash. Her limbs felt leaden, too heavy for a body this hollow. Fever, maybe. Or dreams that left behind no shape, only dread.

Her eyes flicked up on instinct, landing on the old dreamcatcher strung above the cot. She didn’t spare it much thought these days. It had become just another thing that belonged, like the walls of the tent or the low sound of Moiraine’s breathing beside her. Only… there wasn’t no breathing now. Not next to her, not at all.

Siuan shoved upright, head spinning. The blankets Moiraine had laid near the entrance were neatly folded and untouched. No dent, no warmth left behind, her side of the tent empty as a grave.

Siuan was out of bed in a blink. She scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over her boots where she’d kicked them half-off earlier. Her ribs cramped up hard, a sharp seize that doubled her over. The cough came fast and brutal, ripped through her like claws. She pressed a hand to her chest, tasted blood, and still kept moving.

A cruel panic rose inside her. She needed air, needed eyes on Moiraine - now. Surely she was just outside, maybe sitting by the fire with Lan or checking on the supplies with Alanna.

Siuan not even laced her boots properly before she shoved out through the tent flap, staggering into the night like a drunk. The clearing was silver-washed, lit by moonlight and shadows. Crickets chirped in that uneven, broken rhythm that only made the silence louder.

Her gaze swept the camp, frantic. No Moiraine by the fire. No Moiraine by the ledger box. No Moiraine sitting quiet with a cup in her hands and that guarded look she wore like armor.

"For Christ's sake..."

Siuan staggered forward, headed toward the hitching post, and then stopped cold; one of the horses was gone. That damn, white, beloved mare. The one that glowed like moonlight itself, pale enough to catch any fool’s eye.

Moiraine’s. Gone.

A cold wave of realization crashed over Siuan, nearly buckling her knees. She didn’t need a map to realize where this was headed. Her lover was gone, and Siuan knew in her bones it had everything to do with that talk they’d had in the morning. If Moiraine had ridden off in the dead of night… it could only mean one damn thing. The promise of money. The cost of a potential cure.

Siuan shoved down the scream clawing at her throat and turned, half-running, half-stumbling across the clearing to Lan’s tent. The flap was part open. Inside, the glow of a lantern pooled gold over the walls, catching on the katana Lan was cleaning. His movements were calm, methodical, like the ground hadn’t just split open under Siuan’s feet.

She didn’t knock, she barged in.

Lan’s head jerked up, brows drawn tight. “Siuan? What in the-?”

“Where is she?” Siuan demanded, breath wheezing past her lungs. “Where’s Moiraine?”

He stood fast, katana already set aside. “What do you mean?”

“She ain’t in our tent. Her horse is gone. Tell me you know where she is.”

Lan blinked, frown deepening. “You think she left? This late? Did you two have another fight?”

“No, goddamn,” Siuan cried out, pressing a clammy hand to her brow. She staggered backward, eyes darting toward the dark treeline outside like she expected Moiraine to come walking back right then. But the woods whispered only with the breeze, offering no sign of the woman.

Something twisted in her chest, a violent ache that didn’t come from the sickness - no, this was even worse. If Moiraine had truly gone to turn herself in… Siuan clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palms.

Lan stepped closer. “Take a breath, Siuan. She might’ve gone for supplies. Or scouting. I’m sure-”

“She sure as hell wouldn’t do it at midnight without a word to you or me,” Siuan snapped. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to reel back the panic. “Not unless she didn’t plan to come back.”

Lan’s mouth pressed into a line but he didn’t ask what Siuan meant by that, didn’t ask why she looked ready to break apart right there. He looked concerned, sure, but also confused, like he couldn’t quite see the shape of what had her unraveling. But how could he? He didn’t know Moiraine’s name wasn’t Moiraine. Didn’t know that if she so much as stepped into the wrong building in the wrong town, she'd vanish in shackles, bound for a continent she’d bled to escape. Didn’t know that a single misstep might cost Moiraine her freedom and more.

“You’re sure her horse is gone?” he asked. “Maybe it just wandered off somewhere.”

“Her horse is gone. Her bedroll is untouched.”  

“She leave her things?”

Siuan nodded once. “Far as I saw.”

Lan’s jaw worked, gears turning behind his eyes. “Then she plans to come back. Maybe just needed some air.”

Siuan stared at him. “You don’t know that.”

“She didn’t take her things.”

“She didn’t take me, neither,” she snapped, anxiety turning to anger at her own helplessness. “I… this… I shoulda-” Her voice broke.

She turned her face away, toward the woods again. That white mare was out there somewhere, carrying the only person that hold her heart. And she might’ve just let her ride off into hell.

Chapter Text

Siuan turned her face away, toward the woods again. That white mare was out there somewhere, carrying the only person that hold her heart. And she might’ve just let her ride off into hell.

Lan followed her line of sight. For a moment, the whole tent seemed to tense with her; the canvas drawn tight, ropes humming from the last gust of wind, lantern spitting little flecks of flame that popped and hissed in the quiet. A hush settled over the place but inside Siuan's head it was anything but still. It felt like a crowded saloon on closing time. Voices on top of voices, every one of them dragging her by the sleeve in a different direction.

“Scream her name. Tear the camp apart. Saddle up and ride till your goddamn lungs give.”

But nothing moved. Not her legs, not her hands. She stood there locked in place, pulse banging in her skull like a hammer on coffin wood. Every idea rose hot and fast - then turned to smoke and ash just as quick.

When a careful hand settled on her shoulder, she flinched like a skittish colt.

“Sit down,” Lan said. “You’re shaking.”

Siuan blew out a breath that rasped like it scraped her ribs on the way up. “Ain’t got time to sit and linger. I need to ride out.”

Lan was already turning from her, reaching for the tin cup near the lantern. “You need to calm down.” He poured slow, like the world still moved at a reasonable pace. “And tell me the truth - is this about the fight you two had?”

Frustration rose mean and hot behind her eyes. “No,” she shot. Then again, softer, “No.”

She started pacing, four steps and a turn, heel grinding into the canvas floor. “You don’t get it, Lan. Horse’s gone, woman’s gone. And I got a bad track in my head where she’s headed.”

“Then give me the track,” he said, offering the cup to her. “Start from what you know. And drink. You look…”

He trailed off, eyes dragging over her like he was taking inventory of a busted wagon. She didn’t need a mirror to know what he saw… the sweat, the pallor, the way her breath caught too often.

“…you look like you could use some water,” he finished gently.

She hadn’t noticed how damp her forehead was until her fingers brushed her brow and came away slick. She’d told herself earlier it was just spring warming the air. Or maybe it was just the last night’s whiskey burning off. But now? Now her chest felt too tight, her limbs too heavy, her skin too hot in all the wrong ways. That warmth had a fever’s bite.

She grabbed the cup and threw it back in one go. “I’m fine,” she muttered. A lie older than dirt. The kind passed around every camp, every battlefield, every busted home.

Lan didn’t challenge it. He just took the cup from her fingers, quiet as a man who knew better than to call bullshit when a person was already fuming. He sat down on his cot with the kind of patience Siuan herself couldn’t afford right now.

“Siuan… I’m…” He started, then stalled. Lan wasn’t the sort to waste breath or words. When he spoke, it was sharpened to cut straight to the point. Seeing him search for a sentence was damn near disarming. “I’m struggling to follow you. Maybe Moiraine’s just upset. Needed space, some air to breathe…”

Siuan turned on him with a look that could skin a deer. “The hell do you know? She talk to you? What’d she say?”

He sucked in a breath. “She found me after you laid down. She didn’t offer details but she looked… struck.” He set his hands palm-down on his knees, like keeping himself grounded. “She didn’t say she’d leave the camp, though. But with everything happening, I figure she just needed space.”

“That ain’t it.” Her voice snagged on a cough. She turned fast, fist to her mouth, trying to beat the rasp back down into her ribs, but it came anyway. When it passed, her eyes were wet and her breath came in hitches. “I’m riding out... Now... You can come… or don’t… but I ain’t standing here… waitin’.”

Lan watched her like a wildfire he didn’t know how to stop. “Siuan, none of this makes sense.” No judgment in it, just a plain fact he had to set on the table between them. “Tell me what this is really about. For all we know, she’ll be back by morning. Or after. A day, maybe two. People walk off sometimes when they need time to think. It doesn’t always mean they’re gone. I ain’t no expert in relati-“

“No.” Her voice cracked like a whip, too loud for the tent, too raw for her throat. “We ain’t havin’ this kind of talk here. I ain’t explaining our damn kitchen table to you in the middle of the night!”

The words spilled harder than she meant. She dragged her hands down her face, heat creeping up her neck that had nothing to do with fever. “I ain’t got the nerve for it, Lan. And if I did, there sure as hell ain’t time to teach you the whole mess. Moiraine is… she might…”

The sentence died there, strangled by the weight of too many truths that weren’t hers to spill. If she said the real name - princess, reward money, the ocean of blood and money between who Moiraine had been and who she was now - there’d be no picking it back up again.

Siuan grit her teeth. She wanted to scream, wanted to throw her fist through the tent post or beg the merciless gods of this country to give her one clean answer for once. Instead, she pressed her palm to her brow until sparks danced behind her eyes.

“Lan.” Her voice came out low and dragging, like pushing a dead horse uphill in the rain. “I know this reads crooked to you. But I ain’t never needed your trust more than now.”

The next words fought her. She couldn’t hand him the whole truth. She couldn’t tell him how she counted the days cough by cough, either. She couldn’t tell him the bit where, if her lungs quit out there in the dark, if her legs gave and her heart followed, somebody would have to turn her face toward home and keep riding for Moiraine when she couldn’t. She couldn’t say any of that and so, she reached for a half-truth that didn’t twist so hard and still held.

“Help me look for her.” Her voice dropped low as a prayer. “Please. I need you as my friend right now more than ever. That’s the long and short.”

Lan’s brow crept just a hair upward. Something behind his eyes softened and then he nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Where do we look?”

Siuan didn’t answer straightaway. She turned and started pacing because movement made the thinking feel like doing something. Moiraine could be unguessable when she wished, but if Siuan had read her right - and hell, she’d been reading that woman like scripture every since the first day they met, one impossible verse after another - Moiraine wouldn’t hand herself over neat to some man with a badge and a bounty poster. If she was really fixing to turn herself in, if she meant to trade her blood for money and her freedom for a crown, she’d at least try to pick the place, the hour, the terms herself.

“I think she’s headed for water,” Siuan muttered at last, half to herself. “Not a creek you wade. Real water. Docks.” She met Lan’s stare. “Van Horn.”

His expression didn’t shift much, but his brows lifted just enough to say he didn’t quite see it. “Docks? Why not Saint Denis then?”

“’Cause in Saint Denis, every ledger’s checked twice and every name's inked three times. Van Horn…” She jerked her chin toward the flap of the tent. “That town’s a hole in a rotten board. You can slip a nail through and nobody notices till the fence falls.”

Lan frowned. “Still. Why would Moiraine go to any such place?”

“She’s-…” The truth lunged up and Siuan bit her tongue till the pain cleared her head. “It’s where you find ships that’ll cross borders on short notice, no questions asked.”

That made the man pause. He turned that over once, twice, like a coin he wasn’t sure was real silver. Then the realization settled on his face. “You think she intends to leave the country?”

Siuan let silence do the work a second longer but Lan had that stare, the one that tried to lift the truth straight out of her chest. “I think,” she said at last, careful as setting a spring trap, “she’ll put herself somewhere I ain’t meant to follow.”

He blinked. “Why? I don’t understand.”

“I ain’t askin’ you to understand,” she said, and the words came out with more bite than she meant. “I’m askin’ you to ride with me.” She saw that land and guilt rose quick in her throat. The man was about to follow her blind into the dark but she couldn’t seem to carve the urgency out of her heart long enough to soften her tongue.

He let out a long breath. Not the kind that said he’d had enough, the kind that said alright then. He rose in one clean motion and went to the crate near the cot. In silence, he started packing. Crackers slid into jute, then a twist of jerky, a battered flask, a roll of bandage, matches, spare cartridges. “You owe me one,” he said without heat to it. Just a fact, like the sky being dark. “We leave when you’re ready.”

Relief hit so fast Siuan had to catch herself on the tent pole beside her. “Thank you,” she said, and meant it all the way down to her boots and back up again.

Lan gave her a single nod, cool and easy, like she’d just passed him the salt at supper instead of a desperate ask in the dark. “Here.” He pressed a cloth-wrapped bundle into her hands. “Provisions. I’ll carry the rest. You ride light.”

“I’ll carry what I have to,” she muttered, pride doing the talking for her. Right then, like her body couldn’t wait to make a fool of her, the coughing struck again. She slammed her mouth shut and caught it, barely.

Lan didn’t say a word about it. Just studied her for a moment with what looked an awful lot like concern.

“Should we tell the others we’re leaving?” he asked finally.

“I’ll scratch Alanna a note,” Siuan grumbled.

“Alright.” He slung his saddlebag and blanket roll over one shoulder. “Describe who we’re asking after. For strangers.”

Siuan shifted her weight, jaw tight. “White mare, clean mane. Rider sits straight like she’s got a damn book balanced on her head. Dark hair, dark coat, hood up. Hands that don’t fidget. Eyes…” she caught herself before her heart could finish the thought, “Blue eyes, sharp. A stare like she’s already figured you six feet under.”

Lan’s brow flicked once; agreement, amusement, maybe both. He didn’t linger, just pushed past her to the tent flap. The night rolled in cool and damp, carrying river smell and woodsmoke. Stars hung low and indifferent. The world looked too calm for what it held.

“Go grab your things,” Lan said. “I’ll saddle.”

Siuan’s hand lingered on the canvas flap. “Lan…”

He turned back.

“Thank you. For doin’ this.”

He dipped his head, solemn. “Any time.”

They moved quick after that. Siuan fetched her hat, her jacket, the revolver that had seen better days. She found a scrap of paper and scrawled two uneven lines across it with a pencil dull as a stone, stuck it to a post with her knife. Lan was already at the horses, movements quick and practiced like he’d done this on a thousand bad nights before. When everything was tight and right, he handed her the reins.

Siuan swung up, but the world tilted hard under her. For a heartbeat, the stars blurred into a silver wash. Her stomach dropped but she gritted her teeth, locked her knees, held her seat until the dizziness passed.

Lan noticed, she knew he did, but he didn’t say a word. Just mounted up smooth and silent. “Route?” he asked, reins loose in his hands.

“River road east,” Siuan said. “Keep the Kamassa at our right. Cut south of Annesburg ‘fore first light, hit the Van Horn grade come dawn.”

He made a low sound of agreement. They turned the horses with their knees and let the camp fall behind. In the sudden night, Siuan could hear all the tiny noises; the whisper of the wind through the pines, the restless stir of mice in dead leaves, the soft hoot of an owl that followed them for a stretch before fading off. The river ran to their right, a black thread that was silvered by the moonlight, pulling the world east. After a while, their horses found a rhythm that made language feel optional.

They rode brisk but not foolish. Fast enough to eat the miles, not enough to burn the legs out from under the animals. They’d reach Van Horn by daybreak if the road behaved and luck didn’t spit in their faces. However, if Siuan’s gut was wrong, they’d be burning time they didn’t have. But every bone in her pointed that way like a compass needle twitching north. Ships didn’t clear till morning. If Moiraine meant to cross, they might still catch her before the gangplank rose.

Lan’s voice tore her out of the track her mind was wearing in circles. “You said you’ve never needed a friend in me more than now.”

“That’s what I said,” Siuan replied, watching him sidelong. “Why?”

“Be my friend back,” he said, gentle. “Let me ask three questions. You answer honest, no slipping.”

Siuan huffed, lips quirking like she’d been caught cheating at cards. “Can’t promise clean answers,” she said, “but I’ll try.”

“That’s good enough.” He held up one finger, eyes forward on the trail. “First: you sure this middle-of-the-night ride’s worth the trouble?”

“Yes.” No breath between question and answer.

 “Second.” Another finger. “Is Moiraine in danger?”

Her throat clenched. A hundred answers lined up in her skull and all the true ones had teeth and claws. She picked the one that didn’t put a target on Moiraine’s back. “Not the way you’d picture,” she said. “But… yes.”

Lan nodded, like that matched something he had believed already. “Third.” His gaze turned to her fully now, moonlight catching his eyes, clean and cutting. “Moiraine told me you’re sick. Very sick.” Not a question, an opening. “How bad is it really?”

“Bad.” She tried to frame it with a laugh, make it sound like nothing worse than a bum knee or bad luck at cards, but what came out wasn’t close. “The situa—”

A cough punched the word in half; a hard, wet bark that folded her at the waist and tore something raw. She pressed the heel of her hand to her ribs, the other over her mouth to catch what rose. When she pulled away, there was a dark smear on her palm, red even under the moonlight.

“How bad is bad?” Lan asked again once her coughing let go its grip.

Siuan didn’t answer right away. She reached for her saddlebag, fingers clumsy from the shake in them. She dug out what passed for a rag, a torn square of an old shirt, and wiped her hand clean, folding the blood away neat like a secret letter no one was meant to read. Her chest ached deep, her breath felt thinner than it had an hour ago. But when she looked over at Lan, she met his eyes square.

“Got tuberculosis, Lan,” she said at last. “I’m dyin’.”

The words hit the road and lay there, turning everything they touched hopeless and ugly. Saying them out loud was like carving her own damn tombstone, made it real in a way her body hadn’t caught up to yet.

Siuan had lived plenty close to death before - hell, danced with it. Cold revolvers pressed against her temple, bullets so close they parted her hair. She’d wriggled out of trouble more times than she could count, made a whole career out of luck and grit. Danger used to be something she walked out of, slick with blood or sweat or both but still standing. But this? This wasn’t some bastard with a gun or a badge. This was something hunting her down from the inside - and it didn’t miss.

And yet, despite the blood in her mouth, the fever sweat threading down her spine, the way her bones felt a touch too hollow in her skin, Siuan didn’t feel like she was dying. She felt pissed off, furious. Alive.

The silence stretched. She hadn’t even noticed Lan let his horse fall half a length behind until the quiet began to echo. She glanced over her shoulder and found him staring at nothing. Just some scrap of road where a thought had sat down and refused to move. His face had changed, but not dramatically. He wasn’t wide-eyed or made fuss, but it was the way the muscle at his jaw went still and the way his eyes seemed to have shifted focus.

When he felt her watching, he met her gaze.

“I’m so sorry, Siuan,” he said. It was the kind of sorry that didn’t try to mend what couldn’t be mended. Even in the dark, there was a shine in his eyes he didn’t bother to wipe away or blink back. “You think that’s why Moiraine left?”

“No.” The answer snapped too fast. Defensive, raw. Siuan steadied it with a second pass. “No, ain’t nothing like that.”

Lan didn’t press, didn’t try to comfort or argue either. Just kept riding beside her, a solid shape in the night. One of the last good things left in a world that didn’t have many.

They rode in quiet, the kind of hush that could tip toward grief or grit depending on how you sat in the saddle. Naturally, Siuan chose grit.

The trail began to climb, winding out of the trees toward a low bluff. The sky ahead was paling already, tinted in that fragile shade of blue that meant dawn wasn’t far off. A cold wind rolled down off the hills and slipped under Siuan’s collar, turned the sweat on her neck to ice.

Then she saw him.

A man slumped against a stump just off the path, hat pulled low. A fishing rod leaned forgotten against the log, line sagging, hook dull and empty. He smelled of sour whiskey and old sweat, the kind of fella who’d argued with a bottle and lost.

Lan slowed instinctively, his horse shifting under him with soft complaint. Siuan eased her reins, narrowed her eyes at the man. He looked rough, yes, but not dangerous. She glanced over at her companion and caught his look, that steady caution that said let it be. But her gut said otherwise. Every lead started somewhere, and sometimes the first clue wore a hangover and holes in his boots.

“Mornin’, partner,” she called, voice smooth and easy, like this was just another stop on a calm ride.

The man jerked upright, blinking up at her like he was remembering how eyes worked. After a beat, he tipped his hat halfway, polite enough for someone who probably couldn’t spell it. “Ain’t mornin’ yet,” he slurred.

“Close enough.” Siuan let her mouth curl into something shaped like a smirk. “You seen a rider pass through lately? White horse. Dressed dark. Mindin’ her own.”

“Her?” His head tilted like the idea had surprised him. “Might’ve seen… somethin’ ghosty passin’ by. Coulda been a sheet on the wind. Coulda been a banshee. Coulda been nothin’.” He squinted down the road, eyes fogged with drink. “East way. That’s all I got.”

“That’s plenty,” Siuan said. She then nodded at the bait tin beside him. “Save your bread, friend. River fish ‘round here won’t touch it. Try corn next time.”

He grinned like he didn’t understand her but liked the sound of it anyhow.

They rode on.

The gray at the horizon woke proper, spreading out wide and soft. Mist lifted off the Kamassa, unrolling over the lowland like a blanket that hadn’t been shaken since last frost. The air carried that clean, biting chill that kissed her face cool - almost tender, almost kind -  and, for a fleeting second, Siuan let it soothe the heat under her skin… until her lungs betrayed her again.

The cough came fast and savage. The first time, she stifled it behind gritted teeth. The second, she swallowed it like stale booze. But the third doubled her over in the saddle until black spots bloomed behind her eyes and she almost lost her balance.

Lan was quicker. His horse shifted forward, his arm shot out, and caught her rein before her mare decided she’d had enough of this. “Do you want me to tie you to the saddle?”

“Try it and I’ll bite you,” she rasped.

“If you fall off your horse between here and Van Horn because you’re too proud to ask for help, I’ll be angry with you,” he said mildly with the faintest flicker of humor. “Angry and inconvenienced.”

“Now there’s a threat.” She grinned back, but the expression didn’t last long. “I can sit my own damn horse just fine.”

“You can,” he agreed easily. “But I want to make sure you don’t test gravity.” He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a spare leather strap. Without asking, he looped one end around his pommel, then passed the other across the space between them, tying it to hers.

“Hold,” he said and handed her one end of the strap. “If your hands forget you, I won’t.”

Siuan stared at the strap, jaw tight. The gesture burned her pride something fierce, but she took it anyway, tucking it beneath her palm. “Fine,” she muttered. “But if I pull you off your horse it’s your own fault.”

Lan’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Fair trade.”

They kept on, the sun still crawling slow up the edge of the world.

After some time, without warning, Lan reined in.

Siuan followed his eyes. Up ahead, the road curled around a toppled oak. Fresh hoofprints marked the dirt where the road curved, the earth still held the impression clearly, like a pressed flower in a book.

Lan slid down without a word, crouched low, ran his fingers along the print with that same thoughtful frown he wore when tracking more dangerous things than horses.

“Narrow shoe,” he muttered. “Centered rider, not a sloucher. Weight balanced. Little overcorrection, but no stumble in the stride.”

It could’ve been any rider, could’ve been nothing. But still, Siuan looked at the line of prints like they were handwriting she knew. “She must be tired,” she said quietly. “When Moiraine gets tired, she sits straighter, squares herself up. Like she’s tryin’ to fool her own body into listenin’. No one’d ever guess what’s burnin’ underneath.” There was something unguarded in her voice, something soft and bleeding. It slipped out before she could drag it back down.

Lan straightened and looked at her, one brow raised. “You know her well.”

She turned her head so he couldn’t see what passed through her face. “Reckon I do.”

As they neared town, the land started to remember it was alive; birds returned to their songs. A fox trotted across the trail with a rabbit dangling from its jaw, and he gave them the kind of disapproving glance that said people should know better than to be up this early. The first distant, lonely gull called from somewhere ahead - one note, two.

“Plan in Van Horn,” Lan said, like they were drawing up a job. “We come in off the main. Avoid the dockmaster. Sheriff too. You ask the stable hands, I’ll ask the drunks on the streets.” Then, the harder question. “If we find her - do we talk, or…”

“Take her,” Siuan answered before her brain could soften it. “Talk later.”

“Mm.” Lan accepted that for what it was; a tactical truth, not a moral failing.

The Kamassa shouldered wide and the air changed - rotting ropes and tar and fish brine. Van Horn now loomed on the horizon, wrapped in its own smoke. The road beneath them roughened with old boards where the county had tried once to pretend it cared. A wagon with one good wheel and one bad waited off to the side, dewed over, abandoned overnight or forever.

Siuan sat straighter in the saddle. For a heartbeat, all the pain slid clean off her bones. She could almost see the shimmer of a white mane vanishing into the haze. Almost hear that small cluck Moiraine gave when coaxing her horse into step.

Lan lifted a hand and they drew their pace in, not to spare the horses but because folks who moved too fast near towns were folks who got noticed.

Down in the dirt streets, a man stumbled out of the saloon and nearly lost his boot. Another sat hunched on a stoop, hands wrapped around a tin cup, steam rising slow from whatever passed for coffee. The sun hadn’t yet cleared the roofs but the shadows had already started making shapes you didn’t want to meet alone.

Siuan slid down at the first stable they passed, her knees stiff, but she didn’t wobble. She didn’t look back to see if Lan followed. He would.

The stable boy was barely sixteen. Straw-blond, nervous hands, eyes that didn’t know yet what kind of world they lived in. He was brushing a mule that looked about ready to bite him with the next stroke.

“Mornin’.” Siuan offered him a worn grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Lookin’ for a lady passed through early. White mare.”

The boy blinked like he hadn’t seen daylight in a week. “Can’t say I saw anyone like that.”

“You sure, son?” she drawled, leaning on the post beside him. She tipped her head and fished a coin out of her coat. She’d been through Van Horn enough times to know how information moved here.

The boy hesitated, stopped the brushing. “Ain’t had a woman through this morning. Preacher’s wife came by yesterday after a fight with her husband, but she was ridin’ a black Appaloosa and talkin’ to God.” He scratched the back of his neck. “That help?”

“Not quite.” She flipped him the coin anyway. “If she shows up, you didn’t see her. And you sure as hell didn’t see me.”

The boy caught the coin like it might vanish if he blinked. “Didn’t see nothin’,” he said quick. Then added, hopeful, “You need feed?”

Siuan walked out without answering.

Lan was across the street, leaning on a rain barrel. When she caught his eye, he gave the smallest shake of his head. No luck.

They kept going. Next stop: the saloon. That place still hadn’t sobered up from last night. Someone snored on the floor just inside, jacket on the wrong way. Siuan stepped over him without pause and headed straight for the woman behind the bar.

“Sorry, sugar,” the barkeep said before Siuan even finished describing Moiraine. “Only women come through here either work for me or owe me money. Neither one rides no white horse.”

“You’d remember her,” Siuan said, quieter.

“Oh, I’d remember,” the woman said, wiping a glass with a rag that hadn’t been clean in weeks. “Ain’t been nobody quiet through here in days.”

By the time they’d circled the edge of town, the truth had started to sink teeth into her gut. She stood at the end of the pier, boots braced against the boards, wind off the river tugging at her coat. Skiffs and trawlers moved slow across the current. A barge drifted by lazily, hull half-rotted, but none seem to carry what she was looking for.

No sign of Moiraine.

Not in the stables, not in the saloon, not among the dockhands who swore they hadn’t seen a woman in a dark coat with eyes like the sky. Siuan had even questioned an old ferryman nursing whiskey for breakfast. He’d just shrugged and said, “Ain’t nobody gone east ‘fore dawn, lady. Wind’s too rough.”

Now she stood there, her throat burning, her lungs rasping when she drew breath. The fever had been crouching quiet behind her ribs all night, hiding behind the adrenaline. But now it crept up her spine, coiling behind her eyes and lighting her skin from the inside.

She clenched her fists till her nails bit her palms.

“She could’ve gone upriver,” she muttered, more to herself than to Lan. “Or Annesburg. There’s a line that runs the ore to Saint Denis, and maybe she-”

“Siuan.”

She didn’t stop, didn’t even look at him. “We ride north. Annesburg’s two hours, maybe less if we cut across the ridge.”

“It’s a mining town,” Lan said. “She wouldn’t go there.”

“You don’t know what she’d do.” It came out sharp, desperate, raw. “You think I’m gonna sit here, twiddlin’ my damn thumbs while she-…” She choked mid-sentence. One cough, then another and another that was even worse. She bent over the rail, blood hit the planks - bright, fresh, wrong. The taste of iron flooded her mouth.

Lan moved closer but didn’t touch her yet - he knew her pride too well - just stood near enough to catch her if she fell.

When it passed, Siuan spat into the river, breath sawing through her teeth. “We’re goin’,” she rasped. “We ride to Annesburg, then Saint Denis if we have to.”

“No, you won’t make it that far.”

“Don’t tell me what I can do.” Her voice shook with it - fever or fury, she couldn’t tell which. “I’ll crawl there if I have to.”

Lan sighed. A long breath that sounded like his patience was finally worn down to thread. “You can’t be serious, Siuan. Look at yourself. You want to find her - fine. But if you die out here and she never sees you alive, that’s what you call a grand plan?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but the world had started to tilt. The sky was suddenly too bright, the ground too soft. The edges of things swam and her knees buckled a little.

Lan caught her by the arm. “Enough,” he said. Not angry or harsh, just final.

“Don’t,” she muttered, trying to pull free, but her limbs weren’t listening. “If she’s headed for Saint Denis…”

“Even if she was, she’d kill me herself for letting you ride another mile in this state.” His grip shifted, firm but careful, one hand on her shoulder, the other guiding her elbow. “You’re burning up, Siuan. We’re riding back.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He half-steered, half-dragged her the few steps back to her horse. She resisted at first, every stubborn inch of her trying to fight, but her hands had gone clumsy. By the time he lifted her boot into the stirrup and pushed her up, she was shaking too bad to argue.

Lan tied her reins to his own. “I’ll come back for her,” he said, low. “As soon as you’re safe. You need Ryma, need some rest.”

Siuan tried to answer, but her lips wouldn’t move right. It took her everything just to keep her eyes open. The river looked like glass, the sunlight shimmered in a way that didn’t seem real anymore. Everything blurred into motion and sound - the creak of saddle leather, Lan’s voice saying something she didn’t quite catch, the dull beat of hooves carrying her away from the trail of the woman she’d die chasing.

Chapter Text

Lan took her down from the saddle before Siuan even got the chance to pretend she could do it herself. She’d meant to make a show of dismounting; boots steady on the ground, shoulders squared, stubborn pride in every line, not a tremor of weakness in sight. Instead, the world tilted out from under her, the fever ringing in her skull like a bell struck behind her eyes. Smoke and stew and hay tangled in the air, and beneath it all, the chemical sting of spirits and camphor - Ryma’s medicine, already hunting her down.

“Easy now. I’ve got you,” Lan said, calm and quiet. 

“I’m fine,” Siuan informed the ground because that’s exactly where she was headed. Lan’s arms made sure that didn’t happen, though. His hand pressed gentle and steady at her back, the kind of touch that said he was braced for a collapse.

“You’re not fine,” he replied like that was the end of the argument. “Ryma!” His call rang out across the camp, cutting through the noise of distant murmurs and snorting horses.

“I’m here! Saw you two coming from half a mile off,” Ryma announced, striding across the trampled grass with her apron crisp and her sleeves already rolled up. “You look like a sack of potatoes slung across a fence post, boss. Not your best entrance.”

The medic’s hands were cool and decisive as she scanned the fever burning in Siuan’s cheeks, the red in her eyes, the sweat pasted to her brow. Ryma smelled like soap and medicinal herbs, a strange comfort when everything else was spinning and breaking apart. “On a scale from one to ‘I’ve seen brighter mornings in a morgue,’ how bad are we feeling today?”

“Two,” Siuan lied.

The other woman arched a brow, not even bothering to hide her skepticism. “Mm. Let’s add six and get you inside before you catch fire and burn down the lot of us.” She flicked a glance at Lan, and before Siuan could argue, she was all but corralled under canvas. A cot creaked under her, and the medic was already in motion.

“Open your mouth,” Ryma ordered, not unkind but not leaving any room for backtalk either.

“That your best bedside manner?” Siuan croaked, but the cup was already there, smelling so much of peppermint and ginger that she half expected her eyebrows to fall out. She wrinkled her face in protest, but in the end, stubbornness gave way to exhaustion and she forced the stuff down.

“I gotta-…” she attempted to sit up, sheer will trying to bully her bones back into line, but her body refused to play along.

“You gotta hold still, that’s what you gotta do,” Ryma said, reaching for her kit. Siuan caught the glint of the needle too late.

“Pinch.”  

“Ouch, hell!” She hissed through her teeth as the medic already pressed cotton to the puncture; another quick dose of her wonderous concoctions for when there wasn’t time to argue.

“Where’s-…” Siuan started, her voice shredding into a cough that clawed up her throat. The name she wanted got tangled in pain. “Lan. Can you-…”

She had the foolish notion that if she just reached out, she’d find his sleeve, haul herself up by it, and everything else would take care of itself. But her hand wouldn’t even lift, fingers twitching useless in the air. The light in the tent flickered at the corners of her vision, turning the world gray and then black. Everything shrunk to the sound of her rugged breath and the muddled tangle of voices above her.

Somewhere, a word cut through, dull and distant - tuberculosis - landing heavy between Lan’s and Ryma’s voices before the dark carried Siuan off and sleep took care of her.

*

The new day found her sprawled in her own tent, head thick as cold porridge and bones hollowed out like a fish cleaned to the spine. She’d been taught since childhood that morning fixed things – fresh sunrise, clean slate, all that. Only a fool believed it.

Siuan forced herself upright, moved too quick, and the whole world slid sideways once again. She caught herself on the cot with a palm that wasn’t quite steady, breathed once, twice, through gritted teeth. Still, she wasn’t the kind to lie down and let the world roll her over. Pride set its boot in her back and shoved. So she tried again and stumbled up, legs rebellious and knees wobbling, but she made for the tent flap.

A dozen eyes snapped her way the instant she broke into the yard, then found urgent business with anything that wasn’t her; the ground, the sky, the crust of bread in their hands. The whole camp pretended not to stare, not to measure the tremor in her hands or count the minutes between coughs... not to wonder if their boss was about to drop dead in the grass in front of them.

“Mornin’, y’all,” she muttered, voice raspy. “I got somethin’ in my face or what?” Her eyes cut around, daring anyone to answer, but nobody did. Busy hands got busier and heads ducked to bowls and mugs.  

Ryma barreled in before anyone else could stitch together a polite lie. “You look like hell,” she declared, delicate as a sledgehammer. “Let’s get you back to bed before you collapse and ruin my morning.” Her gaze run over Siuan, taking in the fever flush and the way her shoulders hunched to keep from shivering.

“We got daylight, so we got work,” Siuan said, pitching her voice into something that sounded like authority if you squinted. She straightened her shoulders, set her jaw, and took three parade steps before her knees buckled and she promptly folded onto a crate she’d had never meant to sit on. Her breath stumbled, sharp and thin. Sure enough, the cough found its opening and tore out of her, leaving her hunched and sweating.

“Here,” Ryma dangled a mug at her. “You take it easy and drink you medicine.”

“I’m not made of glass,” Siuan muttered, because that’s what you say when you know you look one hard breath away from shattering.

“No,” the medic agreed mildly. “Glass doesn’t cough blood.” She didn’t say it loud but the camp didn’t need much to catch on. Siuan could feel the way every set of eyes slid her way again, then jerked away, nosiness and worry braided up in the silence.

Rumors traveled faster than horses. The camp had a thousand ways to talk without talking loudly. She caught scraps and fragments everywhere; by the water barrels - ‘I heard it’s catching, is it catching?’ - and over by the woodpile - ‘Ryma says no sharing of cups or spoons, air your tent’ - over by the picket line - ‘She’ll boss it though, right? She won’t be dyin’, right?’ - and by the campfire – ‘the huntress is gone too, just sayin’ I’m wonderin’ what’s that about’.

Siuan could smell the pity now, sharp as vinegar, lingering in every tent and breakfast pot. Everyone stepped careful around her, even Thom, who drifted by pretending to check supplies and not to see the way her breath rattled after each cough.

He held out a tin mug, handle turned her way like a peace offering. “Tea for the captain,” he said, almost gentle. “Boiled twice, adds flavor.”

Siuan eyed him wearily. “You bein’ nice is a sign of the end times.”

“Blame her,” he replied, nodding at Ryma. “She threatened to stitch my mouth shut if I make a single wisecrack.”

The medic herself was never far, always circling. A cool cloth found the back of Siuan’s neck without asking. “Still got that fever,” she muttered. “You should be lying in bed.” Her tone made it a fact, not a suggestion.

But Siuan ignored her, ignored all of them. She forced herself up and made a slow, stubborn round through camp, every step pure willpower. The ground felt uneven, the air too hot, her body lagging behind. All the same, she pushed forward, scanning every tent flap and every hunched shoulder while searching for one face and one face only.

She found Lan at the horses, polishing leather that already shone. His eyes didn’t lift when she came up, but his hands moved slower, listening.

“We ride again. You and me,” she said, no patience left for hellos or small talk. “East road, long loop by the quarry. If she cut for the ridge, someone’s seen a white mare by now. Can’t throw a rock without hitting a rumor.” Her eyes raked the far horizon, as if she could conjure Moiraine back just by wanting hard enough.

“We…,” Lan said mildly, turning the polishing rag over once, “…are not both going out.”

“I ain’t dead yet,” Siuan shot back.

He looked at her hands and noticed the tremor. The rag paused between his fingers. “You can’t sit a saddle today.”

Her fingers curled tighter to hide the shake. “I could sit a damn mountain if I wanted,” she growled. “Just… can’t sit ‘round here. Not with ‘em all lookin’ at me like I’m already laid out for the worms. Not while she’s …” The words jammed up behind her teeth and dissolved, but she guessed Lan didn’t need it spelled out anyway.

He softened his voice. “I’ll ride. You’ll rest and drink what Ryma hands you, even if it tastes like boiled weeds. I’ll take the east road. If there’s a sign, I’ll find it.”

“You keep sayin’ ‘if’.” Her voice cracked around the word.

“It’s a good word.” Gently, he steered her back to a crate and waited until she’d settled. “It leaves room for good things to happen.”

Lan dropped into a squat so they were eye to eye; not forcing her to look up, not making her feel small. “Listen, Siuan,” he began. “I’m not saying your worry is misplaced. But I said it yesterday and I’ll say it again… after news like this, some people take the long way around a feeling but they end up right back at the same door.”

Siuan looked away, eyes stinging, not from fever. Well, not entirely. “You really don’t understand,” she murmured, not accusing, just tired. “But I appreciate you tryin’.”

The man hesitated, studied the lines of her face like a map he wasn’t entitled to read, then tried his luck anyway. “Why a port, though?” The question sounded like it had burned a hole in his pocket all night. “If she left camp, why the ocean? Why not the next town?”

Siuan sucked in a breath that burned all the way down. The truth wanted to jump out, and she kept it pressed down with a callused hand. Silence was the only answer she could muster.

“Alright.” He set his palm on her shoulder. “I’m not after your secrets, Siuan. Just… whatever you’re doing, do it from a bed, not from a saddle. Medic’s orders. Mine too, if you’ll listen. We’re all worried about you.”

The moment could’ve gone sentimental if she let it but she wasn’t letting anything soft in today. “Go, will you?” she said at last, waving him off because the longer he lingered the more likely she was to say a thing she’d sworn not to. “I’ll wait here, bein’ tragic and all that.”

A corner of his mouth ticked. “You’re terrible at tragic, Siuan.”

“Practice makes perfect.” She managed half a grin. “Go ride. Don’t fall off.”

Before either of them could move, the camp’s edge burst into noise; boots drumming, a shout cracking the lazy afternoon. Their watchers came out of the trees with a struggling knot of a kid between them - a boy, couldn’t be more than ten.

He was a patchwork; hat too big and boots too small, a red kerchief knotted at his throat like he thought it might buy him luck. He fought like a wildcat, twisting and kicking, eyes huge and wild.

“Found him skirtin’ the creek on the north spur, boss,” Ivhon called, rough hands oddly gentle as he set the kid’s feet on the ground. “Wouldn’t stop runnin’ till we tripped him. Caught him before he could get in real trouble.”

Siuan was on her feet before her body remembered it didn’t want that. The world tipped, then righted itself. She planted a palm on the nearest table and when she spoke, her voice was all hard edge and command. She wouldn’t look weak, not in front of a child.

“Why’re you lurkin’, boy?” she demanded. “What’re you up to, huh?”

“None of your-” He bristled, chin up, but the bravado steamed off the second her stare landed. She could’ve ended a bar fight with less than that look.

She took a step closer and the wind brought her a whiff of that sharp, oily stink that stuck to money pouches and courier’s bags to keep things dry in the rain. Oilskin.

The smell bit a nerve and her world tunneled for a second; What if that’s cash from Moiraine? What if the deed’s done already? What if the plan was never to slip quiet? What if she walked into a sheriff’s office with her real name ready on her lips? What if…

“Courier, are you not?” she snapped, voice hard as flint.

“Siuan…,” Lan warned, stepping up beside her, close enough to be a wall without touching.

“Open the bag,” she spat. “Now.”

The kid flinched, then hitched his chin back up like a pup refusing the leash. “You a sheriff?”

“Worse.” Siuan said, deadpan. “Bag. Open it.”

“Siuan.” Lan was at her elbow. “He’s just a kid. Take it easy.”

The boy’s fingers shook as he opened the flap and fished out…

Not money.

A homemade slingshot, two battered field guides - one on birds, one on mushrooms - tied with string, a lump of willow bark wrapped in cheesecloth, a tin with a cracked enamel lid that rattled like it held coins but, when opened, revealed three dice, a rusty hook, and a fat black beetle, legs waving like a lost boxer. At the very bottom, wrapped tight in oilskin against the weather, a letter addressed in a careful adult hand and a yellowed deck of cards.

The boy’s chin stayed high out of spite. If anything, he squared his shoulders like he was waiting for the punch. “I got lost, alright?” he shot, words piling up. “Was on a mission to deliver that letter from my ma to town. Been on my feet forever. Saw smoke, figured I could beg a biscuit and a direction. But these two…,” he jerked his chin at his captors, “...nabbed me like I stole the moon.”

Lan kept his voice gentle. “You saw smoke - where?”

The boy pointed with his chin north. “Saw a curl of it, figured it was a camp. Needed help.”

“Our smoke,” Ivhon muttered, sounding irritated with himself. “Damn wind.”

Siuan couldn’t tell whether to laugh or throw up. The smell of oilskin still sat in her nose, sharp and nagging, a scent she’d come to associate with worry and bad news. “What’s the letter say?” she asked, softer now.

The boy just shrugged, sullen. “Dunno. Ain’t good with the fancy hand.”

Siuan let herself breathe proper for the first time in a minute. The air scraped her throat, but she didn’t care. She nodded at the battered deck of cards in the boy’s bundle. “You a gambler, kid?”

“Sometimes.” The corner of his mouth twitched, a dimple flashing with the first spark of mischief since he’d been hauled in. “When the odds look right.”

She studied him, seeing something familiar in the way he squared up, refusing to wilt even when outnumbered. “You got a name or should I just call you Trouble?”

He grinned full now, showing a small chip in his front tooth like a badge. “Matrim, Matrim Cauthon. But folks just call me Mat…” a pause, then, “… ma’am.” A patch of manners sewn over the wild edges.

She squinted at him, half appraisal, half mirror. “You any good with those cards, Mat?”

“Good enough to stay fed,” he said, cocky, the grin brightening. “Want to bet your dinner?”

She couldn’t help it; a smirk broke loose in spite of the day. That look in his eye, the quick tongue, that stubborn set… he could’ve been her - about a hundred years ago.

“Someone get this boy a meal,” she ordered, not looking away from him. “Then blindfold him and walk him out a mile. If he cheats, tie his shoelaces together and let him figure out the rest alone. He was never here.”

Mat’s mouth dropped open, surprise flashing across his face and making him look even younger. “You ain’t taking my satchel?”

Siuan raised an eyebrow. “I only rob the rich and the mean. You’re neither. Keep your treasures, kid.” She tipped her chin at the tin with the beetle. “But poke some holes in that lid if you want your beetle to see another sunrise.”

He clutched the satchel to his chest like it just saved his life and nodded hard, color coming back into his cheeks. “Yes, ma’am.”

The moment Mat was out of earshot, Lan rounded on Siuan, voice clipped and tight. “You didn’t need to go after him that hard, you know.”

She shot him a glare, all steel. “I didn’t know who sent him or what he’d seen. He showed up with oilskin in his bag, Lan. You didn’t notice?”

Lan shook his head and let out a thin, controlled breath. “He’s a stray, not a messenger. You’re chasing ghosts, Siuan. You’re seeing her in every hoofprint.” He flicked a glance at the tree line. “I want to find her too. But Moiraine has the right to walk out if she wants, make her own choices, even if you can’t stand-...”

“You really don’t know anythin’, do you,?” Siuan’s shot back. The anger in her eyes was burning, but underneath, it was all fear. “You want me to sit here? Just hope she’s fine and comes back?”

Before the next words could do damage, a small voice piped up behind them, hesitant but cutting clean.

“’Scuse me?”

Both turned.

Mat had wriggled free of Ivhon’s grip and now stood a few paces off, hat clutched in his hands. “You said Moiraine,” he ventured. “That’s the lady I saw. Stopped me on the road, asked the quickest way southeast.”

The words landed between them like a stone in a still pond. Siuan’s heart kicked hot and wild against her ribs. “You sure?” she breathed, taking one unsteady step closer. “You sure that’s what she said? Moiraine?”

The boy nodded, face shifting into newfound solemn. “Yes, ma’am. I asked her, ‘cause I figured a pretty lady like her oughta have a pretty name. And she said Moiraine. I remember it. Ain’t met nobody called that before.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking. “She looked like she was in a hurry.”

Siuan nearly sagged with the weight of that. For a heartbeat, nobody moved. Lan’s frustration dulled to focus, her own fear surged to hope and then tipped right over into terror just as fast.

“Thank you, Mat,” she managed at last, her voice barely sounding like her own. Then she turned to Lan, jaw set like stone. “If she’s headed southeast, she’s after Saint Denis. Only road from here worth the dust.”

Lan didn’t waste breath on argument. His eyes sharpened like someone had thrown a switch, the last traces of frustration vanishing as purpose snapped into place. “I’ll ride as fast as I can,” he called over his shoulder, already moving for his horse. In a few practiced motions he threw the saddle up and in a few more, he sat in it before Siuan could blink.

She stood where he’d left her, fists knotted until her fingers ached. She watched until horse and rider blurred into dust, and then to nothing. The worry didn’t fade, though, it just hollowed her out from the inside like an ache with nowhere else to rest.

But even for all her worry, her deteriorating health didn’t go on pause. The hours crawled past, heavy and slow. By late afternoon she stopped pretending she could sit a saddle. By evening, she gave up pretending even for a crate. Every time she tried to push upright, the world tilted and the cough reached up from her lungs like a claw.

Ryma found her slumped in her tent, propped up by blankets so she could breathe better, skin clammy and eyes too bright. Siuan couldn’t taste anything but camphor and fear, with the faintest memory of lavender from Moiraine’s blanket threading through it all. She curled her fist into the coarse wool and held it close against her heart as if holding on tightly enough could tug Moiraine back from whatever edge she’d run to.

Outside, the sun oozed into the river like coins slipping from a broken purse. Camp lights winked on in the dusk, a hush settling over the fire pits and water barrels. Someone tried to tell a joke and then remembered not to laugh too loud. The world had gotten quiet around her, the kind of silence people fall into when they don’t know what else to say or are expecting bad news.

Siuan floated through it, untethered, like a ghost in her own skin. The fever rowed her in slow, senseless circles. Sometimes she’d drift halfway to waking, only to find herself right back at the beginning. Her mind wandered back to water again and again - not a gentle river, but something rougher and wider. A border she couldn’t cross.

In the darkness behind her eyelids, Moiraine stood at the edge of some impossible world, chin high and shoulders squared, daring fate to take her. Siuan wanted to drag her back, bite and claw and beg if she had to, anything - anything - just to bring her home. But all she could do was hold the blanket tighter and breathe in the scent of lavender.

Sometimes, in dreams, she found herself on the road with Lan. Sometimes she stood on a dock thick with salt and iron. Sometimes, she was in a palace that breathed like a predator.

Chapter Text

Blink.

The palace came in too sharp, like stepping out of shadow and straight into the bright sun. White walls, white ceilings, white everything. Everything was too clean, too still. But it wasn’t silence by absence – it was silence by design. The kind that seemed to press a hand over your mouth and whisper against your ear to obey.

Nothing fluttered. Not a speck of dust dared to dance in that golden light, not a shadow moved out of place. Even dust knew better than to misbehave in these halls.

Warmth had been engineered into the shape of little suns; stamped into brass, stitched into carpets, carved into doorframes, until the halls glittered with the idea of heat but gave none of it. Beeswax clung to the air like varnish. Underneath it was something rosy and worse - too many flowers bleeding together, sickly-sweet and strong as a migraine.

A hallway stretched on ahead, too long to see an end. Siuan stood in the middle of it, boots planted on marble so polished it looked like still water. Her reflection stared back up at her, warped, untethered, as if she didn’t belong to it anymore. Something in her mouth tasted coppery and wrong, and her jaw twitched. Some deep muscle memory wanted to spit, just to break whatever spell this place had cast over her, but she didn’t. Couldn’t.

She tried to put a boot forward. Her legs moved but the world slid with her, no real distance crossed. Then – a tug. Soft, like a child pulling on her sleeve.

She glanced down and found a faint thread wrapped around the crook of her fingers. It was pale, shimmering like spider webs and wound its way down the corridor, vanishing into the endless stretch ahead. As she stared, it tugged again.

Something was pulling her forward.

Blink.

A great hall unfolded around her. The ceiling vaulted above like the ribs of some long-dead beast, grand and gilded to impress rather than invite. Cold light spilled in from every golden sun, from nowhere and everywhere, setting the walls aglow with an antiseptic sheen. The air had the hush of a chapel but not the sanctity. Reverence here was enforced, not earned.

The marble was interrupted by a runner as lush as pasture grass, swallowing every footfall and noise whole. At the far end, a man tapped a cane with the rhythm of someone who knew the sound of his own power – tap, tap, tap. He wore soft silks the colors of green moss and red rust but no finesse could soften the angles of his face or the chill of his eyes. When he stood, it was with the grace of something ancient and venomous.

In front of the man stood three women. Two were dressed in the palace cloth, with hair pinned flat, hands folded neatly in their lap, eyes dutifully glued to the floor. Their faces were trained to nothingness, every emotion pressed out of them like linen under hot iron. They were the kind of women who had learned how to see pain without reacting. Siuan hated them on sight - and pitied them just the same. But the third woman…

“Moiraine!”

Siuan’s mouth shaped the name but the word dropped into the thick carpet and vanished without echo. She realized her voice had no weight here. This space made her a ghost; she could watch, she could ache, but she couldn’t touch or change a damn thing.

Moiraine stood still, posture a clean straight line like drawn with a ruler. She wore kid gloves that neatly met the cuffs of a high-collared dress. Every inch of her was groomed for contrition and still she looked like a honed blade. She met the man’s gaze dead-on, and Siuan saw it - the fury and despise banked deep behind those blue eyes.

And then - some trick of this world, this dream, this vision, whatever this cursed place was; the air folded, light bent, and suddenly Siuan stood within arm’s reach. Her breath hitched as her hand rose on instinct, fingers hovering inches from that beautiful face she knew so well.

“What did those damn bastards do to you, love…” she rasped out, but her words went to dust.  

A yellow crescent bruised Moiraine’s cheek, stubborn against the powder someone had tried to cover it with. A shallow split marked her lip, small but loud in what it meant: a sentence cut short by a hand.

The thread in Siuan’s palm suddenly tugged, harder now. Only then did she realize it was tied to her lover’s hand as well, invisible unless you knew to look. It flexed when Moiraine breathed too deep, hummed when her anger burned. Siuan gripped it instinctively and caught nothing but a handful of air and the sick ache of helplessness.

A sharp tap of the cane ripped through the silence, snapping her focus back to the man who ruled this gilded cage.

“You will remember yourself,” he said, unhurried. His words were in a language Siuan hadn’t been taught to speak and yet she understood every syllable. “A Zinsmeister does not shame the family like this.”

“I returned,” Moiraine answered, and her tone felt like an act of rebellion; level, clear, devoid of excuse - and therefore perilous. “Didn’t I?”

“Not soon enough.”

The man stepped closer. The cane’s silver tip lifted to her chin, tilting it upward. Not harsh or forceful, just enough to steal her control. Siuan lunged without a second thought but her hand sliced through the air where his wrist should’ve been. No contact. No sound. No justice.

“Your household manners have soured,” he went on, still conversational. “Your temper…” He let the words hang for a moment, letting imagination paint the idea of punishment. “…is unbecoming. Instructors will find you tomorrow, prepare you for what is to come.”

It was a threat that drew blood without raising a welt and everyone in the room knew it. He meant etiquette tutors with smiles like razors, the kind of gentleman who corrected posture until a body learned to flinch at empty rooms.

“In three weeks,” he continued, tapping the cane once – tap – a sentence pronounced, “you will marry King Adrien de Saxe-Cobourg. It resolves matters cleanly and unites the empires.”

Another tap. Period.

“And you will be gracious. Contrite. You will present yourself as reformed. The king values duty.” His mouth curved into something like satisfaction. “You will be a useful queen and fine wife to him. There will be no more… excursions. You’re not running this time.”

At that, the smallest revolt; a minute tightening of Moiraine’s jaw, the tendons in her forearm going tight. Siuan felt it immediately, like the thread between them had caught fire. Rage surged through that fine tether, lighting her bones with borrowed fury. For one heartbeat, Siuan thought Moiraine might break decorum, strike him, speak up, anything.

But Moiraine stayed where she was. She looked fierce, yes. But she was also caged and helpless like a prayer in a gunfight.

“Union in three weeks,” the man repeated, content with how neatly his words built bricks around her.

Three weeks…

Siuan felt the world tilt, the floor threatening to drop out beneath her. Three weeks to dress a no in white and teach it to say yes. Three weeks to kill the part of Moiraine that knew what love and freedom was.

The silence stretched, heavy enough to choke on. Moiraine’s gaze slipped past the man, past the marble, past the room to some invisible place Siuan couldn’t follow. A place where maybe she could still be free. Her eyelashes fluttered once, delicate and barely there, but Siuan understood all the same how much it cost to hold back tears in front of monsters.

The cane tapped again, closer this time, almost grazing the tips of Moiraine’s shoes. The two attendants at her side flinched in perfect unison with their eyes still pinned to the floor as if they could will themselves into the stone. But Moiraine didn’t blink and let the silence stretch on. 

“Say something, Isabeau!”

The name cracked like a whip, and with it, the thread cinched tight around Siuan’s hand. She felt her palm burn with pain and then cool all at once, like metal yanked from a forge and plunged into snow. The sensation bled up her arm and spread through her chest like frostbite.

“Yes, uncle,” Moiraine said at last, the words small enough to disappear into the folds of her high collar. Siuan felt the bitterness of surrender like it happened inside her own body.

Blink.

The corridors had shed their shine. Gone was the polished marble, the sickly scent of beeswax and forced bloom. This wing had no need for perfume or refinement. The palace’s raw spine was showing here; bare stone and shadow, rough-hewn edges where wealth didn’t reach.

Black coal smoke lingered in the air, mixed with the damp smell of mold and rotting metal. The golden suns were scarce in this wing too. Where they appeared at all, they’d been scratched by a bored knife or worn smooth by years of shoulders squeezing through.

Down the corridor ahead, Moiraine – no, Isabeau, they’d made her wear that name again – moved with haste. Her head was down beneath a dark hood, chin tucked, cloak hem whispering against the flagstones. One hand clutched the fabric near her throat, the other held tight to a parcel wrapped in cloth.

She didn’t spare a look for any door she passed, didn’t count turns like she was afraid of getting lost. She knew this path. And yet... there was tension in her every step. The thread in Siuan’s palm caught it; every rapid heartbeat, every shallow breath held too long.

The passage spat them into a narrow court open to a sky the color of old pewter. One door waited at the far end, hunched beneath a warped stone lintel, its wood dark with age and streaked with old water stains. A man stood beneath the archway. He bowed deeply the moment he saw her, the kind of bow reserved only for royalty, even in secret.

“Your Majesty,” he said, and the title landed like a coin on glass.

Moiraine didn’t spare him a nod. She extended the parcel; not tossed, not gently offered either, but handed off with brisk efficiency. “This leaves the city by noon,” she said, voice honed to a single edge. “It sells for no less than the last piece. Use the west courier again. No palace seal. No receipt. No witnesses.”

The man shifted, nerves bubbling just beneath his skin. “Yes, my—”

“If you delay,” Moiraine cut in, “I will end your life.” The thread pulsed with that promise until it hurt.

The man bowed again, lower this time. Siuan could count the vertebrae down his bent back. “Yes, my Queen,” her murmured.

Moiraine said nothing. Her lips didn’t twitch, not even in acknowledgment. But something shifted behind her eyes. Satisfaction, maybe. Relief?

She turned on her heel without another word, the cloak whispering slightly with the movement. Siuan didn’t follow right away. She lingered, her eyes drawn down to the parcel the man now cradled against his chest. Something inside her needed to see, needed to know what was being sent out of this place like a secret currency.

But the place told her, made her understand.

It was something precious, something old. Jewelry, most likely. Something with a family crest etched deep into gold, handed down through generations of women who were told to smile while dying inside. And now Moiraine had pawned it to buy time. Not for herself, she wasn’t escaping the palace again.

This was for Siuan.

Blink.

The sudden brightness hit like a slap. A dressing room unspooled around her, wide as a ballroom and too tall by far, made grander still by the windows. There were five of them, big as barn doors, their panes carved into a hundred tiny suns so the light fractured across the space in shards. More sun embellishments chased each other across the rug, rose up the damask wallpaper, catching in the gilt edges of the mirror frame until everything sparkled like something divine had shattered on the floor.

And in the middle of it sat Moiraine.

Three women orbited her like moons. Powder rose and settled and rose again, each dap a try to domesticate the purples and blues and yellows all over her body. Someone had tried to break her, and now others were trying to paint her whole again.

Moiraine held still the entire time, motionless as a porcelain doll. She didn’t flinch when the comb caught, didn’t gasp when hairpins bit into her scalp. Another pair of hands moved to the stays and began to pull. Then again. And again. Then once more for good measure until Moiraine’s waist shrank down to a number that pleased the room. Not her - the room. Her breath hiked, just once, and then she stole it back so carefully you could have missed it.

Siuan drifted forward. Out of habit. Out of love. Out of grief. She came to a stop behind Moiraine’s chair, behind the woman she’d follow into fire and back, and her hand rose before she could stop it. She wanted to place her palm at the nape of Moiraine’s neck, thumb brushing that soft spot where tension always pooled.

“Oh, my love…” Siuan whispered, the words torn straight from the wreckage of her chest. Before her sat the most beautiful bride she had ever seen - and the most tragic. Siuan didn’t bother to blink her tears away. Let them fall, let them run free. It didn’t matter anyway.

The room gave her nothing in return. The mirror showed no shared image, no haunted figure hovering just behind Moiraine’s shoulder. It showed only a bride, seated like an offering and ringed in attendants who worked with the grace of surgeons and the detachment of undertakers. Even with all those layers of blush and powder, Moiraine looked exhausted, like she’d burned through every no she every had days ago and was now stripped down to yes and obedience.

Still, something flickered. For a single heartbeat, her eyes slid closed. Just long enough for a fragile feeling to bloom. And Siuan felt it too.

The thread between them tugged, not tight but gentle this time. It felt like a sigh, a shared breath from another life; The cabin, the creek. A winter morning so clear the sky cracked with it and the snow on the ground shimmered like crushed diamonds. Siuan remembered the cold on her nose, the woodsmoke in her hair, the sound of laughter tangled around her name. Moiraine had laughed then, really laughed. With her whole mouth, with her shoulders. Her smile had been all mischief, the way she’d nudged Siuan’s hip while they cleaned the little kitchen, still surrounded by half-cooked breakfast and half-finished kisses.

For one unbearable, precious moment, the thread remembered it all.

They remembered.

And then the present yanked them back like a rope across the throat.

Pain screamed up Siuan’s arm as if the thread had turned into molten wire. It seared through her palm and up her shoulder, slicing through nerves and breath and memory. She gasped and her vision reeled, not from the pain but from what followed it.

Moiraine’s eyes opened. And shifted.

Just slightly, a bare sliver of movement. Half a degree, if that. Anyone else would’ve missed it but Siuan didn’t. She followed that glance to the far window. Moiraine measured it; she measured the glass, the height from the ground, the distance to the stones below… the fall.

“Too pale,” the senior attendant murmured, breaking the spell. She dusted more pink across Moiraine’s cheeks. “There, better.”

“Perfect,” said another.

It wasn’t.

Blink.

The chapel had been built to make people feel small on purpose. Every line of it pointed upward, away from mercy, toward something that didn’t care if you broke your neck looking. Tapestries lined the walls, the sun emblem repeated again and again until it stopped being decoration and started being a curse. The very air seemed doomed; dense with candle wax, incense, and the cold sweat of too many prayers that had gone nowhere.

Guests filtered into pews with the efficiency of soldiers. No whispers, no fidgeting, just that studied, neutral quiet of people who didn’t want to be noticed. Neutral was safe, neutral meant no consequences. They looked ahead, straight-backed and silent, their faces blank. Because it was easy, wasn’t it, when it wasn’t your life on the altar?

A low, thunderous hymn unfurled from the organ, making the floor hum through the soles of Siuan’s boots. The doors opened, and Moiraine entered.

Her Majesty, the bride.

Her gown had been crafted for elegance, a fall of pearly white fabric that caught light like fresh snowfall. The crowd exhaled as one; awe was what they were supposed to feel and they played their part well enough. But Siuan saw through it, saw the panic and misery flickering behind the veil.

“My lov-” Her voice cracked apart on the first syllable. She didn’t whisper for drama, she simply couldn’t make it louder. Couldn’t find the air. Couldn’t find anything solid to anchor her. If the world had given her so much as a stone, a chair, a goddamn candle, she would’ve hurled it into the aisle, stood her ground and bared her teeth at every last one of them.

But she was nothing here. Just smoke.

At the end of the aisle waited the groom. Adrien de Saxe-Cobourg. He was tall, polished, and utterly repulsive. He stood where the light favored him and he looked handsome in the way of men told all their lived that they were – all posture but no substance, arrogant as hell and entirely unaware how boring they truly were. His eyes traveled down Moiraine’s figure like she was a sum he’d already tabulated. Vows, dowry, dynasty; counted, weighed, filed. He smiled, and it wasn’t for her. It was for the prize, for the power.

Nobody loved. Nobody even pretended to.

Siuan stood just off the aisle, caught in place, invisible to all. The thread tethering her to Moiraine pulled taut, burning against her skin with a heat that bit straight through the marrow. It twitched in her palm like it wanted to yank Moiraine sideways, out of the dress, out of the chapel, out of this whole gilded nightmare. If only Siuan could hold it hard enough. If only she could be real again.

Time stuttered, and the ceremony skipped ahead like a page turned too fast. One moment, pomp. The next-

The priest cleared his throat; the moment for objections.

Siuan stepped forward. She planted her boots wide and lifted her chin high, voice ringing from her chest like thunder.

“I object.”

But nothing happened. Heads did not turn, eyes did not drag off the altar. The world ate her words and licked its teeth. The groom’s lip twitched, not in fear but in amusement. He looked smug, pleased not to be interrupted, like he already knew how the story ended.

Siuan’s pulse surged hot.

“I said I object!” she roared, her ribs straining.

But the silence was absolute and the sermon continued.

Eventually - inevitably - the groom said, “I do.” But after that the silence returned.

For a wild, desperate heartbeat, Siuan hoped for a miracle. That Moiraine might break script, might refuse, might tear the veil and crown from her head, gather her skirts in her hand and escape this hall, this day, this life. Or that the roof might come down. That the gods themselves might reject this lie and demand blood for it. But no such reckoning came. Only silence.

“She does,” came from the front pew, quiet enough to be called civilized. The cane that escorted the words clicked once against the stone - punctuation, not emphasis.

And that was that.

The priest bowed his head as if justifying himself before God, but it was obedience to power that guided his words. “I now proclaim Her Majesty Isabeau Katharina Zinsmeister, Queen of the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg,” he intoned, each syllable a coffin nail, “wife to His Majesty Adrien de Saxe-Cobourg, King of the Northern Confederation.”

The organ heaved, pipes screaming with forced triumph. The groom reached out and took what the ceremony said belonged to him now. He lifted Moiraine’s veil with unearned familiarity and pressed his mouth to hers. Siuan watched Moiraine’s throat pop like she swallowed poison.

The thread in her palm exploded with pain – pure, white, blinding. She gasped, certain it had cut her down to the bone, and reached out to steady herself. But her hands sliced right through the world.

Rage rose, sudden and sharp. She wanted to scream, wanted her voice back. She wanted her hands so she could tear the walls apart brick by brick, burn everything until the gold melted and the damned suns finally knew what heat felt like.

The husband took Moiraine’s arm and turned her down the aisle - and she went. But she didn’t move like a queen, not like a woman in love. She walked like someone trying to calculate how many parts of herself she could lose before she disappeared completely.

Blink.

Siuan stood in a corridor that hadn’t been there a heartbeat ago. She didn’t remember walking here. Hell, she didn’t remember anything between Moiraine vanishing down the aisle on another one’s arm and now. No transition, no logic.

Everything here was wrong. Not just unfamiliar – wrong in a deep, visceral way that made her skin crawl. The walls, which she knew had once been white marble, now wore the color of dried blood sealed beneath old varnish. Crimson deepened to black in the corners as if the stone had bled from the inside out. The light was dimmer here, honeyed by candles half melted down to their bases, wax dripping to the floor like tears.

The world had placed her at the threshold of a tall door and held her there. It loomed grotesque, carved in baroque, unnatural detail. Serpents and foxes twisted over its frame, symbols that didn’t match, didn’t fit the architecture, and yet seemed entirely deliberate.

Every instinct in her screamed that she had to run, had to leave now but it didn’t matter what she wanted. She might’ve been nailed down or carved from the same cursed wood because her boots wouldn’t move and her fingers refused to so much as twitch. All she could do was stand… and listen.

From behind the door came a sound.

A creak. Then another.

Not a footstep, not a chair, nothing innocent. No, it was wood shifting slow beneath weight and rhythm, the pace unmistakable.

Siuan’s stomach flipped hard, nausea curling behind her ribs. Her body seemed to understand before her mind did, and when her mind caught up, it tried to retreat so fast it made her dizzy.

Something inside her began to wail, but her mouth never opened. Her throat swelled with a scream that wouldn’t come. It banged against her ribs and teeth and spine until her jaw trembled and her vision blurred. She tried to move, to reach for the door knob, but her arms hung heavy and uncooperative, pinned to her sides as if some invisible god or devil had shackled her to her own helplessness.

The thread in her palm flared alive. First a twitch, then a burn, then a white-hot sear that brought water to her eyes. It beat against her skin, desperate and frantic, until it felt as though her veins had burst open and the blood was spilling out through her hand.

Drip… drip… drip.

Something ticked against the floor in perfect, grotesque harmony to the movement inside that room. A drop for every shift. A drop for every sound. A drop for every ruinous second that passed.

Her eyes flooded but wouldn’t blink. Her knees buckled inward but didn’t collapse. Every tendon in her body was screaming, but no sound came. The cords in her neck strained against her invisible chains and every muscle screamed for action… but none obeyed.

And just when she thought she couldn’t bear her own uselessness any longer, a voice came. Not from inside the room, not from outside either. It was a deep whisper that slithered through the very bones of her skull and left her shivering in its wake.

“You’re not here to help. You can’t.”

Blink.

The bath was as vast and hollow as the rest of the palace. It was built from cold marble and colder silence. The air was warm but held no comfort; it smelled of lavender steeped too long and soap that had scrubbed and scrubbed and still hadn’t managed to wash away what had been done.

Moiraine knelt.

Her hair was down, a dark cascade of silk that should have looked soft but didn’t. Her nightshift was fine silk, the kind made to flatter and display, but now it clung to her creased and damp where she’d gripped the fabric too hard. Her skin looked drained, her lips colorless, and a new bruise beneath her jaw had bloomed to its full, ugly truth.

Behind her, the mirror did her no favors. It offered back the same bones, the same blue eyes, but no spark. Just the ghost of a woman Siuan had once seen laugh beside a fire. Now she looked like something that might flicker and go out.

On the tiles beside her, a letter curled at the corners. The wax seal had been broken with care, not torn but peeled back like the contents inside were sacred. Water - or tears - had bloomed across the ink in dark, blotted splotches. The script swam in Siuan’s vision, but even blurred, she recognized Lan’s hand.

She crouched beside it, squinting hard. The lines swam just out of reach, but one word stood out, catching the light in a dark curl of ink: her name.

Lan had written it, and whatever the letter said, it hadn’t offered any comfort to Moiraine. No, it had broken something, brought her here - not just to the bathroom tiles but to this precise moment.

Moiraine’s fingertips hovered above the page, grazing it once like she was saying farewell. Then her hand fell away, shaking. The motion carried her toward the small silver scissors placed neatly nearby.

They were sharp and pointy, made for cutting ribbons and laces and pretty things; the kind of blade you could leave out in the open and still lie about its purpose. But in the low light, they caught a mean gleam. Moiraine turned them slowly in her hands, like she was weighing something more than metal.

All at once, Siuan understood. She went down on her knees beside her before she realized she’d moved. Her hands passed through Moiraine’s arm like fog. “Hey,” she rasped, voice low and desperate. “Don’t you even think about doin’ that.”

Moiraine didn’t look at her, didn’t seem to hear. Her lips parted silently and her gaze locked to the mirror. Her reflection watched her back with the same emptiness, and then, with both hands, she raised the scissors.

Steady. Certain.

The thread in Siuan’s palm felt like fire racing through her nerves but the pain didn’t matter. She lunged again, reached with everything she had. “Don’t- please, no- no, no!”

As if the world finally decided to show her some mercy, the door burst open. 

A young maid stumbled in, arms overloaded with folded linens, and froze mid-step. Her eyes went wide and the towels fell in a soft heap as she registered the scene.

“My Queen!”

She darted forward, slipping a little on the slick tiles, and flung herself toward Moiraine. Her hands flew for the scissors, nearly missing the grip, but she caught them by the hinge and yanked them away. They hit the floor with a metallic clatter and skidded across the tiles, spinning uselessly.

“I’m here, Your Majesty, I’m here!” the maid blurted, as if that alone could keep the world from breaking apart.

She dropped to her knees beside Moiraine, trembling harder than the woman herself, her voice thin and pitched high with panic. She had no idea what to do or say but how could she? She was just a girl dressed up in palace colors, not someone built to handle despair like this. And she shouldn’t have to.

Moiraine blinked at her once, twice, and stared at the girl as though the very concept of language had slipped from her mind.  

The scissors lay on their side, gleaming harmlessly like a dead beetle now. The maid reached for them, then hesitated, fingers hovering, before she finally snatched them up and hid them in her apron. “You’re safe,” she said, breathless. “You’re all right now.”

No one in the room believed it.

Moiraine’s chest heaved with the sound of someone breathing only because she must. In. Out. The rhythm of endurance, not calm. She turned her head toward the mirror, met her reflection again, and flinched as if the sight had struck her. Whatever she saw there - herself, her ruin - it burned and a shadow of quiet disgust crossed her face.

“Please go,” she said at last, voice stripped of everything but the old, automatic discipline. “Tell no one.”

“My Queen, I- I can’t-”

“Go.”

That single word broke whatever spell held the girl still. She bowed quickly, swallowed, squared her shoulders the way the palace had taught her. “Yes, Your Majesty.” Her voice cracked once more before she gathered the lines she’d dropped and fled.

Siuan stayed where she was, still kneeling on the cold floor. The thread in her palm had dimmed, no longer a fire but an ache. She wanted nothing more than to touch Moiraine’s face, to say something that mattered, something that could hold her together. She tried, hell she tried, to say all the words, but all that filled the silence were the slow drips from the faucet.

Blink.

Moiraine had changed.

Her hair was longer now, falling unkempt over shoulders that had forgotten how to stand tall. Her belly had rounded beneath her gown, while the rest of her had narrowed and thinned.

The palace hadn’t changed much. The room still kept the theme dutifully; suns sat smug and polished, tiny tyrants that glinted whenever light found them. Outside the windows, the gardens withstood the effects of winter through the sheer force of wealth. Hedges were sculptured into submission, trees trimmed until they looked more like décor than nature. Nothing here was allowed to die without permission.

A clock on the far wall clicked with an accusing, loud punctuality. With every tick, something shifted. Meals arrived under silver domes and left untouched. People came and went; ladies of the court with soft talk and hard advice, doctors armed with instruments that could measure everything but despair, priests with pamphlets about maternal duty, men with canes and crowns and harsh tongues - they tried everything power knew how to try but none of it touched Moiraine.

A new tray came in shining so bright it almost threw back a reflection. The senior attendant set it down with measured kindness. Her courtesy had been practiced long enough to have the stiffness of armor.

“Her Majesty must eat.” The words had been said so often they’d probably worn grooves into her throat. She picked up a spoon and set it into Moiraine’s hand as one might hand a quill to a stubborn schoolgirl. “For the child,” she added as if that was the line that was supposed to work, the sacred phrase meant to be the lever that turned a woman into a mother even if she’d never wanted to become one.

Moiraine looked at the spoon for a long moment. Her fingers flexed once, a motion that might have been refusal or surrender, before she set it neatly back on the tray without tasting a thing.

The attendant’s tone sharpened. “Eat.”

That did it.

Moiraine’s hand moved, but not toward the food. In one clean, precise motion she swept the entire tray aside. It struck the edge of the table and went spinning. Metal and silver and china took flight together. Soup arced through the air in a golden spill and landed on the rug where it pooled and spread. A pear skittered under a chair and rolled to a stop. Porcelain shattered bright and sharp, the sound too loud, too alive for a place built to choke emotion.

The attendant froze. Her lips parted as if to scold but nothing came. She looked at the wreckage like it might spread to her next. “I will send someone…,” she managed finally, the words fading before they reached purpose. The door closed behind her with the same obedient click all doors in this palace had learned.

Siuan stood rooted in the spill of ruined supper, boots soaking in warm broth, porcelain grinding under her heels, but none of it mattered a damn. Her eyes stayed on the other woman, and her mind lagged behind, refusing to catch up to the fact that Moiraine was pregnant.

Blink.

Urgency took the room by the throat.

Linen, basins, boiled water.

The chamber was stripped bare of everything else. Finesse had no place here; every polished surface had been covered or pushed aside to make room for what mattered now - the business of life and death.

The midwives moved around the bed with the reverence of people who knew how narrow that border ran. A priest hovered where a doctor might have stood, murmuring words in yet another holy tongue Siuan wasn’t meant to know but somehow did. But she didn’t listen, her mind was elsewhere.

Blood pooled beneath Moiraine. Not a stain but a spreading sea, darkening the sheets until they drank their fill.

Siuan’s pulse hammered in her ears. She looked down and caught the faint shimmer of the thread across her palm. It was bleeding too, bright as a cut vein. She could taste iron on her tongue and didn’t know if it was hers or Moiraine’s.

Moiraine lay small against the enormous bed, pale as the sheets that clung to her. She breathed when told. Cursed once, low, in a language they hadn’t beaten out of her yet. Rode the pain until it threw her, then clawed her way back into the saddle.

Siuan took her place at the head of the bed and dropped to her knees, her ghost-hand settling over Moiraine’s trembling fingers. It passed through more than it touched, but it was enough for her. “I’m here,” she said, voice hoarse. “You squeeze if you have to, you hear me? As hard as you want, I can take it.”

A command came from somewhere near the foot of the bed. “Breathe.”

Moiraine did.

“Again.”

She did.

“Now - push.”

She tried… and the bedclothes darkened further.

Blink.

Someone covered a face. Someone else covered a smaller one.

The air left the room like a breath that would never come back. The palace sighed and began to reorder itself as if death were only another household inconvenience to be tidied away. Servants came in pairs. Linens were stripped and taken to be burned or boiled, the floors washed until the smell of iron gave way to flowers and beeswax again.

The right words were spoken in the right order. Priests drafted letters about God’s mysterious plans, about mercy, about peace. Courtiers rehearsed their condolences in front of polished glass, perfecting the tremor in their voices, the delicate tilt of the head.

The uncle dictated the official announcement with the precision of a man adjusting a clock. “Complications,” he said, and the pen obliged. “Mother and child returned to the Light.” The secretary approved the phrasing with a nod as if choosing a tie.

The husband did not visit the room once. He had crowds to stand before, mourners to greet, a nation to console. His mouth drooped just enough for sympathy, mourning in the most photogenic way possible.

Everyone played their part in the great machinery of loss, well-oiled and without error, and by sundown, the chamber had been repurposed. A guest room again.

The palace resumed its stillness, obedient as ever.

Blink.

Siuan woke with a sound that was half a gasp and half a sob.  

Her body lurched upright in the dark, slick with sweat, lungs dragging for air that wouldn’t come. Her throat locked around the iron taste that came with every breath, the dream still clawing its way out of her. Her palm burned and her fingers curled tight around something that wasn’t there. When she forced them open, all she found was the old scar, throbbing as if the wound had just been made.

The iron taste wouldn’t leave. It coated her tongue, filled her head. The world shrank to sound; the ragged wheeze of her lungs, the pulse thudding behind her eyes. She couldn’t breathe right. Couldn’t stop shaking.

Her hands fumbled for the water jug beside the cot, sloshing it into her lap instead. The cold shocked her skin but did nothing to cool the fire raging beneath it.

The tent flap was shoved open with urgency, and Lan was there in the next heartbeat. He crouched at her side and caught her before she could collapse all the way. One hand braced her shoulder, the other guided the jug back into her grip, this time upright.

“Hey,” he said, voice low but urgent. “Siuan. Look at me. Talk to me. What happened?”

Siuan couldn’t answer at first. Her body was trembling so violently it felt like her bones might rattle loose. Her breath came too shallow, too fast, dragging air that burned down her throat and got stuck in her chest.

“Dream,” she choked out. “It… the blood. The-... She-” The rest caught, strangled by another cough. She spat red into her palm, stared at it until the blur of tears made it vanish.

Lan’s expression shifted. Calm on the surface, but his jaw was tight, his hand pressing firmer at her back. “Easy,” he murmured. “You’re alright. You’re here. Just a dream, that’s all. And I think you might want to-”

The flap rustled again before he could finish. This time it didn’t snap, it moved gently, as if whoever stood outside didn’t want to intrude. A figure paused at the threshold. The fire outside threw shadows across the canvas, and for a heartbeat all Siuan could see was the silhouette.

Then a voice followed, familiar in the deepest way.

“Lan?” it called softly. “Is she awake?”

The world fell silent.

For one long, impossible second, Siuan thought her mind had split clean in two, that the fever or the illness had finally tipped her into madness. But even through the haze of panic and the copper taste of her own blood, she knew that voice.

She knew it like the rhythm of waves, like the feel of rope beneath her fingers, like the scent of lavender crushed in rough hands. She would have known it across a battlefield, in a crowd, in the depths of a nightmare.

She’d have known it anywhere.