“Galad,” Elayne said, surprised at the warmth she felt for her half-brother. She rose, holding out her hands toward him. She’d spent most of their childhood frustrated with him for one reason or another, but it was good to see him alive and well. “Where have you been?”
“I have been seeking truth,” Galad said, bowing with an expert bow, but he did not approach to take her hands. He rose and glanced to the side. “I found that which I did not expect. Steel yourself, sister.”
Elayne frowned as the second, shorter figure lowered her hood. Elayne’s mother.
Elayne gasped. It was her! That face, that golden hair. Those eyes that had so often looked at Elayne as a child, judging her, measuring her—not merely as a parent measured her daughter, but as a queen measured her successor. Elayne felt her heart beating in her chest. Her mother. Her mother was alive.
Morgase was alive. The Queen still lived.
Morgase locked eyes with Elayne, then—oddly—Morgase looked down. “Your Majesty,” she said with a curtsy, still remaining beside the door.
Elayne controlled her thoughts, controlled her panic. She was Queen, or she would have been Queen, or…Light! She’d taken the throne, and she was at least the Daughter-Heir. But now her own mother came back from the bloody dead?
“Please, sit,” Elayne found herself saying, gesturing Morgase toward the seat beside Dyelin. It did Elayne good to see that Dyelin wasn’t dealing with the shock any better than Elayne. She sat with her hand gripping her cup of tea, knuckles white, eyes bulging.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Morgase said, walking forward, Galad joining her and resting a hand on Elayne’s shoulder in a comforting way. He then fetched himself a seat from the other side of the room.
Morgase’s tone was more reserved than Elayne remembered. And why did she continue to call Elayne that title? The Queen had come in secret, with hood drawn. Elayne regarded her mother, putting the pieces together as she sat. “You renounced the throne, didn’t you?”
Morgase gave a stately nod.
“Oh, thank the Light,” Dyelin said, letting out a loud breath, hand raised to her breast. “No offense, Morgase. But for a moment there, I imagined a war between Trakand and Trakand!”
“It wouldn’t have come to that,” Elayne said, virtually at the same time that her mother said something similar. Their eyes met, and Elayne allowed herself to smile. “We would have found a…reasonable accommodation. This will do, though I certainly wonder at the circumstances of the event.”
“I was being held by the Children of the Light, Elayne,” Morgase said. “Old Pedron Niall was a gentleman in most respects, but his successor was not. I would not let myself be used against Andor.”
“Bloody Whitecloaks,” Elayne muttered under her breath. Light, they’d actually been telling the truth when they’d written, claiming to have Morgase in their possession?
Galad eyed her, raising an eyebrow. He placed the chair he’d brought over, then undid his cloak, revealing the brilliant white uniform underneath, with the sunburst on the breast.
“Oh, that’s right,” Elayne said, exasperated. “I almost forgot that. Intentionally.”
“The Children had answers, Elayne,” he said, sitting. Light, but he was frustrating. It was good to see him, but he was frustrating!
“I don’t wish to discuss it,” Elayne said. “How many Whitecloaks have come with you?”
“The entire force of Children accompanied me to Andor,” Galad said. “I am their Lord Captain Commander.”
Elayne blinked, then glanced at Morgase. The elder Trakand nodded. “Well,” Elayne said, “I see we have much to catch up on.”
Galad took that as a request—he could be very literal—and began explaining how he’d come by his station. He was quite detailed about it, and Elayne occasionally glanced at her mother. Morgase’s expression was unreadable.
Once Galad was done, he asked after the Succession war. Conversing with Galad was often like this: an exchange, more formal than familiar. Once, it had frustrated her, but this time she found that—against her better wishes—she’d actually been missing him. So she listened with fondness.
Eventually, the conversation wound down. There was more to talk about with him, but Elayne was dying for a chance to speak just with her mother. “Galad,” Elayne said, “I’d like to talk further. Would you be amenable to an early dinner this evening? You may take refreshment in your old quarters until then.”
He nodded, standing. “That would be well.”
“Dyelin, Master Norry,” Elayne said. “My mother’s survival will lead to some…delicate issues of state. We will need to publish her abdication officially, and quickly. Master Norry, I’ll leave the formal document to you. Dyelin, please inform my closest allies of this news so that they will not be taken by surprise.”
Dyelin nodded. She glanced at Morgase—Dyelin wasn’t one of those whom the former Queen had embarrassed during the days of Rahvin’s influence, but she had undoubtedly heard the stories. Then Dyelin withdrew with Galad and Master Norry. Morgase glanced at Birgitte as soon as the door closed; the Warder was the only other one in the room.
“I trust her like a sister, Mother,” Elayne said. “An insufferable older sister, sometimes, but a sister nonetheless.”
Morgase smiled, then rose and took Elayne by the hands, pulling her up into an embrace. “Ah, my daughter,” she said, tears in her eyes. “Look at what you’ve done! Queen in your own right!”
“You trained me well, Mother,” Elayne said. She pulled back. “And you’re a grandmother! Or soon will be!”
Morgase frowned, looking down at her. “Yes, I thought as much from looking at you. Who…?”
“Rand,” Elayne said, blushing, “though it’s not widely known, and I’d rather it stay that way.”
“Rand al’Thor…” Morgase said, her mood darkening. “That—”
“Mother,” Elayne said, raising a hand to grasp hers. “He’s a good man, and I love him. What you have heard is exaggeration or bitter rumor.”
“But he’s…Elayne, a man who can channel, the Dragon Reborn!”
“And still a man,” Elayne said, feeling his knot of emotions in the back of her mind, so warm. “Just a man, for all that is demanded of him.”
Morgase drew her lips into a thin line. “I shall withhold judgment. Though in a way I still feel that I should have thrown that boy in the Palace dungeons the moment we found him skulking in the gardens. I didn’t like how he looked at you even then, mind you.”
Elayne smiled, then gestured back to the seats. Morgase sat, and this time Elayne took the seat directly beside her, still clutching her mother’s hands. She sensed amusement from Birgitte, who stood with her back against the far wall, one knee bent so that the sole of her boot rested against the wood paneling.
“What?” Elayne asked.
“Nothing,” Birgitte said. “It’s good to see you two acting like mother and child, or at least woman and woman, rather than staring at each other like two posts.”
“Elayne is Queen,” Morgase said stiffly. “Her life belongs to her people, and my arrival threatened to upset her Succession.”
“It still might muddy things, Mother,” Elayne said. “Your appearance could open old wounds.”
“I will have to apologize,” Morgase said. “Perhaps offer reparations.” She hesitated. “I had intended to stay away, daughter. It would be best if those who hated me still thought me dead. But—”
“No,” Elayne said quickly, squeezing her hands. “This is for the best. We simply will have to approach it with skill and care.”
Morgase smiled. “You make me proud. You will be a wonderful queen.”
Elayne had to force herself to stop beaming. Her mother had never been free with compliments.
“But tell me, before we go further,” Morgase said, voice growing more hesitant. “I have heard reports that Gaebril was…”
“Rahvin,” Elayne said, nodding. “It’s true, Mother.”
“I hate him for what he did. I can see him, using me, driving spikes through the hearts and loyalty of my dearest friends. And yet there is a part of me that longs to see him, irrationally.”
“He used Compulsion on you,” Elayne said softly. “There is no other explanation. We will have to see if any from the White Tower can Heal it.”
Morgase shook her head. “Whatever it was, it is faint now, and manageable. I have found another to give my affection.”
Elayne frowned.
“I will explain that at another point,” Morgase said. “I’m not certain I understand it yet. First we must decide what to do about my return.”
“That is easy,” Elayne said. “We celebrate!”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing, Mother,” Elayne said. “You have returned to us! The city, the entire nation, will celebrate.” She hesitated. “And after that, we will find an important function for you.”
“Something that takes me away from the capital, so I cast no unfortunate shadows.”
“But a duty that is important, so that you are not thought of as having been put out to pasture.” Elayne grimaced. “Perhaps we can give you charge of the western quarter of the realm. I have little pleasure in the reports of what is happening there.”
“The Two Rivers?” Morgase asked. “And Lord Perrin Aybara?”
Elayne nodded.
“He is an interesting one, Perrin is,” Morgase said thoughtfully. “Yes, perhaps I could be of some use there. We have something of an understanding already.”
Elayne raised an eyebrow.
“He was behind my safe return to you,” Morgase said. “He is an honest man, and honorable as well. But also a rebel, despite his good intentions. You will not have an easy time of it if you come to blows with that one.”
“I’d rather avoid it.” She grimaced. The easiest way to deal with it would be to find him and execute him, but of course she wasn’t going to do that. Even if reports had her fuming enough to almost wish that she could.
“Well, we shall begin working on a way.” Morgase smiled. “It will help you to hear of what happened to me. Oh, and Lini is safe. I don’t know if you’ve worried over her or not.”
“To be honest, I didn’t,” Elayne said, grimacing, feeling a spike of shame. “It seems that the collapse of Dragonmount itself couldn’t harm Lini.”
Morgase smiled, then began her story. Elayne listened with awe, and not a little excitement. Her mother lived. Light be blessed, so many things had gone wrong recently, but at least one had gone right.
The Three-fold Land at night was peaceful and quiet. Most animals were active near dusk and dawn, when it was neither sweltering nor freezing.
Aviendha sat on a small rock outcropping, legs folded beneath her, looking down upon Rhuidean, in the lands of the Jenn Aiel, the clan that was not. Once Rhuidean had been shrouded in protective mists. That was before Rand had come. He’d broken the city in three very important, very discomforting ways.