Born in Darkness

Disclaimer: I own nothing in Wheel of TIme. It all belongs to Robert Jordan. Rhiannon is mine, but I don't make any money off of her.

A short interlude chapter. Reviews are always welcome. If you don't like it, please offer constructive criticism so that I can improve my writing.

Chapter 2

The hot water seared the stench from her skin, banished the soreness from her muscles, and quieted her mind. She reached up and untwisted her hair, letting it spill out into the water. A dead-eyed serving girl sat on a stool beside her, staring at the wall.

She had just finished rinsing her hair when she heard the door open again.

She cursed vehemently in a language unknown outside the black mountain and stood up, water dripping off her naked body.

She grabbed hold of the Source, felt the heat rush to her head, snatched the oil lamp on the table and sent it hurling into the next room. The intruder caught it deftly, in mid air with a well placed curl of saidin and replaced it as he walked into the room.

“If I knew you were going to be naked, I would have come by sooner,” he said brightly.

“You may not have been too pleased with what you walked in on earlier. Or whom,” she snapped, picking up a towel.

“I did pass Rahvin, thankfully on his way back to whatever rock he crawled out from under. I don’t know why you put up with that insufferable asshole.”

“He’s good in bed.”

“Of course he is,” he said flatly, “It’s his only marketable skill.”

“Since you’re obviously not leaving, would you mind handing me my robe?” she asked, stepping out of the tub.

He plucked it off the back of the chair and draped it across her shoulders.

“Of course, you don’t have much to compare him to...”

“And of course, you would like the chance to prove that you can do a far better job.”

“That’s not what I was...”

“Stop. Just stop while you’re ahead.”

He paused, took a breath as if to speak further, then, “You looked great out there today.”

“Thanks,” she dismissed the serving girl with a gesture and stepped past him into the sitting room. “You have a few minutes to sit with me?”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“I wouldn’t have asked...” she started, harshly.

“Don’t start with the attitude, Rhee, because I don’t have to listen to it.” He started for the door.

“Wait, I... I’m sorry. It’s just...”

He turned back around and seated himself smoothly on the couch. She picked a comb up from the table and sat on the floor beside the couch, legs crossed in front of her, and started tugging at her hair. He regarded her for a while in silence.

She finished messing with her hair and tossed the comb back onto the table, then scooted closer to him. “Sing something.”

His pride still ruffled from earlier, he replied, “Giving me orders now?” and pushed her away from him, roughly.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, the pain glistening in them was a rare sight. “Please. I’m sorry. Please.”

His expression softened, just a bit. She laid her still damp head in his lap. He reached down to run his fingers through her hair.

“What would you like me to sing for you?”

“A love song.”

“I’m afraid all the ones I know end unhappily.”

“Don’t they all?” she murmured softly.

He sang for her then, as he had so many nights before this one. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried by the song, far away beyond the Mountain, across the Blight, to the Shining World beyond the darkness.