acrookedpath | [pfsb]

She arches an eyebrow, considering the teasing sound of his voice, and considering as well whether this is something she wishes to do - then gives the faintest shrug.

Silver-gold light glimmers at her fingertips for an instant, harder here to see than it was in the bar, but visible to a discerning eye all the same. She flicks the weave at an empty spot against the far wall, where a series of small paintings hang, only for them to vanish entirely as the illusion dissipates and a bookcase filled with scrolls and journals and a set of wooden boxes appears.

Edited 2023-02-20 16:19 (UTC)

Wei Wuxian stares -- he hadn't expected Moiraine would actually respond this way! -- then bursts into laughter, making an immediate beeline for the scrolls. To his credit, though, he doesn't touch them.

(Yet.)

"So what is in all of these that requires their hiding?"

"Wei Ying--"

Perhaps it is like the restricted section in the Cloud Recesses library, and if so, some of these may be dangerous. Lan Wangji is under no misconception that such a thing would stop Wei Ying if there were need, but still. He joins him beside the bookcase.

Behind them, the Aes Sedai observes, as unruffled as ever. "They contain a number of things. Histories, personal journals, records of weaves and other techniques, letters, and artifacts of sorts are among them." Her dark-eyed glance is sharp and keen as she watches them.

"Artifacts?"

As if reassuring Lan Zhan that yes, he will not grab for something dangerous without warning, he clasps his hands behind his back as he peers closer at the shelf.

"Of sorts," Moiraine repeats.

Some few of the books on the hidden shelves are of the sort that have been printed rather than handwritten. Several are of poetry, including a copy of The Tower, by Yeats, which stands next to a thick dark tome with a red rose on the spine and a well-worn copy of a Bible marked with a narrow blue ribbon. Scrolls are likewise bound with ribbon and neatly stacked beside a polished wooden box with the only pattern to it from the wood-grain of its making. There is no sign of a lock.

Wei Wuxian hums, his curiousity plain. After a quick glance to Lan Zhan -- it's all right, don't worry about me -- he skims a finger along the darkest book, outlining the shape of the rose, then grasps it by the top of its spine to tip it forward into his waiting hand.

The Wheel weaves, and all things are part of the Pattern. Moiraine watches as Wei Wuxian lifts the last volume of the series, and holds herself perfectly still.

She does not miss the swift, wary glance that Lan Wangji casts her, but does not let herself react to it.

The book is damaged, as it happens, and missing quite a few pages from the back. The title embossed on the front cover, above the image of a man standing in a field of red roses, is The Dark Tower.

Histories and artifacts, she had said, and he cannot miss either her stillness or the look Lan Zhan cuts her way.

He lets the book fall open. It feels a little wobbly and lopsided from the missing pages, the spine gaping too large; the rounded lettering sweeps into the clean, precise angles of a thousand brushstrokes.

I denied Discordia and regret nothing; I have spat into the bodiless eyes of the Crimson King and rejoice; I threw my lot with the gunslinger and the White and never once questioned the choice.

Wei Wuxian huffs the smallest breath of a laugh, and there is recognition in the sound.

"Something amuses you?" Coolness tinges her words.

"Ah, no," he says, glancing up with a crooked smile. He flips a few pages further into the book. "It is not a mirror of the Wheel, as you explained before. But I see another mirror, perhaps. That's all."

He slips a finger into the gap of the spine, studies the book another moment, then closes it to return it to the shelf.

"Perhaps," Moiraine says, and it sounds like agreement. "The Wheel weaves."

"Mm," he says, and almost laughs again at how much he sounds like Lan Zhan in that moment.

Well, she didn't object to him touching the book, so! He moves on to the little wooden box, tapping its side once, twice, before he opens the lid.

"Do not touch the contents." The command is as sharp as any blade. A faint gleam shines under her skin as she embraces saidar, holding herself ready.

Inside the box, a gleaming black raven's feather lies beside a few other objects on top of several folded letters and pages torn from a book, the front of which says Coda. Found. A sprig of bright red amaranth wrapped in green rosemary perfumes the air with a faint scent, and light gleams from a silver coin of the same sort that she had given Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji earlier. Beside the coin lies a shattered cuendillar seal, the two halves of the Flame of Tar Valon and the Dragon's Fang divided with their edges crumbling into dust. At the end of the box lies an ivory bracelet in the shape of an acrobat bent backward in an arc, hands grasping ankles - and to those who can sense power, it radiates incredible potential.

It is quite the collection. And Wei Wuxian, who has never met an order he didn't immediately wish to break, asks cheerfully: "Why? Are they dangerous?"

That bracelet in particular -- its aura seems to bend the air, like the weight of its power has wrinkled reality itself. It reminds Wei Wuxian a little of the statuette Moiraine let him hold once. What had she called it? And that cracked seal that raidiates the faintest smudges of resentful energy, like grave dirt...

His hand hovers over the open box, as if pressing down against the strange energies that rise up.

Light flashes with a sharp crack, and a weave of Air slaps the back of Wei Wuxian's hand away as though disciplining an errant novice. In the same moment, a second weave yanks the box across the room into her hands.

Lan Wangji whirls in an instant, placing himself between Wei Ying and Moiraine, Bichen drawn and leveled at her throat.

"Lan Zhan!"

He'd expected the reprimand (though did not expect it to come quite that swiftly) and had been all set to wind up into no worse than a dramatic pout in response. But now --

Almost as fast as Lan Zhan moves, he does, too, stepping around him to throw an arm across his husband's chest.

"Lan Zhan." His eyes stay fixed on Moiraine for a beat, then shift to Lan Zhan. "Don't. There's been no harm done."

You don't have to protect me. Not now.

"And there will not be." His tone is as level as Bichen's blade or the gaze he has locked on the Aes Sedai, watching for any reaction.

"You are not hers to chastise."

"I'm fine, Lan Zhan."

Cautiously, Wei Wuxian moves again, settling his hand atop Lan Zhan's sword arm. He tries to catch his gaze.

"Lan Gaidin." There is something very complex about her tone as she gifts him with the title, but if there is amusement, she keeps it well hidden.

"Your point has been made, as it were." Deliberately, she allows the glow around her to fade, although she holds herself open to seize it again in an instant if need be.

He does not understand what Moiraine calls him, but just as he felt the weight of the bracelet's power, he feels the weight of this word.

Slowly, he presses on Lan Zhan's arm. He knows Lan Zhan won't lower Bichen unless he truly wishes -- not with that arm strength! -- but just as Lan Zhan wants to make his point clear, so does Wei Wuxian.

He holds the woman's eyes for another moment, then lowers the blade and sheathes it before he glances at Wei Ying.

He will not apologize, not for this, but he cannot help the worry that flickers in his eyes.

Wei Wuxian quirks another lopsided smile. He gives Lan Zhan's arm a small squeeze in reassurance, then draws his hand away.

"Well!" he says, too brightly. "I'd rather go see the anomaly than sit inside and read all day anyway. How far is it from here?"

"Too far to walk easily," Moiraine says, matter-of-fact. She moves back across the room to the bookcase, sets the box on its shelf, then reconsiders and removes the bracelet from it.

She snaps it into place around her wrist, and flicks her fingers. The box acquires a silver gleam around its edges, and then the entire bookcase fades from view once more.

"I must make a call," she says, as she crosses back out toward the main room. "You are both welcome to join me."

Wei Wuxian eyes the bracelet, but if he had hope of sating his curiosity before, the moment will not be returning any time soon.

So, with an amiable shrug, he says, "All right," and follows along after her.

Lan Wangji prowls along beside Wei Ying into the other room, watching closely as Moiraine moves to a long counter and picks up a bright yellow device in her hand, one that's connected by a twisted cord to a box with buttons. She holds it to her ear and presses a few buttons, then waits.

"Hi, Lucy. This is Moiraine. Is Hawk around?" Another woman's voice screeches from the device, which Moiraine pulls away from her ear with a faint sigh.

"Oh hi Moiraine, you know, it's really good to hear from you, I was just thinking that it had been a few weeks since we met up for coffee, and with Agent Cooper still out of town - you know I still think that suits him better than Deputy, so--

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