(Untitled)

[blue_ajah]

*Moiraine comes downstairs from her room. A very close observer might notice that although she looks calm, as always, she appears to be deep in thought.*

*She accepts tea, fruit, and bread from the bar, then takes a seat at a table. Once there, she takes a small book from her belt pouch and begins to look through it.*

Comments

[pjpettigrew]

Peter, who is staggering through the bar, looks bad. He is not drunk--rather, he seems too sick and exhausted to see where he is going, and he is continually bumping into chairs, tables and people. His face is haggard and drawn, his mouth tense, and there is something dark and vicious swimming in the depths of his eyes.

A chair sticking out from a table proves to be his downfall. He collides with it, goes reeling, trips over his own feet, and slams into the table that Moiraine is sitting at. For a moment, his expression is terrified, but this is immediately swept away by a look of enraged hatred.

[blue_ajah]

*Moiraine looks up at Peter, serenely, then her eyes widen and several expressions flicker across her face, resolving into a look of calm determination.*

Peter. You are not well. Please, sit down before you fall.

[wine_women_song]

*looks at Peter as Moiraine greets him*

Are you ok sir?

[pjpettigrew]

Peter takes several deep breaths. "I'm fine," he says in a weak but recognisable voice, knowing it is anything but the truth. "Really. Just lost my balance. I'm f-"

He breaks off, as the darkness within him chooses that moment to attack again.

He surfaces again, minutes or perhaps hours later, sweating and shivering cold, and with the feeling that he has just lost another battle, as he has lost so many.

He staggers to a chair, and buries his aching head in his hands.

[wine_women_song]

*kneels next to Peter and hands him his flask*

Drink, sir.

*he looks at Moiraine*

Can you help him at all?

[blue_ajah]

*quietly, so that Peter might not hear*

Yes, I believe that I can help him. If he will accept it willingly... and perhaps still even if he will not. This poison must not be allowed to spread.

[blue_ajah]

*Moiraine watches him, her expression cool and distant, but with faint pity.*

Do not bother to lie to me. Indeed, you are not fine, and I sensed this evil the moment I saw you. You are very far from well -- you are poisoned with Shadow, and it is destroying you utterly. If it does not kill you first, it will soon consume you, and then a few minutes in your presence will be enough to poison those around you and destroy them as well.

This is something new; it is more than the taint you carried before. I presume that you did not choose it, or you would not be so ill.

*She pauses.*

I can help you, I believe. Will you accept Healing?

*She watches him closely.*

[pjpettigrew]

Peter is silent for a few moment. A silent struggle passes over his face--rage, terror, pain, hatred all flickering across his features. At last, the struggle ends and he looks at Moiraine with resolve.

"I don't know why you'd want to. You don't trust me. But...I've been trying for so long. And I can't do this alone.

"And no thank you," he adds, speaking to Dionysus. "I don't dare drink. It weakens control. I can't--I daren't--"

Realising he's stammering, he ceases speaking.

[blue_ajah]

*Moiraine smiles faintly.*

Do you not know? Perhaps we may speak of the reason another time, then. For now, you must trust me. I will do what I can for you.

*She opens her belt pouch, removes a small bundle of white silk, and unwraps it to reveal a darkened ivory figurine. Rising, Moiraine moves to stand at Peter's side, cradling the figure in one hand, and begins to glow with a bright, golden-white light. She speaks in a commanding tone.*

Remain still, Peter.

*She reaches out one glowing hand towards his forehead.*

[wine_women_song]

*watches quietly, still holding the flask (full of water at this point) nearby*

[pjpettigrew]

Peter stares at her, wild-eyed. He is afraid to move, and afraid not to. Judging from his expression, he truly believes, with all his heart, that Moiraine is about to kill him, and the only thing keeping him here is the certainty that the alternative is much much worse.

[blue_ajah]

*Moiraine's hand touches Peter's forehead, and her eyes close. Her face takes on a look of intense concentration, and she goes very still.*

*The light around her brightens until she blazes as though on fire, and thousands of glistening threads of saidar are spun into an incredibly complex weave around Peter, surrounding him with Power.*

*Slowly, very slowly, a swirling cloud begins to form, drawn in some way from within Peter. It looks like oily smoke, and thickens with each moment that passes.*

[muddypetticoats]

*Elizabeth spies the scene from across the room, where she has been in discussion with Regulus and Desire. Excusing herself from them hastily, she practically runs across the room.*

What are you doing?

*She pulls at Moiraine's arm.*

[pjpettigrew]

Peter, moaning, writhes in the chair. He clenches his fists tightly, so tightly that his nails dig into the palms, which then begin to bleed. Slowly, almost convulsively, he begins to shake.

[blue_ajah]

*Moiraine's eyes fly open as her hand is pulled away from Peter. The weave flickers, then stabilizes as she desperately pours strength into holding it steady, and she cries out in pain.*

If you would not kill him, then let me go!

*She jerks her hand free and places it back on Peter's forehead.*

[muddypetticoats]

Peter!

*The pulling at Moiraine's arm becomes wrenching.*

You are killing him! Look at him! What form of healing could cause such torment to its patient? Stop it, please!