Multi-Fandom One Shots

My Lady (Moiraine Damodred)

A lone figure traveled through the valley, gripping their horse's reins tight and looking around anxiously. You hated this short-cut, but it would make the trip days faster.

But the valley was thick with bandits year round. Between the Mountains of Mist and Darkwood, the mystery surrounding both would wade off any intelligent travelers. You weren't stupid, just impatient and on quite the time limit.

You weren't young anymore. Wrinkles lined your face and hands, your knees hurt more in the mornings, and your back ached almost constantly. Your calloused hands from years of work instinctively gripped the handle of your sheathed sword. You were shit with it, but the hidden dagger at your waist.... Oh, just let a bandit try.

As if on cue, your horse came to a stop.

You froze, not understanding, and fear lit your insides on fire. "No, no," you argued. You quickly dismounted, taking the horse's bit in your hands and pulling the beast to face you. "We cannot stop here," you insisted, pulling.

Apparently, losing your weight helped the equine get some motivation because he continued trotting so slowly. You huffed a sigh before pulling him to a nearby cave entrance. He wouldn't enter so you tied him to a tree out there and sat on the tree's roots.

You were barely allowed a breath before an arrow flew from the treeline and impaled the steed. "Oh, I knew it," you mumbled. You stood, watching the raised treeline. You took the sword from the back of your saddle and raised it cautiously.

A thump behind you startled you and you'd not had time to more than jump in fright before your arms were brought behind you. "Well, what have we here?" was crooned into your ear through your thinning hair.

"Apparently, not those capable of dental hygiene," you quipped, turning away from the disgusting man and his horrid breath.

A cold, ragged laugh echoed from the front.

You looked ahead and found another man approaching, his teeth just as blackened at your jailer you were so sure. "Oh, fun. Two against one. Do you often mug your elders?" you asked sarcastically.

The archer (you guessed) started going through your things.

"I have nothing of value," you explained calmly.

He threw your basket-bag to the forest floor, bringing his own dagger out. He held it to your throat. "Except you life," he volunteered.

You settled your face to appear neutral.

"Beg."

"No," came the simple retort.

The blade dug into your throat, coaxing a slow steady flow of blood.

Your throat caught. After all you'd seen and done, you'd think you'd be ready.

A sword flew through the air, piercing the man before you easily.

Wide eyed, you reacted nonetheless, bringing your leg up to knock him down. The man behind you was in shock at seeing his friend/boss/person die and you wretched your hands free. You unsheathed your dagger, swiping out at the man while you spun. You ducked his consequential attack and moved as quickly as you could to the other side. A quick kick to his calf and he spun with you. You stood face to face when he suddenly slumped down.

A hand grasped his shoulder, shoving him to sleep against the mound of dirt leading up the valley walls.

Behind, in all her glory, stood your beloved. Who you had no seen in over 20 years. "My Lady," you breathed, stumbling to step back.

Moiraine Damodred, from the House of Damodred, Royal family of Cairhein, had barely aged a day. She followed you insistently, grabbing your shoulders through your shock. She murmured your own name back to you. She held your face in one hand, the side of your oozing throat with the other. The air shifted and a single tendril of what you recognized as her magic flowed over to you.

Your throat healed and the bleeding stopped.

A man stood off to the side. He held out a slot of cloth which Moiraine used to clean you up.

"My Lady," you repeated in much the same state of awe.

Her eyes crinkled a bit at the corners as her lips turned up and her eyes came alight. "I've not been your Lady in some time," she argued, finishing, again with your name. You weren't the only one affected by the new presence. Good.

"You will always be my Lady," you concluded stubbornly.

Her smile seemed to turn up like adding grease to a bonfire. She took your hands, guiding you back into the open valley. "Come, it is not safe here."

"Moiraine," came the vocalization of her companion. So he did speak.

You both turned to him and what he was facing. Your horse laid on the ground, your bag beside him, its contents spilling out. "No!" you shouted, racing over to both the beast and herbs. You gathered the plants in your bag, holding the deceased equine's face tenderly. You murmured a prayer in the Old Tongue and pulled the bag over your shoulder. You took the cloak off the back of his saddle, the valley's humidity warming you just fine previously. A hand on your shoulder prompted you to stand, though your croaky knees argued and that hand provided more support upon realizing.

Your Lady Moiraine took your shoulders, forcing you to face her. She called you again: "You'll ride with me, but we must make haste from this place." It wasn't a question.

And just like in the old days of a servant and her mistress, you nodded and followed. You helped her onto her own horse and she held out a hand to lift you in return. Just like the old days....

The sun had set by the time the three of you came to a stop. The mystery man disappeared into the night and Your Lady sat beside you. She'd been touching you non-stop. It had reignited that which you'd thought you'd killed so long ago.

"Why were you in the Valley?" Moiraine asked softly.

You sighed. "My niece, in Baerlon, she's ill. I was sent to fetch the herbs to cure her, only found in Alcruna."

She winced. "That's a long ride to make on your own."

"Someone had to. My sister insisted she stay with her daughter in case I failed. Her father must work if the family is to stay in their lodging."

Moiraine sighed. "My Warder and I need to make a stop in the Edmond's Field, but we could easily follow you to Baerlon. How bad was it when you left?"

"She was bedridden."

"How long have you been gone?"

You shook your head. "Too long."

She breathed your name like she had so many years ago. The depth of shared emotion resounded in you.

You took the hand on your knee. "Moiraine," you sighed in response.

Excited by your use of her given name, she answered your name once more, this iteration so, so deep. She leaned into you.

You raised your head, catching her lips easily. The brief moment you allowed yourself to fall into the passion, it was like every part of your body came alive. You jerked back with a gasp. "It's been 20 years. So stupid of me. You must have-"

Her fingers gripped your chin, bringing your lips wherever she desired.