shadowsong26: (no one mourns)
shadowsong26 ([personal profile] shadowsong26) wrote2011-09-21 12:34 pm
Entry tags:

wheel of time fic

Title: Lighter Than a Feather
Author: shadowsong26
Rating: R
Fandom: The Wheel of Time
Characters/Pairings: Mazrim Taim, Logain Ablar, OMC
Warnings: Alternate character interpretation, madness, murder. Spoilers through Winter's Heart
Summary: The night after Rand and Nynaevecleanse the taint from saidin, Mazrim Taim goes to deal with an Asha'man who recently snapped.
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.

Mazrim Taim walked in a slow arc around the Black Tower's grounds, letting his mind wander for a moment, counting the number of men holding saidin. More than twice as many as there had been six months ago, even without figuring in the men who were off on various missions. A decent enough army.

Army. He kept his irritation off his face, but couldn't help but remember that this wasn't his army, not really. Bloody al'Thor. Bloody Dragon Reborn demanded an army, and one couldn't refuse such a request. No, the Bloody Motherloving Dragon Reborn demanded an army, and one merely asked when, where, and how large.

One certainly didn't point out the impossibility of putting together a cohesive force when every man knew that the man next to him was likely to snap at the exact wrong moment and rip his heart out instead of defending him.

Taim swore inside his head again, as Logain Ablar fell into step beside him. There was no one living who knew him better, which was probably the primary reason they had had such...tension.

But he knew Logain just as well. They had different favorites and skewed goals and ideologies, but there were some things they did see eye to eye on, and, unlike with the Bloody Motherloving Lord Dragon Reborn (burn him), those differences were set aside with reasonable ease when there was truly drastic need to do so.

Logain finally broke the silence. "You don't have to do this, Mazrim. I can handle it."

Mazrim shot his partner an even look. "I don't enjoy it, Logain. I'm not...slipping."

"I didn't say you were," Logain replied. "But there's...other things to make a man run mad." He studied his fingers, and Mazrim felt him seize saidin.

He had to give a little half-smile at that. He could easily guess the first thing that had come to Logain's mind, and it was only tangentially related to the issue at hand. "It's my responsibility, Logain. Not yours."

"Because he left you in charge instead of me?"

Mazrim felt a spike of bile. "Yes," he hissed.

Wisely, Logain chose a tangent. "At least this will be the last time."

Mazrim gave an ugly little laugh. "What was it you just said? There are other ways to make a man run mad?"

"But with the taint gone, Mazrim--"

"Some of them have slipped so far that I doubt it will make any difference."

Logain stared at him and Mazrim could almost feel his annoyance as a physical pressure. "Please forgive me for showing a hint of optimism about the greatest thing to ever happen to us," he snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mazrim pinched the bridge of his nose. "Logain--"

"Don't, Mazrim. Just...don't." Logain took a deep breath and seemed to calm at least a little. "I'll be in the usual place, if he hurts you."

Mazrim nodded. "I'll let you know when it's done, either way."

Logain didn't acknowledge that, just turned on his heel and walked away.

Mazrim watched him go, then let out a long slow breath and continued on, in a much more direct path this time, to where they had put Donnil after subduing him. Sometimes they were lucky, when an Asha'man snapped--they killed him in the process of subduing him, and he didn't manage to take anyone with him. They hadn't been lucky with Donnil--two Dedicated were dead, a Soldier likely to follow even after an intense Healing session, and all three of the Aes Sedai Donnil had bonded had been killed in the explosion, along with the house he'd built for them.

Those deaths weren't Taim's fault--he knew that, of course. No more than five deaths from a massive earthquake would have been (since he wasn't particularly skilled at reading the earth well enough to predict them). But there was a difference between fault and responsibility, and he certainly had the latter.

He reached the Red Room, where they kept those snapped Asha'man who weren't killed outright, shielded and restrained. Donnil was there, huddled in the center, eyes flickering around him almost too fast for M'Hael to follow.

"They said you'd come," Donnil told him.

M'Hael swore briefly inside his head--it was always harder when they were relatively coherent. "Who said?"

"The spiders in the walls."

"What else do they tell you, Donnil?"

"Things." Donnil paused. "Bad things. Can you untie me, please, M'Hael? I think they want to hurt me."

"They're in the walls, Donnil," M'Hael told him, carefully approaching. "They can't get you out here."

Donnil shook his head. "I thought that. I thought that. But they've moved, M'Hael. They're in the floor and the ceiling, now, too. Coming to tear me to pieces."

"That's not going to happen," M'Hael said softly, kneeling next to Donnil.

"What are you doing?" he asked, jerking away. "Get away from me!"

"I'm trying to make the spiders go away," M'Hael said. "I need to be close to do that."

Donnil shrieked something unintelligible, and the shield around him shattered. M'Hael seized saidin himself, but the madman was faster. Even years of practice weren't quite enough for him to ignore his hands bursting into flame, but he only faltered for a second before he managed to snap Donnil's neck with a weave of Air.

He dropped to his knees, panting, and realized he'd done it wrong--usually he managed to sever everything, so death was instantaneous. Tonight he'd have to watch Donnil suffocate.

M'Hael refused to close his eyes until the broken Asha'man finally stopped moving.

He lurched to his feet again and paused. He needed to find Logain--M'Hael had many Talents, but Healing wasn't one of them--but for a moment, just a moment, he needed to stay with Donnil's body.

Donnil had heard murderous spiders in the walls. Some of the others had spoken of Myrddraal in the shadows, or the shadows themselves stalking them. M'Hael closed his eyes, listening for rustling, or whispering, or footsteps, or any indication of any threat.

M'Hael heard empty silence.