Gawyn kept his distance from the insects, but the scent of roses was so pervasive that he felt bathed in it. Once he finished his walk, his clothing would probably smell of the perfume for hours.
Elayne was speaking with several advisors near one of the benches beside a small, lily-covered pond. She was showing her pregnancy, and seemed radiant. Her golden hair reflected the sunlight like the surface of a mirror; atop that hair, the Rose Crown of Andor looked almost plain by comparison.
She often had much to do these days. He’d heard hushed reports of the weapons she was building, the ones she thought might be as powerful as captive damane. The bellfounders in Caemlyn had been working straight through the nights, from what he’d heard. Caemlyn was preparing for war, the city abuzz with activity. She didn’t often have time for him, though he was glad for what she could spare.
She smiled at him as he approached, then waved off her attendants for the moment. She walked to him and gave him a fond kiss on the cheek. “You look thoughtful.”
“A common malady of mine lately,” he said. “You look distracted.”
“A common malady of mine lately,” she said. “There is always too much to do and never enough of me to do it.
“If you need to—”
“No,” she said, taking his arm. “I need to speak to you. And I’ve been told that a walk around the gardens once a day will be good for my constitution.”
Gawyn smiled, breathing in the scents of roses and mud around the pond. The scents of life. He glanced up at the sky as they walked. “I can’t believe how much sunlight we’ve been seeing here. I’d nearly convinced myself that the perpetual gloom was something unnatural.”
“Oh, it probably is,” she said nonchalantly. “A week back the cloud cover in Andor broke around Caemlyn, but nowhere else.”
“But…how?”
She smiled. “Rand. Something he did. He was atop Dragonmount, I think. And then…”
Suddenly, the day seemed darker. “Al’Thor again,” Gawyn spat. “He follows me even here.”
“Even here?” she said with amusement. “I believe these gardens are where we first met him.”
Gawyn didn’t reply to that. He glanced northward, checking the sky in that direction. Ominous dark clouds hung out there. “He’s the father, isn’t he?”
“If he were,” Elayne said without missing a beat, “then it would be prudent to hide that fact, wouldn’t it? The children of the Dragon Reborn will be targets.”
Gawyn felt sick. He’d suspected it the moment he’d discovered the pregnancy. “Burn me,” he said. “Elayne, how could you? After what he did to our mother!”
“He did nothing to her,” Elayne said. “I can produce witness after witness that will confirm it, Gawyn. Mother vanished before Rand liberated Caemlyn.” There was a fond look in her eyes as she spoke of him. “Something is happening to him. I can feel it, feel him changing. Cleansing. He drives back the clouds and makes the roses bloom.”
Gawyn raised an eyebrow. She thought the roses bloomed because of al’Thor? Well, love could make a person think strange things, and when the man she spoke of was the Dragon Reborn, perhaps some irrationality was to be expected.
They approached the pond’s small dock. He could remember swimming there as a child, then getting an earful for it. Not from his mother, from Galad, though Gawyn’s mother had given him a stern, disappointed look. He’d never told anyone that he’d been swimming only because Elayne had pushed him in.
“You’re never going to forget that, are you?” Elayne asked.
“What?” he asked.
“You were thinking of the time you slipped into the pond during Mother’s meeting with House Farah.”
“Slipped? You pushed me!”
“I did nothing of the sort,” Elayne said primly. “You were showing off, balancing on the posts.”
“And you shook the dock.”
“I stepped onto it,” Elayne said. “Forcefully. I’m a vigorous person. I have a forceful stride.”
“A forceful—That’s a downright lie!”
“No, I’m merely stating the truth creatively. I’m Aes Sedai now. It’s a talent of ours. Now, are you going to row me on the pond, or not?”
“I…Row you? When did that come up?”
“Just now. Weren’t you listening?”
Gawyn shook a bemused head. “Fine.” Behind them, several Guardswomen took up posts. They were always near, often led by the tall woman who fancied herself an image of Birgitte from the stories. And maybe she did look like Birgitte at that—she went by the name, anyway, and was serving as Captain-General.
The Guards were joined by a growing group of attendants and messengers. The Last Battle approached, and Andor prepared—and, unfortunately, many of those preparations required Elayne’s direct attention. Though Gawyn had heard a curious story of Elayne having been carried up on the city wall in her bed a week or so back. So far, he hadn’t been able to pin her down on whether that was true or not.
He waved to Birgitte, who gave him a scowl as he led Elayne to the pond’s small rowboat. “I promise not to dump her in,” Gawyn called. Then, under his breath, “Though I might row ‘forcefully’ and upend us.”
“Oh, hush,” Elayne said, settling down. “Pondwater wouldn’t be good for the babies.”
“Speaking of which,” Gawyn said, pushing the boat off with his toe, then stepping into it. The vessel shook precariously until he sat down. “Aren’t you supposed to be walking for your ‘constitution’?”
“I’ll tell Melfane I needed to take the opportunity to reform my miscreant brother. You can get away with all kinds of things if you’re giving someone a proper scolding.”
“And is that what I’m getting? A scolding?”
“Not necessarily.” Her voice was somber. Gawyn shipped the oars and slipped them into the water. The pond wasn’t large, barely big enough to justify a boat, but there was a serenity about being upon the water, amid the pond-runners and the butterflies.
“Gawyn,” Elayne said, “why have you come to Caemlyn?”
“It’s my home,” he said. “Why shouldn’t I come here?”
“I worried about you during the siege. I could have used you in the fighting. But you stayed away.”
“I explained that, Elayne! I was embroiled in White Tower politics, not to mention the winter snows. It burns me that I couldn’t help, but those women had their fingers on me.”
“I’m one of ‘those women’ myself, you know.” She held up her hand, Great Serpent ring encircling her finger.
“You’re different,” Gawyn said. “Anyway, you’re right. I should have been here. I don’t know what other apologies you expect me to make, though.”
“I don’t expect any apologies,” Elayne said. “Oh, Gawyn, I wasn’t chastising you. While I certainly could have used you, we managed. I also worried about you getting caught between defending the Tower and protecting Egwene. It seems that worked out as well. So, I ask. Why have you come here now? Doesn’t Egwene need you?”
“Apparently not,” Gawyn said, backing the boat. A massive draping willow grew from the side of the pond here, hanging down branches like braids to dangle above the water. He raised his oars outside those branches and the boat stilled.
“Well,” Elayne said. “I won’t presume to pry into that—at least, not at the moment. You are always welcome here, Gawyn. I’d make you Captain-General if you asked, but I don’t think you want it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, you’ve spent the majority of your time here moping around these gardens.”
“I have not been moping. I’ve been pondering.”
“Ah, yes. I see you’ve learned to speak the truth creatively, too.”
He snorted softly.
“Gawyn, you haven’t been spending time with any of your friends or acquaintances from the palace. You haven’t been stepping into the role of a prince or Captain-General. Instead you merely…ponder.”
Gawyn looked out across the pond. “I don’t spend time with the others because they all want to know why I wasn’t here for the siege. They keep asking when I’m going to take my station here and lead your armies.”
“It’s all right, Gawyn. You don’t have to be Captain-General, and I can survive with my First Prince of the Sword absent, if I must. Though I’ll admit, Birgitte is rather upset with you for not becoming Captain-General.”
“Is that the reason for the glares?”
“Yes. But she will manage; she’s actually good at the job. And if there’s anyone I’d want you protecting, it would be Egwene. She deserves you.”
“And what if I’ve decided I don’t want her?”
Elayne reached forward, resting her hand on his arm. Her face—framed in golden hair, topped by that matching crown—looked concerned. “Oh, Gawyn. What has happened to you?”
He shook his head. “Bryne thinks I was too accustomed to succeeding, and didn’t know how to react when things started to upend on me.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think it’s been good for me to be here,” Gawyn said, taking a deep breath. Some women were walking along the path around the pond, led by a woman with bright red hair that was streaked with white. Dimana was some kind of failed student of the White Tower. Gawyn wasn’t quite certain about the nature of the Kin and their relationship with Elayne.
“Being here,” he said, “reminded me of my life before. It’s been particularly liberating to be free of Aes Sedai. For a time, I was sure that I needed to be with Egwene. When I left the Younglings to ride to her, it felt like the best choice I’d ever made. And yet, she seems to have moved beyond needing me. She’s so concerned with being strong, with being the Amyrlin, that she doesn’t have room for anyone who won’t bow to her every whim.”
“I doubt that it’s as bad as you say, Gawyn. Egwene…well, she has to put forward a strong front. Because of her youth, and the way she was raised. But she’s not arrogant. No more so than is necessary.”
Elayne dipped her fingers in the water, startling a goldenback fish. “I’ve felt the way she must be feeling. You say she wants someone to bow and scrape for her, but what I’d bet she really wants—what she really needs—is someone she can trust completely. Someone she can give tasks, then not worry about how they will be handled. She has enormous resources. Wealth, troops, fortifications, servants. But there’s only one of her, and so if everything requires her attention directly, she might as well have no resources at all.”
“I…”
“You say you love her,” Elayne said. “You’ve told me you’re devoted to her, that you’d die for her. Well, Egwene has armies full of those kinds of people, as do I. What is truly unique is someone who does what I tell them. Better, someone who does what they know I’d tell them, if I had the chance.”