Also, thanks again to everyone who voted and added suggestions in tags those many moons ago. They were fantastic! I really wanted to draw them ALL but I lack time, space and capacity. 🥺
Season 3 can't come soon enough!
(the letter says UR GAY in 5 paragraphs, in the wot-ty language, of course)
P.S. I forgot the Something Else poll option so thank you for
“You Actually Tried to Kill Me” - Lan Mandragoran x Aes Sedai!Reader (Platonic Moiraine)
Summary: After years of being presumed dead, you return broken and hunted. Lan Mandragoran and Moiraine Sedai, figures from your past, find you. Together, they offer a bond—one that could keep you alive but requires you to trust again. In a world of loss and danger, you’re faced with a choice: to remain broken or to allow yourself to heal, because this time, you’re not alone.
________
The first time Lan Mandragoran saw you, it wasn’t in the glow of the White Tower or in the shadowed halls of Tar Valon. It was here—half-buried in the wild, unrecognizable and feral, blood and dirt staining your once-pristine green shawl. You emerged from the trees like a ghost called back to haunt the world.
Lan barely had time to draw breath before the air split.
A whip of pure Air sliced through the clearing, aimed for his throat.
His instincts were the only thing that saved him. He twisted hard, boots biting into the mud as the weave grazed his shoulder, tearing through fabric and skin alike. Warm blood seeped down his arm before he even registered the pain.
The world stilled.
Lan stared at you—your face gaunt, cheeks hollowed from months, maybe years, without comfort. Your eyes were wide, wild, pupils blown so wide there was barely any color left. You stood like a cornered animal, one hand trembling with the aftershock of the weave, the other clenched so tight he could see blood streaking from where your nails bit into flesh.
“Oh,” he rasped, blinking down at the blood staining his sleeve. “You actually tried to kill me.”
Your lip curled in a snarl. “You moved.”
That startled a bitter laugh from his throat, rough and humorless. “You’re angry I survived?”
The sound of fabric shifting drew both your attention. Moiraine had gone pale as paper, lips parted. Her voice cracked as she breathed your name like a prayer, like she couldn’t believe you were real.
“(Y/N)? Light, it can’t—” She stepped forward, cautious but desperate, arms half-reaching for you. “It’s me. Moiraine.”
At first, there was nothing. You didn’t move. Didn’t blink. You were still staring at Lan, chest heaving like you’d sprinted miles to get here.
Then, recognition flickered. A momentary spark. “Moiraine?” your voice croaked, choked and raw like you hadn’t used it in days.
“Yes,” she whispered, nodding. “It’s me. You’re safe. You—” Her voice broke. “We thought you were dead.”
Your knees buckled before Lan could even react. The rage and survival drained from your face all at once, leaving only something hollowed out. A shell. You crumpled like your body had finally gotten the message your mind refused to hear—you weren’t fighting anymore. You’d lost.
Lan was beside you before Moiraine moved. He didn’t think, didn’t weigh his choices. He caught you as you fell, his arms wrapping around your thin frame, and even through the dirt and blood and ruined silk, you smelled like the Tower. Like home.
But your skin was cold. Too cold.
“Help me,” he muttered, not even looking at Moiraine. “She’s burning up.”
⸻
It took time to find camp—too much time. You barely stirred as they laid you down by the fire, your head lolling weakly as Moiraine peeled away layers of stained fabric to get to your wounds.
Lan crouched nearby, silent. Watching.
Old wounds, some scabbed, some still weeping. Bite marks. Blade slices. Burns that spoke of another channeler’s work. Not clean kills—these had been messages. Whoever hunted you had wanted you to suffer.
“You were gone two years,” Moiraine whispered, tears spilling silent down her cheeks. “Two years, and not a word.”
You flinched. Even unconscious, the sound of grief reached you. “They took… everyone,” you rasped. “My Warders… All gone. I stayed hidden. I couldn’t—” Your voice caught, broke.
Lan stared into the fire, jaw clenched until his teeth ached. He knew what it was to bury a bondmate. To survive past the point where survival felt like anything other than punishment.
“She needs healing,” he said tightly.
“I can only do so much,” Moiraine replied. “Not if she keeps fighting it.”
As if hearing them, you stirred weakly. “Don’t waste it,” you whispered. “Not on me.”
Lan growled low. “You tried to kill me. I decide if you’re worth the trouble.”
Something like the ghost of a smile tugged at your mouth. “That’s fair.”
_
The fire cracked low, the hour stretching between night and dawn. You sat stiff in the quiet, staring at the flames as if willing them to offer answers. They didn’t. The shadows just danced across the hollow of your cheeks and the deep bruising under your eyes.
Lan didn’t sleep. You didn’t expect him to. He’d kept his distance most of the night, but now—without Moiraine’s sharp gaze to mind—he shifted. Closer. Not enough to startle you, but enough to be noticed.
“I shouldn’t have drawn on the Power,” you rasped. Your voice was raw, throat bruised from more than exhaustion. “That first moment. When I saw you.”
Lan stayed still for a beat, then answered in his quiet, rough way, “It wasn’t unexpected.”
You huffed a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “I meant to kill you.”
“I noticed,” he deadpanned.
Silence stretched. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but weighty.
Finally, you spoke again, “You’re different than I expected.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re… softer.”
That earned you a look. Flat. Almost amused. “Don’t let the silence fool you.”
You snorted, and immediately winced at the strain in your ribs. “No, I mean… you watch people like you’re waiting for them to break.”
Lan didn’t deny it. “I’ve seen it happen.”
The fire cracked again.
“Do you know what it’s like,” you whispered, “to feel it happen? To feel every thread snap? Not all at once. Slowly. Every hour, something else lost.”
“I do,” he said simply. “I lost a kingdom.”
You turned then, really looked at him. The faintest tilt of your head, eyes narrowing as if seeing him for the first time.
“I remember,” you murmured. “You were a boy then. I heard Moiraine speak of you. A king without a crown.”
Lan’s throat worked. He said nothing.
“It doesn’t feel noble, does it?” you added bitterly. “Living past what you love.”
“No.” His jaw tensed. “It doesn’t.”
The wind shifted. Your shoulders sagged under the weight of memory, the body’s instinct to collapse where the mind still resisted.
“Your Warders,” Lan asked carefully. “What were their names?”
Your mouth trembled. “I don’t—” You stopped. Forced it out. “Damek. Solin. Bren.”
Lan nodded slowly, memorizing each one.
You swallowed hard. “They don’t deserve to be forgotten.”
“They won’t,” Lan promised, voice steady as the mountain.
The fire burned low, and you stared into it like you could climb into the embers.
⸻
Moiraine woke first, eyes red-rimmed but sharp. She took one look at you—awake but pale—and then at Lan, who gave the smallest shake of his head. No trouble. No running.
You ate what passed for breakfast, the three of you silent, save the wind in the trees. But the air had changed. Something settled overnight—not trust, but the earliest shape of it.
“I should leave,” you said finally, after the meal. Voice rough, but steadier. “I’ll draw attention.”
Moiraine’s lips thinned. “You’re not leaving.”
You gave her a tired look. “I can’t stay.”
“You can.” Moiraine straightened. “You will.”
Lan said nothing. Watching. Waiting.
Moiraine sighed, softer this time. “You’re not strong enough to run.”
“That’s never stopped me.”
“It will now.”
Lan finally spoke, voice rough as gravel. “You won’t last another week.”
I cannot with this fandom anymore. You have no empathy and no sense of kinship either.
I'm sick of seeing so many people minimizing the actual scale of Siuan's horrible treatment just because she wasn't their bias.
Siuan's Stilling was so painful that she literally fainted on the spot.(and they just had to make it more painful by shooting arrows at her, because why not make the lady who's already getting mauled sufffer more I guess?)
Now is a good time to remember that getting Stilled feels like rape to Aes sedai by the way. And she had to watch women that had grown up with her actively taking part in her violation and betrayal before blacking out.
As if it weren't bad enough she was stripped, put in rags that were little more than underwear(for the time period) and tortured as soon as she came to. For fucking hours.
THEN she was finally dragged from her cell all the way back to the hall for the final time. Bloody, battered,filthy, publicly humiliated for all to see, and made to kneel before her main abuser since she was a girl.
Helplessly witnessing her own downfall as not one of those women tried to put a stop to what was happening. Or at the very least treat her like an actual human being in her last moments.
And some of y'all will still be out here daring to open your mouth holes, question our anger and come up with stuff like: "That was a great ending for Siuan☝🏻🤓" "she hasn't suffered that much or that long anyway" or "Alanna and Moiraine or Egwene had it worse".
And my favorite one yet:"That was a very humane and swift death!"
