ways_infirmary | (no subject)

(no subject)

He can't go back to the ship -- Inara, Simon, everyone -- needing repair like he does.

Mal tells himself that he can't go back because there's better equipment for setting things right in Milliways anyway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She had been descending the stairs to the bar when she had seen him for the second time this evening -- only now, Mal appears decidedly the worse for wear.

Moiraine frowns as she watches him disappear into the infirmary, and then sets out after him.

Mal hears footsteps behind him and for a split-second, Mal jumps.

Turning: "Oh. Wei. I thought you were -- someone else."

"I am as you see me," the Aes Sedai returns, calmly. Dark eyes are thoughtful and somehow assessing as she considers him.

"Although you yourself look different from how you were earlier."

"I don't have my shiny hat anymore."

Sigh. "Can you help me? I don't want the crew to know what happened."

Her eyebrows rise at this, but she inclines her head in confirmation.

"I believe that I should be able to do so, yes. If you will sit, I shall do what I can to assist you."

"Xiexie."

It's an all-too-familiar examination table that Mal hoists himself up on.

"I mean -- I stopped the bleeding, but definitely feels like my face got rearranged, and I should probably stop talking, shouldn't I."

"It might make matters more simple if you were to do so for a moment, at least," Moiraine murmurs, gliding to stand immediately in front of him.

She lifts her hands to his face, setting her fingers gently on his cheekbones and allowing her thumbs to rest on his jaw. A faint golden aura appears around her as she tells him,

"Remain as still as you can. This will not take long, I do not think."

Bright silver light flashes, followed by a band of woven blue and white that pours into him.

Mal remembers how this works.

It's less intense, this time -- something Mal is grateful for, meaning that there must be less to fix -- but it's a comfort, for this to be as familiar as it is.

Only after Mal's sure Moiraine has quite finished with him does he attempt to touch the bridge of his nose.

"It is there, I assure you," she says, a little dryly.

"It was touch-and-go there for a spell, got to admit."

Breathing in through said still-there nose is now an appreciated and savored event.

"Got into a difference of opinion with certain folk."

"Is it so?"

Moiraine tilts her head, studying him.

"I should be interested to hear."

"Crowley, Gabriel, about Raguel. Still interested in hearin' things?"

Without really waiting for a reply, Mal recounts going to Londinium, and Raguel following.

"I had told him because I thought it was within his power to change."

She listens to all of it with close attention, dark eyes intent upon his face.

A moment of silence passes, then, before she murmurs,

"I do not disagree with you, as it happens."

"Then it looks like you and me are in the minority on that one, Moiraine."

A short smile. "Nice to have someone agree with me."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only