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Moiraine was a novice the first time she felt the urge to hold someone’s hand — or to have any physical contact at all.
The first time she and Siuan held hands was also the first time they slept together. Facing each other. Hand in hand.
It wasn't a good day, they were caught doing another prank and then sent to the mistress of novices.
Neither of them wanted to be alone, so Siuan proposed they sleep together. It will ease the pain. She told her.
She saw Siuan's hands anxiously playing with a knot in her hand, knew she felt guilty they were caught, and there was this entirely new urge of holding her hand, to bring her comfort.
To let her know, that even knowing each other for so little time, Moiraine would follow her to the end of the world if she asked, no matter the consequences.
She felt like her heart was going to jump right out of her chest, of course, she didn’t realize she was falling for the other girl at the time, friends held hands all the time right?
She remembers that night vividly. They talked, shared stories of their pasts — the story of the knots, how Siuan promised her papa she would train them everyday —, shared dreams for the future — silly fantasies about bonding beautiful warders and marrying them —, made promises — like what one owned belonged to the other as well.
Moiraine fell asleep studying every detail of Siuan's beautiful and clever fingers, and how her own soft hand belonged with Siuan's calloused one.
Soft dreams of Siuan teaching her how to fish and how to tie a proper knot, Siuan holding her hand and smiling at her.
She remembers waking up holding the tairen woman's hand in a tight grip. As if afraid Siuan would let go.
Moiraine learns later that she wouldn't, not if she could help it.
On their last accepted years, they often trained for the test to the shawl and Siuan was getting better and better at the art of distracting Moiraine.
With lips on her ear, hands on the collar of her dress, slowly going up to touch a sensitive spot on her neck. She easily made Moiraine squeak, touching her ticklish spots.
But two could play that game. Even if it was rare, the times Siuan lost focus while training.
Moiraine's hands softly tracing her tattoos was one of those times. But Siuan was good at keeping going even then, she just got to the 55th weave when she felt her fingers on her skin.
She managed sixty weaves before she felt said hands moving to her legs, going up while she started whispering filthy things in her year — Siuan sometimes wondered if she and Alanna were a bad influence to the once shy, cairhienin girl.
She didn't drop saidar, determined to not let Moiraine win. Sixty-five weaves. Sixty-eight.
"Moiraine" she moaned as her hands — not as smooth as they once were, but still soft, and experienced.
Knowing just where to touch to make her plead. By now, they knew each other's bodies way too well. The weaves were forgotten at seventy-two, when Siuan was too far gone to keep going, Moiraine’s right hand softly circling her clit, the other touching her breasts.
"Bloody fish guts, if I fail the test I'm blaming it on you" she felt Moiraine smile at her neck.
They could keep training tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to take every drop of pleasure those hands could give her.
It's the first thing Moiraine notices when she gets to the hut. She already feels the urge to smile when she sees those restless, skilled hands tying up knots. Knows Siuan usually does that to keep her hands busy, and knows she's been waiting .
The wait is over though. And it's overwhelming to finally feel Siuan's hands on her skin after two years, the sensation similar to the tingle they get when the other is channeling.
The kisses dazzle her just as much as the hands on her neck, and when Siuan drops to her knees, the work of her fingers makes her legs shake and her whole body waves with pleasure.
Siuan guides her through it. She trusts those hands to guide her anywhere, trust they still know their way through her body — and oh how they do. Not one of their fingers could ever forget how to touch the other, even if they wanted to.
Their hands hold memories of each other, and it's a feeling that never goes away, like the touch of her lover marked her skin from the beginning, as clear as her tattoos. While looking into her eyes she knows Siuan feels the same.
She trusts those hands to lure her to sleep later and finally has some good night sleep for a change.
Take what you want and pay for it. If only she could have what she wanted and let the world burn.
She remembers Moiraine's hands, warm and comforting this morning, and wishes they could have more time to say goodbye. Moiraine always said that long goodbyes turned to tears, and they couldn't afford that now. But she still wishes they could have had that early, because there's nothing ideal about this situation.
Right now, in the hall, in front of her sisters, she sees Moiraine's hand tremble when they close around the oath rod, and all the comfort they can offer each other is a brush of fingers. The touch so subtly, so gently no one else in the room notices, Siuan shifts her grip so her finger barely grazes Moiraine's.
It will have to be enough.
She doesn't react, not even when Moiraine quietly changes the oath to swear fealty to her and not the Amyrlin Seat. She wonders if in a different life, this would be their vows instead of a goodbye.
For the first time, Moiraine breaks eye contact, glancing at the floor and taking a shaky breath. Siuan knows she's struggling to keep her voice steady when she adds, "strong as the tides" with a tremulous smile.
She gives Moiraine’s finger a last touch and suddenly remembers every time their fingers brushed accidentally when they were novices, how she yearned to hold her hands then and how bad she yearns to hold them now as Moiraine gets up and turns her back to her.
And seeing her leave for what might be the last time, she longs for a life where they walk hand in hand on the street and fall asleep together everyday, no concerns of dragons or thrones.
Siuan thinks about how the last physical touch they shared was with their hands, and she feels blessed, for knowing Moiraine's hands from when they were soft, fit for a lady that grew up at the sun palace, and for seeing them change as years went by, the hands of the woman she loves are now fit for a fighter, a traveler who searched the whole world in the name of their mission and will keep doing so till her dying day. She's proud of those hands.
Prays she'll be able to hold them again.
Maybe one day. In this life or the next.
She dreams of Moiraine that night. Of holding hands when they were novices, Moiraine blushing, as she pushed Siuan closer as they shared their first kiss.
Of them dancing hand in hand after they both passed their test to become aes sedai and later when they entered the hall of the tower hand in hand to swear the oath.
Of Moiraine’s hand helping to buttom up her dress (and the same hands desperately taking her dress off later).
Moiraine weaving at her as they said goodbye, the other hand firm on Arrow’s rein as she rode with her new warder to find the dragon reborn.
Moiraine’s hands in fists as she spoke of her quest, frustration written all over her face, “Always the pufferfish” she said, making the other woman relax, leading to Moiraine’s hand around her breast, fingers inside her, bringing her pleasure after many months apart.
Moiraine’s hands spreaded across the floor as she kneels before her.
Moiraine’s hands caressing her tattoos.
Moiraine’s hand shaking as she takes the oath rod.
Moiraine’s hands reaching for her as some strange force pulled them away from each other.
Moiraine, lost, looking at her hands that couldn’t touch the source anymore.
And finally, her own hands, holding Moiraine’s body as she dies.
She wakes up sweating, trying to catch her breath. Hands automatically looking for something — someone — and finding her bedside empty, as it has been for two years. And as it might stay for a really long time now. Maybe forever.