Entry tags:
Spooktober 2023, Day 9/31. WOT Ficlet: (softly, softly) from the shadows
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Title: (softly, softly) from the shadows
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kat_lair
Fandom: Wheel of Time
Charactes: Moghedien
Tags: Ficlet, Episode Related
Rating: G
Word count: 155
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Summary: She wakes and the world is new but the faces around her are the same old, same old.
Author notes: Spooktober 2023, Day 9/31. Prompt/theme: spider. This is a little missing scene from the season 2 finale, and the title of course comes directly from its final scene.
(softly, softly) from the shadows on AO3
She wakes and the world is new but the faces around her are the same old, same old.
“Oh,” says, clawing out of her cocoon. “It’s you. And you and you and you.”
The others glance at her, varying levels of disdain and ill-concealed unease. Same old, same old. She giggles softly to herself.
Ishamael makes a speech. That hasn’t changed. Moghedien doesn’t bother listening. That hasn’t either.
Everyone leaves, which is also familiar, good. Spiders hunt alone, trap alone, eat alone.
The Power comes back in a familiar rush, gossamer soft strands settling around her like a web, ready to harden into razor sharpness at the flick of a finger, curl of a lip. In the corner of her eye, in the shadows, Tel’aran’rhiod waits for her to come home.
Soon.
First, there’s a message that needs to be delivered. A warning.
Not everything is going to be the same as it was before.
***
Title: (softly, softly) from the shadows
Author:
kat_lair Fandom: Wheel of Time
Charactes: Moghedien
Tags: Ficlet, Episode Related
Rating: G
Word count: 155
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Summary: She wakes and the world is new but the faces around her are the same old, same old.
Author notes: Spooktober 2023, Day 9/31. Prompt/theme: spider. This is a little missing scene from the season 2 finale, and the title of course comes directly from its final scene.
(softly, softly) from the shadows on AO3
She wakes and the world is new but the faces around her are the same old, same old.
“Oh,” says, clawing out of her cocoon. “It’s you. And you and you and you.”
The others glance at her, varying levels of disdain and ill-concealed unease. Same old, same old. She giggles softly to herself.
Ishamael makes a speech. That hasn’t changed. Moghedien doesn’t bother listening. That hasn’t either.
Everyone leaves, which is also familiar, good. Spiders hunt alone, trap alone, eat alone.
The Power comes back in a familiar rush, gossamer soft strands settling around her like a web, ready to harden into razor sharpness at the flick of a finger, curl of a lip. In the corner of her eye, in the shadows, Tel’aran’rhiod waits for her to come home.
Soon.
First, there’s a message that needs to be delivered. A warning.
Not everything is going to be the same as it was before.
***
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