Summary: Taking Daes Dae'mar with mother's milk gave Moiraine some trust issues. Set some time around book 14.

Tags: backstory, discussion, food, family, trauma reaction, headcanons

Warnings: Dysfunction around food, abuse, fratricide.


"I have the rest of those reports, my dear." Thom said.

Moiraine looked up. She was seated in the center of their tent, at a desk. Thom was consistently amazed that no matter how temporary the lodgings or dire the situation, his wife always seemed to find writing furniture. She had papers in front of her, but was holding a spoon rather than a pen.

The meal Thom had brought her an hour ago seemed untouched. He opened his mouth to point that out, but Moiraine spoke first.

"Thom Gaidin, I have a question to ask you."

"Alright."

"If you make me bargain for this answer, it will be just. I have done as much to you." She hesitated.

"Well, out with it, woman." He didn't like hesitation on Moiraine. Made him uneasy.

"Do you know which of my uncles assasinated my father?"

He did. "Aldecain."

The bond felt odd and untethered. Moiraine absorbed the information for a moment. Thom wondered if she had known what she had presupposed, or just guessed.

"How?" The Aes Sedai finally said, voice collected.

"Arsenic, over a period of years."

"While I trained at the tower."

"I doubt very much you could have..."

She gave him a frigid look.

"Yes."

Moiraine nodded, all disconnect and chill. She stirred the uneaten food in front of her, soup and stew with bread. "Thank you, Thom."

"Any time." Thom said and then on impulse added. "That would explain your thing with food."

Moiraine blinked.

"If you're afraid of being poisoned." Thom explained. "Or you are when you're pushed to breaking. You stop eating sometimes. There were points on the North Road that Lan practically had to feed you like a bird."

"You are going to explain that my fear is irrational." Moiraine said bitterly, "Lan always did."

"You're going to cite some bloodcurdling examples of why it's not." Thom retorted "I'm sure you can. No Damodred lives to adulthood without seeing that sort of thing, especially not in Lamon's Sun Palace. And a Aes Sedai gets at least acquainted with it too."

Moiraine shrugged.

"Except I'm getting more fear when I bring you the food than when anyone else does. Suspect Lan did too. It's a Warder thing."

"A Warder thing." Moiraine said quietly. "A friend thing."

"A family thing?" Thom guessed.

She nodded. "Yes."

"You don't like being reminded that you trust people." Thom observed. "In fact, it well-near makes you sick."

"You could say that." Moiraine rolled a piece of bread in her hands, turning it to crumbs. "I am actually good at detecting when a stranger wants to poison me. I think I have demonstrated that, at least."

"Most likely." Thom conceded.

"It does not always happen you know. Even for stress, quite extraordinary stress. I am sometimes fine, often fine. Why when I was younger, in the tower, I became hungry as easily as falling off a boat." She heard her own simile, made the same connection Thom had just made and winced.

Well that there was a comparison he didn't need and couldn't win. "The first escape is always the one that feels real isn't it?" He said gently, "And that hurts the worst when it isn't."

"What I meant to convey is," Moiraine said, "This effect is unreliable. I do not know why it is happening right now with you, but there is no need for the guilt Thom."

Right, the bond. He was still getting used to this.

"I do actually know you would not poison me." Moiraine insisted sternly. "The Aeflinn and Eeflinn did not completely ruin my wits."

"Feelings aren't thoughts."

"They are not very cooperative either." Moiraine noted. Her feelings were frustrated.

"I suspect it doesn't help that you know I've played the Great Game. Or that you know I've assassinated people before, including your brother."

"Half-brother."

"And it doesn't soothe you at all to recall that I am bound to you and literally cannot kill you without killing myself."

"Not really, no. "

"May I ask why?"

"Not all poison kills immediately."

"And not all poison comes in food and drink." Thom said.

Moiraine nodded. "Some of it comes in what we do or do not do, say or do not say."

"Did Lan know this was about your family."

Moiraine shook her head. "It only just occurred to me when you suggested so. A loss of appetite under stress is common enough, as is paranoia, and I am almost always under stress."

"And Lan?"

"It bothered him, but he did nothing so long as I ate, whatever I felt. If I did not eat, then he made a battle of it, but that was no less than was nessesary."

"Do you expect me to be like Lan in this?"

She shrugged.

"This fear of yours bothers me also." Thom said.

Moiraine nodded.

"But I understand how you came by it. In our circles, it might be more irrational to expect anything else." Thom took the spoon from her hand and moved it to his mouth. He broke off a piece of bread and dipped it in the stew and swallowed that as well. Gone cold and congealed but otherwise fine. "I know you will still be noticing the taste and texture of this too much, and that it will still be unpleasant and nauseating. But hopefully that helps."

He got up.

"Thom." Moiraine said suddenly. "On the North Road I had an easier time with it when I ate as you performed."

He turned around.

She added. "I thought you noticed that. I thought that was why you started performing so reliably at that same time, evenings."

It was at that, though at the time it has been practical. If Moiraine didn't eat at least once a day she would pass out and they'd all awaken in a cookpot. Besides, a little increased morale had been good for everyone. The affection came later. Not much later, but still.

"Would you like to hear a story, my wife?" Thom asked.

Moiraine nodded and he shifted through his mental library for the right one. Something with mythical creatures. Like parents who lived to the end of the tale and siblings who loved each other.