The Fires of Heaven
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Elaida: Fain, I am looking for a new advisor. Tell me your qualifications.
Fain: Well, I am filthy, insane, and evil.
Elaida: You’re hired. Advise me.
Fain: You must become crazier. Look how well it’s done for me.
Elaida: Good advice.
Siuan: I used to control the White Tower. Now I hide in barns. I agree to work for you. I must run away. And I suddenly love you.
Rand: I thought you were an honorary Aiel.
Egwene: I’m both. It’s called “Aiel Sedai.” It’s when you’re arrogant enough for two cultures.
Elayne: I’m wearing a dark blue silk dress with a pattern of black lace. It has actual thread-of-gold woven into the bodice, telling the story of my childhood, including the part when I skinned my knee trying to climb a leatherleaf tree in Master Hanson’s orchard. It shows generous cleavage.
Nynaeve: I miss good, stout Two Rivers woolens.
Elayne: Maybe you could by some wool dresses.
Nynaeve: I’m far too important for that, according to my estimation of myself. Since we’re keeping only the bare essentials on our mission to save the world, how many dresses have we packed in our wagon?
Elayne: Five hundred and eighty-four.
Rhuarc: That would violate ji’e’toh.
Rand: ji’e’toh restricts you from stopping madmen warlords?
Rhuarc: Yes. The rule is madmen warlords can try to kill you, and everyone near you, and everyone else who isn’t near you, and everyone they know, and everyone they thought was looking at them funny.
Rand: What does ji’e’toh let me do?
Rhuarc: You can mutter under your breath.
Rand: Shaido dogs.
Rhuarc: Now you’re getting it.
Sorilea: I will give you the Offer Dagger, which you will use to stab him in the shoulder as a sign of your love.
Melaine: I hope he will club me with the Acceptance Club, which will show his acceptance of my offer.
Sorilea: Then you will whip him with the Joy Whip, which will show your joy,
Melaine: And he will pelt me with the Honeymoon Pebbles.
Sorilea: And eventually, you will attack him with the Childbirth Spear.
Melaine: Then we will all beat ourselves with the Moron Bat.
Nynaeve: How dare you insult us! We aren’t fools!
Ronde Macura: Drink this, fools.
Nynaeve: Ah, nice, delicious fool tea.
Nynaeve: I didn’t know Daughter-Heirs knew how to walk highwires.
Elayne: It’s an old tradition, dating back to when Andor was founded by a trapeze artist.
Perrin: Are you sure we need such a huge mansion?
Faile: Quiet. You aren’t even in this book.
Rand: Uh, thanks for the sword.
Aviendha: Men are so complicated.
Rand: What was that last part?
Moiraine: Uh, the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. In Cairhien.
Elayne: Yes, when I think of Rand, I want to wear low-cut dresses.
Nynaeve: Yes, men make women want to get naked.
Elayne: Yes, that’s how women show love. We get naked and walk around.
Nynaeve: When I get married, I’m throwing away all of my clothes, and just wearing my braid.
Nynaeve: We have bonded. You are my best friend.
Elayne: You are my best friend. You and Egwene, and Aviendha, and Min. You are all my best friend.
Elayne: You’re crowding me in this little wagon.
Nynaeve: I hate you.
Elayne: I hate you.
Nynaeve: I hate you and Lan, and Thom, and Juilin, and Valan Luca, and that man selling apples that leered at me the other day. You are all my worst enemies.
Elayne: I hate you and Rand and my mother, and Galad, and that pretty boy in Tanchico who got me drunk. You are all my worst enemies.
Nynaeve: I’m such a coward. I love you like a sister.
Elayne: You are not a coward. You are brave. I love you like a sister. You and Egwene, and Aviendha, and Min. You are all my sisters. And that one girl who gave me an extra necklace. She is my sister also. And Anaiya Sedai. She is very nice, like a sister. And my brother Gawyn. He is also my sister.
Nynaeve: Can I still have the job of braidpuller?
Egwene: Until I get bored.
Weiramon: Excellent plan, my liege. Shall I charge at the opposing army?
Rand: No. That’s a corn field.
Rand: Maybe you don’t have to kill yourself.
Aviendha: No, my honor demands it.
Rand: That seems silly.
Aviendha: You are a wetlander, you wouldn’t understand. When Aiel love someone, our honor demands we run through blizzards naked.
Rand: What does your honor demand if you only have a small crush on someone?
Aviendha: Then you wear a shift and sit in ice.
Rand: Perhaps you should use the Moron Bat.
Aviendha: Yes, thank you.
Rand: I should simply tell you to go away, but I’d rather terrify you.
Selande: That forces me to become a fake Aiel battle leader.
Melindra: Nothing. Go Light. Now look over there.
Mat: Okay. Hey, no trying to kill me!
Melindra: Damn. Go Dark.
Mat: Hm. Something she said sounded odd. I must piece it together.
Rand: I cannot hurt a woman. So I must laugh.
Moiraine: While he’s distracting her with his laughing, I will save the day.
Rand: All my laughing at nothing finally paid off.
Rand: That’s funny, because I’ve never once seen any of you cry.
Sulin: Sure we do. I stubbed my toe. Boo-hoo.
Rand: You’re faking it. Your culture sounds a lot like you’re just making it up as you go along.
Sulin: How dare you. You insult us like a Wizard of Oz!
Rand: Now you’re just copying other stories!
Sulin: Silence, Jedi.
Rand: Yes, rumors are never wrong. I once heard a rumor that a fishkeeper in Aringill could fit five apples in his mouth.
Dobraine: Must be true; it’s a rumor.
Rand: To the Skimming Mobile!
Dobraine: All that Skimming would have been nice when my city was in trouble.
Rand: What’s that?
Dobraine: Nothing. Skim away. Save Caemlyn. I’ll just return to the pile of ashes that was once my house.
Rahvin: Damn. I was hoping everyone thought I was simple evil Lord Gaebril, and not evil Forsaken Rahvin.
Rhuarc: Oh. Sorry. Sometimes I forget to wear pants.