EPISODE 1: LAN DISCUSSES BATTLE PLANS WITH THE KIN

Lan approached a door in a dimly lit hall on the west end of the Sun Palace in Cairhien. As he reached for the doorknob, he noticed a sign at eye level, attached to the door with masking tape. In a crude, childish hand, the words "NO BOYZ ALLOWED" were written in magic marker. Ignoring it, he entered the room.

Three women gathered around a wide table in the center of the room, looking at an unfolded map with red and green markers placed all about. From the door, it was hard to make out much detail. All three of them looked up as he entered, and none of them looked happy to see him.

The oldest of the three women, Alise, laid into him before either of the other two could open their mouths. "Who told you you could come in here? Didn't you read the sign?"

Lan ignored her completely unwarranted hostility, apparently the only way in which Alise was able to interact with other human beings, and nodded at the map. "Looks like you're planning a battle," he said. "I can help you out if you want. I like battles."

All three women glared at Lan as if he had said something completely idiotic, which he hadn't, at all. His huge, ridiculous frame filled the doorway, and he carried a cartoonishly massive sword on his back, which certainly gave the impression that he might know a thing or two about battles, but none of this seemed to connect for Alise, who carried herself with a demeanor of unnecessary indignance at all times.

"You'll keep your fool mouth shut is what you'll do!" Alise snapped, for no apparent reason. "This is women's business in here, and I don't need any idiot man sticking his big, dumb, masculine nose in it." Lan folded his arms, not responding.

One of the other two women in the room, Lan's wife, Nynaeve, looked a little taken aback. "Alise, he IS the last king of the Malkieri, an ancient line of warrior kings dating back to the dawn of civilization or something. I suppose we could hear him out at least."

Alise somehow managed to make her awful face look even more angry, which had seemed impossible only moments ago. She took a step toward Lan, jabbing a finger in his direction. "I'm not taking advice from a man if he's president of the world, even if every word of that advice is obviously smarter on its face than any five consecutive words that have ever come out of my mouth!"

"But Alise," Nynaeve started to say.

Alise rounded on her. "And you! I don't care if you WERE trained by an ancient society of female wizards and judged to be one of the most talented among them! I'll not have some young woman like you tell me anything at all, even if it's obvious that I'm a know-nothing country bumpkin who only gets respect by throwing her weight around and intentionally being the most annoying person in the room. Now the both of you had better submit to my irritating, aggressive, ignorant, unearned authority right now before I decide to vaguely punish you off page!"

Lan put his finger in the air, calling attention back to himself. He opened his mouth but didn't quite have time to get a word in. Alise took another step toward him and got very close to his face. She tried to look even more angry, but there really wasn't any way to, so she just sort of huffed and kind of bulged her eyes, and she put her finger right into Lan's chest. "Sit down, you", she said. "Men like you always think they know everything."

"I don't think…" Lan started.

"That's right, you don't," Alise said, cutting him off. "You think just because you're the last of a great line of kings, and that you've planned and fought in countless battles over a series of wars, and you've organized armies and studied military tactics, and you've watched all of your friends die in battle and your country fall to ruins, you think you're just going to walk in here and tell us women how to do things? Huh? Is that what you think?"

"I…" Lan started to say.

"We don't need a man's input. I know everything I need to already, because I grew up in the country and supervised dozens of basket weavers, turnip farmers, and butter churners. And I am automatically in charge here because I am older and louder than you could ever possibly dream of, and that's what counts for power in this room!" She stood down from his face and gestured at him, waving him away. "Your wife obviously needs to teach you your place a little more often."

Expressionlessly, and without waiting for her to catch her breath after her dumb tirade, Lan drew his sword and plunged it directly through Alise's heart. She fell to the floor, dead, still with that ridiculous look on her face. Lan said nothing and just stood there, looking down at her.

Nynaeve gasped, grabbing her braid with both hands and pulling on it. Her instinct told her to immediately become angry with Lan, even though Alise had clearly deserved that, but then again, he had acted on his own instinct, and even if he had done exactly what she wanted him to, it was necessary to call him out and embarrass him in front of everyone. Otherwise, he might get dangerous ideas in his head like thinking he was allowed to shave or go to the bathroom without asking for her explicit permission, and she couldn't have that.

"Lan," she said, as coldly as she could manage while still wilting in her lady parts over watching him violently end that terrible woman, "You will return to our chambers now. The women still have important matters to discuss. I will deal with your… inappropriate actions when I return." She sniffed and pulled on her braid so hard that it seemed she might tear the thing right out of her head.

Lan hesitated for a moment for dramatic tension, then immediately swung his sword at Nyneave's throat and took her head clean off at her shoulders. He watched with no expression on his face as her head fell to the floor. Her left hand went with it, still clutching that stupid braid.

Reanne, the last woman in the room, moved to stand next to Lan, looking down at the two corpses. "Truly, she died as she lived," she said. "I honestly don't understand why you married her in the first place." Lan said nothing and felt nothing.

"Lan, not that what you did was wrong in any way," Reanne went on, carefully, "because it really, seriously wasn't, but I don't think Rand is going to like this when he hears about it."

Lan wiped his sword on his dead wife's clothes and stared straight ahead, his face lacking any expression. "Don't trouble yourself, Reanne," he said. "I'll deal with the Dragon Reborn."