Broken
By: Rai
Rated: R

Author's Note: Though this drabble is not my first attempt at writing a Wheel of Time fanfiction, it is my first completed piece from the fantasy series. It was inspired by a Wikipedia entry that implied that Lan's "recovery" following the death of Moiraine involved a few wild nights in the sack with Myrelle Sedai. So, despite haven't had read The Lords of Chaos and A Crown of Swords or The Great Hunt in what feels like an Age, I tried to write it in a way that does not intrude too heavily on the canon.
It is worthwhile noting that if Lan's behaviour seems un-canonical, I call upon the fact that Lan was anything but behaving normally (for him anyway) during this time, hence the title of the story.
Spoilers: This is a post-Lords of Chaos fanfiction and so will incorporate and assume knowledge from that point onward. Please to be warned to the content of your spoilage that may occur.
Disclaimer: I am not owner nor the creator nor the writer of The Wheel of Time and its coinciding universe, may he rest in peace. I am not soliciting money from this venture as I am doing this for pure personal enjoyment.
Summary: Once, Lan had been the Warder of one of the most powerful Aes Sedai of this Age. But now she is dead and as a plaything for a Green, he had to cast aside his one true love. For who could love a broken Warder?

He didn't know why he bothered.

The bond always told her where he was. And since he had arrived at her camp in Salidar five days ago, she had always been able to find him. Even now he could feel her seeking him out, reaching out to him. He could sense her annoyance at his refusal to come to her, like a mother whose child refused to bathe or finish his meals.

He could feel his anger rising as he cursed the circumstances that had placed him in this situation. He wanted nothing to do with Myrelle Sedai or her ways in which she is able to save Warders from seeking certain death in order to avenge their dead Aes Sedai. Though there were times when he wondered if Moiraine was worthy of vengeance after what she had done to him. The non-consensual passing of a bond had not been seen in four hundred years, although somehow Moiraine had thought him to have been the exception to the rule.

I thought I had made myself clear the first time. I did it because I knew you would not consent to the idea, nor would you understand why it was imperative that I did as I did. This is the end of days, Dai'Shan. And I would not have you forget this fact because of any misfortune on my part. All you need to understand is that you will be needed and preferably alive than dead.

Lan laughed as he bitterly recalled her words. Of all people, he had thought that she would understand. Understood that he had long accepted that death would be his fate whether he sought vengeance or not. She knew, before he had even become a Warder, that he had been sworn to seek certain death in the Blight. It was a reality that was not unfamiliar to Lan, nor was it a fate that was unfamiliar to Moiraine.

He had thought she understood. Yet she had felt compelled to trap him nonetheless.

But then again, she was Aes Sedai.

He did not stir from his spot as Avar Hachami, one of Myrelle Sedai's Warders, approached him, his expression sympathetic. He was one of the others that Myrelle had saved when their Aes Sedai had passed away. He had endured the same emotional insecurities that had filled Lan when the bond was broken.

And yet, he did not understand.

"You better go to her," grunted Avar to Lan, tipping his head towards Myrelle's camp. "She is not renowned for her patience. It is better to approach it sooner than later."

Lan did not say a word, but he did rise to his feet, his heart heavy with the weight of his convictions. Avar gave him a wary look, one that understood the instability that Lan felt within him. "It will help," he said quietly as if to reassure him. "Though it will feel empty at first. But after awhile..." He trailed off at the expression on Lan's face, not trusting that his next words won't provoke anger. Lan was glad for it. He wasn't sure if he could trust himself had Avar allowed himself to continue speaking.

Lan stalked off towards Myrelle, towards the tent in which she waited for him to come. He could feel her impatience seeping through his bond and her disapproval of his mood. Though there was little surprise in it. Clearly, Lan had not been the only one to show defiance for Myrelle's "techniques." That the others before him had eventually succumbed to her methods is what lent her such confidence also.

He nodded at the Warder Croi Makin who was standing at the entrance of Myrelle's tent. Croi would only nod slightly in return before returning to his duty of standing watch. Lan could see Croi's disapproval of Myrelle's intentions tonight. Not because he saw it to be an unnecessary diversion, but because he did not like sharing Myrelle's affections. Lan sighed heavily as he pulled back the flap of the large tent and walked into the dimmed light within, wishing he could tell Croi that he had no intentions of taking away any of Myrelle's affections to begin with.

Myrelle Sedai was sitting on the floor of her tent, which was adorned with a rich green carpet that looked to have had origins from Illian. Her back was to the entrance, which was bare, showing off the olive-skin that complimented her fine, beautiful figure.

It took Lan a moment. But as Lan's eye adjusted to the darkness, he realized that the Aes Sedai before him was naked.

Her perfectly oval face turned to face him, her large dark eyes shining as she smiled. "You came," she said softly as she wrapped a sheer green sheet that barely concealed anything around her body. "That is good."

Lan took a deep breath. "You wanted to see me?" he asked as flatly as he could, though he could feel his heart racing, not out of anticipation, but fear.

"There is nothing to be afraid of," said Myrelle gently as she placed a hand on his arm, a gesture that made Lan flinch. She smiled reassuringly, her hand still resting on his arm. He cursed the bond; of course she would be able to sense his fear. "This is not something you are not used to by now."

He felt her fingers move towards his chest to unbutton the shirt he wore and he blinked. "What did you need me for, Myrelle?" he asked again, stone-faced.

"Hush! I need you healthy," said Myrelle with a smile, observing him as she undressed him, like a judge that observes their prize. "This is more for your own good than it is for mine."

"There is no need for this," he tried again weakly as the shirt fell from his body, revealing the scars of a battle long past. He could feel her breath intake a little at the sight. But that did not stop her hands moving onto his trousers. He fought to keep his mind clear, to tell her that he had no desires to do what it is she wanted him to do. But words refused to form in his mind. Suddenly, she took his hand into hers and Lan was surprised to realize that he was completely undressed and that he was lying on the carpet.

He looked at her, his eyes pleading. "Myrelle..." he whispered helplessly.

"Do you want to be Healed?" asked Myrelle softly, looking at him.

She always asked the same question, every time they were together. And every time, Lan tried to tell her that he did not want to be healed. That he wanted this pain within him to consume his soul and every meaningful feeling within him. That he relished in his own anguish as much as he suffered from it.

But like the last few times, he could only drop his gaze and say nothing.

She smiled. "Then we will begin," said Myrelle tenderly her hands holding his face as she channelled.

Several hours later, a thin sheet of sweat covered his entire body from a combination of effort and unexplained ecstasy. He groaned as he tried to recover from the exhaustion of the last few hours. Several times she had had to Heal him so that they could continue with her task. And once he had been Healed, they kept going.

Myrelle, wrapped in a sheer green robe that did little to hide her shape, embraced him. "How do you feel?" she asked him gently.

It was the same question she asked every time they did this. Lan held his breath, looking at her eager face. Steadying his thoughts, he made the effort to shrug. "Better, I think," he said quietly.

Myrelle frowned. "Well, these things take time," he heard her muttered to herself. Aloud, she said: "You are expected again tomorrow, Lan. I promised Moiraine I will keep you alive, and I intend to honour her death wish."

Lan could only nod numbly at her commands as he dressed himself, barely understanding what had happened the last while. Everything had become a blur, lost in the sweet sense of pure, unbridled, unexplainable passion.

"By the way," Myrelle added casually as he walked sullenly to the tent's exit, "who is this Nynaeve you speak of? Surely it is not the same Nynaeve that was an Accepted in the White Tower."

Lan stopped dead in his tracks and spun to stare at her. "How..." he asked.

Myrelle flushed, crossing her arms beneath her breasts as she spoke. "You've moaned her name several times while we... enjoyed each other's company," she finished hastily, her tone sounding cross.

Now it was Lan's turn to flush. "She... she is no one. Just a girl," explained Lan simply, refusing to look the Green in the eye.

Myrelle noticed this and did not look convinced, but allowed the statement to stand. She sighed as she patted him on the shoulder, saying not a word as he left the tent, Croi still standing silently next to the opening. Lan could feel her questions about Nynaeve pressing into his mind but knew she would not pursue it. Not unless he allowed her to pursue it.

Nynaeve...

It was a few moments before he realized that he had wandered beyond the boundaries of the camp, past signs of any others. He stopped, staring into nothing as he wondered how he got here. He had been a Warder to the one Aes Sedai who could hold the Dragon Reborn in her hand and not get bitten by him; as devoted to her cause as he was to his. But now she is dead and he was little more than a sexual pleasure to a rebel Green hiding in the woods.

His thoughts wandered as he wondered where the girl with the big brown eyes was. He remembered her scowl that hid that beautiful and intelligent soul. He could almost see the smile that she would only give him. And he wondered if she still waited for him, hope against hope, for him to come for her. Or if she had received the message he had left the young Rand Al'Thor in Cairhien and had simply moved on in her life and found someone she deserved.

He could feel the tears roll down his cheek and today he didn't stop them. He could only slouch, his face to the ground as he let his emotions of not only a love lost, but a love never fully realized and never experienced, overcome him physically.

After all, who could love a broken Warder?

The End