Disclaimers: I don't own the WoT universe, and I don't make profit on this story, so if there are anyone out there wanting to sue me -back off!
Summary: Four months after the Last Battle, Nynaeve is settled down in Two Rivers again, but fate doesn't seem to leave her alone. There are people who want revenge...
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Author's Note: Are people aware that I have spent more than a year on this story? All I can say is: "wow" and "why on earth am I not finished yet?" It's strange really, to devote so much time to something like this... Anyways, I don't mean to get all sentimental when I want to thank all the people who has reviewed last chapter! You know who you are, and I have replies to you at the bottom.
I would like to apologise to EvilChani as I have just updated without receiving her betaed copy of this chapter. Sorry, but I'm going on vacation now, and just couldn't wait until I got back! I will go back and change things when I have received your copy, I promise...
I also want to thank faeriepuck who has beta read this chapter and came with suggestions and corrections. You're the best!
Now, enjoy the reading of one of the longest chapters so far! And remember to say a few words in a review!
I Will Find You
CHAPTER NINE – Memories
by neela
"Stupid, arrogant know-it-alls! They should be bent over and given a full-fledged spanking thinking me – ME, who wove far more complicated weaves while they were still wobbling around their mother's skirts – unable to perform a simple Delving because I'm pregnant!"
To say that Nynaeve was angry was an understatement. Fumes were practically coming out of her ears and the vein on her neck was throbbing dangerously. Muttering below her breath while walking as briskly as she could towards Egwene's study, her knuckles whitened considerably from the urge to give her braid a thorough tug but refraining. Her glares sent a servant crashing into a wall, the sound of breaking porcelain following her down the corridor to the staircase.
"And why does the infirmary have to be placed three floors below the Amyrlin's Study!"
Nynaeve wanted to throw something, like the glass vase standing on a pillar near the wall. However, she resisted and continued down the white-marbled passageway, glaring at whomever passed be it Aes Sedai or Novice. Some (most times the Novices) took involuntarily a step backwards, while others continued on their way, unaffected, but she managed to send a fair-haired and slender White sister colliding with an open door. That gave her a small amount of satisfaction. But when the children started to boot the walls of her stomach in angry fits like herself, Nynaeve realised she had to calm down. Not that she did, but the thought was there.
It had all started when Beldaere came back. Egwene and she had arrived after a long climbing of the stairs (though this time she was also helped by weaves of Air shewas able tosee) to find the male Aes Sedai in the study, looking bedraggled. He had not bothered to stop by his quarters for a bath or change of clothes. Though, the smell of sweat and old blood soon disappeared as he told the story.
An hour after Egwene had issued the order, the groups of Aes Sedai arrived through Gateways all around the town, some ending up in the middle of Trolloc hordes. The sky was, as Nynaeve had described, black as night and gave the Shadowspawn an overconfident belief in their own abilities. Nevertheless, they were soon forced to break into retreat, and that was when the most mysterious thing happened: Gateways appeared here and there, giving the enemy escape routes which they used efficiently.
Beldaere did not know how the Gateways appeared, seeing as there were neither male nor female channelers among the Shadowspawn: Trollocs and Fades were all that was there. What he did find out, however, was how they created the blackness covering the sky. It was a sort of device not run by the Power, but rather by manpower. From what he could determine, you needed to add a powder which sent out smoke once wheels started running inside the machine. He gathered there were about twenty Trollocs running the device, each pushing its own wheel that connected to the machine. The device was currently in the hands of the Brown Ajah for a more thorough examination.
But none of this could compare to the dread Nynaeve felt when Beldaere told her how the Yellows had found the four men trying to protect her against the deadly Saldaean sword master. Two men were dead, one beheaded and one from the slash across his stomach, and while Tam al'Thor was Healed from the deep gash in his thigh, the local Lord was not as lucky. He was unconscious, not responding to the Healers' attempts, so they did things the ordinary way with tight bandages to stop the bleeding before transporting him back to the Tower and the infirmary, which was where she came from just now, highly emotional bordering to a full-fledged fit of rage.
The Yellows had barely let her do anything connected to saidar, not even a simple Delving. They had stood over her shoulder, commenting and harassing her about her methods and weaves until she felt the last drop of self-retraint disappear. That was when they learned to never get on el'Nynaeve Mandragoran's, Aes Sedai of the Grey Tower and Heroine of the Third Age, bad side. Seeing them either cowering a good five paces away from her or fleeing the room left her slightly less angry, but the irritation over them soon changed into irritation over her own inability to cure Perrin.
She managed to Heal his wounds (which made some people say it needed a larger amount of Power behind the weave than any of the first tries had possessed) but not to wake him up. And that infuriated her to no end, simply because she didn't know why, and did not want to admit that to the other Aes Sedai. Or the worried wife and Lady of Two Rivers who had been sitting right beside her husband, clutching a very pale hand in hers and alternating gazes between Nynaeve and Perrin.
Faile had followed from Emond's Field, leaving the Village Council and Women's Circle in charge, and she insisted that she had to be there the whole time. Nynaeve did not have the heart to send her away and instead settled for the fact that Faile was going towitness more of her bad side as the other Yellows continuedto comment and bickeramongst themselves.
While tending to Perrin, Nynaeve learned that Faile was taken away by Cha Faile members shortly after her departure, and was taken into hiding for the duration of the battle. That piqued her curiosity a minute, and she asked if the women of the Cha Faile didn't long to explore their freedom now that the war was over. But Faile, lines streaking her face in worry making her look ten years older, only replied softly that they loved their life in the Two Rivers. As Faile reached out to brush away a stray hair from Perrin's face and at the same time stroking her still-flat stomach, Nynaeve fell silent, continuing the healing process while mentally swearing that she was going to get to the bottom of this mystery. Perrin was going to wake up to see his child and wife; she would make sure of that.
At the moment, a trip to the Tower Library tempted her, but she felt the need to get back to Egwene and Beldaere to let them know of the progress, and to discuss the next step. It was likely that this attack was the first step of an evilly made plan which she – and probably Rand – were the centre of; the two peoplethat had ridden the world of the greatest darkness since the Age of Legends. A burst of irritation swept through her again. As if it wasn't enough to be wanted and hunted by a man thinking she had killed his family.
Rhien t'Aldar was a thorn in her side and had been for a long time, ever since before the Battle. Two times had he tried to murder her, excluding the attempt last night. And all that trouble for misinterpreting what was an innocent situation for her, but a guilty situation for someone else.
The real story began sometime in Taisham 1001 NE, during the winter in Saldaea, just a few days before hers and Lan's one-year anniversary. She was on a mission to hunt down a Black Sister that had infiltrated Egwene's inner circle and been the cause of her friend's capture by those loyal to Elaida a month earlier, just before Elaida's fall.
For the last few days Nynaeve and Lan had been on the sister's trail, and were catching up with her. The traces of hooves were clearly visible in the thick snow, leading up to a farm less than a mile ahead of them to the north. They were hastening their speed when screams suddenly sounded through the cold, misty air.
Sparing a glance at each other, dread settling in Nynaeve's stomach, they galloped to the farm. Lan was quickly off his black stallion and searched the surroundings for their prey, sword drawn. Nynaeve jumped off her mare and went first around the corner of the small barn and immediately stopped.
Before her, on the open ground between farm house and barn, lay the body of a young girl; blood coloured the white ground beneath her. A hand was laid upon her shoulder and squeezed it slightly. She barely noticed as her gaze went to the open doorway of the farm house. The body of a woman, clothes strewn around her and blood running down the snow, made her close her eyes and reach a hand back for comfort. Lan took it gently in his, and despite the coldness of his fingers, Nynaeve drew warmth from him.
Seconds passed, and when she heard an anguished scream, she realised they were not alone. A man came from behind the farm house, an axe in his hands. As soon as he spotted the bodies, he fell down on his knees, letting out a howl that tore her heart in two. More victims at the hands of Halima Saranov.
She did not know how long they stood there before she became aware that the man was staring at her. Stepping forward, she prepared her speech in her mind, but never got that far. Suddenly, the man was on his feet and rushing at her, axe raised. Grasping saidar never crossed her mind; her body stood as if rooted to the ground.
As the axe neared, it was thrown back by the strong force behind Lan's sword. She hadn't noticed him stepping around her, blocking the other man, who was currently up on his feet again and engaging Lan in a fierce battle. He was screaming too, something about her (Nynaeve) killing his family – he knew the signs of Power when he saw them. He wanted revenge. Lan was saying something back to him about it not being Nynaeve's doing, but a Black Sister's, which the man utterly refused to listen to.
In the end, Lan managed to slip in a knock against the man's head with the handle of his sword. The man went crashing into the snow. Nynaeve was quickly next to her husband to check for wounds. Seeing none, and Lan bobbing his head in sympathy towards the man, she went to him instead, soon assessing his injuries. There was only the nasty swell at the back of his head.
"You could have been more gentle, Lan," she reprimanded him over her shoulder. Getting over the shock, she did not feel angry at the man, only remorse and sorrow. She could sense Lan stiffen and try to stare a hole in the back of her neck. Concluding that a headache was all the man was going to get, she rose and walked over to her husband. They did not share a bond like Aes Sedai and Gaidin, but they had the bond of marriage. She could tell how worried he had been.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "I know how worried you were. Thank you for protecting me." Nynaeve wanted to bite the last sentence back, despite it being true. She could take care of herself, or at least given the chance! Instead, she bit her lip and tugged her braid. That brought a small smile to Lan's lips, and he touched her cheek softly.
"I will always protect you, Nynaeve. Especially when you think you need none."
That earned him a mouthful of angry retorts, along with sleeping alone that night.
Smiling at the memory, Nynaeve forgot to check her path and suddenly crashed her foot into the first step of the staircase. Cursing below her breath, she ignored the need to rub her toe (not that she could reach down to it anyway, she couldn't even see it) and started on the way up.
They had stayed at the farm until the man woke up. Lan had the bodies brought inside and Nynaeve cleaned them and bound their wounds. The man was put in the bed located near the hearth, to which her husband added logs in order to keep the fire going. After an hour, the man stirred, and Nynaeve prepared herself for a new angry confrontation. However, the man stayed quiet and introvert throughout her entire explanation. It was like she never existed. Today, she almost wished she didn't.
They left straight after, leaving the man to his grief. The day after, they caught up with the Black Sister and, once shielded, made a Gateway back to Tar Valon. There, the interrogators learned that Halima Saranov was in reality Aran'gar, a reincarnate of the late Balthamel. Soon after that, life continued, and she and Lan's marriage bloomed even as Tarmon Gai'don drew neared and nearer. Their one-year anniversary passed, and suddenly, the man showed up again.
It was no less than two weeks later, on the 27th of Taisham. Inside the Tower, the Hall of Sitters was discussing the possibility to merge the White Tower and the Black. Rand was there on behalf of the male channelers, having a verbal fight of wills with the annoying, stuck-up Sitters. Egwene wisely stayed out of the argument, only intervening when it went out of hand or had something to add. She wanted to merge the towers, but to do that, she needed the Hall's approval, and that was supposed to be happening now.
Nynaeve had watched the exchange of words for what seemed like hours, before Aviendha had come to her rescue and dragged her out for a stroll around the city. Stopping shortly by Lan to say where she went – and refuse to allow himto follow as they were two strong Aes Sedai who could handle themselves – they quickly left the Hall, Nynaeve ignoring the pair of eyes trying to stare a hole in her neck, and outside in the sun.
The snow lay as a blanket of whiteness, an image that looked unbelieving as the Last Battle approached. All seven seals had not been found, and though he had not escaped yet, they knew they were walking towards a battle that would most likely hold the presence of the Dark One. That was as sure as the large mountain in the east shadowing Tar Valon was raised from the ground by the powers – and death – of Lews Therin Telamon.
The signs of Tarmon Gai'don could be seen everywhere, from mothers refusing the children to go out without supervision to well-lit streets during the dark hours to a severe economic downfall for peddlers, traders and shopkeepers. On the other side of the bridges of Tar Valon, and this side, people became suspicious of everyone, even people of their own flesh and blood. Maybe especially them. You never knew when you were betrayed until it was too late.
But inside the city, despite its dark places, they could feel a little safer. You could not go through the streets without bumping into groups of soldiers with the tear of Tar Valon emblazed on their clothing. The streets were also well-lit, and it had been made illegal to hide one's face – walking with one's hood up was enough to land one in the cellars of the Tower.
Today, however, there was no need for lit lanterns. It was one of the first sunny days since the fall of Elaida, and signalled that the end of winter would come in just a few months' time. Therefore, Nynaeve and Aviendha did not, for once, argue with that particular law about the hoods.
Smiling and chattering, yet keeping themselves on the edge, the two women made their way to the markets, strolling among the shops and stalls to watch the items on display. While Aviendha spotted a man selling elaborate knives and made a beeline for him, Nynaeve stayed behind looking at the presented herbs (all in glass jars because of the cold) in one of the many colourful stalls. Sun bathed her face, giving warmth in the currently low temperature, and she felt more alive than she had done during the polar night.
Considering the weight in the small pouch at her waist, she opened her mouth to say she wanted to buy some of the dried hensfoot, but never got that far.
It all happened in a blur; someone yelled, a flash of pain stung her chest and the world threatened to go black. Silence met her ears, but she knew a fierce battle was going on beside her. Her knees hit the snow as a pair of arms grasped her shoulders and laid her onto a lap. She tried to see who it was, but it was all so blurry and the blackness wanted to take hold of her eyesight.
From the vibrations in the air, she assumed someone was talking to her, but she could not distinguish anything. The blackness overwhelmed her.
Later, she woke up and found herself in the infirmary of the Tower. Her chest was hurting, and she felt entirely fatigued. Even before she had fully opened her eyes, someone grasped her hand and talked to her.
"Nynaeve…" It was Lan's voice, soothing to her surprisingly sore ears. He stood by her bed, worry and relief in his eyes, as well as…anger?
During the next minutes, Nynaeve learned that Lan Mandragoran was like a bear with a sore tooth. He was angry at her for playing with her life in times like these. He was angry that he had to stand on the sideline while she was slowly slipping away from him, unable to do nothing but stare, and think. He was angry that he was denied the chance to kill the assassin.
Nynaeve felt tears well up in her eyes while her husband raged and stormed, but refused to let them fall; she pressed them tightly together, making stars appear beneath her eyelids. She had never seen him this angry, not even in Tear had he been so…so…frightening. She wanted to hide away, to shrink and disappear. 'Poke the meekest dog too often, and he will bite,' Elayne had said once, and now Nynaeve understood her meaning. It only made her want to cry more.
Suddenly, Lan stopped his rant, but she didn't dare look up; she bowed her head deeper and looked the other way. Not until a hand touched her chin did she realise that he had moved. She didn't find the strength to fight him, and let him tip her face up to meet his eyes. They were full of remorse, and she soon found herself in her husband's strong and safe arms.
"For the Love of the Light, Nynaeve," he whispered softly in her ear. "You will be the death of me."
And she cried.
It had been Rhien, again, who flung the knife in her chest that day. Lan had not obeyed her wishes, and followed the women due to an uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. He had almost arrived too late; when he got there, she was already on her knees, her assailant on the run. However, before the man got too far, Lan had caught up with him and fought until the Tar Valon guards came, dragging the man to the cellars of the Tower. There he had undergone severe interrogations from members of the White Ajah, but not revealed anything that made him other than a simple man wanting revenge for his family.
Nynaeve had thought, afterwards, that she could be safe now, but little did she know at the time that someone was already making him a pawn in their elaborate plans. Two weeks before the Battle, while on their way to the Blight, a messenger came to the Amyrlin that one of the prisoners had escaped. Egwene had told Nynaeve, who became worried. She tried to be firm when she related the news to Lan, but was soon forced to swear she would be careful, and not go wandering on her own. The man had already shown his abilities, and he had to be in a league with someone powerful if he had managed to break free of the Power-wrought chains in the deepest cell of the Tower.
That fact had done nothing to boost her mood, and the last weeks before the upcoming were spent twitching and jumping at shadows, being suspicious of everyone and everything. Until she discovered she was with child. Her mind completely forgot Rhien and those who helped him and focused instead on the present. It was in fact not until she met Egwene in Tel'aran'rhiod last night that she remembered the man who tried to kill her. Lan's death had clouded her mind for such a long time.
A melancholy emotion washed over her as she started on the last staircase. Last night she had finally let the thought sink, and could no longer deny that her husband was gone. And it hurt, so much. Tears wanted to well up in her eyes again, but she refused. There were people around, going up and down the stairs and back and forth in the hallways – they were not to see her suffering. It was private.
"Get a grip on yourself, woman," Nynaeve growled below her breath. "'Tis not the time."
Reaching the top, she immediately set off to the Amyrlin's study. She still drew a lot of attention – many recognised her from the Battle and descriptions from others – but she ignored them. It was not like she asked to be a heroine either! "Stupid, wool-headed fools." If anyone heard her muttering, they stayed wisely silent.
Moments later, Nynaeve stood outside the door in the Keeper's office, rising her fist to knock, but letting it fall again as she heard the muffled voices from inside the study. It was bad-mannered to eavesdrop, she knew that, but something in her mind made her throw good manners out of the window. A kick from the children had her half-amused; it was almost like encouragement.
"Don't tell anyone," she whispered to her stomach and leaned against the door.
"—saying the Telling is about the uprising?" That had to be Beldaere, from the baritone of his voice.
"Yes," replied Egwene's gentle voice. "The reports I have received has convinced me. I have even received a letter from the leaders, asking for information of her whereabouts. Obviously, they want her there to oversee the negotiations."
"If they had the honour of her presence, it would most certainly tip the scales in their favour. The ambassadors would not have much to argue about then. Their strongest argument for now lies in her disappearance."
"I would believe it does." A pause. "However, I do not know how to broach this subject. So much has happened; I do not wish to burden her more."
"To keep her in the dark of this is certainly not advisable. Sooner or later, it will come to light, and then she will want answers."
Egwene made no reply, and the conversation left Nynaeve curious. Of what and whom were they speaking of? And what uprising? She really needed to get herself updated on the world events. Staying in a cottage in the Westwood had only left her at a disadvantage and uninformed.
She pressed herself tighter to the door, trying to fish up more information, when suddenly the door to the Keeper's study opened and Nynaeve almost jumped to the roof. The plump Aes Sedai from earlier entered, and gave her a quizzical look. Glaring at the woman, she hastily knocked on the door and walked in at Egwene's 'enter'. The two people stopped their conversation, but Nynaeve did not miss the look Egwene sent her Keeper; they would continue later.
The Amyrlin sat behind her desk, hands folded over what looked like a formal letter – she could see the red seal at the bottom of the paper, and wondered if that was from the 'leaders' as Egwene put it. In one of the two chairs before the desk sat Beldaere, looking exactly as he did when first they met so many months ago.
Six feet tall, broad-shouldered and with a flashing grin that would make most women weak in their knees, Beldaere left Arafel to join Rand's Black Tower. Not long after, Egwene united the Towers, and when Siuan left her past behind to pursue a life with Gareth Bryne, she offered him the position of Keeper of Chronicles. He had been in the Green Ajah, if she remembered correctly, and had a wife. But Egwene told her that his wife had been killed not long after the Battle by the Gwiddon. During their brief meeting earlier this day, they had both offered their condolences and Nynaeve felt they now had a silent understanding.
Closing the door, she walked over to the other chair and sat down. Egwene looked at her expectantly, obviously putting aside whatever it was they discussed before she came. She wanted to blush a little as she wondered if the other woman had known she stood right outside the door, eavesdropping. Beldaere sat quietly in his chair. Nynaeve noted he had washed and changed during her visit to Perrin.
"I managed to Heal his wounds," she said resigned, leaving their mysterious conversation to be questioned later (discreetly, of course). "But I cannot wake him. Hishealth is restored, so I do not understand. This is nothing I have experienced before, and neither have I heard of it. I do not know when – or if – he will wake up." She half-threw her hands in the air dejectedly, harrumphing silently. Egwene looked thoughtfully, unaware that she was pinching at the ends of the letter. Beldaere sat eerily still, and said nothing, looking disinterested as he stared at the script on the bottom of the desk. When Egwene spoke, however, he sat up straight and listened.
"I will talk to the Brown Aes Sedai and have them go through the library to see if there is any documentation on the matter. I daresay they know their way around that mess better than we do." Nynaeve snorted. It was a wonder anyone could find anything in the chaos of rolls and scripts and tomes; there was absolutely no systematic order inside that library, but then again, when had the Browns showed a sense of order? For a moment, she was happy she decided to not go to the library. She might have gotten lost among the shelves.
Egwene cleared her throat, a twinkle in her eye, "I will tell them to bring whatever they find to your apartments. A desk will be brought there so you can work there in stead of the dusty library." Nynaeve gave her a grateful smile. "In any case, we need to move on to a more pressing matter." As Beldaere perked up at this, she sensed they would be discussing last night and the next step. Egwene stood to her feet and started pacing.
"The events of last night were – I believe – not a coincidence. For months now, I have picked up pieces of information and stray rumours which put together tells of a dangerous plot. Whoever is behind this has carefully and masterfully erased any trace that might lead back to him or her, or them, so we have nothing now to go on but three things: the Gwiddon, Rhien and the mysterious device." She paused, looking over at Nynaeve to see if she was hanging on.
At her nod, she continued. "The Gwiddon, Rhien and a third party fled Two Rivers last night and came to the outskirts of Baerlon. There, they disappeared through a Gateway. Why they waited for so long before escaping, I do not know for certain, but I have a hunch. Cyndane knew we were on her trail, and that Beldaere was most likely among the Aes Sedai who arrived at the battle. She also knows of his Talent of sensing traces of saidar and saidin, and that he knows her 'smell', to put it that way. Therefore, I believe she wanted to avoid him knowing she had ever been there."
"Unfortunately, we have no idea of their new whereabouts, and can not send out another search party until we receive new information. However, that is not what worries me the most." Egwene sighed, standing with her back to Nynaeve and looking out at the setting sun. Her hands balled then relaxed, and she turned around to face them. Saddened eyes locked with her confused ones.
"As I think we have all come to realise, you are in danger. I believe it is not the Gwiddon who is behind all this scheming, she is too weak and has too little power. Nor do I believe that you are the only person they are after."
Nynaeve gasped, " Rand…" Egwene almost slumped down in her seat, nodding resignedly.
"This letter comes from him, written by Min. It is written in code, as we have been forced to do so as many attempts have been made on his life. They are currently in Caemlyn, after a group of Darkfriends uncovered his last hiding place and tore it apart. He's not faring very well. Remember what I told you earlier?" Nynaeve nodded. "Well, according to Min, his condition has worsened. They are not only attacking him, you see. They are also attacking those he loves and those who try to protect him, and he takes it harder than if it had only been him the Darkfriends were aiming for. Nothing seems to help counter the effect they have on him either."
"They are not trying to get to him the usual way with assassination attempts," said Nynaeve, beginning to understand the grave situation. "But rather through ways that hurts him more than a thousand knives in the heart."
"Yes, and I feel helpless," replied Egwene, rolling the letter up and putting it in one of the carved boxes on her right. With weaves of Spirit and Air, she locked the box and put an additional ward on it. Nynaeve felt anger rising in her chest.
"That stupid, silly boy," she muttered stiffly, momentarily forgetting the other two, who were now staring at her; Beldaere strangely, while Egwene had a knowing look upon her face.
"He could need a push," the Amyrlin said, giving her Keeper a wink. He just stared confused at her, but Egwene did not elaborate.
"Indeed he does," Nynaeve replied angrily. "And I wouldn't mind boxing his ears either. That Light-blinded wool-head!" She quickly stood up and, while forgetting all about those she left behind, stormed out of the study. If she had not been so livid, she would have heard the small chuckle from Egwene who proceeded to tell Beldaere that no one held such a fierce sense of protection of her 'fellow village people' than Nynaeve, nor did anyone fear the Wisdom who made one feel like a small child again as much as Rand al'Thor.
Setting the untouched food tray on a small table next to the golden double doors for the servants to take away, Min looked over her shoulder. The big room was darkened by the shut litters, and only a few candles hanging on either side of the four-poster master bed and the left wall gave off a scarce light, but that was the way he wanted it. Even though he cannot see anything. They had tried to have the litters open, the hearth burning and add more candles, but that had made him terribly angry, something they were trying to avoid after last time. The scorch marks from uncontrollable fireballs were still visible on the walls where the forest-patterned wallpaper had faded.
The hangings were closed around the master bed – he didn't want people to see beyond them – but she knew what it looked like behind the dark red velvet curtains. Hidden at the bottom of the dark-coloured silk pillows beneath the matching featherbed cover lay a man troubled and pained by his sudden inability to see, drowning in guilt of the many killed during his reign (especially the women) and refusing to see anyone, even his children. Though they had all – Aviendha, Elayne and herself – managed to get to him before he could refuse their company. Min was there almost all the time, caring for him like she had before the Battle. Only this time she felt more sad and depressed by his demeanour, and often sought the company of the other women and the twins.
Sighing, she walked over to the windows. The curtains were drawn and the litters shut, though she sneaked around the curtains and found a small part of the giant window that she could open. Opening it carefully, trying to avoid any loud noises (his ears had become rather sensitive) Min breathed in the humid air.
It had just been raining, she could tell by the smell – wet grass and bark from the nearby trees drifted through her nostrils. She held her eyes closed, ravishing in the smells and sounds of the happenings right outside the window.
From far away she could hear the city buzz with life in a way that reminded her of Baerlon on a sunny day in the middle of spring, though that was not the case here. No, here in Caemlyn people were preparing for a hard winter, as they were probably doing all over the world. Much had been lost in the war; fields and forests had burned down, which led to many beasts and animals collapsing of hunger. There were just not enough food, and what little left were argued about in Elayne's court with her as the judge. She tried as best as she could to feed her subjects, and was so far succeeding. How she managed to get all the food, Min didn't know, but she suspected Elayne gave of her own stores.
In the training yard on the other side of the garden, someone was fighting and others cheering. Already a few weeks after peace had been restored, young men streamed to the capital to subject themselves to training, as the armies had suffered greatly at Tarmon Gai'don. She admired their courage and sense of duty, but didn't like this war business very much. It had taken much from her, and her fellow wives. At least they would have some peace now. Hopefully years, but despite her viewings, Min did not know as much about the future as people thought she did. She couldn't understand all she saw, and in the last few months the viewings had lessened. Of course, that might be because she spent most of her time inside his quarters.
You really should try and get out soon. It can't possibly be healthy to stay inside, no matter how much you love him and don't trust anyone else to care for him.
Min exhaled noisily. A few birds and insects chirped here and there, but mostly it was silent – winter was coming after all. And with winter came the memories.
A year ago, he had married herself, Aviendha and Elayne. Tigraine and Tomas had come to this world not long after, and that winter had been one of their happiest. But then the preparations for war began, which separated them, and in the end came the Day that would drive him further into his depression. It was not rare that he muttered (or screamed) in his sleep about all the Far Dareis Mai and other women he had sent to their deaths. At one point, he had even believed Nynaeve had been lost in the Battle too, along with her children and husband. The fact that he had been rescued by her straight after the destruction of the Dark One held no importance to him.
"She's not here, is she? No one knows where she is. Not even the Amyrlin's eyes and ears. She is gone. I made Lan fight, and he's dead. It's my fault. It sent her away, and now we do not know where she is. I might as well have killed her."
Min could still remember his words, spoken on a dark, chilly night two months after the Battle. She had said the opposite to him: that Nynaeve was alive, that it was not his fault, that he had not killed her. He hadn't believed her. He still didn't believe her, and now she was loosing faith too.
There had been no words of Nynaeve's appearance, and it said a lot. She had been proclaimed a Heroine of the Third Age, and drawings of her could be found in all the major cities. At least it could a month ago. Now the people were losing faith also. No Dragon Reborn, and no Arwres. No wonder people were distraught and edgy, causing riots. They had none to look up to in this time which was supposed to be used to celebrate the victory and continuing peace.
Her eyebrow furrowed. But maybe there is some merit to the few rumours of her being spotted in Bandar Eban three months ago. If Nynaeve is gone, why is the uprising still raging and – A movement on the other side of the curtains and a muffled voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Close the window."
The order was harsh, but it went straight over her head; she was getting used to it. Sighing, Min closed the window and went back to the other side of the curtains. The hangings around the bed were untouched and there were no more sounds, but she knew he was awake and listening. Walking over to the bed, across the few rays of light from the candles, she slipped behind the hanging and sat down. His back was turned to her and hidden beneath the cover, but she thought she could spot his red hair on the bottom of the pillow.
"You didn't touch your food," she said quietly. Silence met her. This would lead nowhere, she knew, but she had to try. "You should be sorry, it was delicious. The cook had outdone herself this time – the fried vegetables were a wonderful accompaniment to the crusted beef, and the mushroom sauce unforgettable. And to dessert there were fresh sugared berries from the other side of the Aiel Waste. I do not know the name, but they tasted very good."
The silence stretched on, and she received no response. Sighing, she wrung her hands while wanting to hit him. She hated the state he was in! It made him so much less the man she loved, the man he could be despite his blindness. People still coped, even if they were blind!
"Do you need help with anything?" Min asked instead, suppressing her irritation, reaching a hand out to lie on his shoulder. It was brushed away brusquely with a short 'no'. She almost wanted to box his ears, like Nynaeve had done in one of his childhood stories, but it would have no effect. She made to leave when suddenly there was a lot of commotion outside the doors.
At first her breath caught in her throat – many wanted to kill Rand, which was why they often moved between places – but she soon realised it didn't sound like a battle was taking place. Someone was most certainly trying to get in, but they were rather arguing their way in than fighting. It sounded like a cat's choir, with voices shooting here and there and mixing together in such a shrill turmoil that Min had to shield her ears.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Rand bend over and stuff his hands over his very sensitive ears. Seeing him in such pain made her act, and she quickly jumped off the bed and walked briskly towards the door. However, as she came nearer she could clearly hear the argument outside, and most importantly, who the visitor was. There was no mistake of that voice, especially when it argued in pitch-high tones that had quickly become familiar to her.
"—out of the way, you stupid girl! That wool-headed nitwit of sheepherder who doesn't seem able to tell one end of a duck from another is not worth your protection! A thick-headed fool that man is, wallowing in self-pity when the world so obviously needs him to take responsibility! He needs a good talking-to, and a thorough boxing of ears, though I will leave the—" Min consciously ignored what the person said, heat rising in her cheeks "—to his numerous wives, I'm sure they would enjoy that! Now let me through!"
And before Min knew what happened, the doors were blasted off their hinges and collided heavily with the walls on either side, the sounds of broken wood and porcelain following rapidly. She managed to shield her face from stray pieces of wood and glass flying through the air, but let the arms fall quickly when the person spoke again. Or rather screamed at the top of her voice.
" Rand al'Thor!"
In the now open and empty doorway stood a very pregnant el'Nynaeve Mandragoran, face beet red from anger, and arms thrown out to the sides with a look thatshot daggers at the heap on the bed that was Rand. Over the woman's shoulders Min could see the astonished – and a little frightened – looks upon the Maidens' faces. They had obviously not met Nynaeve before. Standing on the side of room, she was plainly overlooked by the now raging, braid-tugging woman marching forwards with her eyes set on the bed. The hangings fell prey to whatever powers she had used on the doors, and Min watched as Rand huddled closer and closer together, wincing at the angry screams, though not covering his ears.
"What is this I hear! Lying in your bed for weeks, hardly eating, refusing anyone who knocks on the door, and believing the World will sort itself out without your intervention!"
Min winced from the shrill tone. The woman had not only a sharp wit – her tongue was not far off. Not for the first time did she wonder how Lan had put up with this woman. Her eyes followed Nynaeve as she walked, hands waving while viciously tugging the braid so hard Min thought it would be ripped straight off her scull. She involuntarily took a step backwards. Had she ever said she didn't fear the old Wisdom? If she had, she would most certainly take that back now.
"You Light-blinded, dim-witted mudfoot! Thinking it doesn't matter whether you stay alive or not! Of course it does! You're the Dragon flaming Reborn! You're the bloody ruler of the Westlands, even if it is unofficially!"
From where she stood, Min could see the fire in the woman's eyes as she reached the bed. Her braid was tugged violently. Even though Rand could not see his old Wisdom, he did definitely shrink back at her presence; if it was possible, he balled himself even further into the covers.
"Now get out of there!" With that, Nynaeve grasped the bed sheets and flung it all away, leaving a shocked and struggling man in its wake, trying to get them back. By their own accord (or rather Nynaeve's powers) the curtains were thrown aside so that the last rays of sun streamed in and revealed a spot-on naked man, at least the back of him. "And have you wondered why underclothes were invented! Because it's decent!"
Min was sure her eyes were popping out and her jaw reaching the floor as Nynaeve let out another stream of colourful language she was sure would make a sailor's ears go pink. Of all I had imagined… Her lips twitched, but she refrained from smiling. The scene was highly amusing, and she would've laughed had it not been for Nynaeve immediately twirling around on her.
"And you!" Nynaeve pointed her finger at her. "Get this man a bath! I want him shaved and clothed too! Then we shall talk!" And with that she turned on her heels and marched (as best as she could) out of the room. Only once she was out of earshot did Min laugh. And she laughed a long time too.
A while later found Nynaeve sitting in a small and comfortable sitting room. In one end of the room a hearth blazed to life and gave off warmth to her chilled bones. The windows were closed as it had begun to rain again outside, but the weather could not dampen her mood. Elayne's children were clucking with glee at the funny faces their mother pulled at them, and it warmed her heart to look at them.
At eleven months, Tigraine had inherited her father's wild, red hair and her mother's sapphire blue eyes. According to Elayne, Tigraine was the sleeper of the twins, and could make it through a whole night and not disturb Lini, who had become their nurse. Her twin, Tomas, however, often woke in the middle of the night and demanded food. He had grey eyes and red-golden, curly locks. Where Tigraine was small and slender, Tomas held the promise of growing up to become as tall as his father. Nynaeve smiled. They were adorable, and she began wondering how her children would look like. Not to mention, what gender they would be.
"You know, Nynaeve," Elayne said, noticing her longing gaze and understanding, "I can Caress the Child, if you want me to."
At first, she wanted to say 'yes', but then she began to think. Did she really want to know the genders? Or should she wait until birth? She could of course let Elayne perform the weave, and just leave out the genders. She truly wanted to know if they were healthy and if there would be any problems.
"I would like that very much," she said finally, giving the woman a beam. "I have not had anyone to check on the babes since the Battle, and I would like to know if they are alright. But not the genders; I want that to be a surprise." Elayne winked and motioned Lini to come and take the twins. The neat, reed thin woman with gnarled fingers and white hair was over at once, taking the children in her arms. Although the twins showed their longing for their mother, they did not have anything against their nurse who smiled at them.
"There's no point letting honey age too long before you eat it," the nurse said to Nynaeve, turning towards the door. "Their genders won't change now, so what is the point of waiting?" With that she gave her a warm smile and left for the children's nap, while Nynaeve sat pondering her words. What was the point really? She might as well get over it.
"I have changed my mind; I'd like to know their genders." Elayne beamed at her and grasped hold of saidar. Then she began the weave that resembled Delving, but had an entirely different effect. Nynaeve sat with her hands in her lap, twitching nervously while Elayne worked. No turning back now. Well, at least I'll be able to choose whether to give them girls' or boys' clothes.
Just as Elayne let go of the Power, the door to the room opened to reveal Rand walking unsteadily on his feet, led carefully by Min. Now that she saw him in a new light for the first time, Nynaeve felt an enormous amount of pity. He did not deserve all this. Neither do you, said her inner voice, but she ignored it.
Towering above all the three women with his six and a half feet and broad shoulders, Rand had the same red-tinged, unruly hair and pale reflection, albeit paler due to his self-mistreatment and lack of sun. His grey eyes were open and stared empty in front of him, and she noticed how his head jerked from side to side, responding to the loud sounds as Min led him to an vacant chair. He obviously had not gotten used to the sensitivity of his ears yet, and he had spent far too much time lying still as he almost wobbled on his feet. Though his clothes seemed to cover it, he had lost weight and that could partially explain the sunken stature.
Forgetting about the children for a moment, Nynaeve stood and walked over to the man. Min stood off to the side, giving her room, but followed her movements closely and protectively. She must have been the one to take most care of him. Meeting the woman's gaze, Nynaeve nodded briefly before concentrating on Rand.
She cherished the sensation of new life and happiness following as she grasped the Power. It felt freeing, and alive. Nynaeve bent down and took hold of Rand's head. He jerked at this, but she held it firmly and began the Delve, gently soothing him and focusing on what she saw.
The two old wounds in his side glared at her as they always had, never wanting to be healed, not even after the Dark One had been destroyed. As she assumed, he was undernourished – probably on his own accord – and though he had lost weight, it was not down on a dangerous level. Pushing all that to the back of her mind, she concentrated on his eyes. There seemed to be nothing wrong with them, but still he could not see. It was like a fog had settled around the eyes, clouding his vision and making it lost in the white mist. Her brow furrowed and she felt the irritation swell in her. Cursing mentally, she opened her eyes and let go of saidar.
"Well?" Rand asked, his voice raspy and uncertain. He moved his head in her direction as she sighed.
"I do not understand," she replied resignedly and returned to her chair. Min immediately kneeled beside Rand's chair until a servant brought one for her, but still held herself close by. Nynaeve continued. "There is this kind of fog that lies around your eyes, which cannot be driven away by a simple Healing. You have been blinded by the Dark One himself – I do not expect this to be an easy task. But anything short of death can be Healed, I know it!"
Silence ensued. No one knew what to say. Rand looked heartbroken, and held his head down. Though the fact that he was in this room told Nynaeve of how much progress she was making on the depressed man. And she intended to finish it. A Wisdom never abandons her own people.
Perhaps the weed you received from that old lady might work said a voice at the back of her head.
No, she gave it for me to use. I promised to not use it on others than myself.
It is tempting, though… Both Perrin and Rand could benefit from its use.
No, she told the voice firmly. I will only use it on myself. That is, if I can find it again. The Trollocs have probably torn down my cottage and made a complete mess. I shall be surprised if I can find anything at all. After all, Tam said the only thing not broken or torn apart was Lan's shirt. Lan… The weed…
Someone put a hand on her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts. Looking to the side, she found Elayne staring at her with a smile. "In three months' time, you are going to give birth to two healthy baby boys, Nynaeve."
She could not do anything but returning a smile that seemed to split her face in two.
TO BE CONTINUED
Author's Notes:
As people can see, I have decided our heroine is going to have twin boys. The vote ended 50-50, so I had to make a choice, and found that it was best for my plans to have two boys. There is a stronger reason for this, but I will not reveal that now. It would spoil everything.
I do hope everyone enjoyed this chapter (I certainly did!) and that you'll keep reading! It would be terrific if you could leave a piece of your mind - just push the button down on the left side of the page that says "submit review". I would be forever grateful!
Aria-Wolfstar -Hey, watch out who you're accusing... You never seem to be online when I am online... (wink) And I do not believe I will have a tomboyish girl, at least not in this story (she is going to have two boys, after all). Maybe in some other story, we'll see... :)
F75 -Thank you! It's nice to have not too many objections, though the vote ended 50-50. Hehe, it is kind of hard to be an impartial judge then...
discordchick -Perrin will...be okay... Just not right now. It will take some time.
faeriepuck -Careful now! We wouldn't want anyone to know of the Master Plot To Get Lan Back Alive, would we:D I really appreciate what you do for me. If I knew your address, I would've sent you an original, Norwegian milk chocolate. They're excellent! (want chocolate...)
Tale -Thank you, and I hope you're not too disappointed it's not boy/girl...
nightdweller -I'm going, I'm going! Sorry you didn't get what you voted for (geez, I sound like a politician), but as the vote ended fifty-fifty, I felt the need to take a choice. By the way, twin boys will fit nicely in my future planning... I'm soooo looking forward to the end of this story, and not in a bad way. (wink)
Danyu -Thank you! I love new reviewers, by the way... Virtual chocolate frog to you!