Disclaimer: I do not own The Wheel of Time or any of the characters. I'm just obsessed with them.
Passion of Thought
By Childhood Aspirations
Nynaeve rolled over in her bed, grunting in dissatisfaction. No matter which way she turned, she couldn't find a comfortable position.
And her mind would not let her rest…
Thoughts tossed in her head as restlessly as she herself did. So much to contemplate, and evidently not enough hours in a day to fit it all in…
Only one of those thoughts refused to fade as the others did, though those others did so reluctantly.
Lan…
That bloody man was going to lead her heart around on strings until he finally admitted that he loved her and couldn't do anything about it.
Light! Hadn't she admitted it?
It did not matter to her that he was a Warder. His bond was to another woman, but that did not matter either. Nothing was of consequence except the fact that she loved him…and she knew that he loved her, for all his talk of refusing to marry her because he didn't want to leave her a widow when he died…
Death was inevitable, of course, but he spoke as though it was just around the corner!
Light, men were so infuriating when they had their minds made up!
At least she knew how to act around them, unlike Elayne. The Daughter-Heir to the throne of Andor was either simpering and blushing, or cold as stone. There was no in between. Nynaeve prided herself on being able to find and maintain that in-between attitude on a regular basis.
Men were such wool-heads, even Lan, as much as she loved him. Why couldn't he see that all she wanted was to call him her own?
On the day when they became husband and wife, Nynaeve promised herself that she would dispel these notions of his soon-coming, quickly approaching death.
Lan could not possibly be thinking about death when she was in his…
Light! If I don't watch out, I'll end up simpering like Elayne!
No.
Nynaeve al'Meara did not simper. Ever.
Yet, that aside, the thought of Lan would not leave her head.
Sleep was very, very slow in coming.