Nightmares

Disclaimer: Det er ikke min. Especially for neela, it is Norwegian! (Sorry if it is not perfect, I used a web page that translates, and I don't speak Norwegian, so I don't know if it is right!).

Lan:

He walked briskly down the hallway, trying to make sense of his thoughts. I will hate the man you choose because he is not me, and love him if he makes you smile. That's what I said! So why couldn't he just accept the fact that she had moved on. He had told her to! So why did he feel like this?

During the Trolloc attack he had been so worried about her, only to see that man protecting her. He sighed and stopped to look through an arrowlslit at the courtyard. Presently, he felt eyes on him, and turned around. It was the very woman who had been occupying his thoughts. She whirled as if leave, and he called after her.

"Nynaeve." She froze. "I wanted to speak to you alone. You always seem to be in the woman's apartments, or in company." His company, he added silently. She turned to face him, her expression calm.

"I'm looking for Rand. We said all we need to say long ago, you and I. I shamed myself—which I will not do again—and you told me to go away." Go away?

"I never said—" He caught himself in time. "I told you I had nothing to offer for brideprice but widow's clothes. Not A gift any man could give a woman. Not a man who can call himself a man."

"I understand." Her tone was infuriatingly cool. "Have you seen Rand? I need to talk to him. He went to see the Amyrlin. Do you know what she wanted with him?" Did she spend time practicing being aggravating? It seemed like it. He realised he was glaring at her, and she glared back.

"That man." He said shortly.

"Which one?"

"You know who I'm talking about." For some reason she looked amused, and her glare disappeared.

"Corby?" She asked, her face all innocence and blithe.

"Yes," he ground out that one syllable through clenched teeth.

"What about him?" He felt like he was going to explode.

"Do you love him?" Somehow it came out more gently than he would have expected.

"Of course." Lan took a step backwards, driven there by the pain that for some reason was caused by that simple statement.

"He's an old friend," she continued, "I love him like a brother." What? A brother?

"A brother?" He said out loud.

"Yes. A brother." He felt like a giant weight had bee lifted off his shoulders, but suddenly his pain was replaced by anger.

"Now," Nynaeve asked, "Have you seen Rand? I want to know what the Amyrlin Seat..." He cut her off.

"The Dark One take Rand al'Thor and the Amyrlin Seat both," he grated, and pressed the object he had been toying with all day into her hand. "I will make you a gift, and you will take it if I have to chain it around your neck."

She looked down into her hand. He saw her take it in. It took less than a second for that flicker of recognition to appear in her eyes. She raised them again.

"I cannot take this, Lan." Her voice was soft. He tried to look offhand.

"It is nothing. Old, and useless now. But there are those who would know it when they saw it. Show that, and you will have guestright, and help if you need it, from any lord in the Borderlands. Show it to a Warder and he will give aid, or carry a message to me. Sent it to me, or a message marked with it, and I will come to you without delay and without fail. This I swear." He could have sworn he saw tears in the corners of her eyes.

"I can't… I do not want a gift from you, al'Lan Mandragoran." She attempted to give it back to him, but he fended off her attempts. He grabbed her hands, enveloping them firmly.

"Then take it for my sake, as a favour to me. Or throw it away, if it displeases you. I've no better use for it." He gently bushed her cheek with one of his fingers, and marvelled at how smooth her skin was.

"I must go now, Nynaeve mashiara. The Amyrlin wishes to leave before midday, and there is much yet to be done. Perhaps we will have time to talk on the journey to Tar Valon." And then he walked off.

Why had he called her that; mashiara? Beloved of heart and soul, but a love lost beyond regaining.

xxx

Corby:

Corby watched from the shadows, pondering this encounter. Nynaeve wasn't one to fall for a man easily, especially not after what had happened. But a Warder? He had seen her around other Warders, and she was scared stiff. He sighed, and accepted that she really must love him.

Another favourite scene! But I stuck the little dialogue about Corby into the middle for fun. :D