Nightmares
Disclaimer: Den ar inte min. Swedish! Weird because I've been told I look Swedish…Not sure why….
A/N: And so we delve further into the misty realms of Nynaeve's past, brushing past pain, angst, love, and betrayal as we travel…Wow, I've been reading far to many bad dramatic novels! ;P
Nynaeve:
It was about four in the morning, and every sane person in Tar Valon was fast asleep. Of course, Nynaeve never claimed to be sane. She moved silently towards the stables, darting around any dry leaves or twigs that may make a noise. It had been far too long since she had ridden Ru'n, and she was sure that the horse was missing her as much as she missed it. She rounded a corner, and was directly in frount of the stables. She smiled happily. She saddled Ru'n in silence, her horse whickering softly in pleasure at seeing her again. Once they were ready, she led Ru'n quietly out the door.
She was garbed in the traditional clothes of the Dessa. Her breeches were tight, and her leather vest clung like a second skin. She wore a black long-sleeved cotton fitted shirt underneath to keep out the cold. It had been a long time since she had worn these clothes and ridden like a proper Dessa. Her first memory was of riding on horseback, the wind in her hair. Among the Dessa, a child was first put on a horse at the age of two, and that horse was always born of the horses of the child's parents. There were many customs, and Nynaeve still followed as many as she could.
When they were a suitable distance away, Nynaeve swung easily onto Ru'n and nudged him into a trot. From a trot into a canter, and then they were galloping, eating up the miles. Nynaeve's hair was blown out behind her, and she turned her face to the sky in exhilaration. This was where she was supposed to be! On the back of a horse, not sitting in a stuffy classroom, learning how to channel.
Nynaeve's likes went from one extreme to another. She would be equally thrilled if you were to give her an entire month to read all the books you could find her, or if you gave her that month to ride free on open planes.
She rose on the saddle until she was standing upright, and threw herself into the air in a summersault, coming back down to land nimbly on her feet. She laughed out loud, happily enjoying the feel of being back in the saddle. Later she would have to return to the White Tower, but for now, she didn't care.
Beale:
The man stalked angrily through the hallways, people around him scurrying off rather than be subject to one of their master's infamous rages. His hand went up to his forehead, then he snatched it back down again. He had sworn to himself never to think about the life that he had forsaken. Never to think about his son, or wife. But he did think about Nynaeve. He would have her. She would be his. He had worked too hard to loose her now. He clenched his fist to prevent himself reaching up again to touch his forehead, where his hadori once was.
Nynaeve:
Nynaeve was in a good mood the next day, which is to say, she was less temperamental than usual. She completed her classes without a word, an unusual occurrence that had more than one Aes Sedai enquiring about her health. The cause for her contentedness was her ride the night before. Her mind still lingered on it, savouring the feel. She was so busy thinking about it, that she didn't pay attention to where she was going, and crashed into something hard. She looked up. Oh dear. Someone hard.
"Are you alright?" Lan enquired, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips.
"I'll live." She retorted, irritated that the very man she had been trying to stay away from since the incident in her room, should have so rudely jerked her out of her revere. How dare he laugh at her? She continued walking in the direction she had been headed in.
"Where are you going to?" He inquired, walking alongside her for some irritating reason that was quite beyond Nynaeve's comprehension.
"The library, as a matter of fact."
"Good. I'll come with you." Nynaeve raised an eyebrow and clenched her jaw, her hand rising to her braid.
"Oh, were you headed there anyway?" She inquired, by this point more than a little frustrated. "Catching up on your reading?"
"Why not?" Lan replied, looking straight ahead, and still looking amused.
"Just what do you find so funny, al'Lan Mandragoran?" She demanded finally, her irritation exploding out.
"Did I laugh?" He queried mildly. She narrowed her eyes at him and muttered something that sounded very much like 'Woolheaded men and their bloody woolheaded ways.' Lan pushed open the door to the library, and stood politely aside to let her enter first. She glared at him as she passed. She wasn't sure why, but she was sure he deserved it anyway.
She crossed over to she bookshelves, immediately losing herself in the musty scent of the books. That was her favourite smell. Old books. It brought back memories of her mother, an avid reader, who had taught Nynaeve to read, and together they had spent hours upon hours in libraries all over the world reading.
She sighed happily as she found the book she had been looking for, and sat down in one of the many plush chairs in the Tar Valon library, and, tucking her legs underneath herself, began to read. She read for a good ten minutes before she remembered Lan, and when she looked up he was watching her, expression unreadable.
"What do you want?" She asked him sharply. She didn't like being stared at.
"How old were you when your mother died? You mentioned it in your tent when we were travelling here." Nynaeve blinked, startled. Well that certainly got straight to the point. She hadn't been expecting that.
"I was sixteen. Why?" Lan narrowed his eyes at her.
"You told the Amyrlin in Fal Dara that you were just a baby when she died." Nynaeve swore mentally.
"Ah. Well there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for that. You see…" She trailed off, racking her brain for something that would get her out of this mess. There was nothing she could think of.
"You lied?" Lan offered.
"Well, yes." He nodded. "Why?"
"That is none of your business!"
"Why is it that you reply like that to every question I ask?" Lan asked, his previous amusement returning. Nynaeve glowered at him, the got to her feet and stalked off in the direction of the shelf where she had found her book. Then, without so much as a word to Lan, she swept out of the door.
Lan leaned back in his chair and frowned. It seemed that the wilful Mistress al'Meara was more mysterious than they had previously thought.
Moiraine:
Moiraine straightened her skirts as she moved towards the room she had set out for earlier on. She had planned this very carefully. She knew that the occupant of the room would be out, as she had classes until much later on. She tiptoed through the hallway, and softly opened to door. To her surprise (although being an Aes Sedai, she didn't show it) the room was occupied. Just by someone other than the room's inhabitant.
"And what are you doing here?" She inquired of Lan, as he turned around to face her. He was seated on the edge of the bed, and appeared to be considering whether or not to do something.
"I could ask you the same question," He replied calmly.
"I'm here to finish off what I started in Fal Dara." Moiraine replied. "I didn't find anything except for more questions that night, and I'm determined to answer them." Lan nodded.
"Me too."
"Shall we begin, then?" She asked. Without waiting for an answer, she moved towards Nynaeve's desk. She opened it carefully; she knew form experience that all Accepteds' desks creaked. Inside was a large file, half open. She picked it up carefully. On the frount was written:
Damodred, Moiraine. See also: Carhien, Blue Ajah, Aes Sedai, Mandragoran Lan.
"What in the world…" She opened the file. Out fell a well-drawn picture of her. The file was filled with stacks of paper, outlining what seemed to be her entire life. The writing was underlined at certain places, and Moiraine presumed that it was cross-referencing to other files like this.
"What are you doing in my room!" The cry pierced through Moiraine's thoughts, and she and Lan whirled around to be confronted by an angry Nynaeve standing in the doorway, and glaring daggers at the pair of them…
To be continued… I know, I'm terrible! ;P. But I wanted to post this because I have to go to drama practice now, and I'll be away for a while, so I wont be able to update. So please review, it'll really make my day!
