Nightmares

Disclaimer: Δεν είναι ορυχείο. Greek! Do these little symbols show up when you upload chapters? I don't know. Hope so.

A/N: How did we get here you ask? I'm skipping, is my reply. Bad bad me, but yeah. We have skipped.

Nynaeve:

Nynaeve pulled her cloak more tightly around herself as she hurried down the street. While she knew that this was a dangerous situation, and that she should be afraid for Egwene, she couldn't help the exhilaration that flowed through her. This was what she had been trained to do. She mentally assessed one plan after another; discarding, modifying. She shivered in excitement.

Beale:

She had slipped through his fingers again! He was going to kill her for this. He smiled wryly. Luckily, he had some contacts that knew some things. He turned back to Liandrin.

"Falme, you say?"

Nynaeve:

Nynaeve hugged Egwene tightly as they stood watching Moiraine heal Rand.

"He'll live," he said.

"Oh, that's helpful," Nynaeve muttered under her breath. Moiraine's eyebrows shot up.

"I'm not the one who ran away from the White Tower."

"Liandrin tricked us!" Egwene exclaimed. Nynaeve and Moiraine both turned in shock. Egwene never questioned the word of an Aes Sedai. Ever.

"Looks like your little pet is growing teeth," Nynaeve put in mockingly. Moiraine glowered at her and Nynaeve sighed.

"Never mind. I'm leaving." She turned around and stalked off.

The chilly air tugged at her clothes, penetrating the thick layer of wool. She drew her cloak closer, but it didn't make much difference. She attempted to ignore the cold, like she had been taught, but she was too angry. Suddenly she noticed footfalls behind her getting closer and closer. Eventually a hand grabbed at her arm and spun her around.

It would be him, wouldn't it? Typical. Just typical.

"What do you want?" she demanded. Lan watched her silently.

"You're cold." He began to pull down the sleeves that she had rolled up. He stopped and frowned when he came across the scar on the inside of her arm.

"I tripped and fell as a child," she lied, pulling her arm free, and tugging down the sleeves herself. She stopped as she became aware of another person approaching them, and turned back around; only to be greeted by the last face she wanted to see. Fear took hold of her, and she prepared to run. Not good, not good! The man smiled at her.

"Hello, Nynaeve. It's been to long." Nynaeve tried to turn away, but found that she couldn't move. He was channeling. Lan moved closer to her side, and gave the man a cool look.

"Ah. And who, might I inquire, is your friend?" The man asked, looking Lan over disdainfully.

"Go away," Nynaeve said, barely audible.

"Excuse me? Nynaeve, are you all right?" he asked, seemingly concerned. "Would you like me to take you back to wherever it is that you're staying?" Nynaeve's eyes widened in alarm, and Lan stepped forward.

"I believe she asked you to go away," he said, resting his hand meaningfully on his sword hilt. The man glanced at him scornfully, and then looked back at Nynaeve.

"I wouldn't mind taking you," he offered. Nausea spread through her. This could not be happening. He couldn't be here. Not again. She squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them again, hoping against hope that this was a dream. He was still there, looking down at her, smiling slightly.

"Get away from me, you murderer!" She snarled at him, straining against the invisible binds that held her in place.

"Nynaeve! What are you talking about? I think you must be ill." He turned to Lan. "I don't know what's wrong with her, but she is obviously not well. Let me take her back to the inn she's staying at. I'll look after her. We're old friends, her and I." Lan frowned as if considering. Nynaeve gasped in alarm.

"No! Lan, don't listen to him! He's lying!"

"I assure you, all I want to do is help."

"Oh really! Where was your help when you ordered Trollocs to kill your family? Where was your help when you…" he slapped her hard across the face.

"Shut up you little whore!" he hissed. Lan sprang forward in an instant, not bothering to draw his sword. He grabbed the man by the collar, and flung him against the wall. He unsheathed his sword, and pointed it at his throat.

"What under the Light is going on here?" Moiraine demanded, stepping up to them. Beale took his chance. He leaped forward, knocking over Moiraine, Nynaeve, and Lan, and ran off. Lan climbed to his feet, and helped Moiraine up. She directed a look his way. A look that clearly said, 'I have no idea what just happened, or why, but if someone doesn't tell me very soon, I am going to hurt someone'. Moiraine was very good at those looks. Egwene hurried over to Nynaeve who sat motionless on the ground.

"Nynaeve? Are you all right?" Nynaeve did not move. Elayne moved over too, and worriedly watched her. Nynaeve looked up absently.

"Hmm? Yes, I'm fine." She got up unsteadily, shaking slightly. "I'm just going to return to the inn. I feel slightly ill." She set off on shaky legs with Elayne and Egwene close behind. Moiraine tuned to Lan.

"Is it just me, or was that a tall, scary looking man with a scar down the right side of his face?" Lan nodded and grimly looked off in the direction that he had gone in.

xxx

Nynaeve stumbled into a corner and began retching. How could he be here? I thought I'd never have to see him again. Oh Light, I have to leave. She pulled herself to her feet, and, still shaking, set off to her room. When she arrived, she hastily grabbed a bag and began piling things onto the bed. Knife, herbs, food. She mentally ran through the things that she'd need.

"What do you think you're doing?" A voice inquired. She clenched her fists irritably.

"Packing," she continued to pile. Why did he always arrive at the most inconvenient of times?

"You're not going anywhere. Now there are a lot of questions that you've raised for all of us, and you're going to answer them." The hard determination in his voice told her that he wasn't taking no for an answer. She turned slowly to face him.

"I'll answer them." She hadn't the strength to argue anymore. She sank down onto the bed, resting her head in her hands. She felt him sit down gently beside her.

Lan:

"What was that?" he asked her. "It the square. Who was that man, and why did you say what you did?" She looked up.

"I'll answer. But you must give me your word that you will not breathe a word of this. To anyone." He nodded.

"I swear." She sighed. Where to begin?

"My father died when I was eight. My mother grieved for two years, and then met another. He was from Malkier, at least his parents were. They escaped before the Seven Towers fell. He became our new father. We couldn't have hoped for a kinder, more loving substitute. He treated us as if we were his own, and we came to love him as we had our real father." Nynaeve's voice trembled, and Lan nodded in encouragement.

"He…on my fifteenth nameday, he and I went out that evening. Father-daughter bonding, he called it." Tears welled in her eyes, and Lan watched her silently. She looked up at him.

"I've never told anyone -excepting my family of course- of this. It's difficult. Living it was difficult enough, but repeating it…" she shuddered. Lan tentatively reached out and took her hand. She could not explain why it comforted her. Maybe it was because it was so rough against her smooth skin, or because it was so large that it completely enveloped her own. Or because it was his hand. Any way, it reassured her.

"That evening I discovered that he could channel. A male channeler, destined to go mad. Already mad. I tried to fight back, I did, but he had me trapped. I couldn't move, or even speak. He…I couldn't stop him…" she trailed off, tears now freely streaming down her cheeks, but Lan understood. Anger burned in his eyes, and his hand went to his sword, as if Beale were in the room with him. Already his usually dormant temper had fired up, and he was mentally planning a lot of messy, long, and painful deaths for Nynaeve's "father".

"It continued for a while," she went on, "and he got madder and madder. No one had a clue as to it, though. Until almost exactly a year later, the night of my sixteenth nameday. He and my mother had an argument. I took note of it, because they never usually fought. They yelled, and then he hit her. I don't know why, it would have caused him pain through the bond, but by that time he was almost completely mad." Lan frowned.

"The bond?"

"I may have forgotten to mention that. She, my mother, was an Aes Sedai. He was her Warder." Lan blinked.

"Channeling is genetic," he murmured softly. She nodded ruefully.

"The next day I was outside reading. My mother sensed them coming. She yelled at me to get into the house. She told him to help her fight them off, but he just stood there, watching. Other Aes Sedai in the area arrived. They were all defeated and killed. There were one hundred, maybe one hundred and fifty Trollocs. He shielded her. From that point on, it was pointless. More Aes Sedai were supposed to arrive, but they never did. I've never forgiven them for that. My baby brother, only a year old, was brought out. They forced my mother to watch as they skinned him alive. Then they tore her limb from limb. They burned both the bodies. I was watching at the window. I saw it all. I ran immediately. I grabbed my things. The Trollocs approached me. That was when I first channelled. They weren't expecting it," she smiled grimly.

"I went and lived with my uncle for a few years, and then…I did some things that needed to be done." She had told enough already, she did not need to reveal the truth behind her profession.

"I came to the Two Rivers a few years later. And then you and Moiraine arrived." Now he understood. Why she had had so much fear in her eyes when she first saw him. Why she couldn't stand the smell of cooking meat. Why she hated Aes Sedai and feared Warders. He squeezed her hand gently. She sat, sobbing silently. He got up softly, and left the room. She needed to be alone.

Wow, hard chapter to write, but I hope I did okay:X. Reviews much appreciated. Hopeful smile.