The darkness is pervasive, seeming to seep into everything around it. Even Angharad's white Accepted's dress seems dark and stained by shadow. The Two Rivers Woman is surrounded by thirteen black robed figures, that somehow appear feminine. Angharad shakes her head, glaring at each one of the figures in turn, the shadows becoming darker as she does so. "Leave me be! I will hunt you down! You do not scare me!"

A raven flies, circles above you, a single black feather spinning and spiraling its way towards the ground. Wherever the ceiling was, its suddenly much higher. The raven settles on a hook for your cloak, hate filled eyes glowing a brimstone red. The robed figures sway, almost as though they were dancing to music that cannot be heard. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and the wind howls at the window.

*******

Meanwhile, a short distance away, if distances can truly be perceived as such in a dream, a man wearing the uniform of one of the Tar Valon Guards wanders the courtyard. He'd never admit as much awake, but in his dreams his curiosity about what lays inside the tower seems to get the better of him. Forget the fact that he somehow knows, in his dream, that whatever he imagines here will not be the true tower... So, he wanders inside, encountering no one, of course..

*******

Angharad frowns at the figures, then looks up, holding out her hand as the feather drifts down. Curious to the end, as always. Grasping the feather in her hand, Angharad shakes her head, glaring at it. Turning, the Accepted focuses on the raven now, rather than the figures that surround here. "What are you doing here, you vile thing? I have enough troubles."

"Do you? Trouble is...relative, sweetling." A disembodied voice rasps, like stone rubbed against metal. One by one, the women in robes remove their hoods. Look...study their faces. You know all of them, don't you. Almost as one, the thirteen women kneel down, staring at the ground in front of them. The raven craws from its perch, a triumphant sound. And then...HE enters. Thick silvery blonde hair is matted and twisted on his head. A hideous, perhaps disturbing grin lines his face, utilizing a mouth larger than the average man. His grin seems stuck in place, dark yellow teeth gleaming from within. His skin is almost scale-like, it appears so rough. And oddly contrasting, he wears the finest coat, heavily embroidered. A thick signet ring shimmers on his hand.

*******

Ignorant of the dangers above, for who thinks of danger in a dream?, Dorian continues his search.. though, unbeknownst to him it brings him closer and closer to said dangers. He wanders up the stairs of the tower, eventually coming to realize that here lay the apartments and quarters of the women who live here. "Sick pervert.." he mutters to himself in disgust.. yet.. his feet still take him onwards. Why? He couldn't say.. his feet take him by the Accepted dorms, and then something.. a feeling? A sound perhaps? prompts him to explore further.. all the doors look alike, yet he stop at one.. stops and presses his ear up against it to listen...

*******

Angharad puts a hand to her mouth and does her best not to scream. What a ... hideous man. Unconsciously, Angharad takes a step back, her dress turning to brown breeches and boots, forest green shirt, and brown vest; the clothes she wore when she arrived at the Tower. Upon Angharad's head is a wide brimmed hat, which does little to hide the horrified expression on her face. "Who... what... are you?" The Accepted licks her lips, fear producing a shiver that runs her whole body. Nervously, Angharad's hands clench and unclench, as if that alone could somehow protect her.

He smiles, stepping on the hands of one of the robed women. "I am yours...or you are mine. She promised me to you, just as she promised you...everything, sweetling." A slight wave of his hand, and the room...shifts. Whatever it looked like a moment ago, now it appears to be a room fit for a Queen. Oddly, the hallway outside remains the somber white stone. "You're going to be mine, Angharad." He laughs, a shrill, offensive sound. Really, quite mad. "And we will rule over the land in the name of our Master, the Great Lord of the Dark." He gestures to the woman who's fingers he's currently crushing. "Do you think your...Cavaeya, will be able to protect you? Our Mistress can snap her pesky neck with a stray thought. Whatever you think to plan, forget it. She knows. She knows everything, duckling."

*******

-Outside the door- Dorian frowns.. he hears voices, though somewhat muted.. these doors being the sturdy things they are. But Angharad's voice.. he'd never mistake that, however quiet. "Angie?" he asks quietly.. "It must be her.. but.. what's going on?" Well, only one way to find out.. The stupefied dreamwalker pushes on the door, not knowing what to expect.. but certainly not what he sees.. a lavish room where one most certainly doesn't belong. But who questions dreams? Besides.. there are far more pressing things to capture his attention.. Angharad he recognizes right off, of course, wearing good Two Rivers clothes like she is.. the women in robes, though, and that monster of a man.. Dorian gapes for a moment, then fumbles quickly for his sword. "Angie! What's goin' on?"

Angharad inhales sharply. She knows? Who knows? How much does she know? No, don't' fall for it, Angharad. It's a bluff. Angharad shakes her head quickly, frowning at the sickening man. "That old meddling Blue? Why would I want her help in the first place? Just because she seems to have decided to convert me to the ways of the Blue doesn't mean I like the attention." Angharad locks her licks, stumbling as she trips over one of the black robed figures. Angharad desperately tries to regain her balance, while trying to keep her eyes on the ... man. One hand always stays at her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. "I will not serve you. I will not serve with you. I denounce your Master, the Dark One. I am a servant of the Light." Oh, let that work... let that work! *blink* Dorian? Angharad spins, gasping. "Dori... Dorian? Oh, Light! Get out quickly! Leave! It's too dangerous!" Angharad's words are a rush of pain and anguish as she tries to rush towards her brother.

"That old meddling Blue...and the Gaidin...and you. Almost like a family." His tone becomes hard. "They are not your family. I am your family. Together, we will rule. If you do not go willingly, you can be forced. It is your weakness, after all." He begins laughing again, like a hyena with cold. "Are you a servant of the Light? What has the Light done for you? Ask yourself what She can do for you, Angharad. Sweetling. She is a kind Mistress, if you make her happy." He gestures with a hand, and the door behind Dorian is at one moment wide open, the next conveniently shut. No amount of force or will, will open it, yet. "Dorian...a pleasure to meet you." He holds a hand over his heart, that hideous grin still evident on his face. "Will you come for our wedding? Angharad would like you there, wouldn't she?" Oh yes, he seems to know who Dorian is too, Angharad. "Sweetling, your plans are for naught. She knows what you all have planned. She knows. Even the Dark has eyes where men cannot see."

Leave? Even if the choice had been left open to Dorian (which, thanks to the resident evil man, it hasn't) he'd be staying right there... Oh, sure, he's scared nearly senseless.. eyes wild and a definite tremor to his hand.. but the sword gets drawn and he takes sideways steps to bring him closer to his sister. "It's just a dream.. it's just a dream.." he keeps muttering to himself. Not bothering to realize that if he has to remind himself that it's a dream, then something is certainly wrong. "Angie.. c'mon.. we gotta get out've here.." He tries to keep his voice steady, and he almost succeeds, too. "I dunno who'y'might be, mister.. but we be Two Rivers folks, an' 'round there the lady's got 'er own say when it comes t'weddin's.. an' somehow I don'think Angie's gonna wanna go anywhere with th'likes o'you."

Angharad stumbles a bit more, trying to pass the kneeling robed figure she keeps getting tangled in. "Bloody well not!" she confirms to Dorian's comments. "Already made up my mind on that point." Grasping for her brother, to stand behind him, Angharad tries to quell his shaking, but only manages to shake herself. "I've already got m'self a betrothed, thank you," she says quietly to the sickening man. Angharad licks her lips, then looks at Dorian. "Oh, Light, I hope I just bloody dreamed you up. If I didn't, oh Light, we're in a heap o' trouble," she comments, her old twang coming back furiously. Letting her right hand fall, a loaded sling appears there, not that she realizes it. She nods towards the other man. "You can bloody well let y'r Mistress know that we Two Rivers folk don't be givin' in to the Shadow. We'll be fightin' the Dark One 'til the earth turns to ashes beneath our bloody feet."

The man sighs. The other hand goes over his heart, and his eyes close as if he were listening to a lover. "Yes, we know of...him, too." The grin that has never left his face goes now, his mouth scowling. "I am really quite disappointed...beloved." He waves a hand again, and no longer is the room a palace, but now a dungeon. Most of the robed women are gone, except for several chained against the wall. Their hoods cover them again, hunched over, held up only by the braces on their arms and legs. "Remove their hoods, Angharad. Look towards the future. Defy us, and this is how you will see events unfurl." A line of rats stand at attention against the wall, each with eyes glowing red. The cells are dank, although the room has the feel of the open cells where men are kept in the Tower. And sometimes for traitors too. Zicara was held here, for one. "My Mistress tolerates no interference, so choose wisely."

"Dream me.." *blink* That's what that /other/ woman'd said, too.. or something similar. But Dorian can't think about that now... He takes a half step and over so he's in front of Angharad, his sword transmogrifying into one of those famous longbows from home.. his uniform making a similar change to woolen browns. His eyes never leave The Man. "Angharad.. we're gonna have t'have a serious talk when this's over.." His eyes nearly bug out as the room makes the change.. and his face twists into a bit of a grimace. "Rats. Never did like 'em.. Angie.. I think it's a bit past time we got outta here.. THis guys's startin' to creep me out." Starting?? Well.. that'd be a little bit of a white lie.. Dorian's been creeped out from the start.

Angharad gasps at the man, then at the figures. Not knowing why, Angharad's feet take her over to each figure in turn. Licking her lips, Angharad can't help but pull back the hood of each one. First, Angahrad pulls back the hood on a woman, her coppery skin and blonde hair with grey mark her as Cavaeya. But the head hands limply, and there are bruises on the woman's ageless face, and no breath. The woman is dead. Angharad gasps, pulling back, startled. Angharad looks at the other two, shaking her head, "No, I don't want to see..." she comments, tears falling down her face. But her feet move on their own, taking Angharad to the next figure, a large figure. reaching up, Angharad pulls back that hood, revealing a pale-face Morcath, half the skin on his face gone. He is dead as well. Angharad screams, but again her feet move, taking her to the last figure. Closing her eyes, Angharad reaches up pulling back this hood. Darial's face appears, then promptly falls to the ground, his head severed from his body. Angharad is now free and screams loudly, backing away from the head, eyes staring in horror. "No! NO!" Putting her hands ot her face, Angharad sobs. "I've killed them. I mixed them up in this... I've killed them." Angahrad shakes her head, her tears slowing, and she turns back to Dorian, that famous Two Rivers stubbornness showing. She looks up, red eyes frown at her brother and she shakes her head. Angharad next looks to the man. "No, we are _not_ leaving. I have people to protect." Without really thinking -why- Angharad channels, lashing out at the man with hundreds of tiny, sharp pointed, weaves of Air, aimed at the man's head. Like hundreds of stinging bees attacking.

"Eaaghh!!!" The man screams, his hands flying to his face. Blood streams down from several of the 'stings' trickling down into the grooves of his skin, where the grin is still evident. As the face stretches around the grin, the blood travels in the creases, giving the man an even more hideous visage, perhaps. He flicks a hand, and then Angharad too is against the wall. Except wisely she is facing the wall. A woman cannot channel if she cannot see. He advances on her, ignoring Dorian for now. "Bad move, duckling. You haven't learned about this world yet, have you. What is possible. I know. My Mistress has trained me well." Abruptly, a knife is in his hand, elegant and ornate. "She would love me to hurt you, to break you. That's always the best." He lowers the knife closer to her back. "You killed them, Angharad. It is all because of you. You all thought you could hide your plans, but She knows. And now I too know. To trap a Darkfriend, is that what you thought? Fool. We are not all Zicara, small-minded women who flaunt our mistakes. We have power. True power." The knife continues to go closer to her back. "Who can save you? Who would want to? All you need do is ask for help, and your Mistress will save you. You do not need them. You can have anyone, anything, you imagine. Serve us...serve chaos. The Great Lord demands it." He cackles again, hoarsely. At this close, Angharad could likely smell his breath. An offensive stench, even in this place. "Who will save you, Angharad? They're all dead, you killed them. Who is left?"

Creator above.. this is about the worst nightmare Dorian has ever been in.. Never once does he stop to consider the fact that this.. man, this creature is likely ignoring him because Dorian poses little to no threat.. "Angie.. don't listen to 'im.. this's just a dream!" He tries to say that rather forcefully as he slides an arrow onto his string, then draws it back to his cheek. "He's th'one who's killin' 'em, not you! Only way t'stop it's t'fight 'im!" Dorian knows that that could mean the death of one, or both.. but.. death, it's preferable to the shadow, isn't it? "Fight 'im!" Then the arrow's released.. Dorian's had time to get a good bead on the man's neck.. short range, powerful bow, that oughta do the trick, right? Of course.. Dorian doesn't pause to consider that this guy likely has defenses against such mundane attacks..

Angharad screams in outrages as she is suddenly chained against the wall. She does stop weaving, or course, as she can't see where she is weaving anymore. Thrashing against the chains that hold her there, Angharad tries to turn around, to look at the man, despite his sickening stench. "Let me go, you fiend! I ... No! I will not serve you! I will not cry for help!" Oh, Light, Dorian, help her anyway! Angharad can't see what you are doing. Angahrad glances up at the chains for a moment then shakes her head. Curse her weakness in Earth.

Ahh, but arrogance often bars the need for defenses. And as it is with your host for this evening. The arrow flies true, and head and body are separated. The room abruptly returns to a typical Accepted's dorm, the bodies are released, and Angharad is free of the chains. Of course, there is the matter of the dead body on the ground. From...somewhere, you feel the Power being woven, Air and Fire, a simple, tiny weave. "Even in the World of Dreams, death is final. Wash the blood from your hands if you can, both of you." And then, nothing. Silence pervades.

Dorian blinks.. now, he's never killed a man before, never seen one shot with an arrow.. but he certainly didn't expect that. But.. there's little time to dwell on that.. only now is he beginning to question just how much of this is dream and how much is real. "Angie!" He drops the bow, and it disappears before it even touches the ground.. he notices not as he rushes to her. "Angie.. y'all right? Please say you're a'right.."

A dark stain can be seen forming around a slit in the back of Angharad's shirt. Then abruptly Angharad is in her Accepted's dress again, red forming around the back. The chains disappear, and Angharad falls to the ground with a thud. "Channeling... someone... " Angharad winces as she tries to sit up. She looks over at the man and gasps. "Awful ma...." Suddenly Angharad is gone.

Angharad wakes with a start, and winces as she sits up. Putting a hand to her back, Angahrad gasps as she sees blood on her fingers. Getting up as best she can, Angharad stumbles out of her room.

Aes Sedai Living Quarters: White Tower, Tar Valon

The walls appear to be covered in various tapestries and banners, each bearing the color and telling the tale of a different Ajah, perhaps how they were even started. There are several small tables about this area, where you might see figurines, floral arrangements or other various articles used to decorate the hallway.

If it were not for the fresh smell of flowers floating up from the room below, you might not even know it was spring. This area appears to be a bustle of activity, as Aes Sedai, Accepted and Novices pass each other, walking up and down the ramp, either heading for lessons or retrieving something from their room.

Several hallways and corridors branch along this area. You'll also notice that a ramp heads up and down leading to other areas of the Tower. There are several doorways within each hallway, that you can see. All halls within this area appear to be carpeted for the Ajah that they represent.

Contents:

Morcath

Obvious exits:

Infirmary Aes Sedai Residents Ramp Down Ramp Up

Angharad slowly stumbles down the hallway, one hand trailing a bit of blood on the wall. Finally, her legs give out and Angharad falls to the ground, her eyes narrowing with a wince of pain. There is a growing stain of red on the back of the Accepted's white dress.

Morcath walks out the door, turning his back and saying to someone inside, "I'll be right back, just downstairs for a moment. Sure, I can bring you something sweet." He smiles slightly and turns, closing the door behind him. He stops dead when he spots Angharad and then rushes to her. "Angharad!" He gently pinches your neck to get your attention. "Angharad! Can you hear me?"

Angharad winces, groaning in pain. Angharad shakes her head, the color slowly draining from her face. "Nightmare... dead. All dead..." she mumbles.

Morcath frowns and gently pats your cheek. "Angharad! Open your eyes now... look at me." He does a quick check and then says, "I'm going to carry you to the infirmary. You're bleeding. Can i lift you up?"

Angharad opens one eye, then stares at Morcath. She inhales deeply, and fear is written all over her face. Weakly, Angharad reaches up to pat a side of Morcath's face, sighing with relief finding that it is indeed truly there. Then the hand flops back and Angharad nods. "I hurt."

In the hall, Morcath kneels, holding Angharad in his arms. The Accepted's color is pale, not a very good shade of gray at all. One hand is covered with blood, while red seems to be staining the back of her white dress.

Nata is coming down the hallway from the yellow wing of the Tower. On seeing the two, she quickens her pace and extends one hand to place it on the girl, already delving her as she touches. Only a few brief words does the Aes Sedai speak. "What happened?"

Morcath turns as Nata exits. "I don't know, Sedai. I came from my room to go downstairs and this is what greeted me. She murmured something about them being all dead. I don't know who she means." He moves out of Nata's way, but just to the other side of the Angharad. He does not plan on being too far from her side unless he's ordered so.

Angharad shivers, despite being so weak. It's always like that with the One Power. Angharad whimpers, shaking her head as she does so.

Nata does not hesitate but immediately works on stopping the bleeding and mending what is wrong. "Gaidin, it is urgent we find out what happened and where and why. If she was wounded like this, likely here on the grounds or in the tower, would not have been able to come too far, and if attacked, the person or persons are still present. Child, you must tell us about this and tell now."

The flash of a white dress is seen between the big Gaidin and Nata Sedai. The Aes Sedai is delving Angahrad, examining here wound or wounds. Angharad, shivers, though, and she's nearly as pale as her dress.

Morcath nods and says, "I will find out what happened, Sedai." He nods and rises, heading off without a care for those unfortunates who may be in his way. He heads down the ramp.

So this is what meets the eyes when Rhynne gains the top step. She knows better than to interfere with a Healing, but she does get close enough to recognize that the victim is Angharad. "Looks like Dorian was right.." she offers mildly.

Dorian hurries up the ramp, barely dodging out of the Gaidin's way.. still, he pays the man no heed.. he's got bigger concerns at the moment. He's not hurried so much that he's lost his escort, but at the sight of Nata beside the Accepted, who Dorian assumes is Angharad, he rushes towards them. "Angie! Oh light.. this can't be happening.." He doesn't know how bad the wound is.. and it may not be severe.. but he sounds horror stricken nonetheless.

Angharad inhales sharply as Dorian comes running up. Her eyes open and she stares at Dorian. "You... you were really there. You... you were really in ... that awful dream?" whispers the Accepted to her brother.

Nata ignores the others while she works steadily on the wound, the more critical aspects being the first healed and then the more minor. Work seems to be taking more effort than the yellow usually has to expend.

"I guess I was..." Dorian admits.. well, if Angharad is talking, she must be doing better than he'd feared.. when she disappeared like that, he didn't know what to think. He gets as close as he can.. but takes the cue from Rhynne and doesn't get so close as to interfere. He can afford a quick, thankful smile towards her now that the need for haste is over.. and so he does so.. but his attention is all for Angharad. "I.. Angie, the cut.. is it.....? " He can't bring himself to finish the question.

"Painful? Yes... but... I think I"ll manage." Angharad sighs, shaking her head, tears forming in her eyes again. "Oh, Light, Dori... did... did you see? They... they died, because I had to ... pretend I was something ... I wasn't." Angharad starts to sob, even as she shivers from the Healing.

Nata speaks in a cool firm tone. "you do into seem shocked by this, and in fact, you seem....expecting it. You will tell me what is going on...now."

Rhynne returns Dorian's smile with a slight one of her own, then glances down to Angharad as she speaks. Her ex-friend-for-now certainly has been acting as someone she's not, of that Rhynne's been too acutely aware lately. But she defers to Nata in silence.

So caught up was he in Angharad's plight, Nata's demand doesn't register with Dorian immediately. It takes a few seconds, then he blinks and looks at her. Was she talking to him? He quickly knuckles his forehead... "M'pardons, Aes Sedai.." For that's what she must be, right? "I got.. well I'm..." Right, like she's going to believe that he saw it happen in a dream. "I just knew, Aes Sedai.. we're.. twins." Maybe Nata's one of those folk who puts stock in that mythical connection some twins claim to have? "Um.. I.. Hey, Angie, c'mon.. they ain't dead.. saw one of 'em.. " Morcath.. "leave just now t'look for somethin'."

Angharad sighs, nodding to Dorian, stretching her back and winces. "Ow. Still hurts," comments the Accepted weakly. Then she looks over at Nata, giving the Aes Sedai a weak smile. Better let Dorian explain this one. He wouldn't believe her if she tried, anyway.

Nata looks toward Rhynne and Dorian. "This will not heal completely. It is not a natural wound. Put her in the third bed in the infirmary, please." It is more an order than a request.

"I am relie-" Rhynne begins to speak to her fellow Accepted, but when the Yellow places her order, for indeed it was one, she looks quickly to Nata and nods. "Yes, Nata Sedai.." Light, Ang, please be cooperative! Well, probably since Dorian's here, she will..

It almost seems like Dorian was just waiting on the word.. in a moment he's at Angharad's side, helping her sit up. He might be strong enough to carry her, but he's no idea how far to go.. and doing so would promise him lots of pain in the form of his limp. "Here, Angie.. think y'can walk? I'll carry you if y'don't think so..."

Angharad shakes her head, smiling at Dorian. "Just give me a hand. It'll do you no good to stress your leg," she comments, wincing as she tries to stand. "Bloody and blasted bloody ashes, but I hope this is the end of it!" grumbles the Accepted through gritted teeth.

Rhynne moves to Angharad's side and offers, "Lean on me if you need to, Ang.." Despite it all, she still has a few caring bones..and there /was/ that letter..

Dorian drapes one of Angharad's arms around his shoulders, then, with Rhynne's help, pulls Angharad to her feet. "Guess I'm headed for th'infirmary after all..."

Nata moves into the infirmary, calling ahead for one of the novices working there to turn the bed down and cover it with a towel till the bloody garment can be removed and a gown put on...sparing a full linen change.

Nata opens the door and enters the infirmary.

Angharad arches an eyebrow at Dorian through a wince. "What's that supposed to mean? Insisted I was in my room, didn't you?" Angharad shakes her head, turning back to face the door to the infirmary with a determined expression. "Why would I make you run up all that way?" Angharad winces again. Her left side is decidedly sore. Then she glances at Rhynne and sighs. "Thank you, Rhynne," she says softly as she is lead into the infirmary.

Infirmary: White Tower, Tar Valon(#1969RJMz$)

The infirmary is an irregular shaped room of a large size. The straightest wall is the outside wall to the west where a row of long-legged beds, some with primitive rails and binding straps, are spaced evenly. The bed legs are set in glasses, and the glasses set in pans of vinegar to keep insects from joining patients in bed, and to help control the various unsavory odors associated with infirmaries. Beside each bed is a portable privacy screen, simple ladder-back chair, a hook for clothing and a small square table with a lamp and needed supplies.

The inner, east wall has recesses created from areas between rooms on the other side of the wall, or taking up part of the other rooms' space. Some are lined with storage shelves for linen, gowns, personal supplies, and splints and bandages for wounds to old to be healed. A tub and sluice, privy station with lovely chamber-pots novices detest cleaning, a treatment area, and spots for soaking or prewashing nasty laundry occupy other niches.

People suffering from overexertion, spring floods, and gardening injuries keep the infirmary busy. Windows are opened slightly to permit spring breezes to help freshen the air. Afternoon light streams through the windows to paint pale squares on bare wood floors between the beds.

A simple wooden door along the narrowest wall leads out into the hallway.

<There are places here. '+help places'>

<There are +views here. '+help view'>

Contents:

Nata

Journal of Tursa Sedai(#2509V$)

Obvious exits:

Hallway

"I've never seen anyone with such determination as your brother, Ang," Rhynne laughs shortly. "I almost thought I would have to shield him to prevent him from dashing up to the rooftops, totally bypassing our level.."

Nata is standing where she can overhear but is not obvious about it. Seems she is doing some of the necessary paperwork involved in such incidents. A casual wave of the hand seems to indicate for the others to help the Accepted.

Dorian's cheeks burn a little bit.. now that the crisis is somewhat lessened, the need to be there passed, he feels no amount of embarrassment at his behavior. "Yeah.. was goin' for your room.. your um.. friend here.. she was gonna take me to th'infirmary to look for y'there.." *sigh* Oh well, all's well that ends well, right? So.. third bed was it?

Angharad chuckles weakly, nodding to Dorian. "Is that so? Think you could have found it?" asks Angharad, before looking at Rhynne and nodding. "Thanks again, Rhynne." As the Accepted is taken to the bed, she sighs deeply as she sits down on the pad. "Dorian, there are many things I need to apologize to you about." Then she looks to Rhynne, "And you too. I just don't know how to go about it."

Rhynne arches a brow at Angharad. "Is it..over then, Ang?" she ventures tentatively. Angharad knows full well of what she speaks.

Nata seems to have little change of expression yet there is not doubting she is making mental notes. She continues to silently fiddle with he records required to be kept by the ajah.

After Angharad's tucked away onto the infirmary bed, Dorian steps back a half-step, rocking a bit on his heels. "If y've somethin' t'pologize t'me 'bout, Angie.. it c'n wait.." His tone, however, is skeptical.. he hasn't seen her in so long, and now only for a short time, that he has no idea what she would apologize for. He glances at Rhynne.. questioningly.. then back at Angharad.. whatever that's about, he decides to leave it between them. Which leads his gaze to the working Aes Sedai.. he's growing a little less fearful of them, perhaps. Or perhaps it was just concern for his sister..

Angharad glances over at Dorian and sighs. "I've b'n keepin' secrets from ya', Dorian... " Angharad sighs, laying her head back on the pillow, her eyes looking over at Nata. "But you're right. It c'n wait. Ain't no need to go blabberin' things that d'nt need said yet." It's just so easy for her to slide into the old accent, that Angharad doesn't even notice anymore. It just happens.

"She's had to.." Rhynne nods wanly at the Accepted's twin. "From all of us..and for good reason, according to her." Then she turns to Angharad and smiles a bit. "But no need to discuss it now, Ang..there'll be plenty of time for that.."

Angharad gives both Rhynne and Dorian a weak smile as they leave, though Dorian she seems more sad to loose. Angharad holds his hand for a moment, afraid that letting go means he wont' come back, then sighs at the silly notion and releases Dorian. Licking her lips, Angharad gives nods as her goodbye, then places her hands in her lap.

Nata moves over toward the bed as the others leave. A tray is being brought for the customary healthy appetite after any sort of healing. "Secrets, and things not told. From the looks of the wound, such secrets can kill you and from the way it does not heal, is not natural. Such secrets need to be shared before they kick you in the teeth and give nasty surprises to others as well." It is clear she has decided something to herself, perhaps reached her own conclusions, yet she leaves it to the Accepted to organize what she says and how.

Angharad eyes the Aes Sedai warily, as she reaches for some bread and drink. "Some secrets don't need to be flung about wildly, either. Sometimes arousing suspicions and fears is the effect that is desired. Sometimes, one needs to be careful." Angharad frowns. Here, she's starting it again. Light help this Accepted. Trying -not- too look like she is ravenous, Angharad bites into the bread and takes a drink.

Nata says "So you wish to have me be suspicious of you, and fear your motives and the consequences of your actions or inactions ...though be they to yourself or others?....How interesting."

Angharad grumbles into a bite of bread. Swallowing it down, then drinking some more water, Angharad frowns flatly at Nata. "There are some things, Aes Sedai, that people don't want to talk about and shouldn't talk about. Take it as you will, I don't care." Okay, that's a lie, but still.

Nata says "There are some things that a person should and must talk about, especially things when one is an accepted that appear to be on the verge of causing their death." Blunt she can be when she must. "You think it is a joy to me to find one of my students in the condition you were? You think it is none of our business ? Some things, Child" She treats one like a child when to her they seem to behave as one "leave the area of acceptable secrets. Place yourself in the shoes of one who will possibly be in my position and facing one who may be in yours." She speaks logically. "You should know by now, the years of knowing me and knowing of me, that I am discrete.""

Angharad frowns just a bit, glancing off towards a window, before picking up an apple and tossing it into the air before catching it. "I have been the ... target of some recruitment, Nata Sedai. I laid a trap, to catch the person. It all started with nightmares, Nata Sedai. Nightmares that somehow drew me into the World of Dreams. It... it happened again. Somehow they managed to bring Dorian with me, I think. But I do not even begin to understand the ways of that. The man is ... dead. Must assuredly so. Now, just to find his body..." Angahrad sighs, looking at the apple, then takes a bite out of it. Bloody hunger.

Nata nods once. 'I thought it must have been in TAR. I have seen a wound like this before. Though it has been a long long time. As for recruiting you, that needs heed paid to it. You were drawn into TAR or approached in your dreams? Have you learned to ward yourself?"

Angharad frowns, setting the finished apple aside, picking up her drink. "Aye, Aes Sedai. I have. But, as I have said, I have been laying a trap, hoping to draw them out." Angharad flops back for a moment with a sigh. "But now that this is bloody over... I can use the ward."

Nata shakes his head. "And you did not let mother know, so she could assist you? Provide you back up if it were possible? Or even offer her the option of trying to stop you, protect you."

Angharad frowns at Nata, narrowing her eyes. "I went and found help. But not to Mother, no. Both the Aes Sedai I talked to, and myself agreed that giving the recent ... incidents in the Tower. Now, was not the time to bother Mother. That this was something we could do on our own. And before you even begin to cast doubt, don't. The Aes Sedai I went to is trustworthy."

Nata nods, marginally reassured. "May I know who they were, please?" I will need to indicate discretely that they were aware and supervised your actions in order to forestall others of the ajah prying into your situation too deeply."

Angharad sighs, hanging her head and nodding. "Cavaeya. Not a word to anyone else. I still don't want anyone knowing that I visit her willingly."

Nata nods once. "I shall simply say you were overseen and if any have need to question, ask me then. I could not write that till I 'knew'" Of course she could not, it was to necessary to be truth.

Angharad frowns, and grabs the remaining sweetcake off the tray. "I hate telling secrets," she mumbles. "It's too bloody dangerous." Suddenly, Angharad is fighting back a sob. Inhaling slowly, deeply, the woman closes her eyes, finally letting it go after a moment.

Nata reaches over to lay one hand on Angharad's shoulder, a gentle, reassuring touch, and one that will become a hug if it is not rejected.

Angharad blinks at the Aes Sedai, then throws her arms around the woman, sobbing. "Oh, Light... I've gotten too many people involved in this already... Oh, Light... I've... what have I done?"

Nata sits on the bed and simply draws Angharad closer , offering comfort and support. She does not speak, letting her talk out her feelings.

Angharad can't help it. All the feelings she has been bottling up inside, hiding from the rest of the world come out. "I put everyone in danger, all because I had to catch a darkfriend. I had make myself the target... I didn't care what those around me would think. I didn't care what those who wanted to protect me would think. I ... i put them in danger... and they _knew_! Oh, Light! They _KNEW_ everything..."

Nata rocks the young woman in her arms, listening, careful with her. "Who knew" She asks very very softly, trying to help, trying to be gentle and to not stop the flow of words.

Nata keeps the girl in her arms, comforting till the effects of the healing catch up to her and she drowses off to sleep. Nata lets her lay back gently against the pillows and stands, shaking her head slowly as she pulls covers up. Speaking to the novice she says. "She will be here several days, see she is kept plenty of food and not too many visitors. " As the novice nods, the Yellow Sister moves on to the remainder of tasks she has set for herself the day.