Title: Tilting at Windmills
Disclaimer: All characters are someone else's property, they don't belong to me, and I'm not making any money off of this, so please don't sue me. College is very expensive.

A/N : This takes place before the books start, and is a mixture of Lews Therin's memories and Rand al'Thors. The sections are divided as follows.

Italics Dream
Bold Flashback to Lews Therin
Normal Script Rand's memories

He was running.
He didn't know from what, all he knew was that if he stopped, he would die. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something he was supposed to remember, but it wasn't important. All that was important was getting away from the terror reaching out to him with jagged claws.

Lews Therin, please, don't...
Suddenly he was in a sunlit hall, the walls buckling under tremendous strain. A woman was backing away from him, her eyes wide with fear, two small children peeking out from behind her wide skirts, large blue eyes begging for something...

It took a swipe at him, and he could feel blood pouring from the open wound. Limping, his side burning, he kept running, but the creature was still to far behind, but it wouldn't be that way for long.

"Another Papa"
Tam laughed as the boy leaning against his leg asked for another story. Reaching down, he ruffled the red hair, looking deep into the gray eyes of his child. "Only if you go to bed straight away," he said, chuckling when the boy darted to the small palette on the floor, pulling the heavy blanket up to his chin.

She dropped lifelessly from his hands, little more than a rag doll, the soft fluttering of her hands against his own long gone. In a daze Lews Therin looked at the woman in his arms, trying to remember who she was. He vaguely remembered her laugh, something about children, but quickly dismissed it. Releasing his grip on her neck, he watched as her form dropped to the floor next to two younger ones, their sightless eyes staring at him in condemnation. For what he couldn't remember…

"Hold the flame, Rand."
The teenage boy looked in exacerbation at his father, once again drawing back on the bow in his hands, trying to line up the target. In his mind the void shivered, stretched, engulfing him and everything around him. The target was so clear...
"What in the name of Ashgan are you doing?"
Rand looked up, blinking to clear the mist from his eyes. Looking at his father, he was surprised at the amount of anger he saw in his eyes.
"What happened?"
Tam sighed, moving forward and taking his sons hand in his own, lifting it to reveal the jagged slash that cut across his fingers.
"Another stunt like that and you'll never be able to draw a bow again."
Rand looked down at the remains of his bow. Made of stout wood, it would normally take someone twice his size to do the kind of damage he saw. The more he looked, the more the wood resembled something that had been melted and reshaped...

"Will you love me forever?"
Lews Therin laughed at the urgent sound in the voice of the woman next to him. Silken black hair brushed his arm as she rose to look at him, silver eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Will you?"
Therin smiled, lifting a hand to cup her cheek gently, "Of course."

It was closer now, so close he could feel its breath burning his skin. Safety lay just ahead, a shining beacon in the darkness...

Rand, you have to wake up

"Why wont you answer me?"
Lews Therin watched the woman pacing back and forth, arms folded and faced flushed in her agitation. An unusual sight to see, for all her normally cool beauty. A beauty that had once tempted him to fly in the face of his training, his obligations. Now it paled in the face of another, a golden light to her darkness...

He was panting, trying to grasp the half-heard whispers of his nightmares. A gentle hand on his shoulder calmed him.

"Its alright, Rand," his father said, gently pushing him back down on the furs that served as blankets for them both during the harsh winter months. "Just a nightmare. It'll be gone in the morning."
Nodding his head in assent, Rand tried to fall asleep, all the while a sickening feeling grew in the pit of his stomach that it wasn't really a dream.


Okay, that's it. Like it? Hate it? Think I should be taken out and shot? Let me know, I can even take flames. Feedback is greatly appreciated and damn near worshiped.