#lanfear fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cxsmiicc · 7 months ago

Text

dead broke and broken hearted - lanfear x female dragon

first wot fic so sorry if anythings inaccurate and whatnot, had sm fun writing this uhhh yeah!!

5.8k words, ao3 link in title

smut, fluffy aftercare, choking, mistress kink if you squint, fingering, eating out, wlw ofc, think thats it??

Waiting. The innkeeper act left plenty to fill the hours, but that was secondary to this. To the Dragon. Ellyse, as she was now known. Had Lews Therin been reincarnated a man once again her job would be far easier, though notably less fun, she supposed idly. Seduction had hardly been her original plan for turning her to the Dark, but that first - and second - look she had given ‘Selene’ was enough to solidify it as the best option. It had been delightful to learn that it would scarcely take much on her part to slip between the poor girl’s sheets, she was short of coin the very first week in Cairhien. Light allusions and a lingering look aimed at her chest coloured her cheeks faintly pink and encouraged embarrassed mutterings, but her eyes were alight with the idea; so like his had been she almost had to turn away. In the progressing weeks it was made clear that Ellyse and Lews Therin were both more alike and different than she knew, from the creases around her eyes when she smiled heartachingly similar, to the things that led to that smile flipped entirely on their head. Where he led, she was content to follow, though not without ensuring choice words made their way to whoever was in charge; his pride was her insecurity. That could be worked on, it simply wouldn’t do to have a Dragon too bothered by self doubt to make use of. Raw power was nothing without control, and the willingness to use it when required, or rather for Ellyse to when it pleased Lanfear.

Coming back to herself, she realised the time and whipped wind through her hair, mussing it in such a way she knew Ellyse would adore, giving her clothes similar treatment. Far be it for her to get in such a state voluntarily, but then Lews had always preferred her somewhat unkempt, yet another thing that had survived in Ellyse. Not a moment after she had settled herself to face the door, settled herself into being Selene for the night, Ellyse entered, tripping on the broken sole of her boot in her haste. The candle had done its job after all, in announcing her plans for tonight. She let a slow, sly smile play across her lips and simply watched the other woman’s reaction, leaning back on one elbow as pure want spread through her. Even in this low lighting her infatuation was evident, eyes raking over her body, gaze lingering on the stray hair and twisted skirts that were oh so meticulously prepared exactly for this purpose, to entice. That was the aim of this entire endeavor, after all. Lure the Dragon to the Dark. Lure the dragon to her.

Said Dragon was busying herself with her boots, tugging the knotted laces as she discarded the ruined footwear.

“You put in word for another week.”

Winning the battle with the gnarled string, she turned and responded, “Is that going to be an issue?” Her tone was concerned, but the slight upturn of her mouth betrayed her true thoughts.

“Mmmmm,” She dragged the sound out as long as she could, delighting in how Ellyse hung on every vibration. Raising both arms and arching her back, she continued. “Shouldn’t be, provided you continue being so timely with payments.”

Shoes long forgotten, she was already making her way over, painting on a smile to rival Lanfear’s own. “I wouldn’t dream of being late, my lady.”

“Enough of these games.” Growing impatient with her pace, she forced her closer with saidar, crashing their lips together hard. This, this would never change. The ecstasy of having her love so close, the yearning for them to be closer still, to dash the rest of the world to pieces or bow everyone to her will, if only it meant more of this. One day, her Dragon would know this feeling too, one day soon if she was already as taken as she seemed. She was rougher than he had been - at least at first. Less scared of hurting her, more eager for her own satisfaction rather than focusing on what Selene needed. Yet another thing to be working on.

Manoeuvring them in such a way that she was above, she once again summoned the wind, this time to push apart the pins of Ellyse’s corset, lifting her weight slightly so that it fell beneath them and slid to the ground, using the same momentum to drive her thin undershirt over her head. The torn fabric tangled in her hair for a moment, off white against fiery red before it dropped into the depths under the bed with the corset. She giggled at this, bare chest heaving with breathless laughter.

“How you do that so fast I will never understand, it takes me years to get in and out of it.”

The smirk was back as she moved onto the lower portion of the dress, made easier by a lack of petticoats.

“I’d be more than happy to assist, but I fear I’d be reluctant to see it put back on.”

Whatever witty response she was sure to come out with was quickly silenced by the groan of pure desire Lanfear let out at the sight of her underthings, soaked through onto her thighs. Her Dragon was hers, and she took the time to appreciate it, slipping forward until she was straddling her hips, running the tips of her fingers idly over her sides, stopping before she could touch anywhere Ellyse truly wanted her to. She got bored of this rather quickly it seemed, reaching for her hands presumably to force her to touch her somewhere more interesting, but she wasn’t in charge here. Pinning her hands behind her head, Lanfear leaned in, letting her hair trail over the girl’s chest as she did so, giving some illusion of friction.

“No. You will wait, and if I decide that you deserve it you shall get something, but not before I am sated. Do you understand?”

Her pupils blew impossibly wider as she choked out agreement, but a mere “Y-yes,” wasn’t enough. Not tonight.

“Yes what?”

“Yes I understand, nothing for me until you’re satisfied, mistress.”

“That’s my girl.” She may not have known the depth of her belonging then, but she would. The Dragon was hers, in this life and ages past and in every one to come. As the Wheel turned, so she willed.

In the blink of an eye her dress was over her head and discarded elsewhere, the one underskirt she had on swiftly torn off and thrown. A wriggle of her hips had her lined up over Ellyse’s mouth, hovering even while arousal dripped down her cheeks, waiting to see what she would do. Much to her pleasure, her arms came up to wrap around her thighs, forcing her all the way down and reaching out with her tongue before she could get properly settled. She dropped with a lewd moan, revelling in the feeling of having this again, of being wanted, desired again. Ellyse knew, the way he always had, what she needed. Pushing until she was on the verge of breaking, then finding some new way to drag sounds she had no idea she was capable of making from the base of her throat, sucking hard at her clit and forcing her to grip the headboard until her knuckles grew white, hips still maintaining their fervid pace while her ecstasy dripped down the Dragon’s face, still supported by her sure grip. Relinquishing her hold on the bed, she gripped her arm, still wrapped around her thigh and the only reason she was still upright, squeezing hard and falling back ever so slightly.

Ever so slightly out of breath she asked, “Mmmmm, do you think you deserve your turn?”

The muffled voice replied, “Not up to me,” eyes on her the entire time.

That reverent look was precisely what she craved, the one who had so long ago denied her now thinking solely of her pleasure. She would do anything, anything, to keep it this way, she swore in that moment. Ellyse would know her true name before long, no matter what may have to happen to make that come to pass. Not that she would admit it, but there were easier ways than this innkeeper ploy to get to Ellyse. Plain old kidnapping, Compulsion, though she had never held Graendal’s fondness for the art, or even merely running into her on the road would have been easier. This way provided her with not only an end goal, but an escape along with it. As Mierin, she was held atop a pedestal, Lews Therin’s lover, as powerful as a woman could be in the power, yet never quite distinguished enough for a third name. No matter. As Lanfear, she wasn’t forsaken, but chosen. A creature of stories, the stuff of legends. Fitting for someone who was born in the age of them. Among the most powerful channelers of any age, and all paled in comparison to the imponderabilia of her allure. But Selene, Selene was different in that she was no different than any other innkeeper in Cairhien, at least at first glance. Selene was an ordinary woman, burdened only with the worries that plagued the rest of the city, of failed crops and lousy patronage. To be able to escape into nothing but sensation, to lose herself while riding someone else, that was the bliss she craved but could never quite achieve in her other personas.

Sliding back down, “Oh you are good for me aren’t you,” she said as she pressed her lips back onto Ellyse’s, greeted by the taste of herself thick on her tongue. She kissed and was kissed until nothing of her pleasure remained between them, and only then did she aim lower. Sinking her teeth into her Dragon’s neck, where she knew it would be seen above even the higher necklines she favoured, pressing and sucking at the sting to soothe the ache. These marks would last, all the better for the Aes Sedai that would undoubtedly rear their heads soon to see just how completely she controlled their precious tool. Again and again she latched on, until her shoulders were littered with purpling bruises leading gradually downwards, from the underside of her jaw to the beginnings of her décolletage. All the while Ellyse scarcely made a sound, as was her custom. Where Selene was loud about her pleasure, she was quiet, all whispered curses and muttered obscenities, sayings from Shienar and Falme, Saldea and Tear, all jumbled together in a passionate exclamation that would garner stares from even the most foul mouthed of sailors. Yet not once did she invoke the Light. Never since arriving in Cairhien. Never since leaving those who fought most fervently for it. Never since the Aes Sedai Moiraine had been stilled at the Eye of the World. A number of explanations for this presented themselves to Lanfear, ranging from tenable to inane. In a perfect world, she was ready to forsake the Light, swear her oaths to the Dark, and stay with her for ages come to pass. That, of course, was exceedingly unlikely, but it would never do to rule out ones best option. Whatever the reason, this habit lent hope to her mission and ulterior motives alike. Even if she wasn’t ready to walk the shadow completely, pulling the Dragon from directly following the path of the Light was a major step, and one bound to lead to a next.

Dropping her focus lower still, she wrapped her lips around the tip of her breast, again biting, ruining the flesh for anyone’s mouth but her own, revelling in the carte blanche Ellyse had given to her on that very first night, the first time the gold had failed to appear. One hand rose to pull at the side of her chest left unmarred, eliciting more soft gasps and choice swears from the redhead below, pale eyes forced closed in ecstasy.

“Peace…” She trailed off as Selene slid her tongue across her skin, too caught up in sensation to form words.

Pausing her assault on the girl’s chest, “Aiel on first glance, swears like a Shienaran, all while claiming to be from the Two Rivers. Unusually well travelled for a farmhand.”

“I-,” A whine interrupted her response and Lanfear couldn’t help the smile that formed at how desperate she was, “Had a- a long - fuck - journey here�� With some detours.”

“And i intend on hearing that story in full, another time.” With this, her hand slipped between her legs and wasted no time in finding her clit, never stopping the movement of her lips and successfully dragging a guttaral groan from her beautiful Dragon. And she was beautiful, more so than Lews had ever been. Anything enticing about him had originated from his strength, rather than his looks. A strong beak of a nose and coarse hair, eyes that never seemed to show emotion. All things that lent him an air of power, but did nothing to lend him her heart. But Ellyse was none of these. Her features were delicate, hair thick and soft and the colour of the setting sun. Beauty unlike that which Lanfear possessed, yet differing from most in that it was not dulled by standing near her, rather it seemed to draw the flower from her bud, to enhance every aspect of her to a level befitting the person Lanfear had chosen to stand aside, to turn her from a simple farmhand to the Dragon Reborn. The sun and moon, Bringer of Light and the Daughter of the Night, united in glory. And when the time came, she would take the glory. Selene would make sure of it. But for now, her fingers found their way to her entrance, slow and deliberate. Waiting for that telltale panting of want before she pushed inside, velvet smoothness surrounding two digits, the wetness dripping onto the sheets more than enough for her to start moving. Pounding in and out, in and out, thumb working her clit and tongue still laying waste to her breasts until she came, body rippling like tremulous petals, saidin threatening to overflow its confines and burst free, tongues of flame coiling sinuously around the two forms on the bed, visible only to those select few who had seen the tainted power at work before. Ever a giving lover, she fucked her through it, praising the Pattern that Ellyse’s eyes had closed before the power had escaped and she would have had to either lie or reveal herself, and it was too early for that yet. Soon, with any luck.

Hearing her true name from the Dragon’s lips, in this lifetime, was what she craved more so than owning her body. He had had her as Mierin, the wunderkind physicist, still not entirely sure of her place in the world. Since then, she had created that place. Created the person to fill it. Chosen of the Dark One, instrumental in freeing him. A story told to frighten children into good behaviour. Stronger than today’s Aes Sedai could ever dream of being, even with their few remaining angreal. A threat to everything they were currently working towards. And how she delighted in it. What joy it was to finally be stronger than those who would silence her, both in the power and politically. Their web of Darkfriend supporters was woven deep into the aristocracy and spread from those highest in their respective cities to the lowliest peasant, with men enough for grunt work of the kind you didn’t return from and the Black Ajah to tug on those strings that she herself was too high up to bother handling. Yes, Ellyse would know her strength soon. Know just how special she was, how special they both were.

Her eyes were fluttering back open by this time, face slack save a dreamy smile that soon shifted as Lanfear slammed a hand around her neck. Pinning her to the bed, she crashed their lips together once more, another rough, demanding kiss, taking advantage of her surprise to work her tongue in, swallowing back the moans both women let out. Thin rivulets of sweat rode towards the sheets, fighting to find a space the two weren’t pressed against each other to slide along. Delicate strands of saliva webbed over the wrist that remained around Ellyse’s throat as she abruptly pulled back, pinning her with a stare so intense what little breath she could draw caught in her throat and every hair along her arms rose. Something akin to fear polluted those grey eyes, no longer sleepy but wide and alert. One brow arched in a silent question.

“You’re mine.”

Waiting was no longer an option. Her tone left no question in the matter, and gave the girl no options aside from the obvious. She found herself more stuck on Ellyse than she had ever been on Lews. He had been perfectly delightful for a time, but the monotony of it all had gotten to her in the end. She had been his first priority, his chief opinion, the one he trusted above all others. For a time. Too soon, he had seemed to grow bored of her. Everything was more important. Her achievements had been second wind to whatever his latest flight of fancy was. So she had adapted. Planted the idea for his next delusion after becoming a master at it. Mirroring him oh so fucking perfectly, right up until the day he looked too closely. The cracks were fine, yet they ran end to end. Falling apart with the slightest pressure, one lingering glance and sordid conversation was enough to shatter the life she had so carefully constructed for herself. Never again. Never again would she make that mistake.

Seeing her like this, with such exquisite longing drawn across her features even while hopelessly overpowered; from the trusting softness in her eyes to the set curve of her throat, pushing slightly at the hand restraining her as if trying to get closer still, apparently forgetting they were all but conjoined from the hips down, inspired this sudden fierce possessiveness. Praise the Dark One and the Pattern and even the Creator himself for allowing a Dragon as perfect as Ellyse. One so superbly isolated from her loved ones, wondrously scorned by the Aes Sedai claiming to act in the name of the Light, and so desperate for the slightest scrap of affection that she had come running the instant Lanfear opened her arms - both literally and metaphorically. She had awoken in this age looking to find Lews again, intent on remedying her past mistakes with a sugar shell and sweet words, but she was certainly a welcome surprise. She may have been all that was left of him, but he was only a fragment of her. His resolve, his raw strength, and the tempest of his anger were all evident, yet she controlled them in ways that would have been foreign to the Dragon of old, tempered the aggression saidin wrought with a gentleness Lanfear had not thought possible from someone in such circumstances as she and yet still bending the tainted power to her will with all the delicacies of a hammer striking hot steel. The battle against the male power was not an easy one for any man, let alone a woman in possession of the soul of a man three thousand years dead without any shred remaining of his sanity. She had given so much already, leaving everyone she knew behind so as not to risk one day hurting them if the madness claimed her also and she lived up to the Kinslayer’s legacy. Noble intentions, truly. But a futile effort in the end. Day by day, Lanfear could sense saidin rooting itself deeper and deeper within the girl, occupying the shadowed recesses of her mind and whispering into her dreams. These, not even the Daughter of the Night herself could keep from reaching Ellyse in Tel’aran’rhiod. She would need to swear her oaths to stop the decay, and the chances of her doing that were slim as of now, unless she had seriously misjudged the poor child.

But here and now that was of little consequence. Any influence the Dark had had over her was weak, yet enough to bring about certain… changes. Only noticeable to one sharing a bed with her. A self assuredness overtook her at times, the shy smile making way for a confident smirk, one that said she knew exactly what you were thinking and exactly why you were thinking it, well on its way to being on par with Lanfear’s own. In nights past it had been Ellyse holding her by the throat, nights when she had left no sign of her presence and allowed a frustrated woman to walk in and see someone seemingly only wanting her body when she so desperately needed to speak and be heard. Nights when what she had truly needed was to take control over something, someone, and feed that lust for power buried deep within. This Dragon did so like to deny what she was, who she was, and yet it was only by accepting it that these trysts she so enjoyed could blossom into true partnership.

Selene would be more than happy with Ellyse, but Lanfear would settle for nobody short of the Dragon.

Those damned wrinkles formed around her eyes as she laughed lightly in response to her lovers sudden possessiveness, “For now and for always, Selene.”

This reckless confession dragged to the surface memories of Lews saying much the same. By the Light, they were so much the same. If she were to… No. No. She wouldn’t. All the girl needed was time. A few months was nothing. These few months had simply been ground work. Laying the foundation for her grand scheme. Enamouring Ellyse with exactly what she needed most, before slowly revealing her true self. Well, what little there was left to reveal. Selene, at times, seemed to be more her than Lanfear. Selene could be soft, show emotion without worrying about it being construed as weakness. Daes Dae’mar had nothing on the scheming of the Chosen, and if any of the others were around to catch wind of Ellyse being the Dragon, her perfect romance would never have bloomed. Well, Ishamael was free also, but him and her alone understood the allure of the Dragon, of Lews Therin walking the world once more. He knew exactly how beneficial having her hopelessly in love with one of the Forsaken could be. After all, loving Lews was what had driven Lanfear to swear her oaths. It was inevitable that loving her should send Ellyse down the path of the Shadow also.

But for now, she had a beautiful woman underneath her and she intended to take every possible second of pleasure. Her easy smile at declaring herself Selene’s belied the hand creeping towards her core, parting her legs and flipping them so that she was on top in one smooth motion, grinning at the shock on Lanfear’s face even while she pulled her closer. This kiss was softer, fitting of the words not long spoken, gentle movements and muffled groans filling the room. Ellyse raised one knee and she wasted no time in grinding against it, those gentle groans replaced with a sudden gasp at the much needed friction. Her Dragon chuckled at this show of want, slipping two fingers inside of her and relishing in her wanton moan at the sensation. She kept the kiss going even as her fingers sped up and it became more and more one sided, all of Selene’s energy going into arching to meet her thrusts to get herself there. Her fingers scissored inside her walls as they plunged in, thumb finding her clit in moments and marking swift circles, drawing her closer and closer with every clever flick of her wrist. She suddenly forced them closer, slipping her tongue into her mouth and drinking down every little sound that escaped as she came, never slowing and showing no signs of stopping, pressuring her still shaking body into a second orgasm and only relenting after Selene’s shuddering subsided.

“Careful, I might start thinking you like me.” All things considered, her tone was surprisingly even, though her breathlessness somewhat ruined the playacting.

Ever quick to play along, her Dragon, her wonderful Dragon, replied, “Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” She punctuated her words with a tender kiss, rolling over to rest her head on Lanfear’s chest, absently tracing patterns against her stomach. “I’m sorry if that was too much, I just-

She was cut off by a swift laugh, Lanfear pressing a kiss to the crown of her head and wrapping both arms around her slight frame. “You’d know if it was too much. I am a woman of many attributes, one of which happens to be my fabulous libido. If you ever tried anything at all that i didn’t like, I would find a way to let you know, okay? Just like you would tell me if you ever weren’t enjoying something I introduced.” True, however unlikely it was. One area in which Lews and Ellyse scarcely differed at all was sexual preferences. She liked what he had liked, and what he had liked, Mierin had mastered. But back to the present.

“Want me to get the candle?”

“Please.”

As she rose from the bed, her hair swung behind her, a solid red mass of snarls and frizz thanks to the friction of the sheets.

“Forget the candle, bring your hairbrush over here.”

“Why?”

“Because, your hair is ruined sweetheart, let me help. After all, this is thanks to me and I like making you feel good.”

A truly gorgeous grin bloomed across her face at these words, one so full of unadulterated happiness that she stumbled on her way back across the room, all but dropping the brush onto the bed.

“Come on, let me get fresh sheets while you find something to tie your hair off with. If you don’t have anything, there should be something in my room.”

She nodded and threw a greatcoat across her shoulders for the walk to Selene’s room, all the way on the other side of the inn, leaving Lanfear free to freshen the sheets, weaving flows of air and water to draw everything undesirable from the bedding and thoroughly wash it, rather than trekking to the linen closet that was all of two doors down the hall. While she was at it, she briefly scrubbed herself down and expelled any unwanted fluids. Nobody could possibly sleep comfortably while not being properly clean. By the time she was finished with all of this, Ellyse was back, thin leather cord in hand and coat abandoned on the floor.

“Perfect, now come here and sit.” She patted the space between her thighs on the bed, lightly pulling her endless amounts of hair to her back as she began parting it to brush through. Over half of the shapeless mass was placed back over her shoulder so as to separate it from the hank being brushed, only to then have another section taken from it as the first was smoothed over her other shoulder. The work was slow and methodical, the thickness of her hair necessitating a gentle hand and the patience of one who had been imprisoned for millenia. Working from the bottom to the top had always yielded the best, least painful results on her own hair, so this was the technique she favoured for her Dragon. She seemed to enjoy the attention, watching the candlelight flicker around the room and talking of everything and nothing, a fresh topic with every brushstroke. Once the detangling was over, she divided the hair into nine sections, braiding it into three before twisting them together into one elaborate braid that would hang to her waist, but was currently snaking over the sheets as she lay back and smiled up in thanks.

“That was… Incredible. Nobody has done anything like that for me, well, ever,” She confessed. “Can I-” Nerves seemed to cut her off, despite their earlier activities. “Can I brush yours? I promise I’ll be gentle.” That shy grin was awful, capable of levelling cities and destroying nations. Of course, only when it was directed at Lanfear.

“Come on then, let me sit.”

The girl scrambled to take Selene’s place, straddling the elder and gently running a hand through her hair to see what she was working with.

“God, everything about you is beautiful.”

This praise shouldn’t have effected her as much as it did. Blushing like a maiden at her first bedding over a simple truth! She was better than this.

She took the brush in hand and simply began, with none of the careful strategy Selene had had, just tugging it from midway down to the end and letting the hair bounce back up into the waves it liked to fall into.

“So where did you get the tie? It’s pretty and it felt like it was a good one, not the cheap kind traders always brought to the Two Rivers that snapped after two uses.”

“Oh, the markets in Cairhien are always reliable for odds and ends like that, but if you truly want the best of the best, you’re much better off wandering the Foregate for a time.”

Confusion filled her voice. “The Foregate??”

“Yes, the people here spend far more time making these things than the people in the city proper, and often use better materials too. Yes, you may pay a little more, but whats a few extra pennies for something that I’ll use forever.”

“Huh, remind me to consult you before I go shopping next.”

“Please, you wouldn’t last an hour walking alone in the Foregate. Pretty little things are almost always taken for noblewomen in disguise. Trust me, you don’t want that happening.”

“So whatever must you do?”

Stifling a laugh, she turned to face Ellyse, resting a hand on her knee as she replied, “They take one look at me and think better of it.” This ominous statement was accompanied by a sugar sweet smile, one designed to fool showoff noblemen looking for an easy boost to their egos. But Ellyse was sharper than them.

“Good thing I like my women a little dangerous.”

Both women were suddenly laughing, clutching at one another’s arms as they tried desperately to stop, to calm themselves.

Still struggling to catch her breath, Ellyse managed to get a complete sentence out, “Come on, lie down and I’ll get the candle.”

Residual giggles saw the candle, wick burning lower and lower, blown out and the Dragon curled securely in Lanfear’s arms.

“You know, you’re stunning when you laugh like that.” Something about this sleepy confession dug through the layers of carefully crafted personas that made up Lanfear. All of a sudden she really was just Selene, falling asleep with her lover in the inn she owned, rather than the terrifying creature who orchestrated the entire relationship, from obtaining inns all over not just the Foregate but in Cairhien proper also, not knowing where Ellyse would choose to stay. In hindsight, the Foregate was the obvious choice, but then hindsight is always clearer, to ensuring her salary remained below the rent through a mixture of false charges and bribing the sanitarium staff. This entire thing was false, so why did falling for Ellyse seem so real? Lews was perfectly fine. A man, a symbol of power, of status. Someone she would not have minded using, standing by him as long as it was beneficial to her and leaving the moment it was not. She would have taken what he had in a heartbeat had it been possible. But she was different. She… She was so pure. The world hadn’t spoiled her yet. Lanfear, Daughter of the Night, second only to Ishamael in terms of power, set the world aflame and dance amongst the ashes to see the Dragon Reborn smile, to be the reason that effervescent smile spread across her cheeks. She knew who she was, and yet she still saw the light in everything. And the reverence in her eyes when she looked at Selene… If only she could moan her true name. The day that happened, she swore on everything she had, she would properly celebrate. With wine, and her woman. Preferably all day, on every available surface, the Great Plan be damned. Evil could take a day off so that its perpetrators could get thoroughly laid.

One thing that bothered her though. Despite Ellyse knowing that she was indeed the Dragon Reborn, she had taken no steps towards mastering her power. Or even understanding it at the most basic level. However strong she may think she was right now, it was but a fraction of what she could be with training. Training that she could not provide, aside from the foundations of control. Not setting fires in her sleep and such. But the true depths of saidin… To master it she would need someone familiar in the power. Ishamael, or Asmodean perhaps. No matter, that bridge could be crossed later. When she was trained, the two of them would be unstoppable. The two halves of the power, working in unison for the first time since the Age of Legends. Now that was something worthy of her and her Dragon. Nothing short of miraculous would be enough. The things they could do with those weaves were damn near limitless. They could tear down the world and remake it in their image, teach those failures of Aes Sedai what true control was.

But here, in this moment, all that mattered was Ellyse’s even breathing as her head rested once again over her breast, one hand idly tapping at the sheets in her slumber. Choosing to forego an appearance in her dreams tonight, she simply lay there and enjoyed the moment. That steady thud as her finger collided with the material over and over gradually became an annoyance. One that she tried to block out, focusing her mind elsewhere until she could not anymore, using wind to plug her ears until the sensation of pressure building became too much, even going so far as to attempt moving her arm as she slept. Finally, she tried slipping her own hand underneath Ellyse’s, successfully blocking the target of the infernal knocking. What she did not anticipate was the way the sleeping Dragon clasped her hand, holding it as though it was a lifeline. This simple act was enough to confirm what she had suspected for a while, though that suspicion had come to a head tonight. Ellyse truly was different from Lews, in that she had successfully caught Lanfear’s heart.

tags, couple people who asked to be tagged and a few randoms bcs i dont have a taglist sorry if u didnt wanna be tagged <33

@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress @eve-is-obsessed @hahnspoetrywrites @lanfearswife @moon3thereal @ofthebrownajah

#wheel of time #lanfear #wot #wot on prime #natasha o'keeffe #wot fanfic #forsaken #ao3 #selene wot #writing #fanfiction #wheel of time fanfic #lanfear fanfic #fanfic

28 notes · View notes

skyholly · 6 months ago

Text

The best kept secret

Summary: What if Moiraine had a baby daughter she and Siuan were forced to leave to Anvaere to raise as her own?

moiraine/siuan

Chapter 1 here!

***************

Chapter 2: Moiraine

Moiraine couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw her. She was so grown up. Her father’s words resounded in her ears. Time is a thief.

Her hair, of the warmest brown, sat neatly over her shoulders, when she’d once had soft, chestnut blonde curls. Her eyes remained the deepest of blue, but with more wisdom to them. Her height surprised her the most; the last time she saw her she could barely reach her waist, whilst now she stood almost as tall as her. And of course, that ring on her finger. That cursed ring. She knew when she’d joined the Tower and she knew she’d joined the Yellow Ajah, Siuan always kept her informed on such matters, but she very much wished she hadn’t. She had hoped she couldn’t have been able to channel. That she was allowed a normal life, a complete foreigner to the Tower’s demands. But the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills.

It took Moiraine a moment to get a hold of herself, and before she realised it, she’d made her way home, muttered some words, and suddenly she found herself tucking a strand of hair behind Guinevere’s ear, her mind flooding with memories of that week, a week that she had so earnestly tried to erase from her memory, and yet could never fully escape it. I can never seen her again.

*************

Moiraine knew she shouldn’t, and yet, she couldn’t help it. She’d been sent on business to Cairhien by the Amyrlin’s orders and could stay at whatever inn she pleased, preferably while maintaining a low profile. But being in the city ignited something within her—a yearning, an ache that burned throughout her entire being. Before she could gather her thoughts, she found herself dragging Lan through the city’s streets and passageways etched into her memory, towards the childhood home she’d promised herself never to return to, until she was ready. The Light knew she wasn’t, but she couldn’t fight the feeling, the yearning to see her.

“This isn’t wise, Moiraine.” Lan warned her. But he could feel everything she did, and he couldn’t help but to sympathise with what her Aes Sedai was going trough, all of her emotions burning within him as well. He diligently followed the woman across the city, until they reached a big, wealthy house with an enormous door on its front. “Moiraine.” He alerted her again, but she remained indifferent to it. Just one look at her. One look at her and I’m gone.

Moiraine walked the steps towards the door, hesitating for a second, before knocking on it. She could hear some mayhem taking place inside the house, little footsteps running towards their direction, and the voice of a man, gentle, yet commanding, yelling for someone, before there was silence. Seconds later, the door opened abruptly, revealing who was behind such chaos. A man, tall, advanced in years, with grey hair and a smile so wide and kind it translated into his eyes, was standing before them, holding a giggling toddler in his arms. The three year old girl had golden, chestnut curls pulled into two braids; eyes the colour of midnight sky, and a mischievous grin on her face that would easily let any parent know she was a handful. Moiraine felt herself melt at such sight.

“Moiraine!” The older man happily exclaimed, opening his eyes in surprise, hastily stepping aside to let the pair in. “It’s been so long, four years if I’m not mistaken, what are you doing here?” He asked, shifting the toddler from one arm to the other, who had suddenly gone silent at the presence of the two strangers.

Moiraine knew she ought to answer, her brain knew as much, but she couldn’t draw her gaze away from the little girl in the man’s arms. She was so precious, every bit of endearing and magical as she had pictured her to be. She instantly felt compelled to take the toddler into her arms, and realised what a terrible mistake she’d made by returning. You fool! You most definitely aren’t ready. You’re endangering everything.

“We're on Tower’s business,” Lan rushed to explain, noticing Moiraine was too absent minded to do so herself, “and we thought we’d stop by. My name is Lan Mandragoran, I’m Moiraine’s Warder.” He said, extending a hand towards him, which the older man shook happily. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Lan. I’m Torvin, Anvaere’s husband. ” He introduced himself, with a big smile, as he tilted his face towards the little girl resting her head on his shoulder. “This is our daughter, Guinevere. Winnie, this is your aunt Moiraine, and his Warder, Lan. Aren’t you going to say hi?”

Guinevere stared at them, a shy smile covering her face, before she nudged even further into her father’s chest. “Has a mouse eaten your tongue? Why are you so quiet all of the sudden?” He teased her, as he started tickling the toddler, which managed to get her to erupt in giggles.

“Darling?” A voice echoed from within the hall, a voice she could recognise anywhere. Moiraine felt herself go pale. Anvaere. “Who is it so late in the evening?” The woman asked, as she joined them in the room, but went still at the sight of their guests. At the sight of one guest in particular. “Moiraine,” she exhaled.

“Hello, little sister. You look well,” Moiraine said, finally tearing her gaze from the toddler. “You all do.”

“We are.” Anvaere nodded, as she approached her husband, taking the child from his arms protectively into hers, with a hint of worry in her eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by her older sister. “We’re all very happy indeed.”

“And I’m glad, sister, I truly am.” She professed, taking a quick glance at the young girl before stepping back towards the warder, a flicker of both anger and sympathy showing in Anvaere's expression. “We were sent to Caihrien on Amyrlin’s order and we thought we’d stop here, just as Lan said. Nothing more.”

Moiraine and Anvaere stared at each other for a moment, silently speaking in their own language no one else knew. Moiraine understood why her sister was acting so guarded. The Aes Sedai puckered her eyes into a pleading expression, biting on her lip. I just want to see her. I’m not here to take her away from you. Anvaere felt her chest tighten at such sight, she couldn’t help but to empathise with her older sister. It broke her heart to see her like that.

“You better join us for dinner, then.” Anvaere smiled, leaving a kiss on Guinevere’s temple. “You’ll always be welcome to stay here, sister.”

Dinner went smoothly, their discussions centred around Barthanes’ travels to visit his uncle, how expertly he faired despite his young age, the latest scandals among Cairhien’s noble Houses, news from the Sun Palace, and whatever little they could speak of the Tower. Yet it ended fairly quickly, under the excuse that they needed to put Guinevere to bed early, lest she got moody.

Anvaere had cambers prepared for the both of them, separate of course, as Lan was guided into one of the guests’ rooms and Moiraine into her own childhood bedroom. She was settling in, a torrent of memories coming back to her, when she heard a shy knock on the door, and then noticed someone peeking through a small gap in the opening. A tiny someone. And suddenly, a little girl came in rushing, lightly closing the door behind her. Moiraine remained still in her place next to the fireplace, deliberating on whether sending the girl back to her room, or allowing her to stay.

Guinevere stood quiet, her back rigid against the door, her gaze set intensely into the older woman’s. “Is it true you’re an Aes Sedai? My brother says you are one.” She asked, bluntly, a hint ofboth fear and curiosity ringing in her voice.

Moiraine couldn’t help but smile. “I am,” she said, raising the hand where she carried her ring, “would you like to come see?”

Guinevere eagerly nodded, and then hesitantly walked towards the armchair Moiraine was sitting in. She softly brushed her fingers against the ring, staring in awe at the serpents that shaped it and the blue stone in the middle. “This gives you magic?” She asked.

“No,” Moiraine softly laughed, removing it from her finger and handing it to the little girl, “the One Power is within all of us, within every stone, every body of water, every burning fire, every wind that blows on your hair. Some women simply are capable of pulling on its weaves.” She explained. Some men, as well.

“Woah,” Guinevere exhaled, grabbing the ring, the jewel fitting loose on her little finger, “how do you find the weaves?” The child asked, tilting her head in confusion. She didn’t see any strings around, how could someone pull on something it didn’t exist?

“Like this.” Moiraine said, as she moved her hands in smooth motions, causing the fire on the chimney to unexpectedly burn higher and more fiercely.

Guinevere gasped, both in amazement and fear, as she jumped into Moiraine’s lap, her little hands gripping on her chest. “You don’t need to be scared,” the woman chuckled, instinctively embracing the little girl, “it won’t hurt you.”

The child kept staring in wonder at the dancing flames, and then turned towards her aunt. “Can I do that too?” Guinevere earnestly asked her, her big eyes, an exact copy of Moiraine’s, full of fascination. That look pulled at the woman’s heart strings, a wave of sadness and nostalgia of what could’ve been filling her with sorrow. Oh, my dearest Siuan, if only you could see her.

“Maybe,” she whispered, gently tucking a strand of hair behind the little girl’s ear, “we’ll have to wait until you’re older, sometimes the ability to channel comes later. Speaking of late,” she added, taking Guinevere by her arms as to set her on the floor once again, “I believe you should be off to bed.”

“No!” The girl yelled, holding on tighter to her aunt, all the shyness from before nothing but a stranger to her at that point. “I don’t want to go. I want you to tell me stories about Aes Sedai and magic and monsters.” She begged, pouting, eyes furrowing into the sweetest pleading expression she’d ever seen. How could anyone refuse? She suddenly understood Torvin’s words.

Moiraine couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, giving in to Guinevere's cries. She helped the girl settle into her lap, a smug smile taking over the toddler’s semblance upon getting what she wanted. “Does that always work for you?” She asked, smiling.

“Usually.”

Moiraine started reciting tales about kings and queens from ancient times, as Guinevere’s unwavering stare on her kept turning into frowns and smiles and grins as she listened to the amazing stories her aunt told her. They remained like that, entranced in their own little world, until they heard a voice resound in the hallway.

“Guinevere!” Anvaere’s angry voice reached them. “Where are you? Torvin, I can’t find Winnie!” She yelled, panic slowly settling into her.

Moiraine turned towards the toddler. “Does your mother not know you’re here?” The girl shook her head, her face mimicking Moiraine’s own guilty expression.

“Mama, I’m here!” She screamed, as she hopped off the armchair and ran towards the door. Anvaere barged into the room, just as the girl reached for it. “Winnie,” she sighed, relieved, picking the toddler up in her arms,“what were you doing in here?”

“Aunt Moiraine was telling me a story!” She exclaimed, excitedly. Anvaere directed her gaze towards her sister, who had stood up, uncomfortably placing her hands on her stomach. “I’m sorry Anvaere, I didn’t know—

“It’s fine,” the woman interrupted her, sending a sympathetic look towards her, “I apologise, I just got concerned when I didn’t see her in her nursery.”

“I understand.” Moiraine smiled at her sister, gesture that she wholeheartedly returned.

“I can hardly blame you,” Anvaere sighed, tilting her head towards Guinevere, “I believe it was this little girl who pulled on some strings to get you to tell her stories, didn’t she?” She said, tickling the girl.

“I-just-wanted-to-hear-some-stories!” The girl said, in between giggles.

Moiraine lowered her gaze, softly smiling to herself. Wishing for something she long ago gave up, and could have no more. You shouldn’t have come here. She’s happy here. Anvaere can take so much better care of her.

“Well, it’s time for you to go to bed now, and no more escaping, alright?” Anvaere warned the toddler in her arms.

“Alright.” She conceded, her arms dropping in defeat.

“Now say thank you and goodnight to your aunt, and maybe she’ll tell you some more stories tomorrow.”

“Thank you Aunt Moiraine, goodnight Aunt Moiraine.” Guinevere said, waving a little hand in her direction.

“Goonight, Guinevere.”

The following night, Guinevere found her in her room once again. The little girl barged into her room, not bothering to knock, as she already felt comfortable enough in the presence of her aunt, and ran towards her bed, where Moiraine was busy reading a book.

“Can you tell me another story?” The little girl begged, her face barely reaching the height of the mattress. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, and she was wearing a white nightgown with flower embroidery. Moiraine recognised the piece of clothing as one of her own she used to wear as a child.

Moiraine squinted her eyes at the girl. “Alright,” she eventually gave in, moving aside so that the toddler could jump into bed next to her. The two of them settled in, and so Moiraine started telling the story about Arthur Hawking and his fallen Empire. And just like the last time, Guinevere remained quiet, with her eyes wide as plates in astonishment, always asking Moiraine to keep on going whenever she tried calling it a night.

The days in Cairhien passed quickly, each one blending into the next. Moiraine and Lan stayed longer than intended, their presence justified by vague mentions of Tower business. But Moiraine knew the real reason she stayed: Guinevere.

Every evening, Guinevere would sneak into Moiraine’s room, her eyes bright with anticipation. The bond between them grew stronger with each story shared, each moment of wonder at the magic Moiraine could summon. Anvaere allowed such things silently, a mixture of understanding and concern in her eyes.

One of those nights Moiraine came home and went straight to her bedroom, skipping dinner, for the events of the day had drained all energy away from her.

She was on the brink of falling asleep, when she heard the door open, and little footsteps started approaching her bed. She opened her eyes and saw Guinevere carefully walking towards her, carrying a platter full of cheese, bread and ham with her hands. “Mama told me to bring this to you,” she said, as Moiraine sat up against her pillow. The little girl placed the platter over her lap, and then climbed up the bed to sit next to her.

“Are you sick Aunt Moiraine?” She asked, placing a little hand over the woman’s arm. Moiraine’s heart fluttered at the action.

“Not sick, just tired.” She said, as she took a bite on a piece of cheese.

“Oh, I get that,” Guinevere said, nodding, “I get sooo tired sometimes.” She added, theatrically tilting her head to the side and letting her body fall into the mattress.

“You do?” Moiraine asked, amused at the girl’s cheekiness.

Guinevere nodded earnestly, her little face serious. “Mama says I’m a handful.”

Moiraine laughed softly. “I can see why she would say that.”

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Moiraine nibbling on the food Guinevere had brought, the little girl watching her with wide, curious eyes.

“Do you want to hear another story?” Moiraine asked, breaking the silence.

Guinevere’s face lit up. “Yes, please!”

Moiraine began telling her about the adventures of the ancient Aes Sedai and their battles against the Shadow. Guinevere listened with fascinated attention, occasionally gasping or giggling at the exciting parts. As the story unfolded, Moiraine felt a warmth spreading through her, a sense of connection and joy she hadn’t felt in a long time. She felt a surge of guilt, knowing Siuan wasn’t there to share such moments with them.

It was well past Guinevere’s bedtime when Anvaere found them. She stood at the doorway, watching the scene with a mix of emotions. She knew no one else who could control her emotions like her older sister, but would they falter at the girl’s presence? “Winnie, it’s time for bed,” she said softly.

Guinevere pouted but didn’t argue. She slid off the bed and ran to her mother, giving her a hug. “Goodnight, Aunt Moiraine,” she said, waving as Anvaere picked her up.

“Goodnight, Guinevere,” Moiraine replied, feeling a pang of sadness as the door closed behind them.

She lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. Coming back to Cairhien had opened old wounds but also brought unexpected joy. It is so easy. She is so easy, Siuan would be great with her, and Lan adores her. Maybe it could work out.

The following afternoon, Moiraine found herself pacing around her room, thinking about Guinevere, about the time they’d spent together, how seemlessly she blended into her life, when she heard yelling in the hallway.

“I don’t want to get a bath!” A little voice shouted.

“Winnie, you don’t get to choose—

“But I want Aunt Moiraine to tell me—

“GUINEVERE!” Anvaere finally raised her voice, as Moiraine made her way into the corridor, to find her sister, fuming, with both her hands on her hips, and feet away from her, a little girl, hair wild as if she had been riding, her dress stained with mud. “This is not a request, you are getting a bath right now before bed.”

Guinevere crossed her arms, her lower lip jutting out in a stubborn pout. “But I want Aunt Moiraine to tell me a story first,” she insisted.

Anvaere sighed, her frustration melting into a look of resignation. “Moiraine, could you...?”

Moiraine smiled gently. “Of course.” She crouched down to Guinevere’s level, her eyes soft and understanding. “How about this: you take your bath now, and when you’re all clean and ready for bed, I’ll tell you the best story you’ve ever heard. Deal?”

Guinevere’s eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. “Deal!”

“Go on, then,” Moiraine encouraged, giving her a gentle nudge towards the bath. Guinevere scampered off, Anvaere watching her go with a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” Anvaere said quietly, her eyes meeting Moiraine’s.

Moiraine simply nodded, her heart aching with a swirl of emotions she couldn’t quite name. Easy.

Later that night, Guinevere, freshly bathed and in her nightgown, bounded into Moiraine’s room, her eyes wide with anticipation. She climbed into bed beside her aunt, who took her by the arms and settled her onto her lap, the little girl’s back resting against Moiraine’s legs.

“Alright, Aunt Moiraine, I’m ready,” she declared.

Moiraine smiled, grabbing the little girl’s hands. “Once upon a time, in a land far to the north...” she began, weaving a tale of adventure and magic, her voice soothing and melodic.

As she spoke, she felt the weight of the world lift off her shoulders, if only for a little while. She glanced down at Guinevere, whose eyes were slowly drooping, her breathing becoming steady and even.

By the time Moiraine finished the story, Guinevere was fast asleep against her chest, her small hand clutching Moiraine’s robe. She softly caressed the little girl’s cheek, rosy and plump. It feels so right. At the moment Moiraine fell asleep, she’d already made her choice.

The Aes Sedai woke up at the crack of dawn, before anyone else in the household, got up from the bed in a gentle manner so as to not wake Guinevere up, and started packing her bags. She then ran towards the little girl’s nursery, and picked up some clothes for her. That’ll be enough, we can always get more.

She started to feel her heart flicker as she headed towards the barn to get her horse ready, a mix of emotions palpable on her skin. Happy, guilty, scared, unsure, but determined. So very determined. She blocked her connection to Lan, just in case such torrent of sentiments woke the warder up, and bolted towards her room once again. She picked up the little girl on her arms, softly, avoiding to wake her up, rolled her in a blanket, and started to make her way out of the house.

She skipped through the stairs with ease, and was about to reach the lower entrance, when someone swiftly intercepted her, blocking her way to the door. Torvin.

Moiraine went stiff, reaching for the One Power, an electrical buzz surrounding her body, ready for confrontation if needed, but the older man didn’t appear to be angry at her, rather he wore a sad and sympathetic look on his face. He was aware of her intentions.

Curse you, Lan.

“What are you doing, Moiraine?” The old man asked, softly, his voice barely a whisper.

“Taking my daughter with me, Torvin.” She muttered, her lip quivering.

“You know this isn’t the way,” Torvin said gently. “Anvaere will be devastated. And Guinevere...she needs stability, a home. She needs her family.”

“She is my family,” Moiraine shot back, her voice breaking. “I’ve given up so much already. I can’t leave her behind again. I won’t.”

Torvin took a step closer, clasping his hands together in a gentle motion. “What has changed, then? Four years ago, you came home with a whimpering baby in your arms, beggings us to take her and raise her as our own, because your life as Aes Sedai wasn’t compatible with a baby’s. Because of a mission sensitive you couldn’t even share with us. What’s different now?”

Moiraine stood before Torvin, clutching Guinevere protectively, her heart pounding in her chest, as her breathing became uneven. The older man sighed, his expression a mix of understanding and sorrow. “If this is what you’ve chosen, then I guess I can’t convince you otherwise. She is yours, as you say. But taking her now, in the middle of the night… that’s not the answer.”

She hesitated for a moment, before heading towards the door, brushing past the man. “Well, as you said, it is my choice, and I’m taking her now, whether you like it or—

“No.” A voice came from behind. She turned around, and found Anvaere and Lan rushing towards them from across the hall. “You are not taking her, Moiraine. She’s safe, she’s happy here.” Her sister explained, as she tried to take the child away from her hands.

Moiraine tightened her grip on the girl, unintentionally causing her to wake up, the toddler slowly opening her eyes. “No, you don’t understand, I can manage now—

“Can you, really?” Anvaere asked, with a sorrowful look on her face, yet still determined to get the toddler into her arms.

“Yes,” she whimpered, preventing tears from falling into her cheeks, “we can take her with us, she can come with us, she’d love all the travelling, I know—

Moiraine was interrupted by the little girl’s soft sniffles, frightened at being awakened in the middle of the night by her mother and aunt fighting, both pulling on her as if she were a prize. “Mama?” Guinevere cried, turning towards Anvaere, extending her arms towards her.

Moiraine heart shattered at that, however, she remained reluctant to let her go, or that was until someone laid a hand over her shoulder, in a gentle motion. She glanced to her side. Lan. “Come on, Moiraine.” He whispered, locking eyes with her. We shouldn’t have come. That was all it took.

She loosened her grip on Guinevere, allowing Anvaere to gently take the child from her arms. The little girl clung to her mother, burying her face in Anvaere’s shoulder, her small frame trembling with confusion and fear.

“Shh, it’s alright, Winnie. Everything’s alright,” Anvaere soothed, stroking Guinevere’s hair and whispering comforting words, as she left the room.

Moiraine watched as Anvaere carried Guinevere away, her heart breaking into pieces. The child's soft cries echoed down the hall, each one a dagger to Moiraine's stomach. Lan's hand remained on her shoulder, grounding her, but it did little to ease the pain.

"You know she can’t come with us, Moiraine," Lan said gently, his voice low and filled with understanding, “we have a mission, and we cannot fit Guinevere into it, we’d only be hurting her.”

“I-I know,” she acknowledged, cheeks burning in a burgundy shade, “I don’t know what came over me.” She added, crossing her arms over her chest, shame covering every other emotion. She felt so embarrassed. Abducting a child, in the middle of the night, removing her from the warmth and safety of her bed. Not being able to get a grip on her emotions. Losing focus on what really mattered. Betraying her and Siuan’s purpose. Find the Dragon Reborn. It was so unlike her.

Torvin smiled at her in a kind-hearted manner, as he gently rubbed the woman’s arm. “She is safe here, Moiraine. And so, so loved. She’ll be alright. And know that we will always welcome you in, should you feel the need to visit her.” Moiraine nodded, her eyes filled with unshed tears. They remained in silence, and the house seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all.

It was Anvaere, returning alone to the room, after putting Guinevere to bed, who broke the silence. “I think you should go, Moiraine.” She said, a sober expression on her face, as she intertwined her arm with Torvin’s.

Moiraine stared at her sister, realisation sinking on her like an anchor. I can’t ever see her again. The mission is too important. “I think so too.”

*************

“Guinevere, I—

“Little lady, my lady,” Jhonas interrupted them, as he barged into the room, “your sister is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

She abruptly drew her hand away, frightened by what she was about to do. Two minutes in the girl’s presence and she was already losing all caution. But this time she needed to be in the city. And she suspected she’d need her sister’s help as well, reluctant as she was to accept that.

She hurried to follow Jhonas into the drawing room, Guinevere’s steady footsteps just behind her, and went almost still, feeling the air get caught up in her throat once again at the sight of her sister. She studied her hair, she was most probably wearing a wig, in an attempt to hide the grey beneath it; she studied the wrinkles around her eyes, tired and weary; she studied the curve of her mouth, surrounded by lines. She looked so much older, not only than before, but so much older than her as well. Her little sister, worn out by time. It was a tragic vision, a deadly punch in the gut.

“You look well, little sister.” She somehow managed to say, fighting back tears.

“As you do.” She said, a pleasing smile on her face, before tilting her gaze towards someone behind her. “Winnie, you probably don’t remember her, this is your Aunt Moiraine.”

“We’ve already introduced ourselves.” Moiraine said, not bothering to glance backwards.

“I see.” Anvaere replied, the slightest glimmer of rage crossing her eyes. She then extended her arms, gesturing for the girl to come closer to her. “Winnie dearest, weren’t you heading out?” She asked her, grabbing both her hands.

“I-I was. I should be going, really.” Guinevere stuttered.

“Then get on with it, darling,” she said, kissing her forehead, “and don’t be too late.”

“I won’t.” The young girl replied. Anvaere tightened her grip on her hand. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d caused her mother to panic after not returning home before nightfall. “I promise. I’ll be going then. Goodbye Aunt Moiraine.”

“I’ll see you later, Guinevere.”

Anvaere waited until the girl was gone, until she shifted her gaze towards her sister again. “Please, sit,” she gestured towards the chair by her side, “we didn’t know—

“I won’t trouble you for tea.” Moiraine rushed to say. “I have stabled my horse, and I would use my old room, if it’s open. But I want to keep a low profile here in the city.”

“Of course, we—

“Jhonas!” She exclaimed, turning towards the older man. “Bring up a Ghaeldanin red from the cellar?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And I need a dress ordered from—

“It’s been a decade, Moiraine!” Anvaere yelled, exasperated by her lack of attention. “Sit!”

Moiraine turned towards her sister, who was trying to gain some composure after her outbreak. “Have some tea.” She asked her. And how much Moiraine wanted that, she couldn’t possibly put in into words. How’d she’d missed her little sister, her companionship, and their talks and gossip reunions. But she was on Cairhien for a mission, and one mission only. Train the Dragon Reborn. She was sure Rand was in the city, somewhere. And she had to find him.

“Perhaps lunch,” she said, and added, just before she left the room, “there’s someone I need to meet today.”

She did felt terrible, leaving her sister, who simply wanted to have tea with her, alone, after fifteen years of not seeing each other, but her duty towards Rand was too important.

She ran towards her childhood bedroom, and carefully put on some clothes. A blue dress with a lace, white turtleneck underneath, and of course the blue stone on her forehead, all with the purpose of avoiding people noticing what she was no more. She strolled around the room, reminiscing about her old self. Her book collection, her jewellery, her desk. Everything was exactly the same, covered in a thin layer of dust. Except for some things. Her music box was missing, a handful of books as well. Why would Anvaere touch such things? She closed her eyes as to clear her head, realising she was spending time she did not have, and rushed out of the door.

She picked up the wine Jhonas had left for her, and hurried out the house, before anyone saw her.

Moiraine came back home later than she’d expected, a defeated look on her face. She did not find Rand. She did not find anyone capable of saying where he was. Where he had been, yes, at the Sanitarium, but for some reason he missed work that day. She’d found out the inn he had been staying, but was there no more, since the place had apparently burned out. And Moiraine suspected Rand’d had something to do with it. Which meant she was too late. It was ridiculous to assume he would get a hold of his power in under six months, unassisted as well. She had been too late in searching for him. She’d failed. All because she’d been too focused moping about her, about losing her connection to the One Power. So egoistic. She, her problems, all of that was too unimportant in comparison to what the Wheel had prepared for Rand. She couldn’t let anything else drift her away from her mission, even when she felt she was asphixiating, fighting death every single day since she was cut out from the One Power. But she didn’t allow herself to keep on dwelling on such matters.

She let out a breath as she walked into the house, peeking through the door to her sister’s chambers, dancing shadows indicating a warm fire was burning in the fireplace. She knew she ought to go to her. She wanted to. But she couldn’t deal with her at that moment. Focus.

Moiraine walked away, towards her room, and was surprised to see Anvaere already there, waiting for her, sitting on an armchair beside the chimney. “You’ll pardon the intrusion, but I didn’t want to miss you. Please, sit.”

“Anvaere,” she sighed, putting a hand on her forehead, “I’ve had a long day. I…

“This is not what a woman should have to do to talk to the sister she spent half her life idolising.” Her little sister complained, yet somehow Moiraine felt as if she were being scolded.

“If you want me to apologise for leaving,” she replied, shaking her head, “I won’t. An Aes Sedai cannot lie.” Could she? Can I claim myself an Aes Sedai any longer?

“No, no, of course not.” Anvaere was quick to say, as Moiraine paced around the room. “In truth, you did nothing I wouldn’t have, if I could’ve channelled. Light knows I tried, on nights when our family’s future looked dim. After Uncle ruined us. After you left.” She said, with a hint of resentment on her voice. “But Father always held out hope that one day you’d come back and fix it all. You were his shining star. Shooting star, as it turned out, never to return once you left our sky. ”

“I…” Moiraine was as out of breath as she was out of words. It’s all too much. Her father, her sister, Rand, Guinevere. Siuan. She’d failed so many people. A lifetime wouldn’t be able to make up for all she’d done to them. “I would’ve come back if I could…” she murmured, taking a seat in front of her.

“Spare me the false penitence.” Anvaere brushed her off. “You had your work, and I had mine. Less important, certainly, but no less demanding. Unless the Tower also taught you how to smile after someone spits in your eye? And I endured all of it with a little boy and a newborn girl to look after. But I got on with my work, just as you did with yours. Now my son is going to marry the Queen, and my daughter is the youngest Aes Sedai in years, and nobody will ever spit on House Damodred again.”

Moiraine stared at her, sadness almost tangible on her eyes. “You’ve done well, little sister. Better than I would’ve done with the hand you were dealt.”

“Thank you, Moiraine.” Anvaere nodded, a smug grin on her face. “But somehow, finally, I don’t care what you think. I’m not here for your approval. I’m here because you will not endanger what I’ve worked all my life to build. You will not endanger Guinevere again.”

Moiraine stood up, anger building up on her chest. It infuriated her, the way they talked about Guinevere, about her daughter, around her, as if she were any less concerned for her safety than them. “Sister, I truly am not—

“This is not your house. This is not your city.” She is no longer your daughter. “And I’m not your little sister anymore. All the eyes and ears you had here… they’re mine now. The head of the sanitarium, Celestin. The guard you hailed at the gate, Sandair. If you want to know where that redheaded boy in the inn went… you’re going to have to ask me very nicely, over tea.” Anvaere proclaimed, her lips turning into an arrogant smile, as she handed her a cup of tea, leaving Moiraine with no other choice than to accept it.

Lanfear. It had to be her, it all fitted together. Rand was in danger, the fate of the world was in peril. Moiraine waited until Anvaere left, before she hurried into some more comfortable clothes: a loose pair of pants and a chape would do. She searched for a sword on a coffin she kept in her chambers, and placed it on her back, attached with a leather string. She opened the door to her room in a hurry, and almost collided into Guinevere, who was standing just there, with a box full of items on her arms, about to knock on the door. Moiraine found it hard not to gasp. She knew it’d be unavoidable, running into the girl, and she was prepared for it, as she had years of practing forcing her emotions confined, but nonetheless she found herself in stupor, each time she saw her. It feels like looking into a mirror.

“Oh, Aunt Moiraine,” she muttered, equally shocked, grasping on the box about to fall out of her arms, “I just wanted you to give you these—

“I don’t have time, Guinevere.” She said, walking past her, not sparing her a second glance. It wasn’t easy, turning her down like that, but it was for the best.

“Where are you going so late in the night?” The girl asked, curiosity evident in her voice, as she steadily followed her steps.

“This doesn’t concern you.” Moiraine snapped at her, rather harshly, but it didn’t seem to upset the girl, who was too busy examing her thoroughly.

“And with a sword on your back…” Guinevere muttered, suddenly going quiet, as realisation fell upon her. “You can’t touch the One Power.” She whispered. “You’ve been stilled.”

Moiraine stopped abruptly on her tracks, and turned around, holding back tears, pursing her lips into a dangerously fine line. She stared at her, an intense rush of anger reaching towards the girl, as she silently begged her not to comment on it anymore.

“Then take me with you.” Guinevere promptly said. “Whatever it is you have to do, whoever you need to fight, especially if you need a sword with you… take me.”

Moiraine fell silent, her mind racing. It did make sense, to have someone who could actually touch the Source go with her. Taking Guinevere with her, even if she were putting the girl in terrible danger, would be the cautious thing to do. The prudent, so evidently obvious and sensible thing to do… if finding Rand was indeed what mattered to her the most in the world.

“No.” She finally snarled, getting on with her path. And yet Guinevere followed. Moiraine was reminded of something Siuan had told her a few years ago, shortly after Guinevere had joined the Tower. She’s as stubborn as her mother.

“But Aunt Moiraine, you’ll need—

“I don’t need anything from you.” Moiraine said, forcing cruelty into her voice. “I can manage on my own, Guinevere.”

The girl stared back at her, dejection filling her eyes, as years of resentment and built up anger stiffened her body, yet keeping a straight face. “Fine.” She shrugged her shoulders, voice laced with poison. “Go. I don’t care.”

Moiraine turned around, as she couldn’t stand one more second of all the loathing directed her way, and left. I’m so sorry I’ve failed you too.

********

Chapter 3 here!

#wheel of time #moiraine x siuan #moiraine sedai #moiraine damodred #the wheel of time #siuraine #siuan sanche #anvaere damodred #moiraine and lan #rand al'thor x original female character #rand al'thor #mother!moiraine #moiraine fanfic #egwene al'vere #nynaeve al'meara #lanfear #elayne trakand #wot #wot on prime

16 notes · View notes