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Child's Play (NSFW)

Morraine Damodred x Fem! Reader, Lanfear x Fem!Reader NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Underneath Morraine's watchful tutelage, the reader takes up a mission, using her unique wielding abilities to spy upon Lanfear and the Dragon reborn. The ensuing chaos brings about Lanfear's wrath, making complicated the already strained relationship between Morraine and her mentee.

Warnings: Sexual undertones, straight sex between Lanfear and Rand, (witnessed by reader), sex between Morraine and reader alluded to and explicitly defined as reader receiving, Lanfear is there too but you'll understand if you read it.

A/N: Heavily inspired by this AMAZING dream I had. I am a Morraine stan always. I will kiss the ground that woman walks on. Lanfear is also horrendously hot and I fear that my ovaries will never recover from her face card.

Word Count: 6.2k

She sleeps so softly in that humid tent, her breath filling the air with the same moisture that yours leaves with every breath. Beneath the folds of your bed roll, you trace her skin ever so slightly, feeling the stickiness of damp flesh.

It was done out of necessity, Morraine insisted. The night was cold, the ground frostbitten and the wind ragged through the trees. One bedroll to insulate, the other to hold your bodies together in a toasty cocoon. Everything she’d instructed that night had been done with discretion, the gentle command to strip down, to discard all garments lest you sweat through them in your sleep. Sweat would make you vulnerable to the cold in the coming morning. Sweat could mean the difference between life and death. Why she made the effort for you and not Lan was beyond your understanding.

Sleep was hard to come by recently. It was anxiety that kept you awake, clinging to awareness like a peasant clinging to a timid flame. Morraine was no help, every soft brush of skin reminded you of how close the two of you were, how her body sagged against yours until tummy and bosom pressed against the other’s. The comfort was coincidental, a remnant of human experience left within your duty driven heart. Morraine taught you, fed you, dressed you and kept you. Your abilities were interlinked to her and her cause. Few nights you escaped this burden. This night you were afraid to, even if this touch was far more innocent than others you'd exchanged.

“… You’re not sleeping.” Morraine mumbled, surfacing out of her slumber like a swimmer coming up for air.

An uncomfortable feeling of exposure followed, the surprise and apprehension of being caught by a woman who was forever seeing through you.

“Can’t.” you admitted, begrudgingly pressing your face against her neck when a hand guided your skull.

Morraine tried not to mother you. Whether it wasn’t in her nature, or was merely discretionary, you rarely felt that familiar twinge of affection. Hands guided yours during practices, at most a hand on your stomach to remind you to breathe, to channel from the base of your being. Tonight she was breaking all of the rules you’d come to rely on, or at least the rules she generally lived by.

“You must.” she countered, one of her arms tightening firmly around your body.

A grumble tumbled out of your throat before you could filter it, much to Morraine’s amusement.

“Just because the world can’t see you, can’t feel you, doesn’t mean I can’t hear you.” Morraine chuckled, interlacing her fingers at the base of your skull.

You half expected her to start rocking you, to coo softly in your ear like you were a small child that needed coaxing. Morraine didn’t, still only just holding you close, wrapped tight in the bed roll.

“Must I place you on my breast? Relax.” Morraine gently corrected, tugging your hair with enough force to jerk you into awareness.

Embarrassment followed her comment, though you bit it down in favor of obedience. Both of your arms encircled her body in turn, giving her the opportunity to pull the flaps of the bedroll tighter. Your nose was cold against her collarbone, the chill of the night apparent, even in your snug positions. A stunned flush bloomed across your face, cheeks and ears hot as you processed her words. Though you’d only toyed with the fantasy of Morraine in quiet, private moments, such a blunt description of your positions-positions she could put you in-brought your thoughts spiraling into appalling corners. Morraine had Lan to guard her, Lan to bathe with her and in the tower she had Siuane. She wasn’t available for the meanderings of a dumb, remarkably gifted and pathetically untrained channeler like you. You were useful, and that was the end of it.

A low groan reminded you of Lan’s proximity. The warder was cautious, reliable and deeply loyal to Morraine. He’d been a character from the start, distrusting of the figure that navigated the world like a chameleon, blending in by sheer power of persuasion. For all intents and purposes, you had the ability to be so remarkably dull, so unappealing to the eye that most gazes would glaze right over you. Morraine had labeled it ‘compulsion’; the ability to manipulate thoughts, ideas, and perspectives with the One Power. Years of self-defense, self-reliance and whatever core root of bad luck the world had bestowed on you resulted in a terribly double-edged ability to disappear.

But for eyes like Morraine’s, you stuck out like a tiger in a jungle. Everyone else was colorblind to your orange coat, blind to your peculiarity, but Morraine was like you. She could see the world through the lens of peculiarity, catching onto your oddness with a pair of psychic, trichromatic eyes. It had been frightening, and beautiful to find another like you. More frightening was her touch, the sudden assurances of your worth. And yet you found yourself craving each motion of her hands over your spine.

“Slow the mind and the body will follow.” Morraine murmured, voice husky as she fought against the familiar gravity of slumber.

You wondered briefly if she was going to use your own power against you, push a command into your subconscious until you slumbered. Once, a few moons ago, Morraine had stamped you with a harsh lesson. Compulsion was a beautiful, difficult gift, one that she’d briefly flung back at you one misty morning. No such pressure came, no burning in your temples as your body snapped to her will. Only the soft caress of your neck, the warmth of naked flesh against yours.

The world slowed as her chest rose and fell, regular and soothing. Comfort filled the crevices of the bed roll, and your mind slipped off into the temporary oblivion of sleep.

.,:;’”*^**•*^;:,.

Sun burnt through the fog of early morning. You were still blinking slowly, fighting against the soreness of your feet as you traversed through the unfamiliar wood. Morraine drew behind you, Lan ten paces up, bringing up the front. Your stomach growled and clenched painfully as you walked, the reminder of a cold, regretfully small breakfast of bread and cured ham. There would be no lunch, or supper for that matter, until you reached the closest village. That didn’t coax any more motivation into your aching body.

“Lan, stop.” Morraine called, drawing up behind you as your party halted in a small thatch of woodland.

You'd been dragging behind them for several kilometers, favoring your left foot. A sore spot brought pain with every step, a small burst of pressure that had you limping over misty ground.

“Show me your foot.” Morraine quietly instructed, letting you rest on a fallen log.

Pain bloomed in your heel as she tugged your boot off followed by relief. The bottom of your stocking was wet with fluid, yellowing from dirt and whatever else was compacted at the base of your boot.

“How long has this been here?”

The log was hard and uncomfortable against your thighs, but the relief of sitting down was immediate.

“I put moleskin on the blister yesterday. I don’t remember feeling it pop.” you said, only half-truthful.

Cold air bit against your exposed heel as Morraine examined the blister. You recognized the sudden swirl of light that came around her hands as she pressed a small healing weave into your skin. The pain ceased immediately.

“We need to make haste. They won't linger in this next town for long, and I need answers sooner than later." Morraine decidedly finished, pulling your sock and your boot back on without a second thought.

Her cheeks were flushed with the cold, nose red at the tip. She wore no hat, bearing the cold like one more force she had to fight against, to endure it in stubborn fashion like she endured the rest. Your gait was quicker now, the ease of matching her pace came rapidly without the pain in your heel. There was something embarrassing about being caught lingering, or at least looking too closely at Morraine in quiet company. But the pace she took, the way she over-analyzed the terrain in front of her gave you the opportunity to skirt furtive glances over her as she walked, to watch the dip of her mouth as it pursed in frustration.

Lan kept behind her, knowing well enough when it was time to let her advance without interference. You required no protection of his, not at the moment. To any traveler walking past, to any villager or common folk that cast a glance in your direction, they would see only Morraine and her Warder, Lan, hiking up the rocky ground. Not even your shadow as you hit the sun would stir any awareness.

You paused for only a moment at a stream, resting before the three of you made journey across it.

"What you must understand, young one," Morraine began, her eyes casting a firm sincerity into your own, "Is that Lanfear will be smarter than you."

The suddenness of her counsel momentarily stunned you, your weaves temporarily wavering, much to Lan's surprise. A half-shadow, perhaps a glimmer of a figure was all he saw before your disembodied voice answered Morraine's.

"I thought as much."

"The boy she's with, the Dragon as we suspect, won't likely see her for what she is. But if she sees you, if she catches the barest whiff of your presence, your weaves alone won't save you." Morraine sighed, reaching for your canteen.

The water bent beneath her hands as she filled the metal canister, brow pinched as she pondered.

"I won't draw too close." you answered her, taking the metal canister back.

"You mustn't. Your very life is at stake. Your weaves are only useful from a great distance. Swear to me you will not use them when you get close." she insisted, adjusting her robes as she made forward.

You let air fill and leave your lungs once more before you answered. Leaving the protective cover of your cloak of compulsion was difficult, painful at times. The force you constantly exerted into the practice was routine, a hum in your sternum that felt as comfortable as your heart pumping steadily in your chest. Leaving it, even for a few hours, felt distinctly hollow.

"I promise."

Morraine held your gaze for a long moment, nodding once.

"Drop the compulsion now. I want to ensure you'll be ready." Morraine said, following Lan as he began walking forward once more. "You can pick it back up when we get close to the village."

A breath in. A breath out. With every step of your feet you made the conscious effort to drop the weave a little at a time. Beads of light around your wrist slipped into oblivion one by one. Lan glanced back once, noting the suddenness of your appearance.

"It's good to have you back." he smiled once, offering his hand.

.,:;’”*^**•*^;:,.

The small village was distinctly quiet as you moved forward, hanging close to Morraine as she bartered for horses. Information wasn't something Morraine needed, thus the exchange was blissfully short. A third horse was procured, fitted with Morraine and Lan's packs to complete the appearance of a pack horse. A small clearing appeared as the horse traversed through the village, ears flicking back in alarm as your footsteps followed it.

"Easy, easy." you whispered, dropping the compulsion slowly, until the large animal saw you in full view.

Even with your appearance, the bay remained shifty, nose flaring as you mounted it with ease.

"It smells your fear." Morraine commented carefully, slowing the pace of her horse. "Breathe through it. Anxiety will make you stupid once we reach the ruins."

Emptiness echoed in your sternum as you followed your companions, forcing down the urge to draw up your weaves until you were surrounded with a distant hum of white light. Thin as silk, like spiderwebs drawn around your skin. The world was seeing you once more, and visibility was no more comforting than vulnerability.

Large spindles of white stretched up in the distance, the ruins of some colossal structure left to rot. A ruin from the Age of Legends, a stone and metal left out of superstition, out of fear of the power it once held. Your horse stopped far before you had hoped, trembling slightly as its ears pointed forward. There was no comment to be made as you moved forward, abandoning Lan and Morraine with only one glance backwards. This journey forwards was yours, and yours alone to be made.

Greenery grew over stunning white slabs of granite as you crept closer. Some pieces sat more organically than others, the remnants of an attempt at reconstruction, as you assumed. Most stone lay in disarray, tumbled about like a great explosion had occurred, a force of power far greater than a cannonball. Morraine had said that this had once been the Collum Daan, a large floating structure that had fallen when the Dark One had been released. Nothing like it had ever been made since, and you shuddered to think of the force of the impact it must've suffered to twist large sheets of metal into crumpled, black remnants.

A small clearing broke through, sunlight peeking through the clouds and making bare an altar of earth still covered with frostbitten ivy. Two figures sat, or perhaps laid against a uniform slab of marble, creating a break, an interruption in the otherwise chaotic wreckage. Lanfear and the young Dragon, tangled up on a bed of fabric.

Morraine had warned you of many things. Lanfear would be cunning, magnetic, distinctly other to your heightened senses. The stories your mentor had told painted her as some witch, a hag full of malice and cruelty, crooked and bearing the wear of her three thousand year existence. Not beautiful, certainly. But spying out from a shattered pillar, that was only what she could be.

Her head was thrown back, hair dark as night slipping over her shoulders like oil. Skin pale white, milky and not bearing a single sign of fragility to the cold as her robe hung loosely around her wrists and hips. Only the barest whisper of age betrayed her, frozen forever in youthful splendor as she stared down at a boy only a few years past maturity. Not only stared, you realized, gawking as dark mauve nipples sat perked upon her swaying chest. She was coupling with him, ensnaring him with nothing but her gaze and her body.

The dragon himself was uninspiring in comparison, flushed cheeks and face screwed up into an adolescent mask of pleasure. It was Lanfear you were enamored by, watching as she met his hips with urgent thrusts of her own. Everything about her demeanor spoke of power, of authority and sureness of self that a wiser person would find off-putting for a woman who looked no more than twenty five. This was a performance, a spectacle of eroticism and candid lust that the man-child beneath her was drinking in, practically gulping down in awe.

"No, no, not yet." Lanfear breathlessly cooed, continuing to ride him without the slightest indication of exertion, aside from a mere shimmer of sweat down her sternum.

Rand grunted stupidly, screwing his eyes shut as he fought against his own youth. The blue robe that pooled around her hips obscured a direct view of their union, though you knew that it was happening. Flesh slapped crudely against flesh as their coupling continued, both intriguing and revolting from your place hidden behind a crumbling pillar. You expected to find her sitting with him, perhaps spelling out the history of the place around them, not fucking him! The longer you watched, the more you realized how ill-prepared you were for this, how poorly placed Morraine's faith in your abilities, and in your natural demeanor for invisibility was.

"Please, Selene!" Rand gasped, gripping her hips roughly as his face grew redder.

"Not yet." she cooed, continuing to grind her hips down in spirited strokes.

The sound of his voice cut through your panic-driven voyeuristic haze. Selene, a false name, just as Morraine had predicted. The boy was under Lanfear's lies, or at least a victim to the falsehood of her identity. You gulped down whatever fear churned in your throat, making yourself as small as you could manage, willing your mind to make you as timid as a mouse. If you thought like the stone, bearing no sense of oneness, you could disappear without trembling into weaving territory. Merely existing without noise, as you'd long practiced, was your mission.

As the boy yelled out his completion, you willed yourself to remain disconnected, watching without truly comprehending as his body trembled beneath the goddess above him.

"Now. You couldn't wait?" Lanfear groaned, pouting in a display of childishness that seemed simultaneously fitting and deeply insulting to the nature of her youth.

"I'm sorry, really, I am-" Rand stuttered, cut off by the swift press of lips to his own.

Her spine rippled as she moved, bones distinctly prominent, as prominent as the rest. Sharp and sensual, deadly. 'Daughter of the night'.

"Again." she purred, beginning to rock her hips, even as he trembled beneath her.

From beside you a small mouse stirred, sensing nothing out of the ordinary about your place molded into the stone. It clawed its way up your tunic, burrowing into your clothes for warmth. Bile slid up your throat as you felt a revoltingly wet nose against your stomach, breaking your concentration, the force of will that kept you from being a person, with personal thoughts. The critter squeaked in alarm, drawing Lanfear's gaze right to the stone wall that shielded you. Eyes dark as the moonlight, and no less blue, cast suspiscious glances around. Her nose was prominent and sharp, as perfectly proportioned as the rest of her. It inspired fear, awe, desire, lust. Emotions as complicated as they were deadly.

"Pests." she growled, giving Rand a momentary reprieve as she stood, a stick clutched in her hand firmly.

A strong jaw, prominent nose and two sculpted eyebrows made up the haunting structure of her face. A gaze that could've been soft in other lights made up a cold mask of determination as she stalked forward, small breasts trembling with the force of her footsteps as she made towards you.

With one last burst of determination, you managed to throw the mouse out, leaving it to skitter away, shrieking with fear as Lanfear drew a stick hard upon the earth. A wet squelch of bone and meat filled the cavernous space, your heart pounding in your ears as you fought against your urge to gulp down air. Her footsteps faded, an unintelligible grunt from Rand as you assumed she mounted him once more. You let your head fall against the stone, willing your composure back bit by bit. Controlled, painful breaths brought back the natural rhythm of your heart, though your tranquility was deeply disturbed. It was all for naught, however.

"… There's the looker." a voice husked, a puff of wet air against the back of your ear.

Terror clawed its way into your chest, the alarm at being entirely caught off guard, of being tricked by your own senses. Your body shot up like a bolt of lightning, though your cloak was momentarily snagged, and snatched by your assailant. Each step away from Lanfear felt futile, a thwack of sound, a whistle shooting by your ear as you tumbled over alabaster stairs. Pain bit up through your left shoulder, a gash of fire, a burst of lightning or something worse, you couldn't be sure. Adrenaline, the basic force behind your desire to survive propelled you over rocks, weaves of the One Power meandering aimlessly from your hands as you pressed with every ounce of your being to survive, to get out of the ruins and back to Morraine. You would die if you didn't make it to Morraine.

White-hot pain ached from your shoulder with every motion of your arm, every twist of your torso. The rubble beneath you made it difficult to flee, difficult for you to get away, to escape from the Forsaken you could only assume was hot on your heels.

"Get back here! Stupid girl!" a voice shouted, both farther and more distant than you could have accounted for.

Nothing about this fight seemed right, nothing about the suddenness of Lanfear's presence, nor the sheer luck of surviving added up. Even as your feet slapped against marshy soil you couldn't make sense of it, your heart beating like a wild drum in your chest, thundering in painful bursts.

"Morraine!" you wheezed, coughing and sputtering for air as you made for the protective overgrowth where you assumed she would be hidden.

No voice greeted yours, no call of your name, no answer at all, at least a human. Frantic hoof beats came from your left, a whinny of fear as your horse bucked wildly, eyes wide and mouth foaming in shock.

"Shh, shh." you tried, waving your hands and trying to calm the animal.

Nothing you did seemed to ease the beast, a hoof flying too close to your head, the animal pivoting in confusion. It had no idea where you were, prancing wildly as it beat at the ground in alarm. You'd been channeling when Lanfear had spooked you, channeling as you'd sent bursts of energy back in response to her injury. The horse had no way of seeing you, no way of truly registering your presence. Dropping the weave felt like standing up drunk, the world wavering beneath you as you sought to keep standing solidly on your two feet. Only after locating you did the beast calm, but even then it took far longer than you were comfortable with to mount it.

The forest passed like a stream, colors blending in together as you struggled to grip the reins. Your left hand responded poorly, gripping with limited strength at the leather. Every jolt of the saddle brought fresh stinging to the injury, though you were hardly bleeding heavily. The longer you rode, the more alarmed you became. Morraine was nowhere to be found, though you were heading farther than the agreed location. Her name was hoarse on your throat, the horse slowing to a winded canter long before you lost your stamina.

Frustrated, fearful tears slid down your cheeks as you dismounted, letting the animal suck down water from a nearby gully. Your cloak was stuck to your back, the mere attempt to pull it off yourself sparking agony in your injured shoulder. Had Lanfear burnt you? Fused skin and fabric together with a flame from her hand?

"Morraine?" you wheezed once more, crying into your knees as your horse foraged beside you.

The sky slipped low over the horizon, dusk making the chance of discovery all the more futile. Exhaustion, hunger, and pain made dull your senses, the remaining bedroll strapped to the saddle a poor comfort. Footsteps drawing near, the sound of unfamiliar horse hooves didn't register. What travelers did find you made no difference. Morraine had abandoned you, left you injured and vulnerable in an unfamiliar wood.

"… Sedai?" a gentle baritone called, a hand pulling the hood of your cloak back.

Lan's brown eyes met yours, concern and relief on his face. You half-expected him to embrace you, but the pressure of his hand on your injured shoulder caused you to yelp in pain.

"Morraine!" Lan shouted, his voice met with the distant sound of hoof beats.

The Warder was gentle as he helped you sit, eyeing your injured shoulder carefully. You felt Morraine before you saw her, her hands draping firmly around your waist as she examined you.

"Stupid child." she gasped,fingers tracing around the wound. "You're lucky it was just an arrow."

An arrow, a hunter's injury. Relief and amazement filled you as you slumped into her arm, letting Lan carefully break off the end of the projectile, yelping softly into Morraine's shoulder as the pain momentarily worsened.

"She wasn't going to channel if the boy didn't know her true identity, of course." Morraine gasped, one hand protective on the back of her head. "We've been looking for you for hours, why didn't you meet us at the river?"

Resentment clawed its way into your throat, making bitter your words, the pain in your shoulder dull as you dug your nails into her back.

"I did! I followed the river north, just as you told me to!"

"The river runs east to west, you stupid girl!" Morraine answered, the distant hum of her weaves making clear her intentions. "Pull it out, Lan."

A stab of fresh agony bloomed out from your shoulder, killing any further argument. You wailed once, muffling your cries into Morraine's body. Her weave was swift, sewing skin and tendon back together, though the pain still lingered.

"Her horse is still in good shape."

"Then it will be a pack horse. She'll ride with me until we make it to my summer house." Morraine said firmly, pulling you up with limited gentleness.

Out of all the things you felt in that moment; anger, disbelief, gratitude, lingering abandonment; exhaustion was the most notable. It took all of your strength to mount Morraine's horse once more, your arms tight around her midsection as you sagged against her back. The wind was bitter, ripping into your sides as Morraine led the group, and yet she was warm, her clothes well insulated and soft against your cheek. Sleep caught you, and you slipped in and out of consciousness through the journey, dimly aware of the dismount from her horse, hardly processing Lan's grunt as he carried you through unfamiliar stone halls.

.,:;’”*^**•*^;:,.

Gentle hands scratched slowly at your scalp, rhythmic motions designed to soothe, to relax. There was nothing purely conscious about the way you curled into the warmth of the body beside you; it was instinctual to burrow in closer, to accept this tenderness for what it was at face value. Careless, yes. The woman beside you smelled familiar, felt familiar, laced your body with a crippling sense of safety. You burrowed in further, ignoring the strange numbness of the world around you.

"Little one, shh…" a voice whispered, similar in tone to Morraine's, but odd in cadence.

Tender lips traced over your ear, teeth snagging over the lobe. You grunted once, registering the sensual act with a burst of pleasure in your abdomen. You let your vision slowly sharpen as hands molded to your backside, massaging and groping your butt fondly. Moans slipped unbidden from your throat, small whimpers of lust at her touch. Morraine, you assumed. Only Morraine had ever touched you like this, and you would only ever hope for her to touch you forever more.

"There, there. I know. Let me make it better." she whispered sweetly, a hand hooking under your nightgown, pulling it over your hips.

You let her touch you, kiss your neck and your jaw without the slightest resistance. Many months had passed since your lips had met hers, since you'd shared a drunken passion made of desperation and overwhelming lust. The experience had been duplicitous, complicated for your relationship. It had made many things harder, the mentorship, your trust in her, the integrity of her character questionable. But there was no denying how you'd craved it, how the night spent naked and close in one bedroll had ignited that familiar longing into a raging fire.

"Morraine…" you whimpered, gulping down her touch like the holy grail, willing it to revitalize the wilting crop of your yearning.

She maneuvered you onto your back, letting the bed creak ominously beneath you without worry. Your hands tangled in her hair, your legs wrapped around her waist. Begging, pleading, whispering soft words of longing into her head of honey-blonde hair. When her hands slipped under your underwear you didn't flinch away, snap your legs shut in alarm like the first time. Rather your legs parted further, inviting-begging-her to continue.

"Patience." she corrected, hands firm and supportive against your hips.

You felt the dip of the bed beneath her as she inched down, the covers dragged under her armpits. Each of your thighs parted loosely around her ribs, her lips tracing tender kisses across your bare stomach. Every flutter of your heart felt erratic, shaky breaths echoing across the small room as you braced for her touch. Excitement and dread warred in your gut, calmed by a sincere kiss there. Your head fell back, eyes shut as you let the path of her kisses relax you further into the trance.

Only when her mouth met the seam of your center did you moan without restraint, thighs clenching bitterly around the confines of her shoulders as her tongue probed gently. Slow laps up and down, tender circles around your entrance. Desire made you weak, wet beneath her touch, a shudder under every gasp. It took little to do you under, to have you grunting and gasping for air as Morraine brought you closer, ever closer to climax. With one low moan she finally parted from you, whispering one command against your throbbing clit.

"Look at me, please." she gasped, dragging your head up both from separation and curiosity.

Your bleary eyes took in the hands that held your thighs, the ruby lips parted in a gasp. Hair messy and loose, blue eyes dilated and wanting. Your mouth parted in a scream, a horrible wail of dread as you took in the rest of her face. A pig's nose sat at the center of her face, canines dangerously close to your pubic mound.

It was too little too late, your mind reaching a horrible conclusion just a millisecond before the perverted image of Morraine attacked, sinking it's teeth into the meat of your thigh.

"Lanfear!"

"…. up, wake up, wake up, child WAKE UP!"

The hand that shook you from your nightmare wasn't the same hand that had gripped your thigh, tearing at your muscle like a wild animal in the dream. It was sympathetic, full of tenderness and it roused you from your stupefied, trapped state. Desperate gasps, feeble sobs echoed dimly off the stone chamber. It took several minutes of Morraine's distant coaxing, tender reassurance to bring you into reality. Your body hung like a limp rag in her arms, tears dampening the neckline of her nightgown as you heaved against the solidness of her body.

"I should've known she would tear into you." Morraine murmured, silk robe hanging loose as she leaned into you.

Frantic breaths echoed dull off of the colossal room. Dark stone polished like bone, shaped in airy twists pleasing to the eye. Morraine's noble house. You did your best to focus on the details dimly lit by the approaching dawn, but few things calmed you as much as your mentor's decidedly real presence did. Morraine's slightly sour breath pulled at your nose, and you focused on it, letting the sureness of her body soothe you. Numbness followed, the after-cry haze folding you into yourself.

"… It was just a nightmare. She bit me in the dream, Lanfear did. A woman wearing your body with a boar's mouth." you managed, slipping numbly into the soothing cavern of Morraine's arms.

Tenderness wasn't her strong suit. You knew it to be true, and yet you couldn't deny that the memory of Morraine's own hands, caressing and coaxing like Lanfear's had violently mirrored remained unspoiled. The Forsaken had tried to put a barrier between yourself and your mentor, had ripped right into one of the most confusing recollections to date, the most confusing memories you had, and yet she'd failed. Not for lack of understanding, but for lack of knowing. Morraine was many things, but ill-prepared was not one. You sank further into her chest until your face sagged against her bosom, breathing in faint traces of cedar wood and amber. More startlingly, she let you.

"Tell me everything. Be explicit." she finally answered.

It was another trap to let yourself be this vulnerable, to let yourself trust the gentleness shown to you in this moment. It might've been guilt, the same guilt that had shown on her face as Morraine wove a healing weave into the gash on your shoulder. What had happened at the ruins of the Collum Da'an was entirely Morraine's fault, at least from her perspective. The information you'd gained had been inconsequential compared to the consequence of exposure.

"… Promise you won't be mad?" you stupidly whispered, embarrassed by your need for reassurance, and yet desperately desiring it regardless.

"Of course." she answered without hesitation.

Your nose sought out the small divot between her collarbones, seeking the familiar purchase for merely a moment's reprieve.

"… I dreamt of something similar to the night at the Twin Rivers. The night we…"

Tears sparked in your eyes, fear and shame making it difficult to explain just how terrible and wonderful the dream had been, impossible to describe the facts without sounding pathetically influenced by the setting.

"I experienced that intimacy in the dream. And it was you Lanfear impersonated, aside from the boar mouth and the biting."

Her body tensed beneath you for a moment, and then relaxed, a hand returning to the gentle circular motion at your lower back. Momentarily shocked, but not truly surprised. It was a good thing, it meant that Morraine didn't entirely blame you for the interaction.

"Lanfear is said to use vulnerable or painful memories to torment victims. She twists them, makes them worse. Breaking the trust between us would be highly beneficial, it would make us disjointed," Morraine mused, pulling the wool blanket higher around your shoulders, "I'm proud of you for recognizing it was Lanfear."

Proud. A rare and valuable praise, a gift in Morraine's world. There were few moments Morraine had ever experienced pride, both in herself and from others. Receiving it meant that you had not only succeeded in meeting her expectations, but surpassed them entirely. Then again this was sensitive territory for you both.

"… It was cruel." you answered, praying she would let this moment continue, let you continue holding her close.

"That's Lanfear's specialty. She wouldn't be Forsaken if she gave people good dreams, now would she?" Moraine teased, loosening her grip on you.

Her bed sat across the room, bigger and far more comfortable than the pallet you were sprawled on. A bed fit for the noble lady she was. It stung, both to know her absence was rational, and to still yearn for her to make an exception and stay.

"Well. I doubt she'll try you twice in one night." Morraine simply said, tucking the blanket in around you before stiffly standing.

It occurred to you that Morraine had roused you moments after the dream turned violent. Had she been keeping watch this entire time? Dawn was approaching, her sleep would be sorely impacted if she skipped it tonight.

"Morraine, could she torment you?"

The Aes Sedai made no direct reaction to your question, rather she turned subtly, resting to a sit on the silk bed.

"I have no idea." she answered honestly,

"Maybe I should watch over you for a while," you gently suggested, already rising out of your bed, "I doubt I'll sleep anyways, after that." you added.

Morraine sighed once, slipping under her covers with quiet resignation. One hand twitched, and finally she gestured you up. The signal was met with your immediate obedience, even if you scolded yourself for being too eager. Perhaps she was as desperate for rest as you were for comfort, but comparison wasn't a pretty ideal for either of you.

It shouldn't have surprised you that her bed was softer, and far warmer than yours, but you felt it anyways. Not envy, nor jealousy, but the twinge of longing that closeness to Morraine would certainly bring you. Presence, a watchful eye was all you assumed Morraine requested, and so you made no move to curl into her body, to assume the closeness you'd basked in merely moments before. Almost a year of familiarity made you feel entitled to understanding Morraine's sentiments, her wants and her desires. And still you were surprised every time when she bent under her humanity.

"Closer." Morraine prompted gently, her hand gently tracing over yours. "It's cold."

You nodded dumbly in agreement, curling around her, spooning her in tentative motions. She was soft and solid in your arms, her stomach relaxed as it rose and fell beneath her hand. Hair spooled out beneath your face on the pillow, and you let it tickle you without a care.

"Closer." Morraine spoke again, tugging at your arm.

Closer. The words slipped softly into your mind, and you let yourself snuggle into her until her bottom sat flush against your pelvis, your face in her neck. Maybe the last time she would ever allow it, now that you were traveling back to the White Tower, towards Siuane. And still you snuck in a gentle kiss to her neck, still you pretended you didn't feel the way her stomach trembled beneath your hand.

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