#mywot

[birgittesilverbae]

[cozcat]

Moiraine and Siuan + first meeting (can be in any life) for the three sentence fic prompt

The life you are getting is a modern AU I have been daydreaming about since jetlag made me lose my mind over a rowboat in Prague.

The first time Moiraine sees her, it is by chance: she doesn't usually get a coffee on a Wednesday, but she had time today, and she is so transfixed by this woman - her dimples, the fall of her braids down her back - that she doesn't hear them call out her name.

The second time she sees her, it is chance once again: the same bakery on a Sunday afternoon, fifteen minutes before it closes, and this time, Moiraine first notices the bike helmet slung over the woman's elbow, and second, the way that her eyes are warm, dark, so deep she could drown in them.

The third time, she had planned for it, tried to anticipate an impossible pattern, so that the words would not die on her tongue, but they cross paths by the canal on a Saturday morning, and Moiraine almost chokes as she asks, "I keep seeing you around, and I just wanted to ask, what is your name?"

(three sentence microfic meme)

[cozcat]

in that sleep of death, what dreams may come

After her death, a Dreamer wakes in Tel'aran'rhiod.

Or, a post-finale fix-it that follows the path laid out by the books, except where it won't.

chapter 4: interlude

“You’re the only ones left of your inept little cabal. Every feeble little achievement has been bought in blood that it was not worth the effort to waste, and followed tenfold by failure. I’ve had to do myself what you were sent out to do, and yet, you think you’re enough to be one of us – and don’t you dare pretend you’ve not had the thought.”

A little once-off in another point of view, while I remember how to write again.

(read from start)

[cozcat]

in that sleep of death, what dreams may come (chapter 3)

Wheel of Time, chapter 3 of more, 4451 words

The girl stares at her. Siuan cannot look away. She schools her features – she has to. Meet the fear, the rage, the doubt in the girl’s eyes with something calm. But the girl’s shoulders are stiff with every breath. Her jaw twitches, as though biting back something. It seems an eternity that they are watching each other – Egwene in fury, Siuan waiting for that fury to pass. Until finally, the girl brings herself to speak. “You’re dead,” Egwene murmurs, her nostrils flaring. “You can’t be here.” Siuan matches her pitch, and murmurs in return, “And yet, I’m here.” “No, you’re dead,” Egwene repeats, nostrils flaring. “You were executed. You’re not supposed to be here. You’re no Hero of the Horn, you’re just human, and you’re dead.” “But I’m here,” Siuan says, and now, it is a fight to keep her voice low, even, soft. “Repeating yourself won’t change that.” She pauses, and listens, enough to match the pace of her breathing to Egwene’s. “In fact, girl, I’d suspect that were you to drop dead tomorrow, you’d wake up here too.”

After her death, a Dreamer wakes in Tel'aran'rhiod.

Or, a post-finale fix-it that follows the path laid out by the books, except where it won’t.

Eventual Siuan/Moiraine, I promise.

chapter 3 | read from beginning

[cozcat]

in that sleep of death, what dreams may come

Wheel of Time, chapter 1 of more, 4143 words

Siuan wakes with her cheek pressed against familiar cold stone, her body sprawled in a way that should leave her back aching, but her only sensation is awareness. Cold stone against her cheek, against her bare arms. Cold air. Cold silence surrounding her. It is her, twenty-two empty seats, and that cloying silence. She knows where she is. She can guess why she is here. She can’t bear to think about it, not yet.

After her death, a Dreamer wakes in Tel'aran'rhiod.

Or, a post-finale fix-it that follows the path laid out by the books, except where it won't.

Eventual Siuan/Moiraine, I promise.

read on AO3

[cozcat]

3 sentence fic prompt: slick

once again, Siuaraine; once again, modern AU, and for all intents and purposes, any modern AU fics for this meme are in the same universe unless specified

The frying pan looks less like Moiraine is making pancakes and more like a microcosm of an international environmental disaster caused by an off-shore oil rig, and it is too early for a weekend for Siuan to deal with this, so she asks, “Do you want me to do the actual cooking?”

Moiraine shrugs, and Siuan decants as much oil as she can before pouring in batter, and she’s just silently relieved that the pan has not been left so slick as to allow the pancake to slide as soon as it solidifies.

Not that using less oil saved the pancakes from still tasting awful, but Siuan hates to think how much worse they would have been deep-fried.

(three sentence microfic meme)

[cozcat]

3 sentence fic prompt: texture

(for clarity, I have been told this is a Siuaraine prompt, and also, we are back to canon for this one)

Moiraine is long since asleep, sprawled across her bed, skin cooling where it touches the air, fading back to its usual pallor save for the scattering of red marks that Siuan has left on her neck, her shoulders, her breasts.

She is always so tired when she is back in the Tower, especially the first night, but they do not let a moment escape them, and so, it leads to moments like this - Siuan not quite ready to fall asleep, watching Moiraine as her eyes flutter shut, her lips part, her breath evens into a gentle rhythm; she is quite content to lay by her side and carve the image into her mind as Moiraine fights for an extra second longer to stare into Siuan’s eyes.

Moiraine’s mouth twitches, and she rolls onto her back, the damnable lace still adorning her bed etched into her shoulder, and Siuan cannot help but reach out and run her fingers across the imprint etched into her love’s skin, tracing the texture of whorls and flowers where she had fallen so deeply asleep that she hadn’t even sought a more comfortable way to rest.

(three sentence microfic meme)

[cozcat]

for the three-sentence fic prompt: moiraine/siuan and trouble

I absolutely had grand plans to write this in a timely fashion :| alas. have more modern AU

It is three AM, they still aren’t home, and Moiraine is wondering when, exactly, they are going to concede defeat and go to bed, heads still spinning from the wine they’ve decided to spend seven hours so far drinking.

But the night is warm and the streets have just enough life to them that it feels as though they might find another burst of energy, and really, Moiraine will go anywhere if Siuan’s fingers are tangled in hers in the way they are now - light and tugging her along to somewhere that Alric has told them a dozen times now is definitely worth the visit late at night.

Home can wait; kissing Siuan in the street before they stumble into one of the few places still open is worth it, no matter how much trouble they’ll find themselves in in the morning, with the wine and the late night catching up with them.

(three sentence microfic meme)