Lan's Cloak in the Night (Chapter after "Whitecloaks in the Night")

[Iris 0]

Lan's Cloak in the Night

Final Chapter: Rated M

 

Moiraine embraced Saidar as she and Lan rode through the night. Her senses heightened--she could feel Lan's warmth, hear his breathing and heart beat, smell the scent of his shirt, a scent that was distinctly Lan. Sweat dampened his shirt slightly, moistening her cheek, and the muscles of his chest felt strong and hard. She could feel the gentle pressure of his rough fingers in her hair. The heat of his arm against her bare back and shoulders seemed to soak into her skin. Lan had slowed the animal to a walk now, and its rhythm rocked Moiraine against Lan's body. She was very conscious of the position of her thigh, which rocked against Lan in-between his legs as she shared the saddle with him. She had never felt so attracted to him. Never wanted him so badly. She knew he could feel it through their bond, but focusing on this feeling promised an escape from painful thoughts.

 

They rode on through the night in silence, neither saying a word. Lan was also very conscious of Moiraine's body against his. He looked down at her smooth, white neck, her bare shoulder and arm, which seemed to glow in the moonlight. Her cheek felt warm through his shirt, and the heat of his arm pressed against her upper-back seemed to raise the temperature of his entire body. He was also very conscious of the sensation of her thigh rhythmically pressing against him between his legs. Very conscious. A fire was burning within him. He tried to seek thoughts that would distract him from these sensations, but he found none.

 

Lan lowered his head and soundlessly inhaled through his nose, smelling Moiraine's hair. It smelled like roses. He knew that it would, as he had smelled that scent on her before. He had seen her in the morning, taking her comb and a small vial from her belt pouch, which he came to learn contained rosewater. She would wet the teeth of the comb with the scent and then comb it through her dark curls. The scent remained particularly strong if she did while her hair was wet, which most likely she did after a bath at the inn that night. Between Moiraine's thigh and the scent in her hair, Lan felt lust burning him inside. This was compounded by the fact that he could feel a sort of desirous longing coming from Moiraine, which threatened to overwhelm him. They rode on through the night in silence, neither saying a word.. He wondered why she would feel that right now, but he supposed it had something to do with what had just happened.

 

Lan continued on this train of thought. He supposed after being through an ordeal like that, a woman desired to do those same things, to be intimate with a man, in a loving way—a sort of emotional healing through sex. Not that she wanted to do that with him, but she probably just wanted it, or wished she could have it, if such a man existed for her. Being a man it was hard for him to understand this aspect of women completely, but he knew this phenomena happened with them. He had never been with any one woman long enough to be very familiar with the occurrence himself, but naturally heard other men talk of it. After some sort of traumatic ordeal or nasty fight with her man, a woman wanted to experience emotional relief and closeness by making love to him.

 

This led Lan to think of something else, something he had thought of before, but only briefly at random times: he was pretty sure Moiraine had never made love with a man before. This fact, if it was a fact, probably made this ordeal even more traumatic for her. Lan didn't like to think of any woman in a crude way, but if he thought about bluntly, Moiraine was a virgin, in the traditional sense. For one, it made sense on a logical level: she had left for the White Tower at the age of 16, where she was surrounded by only women. Then after leaving she immediately began her search for the Dragon Reborn, which resulted in their paths crossing shortly thereafter, followed by their bonding as Warder and Aes Sedai. No time for a lasting relationship with a man in that interval.

 

Lan was also pretty sure of this in another way, which had something to do with the way Moiraine carried herself. Granted she was Cairihenin, so she was prone to being modest when it came to the topic of sex, but it was more than that. He couldn't quite put his finger on it—it wasn't anything one thing, but the way she reacted to the subject, and to other men who had given her interested looks or comments, the expressions that crossed her face, the things that caused her to blush...

 

Thinking about the topic of Moiraine's sexuality was only increasing an arousal he was supposed to be dampening. He focused on a more mundane task, which was to find them a suitable campsite. Going back to the inn would be too dangerous, perchance the Whitecloaks searched it for possible killers of the three men. They would have to return briefly tomorrow, only to retrieve their things and then leave again.

[Iris 0]

“Any requests for a campsite tonight?” Lan asked.

 

“Preferably something with water,” Moiraine responded, not looking up. “A lake or a pond. I need to bathe.”

 

That made sense, from both a physical and psychological standpoint. “I will see what I can find,” he replied determinedly.

 

After another ten minutes or so of riding, Lan spotted the glassy surface of a small lake (or perhaps a large pond) through a thicket of oak. He turned Cat Dancer to the right, and wove through the trees, until the lake was just a few feet away. He pulled back on the reigns, stopping the animal. “How's this?” he asked.

 

“Perfect,” Moiraine said, lifting and turning her head to take in their surroundings. The trees provided privacy around the water, yet the night air was still warm. Stars twinkled in the sky, along with a sliver of moon, reflected on the water like a mirror.

 

Moiraine turned back to look at Lan, who slipped her binds from his neck. Still sitting side saddle between his legs, she channeled a flow of fire that singed through the ropes, smoke rising with a burning smell. The binds fell to the grassy forest floor, the rope fibers still smoldering. Moiraine's wrists wore angry red indentations, remnants that would not let her forget so quickly. She didn't rub them--only sat quietly, wrists resting on her knees, looking at them. Her face was expressionless, yet Lan suspected that if he looked into her eyes, he would find pained sadness within their depths.

 

Moiraine sighed and unconsciously brushed her hair back from her face, allowing her dark tresses to fall behind her shoulders. Her white neck had one long, dry trickle of blood from a dark red spot on her throat. Lan clenched his hands into fists. At least she wouldn't have to look at that tonight. Such a beautiful neck. Such an honorable woman. She didn't deserve that mark.

 

Lan slipped off the saddle and brought his hands to Moiraine's waist, allowing her to slide down, his hands sliding up the length of her sides to under her arms. Not a single drop of perspiration came from her. “Thank you, Lan, “she said, her voice all cool chimes.

 

They stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Where were they at right now, in terms of their relationship? Was that distance still there? How much had in closed? Or was it wider now?

[Iris 0]

“I'm going to go over to the lake to bathe,” she said in a cool tone, yet Lan saw a pink blush color her cheeks.

 

“I'll collect wood for the fire,” Lan replied, almost too quickly. She looked at him, her eyes like dark, unreadable pools. “But first I need to water Cat Dancer, if you don't mind.”

 

“Of course,” she replied, indicating she had no problem waiting. Lan took Cat Dancer by the reigns, and both of them walked over to the edge of the lake. They stood quietly, looking out at the silvery sheen on the dark water, as Cat Dancer took a long drink after the demanding pace he had set earlier that night. When the animal had finished, Lan turned to go, reigns in-hand.

 

Moiraine still looked out at the water as she spoke. “I will tell you when it's okay for you to turn around, or at least when you do not have to worry about where you look.” She held a serene expression, which was betrayed by the deepening color of her cheeks.

 

Lan made a sound of agreement.

 

“Also, one more thing.” She paused. “I need your hadori.”

 

The eyebrows on Lan's normally expressionless face lifted. “My hadori?” he repeated.

 

Moiraine now to turned to look at him. “Yes, your hadori,” she repeated patiently, extending her hand, waiting for him.

 

Moiraine had never made this request made of him before. “May I ask why you would like my hadori?”

 

“Do I need to provide a reason, my Gaidin?” she asked in a cool, matter-of-fact voice.

 

Lan said nothing, but only lowered his head to her. Surprised, and understanding the gesture, Moiraine's fingers came to either side of the leather band, slipping it from his blonde hair, bringing strands in front of his face. Lan lifted back to his normal height, only to see Moiraine's profile as she had turned back to the lake. There was a dark blush on her cheeks, and he was sure he saw the corners of her mouth fighting a smile.

 

“An honor to serve, Moiraine Sedai,” Lan said, almost smiling himself, then he turned to lead the animal away.

 

Lan led Cat Dancer back to the patch of oak and tethered the animal to a tree, then removed the saddle and saddle-blanket. True to his word, he didn't turn at all as he scouted for firewood. Moiraine's voice came a short while later.

 

“It's okay now, Lan.”

 

Lan turned to see her, more interested in knowing what became of his hadori then anything else. Moiraine sat in the water, which rose a bit above her mid-back. She sat with her back toward him, looking out at the lake. Her hair was piled on top of her head, which explained the service his hadori had been put to. Dark curls hung about her head like a crown. Little hairs curled at her hairline at the base of her neck. Her back was white and smooth, her shoulder blades pronounced due to the posture in which she sat. It looked as it her knees were up, her arms crossed and resting on her knees. She sat their quietly, not moving, looking out at the lake.

 

Lan inhaled deeply at what he saw, then put the firewood down and turned so that he didn't face her, yet his back wasn't to her either. He could see her only from his side-vision. He waited patiently for her, not requesting her to light the dark logs. He did not want to disturb her. After a few minutes Moiraine's head turned to look over her shoulder and she raised her hand, lighting the dark pile of wood. Then she moved back to look at the lake, the rest of her body never moving.

[Iris 0]

Naturally, Lan felt Moiraine's emotions, and he felt almost guilty, not wanting to invade her privacy. He saw her move slightly, and from what he could see she had brought her hands up and was resting her forehead in them.

 

He felt a pulsing stream of emotion flowing through her: pain, sadness, repulsion, anger, humiliation. He could feel tension stiffening her body in resistance to what she felt. He recognized the fight within her—he had felt it from her before. She would not let the feelings cross the threshold, she would hold them back. Internalizing. Overcoming. She was a strong woman.

 

After what seemed like a long time, she removed Lan's hadori, her dark curls spilling down her shoulders and back, hiding her skin from view. She slid down into the water, submerging her body and head. After a moment she came up, her profile visible to Lan, wiping the water from her face with her hands. He didn't realize he had turned his head now to see her. She would call to him if he needed to turn his back again.

 

Her hair darkened even more from the water, curls sleek and reflecting the glow of the stars and moon. With one finger she removed a long curl that hung over her face, onto her lips. Using her fingertips, she brushed her hair behind her ears, exposing her pale neck and shoulder. Her wet skin caught the glow of the stellar bodies above.

 

She turned to face Lan to tell him she was going to come out, and found him looking at her. Seeing this she looked away quickly but still spoke. “Lan, would you...”

 

Realizing he may have embarrassed her, Lan cut into her sentence, “Yes of course,” and walked to the edge of the patch of oak and stood with his back toward her, holding his body much in the same way a soldier would.

 

He heard the swirl of the water as she stood up in the lake. Moiraine lifted the cloak and wrapped it around her entire body, except her neck and head. Then as she walked back she channeled, using Saidar to dry herself and the damp cloak.

 

Lan heard her sit down, but he waited for her voice before he moved. “You can turn back, Lan.” Lan sat down by the fire soundlessly.

 

“Oh,” Moiraine said after a few minutes, as if she just remembered something. “Hold on.” She got up and walked over to Lan, standing directly behind him. “Don't look.”

 

Lan felt the cloak open, which made his heart race, a sensation of arousal moving through him like a sudden torrent. She was naked just behind him. He could just feel the warmth emanating from her body. Then he felt two hands sliding the hadori back over his head. Moiraine kept her hands on his head a few moments longer, after which Lan felt a renewed sense of energy. The movement of the fabric came again, indicating that she had drawn the cloak back over herself. “You may look” she said, going back to her seat. Lan could smell the scent of roses from the leather band, a scent that promised to torture him all night.

 

“You didn't have do that. I'm fine,” Lan said.

 

Moiraine waved her hand under the cloak, “It's nothing.”

[Iris 0]

They both sat in silence, looking into the crackling flames, which gave an occasional pop that startled neither of them. They had sat together like this so many times, even the unpredictable was predictable.

 

Lan watched Moiraine from the corner of his eye. Her face was serene, but her eyes looked deep and lost in thought. The red mark was still visible on her white neck, although not very noticeable now that the streak of blood had been washed away.

 

Lan looked down as his hands, balling them info fists. “Moiraine,” he said in a voice that caused Moiraine to lift her face away from the fire to look at him. Lan still looked at his hands. “I'm sorry I failed you tonight.” He looked up, his light eyes angry as he recalled what had happened. Moiraine's eyes were dark, deep pools. Her eyes waited.

 

He continued. “What happened to you tonight should have never happened.”

 

“The wheel weaves, Lan.”

 

“No Moiraine, I won't simply relegate this to a cathecism.” Lan looked back into the fire. “Human action has repercussion, as mine did tonight. I felt you startle at the inn, and I thought to come to you, but I didn't. It wasn't simply a lapse of judgment on my part--it was neglect. I neglected our bond. I neglected you. And now this happened to you, because of my neglect. I owe you an apology Moiraine. Please forgive me, so that I can at least try to forgive myself.”

 

Moiraine was still looking at him, her eyes dark and deep. Lan looked up at her. Her expression, even her bond, felt almost unreadable. After another minute she looked away, out toward the silvery lake. A few minutes of silence passed.

 

“What are you thinking, Moiraine?”

 

Moiraine was silent a moment longer. Then she spoke, her voice calm, yet somehow hesitant. “I was thinking that tonight you saved a part of me...a part of me I can only give once.” She paused, her cheeks flushed. “I hardly consider that a failure, Lan.” She continued looking out at the lake.

 

Suddenly she felt Lan right in front of her and she turned to see him kneeling down on one knee. “There's something else I need to tell you, Moiraine.”

 

Moiraine's body rippled with nervousness. “What, Lan?” she whispered. He was so close, his voice so soft, his words heavy with anticipated impact.

 

He looked into her dark eyes, such beautiful eyes. Her curls of brown hair framing her porcelain face, glowing in the firelight. He felt her nervousness, her quickened heart rate. Lan held her gaze and spoke. “Everything I said to you that day in the woods, when I had the fever, was true. I love you, Moiraine Damodred.”

 

That phrase took a minute to settle into both of them. Lan knew he was going to say it, but to hear himself say it aloud to Moiraine was something else, yet he didn't regret it in the least. Moiraine continued looking at Lan, and something about her eyes spoke of sudden vulnerability, a long put-up guard being let down. Her eyes sparkled with wetness in the firelight.

 

“Please say something, Moiraine,” Lan whispered.

 

Moiraine returned the whisper. “I love you too, al'Lan Mandragoran.” A solitary tear fell down her soft cheek. Lan lifted his hand to her face, and with his rough fingertip gently brushed the tear away.

 

Moiraine's mouth smiled lightly, as she lifted her hand out from the cloak, touching Lan's battle-worn cheek. The cloak. Moiraine froze, her warm expression changing suddenly to one of horrified surprise. She had forgotten she wore only the cloak, which had completely fallen away from the right side of her body, exposing her pale breast, the soft curve of her waist and hip, her slender leg.

 

She only stared at Lan, the moment of realization sinking in, her body rigid. Then she quickly withdrew her hand to reach for the cloak, but Lan caught her by the wrist just as her hand left his face.

 

“Leave it back.” He rose up higher, his face just above hers, moving closer. “I promise I won't look. Not yet.” By now his lips were just a breath away from hers. Moiraine's lips parted, her dark eyes heavily lidded, and Lan pressed his mouth onto hers. The first touch of his lips was soft, and then he let his lips move away again just slightly. Then their lips met again, Moiraine bringing hers to his just as much as he brought his to hers.

 

The kiss deepened, passion and arousal rushing through both of them—a raging flow--sharing with one another through the bond. Moiraine brought her arms up around Lan's neck, her slender fingers raking through his hair aggressively. Fires of passion burned through the bond, almost overwhelming, especially for Moiraine—her small body could barely withstand what crashed into her from Lan's. Lan's lips moved down her neck, his breath hot. She drew his face into her chest. His strong, rough hands moved to her smooth, bare back, the cloak having already slipped away where it blended, forgotten, somewhere in the night.

[Iris 0]

Sorry, this one had a few typos that needed cleaning up!

[Vertex 23]

That's the end? Just before the actual...well, I guess it is more tasteful this way. But still, what a shame....

 

I liked your story lots. Perhaps it could have been made a bit shorter. You repeat yourself a little when talking about how white her skin is and their inability to communicate their feelings.

 

Their romance was all classic and beautiful. With the exception of Lan's kinky desire to keep her tied up for as long as possible. The whole virgin bit fits with the classicness but felt bits tiresome. That and all the talk of honor. But I guess that's what Lan and WoT is like.

 

It'd be great fun if Moiraine had been all "Ohnoes! They are gonna riun it all!" When she was about to get raped. "I've been saving myself for months...weeks...days, at least, to make my 1000th time special and now this is how I'll end up spending it. Hmmm, maybe I can say this is just my 999th time if I don't count that time Siuan fell asleep."

 

Me got carried away. Anyways, great work and you should definitely keep writing. Maybe you should do original fiction instead? It is a lot more rewarding than fanfiction.

[Iris 0]

thanks for your fb vertex! yes i do supposed i blather a bit about moiraine's hair and skin a lot as trying to build up lan's attractedness to her.

 

i was actually thinking about including the "scene" between her and Lan but i couldn't figure out how to do a poll on here to ask what everyone else thought.

 

to be honest i never write any fiction (fan or original) but i just really loved Mo's character and thought there could be so many gaps to fill. it's a sort of new-found unexpected hobby/pleasure.