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the Wolf, the Falcon and the Dragon	By : SAF Category: S through Z > Wheel of Time Series Views: 12800 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Wheel of Time series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Rand hadn't lied to Min about the work that needed done. Lord Bashere was distracted by the arrival of his new son-in-law, so it fell to Rand and Bael to solve the supply problems. By the time they were finished and the necessary orders had been signed and dispatched it had long since grown dark. Rand stratched his shoulders, bid the tall Aiel chief goodnight and wandered through the corridors with his usual Far Dareis Mai escort .
Arriving at his chambers he dismissed the maidens with a tired smile. Noting in passing that Bain and Chiad had drawn guard duty tonight, he let himself in and shut the door behind him.
Rand tossed his coat over a chair and sat down to drag his boots off. As he dropped the second onto the plush carpet he became aware of movement in the adjoining bedroom. Giving no sign that he had noticed he unbuckled his swordbelt and held the sheathed blade in his left hand, ready for a quick draw. He no longer felt tired but nevertheless, the Dragon stumped towards his bed with his head held low. Passing into the bedroom he assumed the Void, emotionless now, ready to kill whatever awaited. Distantly he wondered what manner of creature they had sent this time. Draghkar, more Shadowhounds, perhaps a Gholam? It didn't matter.
The sound of low breathing to his right, he altered course, ready for the Courtier Taps the Fan.
He stopped dead in his tracks when she unhooded the lamp. The dim firelight showed little beyond the white dress of the female form perched in the chair, but it caught her eyes. And they glowed with rage, and hate.
"Faile!" Rand gasped, surprised at his own reaction. He had thought himself beyond shock now. Yet... "I wasn't expecting you."
"And just who were you expecting, my Lord Dragon," the Falcon asked, disdain fair dripping from her voice. "My husband perhaps? Do you have an important meeting scheduled, you two?" Or perhaps it was pain he heard. Rand had never really known how to speak to her. He wondered if even Perrin did, and he was usually good at such things.
An awkward silence descended. Broken at last by a long sigh. Perrin confessed, he thought, reliable old Perrin. "No," Rand answered, quietly. "No meetings. Not today at least."
More silence. Faile's eyes were fixed on him. She didn't even blink. Between those big black eyes and her... notable, hooked nose she looked very much like her namesake. Rand let the silence hold this time; perhaps he owed her an explanation, an apology too, but that didn't mean he would act like a boy caught stealing pies. Even if he had been.
He must have smirked because Faile lunged up out of her seat and advanced on him like a loosed arrow. Her face was scrunched up and reddened with outrage, but even that couldn't make her look ugly. She jerked to a halt right under his nose and hissed, "Do you find this amusing, you upjumped pigboy!? I know what you did, I know what you are." She poked him in the chest, her sharp nails making light of the fabric of his shirt. "You, you let... and he..." her chin trembled, she looked suddenly young.
"Faile", Rand said softly, "It doesn't mean that he..."
The Falcon slapped him across the face. Hard.
The Dragon felt his temper beging to stir. It stirred far too easily these days. He forced it back down.
"I deserved that," he said mildly. "So Perrin told you about our... friendship, I take it."
"Is that what you call it?", she asked archly, her poise seemingly recovered. "I've heard some of my father's soldiers describe it as `making you his bitch`? What do the Aiel call it I wonder. I'll have to ask them."
"Don't bother", Rand said grimly. "They typically describe it as being first-brothers, though not all first-brothers are also lovers."
"How very enlightened of them," she snarled, "Well perhaps some of your other followers would be less pleased to hear of your inclinations! Would you like it if I told them what you've been up to with my husband?"
Rand tossed his sword onto a nearby table. Faile wasn't paying any heed to it anyway, she was either too brave or too upset to be afraid of the Dragon Reborn. The loud thump did make her jump a little, but she still drew breath to continue her rant. So he took her by the shoulders, picked her up, carried her back to the chair and plopped her down in it. She gaped at him.
"How dare you lay hands on my person," she began, but Rand cut her off.
"You started it."
"This is not some childish..."
"I know that!" he snapped. "Now hold your tongue and let me tell you how this is going to be. You, and I and Perrin are going to settle the personal problems between us personally. The Dragon Reborn, and Lord Aybara and Lady Bashere are going to be stout allies united against the terrible Shadow, with no-one the wiser to what happens behind closed doors." She glared up at him silently, but attentively. "Now, its not that I think too many of my people would give a damn that I like to take both men and women into my bed; after all I've been propheciesed to break the entire bloody world. If they were going to rebel over something, I think they'd rebel over that first. But I won't have you, or anyone, trying to sabotage the war effort. Its too important."
The Falcon seemed shaken by the very idea. "I wouldn't... How could you think... I'm Saldaean! My ancesters have been fighting the Shadow for thousands of years. I would never betray them." She raised her chin and did her best to glare at him down that nose, difficult to do while he was standing and she was sitting. Still she seemed a bit calmer. Glaring was better than slapping, in Rand's estimation.
The Dragon took a deep breath to calm himself, mildly surprised once again to find that he needed it. His heart had started racing at some point.
"I didn't belive you would," he said, quietly, "You're a Bashere after all, and Perrin's wife. He wouldn't have married you if he thought you capable of serving the Shadow. You're obviously and understandably upset. Still, lets not bring anyone into this that doesn't need to be brought."
He turned his back on her and walked across the room to fetch another chair, frowning down at someone was hardly a good way to have a discussion. When he turned back Faile raised her eyes from his waist to his face and said with surprising calm, "Its a shame you don't apply that philosophy to marriage as well."
Rand set the chair down before her and sat himself in it. "I owe you an apology, and give it. I'm sorry for hurting you."
Faile sniffed half-heartedly. "You didn't hurt me. You couldn't. But he could." She turned her face away, cheeks flushed. "And did," she choked.
Rand didn't know what to say. She was right, was the thing. They had betrayed her. More Perrin than Rand, he'd sworn no vows to her after all, but still... what they'd done was wrong. And yet he couldn't find it in himself to be truly sorry for it. He didn't regret his actions. It was like he'd told Perrin. With so many strange customs in the world, who was to say what was the right and honorable thing. Well, if he couldn't give her honest regret he could at least give her honesty.
"Don't be too hard on Perrin. This thing between us has been happening on and off since we were barely more than children. Perrin always seems to regret it afterwards, feels guilty I think, but nevertheless, every once in a blue moon the mood takes him and..." Rand smiled ruefully, resting his chin in his palm. "Its always seemed to me that he doesn't think of it as a proper relationship, not like the one you two have anyway."
Faile listened intently. She seemed surprised when she asked, "Do you love him?"
"Of course I do. Hes one of my oldest friends."
"Yes, but do you love him, like I do?"
Rand wondered what the distinction she sought to apply was. From what little he knew of Faile, jealousy seemed to be her most consistant emotion. Was that the love he lacked? "I don't begrudge either of you the happiness you've found together," he mused, as much to himself as Perrin's wife, "I'm not sure what can be taken from that. Maybe I don't love him as much as you." He tried to imagine being jealous of someone in Perrin's love life. How would he feel if he found out that Perrin was sleeping with, he floundered for a name, Min say. Rand was surprised at how much the thought hurt, covetous anger tightened his brows for a moment and left him bewildered. He shied away from the thought with a grimace.
He couldn't imagine what Faile took from that, but she nodded as she watched him, wrapped in a new composure. "Do you know what he told me when I confronted him?" Her eyes were half-lidded and her chin raised high as she spoke. "He said that he hated himself for what he'd done, that he would do anything to make it up to me, give me the stars themselves if he could. As though stars could balance out such a thing."
Rand nodded. "He doesn't like having to make quick decisions," he told her, "He'd rather you set him a penance, a job he could dedicate himself to."
Faile coloured, snapped "I know that! He is my husband after all, not some stranger."
Rand raised his hands in appeasment. "Just trying to help smooth things out between you. Its partially my fault, and I feel I should do something to fix it."
"Yes," she pronounced. "That is just what I told Perrin, as it happens." The Falcon rose from her parch. "Justice could come in only one form, I said." She glided towards him. "You... my Lord Dragon." And she sat in Rand's lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
Shock slackened Rand's jaw as Faile's full lips caressed his. He sat rigid in the chair, more troubled by his own bodies reaction than anything else. His manhood had stiffened even as she had walked towards him. She was Perrin's wife, he should never have reacted to her that way. It was just wrong. Even now his pulse skipped between her kisses. His body defied his mind. The thought struck him that this was what Perrin felt when he and Rand were together. Inescapable wrongness.
"You know," this is a little dissapointing, Faile tutted, annoyed at his lack of response, "From Perrin's description I was expecting something more impassioned." She smiled at him mockingly and took two handfuls of his hair in a rough grip, her eyes were inches from his, large and dark and angry once again.
"Faile", he croaked, "I can't do this. Not to Perrin."
"But you could do it to me?" she sang archly, "So to speak, at least."
"You and I were never friends," Rand said, weakly, "We barely know each other."
"Not yet," she smirked, standing.
The Falcon turned her back on him and raised her hands to the straps of her dress, in one smooth motion she slipped them free. The white material pooled around her hips, the muscles of her back were surprisingly well definded. Faile looked at Rand over her shoulder, her expression one of profound confidence. Suddenly her nose didn't seem too big at all. She looked so exotic that he almost forgot to breath.
"Do you know what he said when I told him I was going to fuck you to within an inch of your life, my Lord Dragon?," Faile asked lightly. "He said that was only fair." Rand could almost hear Perrin's voice as she spoke. He was almost certain that was a direct quote. "You have penance to attend to. Take off your clothes and follow me." So saying, she flicked her dress down over the curves of her hips and allowed it to fall to the plush carpets. She was wearing nothing underneath. Her buttocks looked surprisingly firm for a woman, evidence of a lifetime spent around horses. Faile swept towards the bed without looking back and Rand found himself on his feet, pulling at the laces of his shirt.
This is wrong, he thought between the heavy beats of his heart, but Perrin said... and she said... and she looks so... his shirt disposed of, he yanked down his breeches and shorts, hopping in his haste to be rid of them. Rand felt queerly embarrassed as he raised his eyes to find Faile sitting on the edge of his bed, legs crossed at the knee, arms stretched behind her to support her weight. His gaze latched onto her breasts, high and firm with small dark nipples, he wanted to suckle on them. I'm going to regret this in the morning, he thought. But even knowing that, he knew he wasn't going to stop.
The Falcon regarded his nudity from behind a mask of aloofness. Her eyes traveled from Rand's face down his hairless chest to his toned stomach, until they came to rest on his proud manhood. She couldn't disguise the sudden flush of her cheeks. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. She stretched out a trembling hand and ran one finger down the length of him. He gasped at her touch, his penis twitching involuntarily.
Bending, the Dragon placed his hand gently on either side of the Falcon's head, raising her face to meet his. He kissed her, tenderly at first, then with quickly building heat. He ran one hand through her straight, silky hair; the fingertips of his other trailed kisses down the side of her neck, seeking out one of those breasts. She moaned into his mouth as he found his prize, molded that deliciously soft flesh in his palm. Once more, Faile wrapped her arms around Rand's neck. She pulled him back onto the bed, her kisses deep and needful.
Rand could smell Faile's arousal, his own was pressed up against her hip and he wanted to take her right then and there. But instead he slid his own hips back off the side of the bed, lowered his face to her chest and took one dark nipple in his mouth. He ran his tongue over the smooth areole, delighted in Faile's gasp, grinned lacivously at her throaty moan when he bit her small, almost black, bud ever so lightly, rubbing her other nipple between thumb and forefinger. He kissed his way down her taught stomach, to the sleek black hairs of her womanhood, wet with her own heat. Without hesitation he buried his face in her pungent heat, and penetrated the Falcon with his tongue.
Faile took a long shuddering breath and clamped both hands to the back of Rand's head. Instinctively, she parted her knees and raised her feet, resting them on his broad back. He kissed her lower lips, ran his tongue along them, sought out and found her special bud. The Falcon took two, almost painful handfuls of the Dragon's hair as he pleasured her. She made small, mindless grinding motions with her hips, rubbing her juices against his face, moaning. Soon she was grunting. And then she clamped her thighs around his head and let out a long screech. Rand savoured the taste of her pleasure, rested his cheek against her thigh, now slumped wide on the bed.
After a time, an idea occured to him.
Combing his fingers through the rough hairs of her sex, Rand gathered Faile's juices and smiled daringly. He trailed his hand all the way down her crevice until he found her tight anus. He stroked the sensitive skin with two lubricated fingers, round and round, wondering how she would react. Faile's deep breathing subsided and she raised herself up on her elbows, regarding the Dragon between her thighs with seemed like fright. He smiled at her from behind her dark, sodden pubic hair and raised one eyebrow quisically.
Faile bit her lip, looking younger than Rand had ever seen her. She was younger in fact, though he couldn't recall being told her exact age. She actually gulped, it amused him to note. "Do you... have to?" she asked faintly. Then immediately frowned at her own timidness. "Its only fair," she muttered. "Maybe."
Rand stood up with a laugh, surprised at how light-hearted he suddenly felt. He sat on the bed beside his surprising new lover and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her juices from his face with the other, glittering forearm. "Why is it everyone in this Light-forsaken Age seems to think I'm as bad as the Dark One himself?" Smiling he kissed Faile on the cheek. "Don't answer, I already know. But really, I'm not that bad. For one thing I rarely sodomise pretty young ladies unless they really want me to." That surprised a laugh out of her. He ran a finger along her elegant cheekbone as they lay back on the bed, side by side. "Though you might surprise yourself. Some women hate it, just as some men do, but others can be driven quite wild by it."
"Still," he mused, "if you do decide to end that virginity, its not me who should be taking it." That raised the spectre of Perrin, or course. Rand wondered if she felt better or worse. He found his own needs and uncertainties buried beneath a curious effervecence. He was still hard, unsatisfied, yet thought that if Faile chose to leave now he would not begrudge her. He simply laid back on the bed and regarded her as she frowned at the wall, and the man who waited beyond it.
"He has good taste at least", she muttered after a time.
Ummm. Rand licked his lips. "I quite agree."
Faile snickered, "Stop that," she said, shaking her head ruefully, "You're supposed to be the Dragon Reborn. You almost remind me of that Cauthon boy you two were friendly with."
"There you speak from inexperience," Rand said, smiling. Her mood did seem better.
A comfortable silence passed.
"So", he drawled, eventually. "I'm given pause to wonder if the Lady Faile has forgiven me. Has my sentence been commuted or am I still to be, how did you put it? Fucked to within an inch of my life?"
She turned her face towards him, full lips parted, eyes hooded. Abruptly she recalled his straining erection still between them and blushed deeply. "I... I think..." Her eyes fell to his manhood, she reached out her hand gathered him to her even as she gathered her customery arch elegance around herself. "I think you've been a very bad boy, and still owe me a pound of flesh."
The Falcon threw one slim leg over the Dragon's hips, rested her hands on his shoulders and knelt above him. She reached between her own thighs and grasped the long , hard shaft of his penis, held it in place as she touched her lower lips to its head, slid the first inches into her, gasping at that most exquisite anticipation.
Rand made no effort to touch her. He simply laced his fingers behind his head and watched. Faile rocked her hips, teasing him with her sweet flesh, her breasts swaying slightly. She positioned herself for one deep thrust and looked him deep in the eye. Then she sat back, allowing Rand to slide into her. She threw back her head as she took him, stopped with a slight grimace before he was fully inside her. She leaned forward until her hair fell down around Rand's cheeks and then, finally, she started riding.
Faile fucked with short, abrupt thrusts of her hips. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders involuntarily. The muscles of her thighs stood out as she knelt above him, stomach clenching as she rode him relentless, breasts jerking to and fro.
"Do you like that", she asked throatily. "Perrin loves it when I ride him like this."
"Yes..." Rand whispered, entranced by the mad dance of her breasts above him.
At that pace it didn't take long for her to bring him close to satisfaction. "Faile," he groaned, "Faile, I'm nearly there. I'm going to cum in you... unless..." She decided fast. Lifting her hips away from Rand's penis she scooted backwards and quickly took hold of him with both hands, jerking insistently. Rand felt his whole body tense and gritted his teeth against the wonderful surge, eyes squeezed shut. At the last moment he felt something warm and wet close over the head to his cock, capturing his warm spurts. He was too lost in pleasure to wonder what.
Rand was dimly aware of Faile rising from the bed, heard the clink of a glass touching a decanter. After a time he opened his eyes. Lazily he watched as she pulled her dress up, hiding her body from his sated gaze. He should say something, he knew, but it was always difficult to talk afterwards. "That was wonderful," he ventured, always a good opening. Faile simply smiled and continued adjusting her clothes.
He sat up with a sigh and reached for his smallclothes, pulled them on.
Rand regarded Faile seriously, "Do you think you two will be alright?" he asked.
She paused and looked at him cooly, the uncomfortable afterwards had arrived. "We are even now. For what thats worth." She frowned at the door, obviously disinclined to linger. "As to the rest. Well. Its between Perrin and I; you're part is concluded."
"So it seems," he said neutrally. "I hope you will. Be alright, I mean."
Faile simply nodded. She seemed to want to say more, she seemed to want to leave the room immediately. "Well," she huffed, "sleep well my Lord Dra... Sleep well, Rand." And with that the Falcon swept out of the room. Almost immediately it seemed a simpler place for her abcence. Simpler, but also less interesting.
The Dragon snorted softly. It had been one crazy day. He drank a glass of water, cast open the windows of his bedroom, smothered the lamp and fell onto the bed, and into a deep, exhausted sleep.
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the Wolf, the Falcon and the Dragon