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A Soft Wetlander	By : SAF Category: S through Z > Wheel of Time Series Views: 11907 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: 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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Rhuarc held out his hand with a pleased smile and Rand took it promptly. The older man shuffled over to the fireside, never rising from his knees and the younger one crawled after him. When they drew to a halt Rand was awash in excitement and trepidation. Whatever Rhuarc asks of me today, I will do, he resolved.
They knelt before one another in the flickering light of the red-hot coals.
Will he ask me to suck him? Rand wondered. He didn’t particularly like doing that, but he would for Rhuarc. Masturbating would be the easiest. They sat on their heels, face to face. He is handsome, whatever the others say. The lines on his face make him seem distinguished rather than old. And most men half his age would be jealous of that physique.
Rhuarc was studying his young lover as intently as Rand was him. At last he gestured to the ground beside them, close to the fire. “Lay down on your back,” he said in his deep voice, “and spread your legs.”
Rand gulped, but only because his mouth was dry from the heat, or so he told himself. Heart hammering he scooted over beside Rhuarc and stretched out on the ground, his pale skin a stark contrast to the red earth. He’s going to fuck me, he realised, right here on the floor of this tent. He felt himself begin to stiffen again. Rhuarc raised an eyebrow. Rand blushed slightly as he spread his legs, then hesitated over whether to raise his knees as well. Smiling, the chief simply knelt between the youth’s outstretched legs and took a gentle grip of the back of either thigh. He pulled Rand’s legs further apart and pushed them up, exposing the hairless cleft of the youth’s anus. Rand had rarely felt so exposed, but he made no effort to resist.
Instead he laid there and watched Rhuarc as the older man knelt close, admired the rough skin, light hair, hard muscle and well-earned scars that fought for attention on the chief’s torso. His breaths were coming in long drags this close to the heat, but Rhuarc seemed unwinded despite the thick sheen of sweat that covered them both. His callused hands drifted down to Rand’s buttocks, gripped them and lifted the youth’s hips from the floor to rest in the chief’s lap. Rand spread his elbows the better to support his weight, which now rested mainly on his shoulders.
Rhuarc worked his clever fingers among the muscles of Rand’s bottom, prying the cheeks gently apart. He stroked his fingers around the tender edge of Car’a’carn’s hole, drawing a light gasp from his prone plaything. They were both so covered in sweat that lubrication hardly seemed necessary. He contented himself with sliding a finger of each hand inside a shivering Rand and pulling his cheeks steadily away from each other, loosening him a little. Then he seized his own penis and quickly inserted the head into the gap.
Rand felt the looming threat at his gateway but did not want to stop it. It promised a mingled pain and pleasure; and above all it promised intimacy. It shocked him sometimes how much he hungered for that - from anyone, man or woman. But who would be crazy enough to love the Kinslayer Reborn? Rhuarc had the door ajar, all he had to do was push his way inside. Inside my heart, or my ass, or both, I don’t know.
But Rhuarc did not push. Instead he looked deep into Rand’s eyes and said, ”We can stop now if you wish. There is no toh, Rand al’Thor, if that is what you are thinking.”
Rand shook his head. “I don’t want to stop. I want…” What did he want, apart from the obvious? “I want to know you Rhuarc, I want to know more of my people through you.” That felt right.
A murmured approval greeted that and abruptly Rand was aware of Bael sitting on the same side of the fire as Jheran. Obviously he had moved across, the better to see what was happening. The old enemies were watching the new lovers with unabashed curiosity. Bruan had drifted closer too. And Mangin was still touching himself as he stared at Rand.
Rhuarc smiled. “Good,” he said. Then he leant forward and buried himself inside Rand in one long, firm movement.
Rand gritted his teeth and whimpered just a little as he felt himself stretched and penetrated by his Aiel teacher. Soon he could feel Rhuarc’s hairy testicles pressed up against his smooth bottom. The chief let out a hissing sigh of satisfaction as his long-neglected member settled into its tight sheath. His eyes were squeezed shut.
Bael and Jheran had a hand on each other’s erect manhoods. They were masturbating casually. It seemed almost to be merely a friendly gesture, but each still refused to look at the other. Mangin had seized Cassin and was eagerly attempting to mount him, which the blonde didn’t seem like to mind. Rand was only dimly aware of the rest of the tent though. His eyes, and other things, were full of Rhuarc.
When the chief opened his eyes to find Rand staring at him, he grinned widely. “You really are strangely sweet…” he whispered, “Rand.” He reached down a hard hand and placed two fingers upon Rand’s face. The gestured was at once oddly formal and thrillingly tender. Then he took a firm grip on Rand’s raised hips, got up on his knees and began to ride the younger man at an even, assured pace.
Rand lay naked and gasping upon the floor of the sweat tent. He was surrounded by nude men whom he barely knew and completely misunderstood. His legs were dangling in the air in a most undignified manner. His ass was stretched wide by the intrusion of a man old enough to be his father. He was exposed and vulnerable. And yet, somehow, for reasons he could not begin to explain, he felt safe
Rhuarc fucked Rand until the youth could not contain his moans of pleasure. There was a… spot, something Rand had no name for, but Rhuarc was hitting it consistently and Rand’s pleasure surged each time he did. The young Car’a’carn’s manhood, only partially engorged, flapped in the steam after each firm thrust. Sweat was pouring off both men. Rand was so wet he might as well have been swimming in the Waterwood. His sculpted torso glistened in the flickering firelight, smooth and hairless. Rhuarc’s own battered body glistened no less so to Rand, as he watched it looming above him, the hard muscles of the chief’s stomach scrunching up and then relaxing again and again.
Soon, even Rhuarc’s stamina began to fade in that heat. Each time he gasped out a breath, a groan of pleasure escaped with it. His face was no longer the blank mask that Aiel habitually wore, instead a dozen emotions flitted across it. Compassion, worry, pride, acceptance, others. Lust coated them all however. His thrusts were becoming more and more primal, tenderness and concern for Rand’s comfort giving way to the desperate need for release.
Rand felt no worry. He still felt unaccountably safe with Rhuarc. Even as his chief stared at him so fiercely and the pounding upon his anus began to hurt, Rand still felt strangely at peace.
Bael and Jheran seemed to have finished their business at some point. Part of someone’s climax had even landed upon Rand’s bicep, but he didn’t care just then. Mangin was finishing. Fucking Cassin with the same wild abandon Rhuarc was now fucking Rand, eyes fixated almost disturbingly on the other couple.
Rhuarc’s gaze met Rand’s, his eyes held desperation as he took the younger man roughly. His thrusts slowed, his teeth gritted, his breath came in one long hiss.
Rand reached up both hands to clasp his chief’s where they held his hips in place. “I think I love you,” Rand said, so softy it could barely be heard. The wonder in his tone seemed to surprise his lover and much as it did Rand. But Rhuarc had only moments to gape before his pleasure took him. The chief squeezed his eyes shut, seemingly in pain and then he spurted hard within his young lover’s ass. He drew shuddering breaths as the waves of pleasure swept over him; his muscles clenched up, locking Rand and Rhuarc’s bodies together as the older man’s orgasm reached its peak. All too soon the tableau was broken and the chief, spent, fell back onto his heels, dragging the still held youth back towards him. Rhuarc bowed his head and sighed as Rand felt the spurting sensation within him slow to a trickle.
All the tension had leeched out of Rhuarc in the aftermath of their lovemaking. He seemed peaceful, his expression open. Not at all the reserved and deadly killer Rand had thought him when they first met back in Tear. Rand watched him with a slight smile, waiting for the familiar fog to clear.
When it did, Rhuarc’s eyes found Rand’s and he smiled down upon him fondly. “Well,” he breathed, still a little winded, “this was not how I imagined spending my evening. But it was certainly a welcome surprise.”
A chorus of agreement arose from the Aiel in the tent, both those who had watched the Car’a’carn being fucked by the Taardad chief, and those who had simply gone about their business. Those nearest were sprawled upon the ground, sated.
Rhuarc reached out to Rand, and when he had Rand’s hands in his, pulled him up off the ground. The Dragon ended up squatting in the chief’s lap. The older man’s mouth below his. They kissed, and Rand kneaded those lips firmly, his tongue darting out now and then, provoking. Rhuarc rumbled a soft laugh and said, “You learn quickly, Rand al’Thor.” To which Rand said only, “Yes chief, I do.” Then he wrapped his arms around his teacher and hugged him tightly.
After a long moment, the two men broke apart. Rand rose carefully to his feet, abandoning Rhuarc’s slackened penis. He tottered as he made his way towards the rocks at the edge of the tent and took a seat. The cool stone was soothing on Rand’s still-throbbing ass.
The six chiefs soon joined him there. The chorus of, “I see you Rand al’Thor,” brought a fit of involuntary laughter from Rand. “I’m not sure theres any part of me you haven’t seen,” he said with a nervous grin.
Irascible old Han snorted disdainfully. “Sex is only a small part of the Pattern of our lives. You youngsters often mistake it for more. We have seen that you enjoy the company of other men, but that is hardly unique. You have seen that we, the Aiel, do not regard such things as unnatural. There is much more we must learn of each other beyond those simple truths.”
Bruan and the others nodded agreement.
“You were strangely shy at first, Rand al’Thor,” Erim laughed, “Not so later. Was that a wetlander custom? From what I’ve heard it’s a wonder your people haven’t died from frustration, between this and the frigid women.”
Rand hesitated. “It’s not forbidden, Erim, not exactly. It’s just something that people rarely speak of. Everyone knows it happens though. And when it does its never… in places like this.”
He considered for a moment. “At least, not in any places that I know of.”
“What happens in the sweat tent, stays in the sweat tent,” intoned Rhuarc. Rand searched his eyes in silence. The Taardad’s mask was back in place, but echoes of what had passed between them remained. Rhuarc was concerned about something, conflicted, perhaps even afraid. Shockingly, the chief could not hold Rand’s gaze. He fixed his eyes upon the tent flaps instead. “Usually,” he grated. Rand’s heart felt curiously light.
“That has always been so,” said Jheran, stiffly.
Rand glanced at Bael, who sat impassive. After a moment of consideration, he spoke. “I am not the only one who has much to learn of his allies,” the Car’a’carn said to everyone and no-one, “it’s unlikely there will be much time or room for feuds in the years to come. We march against the Shadow, and by the time this war is done either Shayol Ghul and all its works will lie in ruins or the rest of the world will.” He shrugged helplessly. “I’d be grieved to think that anyone who survived such an undertaking would then turn upon those who stood at his side throughout it.”
The Goshien and Sharaad chiefs flinched ever so slightly.
Rand cast about for a change of subject, the barb set. “Are the women’s sweat tents anything like ours?”
The chiefs laughed uproariously, even Han. Rhuarc was quickest to quieten. “Their activities are as hidden from us, as ours are from them, Rand al’Thor,” he said with playful exasperation. “Many a brave young algai’d’siswai has attempted to learn the truth however. Most spent their remaining days with two braids in their hair.”
“Those were the lucky ones,” rumbled Bruan.
“Still,” mused Rhuarc, “Your Aviendha, and Egwene al’Vere, do spend quite a lot of time in the sweat tents. The Wise Ones like to hold meetings there. Who can imagine what takes place?”
The very idea left Rand speechless. Egwene would never do such a thing! He half expected her to rise up out of the fire and demand vengeance on Rhuarc for even suggesting it! Such matters were a serious business with Egwene. And “Your Aviendha?” What did that mean? Aviendha hated Rand. Still, it made for a very… interesting mental picture.
A laughing Bruan rose from the rocks. “This would seem a good time for me to be leaving, before someone gets over-excited.”
“Agreed,” said Erim. “I have seen enough excitement for one evening.” He nodded to Rand as he rose, “Sleep well and wake, Rand al’Thor.”
The rest of the chiefs rose with them and moved off towards the entrance area. Rhuarc did not. The two men sat in silence for a time. In the end, it was Rand who broke it.
“I really enjoyed what happened between us, Rhuarc,” he said hesitantly.
“Yes, Rand. You did,” the chief replied, deadpan. He waited a few heartbeats, then added, “And so did I.”
Rand leaned his elbows on his knees and smiled down at his own feet.
“Will it ever happen again?” he asked, flicking a glance up at the still-naked man beside him. Rhuarc glanced quickly away, but Rand could not help but notice how his manhood had begun to stir again. He thinks me charmingly coquettish, Rand realised, in a flash of insight. They are such a reserved people, for the most part, that seeing someone who looks like one of them behave with such openness as I do must be bizarre… and enticing. He widened his eyes a little and stared at Rhuarc imploringly. When the older man finally looked back at Rand, he gave a little start. Rand hid his pleasure, and amusement, as best he could.
“Outside of the sweat tent, things are different, Rand,” Rhuarc said reluctantly. “I would like to keep you, but my wives…” He choked off, unable to meet Rand’s eyes. At last he sighed deeply, “I can tell Amys. She might give consent since it is not another woman and you are… you. But she is unlikely to be pleased.”
Rand grinned happily. It was the best he could hope for. Amys wasn’t likely to object, in Rand’s estimation. The Wise Ones were eager to place anyone close to Rand who might ferret out the Car’a’carn’s secrets.
He sighed extravagantly and stood, gripping Rhuarc by the elbow and hauling him up too. Side by side, they walked towards the exit to the sweat tents, where the outside world awaited. “So,” Rand ventured, “What was that you said about “My Aviendha”? That girl hates my guts, why would you describe her like that?”
Rhuarc laughed deeply. “You still have much to learn, Rand al’Thor,” he said.
Yes, but now I have a teacher, thought Rand.
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A Soft Wetlander