Tellings of the Wheel 01

For obvious reasons, I've recently regained my old interest in the Wheel of Time series, and a sudden compulsion (no pun intended) has prompted me to produce some alternatives to a few scenes that always stuck with me.

Fair warning, a lot of you are going to absolutely hate what you're about to read, which, judging from comments on my other stories, you'll have no problem letting everyone know about.

For those who fall into that category, I'm happy to give you an outlet for all the pent up anger life has forced you to endure. For everyone else, I hope you take it for the superficial whim that it's meant to be, and find some enjoyment.

She was no Egwene, but for reasons that Rand just couldn't quite let himself acknowledge, that was maybe not such a bad thing. Yes, Else Grinwell was pretty... but not as pretty as Egwene. Yes, Else was close to him in age, having seen eighteen summers easily... but Egwene was close to him in many more ways than that. There was a world of difference between the two women, and Rand's brain just didn't seem to be able to stop the steady cascade of comparisons, even while he was playing the flute for the Grinwell family to repay them for their kindness in giving them a place to stay for the night.

Egwene really is better looking.

Sure. And a kitten is softer than a puppy, if you wanted to be nitpicky. Else was plenty fetching enough. With her big brown eyes and dark, silky hair done in two playful braids, the farm girl honestly had a more... approachable kind of prettiness.

Egwene is thinner.

Not that Else was fat. In fact, as far as he could tell, the farm girl's plumpness was concentrated in only a few key areas. He swallowed, wetting his lips beyond what was needed to play his instrument.

Light, if Else had to wear Egwene's dresses, she'd split the seams at the bodice in ten minutes flat.

That wasn't just a guess on his part, either. Nearly the entire time he and Mat had been performing for the Grinwell clan, Else had be putting on her own show. Situating herself behind the view of either of her parents, the girl had gradually, teasingly begun a campaign of tugs at various parts of her homespun garb. First, she slowly hiked up the hem of her skirt, inch-by-inch revealing a wool-stocking-sheathed leg, until, inevitably, she reached the top of said stocking where it was cinched around a firm thigh... then kept right on going. It was all Rand could do to keep the flute from making a sound like a strangled cat when he spied the widening expanse of pale, smooth skin. When the young woman had to make the effort bunch up the material of her dress in one hand to expose practically the entirety of one perfect, fleshy cheek, Rand knew for certain that it was only the beginning for her.

Amused by his discomfort, but emboldened by his obvious inability to look away, Else had kept going, though this time she waited until Mat began juggling. Her big brown eyes said that she needed Rand's full attention now. Well, she got it, and then some.

Else did seem to hurry the process a bit this time, which Rand couldn't honestly say he had a problem with. She seemed inexperienced at this, even despite her confidence, and he guessed--hoped?--that she was as excited by all of it as he was. In any event, his eyes were riveted to the continuing display, even as the more prudent part of him prayed that Else's parents' own were at least as captured by Mat's.

Else, brazenly, gloriously, began rubbing her breast with one hand, a thumb encircling her nipple while the other fingers made the wool-encased flesh bob up and down, massaging the supple globe slowly and deliberately. Her lush lips parted slightly as her breath quickened, and she took the other hand up so she could put one finger between them, sucking lightly while maintaining perfect, steady contact with Rand's blue-eyed stare.

Burn me, who taught her this?

After long minutes, she finally relented for a heartbeat while she took stock of what her mother and father were doing. She must have been sufficiently emboldened, or at least insufficiently afraid, because that was when, with a wink and a smile at Rand, she finished the act.

Undoing the laces at her neck with amazing deftness, Else wasted no time. A pull, a tug, a shift of the shoulders... and there it was. The image of that round, soft, yet high and firm mound of mouthwatering pink flesh would be forever burned into Rand's mind.

Egwene, never in a million ages...

Else still wasn't done. In a move that Egwene couldn't have pulled off even if she had been given a complete personality replacement, the farm girl squeezed her exposed breast until the skin was bulging between her fingers, which left what was nearly the same amount more still outside her palm; it was that big. Then, with a flush of red finally suffusing her cheeks, the girl got a determined look in her eye, and proceeded to lift that wonderful symbol of her womanhood up while leaning her head down... and popped her own nipple right into her mouth, gave a quick suck, then shot out her tongue to lap around it once, just to pull it back in like a flash.

That was it. That was apparently as brave as she could be and, with a quick glance around, stuffed herself back into her dress and made herself presentable again; the dutiful daughter enjoying a warm moment with her family and a pair of entertaining strangers. Rand was left feeling like he was two men; one nearly sweating like a pig, wondering what had just happened, and the other seemingly wrapped in the void, dispassionately making evaluations on what possibilities lied in the future. He found himself humming tunelessly and rubbing one of his ears with a thumb while watching the farm girl intently.

It was the sudden clapping that brought him back to reality. Master Grinwell and the children were laughing and praising Mat's performance, while Mistress Grinwell offered up nothing more than a tight smile, then slowly turned to look behind her at her daughter. At seeing nothing amiss, she eased, but that calculating look never really went away.

"I... we need a break. Sorry folks." Rand managed to get the words out through a tight throat while surreptitiously poking Mat in the ribs, signaling that they needed to talk. His friend grunted, then nodded once, curtly. Master Grinwell protested that they weren't obliged in any way, shape, or form, but didn't hide his hope that there would be more. Mistress Grinwell kept her peace, but never stopped watching the pair of young men with intent eyes. Rand had a thought then, that mother and daughter Grinwell resembled each other in most respects, except those eyes. Smoky and inviting in the younger became pointed and evaluating in the older. It was too bad, the effect put him off from appreciating the mature good looks in Master Grinwell's obviously much-younger wife.

"I have to say, that was actually fun." As they sat together on some stools in the corner, Mat had that old, crooked grin on his face again; the one Rand hadn't seen since Shadar Logoth. Apparently, the Grinwell clan's forthright goodness eased his increasingly dour turn. He was still taking every opportunity to grab that blasted dagger at his belt, though. Still paranoid, then. "I like having an appreciative audience. Not like those bloody sailors that were just waiting to laugh at us..."

"Too appreciative." Rand jerked a thumb to the other side of the room, at a lounging Else idly playing with one braid and watching them both. "We're gonna get the hounds set on us..."

Mat laughed. It was... dark. "

Her?

" He glanced over his shoulder, but not straight at the girl. "I wasn't really looking at her. Her ma was in the way." His smile grew wicked then. "But sure thing, Rand. All the women are after

you

." He waved his hands sarcastically.

Rand punched his friend in the shoulder. "I'm serious. Something is going to happen if--"

"It is getting late, I think." Mistress Grinwell's sudden announcement had the air of a proclamation. "And the barn is no place for such fine young men." A small, knowing smile twerked her lips. "They can sleep in Else's room, and she'll sleep in mine." That last bit was said very slowly and deliberately so that there was no misunderstanding. She looked at her husband then. "Sorry, my love, but--"

"It's the cot for me." Master Grinwell shrugged. "Not the first time. Better for my back anyway." He laughed jovially. "Besides, it's the least we can do. Haven't had a good time like that in years."

Rand was... relieved. Probably. Mostly. He should have been, at least. With Else in her mother's care, there was no chance for inappropriateness. That was.... That was good. It was. Either way, it was done, and it was past time for them all to batten down for the night. Everyone made their pleasantries and split up to their respective sleeping assignments, all crises averted.

Bed, sleep, and a good start in the morning. Not too bad.

The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills.

__________

When Rand woke, it was a blessing. Ba'alzamon just pointing at him and laughing was new, but still fully as disturbing as any of those other dreams. Knowing he'd never be able to get back to sleep that night, Rand got up, deciding to take a walk to ease his nerves. He truly didn't know where he would go... truly... and if he didn't even bother to glance over to where Mat was sleeping... well, why disturb his friend?

The farmhouse wasn't cavernous, but with such a big family, the Grinwells had to have more than just a couple of rooms, and it made for a bit of a puzzle when he scanned down the hall that contained the bedrooms. After a few seconds though, a kind of creaking sound coming from one place in particular helped him make the decision, and he crept silently towards the one with the cracked door.

Just... checking. Making sure everyone's safe. The world's a dangerous place right now...

Rand didn't know what he expected to feel when he silently opened the door, but this sense of heaviness, almost a miasma of dread, was not it. That was nothing, though, compared to the disconnect between what he expected to

see

, and what was displayed before him under the light of the one dim lamp in the corner of the room.

That explains the creaking...

The thought bubbled up from nowhere as he watched the bed in Mistress Grinwell's room jerk back and forth, a slave to the motions of its owner as she rocked her own glistening, unclad body to and fro in a show of frantic vim. The matron of the Grinwell brood was feverishly, needily swaying her hips on the bed, her head thrown back so her long, wavy hair cascaded down her bare back, her arms fully outstretched so her hands could grip the headboard with white knuckles. Rand could only stare, open-mouthed, as the woman's full, exquisite breasts bounced and bobbed freely... until Mat's hands finally reached up to clasp the pair with a nearly palpable glee.

"Light... how... how can this be..." Mistress Grinwell finally looked down at her young lover through strands of sweat-matted hair sticking to her face, the stranger who was doing such things to her in her husband's place, and grasped his hands in hers, actually assisting in their greedy claim to one of the most forbidden things she possessed. "... be so... sooo..." Her eyes widened suddenly. "Unh, unh, unh, uhn..." She began a series of grunts, and the pace of her rutting increased.

"Give in... Feel it..." Mat hissed the words at her and raised his hips, lifting her body easily, all while clamping down hard on the woman's flesh. "You've worked hard all your life." He began bouncing her faster on top of him. "You're such a good woman. You deserve this. Just... let go."

Mistress Grinwell's whole body stiffened and she threw her head back again. A throaty moan managed to escape her mouth before she bit her lip to keep it contained, but she couldn't stop the deep quakes that racked her body and did such amazing things to her lush form.

"Light... Light... so good, soo gooood..." The mutterings continued right until she collapsed down on Mat and began plastering her face to his, running her fingers through his hair and devouring his mouth with hers.

Dangerous.

Another discordant thought hit Rand as he watched the woman roll off of Mat to the side of the bed, and spied his friend's seed leaking freely from her womanhood.

She's still young enough to have more.

Neither seemed to care a whit, though. They were too occupied in enjoying the afterglow of their coupling; running their hands all over each other's bodies without care. Well, Mat only used one of his, the other had almost absently found its way to that bloody dagger, having pulled it from under his pillow to thumb at the huge ruby on the hilt. The thing almost looked like it was glowing with something besides reflected lamplight. It was eerie, but a small, unimportant part of the entire picture.

An incomplete picture. Judging by Mat's still turgid member, and the wanton mother's eager exploration of it, the pair wasn't done by a longshot. Rand licked his lips, not sure what he was going to do. What he wanted to do. That was when the whole affair took a sharp turn.

"Me now.

Please.

" A small, dainty hand snaked up from the other side of Mat where its owner had been blocked from view by his larger frame. It didn't hesitate in joining Mistress Grinwell's own on Mat's manhood, and the pair began vying with each other, stroke-for-stroke, as Mat lied back on the mattress with a grin and a groan.

"No. No, not... not you. You can't." The woman didn't stop her arm from jerking up and down, but she did prop herself up on an elbow to look past the object of her lust. "I shouldn't even have let you stay."

More than just stay, by the looks of it. Rand found himself unthinkingly sidling into the bedroom to hide behind a rack of dresses situated in just the right spot to give him a complete view. The move, though, was absolutely contradictory to the bitterness in him in that moment.

She was making eyes at

me

, burn him!

On the bed, opposite her mother, Else Grinwell was nearly as naked, sporting only her woolen stockings still. There was no way that she had gotten so disrobed without her mother knowing it. By the Dark One, the girl stayed in the same bed, just inches away, while the woman had eagerly broken her wedding vows! Any remaining scruples on Mistress Grinwell's part were laughable at this point, and everyone knew it.

Else did, definitely, and she had no problem ignoring the feeble protest from her parent. In fact, as a response, the young woman promptly leaned over and popped Mat's pulsing rod into her mouth, wasting no time in worshipping the throbbing piece of meat with a kind of joy, her throat visibly working around the welcome intruder.

Else's mother pulled her hand out of her daughter's way, reflexively covering her shocked, gasping mouth. Still, the woman didn't raise a further protest, and, unwilling to look away, instead slowly began lowering her head down until it rested on Mat's shoulder, keeping her eyes open fully to take in the image before her while cleaving her moist body to his side. Unconsciously, her fingers crept upward as her breath quickened, and soon her brows furrowed as she tugged at one pebbled nipple, then began humping her pelvis against his leg with renewed need. As her daughter continued, oblivious to her mother, Mistress Grinwell, eyes now heavily lidded, began planting small kisses on Mat's face and neck, her lust overwhelming her once more.

"Give her to me." Mat pulled the woman's head back, cupping her cheek as he locked gazes with her. "Give me your daughter, and I'll show you things you never imagined, good wife." The mother Grinwell bit her lip, closed her eyes, and nodded, once.

With a growl, Mat lifted Else's head up with both hands, his angry red member exiting her sucking mouth with an audible

pop

. With a mix of fear and excitement, Else stared at him, maybe getting a premonition of what was really about to happen to her, then squeaked as he forcefully pushed her down onto her stomach. He quickly swung his legs over her rump, even as he lifted the succulent mound upward, giving those perfect, taut, bulbous cheeks an almost playful squeeze, then a rough smack which left a clear image of a red hand behind. Mat seemed to really like that.

Rand, head continually reeling from the rolling assault of shocks, still managed to note how oddly exciting it was to see the sides of Else's oversized breasts bulging outward when her body was pressed down by Mat's palm between her shoulder blades. The girl began making some kind of noise that may have been her asking a question, but any coherency was forced out of her, along with her breath, when Mat fed himself into her from behind, hilting himself fully in one powerful thrust.

Else groaned long and loud, a contrast to her mother who had somehow managed to be concerned about the noises they were making during her own surrender to Mat. The girl had either no care, or no ability. Probably the latter, as the sound was very definitely more than just surprised lust. There was an unmistakable thread of pain there too, which told Rand that, for all her boldness, this was very likely Else's first time with a man.

"Shh, shh, love." Mistress Grinwell, maneuvering around her daughter, positioned herself on the bed with her back against the headboard and her legs framing the other woman so that she could cup her offspring's cheeks in both hands directly in front of her. The move was not easily done, seeing as how Else's entire body was rocking forward and backward from Mat's forceful thrusts, but the woman wanted... needed to comfort the girl. "It's all right, precious. I promise, it gets better..."

"Momma... ohhhh... it's... hnng!" Else, with trembling fingers, reached up and took her mother's hand in hers, squeezing. "I can't..."

"You can. You can. He... we have to..." Mistress Grinwell didn't seem to know what she was saying, but she didn't stop Mat. In fact, she began stroking her daughter's shoulder, trying to ease the pain. It may have worked, surprisingly, or maybe nature just took its course, but it wasn't long before the woman's promise was fulfilled, and Else's cries very distinctly shifted to nothing but satisfaction.

The girl was soon up on her knees, her supple spine flush against Mat's chest, and she threw her arms back to grip his head while turning her own to pull him in for a long, loving kiss. The pair swayed together that way for a good while, feasting on each other. The picture of her open, exposed curves, was a vision from the Creator himself. Eventually, tragically, Else reached her boiling point, and the pure rapture that wracked her young, ripe frame brought her down again, her forehead pressed to the mattress in front of her misty-eyed mother.

Mat though... Mat wasn't done.

"That was good. Very good." His cockeyed grin was overflowing with mischief, just as the deflowered young woman beneath him was overflowing with his essence. "But it's not enough. You both need something... new. Something to remember me by for the rest of your days."

It seemed obvious to Rand what that would be--the chances were high that Master Grinwell would be needing to carve out some new cradles in the months to come--but that wasn't what Mat meant. What Mat meant, Rand couldn't have dreamed of himself if he lived to be four-hundred.

Ignoring Else's fatigued, inquisitive mumbling, Mat grabbed her by one of her braids and lifted her head. Not cruelly, not quite, but brooking no room for protest. His other arms scooped under the girl's waist at the same time, and, with a smooth maneuver, he hoisted her up off the bed and scooted her forward... right into her stupefied mother.