Tellings of the Wheel 03

The brush resumed motion, and a smile briefly touched Moiraine's lips. "You sometimes forget, Perrin, that you are a good-looking young man. Some girls admire a pair of shoulders."

Once, in reaction to such a statement, Perrin may have done nothing more than grunt and shuffle his feet in embarrassment. Once, Perrin would have been absolutely flabbergasted at seeing Moiraine Damodred, high-and-mighty Aes Sedai, shepherd and caretaker of the wayward refugees of Emond's Field, standing with a wide open, pale blue robe, unconcerned that she was nearly completely exposed to his golden eyes. Unconcerned... coquettish... continuing... Perrin would have reacted very distinctly; once. Once, before he'd discovered that he was a Wolfbrother, and that the savage instincts common to all, but forced into quiescence by civility, were an unignorable howl in him. Once.

Now? Now Perrin felt as if he was on a mountain overlooking two paths he could choose to take; one that led down to a city, to a civilization... and the other, that wound into a dark forest, where something called to him with a howl...

Perrin stood still, his hackles rising as he took in the picture before him. The Aes Sedai woman was much older than him, true, but looked like a girl perhaps in her mid-twenties. What's more, she was undeniably beautiful, with her lustrous dark hair and large, knowing dark eyes. Her body on full display now revealed a heady combination of lithe petiteness, a fit frame, and a bosom that, while not oversized, looked more than generous in relation to her short stature.

In a rush, he was flooded with the weight of recent memories of butting heads with this woman who was now vulnerable and unprepared and trying desperately to regain control. Memories of her keeping secrets and expecting him to heel... of her fitting him for a leash. The weeks of frustration, of weariness at having to fight against her over and over, boiled up until, at this crossroad, he chose a path.

The young man's mouth split into a feral grin as he drank in the lines of this one, meeting her unspoken challenge for dominance, judging her fit for his needs, and he took two bold steps into her chosen den, closing the space between them.

"I ask you if that girl, Zarine, is a darkfriend, and your answer is to tell me how attractive you think I am while you present yourself to me?" Ignoring the indignant furrowing of her brow, Perrin kept stalking forward, closer and closer. Without any seeming awareness on her part, Moiraine actually took a hesitant step back, her nostrils flaring as she took increasingly deeper breaths, breathing the Wolfbrother's musk more fully into herself. When her eyes widened as a glimmering of understanding about what was happening to her began to dawn, his wide grin became more of a silent snarl, showing even more teeth. His voice grew rough. "Tell me why that is."

"I don't... I don't know what you... what you're think--" Moiraine's denial was ended by a choking gasp as Perrin, with a growl, abruptly closed the distance between them, trapping her against his muscular frame with his meaty blacksmith hands around her thin waist.

Moiriane didn't push. Didn't fight. She merely pressed her nose against his chest and filled her lungs once again. "You aren't afraid of me." She shuddered. "You know what I can do to you, and..."

"I'm not shadowspawn." Perrin squeezed her trim middle tighter. "And you know your life isn't in danger." He ran his fingers through her long, freshly-washed hair and took in her scent the same way she took in his. "The opposite. You're about to get what you always wanted."

"...yes." The word was so low, only his ears could catch it. It was enough though, and Perrin's hand went to her cleft as a sign of his claim. More than enough, judging from the dew on his palm and the haggared breath on his neck.

Why did I ever fight this? Noam was right, this is what it is to live!

Perrin was nearly lost to himself by that point, as his soon-to-be-bitch's scent swirled in his head.

She's never had a man. I'll be the first--

The fierce hammering at the room's door snapped both of them back to reality, and Moiraine lurched away from Perrin violently. "Lan! I didn't mask..." She looked at the blacksmith with moist eyes. "He felt

everything.

"

Perrin snarled at the door, but didn't move. If there was anyone who'd be able to take what was now his from him... "Here." He pointed next to himself while locking his yellow eyes on his quarry. "Now." Surprised that he was surprised, he still managed to keep his features stern when Moiraine jumped forward, adhering herself to his side.

"I'm trying to force him away, but my head can't make it work." She looked at him with accusation and need together. "You have to do something." The heat coming from her made his own head swim.

Hopper

,

help me.

What he did next was nothing but instinct, but that didn't matter; it worked. The world around the pair... shifted, falling away in a blur, replaced by a thick fog. Moiraine clung to him, and he put an arm around her protectively. "What did you do?" Her words and tone were scolding, but her scent told him that she was ready to accept the answer, whatever it was.

"You should know. It's the wolf dream." As if to punctuate his point, Hopper chose that moment to appear before them, the huge wolf watching them both. Perrin couldn't have said how he could tell, but he knew that his friend was eyeing the Aes Sedai, and himself, approvingly. Proudly.

"

Tel'aran'rhiod

." Moiraine breathed out the strange word, then craned her neck to peer up at him. "You take a woman to the most interesting places, young ma--"

"Quiet." Perrin growled, then moved his hand off the thin robe still clinging to her shoulder and clamped it firmly on her haunch. She yelped in the cutest little way and shoved her nose into the cleft between his arm and chest, docile once more. "We're not done."

While he felt her nod on his smoldering skin, felt her own heat radiating under his squeezing palm, it was the smell of her that practically made him pant. She was ready. She had accepted what was going to happen. What she was now. What

he

was to her.

So fast.

The thought was annoying, and he didn't like it, but he couldn't quite squash it.

It happened so fast. In seconds. Something... strange...

The groaning from Moiraine chased that little rabbit of a notion out of his head quite thoroughly, and Perrin focused back on her as she slowly slid down his side to her knees, looked up at him once, swallowed, then turned to the misty, unseen ground and bent over nearly double, pressing her face down and lifting her mouthwatering rear upward while she hitched up the robe, making sure it was completely out of the way.

Moiraine Damodred, star of the Blue Ajah, was presenting herself to a village blacksmith half her age because her animal instincts told her that this was the proper way of things. This was what nature demanded, and even Aes Sedai can't fight their natures. Her one, small protest, if it could be called that, came as barely more than a whisper. "Perrin... please be--"

Perrin had no desire to bring even the slightest ounce of pain to his mate, but she had to know her place, so he ignored her unfinished plea and proceeded to seal his claim by mounting her and hilting himself in her with one determined motion. If he wondered why he was suddenly naked, well, the wolf dream was not reality... it was where the spirit found form, and his spirit was nothing but raw, savage satisfaction in that moment. By the nearly boiling wetness he felt envelop him in that velvety channel, he knew it was the same for Moiraine. A true completion, a filling of what was missing in her heart, even as what was missing in her body was finally given to her. It was glorious. It was brutal. It shook the very dream around the two rutting animals.

"Hnng, hnng, hnng... Gaaaah! Unfff!" The yips and barks from the dainty thing that writhed before him made Perrin issue a snarl and lit his yellow eyes on fire. As he grabbed her by the hips and hammered the Aes Sedai heedlessly, something made him look over his shoulder, where he spied Hopper watching them both.

Only a start, Young Bull. Do it the correct way. Make her yours completely so that she will never mate with another. Show her what you both are. Assert your dominance.

Perrin knew what that meant. That the act should be in the manner of the wild. He bent over his bitch, his hulking size combined with her diminutive stature allowing him to easily stretch across the entirety of her frame, and slowly, deliberatively, repeated the move that had won her back in that inn and clamped his teeth around the nape of her flawless, swan-like neck. He stopped moving then and held her there, forcing her into paralysis, letting her instincts tell her what was happening, and giving her the chance to accept it or reject it one final time.

In that fateful moment, she made her choice.

"Ohhhhhhh..." The long, guttural moan signaled the bursting of the dam, and Perrin felt Moiraine's violent tremors through every inch of his own body. Within her, it seemed as if she would squeeze him to a pulp as her muscles worked feverishly, trying to milk him utterly dry, her body telling him what her desire was.

With a deep satisfaction, though supreme effort, Perrin withheld what she was begging for, flexing himself rhythmically inside her tremulous form...

mine now

... to drive her wild, and teasingly drew out his relinquishment of her neck, where his teeth had left imprints that were only the first of his marks on her.

"I'm going to give you what you want." The man expressed words that were spawned by the beast. "I'm going to give you my pups, and when you whelp my first litter, you'll present yourself to me for more. My mate. My she-wolf. My bitch."

"Yessssss..." The sibilant hiss expressed an entire world to him, an upending of both their sleepy existences until that point. "All of it. Everything. Put me where I was meant to be." She squeezed him harder than she ever had and looked back, her big brown eyes swimming as tears of longing streamed away. "Breed me."

The base grunts that issued simultaneously from each as he seeded her were no true representation of the raging wildfire that had been lit in them both, but neither were in control of their reactions by then. His hands latched onto his bitch's teats...

I can't wait for them to fill...

and his back hunched and he plugged her channel tight with his girth, making sure that not a drop could spill from her womb, ensuring as many strong offspring as possible.

Near, but also far, Hopper's howl of celebration matched Perrin's own, and Moiraine's climactic screech has something of the same in it as some part of her remembered what all humans had once been, back when the world was simpler. Better. The mating was completed, and his position was fixed. A new pack had begun, and long may they hunt.

__________

"I never thought that bruises could feel so wonderful." Moiraine gently, contentedly poked and prodded the yellowing skin of her breasts, the ten imprints of Perrin's fingers, with one hand while the other fingered the divots his teeth had left at the back of her neck. "I don't even have words to describe what this feels like."

"Then don't try." Perrin, still clad in nothing but skin and pelt, sat cross-legged, leaning back on his hands and leering openly at his bitch. She was still toting that wispy blue robe; he'd told her to keep it on, though loose and open. For some reason, perhaps as a balance to the animal in him, he enjoyed the sight of his mate in the accoutrements of civilization. The contrast of its elegance and her disheveled, well-ravished flesh was exciting to him. "Show me."

Moiraine saw that excitement and gasped. "Scant minutes. That's all it's been." She wet her lips nervously when he frowned at her. "Perrin... sire..." She swallowed, her tone dropping to a rasp. "I ask... let me have some time..." When he didn't answer, she crawled over to him on her hands and knees, lowering her face towards his lap. "Husband. Please."

"How can I say no to my chosen mate?" Perrin, to her visible surprise, chuckled. "You are not a bird to fly free, not anymore, but I do care for you. I will give you what you need."

At that, she smiled, relieved and thankful. "It is only for a bit, love. Just a brief moment to revel in... you. To adjust." As she touched her stomach with a brief, loving touch, she got a strange look in her eyes. "It's odd you say that, though. When I was young, my father called me much the same. Bird. I flirted with training birds of prey on our estate, as an austringer." She smiled with a fond memory. "He called me Formel. His pretty hawk."

Perrin liked seeing her smile, and stroked her long, smooth hair affectionately. "You called me sire, so I would say it's fitting to take up that tradition. My Formel." He grinned. "Reminds me of that girl that's following us like a puppy. Says she's a... a falcon..."

He was only dimly aware of Moiraine's lips touching the tip of his twitching manhood as it jutted up from between his crossed thighs.

Hawk and Falcon. Min's viewing.

Perrin didn't know what that meant. The image, the prophecy, of two raptors perched on his shoulders. The girl from Baerlon claimed that she didn't either, but she knew they were both female.

I wish I could ask her. She has to know more than what she said, I could tell she was keeping a secret the last time I saw her.

As if summoned, the mists of the wolf dream coalesced in front of the breeding pair, and while Moiraine's tongue was travelling his length, and her little hand was lovingly cupping and massaging his virility, an image appeared before the Wolfbrother, of Min Farshaw at a small inn in some nameless village. In the way of dreams, he knew, without being told, that he was seeing events as they were happening. Min was on her way to Tar Valon after having parted ways with Perrin and the rest, and must have stopped for the night.

"Moiraine, stop." That was hard to say, and she really didn't want to hear it, but he needed her mind, not her body just then. "Look at this. Tell me what's happening."

His mate reluctantly lifted her head from her treat and observed the image. "Such a thing. I think... it must be like a Dreamer." She looked at him wonderingly, with a fierce pride, and casually climbed into his lap, snuggling her petite self in so her back was to his broad chest and her sculpted legs stretched in front her, slightly parted so that his aching hammerhead could jut up between her silky thighs.

She nuzzled her head back into him as she began casually, but enthusiastically, stroking his turgid flesh. "You are using the World of Dreams to see beyond what lesser men ever could." A small kiss to the purple head that conveyed appreciation of what he was, and then she kept on. "From all indications, Min looks to be in a bit of a... situation."

Perrin just grunted and reached a hand around to cup his bitch's teat, watching the vision with her. Min looked to be in a washroom, kneeling over a basin, her pretty face pale and looking like she was going to sick up. Well, sick up again, judging from the distasteful contents of the receptacle in front of her. That moment passed though, and it looked like she regained control, brushing her lengthening hair away from her face as she wiped her mouth. "Light... I can't be..." She swallowed hard. "My cycle, how long since..." She looked like she was trying to solve a puzzle, then, suddenly, her eyes shot open wide, and her hands folded across her stomach. "No... not... not now... impossible... it was a dream!"

"What do you think she's rambling about?" Perrin pinched Moiraine's nipple to get her attention.

"Aah!" The Aes Sedai's fingers jerked around him, but didn't stop. "No mystery. She... well, it seems we share a similar state of being now." She grinned up at him wickedly and rubbed a palm across her own stomach. "Sire." She frowned then. "I was preoccupied at the time. When we wintered in the mountains, she and Rand must have--"

"Not Rand." Perrin was mystified. "I was around them both enough to know. And... I would have smelled it." Not something he would have enjoyed, but it was true. Very little was hidden from his nose.

"Poor Min." Moiraine had real sympathy. "Someone she bemoans had their way with her. Hopefully, in the White Tower, her friends will help her through this. Egwene and Elayne... Oh." One hand, and one hand only, stopped its ministrations and covered her mouth as a new picture formed in the mists. "Oh my." Incredibly, a girlish giggle wafted from her ruby lips. Perrin made a much different noise, but it was nothing compared to the sounds that assailed them both.

"Huh, huh, huh, huh..." The staccato exhalations followed one after the other, breathy and keening. "More. More. Oh Light, don't stop..." Faster, and higher. "That... give me more of

that

... Oh Light. Light! LIGHT! Elayne!"

On a simple, though well maintained bed attached to the wall, atop a pile of wrinkled linens that looked as if someone had torn them away in a fit, Egwene al'Vere, a friend to Perrin his whole life, the girl all but promised to his best friend, was gyrating uncontrollably under a seeming onslaught from the red-gold head working deliberatively at her crotch, making its own noises of satisfaction, even as her succulent bosom was positively mauled by the regal fingers clutching them. It was a move that he could appreciate very much, and he smiled as he glanced down at the love-marks on his own bitch's skin.

Perrin had always known that Egwene was beautiful, but seeing her like this, fully exposed, her shapely, fetching form on display and in the midst of a building bliss... did things to him. The stirring was doubled by the fact that Egwene's partner in this torrid moment was Elayne Trakand, Daughter-Heir of Andor, and just as comely as her bedmate, though in different ways. Very Stirring.

"Oh, you really like that." Moiraine's delighted little laugh came with a renewed vigor in the actions of her hands, and she wriggled herself in his lap playfully. His bitch felt bold then, and stretched herself up, turning her head into his and running her tongue up his neck from his collarbone to his chin. "In the Tower, we call such a pairing,

pillowfriends."

She drew out the word tantalizingly. "There's a certain symmetry here too. I really think that they're in my old room. On my old bed. Doing exactly what Siuan and I... eep!"

Her squawk at Perrin's unannounced lifting of her light frame in his bulging arms ended in a long, blissful sigh when he hilted himself in her once again, showing her what her place was, and that his patience had limits. "You've had plenty of time to recover."

She could only nod as he bounced her between his still-crossed legs, lifting her up his length like a ragdoll in his arms until he nearly popped out of her, then lowering her back down roughly. Up, then down, up, then down; until Moiraine was pudding, a boneless mass that could do nothing but rotate her hips in answer to the mating instincts that once again enveloped her senses.

Her willowy arms went up and around his neck as she arched her back and squeezed her eyes shut, and that move set off

something

in the wolf dream that caused it to change the vision once again. The picture was still of the White Tower, he could tell, but now the subject was his other friend, Mat Cauthon. And Mat was not alone.

"I never thought to see you again, I'll not lie." Mat was nearly laughing outright at the young woman who herself had her back plastered to his chest, her arms thrown up around his neck, and her hips thrusting on his in exactly the same way Moiraine was to Perrin. It was uncanny. The only difference between the carryings-on of the two Emond's Fielders was that Mat's bitch was much further along in her pregnancy than Perrin's, by the look of that rounded stomach. "Else Grinwell, Novice of the White Tower. What a world."