Drunk
Title: Drunk
Fandom: Wheel of Time
Characters: Moiraine, Rand
Prompt: Drunk
Word Count: 956
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Moiraine is always the pussycat, never the mouse. Sequel to Tipsy
Table: http://airelement.livejournal.com/53973.html
So he and Egwene weren’t meant to be together. Rand wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Whenever he thought about women and the future, he’d always assumed that he and Egwene would marry. Everyone had expected them to, and Rand knew that Egwene did too.
Even when Moiraine took he, Perrin and Mat away from Emond’s Field, Egwene had come too. Rand didn’t know when he’d get back home - or if he ever would, although he didn’t like to dwell on that unpleasant possibility - but Egwene had been with him and so their relationship had remained constant.
But Min had said that he and Egwene would never be together. Rand didn’t know what to think, especially when he heard her muttering to herself about how he was sure to get a swelled ego from having three women love him. He wondered who the three would be, ruling out all the girls he had known back in the Two Rivers - the only women he otherwise knew were Min, Nynaeve and Moiraine. He couldn’t see Min behaving like a love-struck girl any time soon - he had a hard time imagining her behaving like a girl at all. The thought of a romantic relationship with Nynaeve made his stomach turn; the fact that she was, in reality, rather pretty, was most definitely overshadowed by the number of times she’d told Tam to switch him thoroughly. He wanted a wife, not a boss.
Which is why you almost kissed Moiraine last night, isn’t it, his treacherous mind said sarcastically. What? I don’t want to marry her! Light, she’s a bloody Aes Sedai!
“What’s the matter with you?” Perrin asked, seeing the horror on Rand’s face.
“Huh? Oh - nothing,” Rand muttered. “I need a drink.” Perrin shoved the mug of ale into his hand. “Thanks.”
------
Moiraine stared down into the glass of wine gripped tightly in her long, slender fingers. What in the Light had she been thinking last night? An abundance of brandy was not enough reason to suddenly develop an attraction to a man fifteen years younger than her - barely an adult - who happened to be the Dragon Reborn? Moiraine was not the sort of woman who had ever lost her head over a man. She did not let herself get swept away by the charms of a man, ever. Not that Rand al’Thor was well versed in the art of seduction; Moiraine doubted that he’d ever lain with a woman. So letting her thoughts - and very nearly her actions - run away without her consent was not something she enjoyed.
Except for the time he was in her bed. Light, that sounded wrong, but it was true. She’d been very content with that situation. When Rand had stumbled into her bed, she’d instinctively rolled onto him to prevent him from leaving. She’d had every intention of seducing him, and her mind had been perfectly happy to let her body take control. Then, of course, she’d realised that she was well on her way to being drunk and decided that she was going to regain her role as pussycat in the flirting game of cat and mouse.
Moiraine wasn’t fooling herself. She knew she wanted Rand. She didn’t know whether or not he was horrified at what they’d nearly done last night - she could just imagine him thinking ‘but she’s a bloody Aes Sedai!’ - but she was going to enjoy the game of seduction before she enjoyed the prize. Moiraine didn’t jump into a man’s bed when she wanted him. Half the fun was dangling him on a string of hope until he was practically kneeling by her bed, begging. She didn’t play mouse. Moiraine Sedai was most definitely all pussycat.
------------
When Moiraine’s door opened later that evening, she realised that it was too late to play games. Rand pushed the door shut and came over to where she was leaning elegantly against the dressing table, her silk robe only loosely tied and exposing much of her breasts.
The look in his eyes was rather refreshing. It had been a long time since Moiraine had seen a gaze that spoke of lustful intent directed at her. Not that men didn’t look at her with desire, because they did - her aloofness simply discouraged their actual intents.
“You’re drunk,” she told him, although she made no effort to push him away when he stepped close to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I do not wish for you to despise me tomorrow, Rand.” It was a pity she could smell beer faintly. If she couldn’t, she’d be perfectly happy to have her wicked way with him.
“You’d be happy with this if I were sober?” he questioned. Moiraine nodded. Although he probably didn’t realise it, Rand was very attractive. His muscled arms and chest were at counterpoint to his gentle face and Moiraine suspected from the size of his feet that his muscles weren’t the only large part of his anatomy. I think you’ve had a little too much wine yourself, Moiraine, she scolded herself in exasperation.
“Maybe another night,” she said, refusing to let regret creep into her voice. She wasn’t that swept away by lust. Rand chuckled sheepishly.
“Did I mention I’m not actually drunk?” he said. Moiraine rolled her eyes.
“I can smell beer, Rand,” she pointed out. She wasn’t completely stupid.
“Perrin poured it down my shirt,” he admitted. Moiraine’s eyes left his and examined his shirt. Sure enough there was a wet stain running down one side of the cloth.
“Well, in that case…” she grabbed his collar and pulled his mouth down to hers. When she released him, she smirked up at him. “Let me help you out of that shirt.”
Fandom: Wheel of Time
Characters: Moiraine, Rand
Prompt: Drunk
Word Count: 956
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Moiraine is always the pussycat, never the mouse. Sequel to Tipsy
Table: http://airelement.livejournal.com/53973.html
So he and Egwene weren’t meant to be together. Rand wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Whenever he thought about women and the future, he’d always assumed that he and Egwene would marry. Everyone had expected them to, and Rand knew that Egwene did too.
Even when Moiraine took he, Perrin and Mat away from Emond’s Field, Egwene had come too. Rand didn’t know when he’d get back home - or if he ever would, although he didn’t like to dwell on that unpleasant possibility - but Egwene had been with him and so their relationship had remained constant.
But Min had said that he and Egwene would never be together. Rand didn’t know what to think, especially when he heard her muttering to herself about how he was sure to get a swelled ego from having three women love him. He wondered who the three would be, ruling out all the girls he had known back in the Two Rivers - the only women he otherwise knew were Min, Nynaeve and Moiraine. He couldn’t see Min behaving like a love-struck girl any time soon - he had a hard time imagining her behaving like a girl at all. The thought of a romantic relationship with Nynaeve made his stomach turn; the fact that she was, in reality, rather pretty, was most definitely overshadowed by the number of times she’d told Tam to switch him thoroughly. He wanted a wife, not a boss.
Which is why you almost kissed Moiraine last night, isn’t it, his treacherous mind said sarcastically. What? I don’t want to marry her! Light, she’s a bloody Aes Sedai!
“What’s the matter with you?” Perrin asked, seeing the horror on Rand’s face.
“Huh? Oh - nothing,” Rand muttered. “I need a drink.” Perrin shoved the mug of ale into his hand. “Thanks.”
------
Moiraine stared down into the glass of wine gripped tightly in her long, slender fingers. What in the Light had she been thinking last night? An abundance of brandy was not enough reason to suddenly develop an attraction to a man fifteen years younger than her - barely an adult - who happened to be the Dragon Reborn? Moiraine was not the sort of woman who had ever lost her head over a man. She did not let herself get swept away by the charms of a man, ever. Not that Rand al’Thor was well versed in the art of seduction; Moiraine doubted that he’d ever lain with a woman. So letting her thoughts - and very nearly her actions - run away without her consent was not something she enjoyed.
Except for the time he was in her bed. Light, that sounded wrong, but it was true. She’d been very content with that situation. When Rand had stumbled into her bed, she’d instinctively rolled onto him to prevent him from leaving. She’d had every intention of seducing him, and her mind had been perfectly happy to let her body take control. Then, of course, she’d realised that she was well on her way to being drunk and decided that she was going to regain her role as pussycat in the flirting game of cat and mouse.
Moiraine wasn’t fooling herself. She knew she wanted Rand. She didn’t know whether or not he was horrified at what they’d nearly done last night - she could just imagine him thinking ‘but she’s a bloody Aes Sedai!’ - but she was going to enjoy the game of seduction before she enjoyed the prize. Moiraine didn’t jump into a man’s bed when she wanted him. Half the fun was dangling him on a string of hope until he was practically kneeling by her bed, begging. She didn’t play mouse. Moiraine Sedai was most definitely all pussycat.
------------
When Moiraine’s door opened later that evening, she realised that it was too late to play games. Rand pushed the door shut and came over to where she was leaning elegantly against the dressing table, her silk robe only loosely tied and exposing much of her breasts.
The look in his eyes was rather refreshing. It had been a long time since Moiraine had seen a gaze that spoke of lustful intent directed at her. Not that men didn’t look at her with desire, because they did - her aloofness simply discouraged their actual intents.
“You’re drunk,” she told him, although she made no effort to push him away when he stepped close to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I do not wish for you to despise me tomorrow, Rand.” It was a pity she could smell beer faintly. If she couldn’t, she’d be perfectly happy to have her wicked way with him.
“You’d be happy with this if I were sober?” he questioned. Moiraine nodded. Although he probably didn’t realise it, Rand was very attractive. His muscled arms and chest were at counterpoint to his gentle face and Moiraine suspected from the size of his feet that his muscles weren’t the only large part of his anatomy. I think you’ve had a little too much wine yourself, Moiraine, she scolded herself in exasperation.
“Maybe another night,” she said, refusing to let regret creep into her voice. She wasn’t that swept away by lust. Rand chuckled sheepishly.
“Did I mention I’m not actually drunk?” he said. Moiraine rolled her eyes.
“I can smell beer, Rand,” she pointed out. She wasn’t completely stupid.
“Perrin poured it down my shirt,” he admitted. Moiraine’s eyes left his and examined his shirt. Sure enough there was a wet stain running down one side of the cloth.
“Well, in that case…” she grabbed his collar and pulled his mouth down to hers. When she released him, she smirked up at him. “Let me help you out of that shirt.”