#lanfear fic

Muscles you didn’t even know you had ached as you trudged back to the inn, feet scarcely leaving the ground and shoulders dropping lower with every step, exhaustion set deep into your bones. The dreary building was hardly anyones dream home, but at least it was warm. And the rent was… negotiable. Passing through the gate with no hassle thanks to the late hour, you sped up somewhat at the sight of a flicker in your window. It was too steady to be coming from one of the handheld lanterns the local looters favoured, yet too faint for someone to be waiting to talk to you. That left one option, and the thought had you slowing back down again, conserving what little energy you had left.

One black leather boot crunched into the gravel harder than it should’ve and you saw the sole peel away from the rest of the shoe, cursing loudly and earning a filthy look from a washerwoman working overtime. If tonight went as hoped, a new pair would be easily obtained. You finally reached the door after what felt like an age of walking, pausing to take a breath before pushing hard on the wood and biting back a grin at the sight awaiting you.

The landlord, or landlady rather, was exquisite. Especially in her current state, so clearly through with the days work yet letting it show rather than taking the minute required to run a brush through her hair. No, she knew what drove you crazy by now and ensured that it was all she showed to you. Ever so slightly unkempt, what remaining clothes she wore crumpled and long dark hair flying madly about her face, she lounged against the stack of pillows on your bed armed with a smirk that loosened your corset ties then and there. Beautiful beyond comprehension.

“You put in for an extra week.”

Reaching down to remove your now broken boots, you let her voice wash over you, accent so different from your own and intoxicating in its allure. Tugging one ankle free, you tipped your head back to ask her, “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Mmmm, shouldn’t be,” she reached up, both stretching and giving you time to think, “Provided you continue being so timely with payments.”

Both feet now free, you tossed the useless shoes aside and made your way to the bed.

“I wouldn’t dream of being late, my lady,” You told her, punctuating the address with a sickening smile, honey laced with cyanide.

“Enough of these games.”

Even while you were a ways away from the bed, some invisible force drove you forward until her lips found yours. Her kiss was violent, explosive, and you needed it more than the air you so sorely missed. Somehow you wound up pressed against the sheets, Selene atop you with her hands desperately working at the many fastenings of your outfit. The kiss finally broke when she dragged your shirt over your head, corset lying underneath you with every pin undone.

“How you do that so fast I will never understand, it takes me years to get in and out of it.”

The smirk was back as she moved onto the lower portion of your dress, made easier by the lack of petticoats.

“I’d be more than happy to assist, but I fear I’d be reluctant to see it put back on.”

Skirts now around your ankles, she could see precisely how much her words affected you and simply groaned at the visible wet patch on your underthings and dragged them off of you. Now that you were bare and at her mercy, she moved to straddle you before pausing and panning her fingertips over your sides, admiring all that was hers. For you were hers, that much was never in doubt. Everything there was about your body, she knew, and every instrument possible of pleasing you she was a maestro of.

Getting restless, you went to grab her hands, beg her to do something, but she caught onto the attempt and pinned you down, leaning over you as she did so, raven hair tickling your chest.

“No. You will wait, and if I decide that you deserve it you shall get something, but not before I am sated. Do you understand?”

Your voice caught in your throat before you managed to get the words out. “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I understand, nothing for me until you’re satisfied mistress.”

“That’s my girl.”

With that, she began shedding her own clothes, a much faster affair than ridding you of yours, simply pulling her dress over her head and tearing one simple underskirt away. A clever shift of her hips later and her dripping entrance was hovering over your waiting mouth. It seemed she craved you as much as you did her. She said the things she did for a reason after all, and cumming in your mouth appeared to be her raison d’être.

Wasting no time, you wrapped your arms around her thighs and pulled her closer, maintaining the pressure you knew she needed as your tongue began its work. Roughly circling her clit, you focused on the sounds she was making above you and moved accordingly, switching down to let her ride you when the rolling of her hips became too much, delighting in the wicked noises and near fall when you sucked hard. This rhythm continued until she was naught but instinct, rocking against your mouth as she gripped your upper arm desperately, silently signalling her satisfaction even as her cum was still gushing down your cheeks.

Ever so slightly out of breath she asked, “Mmmmm, do you think you deserve your turn?”

Your voice was muffled under her as you replied, “Not up to me.”

“Oh you are good for me aren’t you,” she said as she slid down to press her lips to yours again, moaning at the taste of herself on your tongue as she pushed her own to meet it.

C’était ça. Das war’s. Iqet isain aso. This was it. At long last, she had found it. Well, found was a relative term. Does one find a metaphysical fraying in the fabric of the universe itself or simply detect it. This place was where the pattern was weakest. The new power source was clamouring for attention this close up, screaming as if a child wanting it’s mother to let it out to play. Fitting, somehow, that it should be here, in the Sharom. Let it out she would. This was her chance. Lews could deny her all he wished, but when this was done… She would be loved even more so than he, she would be revered. By all. That elusive third name would finally be granted to her, a symbol of her prestige upon first introduction.The days of him arriving at functions with her on his arm and later slipping away with that chit Ilyena would be long over, as would these of the opposite. The research he had been unable to quit with her could be more once again, more than a clandestine affair when he grew dissatisfied with Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar. No more of his denial of his continued infatuation with her. He would be hers again. The sooner the better, time to get this done. To open arms to a new age of power.

“Beidomon.” He rushed to her side after the utterance of his name, ready and willing to assist. Pathetic, truly.

Embracing the source, she saw him do the same. The two leaned into the familiarity of the One Power for what may well be the last time, drawing thick ropes of spirit to do the deed. Focusing on the True Source’s call, she accepted it, feeling Beidomon following suit. Twin weaves of saidin and saidar twined together, thickening before flattening in a flash that seemed to shake the magnificent building to its very core. Ignoring this, she kept channeling, the angreal tucked in her belt linking to its larger twin down far below and granting the blessing of continued power, keeping the flows growing and growing, and the rumbling to grow in congruence with it. She refocused on the call, emptying her mind of everything but it and her weaving, gently tying air and water into it as Beidomon did the same with fire and earth. Best to play to their strengths under such high stakes circumstances. She reached, and reality seemed to splinter. Shards of memory flashed before her eyes, nights with Lews assuring her of her value to him and the adjacent days of his constant neglect. Being used after their seperation, being ignored whenever Ilyena was present. Dread and anger and sickness and repulsion flooded her, but still she pressed on. Emotions were nothing but a hindrance to the goal, and could be dealt with when the straits weren’t quite so dire. The shards of existence seemed to rearrange themselves before her closed eyes, raising the question of how long had they been that way, how long since the horror of it all had forced the involuntarily attempt to shield herself from it.

This time, everything shattered. She was flung from the sky, barely catching herself in time. The pathetically weak flows of air righted her before she could hit the ground, and formed a protective dome woven with fire to defend against the debris raining down all around. It was horrifying in its splendour. The Sharom, split into thousands of pieces. The empty sky above Collam Daan, bare. Her, somehow still standing after all of the destruction.