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kat_lair***
Title: every lover's got a little dagger
Author:kat_lair
Fandom: Wheel of Time (books)
Pairing: Aviendha/Elayne Trakand
Tags: Ficlet, Does This Count As Sibling Incest? Do I Care? Maybe and No, Cross-cultural
Rating: T
Word count: 913
Summary: “Your first-sister grows impatient.”
Author notes: Response toourswordsmeandeath's prompt of every lover's got a little dagger in their hand (from 'Love from the Other Side') over at likealighthouse's Fall Out Boy Femslash February Ficathon. Takes place in Book Nine after Elayne and Aviendha become first-sisters, which is one of my favourite scenes in the whole series. My notes in the book margin say 'I love this and hate that it was about a man' *g* This is unbetaed so if you spot a typo/mistake, please do let me know.
every lover's got a little dagger on AO3
Enter your Aviendha has been waiting for good two hours before Elayne finally gets back to her rooms. She still doesn’t understand wetlander politics, but she does know what it means to lead and lead well, the time it takes, to weight of it. Elayne carries it well, in part perhaps because she was born to it but in larger part because she cares.
Even so, this must take priority. Deserves to. They’ve been first-sisters now for three days, and have not yet had a chance to experience the benefits of it. Rand is away and not yet ready, may never get a chance to be either, and Min is a… Not a problem, but something largely unknown still, something for another day which may never come. But she and Elayne are here, together, sharing time and space, at least temporarily, their lives now inexorably tied. They’ve paid the price, and now Aviendha wants the reward.
Getting to Elayne’s bedchambers had not been easy, even with the guards knowing the level of access she enjoyed. Aviendha had honestly enjoyed the challenge. It made the experience of being here, naked and waiting in Elayne’s bed, the silk covers cool and smooth like water against her skin, feel even more like something she’d earned.
Finally, there’s a sound of footsteps, muffled by thick carpets but perfectly audible to Aviendha’s sharp ears. Elayne says something to whoever has accompanied her, then something else that must be directed at the guards, and then the heavy oak doors finally swing open.
Aviendha is not hiding, lying as she is on top of the covers, but the desert has taught her how to be still, how to be remain unnoticed even in plain sight. With anyone else she would’ve remained unseen for much longer, but Elayne isn’t just anyone. She’s a powerful Aes Sedai, she’s the soon to be crowned Queen of Andor, she’s a woman who has honed her skills of survival out of necessity and tenaciousness that Aviendha admires.
And more important than any of that, she is now Aviendha’s sister.
Elayne’s queenly posture slumps somewhat as soon as the doors close behind her and she heads over to the vanity, shrugging out of the heavy outer robe she’d been wearing and reaching to undo her jewellery. There’s no direct line of sight to the bed via the mirror, but something must catch Elayne’s attention anyway as her hands pause behind her head, working the clasp of the necklace. It’s only for a second, a tell so subtle even Aviendha may not have noticed it if she hadn’t been watching.
For a moment, Elayne does nothing, only completes her task, removing her rings and bracelets and setting them down with an air of someone fully focused on what she’s doing.
Aviendha knows better. Which is why when the weaves of air snap toward her like a whip, she’s prepared, buffering them with a shield of her own, not easily because Elayne is too good for that, but successfully enough. What Aviendha hasn’t expected, however, at least not consciously, is the way Elayne pivots, another set of weaves already waiting as she leaps onto the bed, a small dagger pressed against Aviendha’s jugular, weaves of saidar tangling her legs in the sheets.
“Aviendha!” Elayne recognises her in plenty of time before any actual damage is done, but she still reels back and pulls the dagger away almost comically far.
Aviendha laughs, delighted and smug because she chose well.
“What are you doing here?” Elayne asks, but there’s a look on her face that tells Aviendha that she’s already guessing at the answer.
“Waiting for you,” Aviendha says. The fabric that had so effectively trapped her arms has loosened at Elayne’s weaves disintegrated, and she lifts a hand to press it against Elayne’s flushed cheek, the skin warm against her palm. “Your first-sister grows impatient.”
There’s a struggle on Elayne’s face – decorum and desire, embarrassment and edacity – which Aviendha knows she can see only because Elayne is letting her. In the end, it’s love that wins.
As it must. Else they would not have tied their lives together as they have.
“Well,” Elayne says, carefully shuffling back on the bed until she’s on her feet next to it, “it wouldn’t do to disrespect the customs and traditions of my first sister.” There’s a blush on her face as she sets the dagger on the bedside table.
Aviendha grins, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress as well, watching the way Elayne’s gaze dips low, before snapping back to her face.
“They’re your customs and traditions too, now,” she says.
Elayne looks startled by that for a second but then she nods, determined. A small smile quirks the corner of her lips and Aviendha can’t wait to map the shape of it with hers. Then she turns around and presents her back to Aviendha, a column of tiny pearl buttons securing her dress from the top of her spine to the subtle swell of her backside.
“In that case,” Elayne murmurs, voice soft but sure, as sure as she’d been when she’d flung herself into Aviendha’s arms after they’d shared the best and the worst of themselves and still chosen each other. “You should help your sister so she can celebrate them with you.”
With steady hands and a warm glow of anticipation that wraps around her like the desert wind, Aviendha reaches for the top button.
***
Title: every lover's got a little dagger
Author:
kat_lair Fandom: Wheel of Time (books)
Pairing: Aviendha/Elayne Trakand
Tags: Ficlet, Does This Count As Sibling Incest? Do I Care? Maybe and No, Cross-cultural
Rating: T
Word count: 913
Summary: “Your first-sister grows impatient.”
Author notes: Response to
ourswordsmeandeath's prompt of every lover's got a little dagger in their hand (from 'Love from the Other Side') over at likealighthouse's Fall Out Boy Femslash February Ficathon. Takes place in Book Nine after Elayne and Aviendha become first-sisters, which is one of my favourite scenes in the whole series. My notes in the book margin say 'I love this and hate that it was about a man' *g* This is unbetaed so if you spot a typo/mistake, please do let me know.every lover's got a little dagger on AO3
Enter your Aviendha has been waiting for good two hours before Elayne finally gets back to her rooms. She still doesn’t understand wetlander politics, but she does know what it means to lead and lead well, the time it takes, to weight of it. Elayne carries it well, in part perhaps because she was born to it but in larger part because she cares.
Even so, this must take priority. Deserves to. They’ve been first-sisters now for three days, and have not yet had a chance to experience the benefits of it. Rand is away and not yet ready, may never get a chance to be either, and Min is a… Not a problem, but something largely unknown still, something for another day which may never come. But she and Elayne are here, together, sharing time and space, at least temporarily, their lives now inexorably tied. They’ve paid the price, and now Aviendha wants the reward.
Getting to Elayne’s bedchambers had not been easy, even with the guards knowing the level of access she enjoyed. Aviendha had honestly enjoyed the challenge. It made the experience of being here, naked and waiting in Elayne’s bed, the silk covers cool and smooth like water against her skin, feel even more like something she’d earned.
Finally, there’s a sound of footsteps, muffled by thick carpets but perfectly audible to Aviendha’s sharp ears. Elayne says something to whoever has accompanied her, then something else that must be directed at the guards, and then the heavy oak doors finally swing open.
Aviendha is not hiding, lying as she is on top of the covers, but the desert has taught her how to be still, how to be remain unnoticed even in plain sight. With anyone else she would’ve remained unseen for much longer, but Elayne isn’t just anyone. She’s a powerful Aes Sedai, she’s the soon to be crowned Queen of Andor, she’s a woman who has honed her skills of survival out of necessity and tenaciousness that Aviendha admires.
And more important than any of that, she is now Aviendha’s sister.
Elayne’s queenly posture slumps somewhat as soon as the doors close behind her and she heads over to the vanity, shrugging out of the heavy outer robe she’d been wearing and reaching to undo her jewellery. There’s no direct line of sight to the bed via the mirror, but something must catch Elayne’s attention anyway as her hands pause behind her head, working the clasp of the necklace. It’s only for a second, a tell so subtle even Aviendha may not have noticed it if she hadn’t been watching.
For a moment, Elayne does nothing, only completes her task, removing her rings and bracelets and setting them down with an air of someone fully focused on what she’s doing.
Aviendha knows better. Which is why when the weaves of air snap toward her like a whip, she’s prepared, buffering them with a shield of her own, not easily because Elayne is too good for that, but successfully enough. What Aviendha hasn’t expected, however, at least not consciously, is the way Elayne pivots, another set of weaves already waiting as she leaps onto the bed, a small dagger pressed against Aviendha’s jugular, weaves of saidar tangling her legs in the sheets.
“Aviendha!” Elayne recognises her in plenty of time before any actual damage is done, but she still reels back and pulls the dagger away almost comically far.
Aviendha laughs, delighted and smug because she chose well.
“What are you doing here?” Elayne asks, but there’s a look on her face that tells Aviendha that she’s already guessing at the answer.
“Waiting for you,” Aviendha says. The fabric that had so effectively trapped her arms has loosened at Elayne’s weaves disintegrated, and she lifts a hand to press it against Elayne’s flushed cheek, the skin warm against her palm. “Your first-sister grows impatient.”
There’s a struggle on Elayne’s face – decorum and desire, embarrassment and edacity – which Aviendha knows she can see only because Elayne is letting her. In the end, it’s love that wins.
As it must. Else they would not have tied their lives together as they have.
“Well,” Elayne says, carefully shuffling back on the bed until she’s on her feet next to it, “it wouldn’t do to disrespect the customs and traditions of my first sister.” There’s a blush on her face as she sets the dagger on the bedside table.
Aviendha grins, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress as well, watching the way Elayne’s gaze dips low, before snapping back to her face.
“They’re your customs and traditions too, now,” she says.
Elayne looks startled by that for a second but then she nods, determined. A small smile quirks the corner of her lips and Aviendha can’t wait to map the shape of it with hers. Then she turns around and presents her back to Aviendha, a column of tiny pearl buttons securing her dress from the top of her spine to the subtle swell of her backside.
“In that case,” Elayne murmurs, voice soft but sure, as sure as she’d been when she’d flung herself into Aviendha’s arms after they’d shared the best and the worst of themselves and still chosen each other. “You should help your sister so she can celebrate them with you.”
With steady hands and a warm glow of anticipation that wraps around her like the desert wind, Aviendha reaches for the top button.
***