This is basically a Love is Blind episode written by a Shadowspawn fanatic (me). Thanks to Min Daae for the inspriation. Fetches are quite fetching, no:D

Oh, and I don't own WoT.

Heart's Kin

Screams reverberated around Semmhirage, as she sent arrow after slim arrow of fire shooting through her captive's body. The sweet sounds seemed to curl in the air, sending delicious shivers down her spine. They felt almost as good as Shaidar Haran's caresses.

Abruptly the screams died away, and she realized she had dropped the weave. Biting her lip, she drew again on the One Power. The man she was interrogating would never give her the answers she needed if she couldn't stop thinking about her lover's big hands, his moon-white skin, his…Once again, the weave collapsed.

Stop it! she mentally snapped at herself. You have a job to do! The Great Lord will not be kind if you fail at this because of your daydreaming about a Myrddraal! Drawing harder than ever on the Power, she brought the man to writhing agony, and then began questioning him. But his answers were lost in a remembrance of Shaidar Haran's kiss. She ground her teeth in frustration. Never had she been so addled!

She had long been fascinated by Myrddraal, their snakelike movements, their ability to vanish into shadows, their keen eyeless vision. Their pleasures and minds were much like hers; she understood them better than humans. Whenever one gazed at her, she felt he was looking deep into her soul, and liking what he saw. She wished to earn more than approval, to show that in her heart, she was one of them.

Always, she had resisted her desires. Most people saw Myrddraal as base creatures, tools of the Shadow—certainly not things one of the Chosen should lust after! But Shaidar Haran was no mere Halfman. Hand of the Dark, far more powerful and magnificent than any other, he stood incredibly high in the Great Lord's esteem. Being his lover was cause for great honor and pride. And more pleasure than anyone believed.

Suddenly, there he was. Appearing out of nowhere, he flowed across the room with liquid grace and stopped between her and the man hanging on the wall. His gaze washed over her. "Have you learned the answers yet?"

Semmhirage trembled. She longed to lean on his broad chest, to feel his arms around her. Despite her height, she felt small and frail. She knew she was strong: only a very strong woman could enjoy the might of Shaidar Haran's passion. But when he stood before her in his glory, she always forgot.

"N-no," she stammered. "He is, uh, very determined not to tell. But I'll make him. I always do." Blood and ashes, I hate babbling!

"I hope you succeed soon. Otherwise there won't be time for…anything else, before you leave for the attack." He smiled. "And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

She swallowed, as if to quell the fountain of hunger and heat rising within her. "No, we wouldn't. I'll redouble my efforts."

He stroked her cheek with a snowy finger. "You are a woman to set any Myrddraal's heart on fire. I look forward to our meeting after you are done with this." He bent to kiss her softly, and then slipped away in the shadows.

Trying to slow her racing heart, she noticed that her captive was smirking through his pain. "What are you smiling at?"

"That's why you kept stopping," he chortled. "Even Darkfriends have weaknesses, I see. Love fuddles you like everyone else!"

"We'll see about that," she replied, reaching for the Power once again.