Long Talks
Disclaimer: I don't own the Wheel of Time
Slash warning. Graphic. Ye have been warned.
Cadsuane regarded the taller, prettier woman over her fingers. Semirhage's face did not flicker, did not move, even though she was shielded and in the possession of the Dragon.
They were alone, silently regarding each other over the table. Cadsuane did not even notice she held the shield in place anymore, so tranquil was the atmosphere.
"You say you are Semirhage," Cadsuane said conversationally.
"I am Semirhage," There was no missing the slight emphasise she put on 'am', as if irked at being questioned.
Cadsuane allowed her lips to quirk. "I am Cadsuane Melaidhrin,"
"I know. You are not so potent that I would've heard of you," Semirhage said dryly.
"I should hope not. To be known in the circles Forsaken travel in!" Cadsuane's voice was riddled with amusement.
"I care little for the games of children,"
"Children grow up,"
Semirhage merely regarded her for a moment. "You seem to see yourself as my equal, Cadsuane Melaidhrin,"
"I have learned not to be impressed with titles,"
The Forsaken smiled coldly. "I do not impress you?"
"Impress me? No. Why should you? A foolish plan, exceptionally foolish. Masquerading as the Daughter of the Nine Moons…throwing a fireball. A novice can produce a fireball. I was expecting something more…challenging from you," Cadsuane ran her tongue over her lips, waiting patiently for the response. She had no doubt she was Semirhage's equal. At least for the time being. Time would tell who took the throne.
Semirhage was silent, leaning back in her chair. "Foolish…you know nothing of my plans," She was icily calm.
Cadsuane observed her. She would not be one easily goaded into anger, not one easily goaded into revealing secret plans and agendas. A pity. "Plans? So you meant to be captured?"
Semirhage looked amused. "That is a rather large assumption,"
"An assumption I am willing to make,"
The taller woman threaded her hands. "Aren't you afraid, Cadsuane Melaidhrin?"
"Never," And it was true.
"Not even when your savior will descend into terminal madness, potentially handing the Dark Lord victory?"
"No. I don't fear what I cannot control. Rand may or may not descend into madness before he defeats the Dark One –" Semirhage's eyes flashed. "But I shall make sure he will win,"
"And how do you plan to do that?"
"Now, now. I let you keep your secrets; you'll let me keep mine,"
Semirhage looked bemused for a moment, and then shrugged elegantly. She was graceful woman. "Little it matters,"
"Hardly worth mentioning,"
A smile tugged at Semirhage's lips of its own accords. "You amuse me,"
"I should hope so. It's not everyday I put such effort into producing such sparkling conversation," Cadsuane was trying and didn't like to admit it. It was difficult to keep track of what was said, what could be said and what shouldn't. She couldn't let things slip in idle word-play with this woman. She wouldn't risk the downfall of mankind just to sound witty. Old age, Cadsuane thought humourlessly. Old bloody age.
Semirhage reached for a cup of wine, pouring it herself from the decanter which had been set at Cadsuane's command an hour earlier. Wine could be soothing in diplomatic situations. "A half cup, if you don't mind," Cadsuane slipped in casually.
Semirhage glanced at her, no doubt surprised, even though no emotion creased her face. "Since you hold me in captivity," She said flatly. "I will entertain these fantasies you have of the Chosen serving you,"
She pushed Cadsuane's cup across the table. Cadsuane grimaced. It had gone off, slightly, yet was still drinkable. She sipped and fought to keep her nose from wrinkling. Barely.
"Your weaves are failing," Semirhage, Cadsuane noted, sounded positively thrilled. It was the first emotion other than disdain to have touched her voice.
"Your Master is touching the world," Cadsuane supplied.
"And has been for longer than you know," Semirhage swirled her wine. "You squabble and play childish games while the world balances on a knife edge," She sipped. "And you have the nerve to call yourselves Aes Sedai," Her lips pressed together, then parted, allowing a tongue to sweep across them. "You have made my work easier,"
"Your work?" Cadsuane probed.
"My work, our work," Semirhage said, purposely vague.
"Don't try to tell me the Forsaken work as one," Cadsuane said flatly. "I am not so much a child that I would believe that. There are power struggles amongst the Forsaken – more so, I believe, than anything the Tower has – or will – experience,"
"The Tower," Semirhage sneered. "How proud you must be to have built an ivory tower,"
Cadsuane laid her cheek against the back of her palm to conceal her irritation at an old saying – older than the Tower – was pulled from Semirhage's memory. "We are not a Tower of idealists,"
"Oh?" Semirhage smirked. "You present the image of an unshakeable tower, all Aes Sedai bound together in a single purpose – but are you really?"
Cadsuane pressed her cup to her lips, vying for time. The silence stretched. Semirhage's eyes glittered frostily.
"We have had our difficulties," Cadsuane finally managed.
"Such as Egwene al'Vere and Elaida a'Roihan?"
"I'm surprised you think it's of worth to know their names,"
"It's not. One just picks up these things," Semirhage replied.
"To throw at Aes Sedai during discussions?"
"Believe me. I never thought I would be in a discussion with an Aes Sedai, let alone drinking wine," She touched her cup with two fingers.
"Well, I hardly thought I would one day meet Semirhage,"
"Don't tell me you're honored,"
"I'm not,"
Semirhage threw back her head and laughed. "I should like to have you on the rack,"
Cadsuane bared her teeth. Was that supposed to be some sort of back-handed compliment? "Ah, infamy in the torture chamber," She sipped, to conceal her revulsion.
"Infamy?" Semirhage mused. "It's a pleasure. One of the few that affords me in this day and age,"
"Your perversion, if history is accurate,"
"Perversion?" Semirhage's eyes flared. "Not a perversion! An art – misunderstood, tarnished by morals – by conformity …I never cared for conformity. The Hall favoured my patients' pitiable lives over mine,"
"Their mistake,"
"Quite. What did it matter how they suffered, as long as they lived? What did it matter? What did it matter if I - ?" Her mouth clamped shut suddenly, as if she had said too much.
"Used them for sordid gratification?"
Semirhage regarded her coolly.
"What was you fixation with it, Semirhage?" Cadsuane leaned forward suddenly. Scientific curiosity was sometimes a curse.
Semirhage seemed to be debating within herself as to whether to answer or not. Finally, the thrill of discussing her secret pleasure won out. "It was a thrill," She said finally. "Sordid, dirty…but mine. Some people deserve to be hurt, to be broken,"
Cadsuane's eyebrow arched. "You believe that?"
"Fervently," Semirhage's eyes were hot with illicit passion. "Punishment…should be dealt hot. Only someone who…truly believes in the justice of their cause can deal out a punishment befitting a crime. With leather in your hand and pale flesh under your fingers…that is how to punish,"
"So it was punishment for being wronged?"
"Amongst other things,"
"Such as?"
Semirhage smirked.
"Sexual, was it?"
"Most things seem to be,"
Cadsuane leaned her head to one side. "So that cool exterior actually contains a rampant sexual beast, out for gratification by any means possible?"
"It might," Folding her hands neatly in her lap, Semirhage looked the picture of collected calm.
This time Cadsuane laughed. She rose from her chair and crossed the room, to stare out the window, mostly as a diversion to give her a moment to think about the direction this conversation was heading.
The hairs rose on the back of her neck as she felt Semirhage's heated gaze on her back, then flinched in surprise as the woman said in her ear. "And you, Cadsuane Melaidhrin?" Light! The woman moved silently! Her breath was warm in Cadsuane's ear, her words liquid velvet.
"I?" Cadsuane replied in a soft voice.
"What…gratifies you?" Semirhage's fingers gently flicked over her hip, brushing her stomach.
Oh light. Cadsuane was not a woman often at a loss for words. Yet she was now, nervously wetting her lips, eyes fixed straight ahead. Semirhage began to slowly nibble the tip of her ear and when Cadsuane half-turned her head in astonishment, her upper lip too.
"Mmm," It was supposed to be a protest. It came out a breathy sigh.
Semirhage bit her upper lip, slipping her tongue inside her mouth. She was, Cadsuane noted, surprisingly tender. They broke apart, a string of saliva running from Cadsuane's mouth to Semirhage's.
Semirhage looked smug as Cadsuane touched a trembling finger to her lip. "What would you like me to do?" Semirhage asked in a whisper. "I can hurt you…if you'd like me to," She ran one finger down Cadsuane's cheek. "I can push you to the point all pain becomes pleasure. I can make pleasure pain. I can create explosions inside your head, make you envision things like you never envisioned before…I can make you whole, for a brief, split second in time…you, Cadsuane Melaidhrin, can be whole,"
The words came unbidden. "I want to hurt you,"
Semirhage's eyes became shadowed. "As you wish,"
Cadsuane was trembling as Semirhage left her, going to the centre of the room. "Bolt the door," She said casually, over her shoulder, as she began to loosen her dress.
Cadsuane, surprisingly, did as she was bidden. Then she slipped off the small leather belt that adorned her waist and complimented the mauves in her dress.
She held it in her upturned palms.
Semirhage's eyes glittered. "A classic," She let her simple black dress fall from her shoulders, revealing a perfectly proportioned body.
Cadsuane's breath caught, as she silently turned her back and knelt.
"Do it, then, Aes Sedai," Semirhage said in a throaty voice. "Punish me for all my sins,"
The first swing seemed to do little damage to Semirhage's skin.
Semirhage's shoulder hunched, as a soft moan – pain? Pleasure? – tore from her throat, lingering in the otherwise silent room, were only Cadsuane's grunts of exertion as she swung and swung repeatedly, blackening and bruising and eventually tearing the skin, letting a fine line of blood creep down her spine.
Cadsuane was perspiring from the effort it took to swing a belt repeatedly. She would never, she realised, make a good Mistress of the Novices.
She let the belt drop from her hand, exhausted, and Semirhage glanced over her shoulder. "Tut tut, Aes Sedai. Is that all the punishment you can dole out?"
"You deserve more," Cadsuane said flatly. "More than is my ability to give,"
Semirhage considered this, squatting on the floor in what would have been an undignified pose for any other woman. Not Semirhage, though. Her dignity remained undaunted. "A pity. I would've enjoyed seeing you pushed to your limit, Cadsuane Sedai, enjoyed seeing you attempt to break me,"
"You enjoy being broken?"
"I said attempt. You would not have broken me. You would have broken before that,"
Cadsuane wondered – fear clenched at her stomach – if she was right.
"And now," Semirhage's voice had taken on that throatiness again. "What more do you want from me?"
Cadsuane knew what she wanted – had wanted it all along, even as she had first swung the belt – but could not ask for it. It was simply not in her to ask. She looked away, perhaps embarrassed.
Perhaps something else.
Semirhage knew, though. She seemed to know the dark recesses of Cadsuane's mind – but perhaps it was not just Cadsuane. Semirhage was no stranger to the secret things that ran through a person's mind – any person's.
She came forward and hunkered at Cadsuane's skirts. Cadsuane merely watched as she pushed them up, pressing her nose into her well-turned thigh as though absorbing the musky scent. She bit – hard, hard enough to draw blood and a hiss from Cadsuane's throat.
She chuckled into the pale flesh, eagerly running her tongue up and across, tugging down Cadsuane's undergarments, backing her into the mahogany table, Cadsuane's hands flailing and finally finding purchase, knocking over the wine as she hauled herself up.
Semirhage's tongue shoved itself in roughly. Cadsuane moaned aloud, leaning back on her arms, even as Semirhage's hands bruised her thighs and her tongue swirled.
Light, even this had the memories of invasion, of conquering! Of taking control, of being submissive…of games…
And Cadsuane realised, when she felt the first hot tears on her cheeks, that she liked it – enjoyed it! She promised to the Light she would never, ever do this again. This was the closest Cadsuane Melaidhrin had ever been to defeat.
Cadsuane came, shivering weakly, as Semirhage drew back, smacking her lips and smiling. "Is there anything else you require, Aes Sedai?"
Cadsuane drew a shaky breath, gathering her senses and running skilled fingers over her neatly-coifed hair, inspecting it on instinct. "No…no…that will be all for now,"
Semirhage gave the merest, most mocking imitation of a bow she could give, a superior smirk on her face, even as she turned and left Cadsuane trembling.
The End