The nights could be long and restless without Moiraine. Sometimes Siuan wondered that if she conjured up a headache again, Moiraine would sense it brewing and sweep to her side. Wishful thinking. She was stupid enough to try it but she knew that both the headache and Moiraine were not easily biddable.
This time the heat of the summer drove her to desperation, with the medicinal medley brewed for her not working, she curled up on her side feeling like she needed to strip off her skin to breathe. This was a storm of a headache, swirling round every corner of her skull in fierce spiteful waves and there was only one remedy left to try. Reaching down in between her legs, she thought of Moiraine, her tough porcelain doll. Even now, Siuan couldn't quite fathom how she existed. She was like a mirage, only to be believed in the confines of this room, alive between the sheets. She tried to recall the rhythm of the finger strokes, didn't want to be dissatisfied with her own but found herself pleasantly surprised that thinking of Moiraine resulting in a pleasing climax, almost as good as the real thing. Shifting onto her front, she drove herself on, thumb circling, ignoring the invading heat and the ache in her muscles, thinking only of Moiraine as she built up the tension, the slow release of blinding delight that pleased her body and calmed her head. As she lay there thinking of her lover's forest scented skin and curtain of hair, she wondered if she was going to die alone here in this room one day with only the memories to keep her going.
She wondered when the last time would be.