A/N: So I know I'm typically a Twilight author, but The Wheel of Time has always owned me. I hadn't written any WoT fanfiction before, but when my friend FarDareisMai2's birthday rolled around recently, I had to try my hand at it. I flailed about her name when I first ran across her because I was so excited to meet another Jordan fan. That said, she and I both adore slash, so… this was born.

For those of you who normally read my Twilight fanfiction, I hope you'll give this one a chance. For any new Wheel of Time fandom people, welcome – and I'm a little bit scared :) There are two particular pairings that always came to mind when I read WoT – Rand and Mat… and Rand and Lan. I decided to play with the second.

If you are bothered by sex acts between men, don't read any further. Thanks so much for giving it a chance – and happy birthday again, FDM!

Oh, also... if you aren't familiar with the concept of drabbles as they exist in the Twilight fandom, they are blurbs of the story told in exactly 100 words based on picture or one-word prompts. This story is told in drabbles.


Rand's ankle twisted as he stepped back, sword whirling to deflect relentless blows from Lan's practice sword. The sun beat down on him, searing his bare chest, but he didn't notice. The half-healed wound in his side pulsed with his heartbeat, but pain was a luxury he didn't have.

He fed it all into the Flame – pain, exhaustion, stirrings of desire. All were distractions he couldn't afford.

Awareness skittered across the Void, making it quiver and flash as it threatened to shatter. He knew just how beautiful Lan was, just how confident.

And just how dangerous if Rand's concentration waned.


One more step back put him against the fence encircling the makeshift practice yard. Lan was death incarnate, nothing but cold concentration that matched his ice-blue eyes.

One glimpse of those eyes shattered Rand's precarious hold on the Void, and he felt the sting of the bound practice sword against his flesh. He grunted, one hand clutching his chest, but the Warder's back was already turned as he walked away.

His deadly grace was marred by the stiff set of his shoulders, and Rand wiped sweat from his forehead, breathing hard as he waited for the quiet tongue-lashing to come.


The rattle as Lan returned his bound sword to the pile with too much force was the only indication of his controlled anger. The sound made Rand wince; it was like a roar from any other man.

Lan turned, thumbs tucked into his sword belt. He lounged at his ease, but his entire body was tightly coiled, ready to strike. "Is it your intention to be skewered like a pig on feast day, sheepherder?"

Rand refused to take the bait, concentrating on keeping his jaw from clenching. Just yesterday, he'd lost his temper and yelled at the Warder.

Never again.


Rand acknowledged his mistakes with nothing more than a raised chin. Lan took a few steps toward him, closing the distance as he narrowed his eyes.

"Silent today?"

Rand gave an irritable shake of his head. "There's nothing to say when you're right."

He stalked over to the swords and threw his down. There'd be no more practice. He didn't think he could assume the Void just then if his life depended on it. His mind was perilous, full of forbidden thoughts about Lan.

"You belong to Elaine, wetlander."

The echo of Aviendha's voice was even more cutting than usual.


He didn't want Elaine. He didn't want any woman. He wanted the man beside him – and that was simply impossible.

Frustration and disappointment hardened his voice as he said, "That's all for today."

He expected some biting remark about how his enemies wouldn't be resting. When none came, he turned around, fists at his sides as his eyes sought out Lan.

He frowned when he saw the Warder watching him thoughtfully, an impenetrable expression on his face. Then the unthinkable happened. For the smallest fraction of a second, that mask slipped, letting Rand in for maybe the first time ever.


What he saw there shocked him.

Lan's eyes, always so distant and veiled, were burning.

It can't be…

His heart drummed madly in his chest. He swallowed slowly, not daring to move for fear that what little hope he saw would be shattered beyond repair.

And then it was.

Quick as lightning, the veil was back in place, and Lan was gliding away with a panther's grace. Without knowing exactly why, Rand reached out, grabbing his arm.

Lan glanced at him over his shoulder, jaw clenched as his eyes drifted from Rand's face down to the hand grasping his biceps.


Shrugging his shoulder, Lan wrenched himself free from Rand's hold.

"Wait," Rand said. His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the air of command.

Lan raised one eyebrow. "Is there something my Lord Dragon requires?"

Rand sighed, his hand falling. He wanted Lan to stay – but not like this. His eyes dropped to the ground as he shook his head, turning away.

He listened for the crunch of Lan's boots on the gravel, taking him away. Instead, Rand held his breath, shocked when the sound came closer.

"What is it you want from me, sheepherder?" Lan murmured gruffly.


Silence stretched, giving weight to the thin mountain air. Just this once, he wanted to be himself, not the Dragon Reborn or the Coramoor or the Car'a'carn. None of the bloody titles they kept laying at his feet.

Just Rand al'Thor.

"Nothing," he answered at long last. "Just you."

Lan's laugh was bitter as he shook his head. "Do not toy with me."

Frowning, Rand tried to puzzle out his meaning. Then it came to him: the Warder thought he was teasing because Lan's control had slipped for one second.

"I'm not," he whispered. "I want to be with you."


"Why would you?" Lan's voice was gruff as always, but this time, Rand heard the desire lurking there. "It doesn't matter. Whatever… this… is, my fate lies in the Blight. My life for a kingdom lost. I have nothing to give."

Rand's answer died on his lips with a bitter laugh. "And what have I to offer? Madness and my blood on the rocks of Shayol Ghul?"

Lan's eyes hardened, but he didn't answer.

When Rand answered, his voice was a whisper of steel. "Do not spout about widow's garb to me. That's not what I am asking of you."


For a moment, all hung in the balance. Rand felt a charge in the air and prayed that – for once – it was not his pull as Ta'veren but simple want that would make Lan act.

More than that, he prayed that Lan would act.

Nothing stirred in the cold blue eyes that pinned Rand in place. Then, without warning, Lan's hands grabbed Rand's biceps, pulling him close. The movement was rough, primal, but nothing compared to the heat in the Warder's lips as they claimed Rand's.

A great moan escaped both men, mingling and coalescing into one voice of longing.


Without fully thinking about what he was doing, Rand reached out, seizing saidin to open a hole in the air. The taste of Lan on his lips allowed him to ignore the taint that made his stomach roil and heave. He stumbled backwards, his chest pressed against Lan's and his fingers knotted in the other man's sweat-drenched hair as he guided him through the gateway.

Only when they were safely on the other side and Rand had let go of the One Power did Lan step away, breathing heavily. "Where are we?" he demanded.

"Rhuidean… the Roof of the Maidens."


"It was the first place I thought of."

Rand strode across the room and turned the lock on the door – one of the few that existed in the long-abandoned city. He knew the streets were full of change now that the Aiel had retaken Rhuidean, but this would remain the same: he was welcome under this roof, and none would dare disturb him here.

Especially since none knew he was here.

Lan had apparently had too much of waiting, for he followed Rand across the room. His arms snaked around Rand's waist from behind, hands dipping down to his thighs.


"You make me think things…" Lan's hoarse whisper broke off, his mouth finding the salty skin of Rand's neck as he bit down roughly, making Rand shudder. "Do you have any idea how many times I...?"

Again, he didn't finish, instead kissing hungrily beneath Rand's ear as one arm pinned Rand against him. The other hand roamed, now brushing teasingly from thigh to hip, now pulling Rand's shirttail from his pants.

It was maddening, but for once Rand didn't question his sanity.

He turned in the Warder's arms, matching Lan's strength as he began shoving him back across the room.


Thought fled in a blur of hands discovering hidden flesh. Clothes were cast aside, forgotten before they hit the floor as Rand lowered himself to the pallet in the corner, pulling Lan down with him.

He groaned when the other man settled on top of him, skin against skin. His mind had been sorely lacking in imagining the exquisite feeling of rough flesh and taut muscle, and he had certainly never anticipated the way Lan's tendons seemed to sing beneath his fingertips.

Rand's hands were splayed across Lan's bare back as they kissed passionately, their hips writhing in matched rhythm.


Lan shifted away, supporting his weight on one hand as the other drifted down, caressing Rand's side. Rand luxuriated in the attention, arching his back and biting his bottom lip. He gave a quiet gasp when Lan's hand closed around his shaft.

"Oh, Light…" Rand breathed, his eyes fluttering before closing. There, in the darkness, he gave himself over to what he was feeling.

His body trembled and stiffened when Lan's fingers slipping between his thighs, teasing puckered flesh.

Lan pulled away again, watching Rand in the dim light through the window. "You've never… have you?"

Rand shook his head.


"But don't stop," Rand whispered, kissing along Lan's jaw. He relished the feel of stubble and the taste of masculine sweat – so unlike anything he'd ever known. "Please," he added.

The change in Lan was small but noticeable in the way his hands slowed and his kisses became more reverent. He took his time, every movement designed for pleasure.

His weight left Rand suddenly, and the younger man sat up, his eyes scanning the room. He found Lan across the way, crouching over something. When he stood, the object fell away, and Rand realized it was the Warder's belt pouch.


Rand's eyes followed Lan's nude form as he walked back. Even here and now, he moved with the lethal grace of a panther, and Rand felt himself harden further at the thought of having him.

When Lan reached him again, all rational thought escaped as slick fingers caressed and probed, bringing pleasure where before there was pain.

The older man kissed his way down Rand's body, pausing to pay special attention to the boundary of the old wound in his side that throbbed even now. Rand's fingers tangled in Lan's hair beneath the braided leather cord that held it back.


Rand gasped, his hips lifting from the pallet when Lan's lips closed around his aching shaft. He had never before known a feeling like this, and when Lan hummed and teased with his teeth, he didn't think he would last long.

He was babbling, begging in a broken language for something he hadn't even admitted he wanted before today.

Lan released him from the incomparable torture and climbed back up his body, his thick thighs settling between Rand's as he kissed him hard. His hungry, swollen lips pulled away far enough to whisper gruffly, "Tell me to stop now, Rand."


"Light, no," Rand growled, biting Lan's bottom lip. The sound of Lan's voice murmuring his name was too much; there was no thought of stopping.

Lan's flimsy defense crumpled, and he reached between them with a gentleness that surprised Rand. Despite his care, Rand felt the sting as Lan stretched him, and he buried his face in the Warder's neck to muffle his cry.

Long moments were spent in pushing and pulling, each man gaining and losing until, finally, they were one. When the movement of Lan's hips became sure and rhythmic, Rand's cries were no longer declarations of pain.


The world was nothing more than sweat and moans, whispered words and forbidden pleasures. For a time, each man forgot duties and titles, forgot the outside world waiting for him, and remembered nothing more than that he was a man holding tight to the one he wanted most.

Long hours were spent there beyond the Spine of the World, their paradise in the heart of the Waste.

When at last the two men lay side by side, satiated and silent, the night sky bathed them in darkness, and they kissed sweetly as they enjoyed their freedom just a moment longer.