Introduction

I was listening to the Wheel of Time book 1, Eye of the World on a long road trip in the fall of 2022. Having read books 1-6 a few years previously, before drowning in all the details, I was refreshing myself before the new Amazon TV series (which turned out to be garbage). Often with good characters I am curious as to what might have happened behind the closed door or out of the scene, e.g. the sex. So, 4 short scenes from the first book of me imaging the what if. First posted on Archive of Our Own. Familiarity with the Wheel of Time characters and Book 1 is not essential but the reader might be lost as to what the scene is about. For reference, the Wiki fandom has detailed characters notes and art.

Edited again in Feb 2026.

Maintains canon and storyline, not AU.

Cover art and AI Models 18+ at rendering.

Part I of IV, takes place in Chapter 22: A Path Chosen (Aine 20 N.E. 998)

This is a work of fantasy fan fiction with no relations to persons living or past. Graphic depictions of sexual acts between two people.

Once Perrin and Egwene find each other after fleeing Shagar Logoth they leave immediately to Caemlyn before Perrin can dry off, now they break for camp as night falls. They have become separated from the rest of the traveling party.

Egwene & Bela

“Perrin, your lips are blue, and your clothes are still wet, give them here,” Egwene ordered as the sunset on their small campsite nestled among a few pine trees.

Perrin was freezing. In the cool evening air, his body shivered as the sun sank lower in the sky. After the deep dunking in the river, even a day of walking and the occasional ride on Bela had not dried his clothes or relieved the cold from his bones. He lost his horse, cloak, and meager possessions as he swam to safety. While Egwene made camp, he brushed Bela’s coat and used the feed bag with a small handful of oats to feed her. Now he knelt by the fire his mind foggy, having only eaten a small wedge of cheese on a hard cracker for supper. Egwene spoke to him, reaching out a hand. It took a moment to process what Egwene said.

“What, my clothes?” he said numbly. He was having trouble focusing. Had it really just been last night they were running for their lives from the Myrddraal and Trollocs as they escaped the cursed city.

He stood looking at the small fire Egwene had made while he tended Bela. A simple circle of stones encircling a small crackling flame. He dropped a few small pieces of wood he feathered with his axe head on the flames. Still, he was not warm. The small kettle she carried for boiling water was sat on a rock in the fire. The firelight barely lit the small hollow of ground they had taken shelter in out of the wind.

“I will give you my cloak for now,” Egwene said as she untied her heavy traveling cloak from her slender shoulders.

He was cold, back in Emond’s Field she was treated like an apprentice Wisdom, having learned some of Nynaeve’s knowledge. Egwene had worked hard after the attack in Two Rivers to save lives and give comfort. So tonight, as he shivered cold, Perrin listened to her orders.

Perrin stood and unbuttoned his wet coat and handed it over to Egwene who draped it over a piece of cordage she had strung between two trees near the fire. He doubted the small flames could do much, but he did not want to fight with the small girl. Her big brown eyes watched him as he pulled the dirty white linen shirt over his head and handed it over.

“Now your pants after you set your wet boots near the fire.” She said having continued to drape clothes over the line. She held her cloak bundled in one arm. Egwene stood a good two heads shorter than him in her flat shoes.

Perrin sat on Bela’s saddle which was laid out at the head of Egwene’s blanket roll next to the small fire. He removed his boots and then socks until he sat only in his damp undershorts. Handing each to Egwene in turn. He folded his arms across his chest and put his hands under his armpits. His nipples were hard from the cold but sheltered under his arms. Behind him, he heard Egwene before he felt her fingers touch his damp curly hair.

“Here you go, wrap this around yourself and lay down.” He felt the heavy cloth of her traveling cloak drop onto his shoulders. He snugged it over him as he did as he was told lying back on the blankets, head on the saddle. “Now your drawers,” she said matter of fact, hand out. He sighed, handed them over, then pulled the cloak around himself.

He must have dozed off. Opening his eyes, he felt her small body next to his. Perrin lay on his back with the cloak spread over them like a blanket. The night was pitch black and the partial moon was hidden by the trees, the small fire now amber coals. The cup of shared tea had warmed him briefly enough to let him doze.

Now he felt her small hand on his naked chest. She lay on her side on his right, also under the cloak on the blanket.

“Put your arm around me,” she said in a quiet but firm voice.

Perrin lifted his right arm. First finding her silky curls in the darkness at his shoulder. Then his hand found her naked back at the same time he felt the flesh of her heavy breasts pressing against his chest.

The coals glowed dull red beneath the cloak, barely enough to push back the chill that clung to Perrin’s skin even now. His wet clothes dripped slowly from the line, forgotten. Beneath the heavy wool, he lay naked, the rough blanket beneath his back the only barrier between him and the cold earth. Egwene curled against his right side, her bare breasts pressed soft and warm to his ribs, nipples stiff little points that dragged across his skin with every slow breath she took.

Her small hand rested low on his belly at first, fingers splayed through the coarse trail of hair that led downward. Then it drifted lower, deliberate, sliding into the thick nest at his groin. Perrin’s cock, already half-hard from her nearness and the shared heat, thickened fully under her touch. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft, warm palm against velvet skin, and gave a slow, testing stroke from root to swollen head.

He sucked in a breath. “Egwene...”

“Shh,” she whispered, lips brushing his collarbone. “We’re cold. Let me warm you.” Her thumb circled the slick tip, spreading the bead of precum that had already welled there. “Nynaeve always said body heat is best on winter nights. And ... other things keep the blood moving.”

Perrin’s right arm curled around her instinctively, hand sliding down the smooth curve of her back until it dipped beneath the waistband of her thin drawers. His callused palm cupped one firm ass cheek, fingers spreading to trace the warm cleft. She arched slightly into the touch, pressing her thigh higher across his hips so the damp heat between her legs brushed his skin.

“Did you ever share the big bed with your sisters when the snow came deep?” she asked softly, voice almost dreamy as her hand continued its lazy rhythm, up, down, twisting gently at the crown.

He remembered. “Sometimes. After I was apprenticed. Nights so cold the windows frost inside. We’d pile under the quilts, Adora, Deselle, sometimes the others. Hands wandered. Mouths too. The Wisdoms said it was natural, kept us healthy, kept the dark away.”

Egwene hummed approval, her fingers tightening just enough to make him twitch in her grip. “At the Inn it was the same. Ma and Da’s big bed, all us girls crowded in when the wind howled. Naked under the blankets, clothes steal warmth, Ma said. My sisters would touch each other first, fingers between legs, mouths on nipples, giggling, whispering. Then Da would let one of us ... help him.”

Perrin’s breath grew ragged. His left hand found her left breast, heavy, round, overflowing his palm. The wide areola pebbled under his thumb; he rolled the thick nipple gently, feeling it harden to a stiff peak. Egwene sighed, hips rocking once against his thigh.

“My turn came when I was ... small,” she continued, voice low and intimate. “Breasts just budding, barely a curl of hair between my thighs. Ma took my hands, small then, and wrapped them around Da’s cock. Long, not thick like yours. Warm. Already hard. She showed me the stroke, slow at first, then firmer. Da touched my little nipples, called me pretty. My sisters watched, fingers busy under the blanket. When he came it spurted high, white ropes across his belly. We laughed. After that I practiced. A lot. As my breasts grew heavier, Da would suckle them while I stroked him, telling me how beautiful I was becoming.”

Perrin groaned, hips lifting into her hand. Precum leaked steadily now, slicking her palm. He slid his right hand deeper into her drawers, fingers gliding along the cleft until he found the tight pucker of her back entrance. He circled it lightly, pressing just enough to make her gasp and clench. Lower still, he discovered her folds, hot, swollen, already drenched.

“Light, you’re soaked,” he rasped.

“For you,” she breathed. “Keep touching. Like Da did.”

He obeyed, middle finger slipping between her slick lips, finding the small, hard nub of her clit and rubbing slow circles. Egwene whimpered, stroking him faster, firm, twisting pulls that made his balls draw up tight.

She shifted suddenly, sliding down his body. The cloak fell aside; cool air kissed his skin for a heartbeat before her hot mouth closed over the head of his cock.

Perrin’s head fell back with a choked growl. Her tongue swirled around the ridge, tasting the salty precum, then she sank deeper, lips stretching wide around his girth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. One small hand pumped the base in time with her mouth; the other cupped and rolled his heavy balls, tugging gently.

He tangled both hands in her dark curls, not forcing her, just holding, as his hips rocked up in shallow thrusts. “Egwene, fuck your mouth...”

She hummed around him, the vibration shooting straight to his spine. Her tongue pressed flat along the underside, tracing the thick vein, then flicked the sensitive slit on every upstroke. Saliva dripped down his shaft, pooling at the base; she used it to slick her hand, stroking faster.

Perrin’s thighs tensed. “I’m close, Light, I’m...”

She didn’t pull off. Instead, she took him deeper, throat relaxing just enough to let the head nudge the back. Her fingers pressed behind his balls, massaging the sensitive spot there.

He came with a low, broken groan, hips jerking, cock pulsing hard as thick ropes of semen flooded her mouth. Egwene swallowed greedily, milking him through every spurt, tongue lapping until he was spent and twitching.

When she finally released him with a wet pop, she crawled back up his body, lips shiny, chin glistening. She kissed him deeply, sharing the faint salty taste of himself. Perrin groaned into her mouth, arms wrapped tight around her.

“Thank you,” he whispered against her lips, voice wrecked. “That was ... more than I ever dreamed.”

Egwene nestled her head under his chin, one leg thrown over his hip, her still-damp sex pressed to his thigh. “We take care of each other now. The Wheel wove us together tonight for a reason.”

Perrin pulled the cloak over them both, trapping their mingled heat. His hand settled protectively on her ass; the other reached out to rest on the haft of his axe, close beside the blanket roll.

They drifted into sleep like that—bodies entwined, hearts beating in slow unison—while the coals died to ash and the stars wheeled overhead.

Tomorrow they would walk on toward Caemlyn. Tonight, they were simply warm.

(End of Part I)

(Late night, after the rescue from the Whitecloaks)

Perrin was the odd man out, which made him lucky in that he had his own small room on the top floor of the Inn.

He was freshly bathed and ate heartily in the common room; a sampling of meats, bread, and potatoes washed down with a good ale. Moiraine’s gold coin provided a bounty of food for the weary travelers even in tough times. The comely girls who provided the hot bathing water had done their best on his clothes but in the end, he got a new cotton shirt, socks, and a pair of underdrawers. His coat and pants mended best they could and cleaned. His new traveling cloak donated by his former captors.

As a pair of half-naked giggling girls scrubbed him down, Rand and Mat had looked upon his battered body in the baths. He did not explain beyond that being captured by Whitecloaks was something to be avoided.

His possessions were still meager with him down to just his big half-moon axe and the clothes on his back. His belt purse still held his piece of silver, a few coppers, and a fire starter.

He lay in his room on top of his bed in his pants, his boots off, contemplating sleep. His new shirt and mended coat hung on pegs with his cloak. His axe, a broad half-moon blade with a curved spike on the back, and leather belt were on the floor next to his bed. A small oil lamp gave the room a flickering light.

He was thinking about Egwene when he heard the soft knock on the door.

Perrin opened the latch, and she was through into the room and in his arms, Egwene. They had not had a moment alone since being rescued from the Whitecloaks. No time to talk, to cuddle, to give each other pleasure.

She was dressed in the same plain traveling dress he knew so well. As he held her, his chin resting on her dark curls she cried quietly. He held her tighter. He wondered if Lan did this for Moiraine.

As her waterworks subsided, he pulled her to his bed against the wall where they sat together holding hands.

Was it two weeks or three since they fled from the cursed city of Shadar Logoth? He didn’t know. Since that first night, there had been few where they did not share her blanket roll, laying under her cloak, touching, kissing, and fondling each other before sleep.

The few nights with the Tinkers they slept in separate wagon beds, but at the end she came to him for comfort, shedding tears. After their ordeal with the Whitecloaks, there had been no time to be close to talk about all they had been through. On the way here they rode together and slept near each other but never under her cloak again. Nynaeve had looked at them more than once but did not speak of her suspicions, just treating their physical injuries.