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.alec and seregil
"Father, brother, friend, lover."
Alec and Seregil are wonderful. They should be in my top 5 OTP's but I ran out of space and they are quite obscure. The Nightrunner tales are, in a nutshell, the ultimate love story of two gay men who have the world and the whole of time to spend with each other, and throughout the novel you are left with no doubt that that's exactly what they intend to do. Right, I think I better show you the love in quotes because there's not really much else to work with when you're explaining a novel. Here's some quotes to introduce you to the lovable rogue, Seregil;
"I make it a rule never, never to use the truth unless it's the last possible option and so outlandish that nobody would believe you anyway." - Seregil
"I've seen him fight through fire, blood, starvation and magic," Micum remarked, speaking to nobody in particular, "but deny him a hot bath at the end of it and he fusses like a kept whore."
"Well, that was undoubtedly one of the most embarrassing moments of my life," Seregil groaned, bravado falling away. "It's no easy matter, facing down a big, angry sailor in nothing but a woman's nightgown."
Seregil is a con-man, a trickster, a man who lives by lies to find the truth. He's VERY easy to fall in love with as is;
"Hold on!" Alec tried to make out Seregil's expression through the darkness. "Aren't you two coming with me?"
"It's a one-man job; the fewer the better," Seregil assured him. "I thought this is what you wanted, a first trial on your own?"
"Well, I-was
"Would I send you in alone if I didn't think you could handle it?" Seregil scoffed. "Of course not! Best leave me your sword, though."
"What?" Alec hissed. "I thought I had to be armed so I could do jobs!"
"Generally speaking, yes. But not this time."
"What if someone sees me?"
"Honestly, Alec! You can't just go hacking your way out of every difficult situation that arises. It's uncivilized," Seregil replied sternly.
Alec is my favourite character in the Nightrunner series. He's a precious little thing, who grows and grows. He's opposite to Seregil in that at the beginning of the books his knowledge of life is somewhat poor and pitiful. He is untrained, thinks little of himself, has no life or sexual experience, and has never known freedom. Seregil, on the other hand, has done everything and more. He begins to train Alec as his apprentice, and soon finds his little project becomes a lot more than that. He becomes his partner.
"I don't know how many times a day I can stand to watch you almost die," Seregil gasped.
"Twice is my limit," croaked Alec, sinking to his knees.
They're the best crime buddies ever. I really love the way they work into peoples homes (and hearts!) with refined dignity. And the pompous decoy that Seregil acts when he's in public is brilliant. Very Scarlet Pimpernelish.
"You were on fire, you know! And some of your hair is gone in the back."
Alec raised a hand to the back of his head; it felt rough and his palm came away black.
"Just when we'd gotten you looking presentable, too," Seregil complained, his voice not quite steady.
The second book is my favourite, and as I can't find the third you're going to get a whole load o' quotes from this one. It basically starts with this scene near the beginning. I still haven't read anything quite as priceless as it. Seregil has to go on a mission alone, the first since meeting Alec. To show that the hospitality of his welcomers isn't missed, he has to sleep with as many of the house keepers daughters as possible, to honour them with his children. Brilliant crack, right? Thus leads to this gem;
Stretched out with two of Ekrid's daughters still twined around him the second night, Seregil stared up at the rafters and decided he'd had enough of women to last him for some time. Shifting restlessly in their musky embrace, he caught a hint of answering movement across the way where Ekrid's sons slept. One of them had made long eyes at him the evening before- He gave the possibility a moment's consideration, but resolved dourly that there was little to be gained in that direction. The young man smelled as strongly of goat tallow and old hides as his sisters, and lacked a front tooth besides. Lying back, he allowed himself a moment's longing for his own clean bed and a freshly bathed companion to share it. To his surprise, the anonymous figure swiftly transformed into Alec.
Father, brother, friend, and lover, the Oracle of Illior had told him that night in Rhiminee.
Yep, that's right. Alec and Seregil are actually prophasised (?!) to be together. Brilliant.
"You're whisked away and made love to by the most exotic woman in Rhíminee and it gives you nightmares? You are a strange creature, Alec, a very strange creature."
HA! I love this bit so much. Alec does indeed loose his virginity to a beautiful sorceresses (much to Seregil's canon displeasure!) and then has strange dreams. It's brilliant. Now bear with me. Basically the story revolves on the principle that Seregil is Aurenfaie meaning that he can live for up to 300 years. What Alec doesn't know is that he's one too!! It sounds terrible, but I swear it actually works, and well. It's all very Lord of the Ringsish. So here we have Seregil revealing Alec's identity;
"Then, that first night we came back to the Cockerel, I went out again, remember? I went to the Oracle of Illior about another matter, and during the divinations, he spoke of you, called you a 'child of earth and light' - Dalna and Illior, human and faie - there was no question what he meant. Nysander wanted me to tell you from the start but-"
At that, a wave of anger burst up through Alec. Lurching to his feet, he rounded on Seregil, crying out, "Why didn't you? All these months and you never said anything! It's like that Wheel Street trick all over again!"
Seregil's face was half black, half bone pale in the moonlight, but both eyes glittered. "It's nothing like Wheel Street!"
"Oh, no?" Alec shouted. "Then what, damn it! Why? Why didn't you tell me?"
Seregil seemed to sag. Lowering his face, he rested both hands on his knees. After a moment he let out a ragged breath. "There's no single answer. At first, because I wasn't certain." He
shook his head. "No, that's not true. In my heart I was certain, but I didn't dare believe it."
"Why not?"
"Because if I was wrong-" Seregil spread his hands helplessly. "It doesn't matter. I'd been alone for a long time and I thought I liked it that way. I knew if I was right, and if I told you then, if you'd even believed me, then it might create a bond, a tie. I wasn't willing to risk that either, not until I figured out who you were. Illior's Hands, Alec, you don't know, you can't know, what it was like-"
"Enlighten me!" Alec growled.
[...] "Loneliness is a curse, Alec, and being an outsider. I don't have a clue why the two of us ended up in the same dungeon cell that night, but I've thanked Illior every day since we did. The greatest fear I've had is losing you. The second greatest is that when I finally did tell you the truth, you'd think it was the only reason I'd taken you on in the first place. That isn't so, you know. It never was, not even in the beginning."
Seregil is also a bard, when he's not stealing and crime-fighting. When Alec first hears some of his work properly, it's in a nice establishment in uh... the red-light district. Only, it's green. They have green lanterns to represent medieval gay bars. I told you this book was good.
"Yellow as gold, the hair on your pillow,
Green as cold emeralds, your eyes. Dear as the
moon, the cost of your favors, But priceless, the
sound of your sighs.
But poor Alec doesn't see the green lantern until it's too late, thus leading to a highly amusing scene in which he finds himself all alone in an all male brothel.
Seregil's eyes widened in genuine amazement as he caught sight of Alec framed in the salon entrance, amazement followed at once by a bittersweet pang of something deeper than mere surprise. The boy had obviously stumbled into Azarin's house by mistake comthe tense lines around his mouth and faint, betraying color in his cheeks attested as much. I'd better go rescue him, he thought, yet he remained where he was, letting the scene play on a bit longer. A quick glance around the room confirmed that Alec was attracting the notice of other patrons, as well. And no wonder, Seregil thought with a stab of something dangerously close to possessiveness.
For a moment he allowed himself to see Alec through the eyes of the others: a slim, somberly dressed youth whose heavy, honey-dark hair framed a finely featured face and the bluest eyes this" side of a summer evening sky. He stood like a half-wild thing, poised for flight, yet his manner toward the young prostitute was almost courtly. Tirien leaned closer to Alec and the boy's mask of composure slipped a bit, betraying-what? Alarm, certainly, but hadn't there been just a hint of indecision? This time Seregil couldn't deny the hot flash of jealousy that shot through him. Thoroughly annoyed with himself, he began disentangling himself from Wythrin.
Seregil goes off to find Alec a female companion for the night, in a show of suppressed feelings, but then ironically needs Alec for a job and bursts in on them in post-coiltal bliss. Ha! Poor Alec, having a jealous Seregil stealing him away from pretty girls. I'd prefer the pretty Seregil myself but whatever.
"Seregil, that hurts."
Alec's soft, tense voice brought him back and he found himself clutching the boy's shoulder. He hurriedly released him and sat back. Alec closed cold fingers over his own. "What is it? You look like you've just seen your own ghost." [...]
"I can't tell you, tali, because I'd only have to lie," he said, suddenly dejected. [...]
Alec got up to go without a word. But he paused in the doorway, looking back at Seregil still sitting by the fire.
"What does tali mean? Is it Aurenfaie?"
"Tali?"
A ghost of the old grin tugged at one corner of Seregil's mouth. "Yes, it's an Aurenfaie term of endearment, rather old-fashioned, like beloved. Where'd you pick that up?"
"I thought-was Alec regarded him quizzically, then shook his head. "I don't know, at one of the salons, probably. Sleep well, Seregil."
"You, too."
Tali is the most affectionate saying I can possibly think of. I'm so bringing it into fashion. Just so you know.
"I'll be all right. And I'm not shutting you out of anything, either."
Despite the patch, tangled hair, and ridiculous old hat that partially obscured his friend's features, Alec heard the warm earnestness in his voice clearly enough.
"I know," he sighed. "You missed a spot."
Reaching over, Alec smeared ashes over a bit of clean skin just under Seregil's right cheekbone. His friend's one visible eye widened noticeably. Strange feelings stirred again, and Alec felt himself blush.
Seregil held his gaze a moment, then cleared his throat gruffly. "Thanks. We don't want any telltale signs of cleanliness giving me away, do we? I'll take a run through the stable dung heap before I go, just to make sure I've got the right odor about me. Take care."
"You, too." Alec felt another twinge of unease as Seregil headed out the door. "Luck in the shadows, Seregil," he called after him.
Seregil looked back with a crooked grin. "And to you."
Eeep! I love this moment. The books are full of little things like this, casual brushes, smiles, comments. They all work together to weave a tale of pure love. It's adorable.
As he stooped to inspect the mess more closely, something in the shadows beneath the workbench caught his eye, stopping his breath in his throat. Alec's sword. He dragged it out and examined it closely. Dark stains along its edge showed that Alec had put up a fight before losing it. Gripping it by the hilt, Seregil was surprised by a brief, irrational burst of anger.
I told him to stay at Watermead!
The door to his bedroom was shut, but bloody footprints led inside. Taking a jar of lightstones from a nearby shelf, he kicked the door open and tossed them in. [...] Nothing appeared to have been disturbed here except the green velvet curtains of his bed. He never used them, but someone had pulled them shut all around the bed. Someone who'd left the bloody foot marks on the carpet. Seregil's breath sounded loud in his ears as he forced himself across the room, knowing already whose body he'd find when he pulled the hanging aside.
"No," he said hoarsely, unaware that he was speaking aloud. "No no no please no-"
Gritting his teeth, he flung the curtain aside. There was nothing on the bed but a dagger - a dagger with a hank of long yellow hair knotted around the hilt. Seregil picked it up with shaking hands, recognizing the black horn grip inlaid with silver; it was the knife he'd given Alec in Wolde. For one blinding second he seemed to feel Alec's thumb on his face again, reaching to smudge over the clean spot on his cheek.
"Where is he?" Seregil hissed. Grabbing up his sword, he rushed out into the sitting room again. "You bastards! What have you done with him?"
And Seregil's continual need to protect Alec is highly tested in the second book when Alec comes home early from a trip away to surprise Seregil, only to be kidnapped. Poor Alec finds himself in the company of the attractive but evil Mardus, and the hideous Aslagilagi or whatever the necromancer's name is.
He was awakened by someone whispering his name. A dark figure stood next to the cart, beckoning him to the bars. Alec crouched warily. "What do you want?"
"Alec, it's me," the man replied softly. He pushed his hood back and the moonlight struck his face.
"Seregil!" Alec managed a choked whisper. Scrambling over, he thrust his hand out to his friend. Seregil clasped it and pressed it to his lips. He was real, solid, warm. Alec clung to him, heedless of the tears of relief rolling down his own cheeks. "I never thought- How did you find us?"
Reaching through the bars, Seregil cupped Alec's face in his hands. "No time to explain, tali. I've got to get you out of there." Releasing Alec reluctantly, he went to the back of the cart to examine the lock. [...] Alec's heart hammered in his chest as he watched Seregil inspect the lock. It was torture, being this close but still separated.
"Ah, here's something-" Seregil began, but just then torchlight flared behind him.
"Seregil, look out!" [...]
"How clever of you to have found us," the necromancer gloated. "I much appreciate your effort. And your boy played his part very convincingly, no?"
Seregil shot Alec a startled look. It was the cruelest blow yet, that accusing look. It froze Alec's throat, so that he could only shake his head imploringly. Seregil drew his sword and sprang from the wagon, away from Ashnazai's men. But others were waiting for him in the shadows. Flinging himself against the bars, Alec watched with horror as Seregil fought for his life. He ran a guard through and slashed another across the neck before the others leapt at him from behind, knocking him to the ground and pinning him. [...]
"I didn't help him, I swear," Alec whispered hoarsely. "Oh, Seregil, I-"
"It doesn't matter much-now," Seregil growled, turning his face away.
"Not in the least," Ashnazai agreed, climbing into the cart behind him with Seregil's sword in his hand. "It's a pity you were cut, but then I'd hardly dare chance putting the two of you together again." He grabbed Seregil by the hair, pulling his head back. "Who knows what mischief you'd make, eh?"
Stepping back, he placed the point of the sword against the small of Seregil's back and pushed slowly, twisting the blade. [...] Seregil let out a harsh scream and sank to his knees. Struggling free, Alec caught at him, trying to hold him through the bars. [...] Alec wanted to speak, but no words would come. Seregil looked at him, his wide grey eyes full of sorrow and recrimination. [...] With a final spasm, he went limp, eyes open and vacant. Sobbing, Alec clung to his friend's body until the soldiers cut it loose from the bars and dragged it from his grasp. [...]
Seregil had fallen.
Seregil is dead. [...]
His grief was too deep for tears. It was so vast that it blotted out everything else. He couldn't eat or sleep or take in his surroundings. Hunched in a corner of the cage, he clasped his hands around his knees and rested his head on them, shutting out the world.
So Alec thinks Seregil's dead. Seregil thinks Alec is dead, until he realises that he's not. It's all rather confusing. But makes for a lovely reunion.
"I'll find him," Seregil sighed aloud, resting his head in his hands. "He's here and I'll find him."
The gull regarded him with one skeptical yellow eye, then flapped off with a derisive jeer. Turning his head to watch it, Seregil froze in disbelief. A wan, battered spector stood looking down at him from a shelf of rock not twenty feet away.
"Alec!"
Thin, bruised, and naked, Alec swayed visibly as the wind buffeted him. Despite his obvious exhaustion, however, he was poised for flight.
"Alec, it's me," Seregil said more gently, watching hope and fear warring in those dark, narrowed eyes. What had put such deep distrust there?
"What's wrong, tali?"
"What are you doing here?" Alec croaked, and the wariness in his voice went through Seregil like a knife.
"Looking for you. [...]"
Alec shivered miserably as the wind whipped his hair across his pale face. "How do I know it's you?" he mumbled faintly.
"What are you talking about?" Seregil asked in growing confusion. "What did they do to you, to? It's me! I'm coming up to you now, all right? Don't be afraid."
To his amazement, Alec turned and fled. Scrambling up the rocks, Seregil dashed after him and caught him in his arms, holding Alec tightly as he struggled.
"Easy, now! What's wrong?" He could feel Alec's heart hammering beneath his ribs. Panting, Alec twisted around and gripped the side of Seregil's face in one hand. Fighting back his own sudden fear, Seregil loosened his hold. Alec gingerly touched his hair, shoulders, and arms, his expression almost feral in its intensity and distrust. After a moment, however, the look disappeared, replaced by the most wondrous look of relief Seregil had ever seen.
"O Illior, it is you. You're alive," Alec gasped, tears welling in his eyes. "That bastard! I should have guessed, but the blood, your voice, everything- But you're alive!" Shuddering, he grabbed Seregil in a fierce embrace.
"Last time I looked," Seregil rasped, his throat tight with emotion as he hugged Alec to him. The boy was trembling badly now. Releasing him just long enough to get his cloak off and swing it around Alec's bare shoulders, Seregil helped him down in the lee of a large rock and held him close as the boy trembled and wept.
"I thought you were dead," Alec exclaimed hoarsely, still clinging to Seregil as if terrified that he'd disappear. "It was Vargul Ashnazai. He made me think you'd come to rescue me, and he
killed-was Alec let out a harsh sound between a sob and a laugh. "But I killed the son of a whore!"
The story that spilled from him was broken and confused, but Seregil was able to piece enough together to begin to guess what kind of torture Alec had been subjected to. Tears of helpless rage stung behind his own eyes as he stroked Alec's hair, murmuring softly to him in Aurenfaie. Coming to the end of his tale, Alec rested his head wearily on Seregil's shoulder and drew another shuddering breath.
"The worst of it- When Ashnazai killed you, tricked me into thinking he had-he said things-" Alec squeezed his eyes shut. "I thought you died believing I'd betrayed you."
Seregil stroked a strand of hair back from Alec's forehead and kissed him there.
"It's all right, tali. If it had really been me, I wouldn't have believed him. I know you too well for that."
"And I never told you-" Alec's pale face flushed crimson. "I don't understand it, but I-"
He faltered and Seregil pulled him closer.
"I know, tali. I know."
It was Alec who brought their lips together.
Seregil's first reaction was disbelief. But Alec was insistent, clumsy but determined. It lasted an instant, an eternity, that one awkward kiss, and it spoke silent volumes of bewildered honesty. The moment that followed was too fragile for words.
He's exhausted, confused. He's been tortured past the point of endurance, Seregil warned himself, but for once, the doubts refused to take root. Father, brother, friend.
Lover.
He closed his eyes, knowing that whatever grew up between them, it would be enough.
Of course, this is fiction. Things never go quite the way you want (not that real life does either.) Seregil ends up having to kill his father-figure, Nysander. This leads to a lovely angsty chapter where-in Alec is in love with him and he doesn't want to know. Oh boys. This whole seen gave me Brian and Justin vibes, by the by. Seregil is such a Brian sometimes.
A warm night breeze sighed in through the open window. The sound of it seemed to echo Seregil's inner loneliness. It was ironic, really. The first time he and Alec had stayed in this room, Alec had kept stiffly to his side of the bed; these past weeks Seregil often woke to find him lying close beside him, as he was now. Alec had thrown one arm across Seregil's chest, his breath soft against his bare shoulder.
Why can't I feel anything?
Lying there in the moonlight, Seregil stroked Alec's fair hair and summoned the memory of the kiss they'd shared that day in Plenimar. Even that had been sucked pale and flat. Since Nysander's death all his emotions seemed to have fled to a distance, felt dimly, as if through a pane of thick glass. It was too late now, too late for anything. He was too empty. Covering Alec's hand with his own, he watched the stars wheel toward morning. [...] An hour before dawn, he slipped out of bed and pulled on his clothes. Throwing his old pack over one shoulder, he took a small bundle from its hiding place behind the wardrobe, then closed the shutters to keep out the morning light. Alec mustn't waken until he was well away from here. [...] Leaving Alec was even harder than he'd feared. Against all better judgment, he went back to the open doorway of the room they'd shared so chastely, knowing full well that if Alec so much as opened an eye, he was lost. Alec lay curled on his side now, blond hair tumbled over the pillow. A dull ache gripped Sergil's heart; all the nights he'd been lulled by that soft breathing, all the things that might have been, seemed to come together at once in a tight knot at the base of his throat.
If only Nysander hadn 't-
Seregil placed a thick roll of parchments on the doorsill: the letter, too painful to be anything but brief; documents making Alec of Ivywell heir to all Lord Seregil's holdings in the city; the lists of names and secrets and money holders. It was all there, carefully set down. When Alec sorted them out he'd discover that even minus what Seregil had deeded to Micum and a few others, he would be one of the wealthiest young men in Skala.
Good-bye, tali.
Um... and here's where I quote the whole book. Because it's just that lovely. It's a good job I haven't got the third book on me. You'd be quoted to death. This is the wonderful ending of book two, and the brilliant start of a relationship that's sure to win it's way into the hardest slashers heart.
Seregil was gone. Alec slid his hand over the sheets where Seregil had slept. They were cold. [...] Scrambling out of bed, Alec hauled on breeches and a shirt and headed for the door. His bare foot struck something as he crossed the threshold. It was a thick roll of parchments bound with plain string. Untying it, he quickly scanned the familiar flowing script covering the first page.
"Alec tali, Remember me kindly and try-"
"Damn!" Pages scattered in all directions as Alec ran for the stables. [...] Kicking Patch into a gallop, he rode down the hill and across the bridge, reining in where the two roads met to see which way Seregil had gone. [...] When the clearing around the pond came into view ahead, he was both relieved and surprised to see Seregil there, sitting motionless in the saddle as if admiring the morning. Alec's first reaction to Seregil's letter had been only the desperate desire to find him. He realized now that there had also been a generous leaven of anger mixed in. When Seregil raised his head now, looking back at him with an expression of startled wariness, the anger took over. It was the look you'd give an enemy.
Or a stranger.
"Wait-" Seregil called, but Alec ignored him. Digging his heels into Patch's sides, he charged Seregil, bearing down on him before he could turn his own horse out of the way. The animals collided and Cynril reared, throwing Seregil off into the water. Alec leapt down and waded in after him. Grabbing Seregil by the front of his tunic, he hauled him to his knees and shook the crumpled note in his face.
"What's this supposed to be?" he yelled. "'All I have in Rhiminee is yours now"? What is this?"
Seregil struggled to his feet and pulled free, not meeting Alec's eye. "After everything that's happened-" He paused, took a deep breath. "After all that, I decided it would be better for everyone if I just went away."
"You decided. You decided?" Furious, Alec grabbed Seregil with both hands and shook him. The wrinkled parchment drifted across the pool, hung a moment against a stone, and spun away unnoticed down the stream. "I followed you over half the earth to Rhiminee for no other reason than you asked me to! I saved your damn life twice before we even got there and how many times since? I stood with you against Mardus and all the rest. But now, after moping around all summer, you decide you're better off without me?"
Color flared in Seregil's gaunt face. [...] (Alec) paused as another thought dawned on him.
"When are you going to forgive Nysander?"
Seregil glared at him wordlessly, then pushed Alec's hands away. Sloshing up to the bank, he sank down on a log overlooking the pond. Alec followed, settling on a rock beside him. Seregil hung his head and let out an unsteady breath. After a moment he said, "He knew. He should have told me."
"You would have tried to stop him."
"Damn right I would have!" Seregil flared, clenching his fists on his knees. Angry tears spilled down his cheeks, the first Alec had ever seen him shed.
"If you'd done that, we'd have failed,. [...] I think he must be grateful to you."
Seregil covered his face, giving way at last to silent sobs.
Alec wrapped an arm around him, holding him tightly. [...] "I'm not letting you go," he said again, gripping Seregil's sleeve for emphasis.
Seregil shook his head miserably. "I can't stay here."
"All right, but you're not leaving me."
"I thought you'd be happy at Watermead."
"I love everyone there like my own family, but not-"
Alec broke off, feeling his face go warm.
"But not what?" Seregil turned and brushed a clump of damp hair back from Alec's face, studying his expression. Alec forced himself to meet Seregil's questioning gaze squarely.
"Not as much as I love you."
Seregil looked at him for a moment, grey eyes still sad. "I love you, too. More than I've loved anyone for a long time. But you're so young and-" He spread his hands and sighed. "It just didn't seem right."
"I'm not that young," Alec countered wryly, thinking of all they'd been through together. [...] Seregil looked out over the pond again.
"Father, brother, friend, and lover."
"What?" A coldness passed over Alec's heart; Mardus had spoken almost those same words when asking about his relationship to Seregil.
"Something else the Oracle of Illior said that night I asked about you," Seregil answered, watching an otter slip into the water. "I kept thinking I had it all sorted out and settled, but I don't. I've been the first three to you and swore that was enough, but if you stay on with me-"
"I know."
Catching Seregil off guard, Alec leaned forward and pressed his lips to Seregil's with the same mix of awkwardness and determination he'd felt the first time. But when he felt Seregil's arms slip around him in a welcoming embrace, the confusion that had haunted him through the winter cleared like fog before a changing wind.
Take what the gods send, Seregil had told him more than once.
He would, and thankfully.
Seregil drew back a little, and there was something like wonder in his grey eyes as he touched Alec's cheek. "Anything we do, tali, we do with honor. Before all else, I'm your friend and
always will be, even if you take a hundred wives or lovers later on."
Alec started to protest but Seregil smiled and pressed a finger across his lips. "As long as I have a place in your heart, I'm satisfied."
"You always have to have the last word, don't you?" Alec growled, then kissed him again. The feel of Seregil's lean body pressing against his own suddenly felt as natural and easy as one stream flowing into another. His last remaining worry was that he had very little idea about how to proceed from here.
Lies, all lies. The next book starts with a description on everywhere they'd made love. Anyway, yep. Alec and Seregil. I love 'em. So should you. And Steb and Mirn too. But I'll leave that for another day.