Fic: A Tale of Seregil and Alec
Title: A Tale of Seregil and Alec
Author: wook77
Fandom: Nightrunner by Lynn Flewelling
Pairing: Seregil/Alec
Wordcount: ~1200
Warnings: Fluff (yes, omg, it's fluffy)
Summary: Sometimes the story is that there is no story.
Author's Notes: written for yuletide 2008. Forgot to post it here. Many thanks to oconel for the beta. Set between Stalking Darkness and Traitor's Moon.
"Tell me a story, talí," Seregil asks as they lay on the bed. Alec likes the feel of Seregil's fingers on his scalp and in his hair. He never wants to get used to it; the casual intimacy of it pulls him in and grabs him every time.
"About what?" Alec curls into Seregil's warmth as the cold of the cabin sneaks in and tickles at his nose. The fire had died down hours ago, only embers and ash remain. They could put more wood on it but they're warm enough, for now, here, naked and entwined.
"About your first bow or your first hunt or your first kiss." The last is said with a smirk and a knowing tone.
"I was five," Alec says as he burrows closer to Seregil, palm resting on the bare chest. "She was a villager, I don't remember the village. She kissed me."
"And?" Seregil cards his fingers through Alec's hair, brushing out the knots and massaging the scalp. "I love your hair."
"I love you," Alec responds.
"I know you do, talí, like I love you."
They slip back into silence, comfortable and warm. These quiet moments are so very different than it had been in Rhiminee. There, things had been so hectic. Add in the journey afterwards… and Alec would much rather not think about that. Neither are ready though Alec thinks that he'll be ready sooner than Seregil. His talí takes too much responsibility for everyone around him. Perhaps it's his long life or the way he'd grown up or even how he'd affected his family with his actions.
Whatever it is, Alec knows he'll heal first. Then he'll be able to help Seregil with the pain of loss. But until then, Alec will take these quiet moments and let Seregil heal him, instead.
Alec lets his grip loosen as he slips towards sleep. The fire should be built up and he really should go hunting as they're dangerously close to the end of their supplies but he can't be bothered right now. The comfort of these quiet moments is worth the grumbling stomachs and the seeping cold.
"Tell me a story, talí," Seregil repeats.
"Isn't it your turn?" Alec asks and then presses a kiss against Seregil's chest as it rumbles with laughter.
"Fine, I can do that." Seregil pauses, the chest rises and falls as he takes a couple of deep breaths. "I was in the far, cold North. Micum and I, we were on a mission, him as his fumbling self and me as my debonair self. However, the lord didn't much care for my music and, so, he tossed me into the dungeon. I'd planned on escaping right away but, unfortunately, there was a young man there…" his voice trails off and Alec kisses his chest again.
"I think I've heard this one before."
"Then perhaps it's your turn again."
"The fire's died down." Alec presses his nose into Seregil's chest, trying to steal some of the warmth from it. The cold's pressing in further than it had even a second ago.
"Are you cold?" Alec murmurs in response and Seregil combs his fingers through Alec's hair once more. "I'm warm enough with my living blanket sprawled on top of me."
"Bastard," Alec says but there isn't any heat in the word. Grinning to himself, he pulls the blankets completely off the bed and wraps himself in them as he walks towards the fire. He has enough time to settle a log in the fireplace before he's tackled to the ground.
"That's just cruel, leaving me alone and cold like that."
"Thought you were warm enough to go without your living blanket for a bit." Alec pushes up from the floor against Seregil's weight.
"Oh, talí, I could never do without you for even a little bit." As he's not certain how to respond to that and Seregil's mouth is on his neck anyway, Alec arches in to the touch. Seregil's mouth explores the exposed bits of his back and neck, warming his skin before moving along and leaving the spot even colder as the chill hits the damp spots.
"Does this mean that you'll hunt with me the next time?"
"I don't think you'd really want that, would you?"
"Any time to spend with you." He's pulled backwards as he speaks until he's sitting in Seregil's naked lap while he's wrapped in all their blankets. "Isn't the floor cold?"
"You should share the blankets."
"Or I could build up the fire."
"Or both." Alec tries to slip out of Seregil's arms but finds himself held tightly.
"Can't do that if you don't let go."
He feels Seregil's lips on his ear as he hears, "hurry", before he's released. He lets the blankets fall as he leans forward and arranges a few more logs, getting the embers to catch on them so that heat can flow into the cabin once more. When he sits back down, it's onto Seregil's naked legs and then he's ensconced in the blanket with Seregil's chest to his back.
When they're like this, quiet and tender, Alec can forget about their losses, about Nysander and the kidnapping and the terror he'd felt. Still feels sometimes in the middle of the night. He forgets about all of it and concentrates on the way that Seregil's wrapped around him completely. He forgets all of it in lieu of breathing in and smelling only Seregil and burning wood.
In fact, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to smell a fire without smelling Seregil as well. They're entwined in his head just as much as his childhood is entwined with memories of his dad. Entwined as much as the thought of 'Seregil' immediately conjures feelings of 'love'.
"Tell me a story, talí." He hears Seregil whisper against his skin as that divine mouth continues to explore his exposed skin. Alec leans back into the touch and Seregil's mouth moves to his ear and then his neck and his collarbone.
"There's a man that makes me feel…" his voice trails off as he thinks about what to say and how to say it that doesn't make him sound his years. He wants to be more mature about this but he can't be because this is Seregil and love and happiness and… and everything.
"Yes, talí?"
"Everything," he breathes out and feels Seregil's mouth stop on his skin.
"Oh, talí," Seregil says in the same breathless tone. "You…"
There isn't anything he can say to that and it's obvious that Seregil can't either. Instead, they stand and make their way back to the bed. He lays down and Seregil lays on top of him. Their lips are scant inches away. Seregil's face is so close that Alec can feel his breath puff across his face. Their lips get even closer, so close that Alec can feel Seregil's brush with every breath but Seregil doesn't kiss him. Instead, he breathes out, "Tell me a story, talí."
Alec leans up and takes his lips. This is story enough for now.
As always, I'd love to hear what you thought.
Author: wook77
Fandom: Nightrunner by Lynn Flewelling
Pairing: Seregil/Alec
Wordcount: ~1200
Warnings: Fluff (yes, omg, it's fluffy)
Summary: Sometimes the story is that there is no story.
Author's Notes: written for yuletide 2008. Forgot to post it here. Many thanks to oconel for the beta. Set between Stalking Darkness and Traitor's Moon.
"Tell me a story, talí," Seregil asks as they lay on the bed. Alec likes the feel of Seregil's fingers on his scalp and in his hair. He never wants to get used to it; the casual intimacy of it pulls him in and grabs him every time.
"About what?" Alec curls into Seregil's warmth as the cold of the cabin sneaks in and tickles at his nose. The fire had died down hours ago, only embers and ash remain. They could put more wood on it but they're warm enough, for now, here, naked and entwined.
"About your first bow or your first hunt or your first kiss." The last is said with a smirk and a knowing tone.
"I was five," Alec says as he burrows closer to Seregil, palm resting on the bare chest. "She was a villager, I don't remember the village. She kissed me."
"And?" Seregil cards his fingers through Alec's hair, brushing out the knots and massaging the scalp. "I love your hair."
"I love you," Alec responds.
"I know you do, talí, like I love you."
They slip back into silence, comfortable and warm. These quiet moments are so very different than it had been in Rhiminee. There, things had been so hectic. Add in the journey afterwards… and Alec would much rather not think about that. Neither are ready though Alec thinks that he'll be ready sooner than Seregil. His talí takes too much responsibility for everyone around him. Perhaps it's his long life or the way he'd grown up or even how he'd affected his family with his actions.
Whatever it is, Alec knows he'll heal first. Then he'll be able to help Seregil with the pain of loss. But until then, Alec will take these quiet moments and let Seregil heal him, instead.
Alec lets his grip loosen as he slips towards sleep. The fire should be built up and he really should go hunting as they're dangerously close to the end of their supplies but he can't be bothered right now. The comfort of these quiet moments is worth the grumbling stomachs and the seeping cold.
"Tell me a story, talí," Seregil repeats.
"Isn't it your turn?" Alec asks and then presses a kiss against Seregil's chest as it rumbles with laughter.
"Fine, I can do that." Seregil pauses, the chest rises and falls as he takes a couple of deep breaths. "I was in the far, cold North. Micum and I, we were on a mission, him as his fumbling self and me as my debonair self. However, the lord didn't much care for my music and, so, he tossed me into the dungeon. I'd planned on escaping right away but, unfortunately, there was a young man there…" his voice trails off and Alec kisses his chest again.
"I think I've heard this one before."
"Then perhaps it's your turn again."
"The fire's died down." Alec presses his nose into Seregil's chest, trying to steal some of the warmth from it. The cold's pressing in further than it had even a second ago.
"Are you cold?" Alec murmurs in response and Seregil combs his fingers through Alec's hair once more. "I'm warm enough with my living blanket sprawled on top of me."
"Bastard," Alec says but there isn't any heat in the word. Grinning to himself, he pulls the blankets completely off the bed and wraps himself in them as he walks towards the fire. He has enough time to settle a log in the fireplace before he's tackled to the ground.
"That's just cruel, leaving me alone and cold like that."
"Thought you were warm enough to go without your living blanket for a bit." Alec pushes up from the floor against Seregil's weight.
"Oh, talí, I could never do without you for even a little bit." As he's not certain how to respond to that and Seregil's mouth is on his neck anyway, Alec arches in to the touch. Seregil's mouth explores the exposed bits of his back and neck, warming his skin before moving along and leaving the spot even colder as the chill hits the damp spots.
"Does this mean that you'll hunt with me the next time?"
"I don't think you'd really want that, would you?"
"Any time to spend with you." He's pulled backwards as he speaks until he's sitting in Seregil's naked lap while he's wrapped in all their blankets. "Isn't the floor cold?"
"You should share the blankets."
"Or I could build up the fire."
"Or both." Alec tries to slip out of Seregil's arms but finds himself held tightly.
"Can't do that if you don't let go."
He feels Seregil's lips on his ear as he hears, "hurry", before he's released. He lets the blankets fall as he leans forward and arranges a few more logs, getting the embers to catch on them so that heat can flow into the cabin once more. When he sits back down, it's onto Seregil's naked legs and then he's ensconced in the blanket with Seregil's chest to his back.
When they're like this, quiet and tender, Alec can forget about their losses, about Nysander and the kidnapping and the terror he'd felt. Still feels sometimes in the middle of the night. He forgets about all of it and concentrates on the way that Seregil's wrapped around him completely. He forgets all of it in lieu of breathing in and smelling only Seregil and burning wood.
In fact, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to smell a fire without smelling Seregil as well. They're entwined in his head just as much as his childhood is entwined with memories of his dad. Entwined as much as the thought of 'Seregil' immediately conjures feelings of 'love'.
"Tell me a story, talí." He hears Seregil whisper against his skin as that divine mouth continues to explore his exposed skin. Alec leans back into the touch and Seregil's mouth moves to his ear and then his neck and his collarbone.
"There's a man that makes me feel…" his voice trails off as he thinks about what to say and how to say it that doesn't make him sound his years. He wants to be more mature about this but he can't be because this is Seregil and love and happiness and… and everything.
"Yes, talí?"
"Everything," he breathes out and feels Seregil's mouth stop on his skin.
"Oh, talí," Seregil says in the same breathless tone. "You…"
There isn't anything he can say to that and it's obvious that Seregil can't either. Instead, they stand and make their way back to the bed. He lays down and Seregil lays on top of him. Their lips are scant inches away. Seregil's face is so close that Alec can feel his breath puff across his face. Their lips get even closer, so close that Alec can feel Seregil's brush with every breath but Seregil doesn't kiss him. Instead, he breathes out, "Tell me a story, talí."
Alec leans up and takes his lips. This is story enough for now.
As always, I'd love to hear what you thought.