thespherelogs | There may be murder tonight

Alec didn't hear that tone often. Their spats seldom reached anything remotely resembling a boiling point; Alec was too good-natured and Seregil could usually admit when he'd taken things a step too far. But that edge to Seregil's voice meant trouble, and so soon after their return to the pod, Alec had trouble grappling exactly what he meant, at first.

He landed on it quickly enough. What else could Seregil be talking about? Not many facets of their conversation with Jagger were particularly jarring, but Alec's interesting choice of explanation... He supposed that could trigger some alarm.

Alec sighed as he shrugged out of his coat, mentally bracing for the barrage.

"I thought you didn't want to know about our future, talí."

Which was entirely the wrong thing to say, but Alec had warned Seregil. He wouldn't lie to the man, not even if Seregil wanted him to.

The comment was met with narrowed eyes. Alec already knew how contrary Seregil could be, and if he truly were from the future, then that fact should have been drilled into his memory by now.

To blindside him with something like this in front of a stranger - Alec was lucky he didn't slap him. Now was hardly the time for Alec to bring up things he'd said in the past, pertinent or not.

"I do when it makes your first comparisons to something be people dying." For a moment, he threw up his hands, turning not to face the other man. "Bilary's balls Alec, I can't take that sort of a shock." His voice drops slightly, worry trying to hide in it, "Especially if it's you."

"That isn't fair, Seregil."

Alec's tone wasn't harsh, but it was firm. Reasonable, even in the face of Seregil's irritation. Because it wasn't fair, and Seregil couldn't expect Alec to inherently know what was and wasn't appropriate to speak of, in the midst of his other arbitrary rules about their lives together now.

"I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier," Alec said, and rested his hands on Seregil's shoulders, willing the man to look at him. "But you can't pick and choose what I'm supposed to tell you. I told you before, if you ask questions, I'll answer them honestly. But it's not fair to be angry with me, when you asked me to keep things from you in the first place."

Alec dropped his hands again, and something like disappoinment flashed across his face. He was so poor at schooling his features around Seregil.

"Besides, don't you believe I'm different somehow? So you have nothing to worry about."

"You damn well know that sort of thinking wouldn't last very long." The words are almost a hiss. Unfair as Alec thought he was being, the other man should know him well enough to know that logic would win out in the end. Irrational as he might be; he couldn't deny his instinct. He began to pace.

"You've made it clear that you know damn near everything about me and I know next to nothing about you." He paused, turning to glare in Alec's direction. "Do you have any idea how unnerving that is? You know things I haven't told Micum, hell; you know things I've never even told Nysander."

The pacing continued as he kept going. He wasn't sure when the last time he'd been so mad had been. The boiling was worse than when he'd been at Nysander's hearth with the man refusing to tell him about the marking the disk had burned into his chest. It was his whole life standing in front of him in the form of a blonde haired blue eyed man who knew every dark crevice of his past and future and didn't seem to understand just how terrifying the prospect of it was. "And yet, you expect me to come to terms with it in less than a week." There's another pause as he looks at him again, grey eyes holding something more like hidden fear than anger, but only for a moment. "And then you tell me there's a possibility that you've died. That's unfair."

"Of course I don't expect you to have come to terms with it," Alec said gently. "Have I demanded anything of you? Seregil, I would have taken my own pod here, if you'd given me any idea that it made you uncomfortable."

Which was still like a knife to his gut, and this was only confirmation. He made Seregil uncomfortable, and rightfully so, but it wasn't productive to pretend nothing was wrong, or that they could carry on with the scales so heavily tipped. But Seregil said he didn't want to know, and Alec thought he was being respectful of that. Seregil had always been mercurial; he should have anticipated the reverse side of it.

If only he'd realize, sometimes ignorance was kinder.

"It's not just a possibility. I died. And then I came back."

Alec looked momentarily lost, lips parted on the edge of further explanation, which expressed only as a sigh. He offered his hand to Seregil, and nodded toward the couch.

"Come on. Sit with me, and I'll tell you how it happened, if you really want to know."

"I don't want you to take your own pod." The words came out like a snap, said almost instantly after Alec made the suggestion. He didn't want that, the greatest part of him was horrified at the thought of being separated from the other man.

When Alec told him that he'd died, no if, no almost, that he'd actually died, it felt like all the air had come out of him and he practically crumpled to the ground, both hands digging through his hair. "Tell me."

Edited 2019-02-14 04:36 (UTC)

Seregil didn't take his hand, and so Alec let his own fall to his side as he sat beside the man. There was no explanation of this that wouldn't raise a million more questions in Seregil's mind. So he supposed the best strategy was to simply explain what happened, and handle other questions as they rose. But Alec's eyes were distant from the moment he began speaking, and his recollection was so clinical -- so detached -- it was if it happened to someone else entirely.

"We were kidnapped, on our way to Bokthersa. Plenimarans. We were separated, and they took us to a slave market. We were sold to a necromancer named Yhakobin." Alec had to pause and swallow hard because simply the man's name seemed to raise bile into his throat.

"We didn't know we were both bought by him. He kept us apart and secret from each other. We didn't even know we were in the same manor until much later. I knew you were still alive, I could still feel you, I just didn't know where. And he--

"You know that I'm half Hazadrielfaie. Apparently, the reason they sequestered themselves was because of how the necromancers use us. They call our blood the White Road. They use it to create these... these things. Creatures, called rhekaro, these beings of staggering power. By the Four, Seregil; I can barely put words to the things they can do. They're like nightmares.

"So Yhakobin took time 'purifying' me, trying to remove the tir from me. He had a man helping him, another slave, bringing me food and remedies, taking me for walks, acting like my friend. Helping to gather the things Yhakobin needed from me. I learned from you later that his name was Ilar, and you... You were to be his pet. His reward, for assisting Yhakobin. He tried to kiss me, and I pushed him away, but you were watching the whole thing. Every day when we walked through the gardens, you watched.

"But the necromancer got what he wanted, in a way. The creature was made, but he came out... Wrong. Weak. Yhakobin thought it was because I wasn't purified enough, and he set to make another one, but we escaped. You and I, together with the creature, who I called Sebrahn. Yhakobin sent his men after us, and Sebrahn...slaughtered them, but not before they put an arrow in my chest. And then he brought me back. With his tears.

And believe me, I know how utterly ludicrous this sounds..."

Seregil listened, eyes moving over the detached look on Alec's face. He'd never seen the man like this, and as the story came out, he understood why. Being separated from the other man had quickly become a horrifying thought to Seregil, what must it be like to have that happen when there was that bond? He didn't want ever to know that - and yet something in his heart knew that he would.

What followed was worse. He tried not to imagine what Yhakobin had been done to Alec, but he'd heard the stories of the Plenimaran marines just as everyone else had. It was practically unimaginable what a necromancer might do to get hold of what he wanted.

When Alec mentioned Ilar's name though, Seregil bit his lip on instinct, hot iron seeping from the cut into his mouth as the rage boiled to the surface. He said he'd listen, but by the light, it was hard when he now knew that bastard was alive. That he had sold him out all over again, and worst of all, had done the same to Alec.

There was only one question he needed to ask when the story was done. One question that came out as a guttural grown of pure anger and hatred. He didn't have to hide it if Alec was already aware of the man, aware of his sins and his betrayal. He had to know just how deep Seregil's hate ran. "What happened to Ilar?"

Edited 2019-02-14 05:29 (UTC)

"He sacrificed himself, so that we could escape."

Alec spoke so quietly. To this day, he wasn't quite sure how to feel about any of that, and so was trying to measure his response. Tempered, because that's all he could think to do. He doubted Seregil could understand until he'd lived through it. All he could feel for Ilar at this point was hatred, and Alec couldn't begrudge him that loathing. But Alec...

Well. He was grateful to Ilar, if only because they came out of Plenimar alive and safe. And he'd been kind to Alec, in his own way. That was worth something, even if Seregil couldn't see it that way.

"In the end, it was Ulan í Sathil who was brought to justice for handling us over to the Plenimarans. Bastard must have leapt at the opportunity."

Edited 2019-02-15 00:40 (UTC)

The mix of emotions at Alec's confession was instant. Ilar had taken so much; his family, his future and his innocence, there should be nothing but hate for a man like that. On top of that, he'd kept him as a pet and tried to use his feelings for Alec against him, wanted to punish him with those feelings. For that, the hatred he felt would never go away. But according to Alec, he'd also helped them to escape. He was dead, causing a hole to appear where all that hatred lay in his chest.

He'd never get the chance to get revenge for everything Ilar took from him, and he'd always have to be thankful, in a way, for saving their lives. It seemed that was the final punishment of Seregil í Korit Solun Meringil Bôkthersa; impotence for being able to truly hate the one who destroyed his life and the forcing of him to be thankful to that same man for saving the man he held most dear in his heart.

His fingers dug deep into the fists that had now come, moon shaped indents threatened to cause cuts in his palms, but he needed to push on, to keep himself from dwelling on Ilar, to go back to the most crucial part of all this, to come back to Alec.

"Show me." He meant the scar, of course, he needed to see it, not for evidence of it had happened, but because he needed to see that it healed, that there wasn't an arrow wound through the other man's heart that had killed him and kept him dead.

Alec knew better than to argue with Seregil in such a state. Because arguably, he shouldn't be taking his clothes off in front of Seregil. He'd maintained a respectful distance with good reason. But this was no paltry demand, nothing shallow or ulterior about Seregil's curiosity. There was no shame in indulging him, even at the risk of breaking Alec's heart.

Drawing a slow breath, Alec shifted onto his knees, and peeled his shirt over his head. He'd always been a wiry thing, but the years had filled him out, and the muscle tone might have been distracting in any other circumstance. Alec didn't need to look down to find the scars; he'd run his fingers over them time and again, sometimes in idle thought, too often losing himself to the memory and the realization of how close he'd come. It was jarring to consider, though they looked so benign. But he tilted his chin up, and lifted a hand to point to a thin white scar near his breastbone.

"This one was likely the killing blow, but this--" He paused, and gestured up further, to another just below his throat. "I think this one was first. I remember it knocking the wind out of me, but then I couldn't get my breath back."

Alec squeezed his eyes shut, and swallowed hard against the knot in his throat. "But you kissed me like it was the last time you ever would. And when I saw the arrows coming down on you, I moved without thinking."

There was a moment as Alec removed his shirt that Seregil felt his breath catch in his throat. Attractive as he was in the time Seregil knew him now he'd filled out to be a breathtakingly beautiful man - but that wasn't why Seregil was having trouble breathing.

It was the scars.

When they'd met, Alec had been mostly clean of them. Now, after years of being by Seregil's side, there were so many. Had he marred the man that much, carved into him that deeply that he'd caused so much damage to him physically?

Moving closer, he carefully ran his fingers over the other man's scarred body. Not only the ones that had taken his life, all of them. "I should have never told you to come with me when we were on the Downs." His words were quiet but held a deep regret and guilt. "You would have been better off, talí."

Alec caught Seregil's wrist sharply. "Don't say that."

Seregil needed to look at him. He needed to see what was in Alec's eyes when he spoke next, because half the meaning of it lay in his gaze. There was no regret, no uncertainty; just the same gentleness and quiet strength Seregil had found in him from the very start. Alec brought his other hand beneath Seregil's jaw, fingers tangling in his hair as he coaxed the man to look at him.

"I would not have been better off. The Lightbearer brought us together, and you followed her beckon. And I chose you, Seregil. I chose you and I would choose you again, as many times as it took. You're my reason and--"

Alec faltered, drawing a tremulous breath as he pressed his forehead to Seregil's.

"By the Light, Seregil. I love you. And I would never take that back, not for anything."

Seregil let his eyes drift closed as he allowed the words to wash over him. Alec's love didn't absolve his guilt; perhaps it made it worse. Seregil would create so much pain in Alec's life, so much suffering, yet the man was happy to have it for the love of him. It was almost perverse in a way, and even more perverse was how relieved Seregil was for it. He loved Alec, knew it as positively as he knew the stars in the sky or the names of his sisters, but to hear the other man say it, it squeezed his heart in terrible and wonderful ways. He was loved back, but what had been the price to Alec for that love?

His free hand moved to cover Alec's chest, heart and scar and all. He could feel the other man's heart through his hand and resisted the urge to press his lips against the sound of it. "Anyone with half a sense of self-preservation would have run a long time ago." he would have run, and yet every time, Alec had stayed. Through everything and apparently, infinitely more.

Alec grinned, rubbing his forehead gently against Seregil's as he shook his head. Self-preservation. Either Alec didn't have it, or he was too damned loyal for his own good. Hadn't everyone said as much when he dragged Seregil's cursed hide all the way to Rhiminee? Perhaps not in so many words. But there was nothing else for it, in Alec's mind. At Seregil's side was simply where he was supposed to be.

"I'd like to think of it as dedication, thanks." Alec squeezed Seregil's shoulder as he leaned away again. "And I know you'd do the same for me. We're meant to be with each other, tali. Please don't ever doubt that."

As Alec pulled back, Seregil did his best to hide the wanting in his eyes. He wanted to kiss the other man so much that it had become a physical action not to; his hand remained resting against his heart.

Now wasn't the time, the conversation or anything else. Here wasn't the place to be declaring feelings or taking the other man in his arms. No matter the amount of want for it. Still, he didn't move.

"I'm a mess you know." Alec already knew so there was no use in hiding it. There was also a disgusting sense of freedom, admitting it to someone at last. "And I'll ruin you for anything decent." Even as he said it a small, sardonic smile crossed his lips. There were depths of self-deprecation that not even Nysander could clear, not even Adzriel, as kind and comforting would be able to clear it away.

"You won't believe this, but the moment you first touched me, I got a distinct impression that decency was overrated."

That was saying quite a lot, considering the man's strict Dalnan upbringing. He certainly wouldn't be gallivanting naked around game houses anytime soon, but he'd grown significantly less bashful with Seregil as a partner. It was an unfortunate necessity, but not one that Alec particularly minded. All the many and varied things they'd done to each other? One had to shed a certain manner of modesty to achieve them.

Alec knew Seregil was utterly adept at tearing himself down. Normally, he would silence the man's self-pity with a kiss, or occasionally a more practiced hand to take him away from his thoughts. It took no end of restraint to keep himself from coaxing Seregil down that path.

"I'm here, tali. And I cherish every moment we've had together. Please don't think I'd be better off without you; you're the best person I've ever known, and your love is the best thing I've ever had."

"Before we met you were a recluse living in the woods." It wasn't a jab, merely an observation that Alec hadn't precisely known many people before they'd met, and Seregil hadn't introduced him to a high class of people since. Besides, he knew Alec was cutting Nysander and everyone at Watermede and the Cockerel short.

There was a tugging at the back of his brain though, a voice pointing out that Alec truly did love him, that there wasn't anything for it but to admit his own feelings and accept it. Take what the Lightbearer gives you, and be greatful it was something he'd tried to always live by in his exile, and something he'd often told Alec even in the brief time he'd known him. Yet now he was going against that rule, pushing the man he loved away instead of embracing him. And he couldn't say it was because of Alec's knowledge of his past and future. Of all the people he knew, Alec would have been the one to learn it all, as friend or lover, he knew, in the end, he would tell Alec everything. "If we do this, we do it with honor." He said finally. There was a firmness in his words. No matter what happened, there would always be honor between them. He refused to lose Alec over desire. "I'm your friend first, no matter how many lovers you may have in the future." He was sure he would. The 'Faie lived long lives, there would of course be others for Alec, even if there would never be another for him.

Alec heard those words before, long ago, when he'd practically beat Seregil for trying to slink off in the dead of morning. They'd left as bad a taste in his mouth then as they did not. It's like he was resigning himself to a life with Alec, and the boy Alec was back then hadn't seen it for what it was. A love like theirs should never have felt like a prison sentence. Seregil should never have come into it feeling that he had no other choice.

If fear was bringing Seregil to this conclusion, if he were coming into it with any reservations... That's not how Alec wanted Seregil to love him.

"Don't think I'm giving you the last word in this," Alec said gently. "I know you'll never do wrong by me, and I can promise you the same. We'll always be friends and partners first. But if there's any doubt in your mind about what we are to each other, I want you to understand that nothing will take me away from you. Even if you're not ready for this now, even if you're never ready for this, I'll remain at your side.

"Come to me because you want me. Be my lover because it feels right, not because you're afraid to lose me."

"I am afraid to lose you." He let his hand fall away to rest in his lap, eyes on the spot where his hands now sat. It was a simple fact of his history, his sin, and his strong emotions. Seregil was afraid to lose everyone he held dear, again, and he always would be. "I'm terrified of it; that doesn't mean I'd degrade you by becoming your lover to prevent it."

Shaking his head he looked up, resting a hand against Alec's cheek. "I love you, and that won't ever change, it's why I never planned to tell you my feelings." He pressed his lips together, still tasting the iron from his blood. "And I want you, talí, more than anyone I've ever known; never doubt that." The fact that Alec had to doubt that he did was baffling to him.

Alec smiled faintly, and reached up to lace his fingers with Seregil's. It was comforting to hear that, at least. Even if Alec wasn't entirely sure he believed it, he at least believed that Seregil was no longer in the state of denial he'd been before.

"I'm glad. But I'll leave it to you to set the pace. I don't expect anything. So whatever you're comfortable with, whenever you are; you're the one to decide. Are you alright with that?"

The implication being, of course, that Alec was ready and willing to dive straight into deep waters at any given moment. Ready to drown, whenever Seregil saw fit to give him the opportunity.

Seregil turned his hand so it would be easier for Alec to take it, then pulled the combined hands together to his lips and kissed Alec's. "I can't help feeling like you're using my own words against me." Hiding his the teasing smirk behind their joined hands.

"But slowly, I think. No matter how much I might want otherwise." And he did, there was no pretense that he didn't want Alec, it had been damn hard living with the man here without wanting to do unspeakable things to him. Especially knowing that it would be gladly welcomed. "I'm still getting used to all the changes."

Edited 2019-02-16 07:23 (UTC)

"I understand. There's no rush, talí. We have all the time in the world."

Alec's smile grew warmer with the kiss to his hand. Seregil's sudden change of heart was surprising, but certainly not unwelcome. He could take all the time he needed. As long as Alec had his love, everything else could wait.

They were, however, still crouched on the floor. There were far more comfortable places in their pod to carry on this conversation. Alec squeezed Seregil's hand, and inclined his head toward the couch.

"Would you care to come off the floor, though?"

If he had asked, Seregil would have explained that there was no change of heart, only the removal of all his need to fight it. He'd feared that Alec would be repulsed by his feelings, that one way or another it would destroy their friendship, and he wanted nothing ever to do that. He hoped he could remain by Alec's side for the rest of his life; no matter how many lovers the other man took or how much Seregil's heart ached at the thought of it.

Alec had allayed those fears by treating him the same as always, by wanting to remain by Seregil's side and treating him as the same man no matter his fears.

The rest, of course, came with time. This Alec wasn't the green boy that Seregil had picked up in a dungeon; this Alec was older, wiser and able to make his own decisions. There need not be the same fear of doing to Alec what Ilar did to him. This Alec was an Alec who didn't live for Seregil's praise; he was his own man.

"We need pillows." By the time Seregil had finished with the pod there would be as many comforts as he could cram into the thing, but for now, they had to love with what they had, so he carefully stood and pulled Alec to his feet. "And a hearth." Not that he was sure how he was planning on making that happen.

"Agreed, on both points."

Alec glanced around the pod, seemingly picking out which spots might be best-suited to pillows. They'd rarely had so much space in their personal quarters before. They favored the Otter & Stag for their base of operation in Rhiminee, and their rooms there were so crowded, Ruetha had grown used to simply sleeping on piles of discarded miscellany. They'd already acquired a few new pieces of junk in this place, and no doubt more were on the way. Pillows and a hearth would simply make it more homey.

Home, however, was a relative term. Home was at Seregil's side, wherever that happened to be.

Alec hadn't released Seregil's hand just yet. His thumb passed idly over the back of Seregil's knuckles, simply marvelling at how perfect it felt to touch the man again.

"Your hand is warm," Alec said, quietly, with a fond smile.

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