Glimpses (4 page)

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Authors: Lynn Flewelling

Tags: #alec, #collection, #erotica, #fantasy, #glimpses, #lynn flewelling, #nightrunner, #nightrunners, #scifi fantasy, #seregil, #short stories

BOOK: Glimpses
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Korathan smiled down at him. “I think you
want more than kissing.”

Seregil managed a nod. Korathan unbuttoned
Seregil’s coat and eased it off his shoulders, letting it fall to
the floor. Seregil undid the lacings of his shirt and pulled it
over his head.

Korathan took off his own coat and shirt,
then kissed him again. His body was warm and hard against
Seregil’s. It felt good. So good that he didn’t mind at all when
they somehow ended up naked on Korathan’s big bed. He’d never been
completely naked with Ilar and found himself caught between
excitement and embarrassment. His own pale body looked so scrawny
next to Korathan’s lean muscle. But Korathan soon overwhelmed any
hesitancy, kissing him and touching him all over. Seregil gasped as
the prince nipped his neck just to the point of pain. It
immediately turned to pleasure again as Korathan swirled his hot
tongue around Seregil’s left nipple. He ran his hard,
sword-callused hands down Seregil’s sides to grip his hips for a
moment, then caressed the insides of each thigh with fingers and
lips.

Seregil’s whole body was consumed with heat,
both by the feeling of being touched so intimately, but also the
sight of the handsome young man doing the touching. Korathan knelt
beside him, pale hair hanging down around his face to tickle as he
kissed Seregil’s belly. When Seregil tried to do the same for him,
however, Korathan laughed and pushed him down on the bed again,
then wrapped his hand around Seregil’s cock and stroked him until
Seregil was moaning between clenched teeth. Just as he was about to
come in Korathan’s hand, however, the prince stopped and stretched
out close beside Seregil, kissing him and running his fingers
through Seregil’s tangled hair. “You’re very beautiful, you
know.”

 

 

“No—”

“Yes, you are, and you know it,” Korathan
teased, stroking Seregil’s belly just beyond reach of his cock.

“Please!” Seregil groaned, shivering with raw
sensation.

But Korathan continued to tease him until
Seregil could hardly stand the intensity of the feelings coursing
through every fiber of his being. He’d never been more aroused in
his life. At last Korathan kissed his way down the length of
Seregil’s shaft, licked at the bead of honey that had formed there,
then took Seregil’s cock firmly in his fist again and quickly
brought him to a long and blinding climax that left Seregil feeling
like he was floating several inches above the bed.

Before he could gather his wits enough to
thank Korathan, the prince rolled Seregil over onto his side and
spooned in behind him, gently fondling his softening cock.
Korathan’s was still very hard and hot against Seregil’s
backside.

Nuzzling Seregil’s ear, Korathan slid his
hand back to cup Seregil buttock and whispered, “Have you ever had
a man here?”

“No ... “ Seregil knew what he meant, though.
Male unions were not uncommon in Aurënen and people talked. Ilar
had even hinted at it, though they’d never gotten that far. “I hear
it hurts.”

“Just a little, at the start, then it feels
very good.” Korathan licked Seregil’s ear and squeezed his bottom
again. “I’d be honored to be the first.”

Still awash in pleasurable sensations from
all that Korathan had done to him so far, and glowing with wine,
Seregil nodded slowly. “I suppose we could try.”

 

***

 

They made love often after that, but always
in secret. It was Korathan’s wish, and Seregil was happy not to
give anyone more reason to gossip about him.

Korathan was rougher with him than Ilar had
been, but it was only passion and Seregil didn’t mind. Not at all,
even on the nights when Korathan kept him until dawn, making
Seregil late for work. Once there, Seregil had a hard time not
thinking about him during the day—Korathan’s hand tight and
merciless around Seregil’s cock as he rocked against him, into him,
nipping his neck and shoulders…

This sort of wool gathering earned Seregil
more frequent thumps from Emidas’s stick.

 

***

 

He was later than usual one morning near the
end of winter, having had to fetch a heavy, crumbling tome from the
palace library to be copied over. He’d forgotten to do it yesterday
in his haste to meet Korathan.

For once he was excited about an assignment.
The book was very old and fragile, and had illuminated capitals at
the head of each chapter. He was quite proud that Emidas had
entrusted it to him and anxious to escape the monotony of manifests
and letters.

Seregil was relieved to see that Emidas
wasn’t at his desk yet. As he started for his own, however, someone
pointed at him and laughed. He tried to ignore it, but soon most of
the room was laughing and talking behind their hands.

“What?” Seregil demanded.

“Nice love bites on your neck, Master
Seregil,” Amidas snickered from across the aisle.

Seregil blushed hotly, which only drew more
laughter. He always tried to be careful, and not let Korathan mark
him anywhere that showed, but the prince had been more ardent than
usual last night. There must be something showing above his
collar.

If they knew who my lover was, they wouldn’t
be laughing in my face, he thought angrily and had to resist the
urge to blurt out the truth. As it was, he had no choice but to
continue on down the aisle and hope they’d lose interest soon. Just
as he reached his desk, however, his chief nemesis, Baleus, said
loud enough for everyone to hear, “I bet he paid you well. I hear
‘faie tail doesn’t come cheaply!”

The sheer magnitude of the insult stunned
Seregil. An exile he might be, but in this benighted land he still
had some honor. Lacking a sword, he hit Baleus over the head with
the book as hard as he could. The fragile volume fell to pieces in
his hands, pages fluttering down around the two of them.

“You little bastard!” Baleus staggered up and
swung his fist at Seregil.

Seregil dodged the clumsy blow but couldn’t
escape this second, vile accusation. As he raised his fist,
however, someone caught his arm and yanked him away.

Seregil pulled free and found himself facing
a furious Emidas.

“Stop, the pair of you! What is the meaning
of this?” the scribe demanded, glaring at both of them and the
scattered remains of the book.

“He called me a whore, and a bastard!”
Seregil told him.

“Is that all?” Emidas regarded him in
disbelief, then slapped him across the face. “For that you
destroyed a three hundred-year-old book?”

“Is that all?” Seregil gasped as more
laughter broke out. The words hurt far more than the slap. Knowing
better than to strike Emidas, Seregil instead snatched up an
inkwell and emptied it over the man’s head, then snarled in his
face, “You have no honor! Not one of you!”

Shoving Emidas out of the way, Seregil
stalked off for the door, pulling off his scribe’s robe as he
went.

“The queen will hear of this!” Emidas shouted
after him.

Seregil tossed the robe on the floor as he
went out. “Yes, she will!”

And so would Korathan.

 

***

 

Research had kept Nysander busy in his tower
for most of the winter. Being without an apprentice at the moment,
he had to do everything himself, but he didn’t mind. As much as he
missed Alia, he was happy that she’d found a place with a noble
household. She wrote him regularly of her progress, as did his
other former students.

The tower was a bit empty without her, he had
to admit, but he wasn’t about to take on just anyone. A poorly
chosen apprentice was nothing but a nuisance and a burden. His
thoughts turned once again to the lonely Aurënfaie.

Given the close ties between the Orëska and
the court, it was only natural that gossip should flow back and
forth and Nysander had always found it useful to pay attention. Now
and then one learned something of use.

It was his friend Magyana who brought him
word of Seregil.

“I was just over at the palace,” the old
wizard told him over tea. “It seems that young Aurënfaie has been
dismissed from another post.”

“What for this time?”

“Apparently he attacked another scribe, and
Lord Emidas himself.”

“Indeed?” Unhappiness such as he’d sensed in
the young ‘faie eventually found some outlet. “What were the
circumstances?”

“I don’t know, but Seregil’s with the
household guard now. Word is he’s quite the swordsman. Perhaps this
will suit him better.”

Nysander sighed. Another missed
opportunity.

Magyana refilled her cup from the old brown
teapot. “I heard something else of him, as well. Or rather,
overheard it from the servants.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“That young Seregil is Prince Korathan’s
current lover.”

Nysander raised an eyebrow at that. “I see. I
wonder if that is a good idea?” Korathan was known not to stay with
anyone for long.

“There was some debate as to who seduced
whom.”

Nysander thought of the unhappy young man
he’d met. There had been an air of innocence about him, or so
Nysander had thought.

“My money is on the prince,” Magyana said
dryly.

Nysander shrugged. “Well, it’s no concern of
mine, but I wonder how it will end?”

 

***

 

Spring rain lashed against the bed chamber
windows as Korathan tumbled Seregil onto the bed and stretched out
on top of him. “I missed you! Three nights is too long. I don’t
think I like this new post of yours.”

Seregil wrapped his arms around his tall
lover, inhaling his rich scent. “Then you shouldn’t have gotten it
for me, should you?”

“But you’re happier with the guard?”

“Yes!” Seregil kissed him soundly and grinned
up at him. “I’d almost forgotten the feeling of a sword in my
hand.”

“Really?” Korathan pulled Seregil’s hand to
his cock and had him wrap his fingers around it. “Not much
different, is it?”

Seregil laughed and took advantage of their
position, rocking his hips to rub their two erections together and
pulling a sigh of pleasure from his lover. He loved Korathan’s
body, loved knowing what do to do make him hard, make him come ...
And Korathan could play Seregil’s body like a harp.

The prince wasted little time on foreplay
tonight. Making use of the flask of oil he kept beside the bed, he
prepared them both, then gripped Seregil by the hips and plunged
in. Seregil hissed at the brief pain, but as Korathan had promised
him that first night together, it only lasted a moment and was well
worth the pleasure that followed, especially when Korathan wrapped
his hand around Seregil’s shaft and pumped him in time to his
thrusts. Heat blossomed through Seregil’s body as he leaned back
against Korathan, moving in perfect unison.

So lost in pleasure were they that neither
one heard Phoria enter the sitting room, didn’t even know she was
there until she appeared in the open bedroom doorway.

“What in Bilairy’s name—?” She was paler than
usual and looking at them aghast. “Seregil! How could you?”

“Damn it, sister!” Korathan pushed Seregil
away and pulled the corner of the comforter over the two of
them.

“Get out!” Phoria growled.

Seregil knew she was speaking to him. He
looked to Korathan to defend him, but the prince just murmured,
“You’d best go.”

Shocked, mortified, and deeply hurt, Seregil
struggled off the bed, grabbed what he could of his scattered
clothing and hurried past her. She slammed the door after him and
he could hear her shouting at her brother. Yanking on his breeches
and shirt, he was almost out the door and free before he caught the
word “whore.”

Barefoot and coatless, he ignored the looks
he got from servants as he ran back to his room and shut the door.
Fighting back angry tears, he collapsed into a chair by the window
and waited for Korathan to come explain himself.

But the night passed and Korathan never
came.

 

***

 

Nysander had forgotten all about Seregil
again, until word came in early spring that he was in disgrace,
dismissed from his post with the household guard, though no one
seemed to know why.

It was raining as Nysander as set off for the
palace, and the bleak color of the sky reminded him of the
Seregil’s eyes the day they’d met. At the palace the wizard was
directed to the family wing, though to the end of it furthest from
the royal quarters. A young page led him through several passages
to the archway that led to the south garden.

“He’s out there, my lord,” the page told him.
“I tried to make him come in, but he won’t.”

The rain was coming down even harder now, and
he could just make out someone wrapped in a dark mantle hunched on
one of the marble benches. Nysander dismissed the page, then pulled
up the hood of his cloak and walked out to join the young man.

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