The evening was late, and to be fair Scott was far drunker than he had any right to be. It had been so easy to drink too much, with angaran wine flowing freely and everyone so happy. Especially the groom, who had danced his bride across the square multiple times. He was always going to remember how Sarah had laughed as she danced with the man who was hers now, the man a part of him wanted to be his.

But that part was quiet now, silenced by drinks and his own will. Because he couldn't love him anymore, mustn't love him anymore. An old earth song came to him. If you can't be with the one you love, love the one your with. But was he really with Gil? He had treated the other man abominably. Blown hot and cold, drawn him closer and pushed him away with the same motion. Taken selfishly what was given and given nothing back.

He'd been selfish, Scott realised as he looked down at the glass of wine he was holding. He didn't know which number he was on, but it didn't matter. He could see Gil in the brightly lit square, dancing, laughing, having the time of his life with a man Scott didn't know. He didn't need to know him; he knew his body language. He wanted to slip between them, press close to Gil and show that he was his, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure Gil was his.

So instead he turned and walked, alone, into the shadows. He didn't know where he was going, or what he was going to do once he got there.

Because that was his path, to walk alone in shadows and find a way forward. Forward, forward, always forward. He was the pathfinder. And if he didn't look back, then he hadn't left anything behind.

But the treacherous tears still slipped unbidden down his cheeks.

Jaal's arm was heavy around Sarah's waist as they left the party, Sarah's head heavy with exhaustion and impressions. She'd even had some wine, and it made her drowsy in a way she didn't like at all. The Ayan moon shone pale and yellow somewhere above her head and the smell of the flowers in her hair were becoming too strong, too intense for her to handle. She tugged at it, but couldn't remove it.

Heavy hands slid through her hair, undoing the tangles and removing the flower crown. Then those same hands removed the garland around her neck, and she turned to look at Jaal.

He smiled at her, she realised after a moment, and smiled back like you should.

"Sarah" he said, his voice low and soft. They hadn't really talked to each other yet, only danced and danced and danced until she was dizzy and her feet hurt.

"Jaal" she replied, not knowing what to expect from him.

"May I hold you?" He asked, and she frowned.

"You've held me many times, when we danced, and you didn't ask then. Why are you asking now?"

Jaal looked confused for a moment, cocking his head to the side.

"Because I want to hold you on the bed," he said eventually, "without clothing."

"Oh. You want to have sex." That she understood, Avela had explained to her.

But Jaal shook his head.

"Only if you want to. I will not deny that seeing you in the moonlight makes me want to touch you, but I will not if my touch is unwelcome."

Sarah felt confused. She hadn't expected to be given a choice. She let her eyes take in the man in front of her, so alien and so familiar at the same time. Her husband. Her Jaal.

"I… I don't know." She admitted, reluctant. "I… I think I want to see first."

Jaal nodded once, then he started undressing. The robe fell, and so did the trousers underneath, and his jewelry. The flower wreath and garland were put on the small table by the wall, and his clothes too. Then he removed the last of his clothing and stood before her nude, and he was nothing like what she expected.

She had seen pictures of naked angaran men, but to be faced with one in real life was different.

He had broad shoulders and a flat stomach and his penis laid flaccid against his thigh. It drew her attention; she had expected it hard. Realizing she was staring at his private parts, Sarah looked away blushing.

"You may look all you wish" he told her gently. "This is yours now. I am yours, to do with as you wish."

"Can I… can I touch?" she asked shyly.

He laid down on the bed, spreading out as if displaying himself. IT made her self-conscious, in that she was still dressed. So she squirmed out of the blue wrap Cora had given her, and pulled the dress over her head. Then she hesitated momentarily before letting her bra and panties fall to the floor.

Jaal's gaze turned warm and heavy. "Beautiful" he crooned, reaching out a hand to her. She went to him with slight trepidation.

"I don't know what I'm doing" she whispered against his lips, his hands warm and strong on her back, one sliding down to cup her buttocks.

"I know" he replied, sounding kind and sure. "Try to trust me."

"I trust you" Sarah whispered, realizing she meant it.

"Then I will teach you." He promised.

And he did, lesson after lesson until she fell asleep exhausted in his arms shortly before the dawn came.

Jaal stroked his new wife's mussed hair and thought of her brother. Hoping in time, he'd find a way to be friends with the man who loved him.