“Seeing him, seeing his face, sent Seren reeling back. Trull Sengar? Trull—

The vision faded, was gone.”

HELLLLPPPPP MEEE IM DROWNING IN MY OTP

Seren Pedac and Trull Sengar

I need to talk about Reaper’s Gale for a moment and how Trull/Seren has usurped SanSan as my otp. I never thought it could happen but it has. I still love SanSan with all my heart but gods Seren is still carrying his sword and traveling with his brother, who must serve as a constant reminder to her of Trull and she has no way of knowing whether Trull is dead or alive ugh these feels someone hold them. And omg what was that moment when Fear said ‘Sorry, we were beginning to worry, or, at least I was.’ Like how am I supposed to take this? How is my shipper heart supposed to take an admission like that from Fear Sengar, huh? He is Trull’s brother, why is he taking Seren’s absence personally or am I looking too deep into this someone help I’ve been watching too much TVD

Midnight Tides

I finished it last night. Took me exactly one month, which isn’t too bad really. So, finishing the book I cried but then I was happy again and then of course I cried one more time because, lol, Erikson refuses to give me a happy ending again after Gardens of the Moon. Some cool things I want to talk about and some heartbreaking stuff and surprisingly some SanSan feels? I am such a fangirl and I hate myself… Anyway, lots of Trull meta forthcoming among other things. Enter at your own spoilery risk.

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As he made his way onto the bridge, Trull Sengar saw the Acquitor. She was standing midway across the bridge, motionless as a frightened deer, her gaze fixed on the main road leading through the village. Trull could not see what had snared her attention.
He hesitated. Then her head turned and he met her eyes.
There were no words for what passed between them at that instant. A gaze that began searchingly, then swiftly and ineffably transformed into something else. That locked contact was mutually broken in the next moment, instinctive reactions from them both.
In the awkward wake, nothing was said for a half-dozen heartbeats. Trull found himself struggling against a sense of vast emptiness deep in his chest.
Seren Pedac spoke first. ‘Is there no room left, Trull Sengar?’
And he understood. ‘No, Acquitor. No room left.’
‘I think you would have it otherwise, wouldn’t you?’
The question brushed too close to the wordless recognition they had shared only a few moments earlier, and he saw once again in her eyes a flicker of … something. He mentally recoiled from an honest reply. ‘I serve my emperor.’
The flicker vanished, replaced by a cool regard that slipped effortlessly through his defences, driving like a knife into his chest. ‘Of course. Forgive me. It is too late for questions like that. I must be leaving now, to escort Buruk the Pale back to Trate.’
Each word a twist of that knife, despite their being seemingly innocuous. He did not understand how they – and the look in her eyes – could hurt him so deeply, and he wanted to cry out. Denials. Confessions. Instead he punctuated the break of that empathy with a damning shrug. ‘Journey well, Acquiror.’ Nothing more, and he knew himself for a coward.
He watched her walk away. Thinking on his life’s journey as much as the Acquitor’s, on the stumbles that occurred, with no awareness of their potential for profundity. Balance reacquired, but the path had changed.
So many choices proved irrevocable. Trull wondered if this one would as well.

Midnight Tides | The Malazan Book of The Fallen | Steven Erikson