This story takes place after the DragonLance Chronicle Series Book, Summer Flame but is based after the classic dragonlance and its heroes, not the 5th age. I don't care for the 5th age story line much but I have worked in a few of my own twists to keep the classic alive. Read on if any of this interests you.
DragonLance The Aftermath: Dalamar
Part 2: A Union of Sorts
The fire was so hot. It grabbed at his skin, singed his hair and filled his longs and veins with a horrendous heat that caused his mind to explode in pain. Dalamar screamed, the sound ripping from his lungs in painful agony. It was not until he was out of breath and too weak to make sound did he realize that a cool cloth bathed his forehead and someone was murmuring to him in a soft raspy voice.
"The fire is gone. It is all gone."
Dalamar coughed heavily as he moved his fingers and shifted briefly, testing reality. Only then did he open his dark almond shaped eyes and gaze into the golden hourglass eyes of a familiar face. "Shalifi?" He whispered before the world began to spin and he was forced to close them again.
An airy laugh and a rustle of robes was followed by a small cup against his lips, the water smelling more wonderful than the finest wines of Silvanesti. "Drink."
The dark elf obeyed without hesitation though he found himself pulling away after only a few sips. "Chaos. The lava. They're all around!" His voice began to rise as he felt his pulse quicken and burn under his pale skin.
Crack! Dalamar's eyes flew open to see Raistlin holding a common staff which he slammed against the floor.
"Enough of this Dalamar." He voiced quietly. "Bring your mind back to the realm of the living or die. I've not the time nor resources to do this another month."
The young elf hugged himself with his own arms as his pale body trembled. His eyes remained open, and he knew he was in bed, sitting on sheets damp with his own sweat. His long dark hair hung down his face, just past his shoulders, and was also damp and clumped. Despite his fear, his weakness, Dalamar began to sob and rock.
Raistlin stepped forward and took one of Dalamar's hands and pulled him forward a bit. He found no resistance. "Look at this Dalamar. This is your flesh, this is your skin. Unmarred, not burned, not black. Look!" The last word was voiced with strength and anger.
Dalamar took few quick breaths and peered at his arm, his hand which still seemed alien, apart from him. It was true, there was nothing wrong with this arm, nothing wrong at all. Carefully, as if performing an experiment, he wiggled his fingers. They too worked. His confused eyes lifted to Raistlin. "Master.... you are dead." He finally declared after several moments of pure silence.
Raistlin let go and laughed, this time louder and perhaps would have gone on longer if he did not enter his own coughing fit. The human mage, his white hair a bit longer than Dalamar remember, removed a handkerchief from the pocket of his light tanned robe and wiped his mouth. "Finally coherent thought. Stand Dalamar you are in great need of a bath.."
Dalamar tried to stand but found himself lacking the strength to do so. "Bath?" he voiced softly.
Raistlin shuffled forward supporting him under his armpit and elbow. Dalamar was able to get to his feet after a few moments of what must have looked like a pitiful struggle between the two of them.
"Yes, a bath. Something your race is rather good at. There is a river nearby. I suppose it would be faster for me to get the water and bring it back than it is to drag you down there again." He muttered quietly, almost like more to himself than Dalamar.
Dalamar followed him out into the cool afternoon air, shielding his eyes from the painful rays of the sun as he found himself alone, standing in the dirt and shivering while watching his master disappear into the trees and bushes ahead. His body shook from the moisture of his tattered clothing, and fever. The latter entered his mind slowly. The elf realized he was ill, perhaps very ill, but alive. The thought hit him hard. Alive and in the world... their world. They had won. The god was defeated... the plans foiled. Victory... His heart suddenly sank as his dark eyes dropped to the palms of his hand, gazing at his fragile looking hands. The strength he used to see in them was gone. It was gone. "No," he voiced in panic. "It cannot be. It cannot be."
Raistlin returned with a bucket of water. "It is. Now disrobe."
Dalamar did not register Raistlin's presence or the command. He quickly sought for a small spell, even the tiniest form of magic, the weakest spell but nothing came. Nothing. His thoughts were quickly returned to his surroundings as a large cold splash of water struck him like a thousand needles. He gasped aloud, pulling back quickly only to trip over the steps to the small cottage and fall, trembling, shivering, and sobbing again.
Raistlin spoke harshly again as he took a large blanket and began to dry the wet elf off. "Stop moving or you will be out in the cold longer."
Dalamar struck out at him weakly. "Leave me." He was ignored as Raistlin continued to dry him off with surprising gentleness though he dare not look at his master directly. He involuntarily tensed as the rough cloth went to his chest though his eyes peered down when no pain come. The wounds were gone.
Raistlin placed his fingers on Dalamar's chest carefully, causing the elf to gasp in instant fear. The human merely smiled and spoke softly. "Interesting." He then pulled Dalamar to his feet with surprising strength and dragged him back into cottage.
Dalamar's cheeks burned with light embarrassment as he searched for clothing. Though his anger surfaced at such a reaction, he couldn't help it, and the fact that Raistlin's laughter and mere breathing unnerved him didn't help. Finally he gave up and spoke. "I need clothes," he whispered as he turned to the once powerful wizard who was removing the soiled bedding and replacing it with new.
"You will have to go without until these are cleaned and dried. Into bed, it will warm you."
Dalamar complied after a moment and pulled the covers over himself quickly, breathing deeply as warmth began to return to his body. He sat up slowly, propping himself with a couple of pillows as he watched the gold skinned human warm a tea that filled the room with an odd spicy aroma. A few coughs racked the now fragile looking body. "Why do you help me?"
Raistlin gave an airy laugh as he sat at a small table in a wobbly chair, sipping the steaming tea. "You are more able body than I, you will be useful."
Dalamar narrowed his eyes. "A slave then."
The hourglasses peered back at him. "I believe you are my apprentice, unless you think you have learned enough to go forth into this world and survive alone on what you have learned, or that you believe I have given you all the knowledge I will."
"You have no magic to teach me," Dalamar spat, feeling the new fear of that knowledge resurfacing. All that he gave up, all that he worked for gone. But why?
"Do I not?" He remarked.
The elf shivered and only now noticed the pains of his empty stomach. He said nothing of it, he had too much pride for such a thing. He was capable, once a Head Wizard even of the Black Robes. Without Magic, he would be stronger than Raistlin. The dark elf pondered on that thought. Of course, he would take what he needed when the time came and go.
Raistlin tossed the remainder of the tea in the fire causing it to hiss angrily, snapping Dalamar out of his pondering. "You will not outwit me my weak elven friend. Not even on your best days."
Dalamar shivered at the hard gaze that was focused on him. He turned away, angry that he did so only a moment later. These helpless feelings, this strange weakness and insecurity he felt was driving him to nearly forget all that he had learned while being a powerful wizard. Show no weakness, show no weakness, he repeated in his mind though he felt the doubt instantly within him. He was scared.
Raistlin went to him, holding a small wooden bowl up to his mouth. "A broth, drink it slowly."
Dalamar obeyed again, trying to drink quickly but his master would not let him. Raistlin seemed to have an iron grip on the bowl, not allowing him to do more than sip the nourishing liquid. When he was done, it was taken away. "More," he voiced weakly, a surprising whimpering sound from his own body.
A cool cloth was placed back on his forehead. "Not yet. Rest. You need more sleep."
Dalamar relaxed after a moment, finding his panic rising as he tried to fight the appearance of being weakened. "Where is she Shalafi?"
Raistlin was silent for a few moments but then spoke. "I am not certain. She was not near you, nor was anyone else. You washed up on the shore."
"But you... you found me...? Where are we?" His dark eyes dared to return to the great wizard's facial features. Raistlin was thoughtful.
"Yes, I did. Where we are doesn't matter at the moment. Now rest, you must get well if we are to have shelter and food for the next months."
Scrounging for food, the elf thought bitterly. The irony was almost unbearable. Here were the remains of two very powerful wizards who's eyes and thoughts were no longer focused on tomes of old, but the mere thoughts of not starving or freezing to death.
Dalamar shivered. "Shalafi please... this is hard for me."
Raistlin eyed him carefully. "Yes, it is." The golden hands, amazingly strong and warm, took Dalamar's hands. "It will be all right Dalamar. You are intelligent and stronger than this. It will simply take time."
Dalamar returned the gaze for a few moments. "You are still human my Shalafi. Your time and mine will never be..."
Raistlin smiled slowly, his eyes glistening a moment. "Am I apprentice?"
The dark elf looked at his hands. "More broth if I could."
Raistlin nodded and proceeded to bathe his forehead and feed him until his eyelids closed peacefully.
Dalamar awoke late in the afternoon. His head was resting against a soft velvety pillow that smelled of deep spices and roses and lowered with every heartbeat...? He blinked a few moments and nearly jumped when a warm hand touched the back of his head. "You are awake."
He closed his eyes again as he felt the nausea rising. A luke warm cup of water graced his lips, and Dalamar accepted greedily, nearly choking as he drank urgently.
"Shhh Dalamar, slow down."
Dalamar gasped for air as he sat up. He felt the painful combination of oxygen and water colliding in his throat. It took him a few moments to regain his breath.
Raistlin stood and eyed him patiently. "Your robes are not dry, for now, I have secured you a long tunic.
Dalamar took the brownish tanned item and dressed. It was peasants garb but at least it was clean. He looked at his own body that still, amazingly enough, had a few muscles and a decent color. "You said a month?"
"Yes, but you have been eating and even walked a bit. Your memory fails no doubt. You had high fever."
"And yet you kept me alive. I had no idea that you..."
"Despite what you may have heard and observed, you know little about me," Raistlin corrected quietly.
Dalamar frowned a moment. "You mentioned few resources. I am certain we can salvage enough from the area to travel to the Tower."
Raistlin laughed lowly. "Not even you nor I can pass the grove at this point. Not when the gods have not yet returned."
Dalamar leaned forward. "Returned?"
"In order to 'protect' their world, they departed taking Chaos with them. But of course they will return. This is their creation, their child. You do not abandon a child to save it. No... The gods have proven themselves capable of as much folly as mortals. They will return when they realize the errors they have made yet again. This world is built on balance, a balance they destroyed by leaving. One that will never be restored without their return. Our world will destroy itself in conflict."
The elf stood, testing his legs as he walked forward. "But how do you know...?"
Raistlin laughed again though this time it was not cruel or even frightening. "You ask me that after all we have been through apprentice."
Dalamar hesitated. "No I guess not." It was true his Shalafi had amazing ways of gaining knowledge and simply knew what no others seemed to.
Raistlin supported the elf and took them outside for some fresh air. He put Dalamar on an old but sturdy rocking chair and covered him with a blanket. "I will begin returning with herbs and fungi. I want you to sort them and wash them with the bucket to your left. Then place them out to dry."
The dark elf accepted the command with little grace but said nothing in return. He was weak, very weak and fortunate to be alive. "Are we far from Solace. Perhaps your brother..."
"Never," Raistlin hissed angrily, his cool composure suddenly dark and foreboding. "We will not turn to him for sanctuary or any such offerings apprentice." The calm slowly settled on the golden face and strange hourglass eyes. "I will return shortly."
Dalamar let his breath out when Raistlin disappeared beyond the vegetation not a hundred yards from here. His dark eyes narrowed slowly as he began to unwittingly rock. Was his Shalafi truly without power, or did he somehow manage to escape the fate of the rest of them. If anyone could, the Master of the Past and Future must be the one. But how? With the three gods of magic gone, there was no one left to bestow such gifts as magic even onto the deserving. His fingers tapped the rocking chair, though they quickly clasped his blanket as a cool breeze drifted up his light tunic. Dalamar shivered and covered himself completely with the blanket. What to do?
Raistlin's airy laugh caused him to lower his warm shelter again. The archmage placed down a basket of several strange looking mushrooms and other roots. "Come now Dalamar. One would think you are stronger than this. How ever did you expect to defeat me if you give up so easily."
Dalamar's lips pursed a bit, only causing more amusement in his Shalafi's eyes.
"Yes, of course I know. You planned to attack me as I came out." Raistlin took a seat as he began sorting through the goods. "I had it all planned to the last moment."
Dalamar sneered lightly. "I doubt you planned your own death."
Raistlin's dagger eyes pierced him quickly, a rush of anger that caused the elf to inhale sharply. "Nothing is as delicate as destiny and the future my apprentice. Not even the gods can predict the wheel of time." His voice lowered. "And certainly not you or I. Kitiara nearly had you in the end did she not?"
Dalamar turned away, feeling the strings at his heart pull lightly. "She was a remarkable woman."
"Yes, and you a fool to trust her." Raistlin placed two large toadstools in Dalamar's hand as well as a sharp knife. "Long ways and thin."
Dalamar obeyed, his dark eyes focusing on his task though his mind went back to the days when the world had been threatened by the very man he agitated before him. "Only you Shalafi, could do as you have done and still sit before me as if, as if..."
"Nothing has happened," Raistlin ended for him. "Much has happened Dalamar. I have not overlooked such a simple fact, nor have you I suspect. Knowledge and power above else, is it not? Yet now you have regrets it seems."
Dalamar's brown gaze went to Raistlin causing the elf to slice his palm lightly. He did not wince nor did he turn from his companion's gaze.
The golden finger's went to his cut, lightly placing a small cloth over the wound. Slowly the almond shaped brown eyes lowered to where their hand's joined. The elf swallowed while his Shalafi's fingers glided up his forearm. "Your muscle tone remains fairly well though you will have to work at it to gain back the weight and strength you had before."
Dalamar whispered quietly. "Shalafi, do you still see decay through your eyes. Is the world so.. so ugly?"
Raistlin laughed lowly. "What does it matter to you my apprentice?"
Dalamar's cheeks burned a light red as he found himself at a loss for words, or more correctly, unable to voice them. Because he was so lonely, so afraid, because he wanted to know how Raistlin viewed him now. Did he see his skin sagging and turning a hue of grey right before his eyes, or did his old Shalifi see... him. "It matters little I suppose," he voiced quietly as he placed the fungi in a neat pile and picked up another to cut. It was a strange pairing, the two of them. He admired yet feared Raistlin. He hated him yet depended on him. All these feelings were very much the same as when he had worked side by side this great mage in the tower, before his Shalifi tried to take on the world, the god's themselves. Now, there was something else there as well. The way he looked at him, the gentle firmness of his hands, the spicy smell of his presence. Dalamar shook his head slowly, trying to ward away these odd feelings. It was the sickness nothing more.
Strong gold fingers stilled his cutting and clasped his hand firmly, gently. "Go inside," came the quiet voice. "You are shaking with cold."
Dalamar peered at his own body realizing the truth in those words. He was indeed trembling terribly yet had somehow not noticed for his hands were steady. Because of the warmth, he suddenly thought, the warmth of the human's hand. The young elf put down his work and stood slowly, watching the hourglass globes for a moment before turning and heading in.
"Straight to bed," Raistlin mocked softly.
Dalamar sneered, his anger surfacing quickly, all the prior thoughts vanishing from his mind in but a moment's breath. He whirled to faced Raistlin only to find himself starring at his back for the mage was walking back out into the forest. He swallowed slowly and climbed into the bed, the cold creeping away after a few minutes. Finding his eyelids suddenly heavy, Dalamar pulled the blankets over his head and sighed softly, trying to hide the tears that he could not keep dammed any longer. She was gone... he could feel it. And here he was, in area unknown to him weak, vulnerable, and at the mercy of a person that gods had tried to predict but failed.
The sun woke him up the next morning. Its rays blasting through the broken glass. Dalamar sighed softly as his dark eyes opened and closed in denial. It could not be morning already. Had he not just fallen asleep. The young elf shifted uncomfortable as he felt an odd ache. Pulling the blankets with him, he sat up and peered down at his body in dismay. Here, of all places here and now. Looking around the room slowly and taking note that Raistlin was nowhere near, he let his trembling hand reach under the blanket and grasp his aching member. He closed his eyes in a light sigh and let his fingers gently stroke his hard flesh, his thumb tracing the tip. His pink tongue moistened his lips as he quickened the pace, his hips lifting lightly off the bed as he breathed deeply. Dalamar hissed softly as he quickened his speed.
"Try not to get too carried away apprentice. You will need some of your strength to aid with the work today."
Dalamar felt the blood drain from his face as his dark eyes lifted to meet Raistlin's steady gaze. The hourglass globes did not so much as blink as his master came forward and leaned down, his thin golden hands gripping the makeshift staff a bit as their eyes became level. "I suppose it is too late to stop now my apprentice." He felt frozen even as the golden hand reached under the blanket and joined his trembling hand around his stiff member. His Shalafi guided their movement but never actually touched anything but his hand. The young elf leaned back and moaned, his eyes closing as he followed the ever quickening pace his master wanted. Embarrassingly enough, Dalamar came quickly with a light cry like some sort of youth caught in the stages of pleasure. He made a move to sit up but was stopped when Raistlin's thin lips crushed his own in a deep kiss, the warm tongue snaking its way into his mouth and slightly down his throat causing him to arch beneath the archmage. Then as quickly as it seemed to start, it ended as Raistlin stood and backed away, going about the small cottage and picking up a pail as if nothing had happened.
"Raistlin..." Dalamar's voice caught in his throat as he the golden hourglass eyes stared at him icily for a moment. Without a word, his Shalifi left the cottage.
Dalamar felt shame enter the bowels of his being before it colored his cheeks. He stood, quickly dressing in his garments as anger began to surface. Damn the human and his abilities to make people... people so uncertain and confused. The dark elf would not fall for him, he vowed softly. Raistlin used people and discarded them like garbage. He pulled on the cleanest and warmest garments he could find before going out the door. It was too late, the wizard was gone. With anger driving him on, the dark elf turned and departed himself. Years living in the forest were bound to come back to him in a matter of hours he reasoned. There was no need for Raistlin anymore.
Dalamar moved rather quickly through the forest heading west, ignoring the approaching darkness. The balls of his bare feet ached a bit as did the fronts of his legs that were colored red from the constant brush he stumbled through. It had been far too long since he had done something as casual and simple as a walk through the forest. Despite his race forsaking him, Dalamar had never truly left his love of his people and their ways behind. To begin with, his little venture had been a relieving and pleasant. That all quickly subsided as he felt his body warm with renewed fever that made it difficult to keep track of where he was going. Finding water had been easy enough, as was using a few large leaves and mud to make a carrying case for the vital liquid. Berries and nuts were a bit harder to find, but accessible which left the elf rather pleased with himself. Still, the approaching darkness, though would not hinder his movement much, did signal a time for him to rest. His pointed ears had picked up the movement of wolves in the area, and though he held no great fear towards the four-legged hunters, his almond shaped eyes told him that the game in the area was not plentiful which left for a certain danger if the creatures were very hungry. Whether it was the gods or perhaps just Fate herself, Dalamar found a rather large tree with low branches to claim as a night shelter. The limbs were close together and plentiful, which was fortunate for it soon began to rain.
Dalamar awoke to few small drops falling onto his forehead, yet that was not the commotion that arose his slumber. It had been something more subtle, light. He crouched down low, ignoring the aching cold his body felt as he peered down below him at a figure who walked by using a staff. Raistlin, he thought dryly, bitterly. Where was his Shalifi going with that basket? Surely the hourglass eyes did not allow him night vision. The elf drew his lips back in a light snarl as he watched the golden face look up the tree. The human nearly seemed to stare through him but then walked onward, waving his staff to chase away the wolves that gathered around. Amazingly enough, nature's creatures allowed him by. He smiled slowly. It had to be to a market, a village perhaps even. Wasting little time, the once powerful elven magician stuck to the safety of the trees, using the branches and a few leaps to keep up. For now, his fever would just have to wait.
Raistlin moved forward tirelessly for several minutes, never once glancing behind him or even up again. The archmage knew his way too well it seemed, the confidence inspiring a vein of jealousy deep in Dalamar's heart. Such confidence had been stripped from him with the historical departure of the true god's. Too powerful for the gods or not, Raistlin, a mere mortal man, had no rights to bear such strength in his golden broken body.
The torch lights of the village had to be visible to the elf in the tree long before the human down below, yet somehow Dalamar knew Raistlin had the location of this dwelling embedded well in his mind. The smell of smoke and burning meat did nothing to quell the nausea rising in his body yet was a relief just the same. His body felt damp and hot, small droplets interfering with his sight. Every nerve in his body screamed at the elf to rest for just a moment but he would not allow its dominance over his somewhat clear mind. This village was a link to civilization. Perhaps Raistlin was content to dwell in the outskirts of the rest of the world, but he was not. Magic or not, his intelligence and knowledge could still lead to power and wealth once again. Stealthily, Dalamar dropped down to the ground below, ignoring his Shalifi completely as he made way to the wooden huts.
He stepped silently into an open doorway and spoke softly. "I've need of a mount and traveling supplies. There is vast amount of knowledge at your disposal if you aid me in this, also, my skills are not minor in the areas of scribing..." Dalamar's voice dropped off as his dark eyes widened when he realized that the merchant he spoke to was not human nor elven or any sort of civilized race a person would expect. This one was... an orc.
"An elf." Her pointed teeth shown brightly as her lips curved into a smile, the large sword in her hand suddenly seeming ugly and most deadly. "We've tired of goat for sometime. How fortunate. If you stay still, this might be painless." She mocked him openly, just as terrible and evil as her brethren he had worked with before.
His eyes narrowed as he backed out of the doorway, knowing full well that his elven agility could easily out maneuver her yet his sickness meant he could only do so for a short period of time.
The voices called out to him all around him which forced him to spring into action. It was too late, there were too many and he was surrounded. Dalamar forced his rising panic to subside. He would die with dignity at least and not easily.
"Steady your weapons," came a harsh whisper. "He may be an elf but he is also mine. I do not think kindly of those who would destroy my property," the warning was clear and seemingly deadly.
Dalamar turned to his cloaked Shalifi, his own anger rising. "Property! I am..." His voice trailed off quickly as the piercing hourglass eyes returned the gaze.
Raistlin continued with a steady voice, his eyes locked with his apprentice's. "The demonstrations I warned you with early were bloodless. If you desire bodies to prove my strength, then so be it though my preference is to sell my wares."
Slowly, the orcs disbursed, clearly angry but unwilling to tempt this powerful figure who's very name was likely uttered in fear by many races.
Raistlin motioned Dalamar to him with a slight wave of the hand. The dark elf was infuriated at the demeaning summons and nearly sought to engage the orcs once again out of spite. His Shalifi was testing not only his patience, but his pride with such a notion. The hourglass eyes gazed at him steadily, a light smile at the human wizard's lips as the elf took one step and then another until he was near Raistlin.
"Now sit down," Dalamar was commanded softly as Raistlin walked away, leaving him in the middle of the hostile orc camp. He took a few calming breaths and ignored the hateful gazes in his direction while he waited and pondered on the recent occurrences which was difficult to do since he still felt so hot and now very tired. Raistlin had labeled him as property, was it his Shalifi's true belief that Dalamar was now his slave, especially since he could not defend himself properly? Perhaps is Shalifi felt he owed Raistlin a debt for saving his life, or then again, it could all be simply a few clever words to avoid a confrontation with the orc village. The elf relaxed, letting his hands run slowly through his dark hair as his eyes closed. He just needed a moment to catch his wits, to relax, only a moment. In but a few minutes, he fell fast asleep.
A Union of Sorts
Dalamar opened his eyes cautiously, wondering if seeing his Shalifi, the orcs, and the entire idea that the gods departed had been some form of twisted dream, perhaps even a spell of sorts to hinder his mind and use him for some foul plot. The young elf blinked and found himself gazing up at towering green trees and blue skies while he, himself, lied on a bed mat of some kind covered with a poorly crafted goatskin blanket.
"It is good you are awake my apprentice, I almost worried. You push yourself too quickly and too hard. It is highly unelven of you to do so though that would be only one of many traits that already fit that description," the soft raspy voice sounded from nearby.
The dark elf did not care to comment on the warning nor the taunts and chose, instead, to gather his bearings and lift himself partially with the aid of his elbows. "The orcs?"
"Satisfied with their trade of which you hindered greatly with your presence. Your impatience and distrust cost us at least two chickens I had hoped to acquire."
"And had you spoken of them directly to me before..."
"You would have insisted on going or demanded that I stop the interaction in its entirety out of fear of your enemy, your natural enemies. There is no use denying these truths Dalamar. My hope was to achieve a less fearful and distressed environment for... you." Raistlin's voice was quiet, the last word uttered so softly it was almost inaudible. "The stew has meat today. I know you have little taste for flesh yet it will help you regain your strength."
Dalamar laid his head back down on a pillow with a sigh. What could he say? The fact remained that his outing had proved badly for both of them, regardless of the reasons he departed. "Do they know where we live?"
"No they do not nor will they. Their culture is still primitive and their minds feeble though perhaps not for orcs. Orcs, goblinkind, have few skills in the lore's and tracking. My precautions are well developed Dalamar. Now eat a little," he encouraged gently.
Dalamar turned away from the archmage, his dark eyes partially closed in distress. "I have no appetite."
Raistlin said nothing though the elf could easily hear the soft rustle of the heavy robes. He didn't really care where the human went this time, he only wished for solitude perhaps even a long peaceful slumber of which he was not to awaken.
The coolness of the golden hands on his neck shocked the elf for it was so unexpected and uncharacteristic of the Master of Past and Present. Dalamar could feel the silk white hair glide against his youthful pale skin as the even colder lips pressed against his temple. "All is not lost my apprentice. You have not been abandoned by others or even history. Your deeds, all your deeds, have helped shaped the world as it is."
Dalamar listened to the raspy yet comforting whisper, intoxicated by the herbal spicy scents clinging to this human, the ruminants of the healing tea Raistlin drank daily, and the gentle caressing of the long sure fingers.
"Now," his Shalifi continued. "Is the time to step down. The gods will return yet when even I cannot say. Till then mortals will shape and establish new order, magic, and truths. You may still bear the grace and gift of youth my elven apprentice, but your part in shaping history is at an end, at least for the time being."
Dalamar sat-up again, gazing upwards into the hourglass eyes of his mentor. His peasant's garb clung loosely to his body revealing pale vibrant shoulders, his oily black hair draping like a small waterfall to the moist grass. "Then you would have me remain here, out of sight scavenging for an existence and living in torment of a fear that the orc village and any others like them will discover we are weak and helpless as we are, easy targets. We've no one to turn to save Caremon and Palin yet you deny us even that. Our breed of allies turn foe when you have fallen as far as we have, and the so called "good" would sooner have us tried and hung for crimes than aid us." The despair dwelling deep in his soul surfaced to his voice which was sickening.
"We are not weak," Raistlin whispered with a faint, amused smile twitching at the corners of his mouth while his thin but powerful, dreadful, fingers stoked Dalamar's cheek. "I do not live in fear nor should you. Dalamar, my foolish young apprentice, you see this as a fall from grace, a pitiful existence indeed. Did you truly believe you could end your career peacefully? That amongst thieves, black hearts, betrayers you could hope to find even slight moments of happiness, peace? You would have lost your position to murder or worst eventually. No, my young elf, you do not fear orcs or starving or anything as menial or simple as those fates. We have found a paradise here yet you refuse it quickly for it is here you have found a great fear..."
Dalamar was again captivated by those deep hourglass eyes, the intensity frightening yet the words from the human lips seemed to become soft till the lips stilled and their faces were breaths apart.
"Living," the words came and their kiss began. It was Raistlin's kiss really for the human mage was demanding yet gentle in the same, his spicy tongue exploring Dalamar's depths as the elf moaned despite himself.
They parted, leaving Dalamar breathless and uncertain. "I cannot do this.."
Raistlin laughed softly as his sure fingers glided down the elf's covered chest. "You will if for no other reasons than I wish it."
Dalamar lowered his eyes delicately, shame burning his cheeks. "You did not always desire me." It was almost an accusations, almost.
The human kneeled beside him, the golden fingers now tracing the exposed skin of Dalamar's thighs. "Your beauty is heightened by the poor quality of the garments you wear." Raistlin lowered his tunic just down the elf's shoulders. "My ambition and goals were directed elsewhere before," a faint smile formed once again upon the thin lips.
Dalamar laughed nervously. "The world, the gods themselves, I must seem a small conquest to you."
Raistlin's cold lips nipped gently at the tendons of his prey's neck. "Not a conquest Dalamar, I am merely reclaiming what is mine."
The elf breathed in sharply, the heat following the moisture of his Shalifi's lips unbearable. "I..." He blinked slowly, unable to think clearly nor respond to these strange words that were laid before him. "Yet the women... rumors of your daughter?"
The archmage chuckled then. "Ah yes, rumors of my daughter, one you hoped to take advantage of." The voice was cold again, even deadly. "Surely you do not believe there has been but one."
"Yet men Shalifi... you are?" The very thought was beyond belief.
Raistlin captured the elven lips again, biting the soft skin gently. "Neither man nor woman Dalamar. It is you I want and will take screaming if you do not..."
"Submit," Dalamar managed to finished quietly. "What do you see when your eyes are upon me?" He voiced suddenly, standing smoothly when no answer came. The fact that his tunic fell and escaped him did nothing save cause goose bumps to the elf's mind. "I cannot lie with someone who see me as, as some decaying corpse nor with one who may not be there in a few years breaths."
Raistlin moved behind Dalamar, pulling the weakened figure taught against his warmly robed body. "My sister was doomed to a mortal death and viewed you as little more than an object for her lusts. Where were your hesitations then?"
"And in the end she tried to destroy me within a moments thought," he retorted angrily, bitterly yet did not pull away. Both women died while trying to save the world, one at his side and the other trying to destroy him.
Warm hair graced the pointed ears as the seductive words flowed forth from the skilled tongue. "Your beauty does not escape me nor will I simply fade away in time Dalamar. Remember, I have already died once."
Dalamar shivered at the implications yet smiled slowly. "I guess... guess not. You would truly force me?" Could you, he really wished to know.
"Of course, but I will not have to." The former elven mage was forced to turn and face his would be master who spoke with such confidence, such certainty. "We shaped the world to what it is now, for good or ill. The gods will return in years, decades, perhaps centuries time when they realize their folly, only time will tell. Our place is to remain quiet, out of sight while the world around us progresses. What dragons, heroes, or villains will come of it is none of our affair for if the name Raistlin or Dalamar is uttered which of these would not come for us?"
Dalamar swallowed heavily. "And your notion is to remain here in some cottage at the edge of civilization?"
Raistlin kissed his would be lover gently, teasingly. "Surely you had other dreams, other wishes of art, music, perhaps gardening?"
The dark mane flew as he denied the notion quickly. "It was always the magic, the power. If there was anything else do you truly think I would have risked the rejection of my entire race!" The venom was hot on his tongue, a fact of which he regretted.
The human pulled his head back swiftly, grasping the silky black strands tightly. "Control yourself," Raistlin whispered menacingly. He then threw Dalamar to the ground, all to easily, with surprising strength.
The elf scrambled away, fear racing through his veins for he had nothing evident that told him Raistlin was any less lethal than he had been. He was not able to make it far when Raistlin pulled Dalamar against his body once more, the cool lips returning to his shoulders and neck. "Dalamar, I will not harm you... much," the human whispered.
Dalamar calmed his breathing slowly, his pale fingers gripping the golden wrists tightly. His chest heaved while the dark globes searched his mentor's features. For what he searched for, he could not say. "I have not done this before... with a man," were the words that finally came forth..
Raistlin paused, his sure fingers millimeters from the treasure between Dalamar's inner thighs. The hourglass eyes were unreadable. "All these years, Dalamar, I know you to be one hardly shy or reserved."
He looked away quickly, unable to hold the gaze for long. "Perhaps the opportunity never arose. Yet you... you clearly...?"
"As I stated earlier, you know very little about me my young apprentice."
Dalamar took heart and released his tightening grip slowly, his right hand lifting and grasping Raistlin's neck tentatively. "I don't know if I am ready for this."
Raistlin smiled thinly. "I don't care."
The answer left the elf flustered and very much aroused. When the human bent down and captured his lips this time, Dalamar met him with his own hot passion, his dark eyes closing in quiet acceptance, almost willingness.
Raistlin did not pause from his exploration even as they eagerly explored each others moths. His fingers ran through the silky dark forest around Dalamar's sex, his lips curling when the young elf moaned beautifully beneath him. Somehow, the once Master of Past and Present managed to disrobe himself while leaving the elf's body lacking attention for but moments. "I want you on your knees apprentice," came the low command when their kiss finally parted.
Trembling, Dalamar complied, turning his body and presenting himself in the graceful fashion demanded of him. His cheeks were a dark crimson in embarrassment as he quivered beneath the gentle exploration he could no longer see but which left their fiery trails down the slope of his back, over his rear, and in between his legs. Raistlin petted him leisurely, kissing his shoulders while his fingers created their own magic over his hardening pinks nubs. It was as if Dalamar's body were not his own, dancing to the intoxicating rhymes of his Shalifi's wishes. He lowered his head gasping softly beneath his silky curtain as the fingers ran the length of his hard member, fingers that tested the weights of his sacs and lingered in all the right places. Then, there was moisture against his pointed elven ears even as Raistlin spoke. "It will burn in the beginning," he promised darkly.
And burn it did. The fire that came with the firm impalement of his dominant was unlike anything else he had felt before. Dalamar's shoulders sagged as he whimpered from the pain and the overwhelming sensation of being filled with another male's body. He felt the terrifying now comforting fingers stroke his head encouragingly when the thrusts began, heightening the heat of his inner being. Perhaps Raistlin was whispering his name gently and kissing his neck. Dalamar was uncertain for he was completely lost in the rising sea of pleasure drowning his rational thought and other senses. The heated pain slowly became drawn out pleasure as his Shalifi caressed his inner body, the weight of his lover warm and welcoming if a bit dangerous. The elf realized he was helpless beneath his archmage, and felt all the more passion for it.
"That's it," the raspy voice finally broke through the cloud of sensations. "Most delightful."
The praise sent Dalamar's spirits soaring, a silly thing really for he was never one to need the acceptance and grace of others. His fingers grasped the long moist grass beneath his palm tightly as the wizard increased his pace gradually, the thrusts deepening to where he could feel the sacs slap intriguingly against his inner thighs and rear. This submission, which would have caused him great pain before and grief left him feeling not dirty or again a being of some lower social ranking, but claimed perhaps treasured, dare he say loved? Raistlin's fingers curled under the strong youthful neck before him, pulling his head back firmly while he surged forward rapidly, small pleasurable gasps escaping the human's lips as well. "You have purpose my apprentice, once more at my side and in the dark realms of magic only I can lead you." Strong golden fingers now clasped his elven member tightly, stroking him rhythmically to their panting.
Dalamar whimpered again, softly, this time out of pleasure as his body trembled in want of more sensation. The sweet and fragrant sweat of his body mingled nicely with the open air, so unlike the sick moisture that his body had sported not long ago. The dirt pressed cruelly against his knees as they moved together vibrantly, a dull ache that only added to the impossible pleasure he swam in.
To feel the hot seed spew into his body as he did was an eternal bliss, one that even if he were to live out the long years his people were given, he would not easily forget. It was hot and surprising, causing a startled gasp from deep within his throat. His body took control and bucked lightly causing his Shalifi to laugh huskily behind him which did not shame him though he burned from light embarrassment. If their enemies were to see him now... even his dark queen...
Raistlin nipped at his pointed ears again gently, sucking the light skin as he emptied himself into his property while squeezing and pumping Dalamar's pulsing organ. "Release yourself, my elven apprentice, for me." the raspy voice commanded.
Dalamar obeyed unable to do anything else and with a soft cry came, thrusting his hips forward passionately as his sweet essence sprinkled the hungry ground.
They remained together long after each had softened, one because he was partially frightened of breaking the fragile, tranquil union they had found, the other simply allowing his youthful lover his thoughts and times.
Raistlin withdrew at last, his soft member slipping from the moist entrance slowly while his golden hand lingered a few moments more over the smooth buttocks he had newly awakened to passion. "If I wished you to remain thus, you would." Dalamar did not deny this fact and merely relaxed his sore body, sinking to the ground with spent desire and contentment. Once again, he lowered his head, allowing his dark beautiful hair to shield his face and closed dark eyes. Then, his chin was lifted gently by the strong hand he grown to love and cherish rather than fear and allow to haunt his dreams. "You must dress Dalamar for the air is cold and will whittle away at your strength in your weakened state."
The dark elf nodded after a moment, not wanting to pull away from the palm that now cupped his cheek, but he did. He stood on unsteady legs and gathered his peasant's garb to his body and dressed in silence, at a loss for words.
Raistlin dressed as well and when he was finished, he went to Dalamar's side, pulling his trembling companion into his arms. The human then led them to the base of a tree where they lay together, Dalamar in his warm arms and watching the sky as his Shalifi spoke softly, in his raspy voice that now seemed more pleasant than before. "We will rest here awhile longer and then return home."
The elf sighed with a light smile, perhaps his first real smile in sometime.
"This reminds me a little of my homeland. Perhaps, perhaps there is some
hope here after all."
-Please let me Know what you think- Paladin
-Please let me Know what you think- Paladin
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