Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

Nocturnale	By : Skullbearer Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1934 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the book(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Shadow Valkyrie: -speechless- I... thank you... I can't tell you how great it is when someone tells you something like this. It's readers like yourself like this that make this story really worth telling, because I'm not writing for myself anymore.
Dalamar Nightson: Hope you'll enjoy this better.
Tsukiyo no Yume: Yep, Dragons of an Hourglass mage, out July 2008. You don't have to wait that long though, there's a new story out- Dragons of Dwarven Depths, it's pure fanservice with a lot of Raistlin :)
Dracoqueen22: More yum here. Thanks.
x.PawPrints.x: As I said, here you go.
ksha: Thanks ;).
Again, sorry for the delay, and many hugs to everyone who reviewed and particularly to my beta Chetwynd.

Nocturnale
Chapter ten: To Relieve
Burn, burn the station
We'll burn it down
Burn, burn the truth
Enjoy the flames
In celebration
Enjoy the sound
For us, for them, for you
-Burn Burn, Lost Prophets.
Sparks flew between Dalamar's fingers, the unmistakable prelude to a spell. The gathering flecks of magic shone brightly in the dim room, lighting up the Dark elf's eyes and his smirking, sinister grin. As confident as he looked, however, the spell had taken a moment too long to cast and Raistlin ducked, dodging under the lightning bolt that soared over his head to smash into the far wall, sending embers flying in all directions.
The stench of ozone filled the air and Dalamar gasped, forcing air into his straining lungs, the exertion of casting was catching up with him and he heard the Red Robe choke back a cough. Seizing the initiative, he raised his hands to weave a new spell. The bolt flew true this time, but was blocked by Raistlin. The human mage's eyes burnt with menace as the spell ricocheted off, forcing the elf to duck to avoid it.
"Damn you!" Dalamar roared, his bravado concealing his own weariness. Tired or not, magic still danced around his hands, and he was far from finished. "I will have you yet!"
Raistlin sneered at the Dark elf, and wove a spell of his own, /"Bentuk khalayan laksana, tanda api sihir!"/
A blast of fire shot from his hands towards Dalamar. The elf tried to dodge out of the way, but the exhaustion of casting slowed his reflexes. The flaming bolt struck home and he reeled back, crying out as his robes caught fire. Laughter rang around the room as he threw himself to the ground, rolling to put out the flames.
Robes still smouldering, the Dark elf got back to his feet, shaking a fist at Raistlin while holding his tattered clothing together with his other hand. "I'll get you yet! Today or tomorrow, this is not over!"
The red wizard laughed sarcastically in response, giving the furious elf a mocking bow as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
The door led to a corridor, which in turn led to the bedrooms. Dalamar paused in the passageway, then leant against the wall, flicking a hand to dispel the illusion. The damage on his robe faded out, leaving it untouched.
He smiled, it had been Raistlin's idea to set themselves up as entertainers -when the mage had been younger he'd often used his skill with illusions to gain money- but it had been Dalamar's to set themselves up as rivals in their performances. The Red Robe had been pleased when the usually reserved Dark elf had offered to help, and the idea had proved to be a good one, adding an exciting edge to their shows. Everything had been done to be as flashy and ostentatious as possible, from performances where they tried to outdo each other with ever more elaborate illusions, to -like today- actual duels using illusory magic rather than actually battle-spells. As they both knew perfectly well how to use magic in combat, these last were very realistic and thus, extremely popular. It was no surprise that many of the patrons started staging bets on the outcome of these confrontations. William Sweetwater had allowed the gambling, as long as he and the performers received a cut of the profits. Their show had ended up being so popular in fact, that it attracted the attention of not only the people of Balifor, but also that of the occupying Dragon Highlord's troops. As disturbing as it was to perform in front of a room full of draconians, Dalamar expected such attention was doubly useful. Not only did the creatures pay (and bet) well, the more well known their show became, the easier it would be to travel though the lands occupied by the Dragonarmies.
They had been in Balifor for about three weeks, a time which had proven a desperately needed rest after the horrors that had plagued them. It was blessedly peaceful here, the only excitement being the performances they put on everyday, and nothing to do but study their spellbooks and count the money rolling in. Soon, they would have enough not only to travel -Tanis was actually talking about buying a wagon-, but also to buy passage on a ship bound north when they arrived at the port of Flotsam, where the innkeeper knew a captain who could take them.
It was difficult to remain vigilant when everything was so calm and going so well. The others generally avoided them and even Caramon had decided that Tika's company was far preferable to his brother's. More than that, there had been no sign of what had happened to Raistlin in Silvanesti, whatever -or /who/ever- it had been was gone. Dalamar clung to the hope that it had been tied into the Nightmare, and that the longer it was since that horrible episode, the less power it would have. It took a great deal of self-control not to give in and return to the intimacies they had both missed, but the Dark elf reminded himself that however safe they might feel, Raistlin had still not been able to scrape enough control to speak of the subject without collapsing into a coughing fit.
As hard as it had been to resist even before they had started these performances, now the tension seemed nearly unbearable. There was no chance to avoid each other, they had to be together so much. Before the show -to plan it out, during it- in the whip-lash delight of the magic and afterwards. It was better if they were exhausted then, and the most they wanted was to curl up in a corner and sleep, but more often -like today- the blood-fire of casting stayed with them, and it was pure torture to stay together. It would have been easier to hold back if it was so clear why, but with nearly a month since Silvanesti and no sign of the dead presence that had terrified him, it was harder to be afraid of something he couldn't see than something he could. But even that would have been enough for him to control himself -the memory of the Nightmare and what came after was still enough to make his skin crawl- if not for the way Raistlin was acting.
The human mage might have understood his fear, but seemed to feel it was unfounded. He appeared confident that what had overcome him in Silvanesti was gone, or at least under control. He had none of Dalamar's reluctance, and, like the elf, had clearly missed sleeping together. Worse, he knew Dalamar missed it too.
The Dark elf felt his face flush at the memory, the sudden realisation that Raistlin had overheard him, had heard him calling his name while in the throes of his own pleasure.
The human’s arguments, combined with the waning for his own doubts and their constant proximity, were quickly wearing down his resistance. What was the point of staying apart like this? Even if there was a relapse, would Dalamar be any safer sleeping in a different bed rather than in his arms? And Gods! He had missed being together. It wasn't just desire that was wearing down his defences, but a longing to regain the simple intimacy they had shared. The occasional kisses they shared, how Raistlin would absent-mindedly touch him -a hand on his neck, a brush along his arm, occasionally leaning against him-, or the way he sometimes touched the red mage, just for the pleasure of laying his hands on his lover. All of this had become so commonplace that he barely noticed them anymore, and were only now remarkable by their absence.
And now, with his blood burning from the recent spellcasting and his doubts in tatters, was not the best time to meet with Raistlin. Even after the performance he'd had to force down the urge to pin the human mage against a wall and kiss him senseless, probably not stopping there. Dalamar swallowed as the reverie shot a bolt of lust through him.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the door opened again and Raistlin stepped through, carrying two glasses of the inn's slightly bitter wine. He smiled when he saw the Dark elf, and the black-robed wizard smiled back, the expression more than a little strained. The human looked little better than he did, and had even less control. His skin shone brassy and his hourglass eyes glittered topaz, pupils dilated like a cat's. Dalamar took the glass Raistlin handed to him and swallowed a mouthful, wetting his suddenly dry mouth. He felt the mage's eyes on him as he drank, feeling his skin burn under the eager scrutiny. Lowering his glass, he turned to return the other wizard’s stare.
Raistlin just smiled, not at all bothered to be caught staring. He took a sip from his own glass, teasingly licking his gold-stained lips for any stray drops.
Dalamar's hand closed around the stem of his glass hard enough to snap it.
The Red Robe smiled again and took another swallow, then coughed as the exertion of spellcasting caught up with him. Almost instinctively, Dalamar reached out to hold him steady as the spasms shook the frail mage.
The attack was a short one, and soon passed. Raistlin ran a hand over his face, then closed it around Dalamar's arm as the Dark elf made to pull away. The teasing look was gone, replaced by a strange smile. The exile tried to pull back again, but his companion didn't let go, actually stepping closer. For a moment he didn't speak, just looking at the Dark elf, his eyes almost burning through him.
Dalamar met his gaze; he knew how much his lover liked simply looking at him, the only beauty in his world of decay. He opened his mouth to speak, but Raistlin pressed a finger against his lips, forestalling him and making him start as though the touch had been a brand. The emotions he had struggled to bank resurfaced tenfold and he shivered. Then the finger slipped away and was replaced by warm lips.
Dalamar's wine glass hit the floor with a sharp retort.
The Dark elf shuddered, mouth opening against Raistlin's. The human mage's slight weight pressed into him, pushing him against the wall. Dimly, he heard the other glass shattering next to his own, before the red wizard’s tongue slid into his mouth, and all coherent thought was abruptly cut off.
It was too sweet, too tempting, the fire in his veins fanning to a white-hot lust that made him shake with desire, hands slipping hungrily under Raistlin's thin robes, golden skin burning against his fingertips.
The mouth left him, only to close of the tip of his left ear, drawing a hungry moan from the Dark elf's lips. Raistlin's hands clenched in his hair, drawing his head back to trail messy kisses down his throat. Dalamar groaned again, one hand knotting in the human's white hair, pulling his head up.
He was about to lean in to kiss Raistlin again, to burn away his doubts in the fever-heat of the mage's body, but the human pressed one hand on his chest, holding him back. "Quite a change in attitude, don't you think?" he asked conversationally, the lust in his eyes betraying his light words. "Does that mean you trust me now?"
Dalamar swallowed, licking dry lips. "Who can we trust?" he sneered. "Our very worst enemies are ourselves. We're surrounded by danger, so why torture ourselves just to avoid a little more?"
By the look on Raistlin's face, this wasn't the answer he'd been hoping for. But it didn't matter, because the Dark elf’s lips closed on his own and all thought flowed to nothing. All focus of the slide and grasp of their tongues and teeth, open-mouthed kisses seeking to devour each other, hands dragging them ever-closer.
Raistlin groaned, one hand lost in the Dark elf's hair, the other sliding down his back, under his robes. They were so close that their bodies were crushed together, so close that Dalamar could feel his lover’s heart beating, feel his muscles strain to get closer still, feel the aching heat pressed again his own, rocking against his and making him gasp.
"I missed you," Dalamar groaned, almost begging as his hands tightened on Raistlin's shoulders. "I need you--Gods! I love you. Please-- tell me if you-- if this--"
"Yes," the human whispered in the Dark elf's ear, licking along the sensitive edge.
Dalamar groaned again, and gripped him tighter, nails digging in hard enough to draw blood.
"Please."
The soft plea was almost enough to undo him completely. The dark wizard twisted his head and smashed his lips against Raistlin's, pinning the slight mage against the wall with all the pent-up frustration of the last few days.
The human broke the kiss, lifting his head to gasp in air, shivering. "Bed," he choked out.
Dalamar hesitated, the old dread returning with shocking suddenness, his desire abating at the memory of those dead eyes. Then the thought faded and he was looking at Raistlin -golden eyes bright, skin slick with sweat, lips swollen-, hungry and aroused and brilliantly alive. The fear vanished like a snowflake in dragonfire and the Dark elf kissed him again, slowly and thoroughly, lazily exploring the human mage's willing, eager mouth. He then pulled away, only the plant a quick kiss between Raistlin's eyes. His lover smiled, licked his swollen lips, and took Dalamar's hand in his, pulling him towards the stairs.
The Dark elf let him. It had been foolish to torture themselves like this, and he could never resist Raistlin when he offered himself like this. Let them forget fear and pain for a while, Nuitari only knew they needed to. Let whatever would happen, happen. He would be ready. They both would be.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once in the now chilly room, Dalamar dropped back on the bed, pulling Raistlin down on top of him, his fingers snagging and pulling at the human's red robes. It had been too long, he wanted to feel him, skin to skin. The memory of what had already happened here -the twisted pleasure of hearing his lover touch himself and the rather sickening knowledge that he had been overheard- only added fuel to the fire.
Clothing was removed hastily, and Dalamar thought he heard something rip. It didn't matter, these were old robes and it was hard to care about anything right now save the burning need that filled his body. At last, when their robes were removed and their boots kicked off, the elf rolled over and pinned Raistlin under him, sighing with delight at the touch of the human's bare skin, soft and burning against his own.
The red mage bucked up against him, hands reaching up to snatch in the Dark elf's hair, pulling him down to kiss him, biting hard on his lower lip. Dalamar groaned, and pinned him down firmly, knees on either side of Raistlin's hips. He took the time to gaze over his lover, enjoying with his eyes what he would soon be enjoying with his body. He shivered when his lover’s hands stroked up his inner thighs tightening on the muscles and the sensitive skin. Dalamar shifted his weight to his left arm and ran his right hand over Raistlin chest, raking over the thin golden skin and too-prominent ribs. This time it was the human’s turn to shiver as the elf's nails left white lines along his torso, then his body jerked up as the silvanesti leant down and followed the trail with his tongue, first lapping at a collarbone, easing down to nip playfully at a nipple, smiling against the smouldering skin as Raistlin's hands knotted in his hair again, trying to force him further down. Dalamar ignored the human's insistent hands, and took his time, kissing his way down to Raistlin's hips, biting gently against the sensitive skin. The human groaned, hands tightening almost painfully in his companion’s hair, and the Dark elf could feel Raistlin's erection pressing against his chin, but just grinned and slid back up, brushing teasingly against him as he went back up.
The Dark elf thought he heard Raistlin's jaw creak as the human mage gritted his teeth. His smile only broadened at the look of frustrated hunger on Raistlin's face, and he kissed the tip of his nose.
The human mage scowled, opened his mouth to speak, only to shudder and suddenly dissolve into a fit of coughing.
Dalamar froze, then mentally kicked himself. What else did he expect? The performance had been draining for both of them; Raistlin had already had one attack and hadn't drunk his tea afterwards. What with the cold temperature of the room, it was only surprising that he hadn't succumbed earlier.
Trying to ignore his own all too present arousal, the elf sat up and pulled his lover into his arms, pulling a blanket from the end of the bed and wrapping it around his shaking shoulders. He slid one arm around Raistlin's back to keep the blanket in place but kept the other underneath, rubbing soothing circles against his lover's back.
The spasm was a bad one; Raistlin's fingers knotted painfully into his back as it shook him, coughing harshly into the Dark elf's chest. Dalamar was starting to feel the first icy tendrils of fear when the fit finally eased off. The human collapsed against his shoulder, struggling to draw breath as the tension left his still-trembling body. The Dark elf stayed still, letting his lover lean against him as long as he needed, his fingers easing the cramped muscles in the human's chest, and after a little while Raistlin's breathing evened out.
"Feeling better?" he whispered.
Raistlin swallowed then nodded, wiping his lips with the back of his hand before sitting back, drawing the blanket more tightly around his shoulders.
Dalamar kept one hand on him, kneading his shoulders, the other dipped in the flecks of blood staining his chest.
The Red Robe wiped his mouth self-consciously. "I'm sorry," he croaked.
The Dark elf shook his head, half fondly, half exasperated -how could Raistlin think he would be angry about something like this?- then kissed the human firmly to cut off any more words. It was a strange feeling to do so, to taste Raistlin's blood on his tongue, the metallic tang overlaying the familiar taste of his lover. The red wizard sighed into his mouth, relaxing against him as the Dark elf's arms slid around him again, caressing up and down his spine, dispelling the residual pain.
Dalamar took his time, ignoring the slowly reawakening fire in his lower belly, first stroking Raistlin's back, then his neck, then finally pulling his white hair aside to press his lips against the tender skin, suckling and biting to raise a scarlet mark. The human gave a soft moan, and the silvanesti noticed he wasn't the only one regaining interest in the proceedings. Encouraged, he nuzzled his lover’s throat again, his hands sliding down under the blanket to touch and grope.
Raistlin pushed him away, stifling a tired yawn and shaking his head with an apologetic expression.
Dalamar smiled, his companion’s coughing fits always drained the human mage, but there was no reason why he couldn't still enjoy this. "Relax," he purred. "Just lie and down rest. Feel. Enjoy."
Raistlin lifted a feathery eyebrow, then obeyed, lying down on his stomach, keeping his blanket drawn tightly around him. Dalamar didn't remove it, to do so would only tempt another spasm and he was getting cold anyway. He added two more blankets to the human’s nest before sliding in himself. He felt Raistlin shiver at the sudden intrusion of cold air, then relax. The Dark elf kissed the nape of his neck, and pressed himself closer, indulging in the delicious feeling of his lover's body against him. Slowly, he started sliding down, nipping at the ticklish spot between Raistlin's shoulder blades, moving down to bite the soft skin at the small of his back. Raistlin stretched luxuriously, rubbing his face against the pillow in a cat-like motion.
Dalamar rubbed his cheek against Raistlin's side, feeling the sharp edges of his ribcage against his face. "You need to eat more," he teased, tickling his ribs playfully as he made his way back up.
Raistlin turned his head to look at him, and was rewarded with a soft kiss against his lips. The human mage broke the kiss with a gasp as Dalamar reached down pushed one finger inside him. The Dark elf smiled as Raistlin's breathing quickened, feeling him struggling to relax against the intimate intrusion. A second finger, then a third, and the human was shaking as hard as he had from the coughing fit. The silvanesti trailed soft kisses up his back and neck, trying to distracting him the pain that inevitably accompanied this. To help with this, he curled his fingers inside his lover’s body, seeking out and touching the place inside him that always made the human mage see stars. It worked perfectly, Raistlin cried out, trembling even harder and driving back against the fingers that were slowly splitting him open. Dalamar laughed, then twisted him fingers again. He knew how much pain his friend lived with and it delighted him to be able to help him forget it, if only for a while. Again, this was a success, Raistlin's breath came out in a low groan and his fingers knotted in the sheets. Dalamar wondered if the shimmering in his lover's golden eyes was a trick of the light, but either way, enough teasing.
A second gasp tore itself free from Raistlin's throat as Dalamar withdrew his fingers, wiping them on a corner of the blanket before moving until he was behind the human. His fingers closed on his lover's hips and drew him up, smiling as Raistlin pressed himself against him, allowing his better access to his body.
This time it was Dalamar's turn to cry out as he thrust smoothly inside Raistlin's body, burying himself up to the hilt in tight, burning flesh. The Dark elf's breath came in pants. It felt too good, it had been too long. The human twisted his head around, his eyes smouldering as hot as his mouth as Dalamar kissed him, hot, savage, wonderful. Tongue and teeth and Raistlin sweat-slick body bucking against and around his until he couldn't tell where he left off and the other began.
It was just as well his body knew what to do because if it had been up to him Dalamar would have happily stayed like this forever, entangled and entwined with the taste of Raistlin's blood still hot in his mouth. He started moving without conscious thought, thrusting rhythmically into the human, feeling his lover's body jerk and shiver beneath him.
He was saying something, he wasn't too sure what, only that this felt so good and he loved Raistlin so much, his lips brushing against the human mage's ear.
Raistlin was close to the edge, that was easy to tell even in his lust-blinded state. His lover's thin muscles were involuntarily tightening and relaxing, as thought tearing apart from the sheer pleasure. Dalamar unclenched one hand and reached under the human’s body to stroke him in time to his thrusts. He saw Raistlin's mouth open, soundlessly shaping words that never escaped his trembling lips. Vaguely, the Dark elf wondered if it was sweat or tears making the tracks down the glittering skin of his lover's face, and kissed him firmly. Dalamar's fingers tightened harder around his lover's erection, thumb swirling his thumb over slick head and Raistlin lost control, twisting violently under him. The silvanesti swallowed his cry as he came, slick and hot between his clenched fingers. His body snapped taut under the force of his release and Dalamar threw his head back in a silence scream as the muscles surrounding him tightened to the point of pain. It was enough to push him over the edge, liquid fire pooling and bursting into Raistlin's body as they both collapsed back on the mattress.
Dalamar rolled off the human mage; every inch of skin felt over-sensitive, every contact sending shivers of fire through him. Still shaking, he spooned up against Raistlin, pulling him closer still and burying his face in his white hair. The human’s hand closed over his, the other coming up to stroke his hair.
The Dark elf nuzzled the back of his lover's neck, surprised as a few tears slipped from his eyes, a long overdue release. Ignoring the wetness of his cheeks, he kissed Raistlin's lips, unsurprised at the taste of salt. He smiled, and kissed him again. "I love you," he sighed happily, revelling in the closeness he had feared lost forever. "Never leave me."
Raistlin reached up and pulled him down until Dalamar's head was resting on his chest. "Never."
And Dalamar knew he meant it.

Skull Bearer.
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Nocturnale