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Ice and Steel	By : Skullbearer Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 3083 -:- 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
- 11
- 12
- 13
In which the proverbial shit hits the fan, family ties are burnt to ashes and Tanis and Sturm have a shouting match
Death and Disaster
I want to take his eyes out
Just for looking at you
Yes I do
I want to take his hands off
Just for touching you
Yes I do
Nickelback, Just For.
-----------------------------------Raistlin's POV---------------------------------
The rest of the winter was oddly warm, but that brought no comfort to anyone. Indeed, many would have rather huddled around a fire as they had in previous years.
The uncommonly mild weather was blamed for the plague that had swept through the town that winter, claiming many lives of its inhabitants.
When the snows came to Solace they were much later than usual, and when they came, the snowflakes settled on the many new graves marring the ground.
Meggin, the old crone whom many considered mad, thrust the basin in Raistlin's direction.
Raistlin sighed quietly and surreptitious rolled his eyes the old woman's certainty that washing you hands prevented contacting the plague was exasperating. Had it been anyone else (save maybe Dalamar) he would have told them exactly what they could do with the basin. However, Meggin (called Weird Meggin by many), had been the one who had taught Raistlin herb lore and he liked the old woman, so he took the proffered basin and set it down to wash his hands.
They were standing in the threshold of Sturm's house, the patient had been his mother. Had been, because she had just died.
Raistlin stood, bid Meggin farewell, and left the house; walking out into what was rapidly becoming a blizzard. Shielding his face with one arm Raistlin groped for the handrail and started making his way back along the walkways to his own house, ducking under the overhanging braches whenever possible to get his bearings.
It was a relief to get back, Raistlin thought, taking off his sodden cloak and hanging it beside the fireplace in the kitchen. The house was empty, Caramon was probably out comforting Sturm and Dalamar would be back soon enough, nobody could dig graves in this weather.
Raistlin picked up the poker and stoked up the fire. He picked up the spellbook he had left on the table earlier the last evening when Caramon had run in and called that Raistlin had better come and see to Sturm's mother, who had gotten much worse, he hadn't been back until now.
Still mulling over the events of the day, Raistlin drew the old rocking chair from it's place by the window and placed it in front of the fire. Seating himself in it, he stared into the fire, lost in his own thoughts.
Some time later the door opened, letting in blast of icy air and a drift of snowflakes. Raistlin didn't notice, he'd fallen asleep.
A cold hand dropped on his shoulder and Raistlin jumped, snapping awake.
Dalamar smiled behind a mask of dirt and snow; he was filthy, covered in mud and with snowflakes melting in his hair and robes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"Your hands are freezing," Raistlin was still half asleep and feeling deliciously warm.
Dalamar drew a rickety kitchen chair up beside Raistlin's, shrugging out of his cloak. "I was kept out all day in this. No one else can be found to dig the graves, they're all too afraid of catching the plague."
As the plague effected only humans, Dalamar had been immune to it's ravages. He'd spent the past few weeks trying to convince Raistlin to stay indoors and stay safe, while Caramon might have been strong enough to throw off the fever, Raistlin wasn't.
It had been a fruitless argument, Raistlin continued venturing out to help Meggin tend to the sick.
His fears had been in vain anyway, the young mage was untouched by the sickness.
Dalamar joined Raistlin beside the warm blaze as the snow fell outside.
----------------------------Festival of Spring Dawning----------------------------
For years afterwards, Raistlin had said that you couldn't have found anything better to round off what had been a thoroughly dreadful six months than what the Festival of Spring Dawning brought.
Caramon had been hiding something, Raistlin had known this since they had come back from Haven, but between the plague, the cold and their work, he hadn't thought the subject worth broaching.
Now, in the early evening following what had been an unusually pleasant Spring celebration, Raistlin was wondering if that may not have been a mistake.
He and Dalamar had been heading towards Crystalmir lake for a welcome respite from the merrymaking when they ran into Caramon, Tanis, Sturm and Flint under the Inn of the Last Home.
All four seemed far too solemn for the Spring Dawning celebration, everyone the two mages had passed so far seemed either euphoric, drunk or both.
Raistlin glanced at the all-too serious face of his twin brother, and felt his insides knot up, what was going on?
He had just opened his mouth to give his bewilderment voice when he was interrupted.
"Hey guys!" A breathless and most definatly unwelcome voice broke through the blanket of tension that had settled over the six of them. "I looked everywhere but I couldn't find Raistlin- Oh there you are, see Tanis, you didn't have to send me running around Solace, you guys found Raistlin by yourselves-"
Tasslehoff rushed over to the group, panting. The kender caught his breath then looked from one unsmiling face to another. "Oh." Tas bit his lip, "We're telling them, aren't we?"
Tanis gave a brisk nod.
Well, if Raistlin had been feeling uneasy before, he was now certain that something was seriously wrong.
Caramon broke in, addressing himself not to Raistlin, but to Dalamar. "We know what you're doing."
Dalamar raised one eyebrow, to nearly everyone he looked unbothered by the tension but Raistlin could see the worry behind his eyes.
"He's been using you, Raist," Caramon turned to Raistlin. "He doesn't really care about you, he's just using you to get what he wants."
"We've been over this-" Raistlin started, becoming irritated, was this what Caramon wanted? To rehash a stupid argument?
"Not about this." Caramon said ominously, "I bet Dalamar didn't tell you what he did before coming to Solace did he?"
What Dalamar did? What the hell is he...Oh no, wait a minute....
"I'm not surprised," Caramon said, mistaking Raistlin's expression for one of bewilderment; "It's not very nice, we found a man in Haven who knew Dalamar when he lived in Tarsis. Raist, he's a whore, the man told me; said 'he'd do anything for a bit of coin, that Dark elf', even sell himself to strangers!" Caramon gave Dalamar a sideways glance.
"That's what he's doing here Raist, he's just using you so he can get some steel from you. You can't trust him! He's a Dark elf and a whore and he just wants you to get money from you. Please Raist, he just wants to hurt you. He's not worth getting hurt for."
Raistlin stared at Caramon, He felt like his brother had just punched him. How...
Dalamar had gone white, his eyes like fragments of frosted steel, face expressionless. Only his hands betrayed inner turmoil, clenched and shaking.
He turned and walked stiffly away, vanishing into the trees.
"You see!" Caramon accused, "He knows we're telling the truth!"
It was at that moment that Raistlin lost control, a roiling mass of absolute loathing exploded into his mind.
An intensely private person, this prying in his life sent Raistlin into a burning fury.
However they had found this out, the use they'd put the knowledge to was unmistakable.
They were trying to interfere with his life. His life! More than that, he realized, stomach knotting; Dalamar probably thought he was the one who had told them!
Dalamar, Gods, he was going to be in a state. Raistlin was still very much in the dark about this part of the Dark elf's history, but he knew enough to understand that Dalamar had trusted the young mage a lot to tell him this.
Raistlin lifted his head, and all of them, even Flint, involuntarily took a step back.
The hate in the mage's face was absolute, eyes cold as Stygian ice. He looked, for a moment, terrifying; seeming to tower over even Caramon.
He stood there, silent for a moment, letting his eyes and expression convey what he felt, then spoke.
"I know."
Caramon blinked, "What."
Raistlin clenched his teeth and snarled "I knew that already, Caramon, Dalamar told me long ago."

As the group was rendered momentarily speechless, Raistlin straightened up and lifted his hands, speaking two words.
A blast of flame exploded from his hands, magic flickered and the air filled with the smell of burnt skin and singed hair as the 'burning hands' spell caught Caramon, Flint, Tanis, Tasslehoff and Sturm full in the face.
Then Raistlin threw them one last look of loathing, turned on his heel and stalked after Dalamar.
It took a while for the cries of pain to die down behind him.
*************************Tanis' POV********************
"I said this was a bad idea from the start!" Tanis yelled at Caramon through a face blackened by soot.
Caramon didn't answer, he was still staring in shock at the place his brother had been, ignoring the welts and burns caused by the burning hands spell.
"Agh!" Flint screamed. "My beard!"
His beard had been set alight, he was trying to put it out and was burning his hands.
Sturm was grimacing in pain, he'd thrown a arm up to protect his eyes and it had been badly seared. "Your brother's gone mad." He said to Caramon. He was especially angry because Raistlin's spell had burnt off his mustache.
Tasslehoff said nothing for once, he was trying to put the flames in his clothes and topknot out.
Tanis was furious, primarily with himself for being dragged into this plot in the first place.
He knew inside it wasn't right to be blaming Caramon like this but he wasn't listening to reason at the moment.
"Gods, what else do you expect he would do when we've not only invaded his privacy but made public a secret like that one?"
Sturm snarled back, "It's alright to talk now, isn't it Tanis? But I didn't catch you saying anything while we were spying on them! Remember that you're the one who found most of this out and stop blaming Caramon!"
"Blaming Caramon? This was the dumbest plot I've ever heard of! We're all to blame for this one!"
"And who came up with the plot? I heard Tasslehoff chattering about 'this great plan Tanis thought of', so don't start blaming us for something you engineered!"
Flint, who had managed to smother the flames in his beard, interposed himself between the two. "Both of you calm down! You're acting worse than kender! It's all very well to say what we should have done now when everything's gone wrong. Facts are, no one said anything. Reorx! I should have; if only to save my beard from that damn spell-"
Tasslehoff, clothes still smoldering and topknot several inches shorter, piped up; "That was a great spell! I've never seen it before- no, I did, Dalamar used it when we were rescuing Raistlin, I bet that's where he got it from. I just wish it hadn't burnt my hair, I liked it long-"
"I...he..." Caramon was still speechless, still staring horror-struck at the place where Raistlin had stood. "He just...."
Tanis grimaced. Oh, this was going to go badly...
Facts were, he saw them now, Raistlin had been slowly breaking ties with his twin for just over a year now. Tanis didn't know why Raistlin had been so gentle about it, probably as some sort of 'thank-you' to Caramon for looking after him for so many years, not to mention that Raistlin himself needed to get used to not having his twin around.
Whatever the reason, Caramon was going to be in for a rough few months, Raistlin's spell had done more than scorch his face and burn off Sturm's mustaches, it had burnt the rest of the family ties between the twins, leaving nothing but bitter smoke in its wake.
Raistlin wouldn't mind, Tanis thought bitterly, he had Dalamar to turn to and rely on. But who did Caramon have? They were his friends, but they could never take Raistlin's place.
"But..." Caramon was still incapable to string a coherent sentence together. "Tanis...You said..."
Tanis rubbed his forehead, face facts, he'd screwed up badly. "I'm sorry Caramon, I didn't think-"
"No, you didn't!" Sturm flared up again, the Solamnic was still sore about the loss of his mustaches and was lashing at the nearest and most deserving target. "You didn't think at all!"
Tanis felt the anger he'd swallowed well up again. "And neither did you! None of us really thought did we? Yes, I never thought of what would happen if Raistlin already knew about Dalamar's past, but who would expect a Dark elf to lay open his soul like that?"
A Dark elf.
Tanis felt sick.
After all these years fighting the prejudices of so many people, here he was doing exactly the same thing! Here he was, a Half-elf, deciding that because Dalamar was a Black robed magic user, then he would automatically do everything for the worst reasons.
Dalamar had lived here for an entire year, and Tanis had never seen him do anything that so much as brushed the law. Tasslehoff had broken more laws in a single afternoon than Dalamar had done in his entire stay in Solace, but that was alright, because Tas was a kender, and everyone knows kender mean no harm. But Dalamar, no. His motives must always be dark, never mind if he's never broken the law, hurt anyone or done anything, he has to have a sinister agenda because he's a Dark elf.
Well done Tanis, you're a bloody idiot.

The one thing better than putting Tanis in his place is to have Tanis put himself in his place. Ugh, that's one character that really irritates me, yes you're a half-elf, yes you don't really fit in; cry me a river, build a bridge and get over it!
Skull Bearer.
- 11
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- 13
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Ice and Steel