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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
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- 2
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Nocturnale
Chapter two- To Support
These and those
No one knows
No One Knows, Queens of the Stone Age

Raistlin shot a glance at Dalamar, trying to gauge his lover's emotions. Had anyone else tried, they would not have seen much, but after almost seven years, Raistlin was adept at seeing through the shield of forced impassivity the Dark elf projected when he was in pain.
The human mage reached out and his hand closed around the Silvanesti’s arm above the elbow. The Dark elf looked around dully and tried to smile, failing miserably. Raistlin didn't speak, words would be trite and pitying; instead he turned to face Dalamar, touching one finger under the elf's chin to urge him to meet his eyes.
The dark-robed wizard looked up and turned away, eyes drifting listlessly to the hills beyond which the city of Tarsis stood, then closing with a sigh.
Raistlin slid his hand up the side of his lover's face, then drew the Dark elf's head down, pulling him closer, offering himself in soundless support. He held him there for a few moments, until the brittle stiffness in Dalamar's body dissolved. The exile gave a second, heartbroken sigh and relaxed, resting his head against his companion’s shoulder. The human mage smiled sadly as his friend reached around to hold him in return, fingers tightening on his red robes a little tighter than necessary. Raistlin lay his head against his lover's shoulder, trying to ignore the slight hitch in the Dark elf's breathing.
He remembered the day Caramon and the others had laid bare Dalamar's past, of the Dark elf's reaction. It had been the first time he had seen his lover cry and it had shocked him. And it shocked him now, although he didn't show it. The Silvanesti had seemed to have come to terms with what had happened, and it had looked as though the memories no longer haunted him as they had. Certainly, he had fewer nightmares on the subject. He had believed Dalamar was finally dealing with his past. However, apparently, the opposite was true; the Dark elf had simply ground the memories down and tried to forget about them. Perhaps it had worked for a while, but now they were laid bare again they hurt just as much as they had before.
Dalamar pulled away, although there was a marked reluctance in the movement. His silver eyes were strangely liquid, but when they closed, no tears slipped free. Raistlin leant in and pressed his forehead against the Dark elf's, hands seeking and twining with his lover’s, giving what comfort he could, comfort which should have been given earlier.
The Red Robe felt a stab of guilt at his previous behaviour. How many days Dalamar had been forced to deal with this burden alone, he didn't know. He should have helped, he knew, but it was hard to offer comfort with whispers hissing warnings of fear and disaster in your mind. Whatever these strange premonitions were, they had not quietened, becoming, if anything, louder and insistent the closer they came to Tarsis.
As useful as the whispers had been in the past, however, Raistlin was becoming very irritated with them. It was hard to concentrate on anything with dire warnings being whispered to him at all times of the day, constantly remind him that he was walking into danger, and, oddly, the necessity of walking into exactly that danger.
Dalamar pulled away, looking more composed. He pressed a kiss against the human’s forehead and held the Red Robe's hand a little tighter, smiling. "What are you thinking?"
Another question he couldn't answer. There were far too much of them now, and Raistlin wished his friend wouldn't ask them, although he knew the Dark elf didn't know what he was asking most of the time. He shrugged.
Dalamar's smile faded and he looked away, doubtlessly understanding what his companion meant.
The awkward silence was interrupted by Tanis, "When you've /quite/ finished, could you deign to join us?"
The Dark elf glanced back at Raistlin, raising his eyebrows in a question. The human nodded and, still holding hands, they walked over to where the other were crowded around one of Tasslehoff's maps.
"According to the map, Tarsis is just over that range of hills, is that right?" the half-elf inquired, looking at Dalamar.
The Dark elf nodded, to all appearances looking pensive and thoughtful, but Raistlin could see the edge of a smile in those grey eyes. No doubt, the exile was relishing the thought of the companion's expressions when they saw the /former/ port city of Tarsis.
The human wizard sighed. Misery loves company. Not only that, but he could imagine all to well how Brightblade would take the deception. The last thing they wanted was to set that one off again.
Still, perhaps it would be all for the best. If the whispers were to be believed -and Raistlin hadn't known them to be wrong before- in walking into Tarsis they would be walking into danger greater than anything they had found in Pax Tharkas. Greater danger, and greater reward, and perhaps it would be best to get the knight out of the way before anything else happened. It would make enemies of the others, true, but that wouldn't be much of a change.
Tanis was suggesting that he climb the hills and take a look around, reluctantly asking if Dalamar would accompany him.
This time the Dark elf couldn't quite hide the smile twitching his lips, although if Half-elven saw it, he must have misinterpreted it.
"I will come too," Raistlin put in. As much as he hated physical exertion, he wanted to see this for himself, and he had a feeling his friend would need some support.
Tanis gave him an odd look, obviously wondering how the frail mage was planning on making the climb. And he was right, the human wizard though in with a stab of anger at his weakness. "Caramon will help me," he added idly, glancing over to his brother. "/Won't you?/"
The big warrior looked momentarily bewildered, then nodded and came to stand beside the red robed mage.
Sturm looked at the four of them, reserving special hatred for the two lowers. "I'll come with you too. I don't trust these two with either of you."
Dalamar rolled his eyes and Raistlin hid a wince. As necessary as this fight might be, having it on the top of a hill was certainly not a good idea.
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The climb was a cold one, and an equally frigid reception awaited them at the top. Tanis was up first. He looked around, turned pale, and started cursing.
Dalamar laughed coldly and the half-elf wheeled around. "You! How dare you!"
The Dark elf sneered and pulled himself up, ignoring the half-elf and reaching down to help Raistlin up. The human was grateful; even with Caramon's aid the climb had been hard, and he was exhausted.
Tarsis was very much as Dalamar had described it, a large city in the middle of the endless Plains of Dust, its riches little more than ruins. To the south the human wizard could make out the tattered shapes of the legendary white-winged ships, marking the city's slums. Strangely, at the sight of the land-bound city, the whispers in Raistlin's mind ceased abruptly.
The Red Robe looked away and glanced over at his friend, who was scowling at the city, taking refuge in anger.
The human mage wondered if things could possibly get worse, Dalamar was ready to snarl at the first person to speak to him, and the moment the Solamnic came up there would be a fight.
"Raist, what's the matter? I don't-"
"Oh, use your eyes," the mage snapped at his brother.
Sturm joined them on the crest of the hill. "What is-" He stopped when he saw the sight that awaited him.
Tanis spat on the ground bitterly. "The sea's gone." He turned and scowled poisonously at the Dark elf. "Did that particular detail /slip your mind?/"
The knight wheeled around. "You knew!" He was furious.
Dalamar laughed bitterly. "Of course I knew, but it was worth seeing your faces if nothing else."
Their expressions had been comical, Raistlin admitted to himself, especially Caramon's, who was only now working out what the problem was, but the pleasure was overhung with the knowledge that the deception would spark a fight. He hardly needed the whispers to work /that/ one out.
He was right, Sturm's face had turned puce. "We came all this way for nothing!" the knight roared, drawing his sword. "By all the Gods, I'll kill you this time, Dark elf!"
Dalamar's cold expression twisted into a hideous grin, one hand reaching for his spell components, the other for his dagger. It had hurt the Silvanesti a lot to come here, even more to be forced to look on Tarsis again, and there was no doubt that he wanted to take all that rage and pain out on someone. Brightblade had just volunteered.
Sturm lunged, a downward cut that would had hacked off Dalamar's arm if the Dark elf hadn't dodged out of the way. The latter lashed out with his dagger as the human went past, tearing a narrow cut along Brightblade's forearm. Unarmoured, the blade bit deep. With a second roar of rage, the Solamnic spun around. This time Dalamar was a little too slow, and the blade scored a shallow cut along the back of his shoulder, shredding through his black robes.
Raistlin reached in his pouch of spell components and drew out a small flint arrowhead and a small vial of oil, eyes narrowed in hatred at the knight. This time, his spell would do more than simply burn Brightblade's moustache. Beside him, Dalamar had gritted his teeth against the pain and was preparing a spell.
"STOP!" Tanis stepped between them. "Stop it! This isn't solving anything."
"He lied to us," Sturm hissed. "We have come all of this way only to go back, just because of his spite."
"You would have come here anyway," the Dark elf snarled, lowering his hands and letting the magic fade. "There are port towns further south, and we would have passed through this place anyway."
The half-elf lowered his hands. "Further south?"
"Why should we believe you?" the Solamnic demanded.
Dalamar sneered at the knight. "Please don't, I would be pleased for an excuse to be rid of your presence-"
"Enough!" Tanis interrupted before the situation could escalate again. "We'll get into Tarsis and decide there. If there are towns further south, the people there will know of them."
Caramon looked around warily. "I don't like this, Tanis. We'll be out in the open again. I know something has been following us. I feel eyes watching -even now."
Well done, Raistlin thought. As usual, Caramon was the last to catch on. "Where else can we go?" he snapped at his brother. "You are right to say we are being watched, though far too late. I have known it since the people arrived at Southgate. I tried to warn them-" A coughing fit gripped him suddenly, with no warning. He doubled over, leaning on Dalamar.
"How do you know?" Half-elven demanded.
Wiping the flecks of blood from his mouth, the human wizard stared coldly at the half-elf for long moments, waiting until his cursed eyes turned him into a withered husk before continuing. "Haven't you learnt yet? /I know!/ Put it at that. I paid for my knowledge in the Towers of High Sorcery. I paid for it with my body and very nearly my reason. I paid for it with-" Raistlin stopped himself before he went any further.
"With what?" his lover asked, voice as chill and brittle as the icy air.
It was tempting to go on, to finally lay bare what had been hanging between himself and Dalamar, but not here, not now, and certainly not with this company.
"You know I can't answer," Raistlin said shortly, turning away and fighting back another cough.
Behind him, he heard Caramon. "It's just that I don't understand-"
The Red Robe looked back over his shoulder. "Nor will you," he murmured, turning from his brother to Dalamar. "Ever."
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They camped in the shadow of the hills that night, out of the wind and snow. The atmosphere was sombre and depressed, and even Tasslehoff was being uncharacteristically quiet. They didn't dare risk a fire -the feeling of being watched was too strong- and the cold was biting. It was a clear night, and the stars blazed down like flecks of sun-struck ice. Solinari had risen, and its white light made everything seem so much colder, turning the Plains of Dust into a ghostly landscape.
Dalamar hadn't spoken much, the twin pressures of memories and the continued silence weighing heavily between the two mages. Raistlin felt another kick of guilt at the knowledge that he was responsible for some of the pain the Dark elf was feeling. If he hadn't been so stubborn in keeping his secrets, then his friend would have been spared at least /some/ mental pain.
Or would he? Would his confession alleviate anything or would he simply trade one pain for another, probably worse one?
The Red Robe didn't speak watching as Dalamar climbed into the bedroll they shared. Either due to the cold or for another reason, he had kept his now-mended robes on. The human mage sighed, removed his boots, and climbed in beside the Dark elf. They had thrown their cloaks over themselves as extra blankets, but even still, the human was shivering. He was grateful he had remembered to drink his tea; even cold it would be enough to stave off his cough. The younger mage pressed up against his companion, who was curled up on his side, turning away from him.
Raistlin smiled a little at the comforting warmth of his lover's body and the black hair that tickled his face. Goldmoon had healed the shallow cut on the Dark elf's back, and the skin under his robes was smooth and unmarred. For a few moments, Dalamar was rigid as an iron bar, but when his lover slid his arms around him, the Silvanesti gave a soft, quiet sigh and relaxed into the embrace, even reaching up to touch Raistlin's wrist.
When the human's hand starting rubbing circles along his collarbone, occasionally slipping under the soft fabric of his robes to slid along bare skin, the exile caught his breath. "What are you doing?"
The human kissed the side of his face, fingertips dipping down to run over the Dark elf's chest. "Just relax," he whispered into Dalamar's ear.
It was a pity the climb had tired him too much to be able to look after the Dark elf the way he wanted to, but there were other ways to make his lover feel better.
Dalamar looked over his shoulder, lips twitching into a tired smile. "Are you offering to take my mind off things?"
Raistlin kissed him again, to his forehead this time. "Yes."
The Dark elf rolled over on his back, looking up into the human mage's golden eyes. "Please."
The Red Robe lay down next to him, propped up on one elbow. One hand slid down Dalamar's chest to his abdomen, feeling the Dark elf twitch and shiver under his touch. A few of the ties on those black robes were deftly undone, and Raistlin slid his hand inside.
The Silvanesti jumped, then laughed softly. "Your hands are freezing," he whispered.
The human smiled, and rubbed his fingers over Dalamar's warm skin before tracking further down.
The dark-robed man closed his eyes and sighed. When Raistlin kissed him, he felt the Dark elf smile against him. He stayed like this, thoroughly kissing Dalamar, tongue flicking into and exploring his lover's mouth, swallowing the Silvanesti’s moans at the sensations his hands were eliciting.
Dalamar slid his arms around Raistlin's neck, groaning into his mouth and spreading his thighs, welcoming his lover's touch.
The human mage smiled against his lover's lips, feeling Dalamar buck under his caresses, the Dark elf's breathing becoming quicker and heavier as he approached the edge of control. It was a sweet delight to do this, to feel one as beautiful and desirable as his companion writhing under him, all but begging for his touch. Raistlin groaned, feeling his body react.
A growl started in the back of Dalamar's throat, rising to a low cry as the Dark elf lost control, jaw snapping shut and biting his friend’s tongue. He bucked up one final time against the human's hand and came hard.
Raistlin pulled away, his clean hand going to his mouth. Dalamar had bitten him quite badly and he could taste blood. Cursing under his breath, the human wizard reached for a scrap of cloth from his pack and wiped the Dark elf's seed off his fingers.
"Are you alright?" Dalamar's voice was husky.
"You bit me." The human’s words were muffled.
The Dark elf rolled over, pulling the human down and kissing him, his tongue brushing gently over the wound before pulling away.
For a few moments the two mages simply looked at each other. Dalamar looked much better, Raistlin decided. Clearly, the reminder that he didn't have to suffer through this alone had been a great reassurance to the Dark elf. More than that, it had rekindled the intimacy that had been damaged by the Red Robe’s secrets.
Well, if there was ever a time to admit the truth, it was now.
Nevertheless, Raistlin didn't speak, and it was not because of the pain in his tongue. He didn't think he could, to damage this moment with unpleasant truths would be unforgivable. There would be other times.
Dalamar was still smiling, and bend down to press his lips to Raistlin's forehead. "I love you."
The Red Robe reached up to hold him, pulling the Dark elf down on top of him and feeling as though his heart might melt. "And I you," he muttered into Dalamar's robe-clad shoulder.
There was a touch of mischief in the elf’s eyes as he pulled away, one hand toying with the collar of Raistlin's dishevelled red robes, the other stroking the human mage's thigh. "Would you like me to return the favour?" he asked coyly.
Raistlin couldn't have stifled his smile for anything. Well, perhaps he wasn't /that/ tired, and he would have been lying if he said the sight of Dalamar's pleasure hadn't affected him.
He watched as his lover kissed his thin chest, then started working his way down, and was unable to stop grinning. The human tilted his head back and looked up at the glittering stars.
It was going to be a long night.
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It /was/ a long night, though not one Raistlin would have exchanged for any other. The intimacy was wonderful, the closeness a delight, and once their desires were sated, they fell asleep in each other's arms.
The clear weather continued as it had that night, and the Red Robe had been woken as much by the bright sun as by Sturm nudging him in the ribs.
The Solamnic had looked more than slightly disgusted at the sight of them, and Dalamar's sneering insults hadn't helped. Luckily, Tanis averted a fight reminding them that they needed to leave now if they were to get to Tarsis before noon.
The Dark elf's amusement had faded at the reminder, and Raistlin walked over to stand beside him, resting one hand on his lover's shoulder to remind him that he was not facing this alone. Dalamar had relaxed a little, but the darkness in his eyes was unabated.
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They had reached the gates of Tarsis by midmorning, and apparently, the onset of war had made odd travellers more commonplace in the city, because other than a few odd looks and several pointed questions to Dalamar, the guards allowed them to enter with little difficulty. Clearly, the rules of entrance had been relaxed in the near-decade since the elven exile had been turned away.
Better yet, none of them seemed to remember him, and Raistlin saw some of the tension and pain in the Dark elf's eyes dissolve.
There was something up though, or the Dark elf wouldn't be smirking like that, and it had to be something he knew the human would disagree with, or he wouldn't be keeping it so quiet. Resigning himself to trouble, Raistlin thrust the thoughts from his mind and fell into step beside his frind.
The inn they found was, rather ironically, called the 'Red Dragon'. Personally, Raistlin thought that this was tempting fate. Once inside, he noticed Dalamar was shooting looks over to the door. "What is it?"
"We've been followed." The Dark elf smiled grimly.
"By whom?"
"You'll see."
Raistlin sighed and shook his head, then tried to forget about it. At least this little plot was keeping Dalamar's mind off where they were. Talking of which: "How are you feeling?"
The Silvanesti shrugged. "I never came into the city proper, so it doesn't evoke memories, and at least nobody knows me. If we... if were in the slums, that would be another story, on both counts." The Dark elf sighed and seemed to slump down a little at the thought. The human touched his shoulder in support.
"Enough," Dalamar said softly, pulling his hood down further, throwing his pale face in shadow.
Raistlin nodded, and they walked over to join the others at a table.
Flint shot them both ugly looks as they sat down. "This is what comes of trusting a Dark elf!" he snorted. "Double-crosses us for no reason!"
Personally, the Red Robe thought that, given the circumstances and the company, Dalamar had plenty of reasons to feed them false information, but he didn't think anyone else would agree.
"It doesn't matter," the dark-clad elf put in curtly, waving over a barmaid. "We can buy provisions here and carry on to another port city, Rigitt perhaps."
The dwarf snorted again, muttering darkly about not making the same mistake twice. "Do you want to go back to Thorbardin and admit you've failed?" Dalamar asked, raising an eyebrow.
Raistlin his a smile behind the mug of hot water the barmaid had just brought over. It was a good point, and the old man could hardly debate it, seeing as the Hill and Mountain dwarves had been feuding for generations. Flint would become a sailor before he admitted failing anything to the Hylar.
As expected, the dwarf spluttered and fell silent. The table was quiet as food was brought over. The younger wizard pulled out his pouch of herbs and dropped some into the hot water, watching as they seeped and mixed.
Dalamar nudged him. "Are you hungry?"
Raistlin looked up, momentarily startled at being shocked out of his reverie. The Dark elf was offering him a plate of hot meat and bread. The human mage took it. While not exactly hungry -watching food rot and decay would put anyone off eating- he did need to eat, and this would be as good as anything. He smiled his thanks to Dalamar. He couldn't bring himself to touch the meat, but the bread was edible. He ate slowly, occasionally sipping his tea. Between his cough and his cursed eyes, eating anything was a difficult task. He couldn't look at anything too long before it seemed to rot away -destroying his appetite-, but at the same time, he had to eat slowly in order not to choke. At least the tea helped.
Tanis was the first to put his plate aside. "We need to discuss what to do next. Dalamar's suggestion is a valid one, /if/ it's true." He shot an ugly look at the Dark elf, who sneered back.
"Ask anyone here, they'll confirm it," the target of his glare snorted.
The half-elf nodded. "We will, but what do you think, Elistan?"
The old cleric had been very quiet, and had eaten even less than Raistlin. "I suppose it is our only choice, but I will return to Southgate. I cannot be away from the people long. You should come with me too, my dear." He touched Laurana's hand. "I cannot dispense with you."
The Red Robe took another sip of his tea to hide his amusement at Tanis' scowl.
Goldmoon and Riverwind decided to return with Elistan, and Sturm offered to go with Half-elven.
"Us too, of course," Caramon added, looking at the two mages.
Raistlin narrowed his eyes at his twin for having the temerity to choose for him, and looked over at Tanis thoughtfully.
But before he could voice his decision, Sturm broke in, "I don't think your brother is fit to travel, Caramon-" He shot a malevolent glare at the wizard, as if daring him to disagree.
"So very concerned about my health, aren't you, Brightblade?" the human mage hissed. "But it isn't that, is it? Not when you've made it so abundantly clear that you would want both Dalamar and I dead. No, you fear me; you fear both of us-"
And he was right to, Raistlin thought darkly, more settled than even on the decision that the Solamnic would have to die before he got one or both of them killed. The knight was not wrong to fear them, for though his skill at arm had improved, so had the mage's expertise.
Dalamar could cast from Fistandantilus' spellbook now, something that had eluded the Dark elf even after Pax Tharkas, and he was skilled enough that the human didn't doubt that, once this war was finished, the Silvanesti could go to the Tower of High Sorcery and take his Test with little fear.
But Raistlin... well, he could cast many more spells from Fistandantilus' spellbook than his friend could, as well as a few he had copied from Fizban's, but it wasn't just that what unnerved Brightblade. Perhaps it was the whispers, or maybe the cold chill in the pit of his soul that reminded him of the lich’s continued presence, but Dalamar had remarked a few weeks ago that he looked far more intimidating. The Dark elf had been smirking pointedly when he said it, reminding him that not /everyone/ was affected, but it was easy to see how the Solamnic felt threatened by the two of them. Especially since Sturm knew -although he'd renounce his knighthood before he admitted it- that the two wizards would likely be the victors of a confrontation.
"That's enough!" As usual, Tanis was playing village catchpole, trying to stave the inevitable fight.
"The mage goes back, or I do," Sturm hissed, eyes mere slits.
"Enough!"
Raistlin looked away from the red-faced knight and looked over at Dalamar. "What do you think?"
"I think the knight should go and shove that sword up-"
"Stop it!" Half-elven was looking exasperated.
The Red Robe couldn't help but smile. "About what to do now."
The Dark elf paused for a moment, looking pensive and decidedly torn. "I'm not sure," he murmured to his friend. "And as much as I would love to leave this city and never return, it might be in our interests to stay."
Raistlin nodded. He had a feeling he knew what would be tempting enough to his lover that he might not want to leave yet. "The old library."
The Dark elf nodded. "You know me too well."
The idea was very attractive to the human as well. The old library of Tarsis had housed hundreds of books and scrolls, many of them magical. Seeing as the place hadn't been disturbed for so long, there was a good chance that many of them had survived. After all, the scrolls had been made to withstand the damp, wet weather of the coast, and the dry air of the Plains of Dust would doubtlessly have helped to preserve them.
Who knew what might be found there?
The human wizard nodded again. "Yes, it might be a good idea to stay for a few days. How long do you think it would take them-" he nodded towards the other companions "-to get to and from Rigitt?"
Dalamar thought it over. "About a week at the most, it isn't very far and the roads should still be clear."
Tanis nodded. "You know I'll be asking around for confirmation," he warned.
The elven exile shrugged as if he could care less, which, Raistlin decided, was probably the truth.
Leaving the others discussing their course of action, the human wizard leant in close to his friend. "Are you sure?"
Dalamar didn't ask what was talking about. He fiddled with his knife for a moment then replied, "I think so. I do want to visit what's left of the library, and as long as nobody recognises me, there shouldn't be any problem." The Dark elf looked up, his black hood falling askew across his pale face. "I'm just trying not to think about it."
Raistlin nodded, clasping Dalamar's hand in his. "I won't remind you."
This time the Silvanesti couldn't hold back a thin smile.
"Raist." The annoying sound of his brother's voice cut across the Red Robe’s thoughts.
Irritably, he turned and scowled balefully at Caramon. "What do you want?"
"I'll be coming with you, okay?"
The wizard opened his mouth to say no, that it was not okay, but the Solamnic interrupted, "You are not."
The big man turned to the knight. "I wasn't asking you, Sturm."
Brightblade ignored the warrior, focusing on Raistlin. "I have had enough of you treating your brother like this, mage. The way you use and manipulate him... Enough. You, Caramon, are coming with us."
"We've talked about this before, Sturm," Caramon warned.
"And I see what you are too blind too! You don't care about him at all, do you, Raistlin? Just someone to use when you need him and to throw away when you don't-"
"Stop it!" the burly warrior stood up and faced Brightblade down. "You are the one who's blind-"
"Hush!" Dalamar broke in, holding up one hand for silence.
Now that his brother and the knight had stopped arguing, Raistlin could hear it too, the high-pitched, insistent whine of Tasslehoff's hoopak.
"What now?" the red-robed wizard groaned. He swallowed the last of his tea and stood, the Dark elf following.
Whatever the problem was, none of the inn's patrons or staff were waiting to find out, slinking out of the room as a breathless Tasslehoff came running in, still waving his hoopak at arm's length.
"Guards, Tanis! Guards! Coming this way!"
"Surely they can't be here because of us," the half-elf gasped. "Tas-"
"It wasn't me, honest! I never even reached the marketplace! I just got to the bottom of the street when I saw a whole troop of guards coming this way."
"What's this about guards?" Sturm demanded. "Is this one of the kender's stories?"
Raistlin turned, amazed, as Dalamar started to laugh, eyes narrowed at the Solamnic.
"They don't like Solamnic knights, Brightblade," he hissed. "Why do I think I agreed for us to come along? I wanted to be here to see the guards welcome you in person."
There was a moment of deathly silence, and the Red Robe could hear the tramp of booted feet approaching.
Sturm stared incredulously at Dalamar, then lunged forward with a roar of rage, his sword forgotten.
The Dark elf had clearly not been expecting such a direct attack, and the Solamnic forced him into one of the inn's tables, bearing him down. The table broke apart under their combined weight, sending the two combatants flying. One mailed hand locked around Dalamar's throat, and Sturm raised a fist to crush the wizard’s face.
Raistlin's staff caught him under the jaw. The magically enhanced blow threw the knight off Dalamar, and there was a sickening crunch as Brightblade's teeth splintered under the blow.
Snarling through the blood filling his mouth, the knight got to his feet, one hand going up to cover his lips, the other drawing his sword.
The younger mage pulled Dalamar up off the mass of splinters that had once been one of the inn's tables. The Dark elf rubbed his bruised neck, grabbing a handful of spell components.
"I'll kill you! You led us to our death, Dark elf whore!" Sturm spat through a mouthful of broken teeth.
That shot told, Raistlin saw his lover’s shoulders stiffen and his eyes flash silver. "No. I led /you/ to /your/ death, Brightblade. /Ast kiranann kair gadunrm, soth-arn suh kali jalaran!/"
A bolt of shimmering lightning shot from Dalamar's fingers, and slammed into the knight, sending him crashing into the wall. The man slid down it, electrical crackles playing over his armour, a huge scorch mark on the wall.
Dalamar doubled over, gasping. Raistlin looked at the Dark elf in a mixture of amazement and pride; the spell was not an easy one, and although he himself could cast it with little difficulty, for Dalamar to succeed... and so well!
Tanis obviously disagreed. "You son of-" he grabbed a handful of the Dark elf's robes and shook him. "What in the blazes are you do -Ahg!" the half-elf yelped and doubled over. Dalamar had kneed him in the groin.
"You filthy, bastard son of a gully dwarf!" Flint shouted, charging at Raistlin, who dodged out of the way. Caramon intercepted the furious dwarf and pulled him away from the red-robed mage.
Goldmoon edged around the room and knelt down beside the unconscious knight, whispering a prayer to Mishakal. Elistan walked to stand next to her, adding his prayers to hers.
A loud crash from outside interrupted the melee, reminding the combatants of the approaching guards.
Raistlin and Dalamar looked at each other, then fled upstairs. Behind them, they heard Tanis shouting, ordering Caramon and the others to do the same. Flint, Tasslehoff, and -thank the Gods- a newly woken Sturm, decided to stay, at least they wouldn't have to deal with the knight again.
At hearing this, the younger wizard felt an odd shiver pass through him, and the whispers reawakened. The words were soft, but clear. Words of ending, of death, of fate and inevitability. The message was clear.
When Sturm bid the others farewell, Raistlin looked towards the door and sighed, turning away when the others came in. "And what a long farewell it will be," he murmured, his thin voice carrying clearly over the noise downstairs. "Some of us are not destined to meet again in this world."
Dalamar looked around, looking at him oddly. "Why do you say that?" he whispered.
"Yes," Riverwind's eyes were cold. "Why did you say that?"
The Red Robe didn't answer, staring balefully at the Plainsman until he turned away. Once the two wizards were left alone, he nodded towards a table by one of the windows.
He and his companion walked over and sat down. "Dalamar-" he started, not sure what to say.
The Dark elf shook his head. "Don't. I know. You can't. Or won't. Or whatever reason you have for keeping this quiet." He swallowed, then looked up and met Raistlin eyes. "I know you have your reasons, or you think you do, but..."
Dalamar rubbed his face, sighing. "I wish you would just tell me. You say it would hurt me, but this silence is hurting me more." He covered the human’s hand with his own. "Please."
Raistlin looked down at their joined hands, then up into the Dark elf's grey eyes, and back down at a tabletop marked by countless cups and plates and initials. Slowly, silently, he shook his head, thinking that if he opened his mouth, he wouldn't be able to hold back. He continued staring at the table, not wanting to look up and see the disappointment in Dalamar's eyes.
The loud slam of a door broke the two mages out of their thoughts, and they looked out in time to see Tanis, Sturm, Flint, and Tasslehoff being led out by the guards.
However, even the sight of Brightblade being dragged off was not enough to make Dalamar smile.

Skull Bearer.
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