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Engraven	By : Skullbearer Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1948 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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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Here it is, the sequel to Ice and Steel. I own nothing.
Engraven
Hourglass Conspiracies
Water was running; children were running
You were running out of time
Under the mountain, a golden fountain
Were you praying at the Lares shrine?
-Siouxsie And The Banshees, Cities In Dust.
Raistlin clutched the cup tightly, feeling the heat of the liquid it held burn the chill from his hands. He stared down at the mixture of leaves and herbs that made up the herbal tea in an effort not to meet Dalamar's eyes. The Dark elf's eyes bore through him, as they had every day since he'd returned from the Test.
He knew why, it was the same reason he stared at his reflection every time he saw it. He was trying to get used to the fact that this was what he looked like now. Now and forever, thanks to the Test.
Raistlin could understand, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Lifting his eyes from the foul-smelling brew, he met Dalamar's gaze squarely.
The Dark elf had the courtesy to look embarrassed and it was his turn to study his hands. "My apologies," he murmured, barely audible over the crackle of the campfire, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"Being under constant scrutiny has a way of making anyone uncomfortable." Raistlin snapped.
There was silence as they both stared into the fire. Raistlin lifted the cup to his lips, ignoring the pain as the hot liquid burnt his tongue.
"I am sorry." Dalamar's eyes were down, staring at the white-hot embers within the blaze. The sorrow in his eyes was palpable and Raistlin felt his anger melt away, to be replaced with his own sadness. He could never stay angry with Dalamar, especially like this.
One finger brushed Raistlin's chin, urging him to look up from his cup. He raised his head and his golden eyes met Dalamar's silver ones. The Dark elf's mouth twitched, as it always did when he was upset, and he had never seen Dalamar as upset as when he told him how Par-Salian had cursed him. The fact that the Dark elf himself was untouched by the decay that twisted almost everything else in Raistlin's gaze was little consolation.
"Par-Salian gave you those." It was no question, Dalamar knew this already, but Raistlin nodded anyway.
"And he gave you this." Dalamar indicated the Staff of Magius, Raistlin's hand went instinctively to the warm wood, but nodded again.
"He gave you a staff who's sole purpose was to destroy Dragons," Dalamar was talking half to Raistlin, half to himself, "There's a war just over the horizon and Dragons have been mentioned, then you are given that staff. I think Par-Salian knows more than he's letting on."
Raistlin nodded a third time, he'd thought the same. "What does this have to do with-"
"He wants you to be a weapon." Dalamar interrupted, "He's too old and getting too weak to face down the coming enemy, whoever it is, so he wants someone to face them down for him."
"Perhaps." Raistlin looked back into the flames, "He certainly was very evasive when I asked why he'd given it to me, but if he wanted me to fight for him, why curse me?"
Dalamar's face twisted, "He wants you to be a weapon, Raistlin, a sword to battle the enemy when he can't. But the problem with swords is that they are double edged, they can cut both ways. He wants you to fight for him, but not to pose any danger later on."
He paused and caught the younger mage's gaze with him own, the reflected fire burnt darkly in the Dark elf's eyes. "How better, than to make sure you don't live long enough to be a threat? And what better way to do that, than to take away any joy you might have?"
Raistlin nearly dropped the cup. "Are you suggesting that Par-Salian did this in the hope I would eventually kill myself?"
Silver eyes glimmered, "I fail to see why else he'd have given you those eyes. He takes away any pleasure you might find, and after you have served your /purpose/," Dalamar sneered, "You conveniently disappear, and he doesn't even have to dirty his saintly white robes to do it."
"And if that was the case, those 'saintly white robes' would have soon turned as black as your own." Raistlin shook his head, "Par-Salian is the Head of the order of White Robes, I doubt he would act this way."
"Oh, I daresay he could justify it to himself, perhaps he thinks that by using you as a weapon, he will save many lives, and that by this curse he will save many more, only this time he will save them; not from an enemy's blades, but from your spells. The life of one in exchange for that of hundreds."
Raistlin closed his eyes, blocking out a dying world. Perhaps Dalamar was right, he thought, perhaps not, but he knew one thing...
He shifted sideways until he was leaning up against his lover's warm body, "I can promise you, Dalamar Nightson, that I have no plans to die anytime soon."
Equally warm arms slid around him in a sweet embrace and a kiss was pressed against his whisper-white hair. "I hope not, Raistlin Majere, I love you far to much to ever let you go, ever, no matter what happens."
"Be quiet." Raistlin murmured, twisting around and pressing a kiss against Dalamar's lips, swallowing anything else the Dark elf might say. Really, he'd thought Dalamar above such pillow-talk.
He reached up and tangled his hands into Dalamar's black hair, occasionally brushing and toying with a slender pointed ear.
Dalamar all but purred with pleasure, Raistlin knew how sensitive the elf's ears were and how much he loved having them played with. It was the perfect way to distract his lover from his black mood, and from saying things that Raistlin didn't think he could cope with right now.
A smile crossed Dalamar's handsome face, his eyes drifted closed and he leaned down to rub his face gently against Raistlin's. Then he sighed and sat back, pulling Raistlin in closer until the younger mage's face was pressed into the Dark elf's robes.
"I'm so sorry." Dalamar's voice was soft and sad.
"Dalamar," Raistlin's words were slightly muffled but still clear, as was the irritation in them, "In this entire mess, there is no one more blameless than you."
"I know that," Dalamar said, "but when I see you like this," and here he brushed a hand gently against Raistlin's all-too-thin face, "I can't help but wonder if I could have done...something."
Raistlin shook his head, "You could have done nothing, don't bother feeling guilty."
Dalamar smiled "I'll try not to." His hand crept up Raistlin's neck and scratched through his white hair, then changed the subject "How's your chest feeling?"
The pain had gone, if Par-Salian had done him any good turn at all, the tea recipe was the one. "It's fine, the tea did its work well."
"I wish you could tell me what caused that." He paused, then touched the young mage's golden face, "Or this, as a matter of fact."
Raistlin shook his head again, he hadn't told Dalamar about Fistandantilus, he wished he didn't know himself. He could not bring himself to so much as picture the look of horror the knowledge would bring to his lover's face, let alone do anything to put it there. If there was anything they could do to change the situation, Raistlin would tell the truth in a heartbeat, but as it was....
No, bad enough that he knew, he didn't want for Dalamar to share that burden.
"Please, don't ask me to. You know I must keep this secret."
"Even from me?"
Raistlin fought back a shudder, "Especially from you, Dalamar, you of all people should understand why I have to do this."
"Yes." Dalamar's voice was cold, "I can relate, and look at where keeping my secrets got me."
Raistlin winced, as he always did when anyone mentioned the incident, three months ago, when his idiotic twin brother Caramon announced Dalamar's unpleasant past for all of Solace to hear. He hated thinking about it and it would be a long time, if ever, before he forgave Caramon.
"Please."
Dalamar sighed, "Very well, I won't pry anymore."
"Thank you." Raistlin snuggled in closer, letting the Dark elf's body heat block out the cold that seemed to be frozen in his bones.

Skull Bearer.
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Engraven