Disclaimer: I don't own Dungeons and Dragons.

A/N: Alright, avid readers, here's my first crack at writing a D&D fic. I love the concept of an Eric/Diana pairing, so this'll be mostly about them. It'll probably have some angstiness (is that a word?) and a lot of fighting because that's what I love. I want you to read this and then TELL me if this is working. If NOT, then communicate ways to improve it, and I'll take it into consideration. Otherwise, I present to you:

The Silver Veil

I.

"I think this is where we run away screaming!" Eric shouted with his body already turned toward the nearest exit. A green glowing staff held by an irate female with muscles bigger than his stopped him from fleeing.

"Hold it, scaredy-shield. We're not done yet," she said forcefully. She fixed Eric with a Medusa's glare.

"So we stay and get splattered by Mr. Swing-Happy Knight. That's on my to-do list," he replied, as sarcastic as usual, and earned a smart rap on the forehead. A rattling explosion had them turning to the rest of the group.

"Bobby! Hit the columns!" Hank shouted over the hum of his energy arrows.

"Oh, that's a great idea," Eric called from his spot, as Diana bounded from cover to attack the menacing figure on the platform. Bobby gleefully pummeled the stone column nearest him. It took the ten year-old two swings to fully disintegrate the column.

Almost immediately, the ceiling began crumbling. The knight lifted his sword to zap Bobby, but Hank stopped that from happening with an arrow; however, the knight's shot went wild and struck Hank with a powerful charge to his broad chest. The Ranger crashed into a second column and dazedly slumped to the floor. Diana peppered the large, armored figure with hits from her javelin to give Hank time to recover.

"Sheila, the helm! Put it on the statue!" Hank commanded over the rumbling of rock. To the side, Presto 'twiddled' his fingers over his magic hat. His face was pale and anxious in the dim glow of magic.

"When I count to five, give me something to keep us alive! One…two," Presto started counting, attention engaged on the hat. He didn't see a bolt of energy sing toward him. Eric plunged from cover, shield raised.

"Five! FIVE!" he shouted hysterically, just barely covering the young magician in enough time to save him from becoming crispy.

"Threefourfive!" Presto finished in a squeak. Slowly the hat glowed brighter. At this point, the ceiling was no long crumbling, but was dropping stone-sized bits and pieces on the Dungeon Master's pupils. The evil knight roared in rage, and the five saw Sheila appear, finally, and place the helm on the statue.

"Everyone, up to the statue, NOW!" Hank shouted, already halfway up the steps. He continued shooting arrows to give everyone else cover, and soon the Young Ones were gathered around the statue and helm. Presto's hat continued glowing, the magic taking longer than usual to work. The knight was close enough now to swing his sword at them.

A bright light exploded in the dim chamber. At the last minute, Eric saw Diana knocked off the platform and take a nasty fall down the stone steps. She landed, sprawled limply, and almost at the same time, the knight turned and brought down his sword again. Eric dove instinctively to cover Diana with his shield, flew like Superman down the stairs, and put himself between her and instant death. He'd landed on her just as the light washed over them. Eric watched, powerless, as Hank's stalwart profile disappeared, a knowing look passing between them, and the only thing he knew for sure was that Diana was safely caught underneath him. He was relieved as darkness blanketed his vision.

Vague thoughts tugged at the corner of his mind. He remembered:

Light…sound.

Was this a dream? Did he smell coconuts and…sniffsniff…lime? His mind flitted to Hawaii, the last time he'd been on vacation with his folks. He was a spoiled, single child, taken everywhere so as not to be lost track of. They were probably worried sick and had hired the best private investigators in the States.

Home.

Where was that?

Not this godforsaken Realm.

Maybe, a fluttering hope whispered, you are home.

I don't want to know.

A brief movement underneath him scattered his thoughts.

"Roll off, Mr. Roboto. Your metal self weighs a ton," Diana groaned. The Cavalier had trapped her to the ground; she'd seen the sword ready to cleave her, and she'd acknowledged that he'd saved her tail yet again. But his lax form was pressing the air out of her lungs, and she was too shaken up to shove him off herself.

And yet, Diana couldn't help the safe feeling she had. He was so close, cool and warm at the same time, smelling of metal and earth, his breathing a soft whisper in her ear. His cheek brushed hers, and she stilled like a frightened animal until he clanked over on his back away from her.

With his oppressive weight elsewhere, she sat up to breathe the moist, fresh air into her crushed lungs. She took a moment to get a grip. A steady glance around revealed a large rolling field with a blanket of blue-green grass with wild flower patchwork. She climbed to her feet, using her javelin as a crutch, to stare into the distance. It continued as far as the eye could see in all directions. How typical.

"If I spread out my cloak, this would be a perfect picnic spot," Eric mentioned. "You wouldn't happen to have any food stored in that excuse for an outfit, would you?"

His manner irritated her. Here they were, God knows where, and he has to make a lousy joke about her outfit. As much as she wanted, this was not the time to start a verbal altercation. It was fine when they were all together just bullshitting, but this was life or death. She needed his help and cooperation, and she hoped he would give it willingly because she would beat it out of him otherwise. Diana sighed, collecting the last shreds of her patience.

"First things first," she said, ignoring Eric's banter completely. "We should choose a campsite and set up before dark." Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Eric make a show of searching around. She knew what he was going to say.

"Here's as good a place as any," he said. Frankly, he was sore as hell from a steep and harrowing climb up the side of a mountain not an hour ago. His muscles were already locked up.

"Fine. Let's look for some stones and try and get a fire going. We'll have to keep watch, just in case," she replied, thinking that it was unlikely that anything was roaming a plain at this point, but why leave it to chance. She put her javelin away. Eric's eyebrow quirked---he always got a thrill out of seeing her slip the miniaturized staff into its secret hiding place.

She turned suddenly and caught his look.

"What?" she asked defensively. Eric shrugged.

"You had a bug on you," he answered, lifting his hand in a careless wave. "Hopefully nothing poisonous."

"Oh,really?" Diana smirked and mashed her palm on Eric's forehead, purposely on the same spot she'd rapped earlier with her staff.

"Hey!" Eric said, startled by her momentary contact.

"Got it," she exulted, wiping her hand on her fur. "Now. Look for rocks."

"Yes, my Queen," answered Eric in false admiration and bowed mockingly. He rubbed the tender spot on his forehead absently as he watched her shuffle around, examining the ground for stones.

As they searched, Eric kept up a monologue of complaints and remarks. How did he have the energy to whine so much? Her energy was drained just from listening to him. On more than one occasion she had her mind made up to snap at him, but hearing his voice helped her concentrate on stopping the worry and anxiety from spreading further from its place in the pit of her stomach. She wouldn't jeopardize that just yet.

Eric was wondering just how tough Diana was…he'd seen her flop down those stairs like a rag doll, and yet she was moving with ease, as if it never happened. He wanted to know if she'd been injured, but thought it best if he didn't ask. When he moved, however, he felt like an old man, and knew for a fact that he was probably covered in roiling purple marks.

He kept bitching and moaning, waiting for her to retaliate, to say something to shut him up and put him in his place, but she didn't. She kept ignoring him, and Eric had a feeling that he knew what was wrong. It was the same reason he was keeping up a line of sarcastic remarks about their situation.

Eventually they found enough rocks to place into a circle and some dry weeds and grass, where Eric had Diana laughing when he shrieked at the sight of a small snake, to make a decent fire. Food, on the other hand, was not as easy to find before the night descended on the Cavalier and the Acrobat. The pair had to pull their belt buckles tighter and try to relax on an empty stomach.

"Where do think the others are?" Diana asked as Eric sat beside her. She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them.

"I don't know," he answered her, keeping his eyes on the fire. "For that matter, where are we?"

"You are exactly where you need to be," a wizened voice told them, causing them both to start. The Dungeon Master had appeared in the fire. He stepped out to stand in front of them.

"Have any useful riddles for us, Your Shortness?" Eric quipped when his heart settled in his chest. Diana quieted him with a glare.

"Shut up and let 'im talk," she snapped as she leaned forward. "Do you know where the others are, Dungeon Master?"

"They are safe, for now," he replied serenely. He only smiled gently when Eric groaned.

"Oh, brother! Lemme guess. If we don't find them, they'll be lost forever, right?" he asked, rolling his eyes. Inwardly, Diana responded in exactly the same manner; however, she continued looking at Dungeon Master intently.

"Yes, Cavalier. There is only one way they can leave the place where they are trapped." Here, Dungeon Master created a blue sphere to show Eric and Diana what he was talking about. Inside the blue sphere a silvery, folded piece of cloth appeared on a stone pedestal.

"This is the Silver Veil. You must travel southwards and find the Pool of Reflections. From there, the Silver Veil will be in the place underneath that which shows what is above. Once you have the Silver Veil, you will be able to save your friends," Dungeon Master explained sagely. The sphere disappeared, and he folded his hands into his red robes. Diana knew the next part.

"But what do you mean, it'll be underneath that which shows what is above?" Eric asked, confused as usual. His face scrunched in frustration when he found he was talking to the fire. "How does he do that?"

"At least we have a plan," Diana said, yawning and rubbing her arms at the same time. The temperature had cooled several degrees since the suns had set.

"Yeah, a plan for disaster," the Cavalier muttered, as he shrugged off his cloak and offered it to Diana. "I'll take first watch."

"Eric…" she trailed off, puzzled, and unsure of how to respond to his kindness.

"You'd think I'd let my Queen freeze off her cute little rear?" he asked with a smile, and then grinned when Diana snatched it from him.

"Stuff it," she retorted, as she swaddled herself in red cloth. Then, quietly, shyly, she said, "Thanks, Eric."

"No problem." He stretched out his long legs and stared intently into the fire. He'd lied when he said it had been no problem. It was a problem…a big problem. When had he ever offered his cloak to her before? When had he ever willingly volunteered to do something first? Eric hated being the nice guy…it wasn't his style---it was Hank's. Being nice was stupid and got you nowhere. Eric liked to think of himself as anti-nice, and besides, he loved spreading his pessimism around. But with all the others gone and only one person relying on him, a person that, for some reason, he admired, he couldn't help it. He promised himself that this attitude of his would only last until they were back with the group, then all bets were off.

A soft murmur from Diana drew his eyes over to her sleeping form. She was extremely beautiful in repose with the fire dancing over her strong features. Her lips shimmered in the light, and Eric couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss her. His mind lingered on the thought…the pleasure.

Scowling, he returned his attention to the fire. They were friends, nothing more. Besides, she wasn't even his type. Didn't they argue all the time? Didn't she think he was irresponsible, selfish, snobby, and sarcastic? Wasn't she athletic and smart and brave, which was everything he wasn't? It was a pointless waste of energy to dwell on even the possibility. They were opposites. Just…opposite.

Something in his mind changed his train of thought immediately. For all the time he'd spent in danger, or going into danger, he'd developed an early warning system, sort of like a tornado siren blaring at the back of his head. Someone was watching him and maybe it just wasn't one person. Or thing, a voice said anxiously. As carefully as he could, he shifted closer to Diana. He gently placed a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't wake up with a startled noise.

"Pssst," he hissed lowly. His heart was thudding noisily in his chest, and he was surprised that it didn't thunder against his breastplate. "Psssst."

"Hmm?" she groaned, coming around slightly.

"Diana," Eric whispered as quietly as he could. He could hardly hear himself over the terror screaming in his ears. "There's som-"

Eric was hit on the back of the head and was immediately rendered unconscious. Before he slumped over into the fire, two human-like hands caught him. Diana stirred, rolled over, and fell back into a deep sleep. She was gently placed in a stretcher, as Eric was carried over a broad, furry shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The fire was put out, and no trace of Eric or Diana remained there the next morning.

A/N: So what do you think? Next chapter: Eric's obnoxious behavior comes in handy, and a little bit of self-gratifying romance occurs.