Insomnia
Though he i is /i pretty powerful and all, Raistlin has come to discover that there are a few things that one cannot escape when sleeping for unnaturally long periods of time. One is bed head, another was getting hopelessly tangled in the sheets, but the most irritating was the dreams.
Oh, there were some that he knew he was definitely asleep during, but there tended to be others that were questionable at best. That tried his patience, it did. He was not a counselor to the gods (who, during these dreams, or not, seemed to have deemed it fit to prattle on to him until he threw a pillow at them for lack of anything better). They all started the same too. He'd roll over to the left side of the bed and then --
"Hullo!"
He bit his pillow in a moment of rage. Opening a bleary eye, the awaken face his visitor. And then hissed into his pillow, getting a good grip on it, to be sure. He shifted the whole of his face to wholly annoying Fizban (honestly, what does go through the head of these entities?).
"I see you like the sleep." Comes the first remark. He prefers to honor that with a grunt before realizing that he's managed to get his left foot tied up again.
"How goes the dreaming?"
Snort. The foot refuses to come loose.
"I'll bet a young fellow like yourself could use a good one."
Impassive hand gesture. Great, he even got it hooked on the bedpost.
"I happen to know a really -- "
"No thank you." Raistlin manages to snap, remembering how often that phrase was terribly unlucky. He tugs with futility at the stubborn sheets.
"But it's really -- "
"No."
"I promise -- "
"No."
"Since you've been good -- "
"No."
"I think it would -- "
"No."
"That pretty cleric -- "
"No."
"I think you need -- "
"No."
" -- a good wet dream."
Raistlin pauses, forgetting now about the sheets and his tethered foot. His eyes dart between his hand on the pillow and on the smug god. Skies above, he did not just say that. The air of confusion has evaporate from around the dirty fellow in question, and he speaks altogether clearly.
"That pretty, pretty cleric. I should think that she would be an excellent subject to mull over while asleep, eh?"
Raistlin chucks his pillow, misses and realizes that he's rather awake now. He can't find the right words to answer. Indeed, the god vanishes momentarily and soon Raistlin gets his foot free and soothes (somewhat) that incorrigible bedhead.
He is a little more than furious at the offer (aren't his regular dreams about magic and conquest enough?), but as he leans back to slip into dreamland once more, he finds he is now under the influence of a disease he has not suffered from in decades.
Insomnia.
Damn it.
Note: Silliness; I was just thinking about how people supposedly lie awake at night thinking about x person for x reason. Something like that would be a bit of a hitch for eternal sleeping, I should think.