Author's Note: This is my first story on here. I noticed that there aren't really very many good Dalamar fanfics, or really good Dragonlance fanfics. The only romantic ones involving Dalamar are all slash, and very unrealistic and untrue to the characters. There is only one "straight" Dalamar fanfic, but it hasn't been updated in about three years.

A/N 2: I do not own Dalamar Argent or any of the characters in the Dragonlance world, except for the characters I made up myself.

"Dalamar…"

The dark elf's tongue slipped between her warm, soft lips. He pressed her down into the bed sheets, moving himself between her legs. She ran her fingers through his soft, silken hair. She gasped as he pulled away—only for a moment—to undress her.

She gasped again when she felt his warm hands on her bare waist…she felt him, hard, under the velvet softness of his robes.

She was suddenly afraid. Nepara closed her eyes tightly.

Dalamar looked down at her, realizing that she was afraid. She was, after all, a virgin. She had never been touched this way before.

He didn't know what he felt for her, except that he regarded her differently than he did any of his other lovers. He wanted her to feel safe. He knew she was nervous, afraid, and he wanted to comfort her.

He sat up and undressed himself. And then, very gently, he took her hands in his. She did not open her eyes, but he could feel her trembling in his grasp. The dark elf guided her hands over his body, allowing her to feel his hard, muscled chest, his smooth, slender torso. Her hands twitched, almost jerked away, as they rested on a small patch of curls.

"Young one?"

Nepara glanced up. "Yes?"

The corner of the mage's mouth twitched, almost becoming a smile. "You appear to be distracted."

"Oh! I'm sorry."

The mage smiled. "It's all right, Nepara. Now, come, sit. I've been waiting for you."

Nepara walked over to his desk, taking a seat opposite of him. The mage removed his black hood, revealing wispy white hair and golden skin, with a faint metallic cast to it. His glittering golden irises surrounded two black, hourglass-shaped pupils.

"It has been a long time since we've last talked," Nepara whispered, feeling the heat of his stare.

"It has indeed." The remark was cold. "There is a matter you wished to discuss?"

Nepara swallowed hard. "You already know about Dalamar."

Raistlin nodded.

"I—I didn't want to like him. I wanted to hate him, because of what he's doing to you—or is going to. But I…I can't. Raistlin, I—"

"—you love him."

It was Nepara's turn to nod.

He was soft. As Dalamar's hand pressed hers against him, she trembled with both trepidation and awe. Dalamar groaned softly. After a few moments she, hesitantly, pulled her hands away from him.

Dalamar sighed and carefully wrapped his arms around her. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she said, as Dalamar shifted on top of her.

"You slept with him."

Tears filled Nepara's eyes as she looked at her friend, her best friend. But Raistlin did not appear reproachful. Instead, he wore on his face a thoughtful look, one that Nepara knew all too well.

"I'm afraid," she confessed.

"Of what?" Raistlin asked curiously.

"He isn't a very sentimental lover...is he?"

Raistlin smirked. "How should I know?"

"I-I just mean, I don't think he'll...stay with me."

"You're looking for a committed relationship, young one. I don't know that you'll get it from him. What did you say to him, the other night?"

Nepara's eyes stared down at her feet now. "I told him I was ready. But I never..." she took a deep breath, "I never told him how I really felt."