So I know some of you have been waiting patiently for this chapter, and I'm sorry about how much time has passed. I don't even know how long it's been. To be honest, school got REAL and I was forced to put fic aside for a little while, and then I began working on some other more controversial stuff that would probably receive many negative reactions on . So I've been writing elsewhere and the other thing I'm working on seriously took over my life. Then finals happened, and now I'm on winter break. Let me know if you're interested in a really uncomfortable story because I've got one going now, lol, but without further ado and with a boatload of apology – let Blade's Edge continue!
b - l - a - d - e' - s - - e - d - g - e
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Sikeen's plan to have Dalamar deliver the tea to Raistlin was marred with a fatal flaw – he simply wasn't available when she had to tend to her duties. Searching the entire tower for him would have been time-consuming and exhausting, especially during the day, when she preferred to be sleeping. With her shoulders thrown back in an effort to feign confidence where she knew she had very little, she dragged herself up the stairs, tea in hand. It was dawn, and Raistlin would be up. Unusually tense, she opened the door.
He was bent over his desk, the sunrise beginning to cast its glow through the window. It was unusual for him to pull the curtains back this early, but she wasn't about to comment. When he didn't look up, she paced forward as silently as she could and put the tea next to his notebook.
"You're dismissed," he said absently, scrawling. She didn't question it. If he wanted to let her leave without bringing up the night before, she most certainly would.
The hours leading up to the following delivery were miserable. Perhaps he hadn't yet figured out how to call her out on her actions. Maybe now he would. She'd steeled herself, preparing the tea perfectly. It was just as she was about to leave that Dalamar walked in, nabbing a banana from the fruit basket. Her heart soared.
"Dalamar! Take this to Raistlin!" He stared at her, mouth full of banana.
"You mean Shalafi?"
"For Gods' sake, don't speak with your mouth full." He swallowed, rolling his eyes.
"Why should I?"
"I thought you were the one who wanted to be friends again," she said, throwing in a slight pout for conviction. It seemed to do the trick. Dalamar sighed, placing his half-eaten banana on the counter, and took the tea from the counter.
"Are you generally friends with your free labor?" he asked on his way out the door. He sounded like he was pitying himself. Sikeen didn't even bother replying, rolling her eyes at his back. Had he forgotten that she was the free labor? He was doing her a favor. In fact, after the stunt he'd pulled earlier, anything he did for her now could be considered a favor as far as she was concerned.
She listened from the bottom of the stairs as he entered Raistlin's room, dropped off the tea, and then came back down to disappear into his own quarters. The banana lay abandoned on the counter and she wondered if he'd forgotten about it.
For what felt like a week, the deliveries all went the same way. She would either silently drop off the tea or hound Dalamar into doing it for her. Both methods seemed just as good – Raistlin didn't exhibit any desire to speak to her when she dropped off the tea, anyway. But staying away from him helped her feel safe. Whether or not he was in love with her, she couldn't let herself become vulnerable to him. So for that, she minded her distance.
In reality, Raistlin didn't know what to do. He'd learned long ago that the best thing to say when one wasn't sure what made sense was nothing at all. So he stayed quiet whenever she was around, if only to avoid saying the wrong thing. He'd noticed that Dalamar was delivering his tea more and more often these days, however, and it irritated him. It gave the impression that she was avoiding him. Somehow, that hurt. After letting him kiss her, she was already pushing him away.
His feelings of rejection was just another reason to stay silent when she came near. But every time she came and left, the memory of the night she'd climbed on top of him became fresh in his mind once again. He would dismiss her and listen to the door shut only to battle a tinge of emptiness that persisted no matter how much time passed. Though he'd never admit it, it was maddening.
After all, he shouldn't feel rejected at all. Whatever reason she was avoiding him for had to have been a good one. Nothing should have happened between them, and after coming onto him she was right to avoid him. She was too young for him, and she was dangerous, in her own way.
But he had a feeling it had more to do with what he did to her than the harm she was capable of.
One day, she didn't appear at all, Dalamar taking her place for every delivery. It wasn't the first day that had passed without her appearance, but Raistlin was fed up with finding Dalamar where she should have been. So the next time she happened to come by, he mentioned it.
"Dalamar isn't to deliver tea anymore," he said, staring at his book. He'd been sitting in his usual chair by the fire. With great care, he made sure to let his eyes scan the page as if he were reading, never mind the fact that he couldn't focus with her standing there. She swallowed and refused to let herself look at him.
"And why not?" she asked. Though her words would suggest defiance, she spoke quietly. It was unusual for her, and he wasn't sure he appreciated it.
"What was that?" She sighed.
"And why not, Shalafi?" Thank Gods she'd cracked. So that headstrong, reckless girl was still in there somewhere.
"Because it's your job. Dalamar has his own duties."
"Such as?"
"You're not to ask questions."
And you're not to fall in love with the prisoner, she wanted to add. But it was quite clear to her by now that she couldn't take advantage of his feelings for her. In fact, by now, they might have disappeared. She'd been avoiding him for so long she'd almost forgotten what his voice sounded like, and what that crackling firelight looked like dancing off his velvet robes. It occurred to her that this was the first time she'd gotten a good look at him since what had happened.
His eyes remained trained on the massive tome he'd been reading. So he didn't even want to look at her. Wonderful.
She kicked herself – that was a good thing. The less he looked at her, the less vulnerable she was. If he looked at her too hard, he might see that she was confused about how she felt about him, too.
But here he was, throwing a wrench in her plan to get Dalamar to deliver as much tea as possible. What could she do about that? Would Raistlin seek her out to punish her if she simply asked Dalamar to continue the deliveries? Or would he send Dalamar back every time to force her to bring the tea? Why was it so important anyway? Delivering tea for her never seemed to be any great trouble for Dalamar. Sometimes he even did it willingly. She cleared her throat, deciding to think about it later.
"Am I dismissed, then?" She almost stopped there. "Shalafi?" she added quickly. He seemed to think for a moment before replying.
"Yes, you're dismissed."
She pressed her lips together and escaped out the door. As she left, Raistlin turned to watch her go. It was the hundredth time, it seemed, he'd watched her go. It never got any easier.
He lay awake that night, going over all the reasons why he had to maintain his distance from her. Sure, she was too young for him, and he made her feel more strongly than he would have preferred. But there were practical reasons why it couldn't work between them as well. For one, they were trapped in the Tower together. And if they began a relationship and it went bad, well… They would still be forced to live together.
It was true – part of him wanted to let her leave. He would have been happy to see her free, at least to some extent, but she seemed to be aware of how he felt and would only be using him. His pride would never allow for that. Aside from that, the Conclave would find out, and they would know it was he who allowed her escape. No one else could bid leave from the Tower. And he certainly didn't need that particular headache.
Then there was Dalamar. Though it wasn't clear to him whether or not Dalamar harbored any feelings toward Sikeen, it would become uncomfortable to be living with both his apprentice and a lover. Keeping it a secret from him was a preposterous idea. He would find out eventually. How would he react? Raistlin had no way of knowing. Dalamar held no power over him, but he had a remarkable ability to sulk for weeks. It was irritating.
On top of all that, he would have to sacrifice his pride in order to get close to anyone at all, let alone Sikeen. Right now, he enjoyed his reputation as the most powerful mortal being. If it became known – somehow – that he had taken a prisoner as his lover, he knew that reputation would suffer. He was supposed to be strong. And strength implied independence, which love would only deter.
It was difficult to admit, but part of him wanted to let someone have power over him. Insisting upon loneliness took its toll on him, and he knew she could understand that. She could also understand why he needed to stay lonely. How could she not? She was the same way.
There was simply no way to convince himself that getting closer to her was a good idea. So why was it that despite all these reasons to stay away, he still couldn't believe it was the best thing to do?
Sikeen couldn't make sense of it. Perhaps he did still care about her – after all, he was forcing her to make all the deliveries herself. But she couldn't quite trust that. If he had feelings for her, wouldn't he at least look at her when she walked in? No, wouldn't he at least react?
Maybe Dalamar really did have other things to get to, and he hadn't let on that he was busier than she could see. That made the most sense. Settling for that explanation, she forced herself to continue delivering the tea. It was difficult to get used to the constant cold shoulder, but it was her only option.
A curious thing began happening as she grew more and more accustomed to the silence. Though she knew her hopes of escape were more or less dashed, the Tower started feeling less and less like a prison. Had this happened last time she was trapped? No, that place had never felt like home. But the Tower…
She hadn't had a proper home in a long time. Years, easily. Maybe being stuck in the Tower had forced her to start feeling as if it were home. After all, it had been a few months now. When was the last time she had stayed somewhere so long? She couldn't remember.
It was almost funny – when she'd arrived here, she'd had no intention of being here this long. But the time had passed. In hindsight, it didn't seem as bad as she'd imagined at first. So maybe it would be okay in the future.
She shook her head, erasing the thoughts from her mind. No, it would never be okay. This place was her prison, and she had to escape. Eventually, she would. Satisfied with the prospect of "eventually," she pushed the thought away.
AN: Phew! Hope you liked it! Please drop me a review and/or message or whatever. They definitely keep me motivated. I got a couple reminding me to work on Blade's Edge and if it wasn't for those I probably would have assumed no one cared and let it disappear ): So please review/message! And thanks for reading!