Chapter 2
Hello again. That first part was definitely boring, but this next part is just a little more entertaining. This next chapter is from Dalamar's POV. In this chapter, you can get a good look at what Dalamar is thinking. (Or at least what I think he is thinking. ^.^) Here is where everything starts moving rather quickly so try to keep up. Inner thought is no longer distinguished by Italics, because inner thought will now be narration, instead Italics will represent the strange little conscience- type voices of the characters. No slashyness as of yet, if you will please have patience, good things are always worth the wait. ^. ~
Please enjoy chapter 2
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Chapter Two
I placed my hand on the knob; when I hear him answer, I take a deep breath and enter his study. I bow respectfully. I raise my eyes to meet his level stare. The morning sun glitters though the open window filling the room with autumn sunshine. I watch as the light plays upon his skin, casting shadows here and there, making him look mysterious and powerful; even more so than usual. My eyes travel his person as I take in every inch of his beauty. His long silky, silvery hair, his thin slopping shoulders draped in fine black velvet robes that stand in heavy contrast to his pale golden-tinged skin, but the one thing my eyes stop upon, are always drawn to, are those eyes. Those cruel, but wonderful hourglass eyes draw me into their depths and hold me there for long moments. The sun lights upon them, turning them from cold, dark, ice-like mirrors to hot, smoldering pools of golden magma and back again. They see though me, burning with the heat of a thousand suns, scorching my soul but at the same time chilling me to the very bone. The eyes that see all but tell nothing. They simply stare at me, revealing nothing of their owner yet making me feel utterly exposed.
"Yes, Dalamar." I forgot I was simply staring at him from a half-bowed position. I redden slightly in embarrassment.
"Good morning Shalafi, will you be taking your tea or breakfast this morning?" I try to play it off hoping those eyes did not see what I was trying to hide. He smiles coolly at me, not giving any indication whether he noticed or not.
"Why yes. Today I think I will have both. My tea, as always, and some fresh fruit. Yes that would be most enjoyable. He leans back into his chair, lacing his fingers in contentment.
"Will that be all Shalafi?" I question my tone cool and indifferent, despite the fire and butterflies that wage war upon my insides. He simply nods.
I returned to his study several minutes later, with a tray of fresh fruits and cakes. I know Shalafi didn't ask for cakes but I know he will enjoy them. Melons, grapes, apples, and cherries cut and prepared just as he likes; sweet cakes, cinnamon rolls, and biscuits with honey fresh from the oven. Everything as he likes it. Even his tea with a teaspoon of honey to lighten the bitterness of the herbs, was prepared perfectly; I hope he notices. I live for his praise, the touch of an encouraging hand upon my shoulder, a kind gesture, anything! If it comes from him, I adore it. I even enjoy the cynical sarcastic remarks he makes towards me.
I found him sitting by the fire, his window curtains drawn, so no light could come in. He doesn't enjoy light from the sun. He says it is useless and it gives him no warmth. No matter where in the tower he is, he always lights a fire. 'It helps me think,' he once said. I walked silently, so not to disturb him, and placed the tray on the small table beside him.
"Will there be anything else, Shalafi?" Again, I bow.
"No, Dalamar. There will be nothing else." I wait to be dismissed as always. He turns to look upon the tray. A smile that almost reaches his eyes crosses his thin, beautiful features. He shook his head. "I only asked for fruit, you brought me cakes as well?" Oh no, he sounds displeased I did not follow his instructions precisely. I falter for only a second, quickly regaining my composure; bowing my head and averting my eyes, I meekly respond.
"I thought you might enjoy some cakes as well. My apologies Shalafi."
"For what? Anticipating my needs? That is nothing to be sorry for." His voice was gentle now, almost inviting. "Come, sit, and eat with me apprentice." He makes a small gesture to a chair against the far wall. This time I feel myself flush visibly.
"Oh no Shalafi, I could not impose." I stammer out something to the extent of needing to study, but he brushes it off with a slight laugh and a wave of a well-formed, slim-fingered hand.
"Nonsense. Come and eat with me Dalamar." This time, a command, not a suggestion. I turn to retrieve the chair. I walk slowly and deliberately, determined he not see my trembling. I do not know whether from joy, excitement, or fear, but I know my body is trembling. I can feel his golden eyes bore into my back like roots though the ground. It's so intense that I shiver involuntarily, even with the immense heat radiating from the hearth.
I place the chair opposite to his, the table between us. He takes a small piece of melon and nibbles at it. "Ah, very sweet." I nod taking a piece for myself. A small bite proves him right, it was indeed very sweet, a lovely taste in my mouth. I had forgotten that I, in my morning rush, neglected to feed myself and found that I was most hungry.
I was aware of him watching me, but his gaze felt neither angry nor critical, it was slightly amused and somewhat warmer. After eating our fill, we sat back in our chairs and simply watched the fire. Neither of us said a word for some time. I had the extreme urge to take my leave many times in those several minutes where the silence was almost unbearable. I should probably be studying, cooking, something! Not just sitting here twiddling my thumbs. Ask him you fool. The small voice in my head screamed as I looked at him, his beautiful profile lit with the warm amber glow from the fire. Do it, now or never. You will never have a chance like this again. The voice was right, I had to do it now, or I never would. I swallowed hard and broke the lingering silence.
"Shalafi?"
"Yes." He answered, not looking at me.
"May I.may I ask you a question?" I can do this. I know I can.
"Yes, of course. What is it?" Now he looks at me. Why did he have to look at me, with those heated golden eyes and that all-knowing look? I fidget under his gaze.
"If a person.I mean, a student." I can no longer stand to look at him; I clasp my hands in my lap and glance at the folds of my robes. ".were to, let's say, fall in love with somebody close to them. Should they express those feelings to that person or not? Is it appropriate?" I was finally able to meet is level stare with one of my own. I saw something flash in his eyes, hold there for a second, and then flicker into nonexistence.
"Well." he began, clearing his throat. "I believe that one should always be true to one's feelings. If, of course, one dose not mind the consequences." He said this all very coolly, very matter-of-factly, but the glass-like surface of his eyes cracked for that one moment, allowing me to see what lied within; a fire that burned uncontrollably, hot and wild threatening to consume. When the mirror replaced itself, his eyes had visibly darkened; but not with anger or hatred, no it was something else. Before I knew it, I was out of my chair knelling in front of him, clutching his bone-thin hands in my own.
"Do you mean that Shalafi?" I was vaguely aware, though my haze of delight, of him. His fingers were clammy and his palms were sweaty and cold, but the touch of his fingers was hot, like touching a pan fresh from the oven. It burned, but it was not painful; it was exhilarating.
"Of course Dalamar, I mean everything I say." There was, I'm sure, supposed to be a hint of reproach in his tone, but it was not there. These words came out no more than a breathy whisper. Do it! I listened to the voice in my head for once.
"Shalafi, I have something to tell you." He looks down at me and, without a word, nods for me to continue. "I think.No. I know. Shalafi; Raistlin, I love you."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------
Well that was chapter two, how'd you like it? I thought it was a little fluffy for a yaui, but it gets better trust me. I wrote it. Please, like always write and review or, as I said last time, you could just read the whole story. Well anyway, TTFN, Ta ta for now.
Hello again. That first part was definitely boring, but this next part is just a little more entertaining. This next chapter is from Dalamar's POV. In this chapter, you can get a good look at what Dalamar is thinking. (Or at least what I think he is thinking. ^.^) Here is where everything starts moving rather quickly so try to keep up. Inner thought is no longer distinguished by Italics, because inner thought will now be narration, instead Italics will represent the strange little conscience- type voices of the characters. No slashyness as of yet, if you will please have patience, good things are always worth the wait. ^. ~
Please enjoy chapter 2
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Chapter Two
I placed my hand on the knob; when I hear him answer, I take a deep breath and enter his study. I bow respectfully. I raise my eyes to meet his level stare. The morning sun glitters though the open window filling the room with autumn sunshine. I watch as the light plays upon his skin, casting shadows here and there, making him look mysterious and powerful; even more so than usual. My eyes travel his person as I take in every inch of his beauty. His long silky, silvery hair, his thin slopping shoulders draped in fine black velvet robes that stand in heavy contrast to his pale golden-tinged skin, but the one thing my eyes stop upon, are always drawn to, are those eyes. Those cruel, but wonderful hourglass eyes draw me into their depths and hold me there for long moments. The sun lights upon them, turning them from cold, dark, ice-like mirrors to hot, smoldering pools of golden magma and back again. They see though me, burning with the heat of a thousand suns, scorching my soul but at the same time chilling me to the very bone. The eyes that see all but tell nothing. They simply stare at me, revealing nothing of their owner yet making me feel utterly exposed.
"Yes, Dalamar." I forgot I was simply staring at him from a half-bowed position. I redden slightly in embarrassment.
"Good morning Shalafi, will you be taking your tea or breakfast this morning?" I try to play it off hoping those eyes did not see what I was trying to hide. He smiles coolly at me, not giving any indication whether he noticed or not.
"Why yes. Today I think I will have both. My tea, as always, and some fresh fruit. Yes that would be most enjoyable. He leans back into his chair, lacing his fingers in contentment.
"Will that be all Shalafi?" I question my tone cool and indifferent, despite the fire and butterflies that wage war upon my insides. He simply nods.
I returned to his study several minutes later, with a tray of fresh fruits and cakes. I know Shalafi didn't ask for cakes but I know he will enjoy them. Melons, grapes, apples, and cherries cut and prepared just as he likes; sweet cakes, cinnamon rolls, and biscuits with honey fresh from the oven. Everything as he likes it. Even his tea with a teaspoon of honey to lighten the bitterness of the herbs, was prepared perfectly; I hope he notices. I live for his praise, the touch of an encouraging hand upon my shoulder, a kind gesture, anything! If it comes from him, I adore it. I even enjoy the cynical sarcastic remarks he makes towards me.
I found him sitting by the fire, his window curtains drawn, so no light could come in. He doesn't enjoy light from the sun. He says it is useless and it gives him no warmth. No matter where in the tower he is, he always lights a fire. 'It helps me think,' he once said. I walked silently, so not to disturb him, and placed the tray on the small table beside him.
"Will there be anything else, Shalafi?" Again, I bow.
"No, Dalamar. There will be nothing else." I wait to be dismissed as always. He turns to look upon the tray. A smile that almost reaches his eyes crosses his thin, beautiful features. He shook his head. "I only asked for fruit, you brought me cakes as well?" Oh no, he sounds displeased I did not follow his instructions precisely. I falter for only a second, quickly regaining my composure; bowing my head and averting my eyes, I meekly respond.
"I thought you might enjoy some cakes as well. My apologies Shalafi."
"For what? Anticipating my needs? That is nothing to be sorry for." His voice was gentle now, almost inviting. "Come, sit, and eat with me apprentice." He makes a small gesture to a chair against the far wall. This time I feel myself flush visibly.
"Oh no Shalafi, I could not impose." I stammer out something to the extent of needing to study, but he brushes it off with a slight laugh and a wave of a well-formed, slim-fingered hand.
"Nonsense. Come and eat with me Dalamar." This time, a command, not a suggestion. I turn to retrieve the chair. I walk slowly and deliberately, determined he not see my trembling. I do not know whether from joy, excitement, or fear, but I know my body is trembling. I can feel his golden eyes bore into my back like roots though the ground. It's so intense that I shiver involuntarily, even with the immense heat radiating from the hearth.
I place the chair opposite to his, the table between us. He takes a small piece of melon and nibbles at it. "Ah, very sweet." I nod taking a piece for myself. A small bite proves him right, it was indeed very sweet, a lovely taste in my mouth. I had forgotten that I, in my morning rush, neglected to feed myself and found that I was most hungry.
I was aware of him watching me, but his gaze felt neither angry nor critical, it was slightly amused and somewhat warmer. After eating our fill, we sat back in our chairs and simply watched the fire. Neither of us said a word for some time. I had the extreme urge to take my leave many times in those several minutes where the silence was almost unbearable. I should probably be studying, cooking, something! Not just sitting here twiddling my thumbs. Ask him you fool. The small voice in my head screamed as I looked at him, his beautiful profile lit with the warm amber glow from the fire. Do it, now or never. You will never have a chance like this again. The voice was right, I had to do it now, or I never would. I swallowed hard and broke the lingering silence.
"Shalafi?"
"Yes." He answered, not looking at me.
"May I.may I ask you a question?" I can do this. I know I can.
"Yes, of course. What is it?" Now he looks at me. Why did he have to look at me, with those heated golden eyes and that all-knowing look? I fidget under his gaze.
"If a person.I mean, a student." I can no longer stand to look at him; I clasp my hands in my lap and glance at the folds of my robes. ".were to, let's say, fall in love with somebody close to them. Should they express those feelings to that person or not? Is it appropriate?" I was finally able to meet is level stare with one of my own. I saw something flash in his eyes, hold there for a second, and then flicker into nonexistence.
"Well." he began, clearing his throat. "I believe that one should always be true to one's feelings. If, of course, one dose not mind the consequences." He said this all very coolly, very matter-of-factly, but the glass-like surface of his eyes cracked for that one moment, allowing me to see what lied within; a fire that burned uncontrollably, hot and wild threatening to consume. When the mirror replaced itself, his eyes had visibly darkened; but not with anger or hatred, no it was something else. Before I knew it, I was out of my chair knelling in front of him, clutching his bone-thin hands in my own.
"Do you mean that Shalafi?" I was vaguely aware, though my haze of delight, of him. His fingers were clammy and his palms were sweaty and cold, but the touch of his fingers was hot, like touching a pan fresh from the oven. It burned, but it was not painful; it was exhilarating.
"Of course Dalamar, I mean everything I say." There was, I'm sure, supposed to be a hint of reproach in his tone, but it was not there. These words came out no more than a breathy whisper. Do it! I listened to the voice in my head for once.
"Shalafi, I have something to tell you." He looks down at me and, without a word, nods for me to continue. "I think.No. I know. Shalafi; Raistlin, I love you."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------
Well that was chapter two, how'd you like it? I thought it was a little fluffy for a yaui, but it gets better trust me. I wrote it. Please, like always write and review or, as I said last time, you could just read the whole story. Well anyway, TTFN, Ta ta for now.