Chapter 4
Dalamar lay on his back on his bed, looking at the ceiling. Tears were still streaming down his face, but he did nothing to neither aid them nor stop them. He just lay there, looking unresponsively at the ceiling. He could have been like this for hours, but he had lost track of the time. The Dark Elf was sure that Raistlin would have sent word to Par-Salian about him now, which made the tears come quicker. He did not want to leave his Archmage lover, but it was obviously what was expected of him. Had it been anyone else, he would have said to the Abyss with what was expected and done what he wanted to do. But he respected Raistlin far too much to disobey him. Dalamar would do anything to please him, and it seemed that what he wanted right now, was for Dalamar to leave.
The wound on his head was throbbing still. Blood was oozing from it, mingling with the tears. It would have hurt if Dalamar had not been so deep in thought. He felt like throwing himself at Raistlin's feet and pleading forgiveness, sobbing begging him not to make him leave. But he would just be demeaning himself, and it would just serve to displease his Shalafi further. And that was the last thing he wanted to do right now.
Raistlin stopped outside Dalamar's door. He had not seen the Dark Elf for hours. The Archmage had just sent word to Par-Salian, telling him of Dalamar's return to the Tower of High Sorcery at Wayreth. He was in tears when he had done this, sending a magical message to the Master of the Conclave. He felt the least he could do was ask he apprentice to forgive him before he left. Taking a deep breath to gather his courage, Raistlin Majere knocked on the door.
Dalamar opened the door, but it was not what Raistlin was waiting to see. Instead of the polite but defiant looking apprentice and lover he was expecting, the Dark Elf standing in front of him looked worn down and weary. Half of his face was covered in the blood from the wound Raistlin had inflicted, the other half tear streaked and his eyes were half lidded and reddened.
"Gods." Raistlin breathed. He was instantly distressed by the state his love was in and briefly wondered why he had not yet cleaned the wound on his head. He looked at Dalamar pleadingly, hoping for forgiveness and to be granted entry into Dalamar's room. Dalamar stepped back to let him pass.
Once Raistlin was in the bedchamber and had put down his staff, he moved close to Dalamar and took his head lightly in both hands. He moved it at all angles, inspecting the wound on the Dark Elf's head. Then he looked deeply into Dalamar's dimmed green eyes.
"You have mild concussion," he concluded, letting go of Dalamar. "Nothing serious, it will be fine after a good night's sleep. This wound, you must get it healed by the dark clerics, or else it will need stitches." He rushed away from Dalamar, going to the water basin and dampening a cloth to clean his head and face with. Dalamar watched his Shalafi busy himself at the basin and felt himself move forward. He couldn't help it, he need to feel his lover one more time. Reaching Raistlin's back, he put his arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. Raistlin stopped what he was doing and sighed contentedly. Dalamar rested his head on his Shalafi's back, between his shoulder blades.
They stood like that for a few moments, letting all that had gone before that day slip from their minds for a while, relishing each other's touch. The tought of not having this closeness to his apprentice frightened Raistlin.Then Raistlin took up the damp cloth again and turned around to face Dalamar. Gently, he wiped away the blood and tears that had stained the beautiful Dark Elf's face. The wound had already begun to heal, and Raistlin conceded that Dalamar might not have to have it stitched after all. Once he was clean, Dalamar leaned in close for a kiss.
Raistlin felt like all of his worries and concerns had been pushed from his mind during that one passionate kiss. He and Dalamar would be together forever, happy and contented in each other's arms. He loved his Dark Elf, and would never do anything to hurt him. However, again, the image of Takhisis flashed across his closed eyes, but this time he did not draw away from the burning lips. He pleaded with her silently, Just one more night, please. I'll cast the spell after that. Please. Just give me one more night.
Takhisis' image disappeared from his vision, and he smiled against Dalamar's mouth. He would have his last afternoon and night with his gorgeous apprentice.
Dalamar broke the kiss first and looked into Raistlin's eyes. The glow in the green Elven eyes had almost returned, Raistlin noted. Almost.
It was noon and the Sun was high outside. It shined through the window, into Dalamar's hair, making it look like a collection of dark copper threads in a vast, black sea. Raistlin stroked the soft mass with his slender fingers before placing kisses on it, occasionally kissing or nipping at a sensitive pointed ear, making Dalamar moan happily.
"I'm sorry." The apology was so soft that Raistlin was not sure he had actually heard it. But the warm breath that landed on his ear as it was uttered again reassured him that his Elf had said it. The Archmage pulled back to look again into slanted eyes.
"I told you," he whispered. "You do not need to apologise. It is I that should he begging you for forgiveness."
"There is nothing to forgive, Shalafi."
Raistlin stroked the area around the wound on Dalamar's head. "I think that there is a great deal for you to forgive me for."
"Let's not think of that now." Dalamar's words were almost pleading. He looked at Raistlin as if asking for something. Raistlin understood immediately.
"I love you, Dalamar," he said, moving close and kissing Dalamar's neck over again.
"I love you too, Raistlin," the Dark Elf replied, moaning softly when Raistlin moved his robes down his shoulders as far as it would go without undoing it and kissing the newly exposed flesh.
The Archmage sighed as he felt his apprentice's hands seek out his own flesh, undoing the clasps that held on his black robes. Raistlin guided Dalamar over to the bed, pushing his Dark Elf onto the deep red surface beneath them.
Dalamar lay on his back on his bed, looking at the ceiling. Tears were still streaming down his face, but he did nothing to neither aid them nor stop them. He just lay there, looking unresponsively at the ceiling. He could have been like this for hours, but he had lost track of the time. The Dark Elf was sure that Raistlin would have sent word to Par-Salian about him now, which made the tears come quicker. He did not want to leave his Archmage lover, but it was obviously what was expected of him. Had it been anyone else, he would have said to the Abyss with what was expected and done what he wanted to do. But he respected Raistlin far too much to disobey him. Dalamar would do anything to please him, and it seemed that what he wanted right now, was for Dalamar to leave.
The wound on his head was throbbing still. Blood was oozing from it, mingling with the tears. It would have hurt if Dalamar had not been so deep in thought. He felt like throwing himself at Raistlin's feet and pleading forgiveness, sobbing begging him not to make him leave. But he would just be demeaning himself, and it would just serve to displease his Shalafi further. And that was the last thing he wanted to do right now.
Raistlin stopped outside Dalamar's door. He had not seen the Dark Elf for hours. The Archmage had just sent word to Par-Salian, telling him of Dalamar's return to the Tower of High Sorcery at Wayreth. He was in tears when he had done this, sending a magical message to the Master of the Conclave. He felt the least he could do was ask he apprentice to forgive him before he left. Taking a deep breath to gather his courage, Raistlin Majere knocked on the door.
Dalamar opened the door, but it was not what Raistlin was waiting to see. Instead of the polite but defiant looking apprentice and lover he was expecting, the Dark Elf standing in front of him looked worn down and weary. Half of his face was covered in the blood from the wound Raistlin had inflicted, the other half tear streaked and his eyes were half lidded and reddened.
"Gods." Raistlin breathed. He was instantly distressed by the state his love was in and briefly wondered why he had not yet cleaned the wound on his head. He looked at Dalamar pleadingly, hoping for forgiveness and to be granted entry into Dalamar's room. Dalamar stepped back to let him pass.
Once Raistlin was in the bedchamber and had put down his staff, he moved close to Dalamar and took his head lightly in both hands. He moved it at all angles, inspecting the wound on the Dark Elf's head. Then he looked deeply into Dalamar's dimmed green eyes.
"You have mild concussion," he concluded, letting go of Dalamar. "Nothing serious, it will be fine after a good night's sleep. This wound, you must get it healed by the dark clerics, or else it will need stitches." He rushed away from Dalamar, going to the water basin and dampening a cloth to clean his head and face with. Dalamar watched his Shalafi busy himself at the basin and felt himself move forward. He couldn't help it, he need to feel his lover one more time. Reaching Raistlin's back, he put his arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. Raistlin stopped what he was doing and sighed contentedly. Dalamar rested his head on his Shalafi's back, between his shoulder blades.
They stood like that for a few moments, letting all that had gone before that day slip from their minds for a while, relishing each other's touch. The tought of not having this closeness to his apprentice frightened Raistlin.Then Raistlin took up the damp cloth again and turned around to face Dalamar. Gently, he wiped away the blood and tears that had stained the beautiful Dark Elf's face. The wound had already begun to heal, and Raistlin conceded that Dalamar might not have to have it stitched after all. Once he was clean, Dalamar leaned in close for a kiss.
Raistlin felt like all of his worries and concerns had been pushed from his mind during that one passionate kiss. He and Dalamar would be together forever, happy and contented in each other's arms. He loved his Dark Elf, and would never do anything to hurt him. However, again, the image of Takhisis flashed across his closed eyes, but this time he did not draw away from the burning lips. He pleaded with her silently, Just one more night, please. I'll cast the spell after that. Please. Just give me one more night.
Takhisis' image disappeared from his vision, and he smiled against Dalamar's mouth. He would have his last afternoon and night with his gorgeous apprentice.
Dalamar broke the kiss first and looked into Raistlin's eyes. The glow in the green Elven eyes had almost returned, Raistlin noted. Almost.
It was noon and the Sun was high outside. It shined through the window, into Dalamar's hair, making it look like a collection of dark copper threads in a vast, black sea. Raistlin stroked the soft mass with his slender fingers before placing kisses on it, occasionally kissing or nipping at a sensitive pointed ear, making Dalamar moan happily.
"I'm sorry." The apology was so soft that Raistlin was not sure he had actually heard it. But the warm breath that landed on his ear as it was uttered again reassured him that his Elf had said it. The Archmage pulled back to look again into slanted eyes.
"I told you," he whispered. "You do not need to apologise. It is I that should he begging you for forgiveness."
"There is nothing to forgive, Shalafi."
Raistlin stroked the area around the wound on Dalamar's head. "I think that there is a great deal for you to forgive me for."
"Let's not think of that now." Dalamar's words were almost pleading. He looked at Raistlin as if asking for something. Raistlin understood immediately.
"I love you, Dalamar," he said, moving close and kissing Dalamar's neck over again.
"I love you too, Raistlin," the Dark Elf replied, moaning softly when Raistlin moved his robes down his shoulders as far as it would go without undoing it and kissing the newly exposed flesh.
The Archmage sighed as he felt his apprentice's hands seek out his own flesh, undoing the clasps that held on his black robes. Raistlin guided Dalamar over to the bed, pushing his Dark Elf onto the deep red surface beneath them.