Note: I'm really starting to enjoy writing fanfic. Previously, I wrote only
my own material, being as creative as I could to avoid using other material
from other authors. But this is fun, and I'm glad people seem to like it! I
hope you keep enjoying, and my writing doesn't start to get bad! Again,
please review! For my pride's sake! All kinds of comments are enjoyed! Oh,
and PLEASE don't steal Alira.I'm starting to get attached to her. If you
have questions/comments that you don't want to put in a REVIEW.you can
email me.
3:
Alira felt to awkward in Raistlin's presence after the experiment. She wasn't tired, but she still stayed still as she lay on her blanket on the ground. She kept her eyes closed, not truly feigning sleep, but not showing any signs of being alert.
Raistlin, however, didn't feel any need to fake sleep. He stayed up, next to the fire, reading and commending spells to his memory. At the same time, thoughts about Alira's so-called "experiment" kept creeping into his mind. It was interesting.that test actually seemed valid. Raistlin thought about this little theory, then shook the thought out of his head and concentrated on his spellbook instead.
A strange thing happened to Raistlin at that time. For the first time in his life, he actually didn't feel like studying. He felt more like doing something else, but he had no idea what he could want more than to study. Magic was his passion, so he swore to the three gods of magic. It surprised him, especially since he had no idea where such an idea had come into his head.an idea to do something else.
He closed his book, trying to figure out what he wanted. Aggravated, he put a hand to his head. Raistlin was used to being able to solve everything with a few moments of thought, and he gave up with a cry of frustration when he couldn't find an answer.
Alira gave a start when she heard him. "What is it? Is there someone there?"
"No, its nothing!" he snapped. Alira, at least, finally understood why he hadn't seemed as bad as he was supposed to be.she simply hadn't known him long enough.
"Right, I'm sure." Alira didn't try to disguise the sarcasm in her voice.
"Silence!" he cried, throwing a stick violently into the fire and gripping his staff tighter.
"Calm down. If you get excited, you'll probably start coughing again." She scolded. When he began coughing, she felt a short stab of triumph, followed by shame for feeling so at his expense.
She put water to boil when he started coughing.
Between bouts of coughing, he managed a sentence, "Not.going.to.ask me.how I'm feeling now.are you?"
She smiled. It was the closest thing to a joke he had said she since met him, though admittedly she hadn't know him long. Yet still, he didn't have a reputation for jokes, so she counted it a victory.
"I gave up on that a while ago." She responded, punctuating her sentence with a short laugh. She poured the water and added the tealeaves for him, handing it to him while he coughed. He sipped, and then emitted a strange sound. It seemed an unpracticed noise, and when Alira realized what it was, she nearly fell over. He was laughing! It wasn't unpleasant, but it was certainly odd.
He coughed again. "I don't.laugh often."
"So I heard." She replied. The silence that followed wasn't so awkward, this time. Alira poured some warm water for herself, adding normal tealeaves. They both sipped, him out of obligation, her out of propriety.
"It seems as though you know more of me than I of you." Raistlin said. He surprised Alira yet again this afternoon. He was actually making an attempt at conversation. She decided the best course of action would be to go along with it, perhaps encourage it.
"Well, what do you want to know?" she asked him warmly.
"I don't know."
Raistlin was not just surprising Alira, he was surprising himself. For once in his life, he was making an effort to get to know someone. But he was being honest when he told her he didn't know what he wanted to know about her. He didn't have much practice in prolonged conversation, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least try it.
"My father was a carpenter, and my mother wove cloth in her spare time for money. I was fairly little when two traveling mages came to our town, one was a red robe and one wore white. I remember a few of the townspeople weren't happy about them being there, but I thought it was interesting, and wonderful. As with most inns and taverns, they were the local place for everyone to spend their spare time with the other people of the town. One evening when I had spare time, I went over to the inn in an attempt to see if there was any news about the strangers. "I was absolutely tickled when I went there and saw them near the fire, talking to each other. I don't remember what they were saying, but I was interested. Apparently, I had slowly inched closer in my attempts to hear them, and I eventually ended up sitting next to them. I barely remember what happened, but they noticed me and started talking to me. The must have guessed that I had a gift for magic, because they asked to meet my parents. I was still a young child, so I saw nothing wrong with bringing perfect strangers to my house. Fortunately for me, they didn't have sinister intentions. I remember more clearly that after they visited I received a lengthy lecture about being careful around strangers. "But, anyway, my parents sent me away while they spoke to the mages, and I'm sure they tried to come with a few excuses to not send me to the nearest tower for teaching, but eventually the mages won them over somehow. I never really knew the details, but I know that a few days after the mages met my parents, my father hitched up our old mare and took me to the tower." Alira reminisced, not really paying attention to what she spoke. Instead, she did more thinking than talking. It was a fond memory, for her. "Your parents didn't want you to study magic?" he asked quietly. "No, they were more frightened at the prospect of me being gone for so long while I was young. After a while, they began to appreciate it, and when I was older they were very supportive." Raistlin thought it was interesting that her parents were supportive. His childhood had been strange, compared to what was considered normal. Then again, when were mages ever considered normal? "You were lucky." He said truthfully. "You're parents weren't supportive?" she said. It stunned her, since he had such talent! Anyone could tell that he was gifted for a mage, and yet his parents didn't support him? His cynical laugh confirmed her suspicions. "My father was never around. My mother was a sort of Seeress, but she was too different for anyone to stomach her for two long. Both died when I was rather young. They didn't really want me to go, they couldn't afford it. But my half-sister, Kitiara, she wanted me to be a mage so she could leave. She didn't want to leave my brother and me defenseless. Caramon had his sword, but I didn't have physical strength to save myself. I was lucky to have a gift for magic, or I would have to rely on Caramon the rest of my life. Once I was firmly into the arcane art, my sister left. Caramon took me to the tower, and brought me back. My mother stayed in the house, as usual. My father, I barely noticed." He said, his voice cold and factual. His eyes as he looked into the flames were mirrors, allowing no emotion to seep through at all. Alira was silent. She didn't know what to say after hearing him. "I'm.sorry. That wasn't the most tactful thing to say." An apology! Raistlin was turning human! "No, no. It's okay. I told you my end, you told me yours. We're even." She managed a smile, if a nervous one. Unfortunately, Raistlin was rather good at reading expressions, and her reaction kind of depressed him. It hit him. It was her! He wanted to talk to her! That's why he didn't want to study! At the same time he made the realization, he rebuked himself. Raistlin was disgusted with himself. You decided years ago after that girl made a fool out of you never to fall into such weaknesses! NEVER! he nearly shouted at himself aloud, he was so furious. He knew that, psychologically, he was injured from his first encounter with attraction. It was years ago, and he developed a crush on a young, beautiful town girl. In short, she broke his heart. She was nice to him, flirtatious. Then, the one night he gets himself ready to approach her, to maybe ask to court her, he comes upon her and his brother.busy. The trauma of that still affected him, and he knew it, and he hated himself for letting such weaknesses conquer him. He hated himself for liking that girl-whose-name-he-never-again-spoke, hated himself for letting her memory taint his life, and hated himself for even caring in the first place! "Raistlin!" Alira cried, noticing that his grip on the cup he held was tightening enough to nearly break it. He snapped from his fevered sulk, looking at her and attempting a smile. She's nice. She's pretty. She isn't enamored with your brother. You like her, admit it! You could finally have a friend. She would be someone that would be your friend, yours to talk to. A friend. Friend. So don't ruin it by acting like a.he was thinking, when she interrupted. "Raistlin, are you okay?" she blurted. She laughed then. "Sorry, I asked you that again." "No! No. It's fine.I'm fine." He said, cursing himself for his foolishness. Who ever made friends by acting like a lovesick dolt. No, he wasn't interested in her quite that way. He liked her. Genuinely. He'd never had a friend before; his nickname had always been "Sly", after all, and it wasn't a compliment. Then again, in a way he did have friends. But they didn't trust him, nor did he trust them.so are they really friends? Alira trusted him, he knew for certain. But he didn't trust her. He knew now what he could do. The first step to building a friendship: building trust.
Alira felt to awkward in Raistlin's presence after the experiment. She wasn't tired, but she still stayed still as she lay on her blanket on the ground. She kept her eyes closed, not truly feigning sleep, but not showing any signs of being alert.
Raistlin, however, didn't feel any need to fake sleep. He stayed up, next to the fire, reading and commending spells to his memory. At the same time, thoughts about Alira's so-called "experiment" kept creeping into his mind. It was interesting.that test actually seemed valid. Raistlin thought about this little theory, then shook the thought out of his head and concentrated on his spellbook instead.
A strange thing happened to Raistlin at that time. For the first time in his life, he actually didn't feel like studying. He felt more like doing something else, but he had no idea what he could want more than to study. Magic was his passion, so he swore to the three gods of magic. It surprised him, especially since he had no idea where such an idea had come into his head.an idea to do something else.
He closed his book, trying to figure out what he wanted. Aggravated, he put a hand to his head. Raistlin was used to being able to solve everything with a few moments of thought, and he gave up with a cry of frustration when he couldn't find an answer.
Alira gave a start when she heard him. "What is it? Is there someone there?"
"No, its nothing!" he snapped. Alira, at least, finally understood why he hadn't seemed as bad as he was supposed to be.she simply hadn't known him long enough.
"Right, I'm sure." Alira didn't try to disguise the sarcasm in her voice.
"Silence!" he cried, throwing a stick violently into the fire and gripping his staff tighter.
"Calm down. If you get excited, you'll probably start coughing again." She scolded. When he began coughing, she felt a short stab of triumph, followed by shame for feeling so at his expense.
She put water to boil when he started coughing.
Between bouts of coughing, he managed a sentence, "Not.going.to.ask me.how I'm feeling now.are you?"
She smiled. It was the closest thing to a joke he had said she since met him, though admittedly she hadn't know him long. Yet still, he didn't have a reputation for jokes, so she counted it a victory.
"I gave up on that a while ago." She responded, punctuating her sentence with a short laugh. She poured the water and added the tealeaves for him, handing it to him while he coughed. He sipped, and then emitted a strange sound. It seemed an unpracticed noise, and when Alira realized what it was, she nearly fell over. He was laughing! It wasn't unpleasant, but it was certainly odd.
He coughed again. "I don't.laugh often."
"So I heard." She replied. The silence that followed wasn't so awkward, this time. Alira poured some warm water for herself, adding normal tealeaves. They both sipped, him out of obligation, her out of propriety.
"It seems as though you know more of me than I of you." Raistlin said. He surprised Alira yet again this afternoon. He was actually making an attempt at conversation. She decided the best course of action would be to go along with it, perhaps encourage it.
"Well, what do you want to know?" she asked him warmly.
"I don't know."
Raistlin was not just surprising Alira, he was surprising himself. For once in his life, he was making an effort to get to know someone. But he was being honest when he told her he didn't know what he wanted to know about her. He didn't have much practice in prolonged conversation, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least try it.
"My father was a carpenter, and my mother wove cloth in her spare time for money. I was fairly little when two traveling mages came to our town, one was a red robe and one wore white. I remember a few of the townspeople weren't happy about them being there, but I thought it was interesting, and wonderful. As with most inns and taverns, they were the local place for everyone to spend their spare time with the other people of the town. One evening when I had spare time, I went over to the inn in an attempt to see if there was any news about the strangers. "I was absolutely tickled when I went there and saw them near the fire, talking to each other. I don't remember what they were saying, but I was interested. Apparently, I had slowly inched closer in my attempts to hear them, and I eventually ended up sitting next to them. I barely remember what happened, but they noticed me and started talking to me. The must have guessed that I had a gift for magic, because they asked to meet my parents. I was still a young child, so I saw nothing wrong with bringing perfect strangers to my house. Fortunately for me, they didn't have sinister intentions. I remember more clearly that after they visited I received a lengthy lecture about being careful around strangers. "But, anyway, my parents sent me away while they spoke to the mages, and I'm sure they tried to come with a few excuses to not send me to the nearest tower for teaching, but eventually the mages won them over somehow. I never really knew the details, but I know that a few days after the mages met my parents, my father hitched up our old mare and took me to the tower." Alira reminisced, not really paying attention to what she spoke. Instead, she did more thinking than talking. It was a fond memory, for her. "Your parents didn't want you to study magic?" he asked quietly. "No, they were more frightened at the prospect of me being gone for so long while I was young. After a while, they began to appreciate it, and when I was older they were very supportive." Raistlin thought it was interesting that her parents were supportive. His childhood had been strange, compared to what was considered normal. Then again, when were mages ever considered normal? "You were lucky." He said truthfully. "You're parents weren't supportive?" she said. It stunned her, since he had such talent! Anyone could tell that he was gifted for a mage, and yet his parents didn't support him? His cynical laugh confirmed her suspicions. "My father was never around. My mother was a sort of Seeress, but she was too different for anyone to stomach her for two long. Both died when I was rather young. They didn't really want me to go, they couldn't afford it. But my half-sister, Kitiara, she wanted me to be a mage so she could leave. She didn't want to leave my brother and me defenseless. Caramon had his sword, but I didn't have physical strength to save myself. I was lucky to have a gift for magic, or I would have to rely on Caramon the rest of my life. Once I was firmly into the arcane art, my sister left. Caramon took me to the tower, and brought me back. My mother stayed in the house, as usual. My father, I barely noticed." He said, his voice cold and factual. His eyes as he looked into the flames were mirrors, allowing no emotion to seep through at all. Alira was silent. She didn't know what to say after hearing him. "I'm.sorry. That wasn't the most tactful thing to say." An apology! Raistlin was turning human! "No, no. It's okay. I told you my end, you told me yours. We're even." She managed a smile, if a nervous one. Unfortunately, Raistlin was rather good at reading expressions, and her reaction kind of depressed him. It hit him. It was her! He wanted to talk to her! That's why he didn't want to study! At the same time he made the realization, he rebuked himself. Raistlin was disgusted with himself. You decided years ago after that girl made a fool out of you never to fall into such weaknesses! NEVER! he nearly shouted at himself aloud, he was so furious. He knew that, psychologically, he was injured from his first encounter with attraction. It was years ago, and he developed a crush on a young, beautiful town girl. In short, she broke his heart. She was nice to him, flirtatious. Then, the one night he gets himself ready to approach her, to maybe ask to court her, he comes upon her and his brother.busy. The trauma of that still affected him, and he knew it, and he hated himself for letting such weaknesses conquer him. He hated himself for liking that girl-whose-name-he-never-again-spoke, hated himself for letting her memory taint his life, and hated himself for even caring in the first place! "Raistlin!" Alira cried, noticing that his grip on the cup he held was tightening enough to nearly break it. He snapped from his fevered sulk, looking at her and attempting a smile. She's nice. She's pretty. She isn't enamored with your brother. You like her, admit it! You could finally have a friend. She would be someone that would be your friend, yours to talk to. A friend. Friend. So don't ruin it by acting like a.he was thinking, when she interrupted. "Raistlin, are you okay?" she blurted. She laughed then. "Sorry, I asked you that again." "No! No. It's fine.I'm fine." He said, cursing himself for his foolishness. Who ever made friends by acting like a lovesick dolt. No, he wasn't interested in her quite that way. He liked her. Genuinely. He'd never had a friend before; his nickname had always been "Sly", after all, and it wasn't a compliment. Then again, in a way he did have friends. But they didn't trust him, nor did he trust them.so are they really friends? Alira trusted him, he knew for certain. But he didn't trust her. He knew now what he could do. The first step to building a friendship: building trust.