Chapter 17:
"Alira!" Caramon called. "Meat! Berries!"
She rose from where she sat, near Raistlin and the fire, to see what Caramon had found. He was able to eat an amazing amount of food, and Alira had so far proven to be one of his favorite cooks. Alira liked the attention she got from him, when he ate her cooking. Raistlin, however, would eat a little bit, silently, and pretend neither of them existed while he retreated to his books to study.
He was easy to find, with his armor clanking and grating, kneeling on the ground near a trap. A plump rabbit was caught, and he didn't waste time in slitting its throat while it kicked and bucked. Alira smiled at Caramon's dimly pleased grin.
"I thought you said there were berries." She said. After traveling with him for a few days, she had slowly grown more and more social with the bigger of the two brothers, and even Mischief had come to like him. Alira knelt beside him, her lithe frame dwarfed by his largeness. In her robes, she felt secure as she examined the prize he clutched in his huge hands. Nodding her approval with pursed lips, she rose.
"The berries are over there.see that big bush? That's it. Do you have any of that nice plant you used last time with the rabbit? Could we have a stew?" he asked excitedly, a boyish light infusing his features. Alira chuckled.
"I think we've got enough left for a stew.those vegetables we got earlier will be perfect." she said, watching him get up, his broad shoulders a mass of corded and rippling muscle.
So unlike Raistlin.
The two of them walked side by side, with Mischief in Alira's belt- pouch, as usual. The rabbit dangled limply from Caramon's hand, dripping blood. Alira clucked when she realized he hadn't thought to clean it before getting up. Though every stride of his counted for two of hers, Alira made it to the camp without going breathless. She made him clean the rabbit once they made it back. In the meantime, she tried to ignore Raistlin's gaze on her as she worked at getting everything ready to start cooking.
Before long, she had the stew cooking, enough food for seven.therefore enough to fill Caramon's belly as well as hers and Raistlin's. She hacked at a coarse loaf of bread with a dagger, trying to block out the kinds of thoughts that always brought stress on her. Alira didn't like dwelling on the fact that she was a trained assassin, the fact that she still wasn't too sure about the draconian/Raistlin thing, the fact that she now didn't have any idea about what her life was about anymore. The fact that Caramon seemed to have an unsettling interest in her. It was palpable, and she was no fool. Raistlin knew it, she could tell.
As they ate, Caramon prattled on about something that Alira paid absolutely no attention to. She watched Raistlin closely. If she could get used to a draconian/Raistlin, surely there was a chance that this Raistlin could lighten up. Or, as the deep part of her snickered often, he could truly have a heart of darkness. How he got red instead of black robes often puzzled her, but she refused to well on that thought as well.
"Caramon. Stop." Raistlin ordered harshly.
"Who are you to order him around so?" Alira snapped irritably. Caramon blushed. Raistlin seemed surprised, the show of emotion surprising Alira. He said nothing more, but neither did Caramon.
After that, things got surprisingly easy. The past tension was gone, making it a simple thing to laugh. But Alira still had this strange.thing. Like a block. It was inexplicable. She just couldn't understand it.
Then once, Caramon was out trying to find some firewood. Alira had a feeling he wouldn't find any, but didn't bother to try to stop him, since he seemed to want to go. So, she was left to find busy-work around the camp with no one but Raistlin and Mischief to keep her company.
"What happened?" someone whispered from behind her. She recognized Raistlin's voice.
"What?" she said, confused by the "what" he was talking about.
"Something hurt you." He said matter-of-factly. Painful memories flooded her senses.
"Wise of you," she said casually, "to say something rather than someone."
"That doesn't answer the question." He said, coughing wildly afterward.
"It was nothing."
"It was something if it attracted Mishakal's attention. What happened?" he asked more sternly. Alira knew now what was going on.
"No." she said. Mischief, who was currently walking freely around rather than stuck in the pouch, rushed to her ankles, and protectively snarled at Raistlin.
"You don't have to talk about it. But if you don't, it will never go away." He said.
"You don't even know what it is! You aren't even human enough to understand!" she snarled, Mischief responding to her anger in kind. Her words seemed to have no affect on him.
"Then let's experiment." He said. He sat back casually.
"Why do you care!" she hollered.
"I don't. But I have reason to believe that whatever it is, it involves me. And because of your problems, I am losing sleep."
"You selfish, worthless, un-feeling." she snarled. Eventually her venting involved insulting curses, and she proved that she had quite the vocabulary when it came to insults. After a few minutes of this verbal abuse, she finally stopped, realizing that Raistlin's expression hadn't changed at all. She had the dignity not to end her ranting feebly.
Raistlin was truly bothering her now. He set her all on edge. She had no idea what to expect from him. It dawned on her that she was afraid of him, and she hated him for that as well as everything else.
By now, Alira was insane.in a way. She blamed all of her pain on Raistlin, for some psychological reason that was not yet explainable using words. She knew, on a subconscious level, that she was being ridiculous. But she could do nothing about it but try and comprehend something beyond her.
"Caramon will be back any minute now. I suggest you get it over with quickly, and sooner, rather than later." He said, coolly as ever, watching her as though he expected her to be a weakling and spill all.
She did.
"Alira!" Caramon called. "Meat! Berries!"
She rose from where she sat, near Raistlin and the fire, to see what Caramon had found. He was able to eat an amazing amount of food, and Alira had so far proven to be one of his favorite cooks. Alira liked the attention she got from him, when he ate her cooking. Raistlin, however, would eat a little bit, silently, and pretend neither of them existed while he retreated to his books to study.
He was easy to find, with his armor clanking and grating, kneeling on the ground near a trap. A plump rabbit was caught, and he didn't waste time in slitting its throat while it kicked and bucked. Alira smiled at Caramon's dimly pleased grin.
"I thought you said there were berries." She said. After traveling with him for a few days, she had slowly grown more and more social with the bigger of the two brothers, and even Mischief had come to like him. Alira knelt beside him, her lithe frame dwarfed by his largeness. In her robes, she felt secure as she examined the prize he clutched in his huge hands. Nodding her approval with pursed lips, she rose.
"The berries are over there.see that big bush? That's it. Do you have any of that nice plant you used last time with the rabbit? Could we have a stew?" he asked excitedly, a boyish light infusing his features. Alira chuckled.
"I think we've got enough left for a stew.those vegetables we got earlier will be perfect." she said, watching him get up, his broad shoulders a mass of corded and rippling muscle.
So unlike Raistlin.
The two of them walked side by side, with Mischief in Alira's belt- pouch, as usual. The rabbit dangled limply from Caramon's hand, dripping blood. Alira clucked when she realized he hadn't thought to clean it before getting up. Though every stride of his counted for two of hers, Alira made it to the camp without going breathless. She made him clean the rabbit once they made it back. In the meantime, she tried to ignore Raistlin's gaze on her as she worked at getting everything ready to start cooking.
Before long, she had the stew cooking, enough food for seven.therefore enough to fill Caramon's belly as well as hers and Raistlin's. She hacked at a coarse loaf of bread with a dagger, trying to block out the kinds of thoughts that always brought stress on her. Alira didn't like dwelling on the fact that she was a trained assassin, the fact that she still wasn't too sure about the draconian/Raistlin thing, the fact that she now didn't have any idea about what her life was about anymore. The fact that Caramon seemed to have an unsettling interest in her. It was palpable, and she was no fool. Raistlin knew it, she could tell.
As they ate, Caramon prattled on about something that Alira paid absolutely no attention to. She watched Raistlin closely. If she could get used to a draconian/Raistlin, surely there was a chance that this Raistlin could lighten up. Or, as the deep part of her snickered often, he could truly have a heart of darkness. How he got red instead of black robes often puzzled her, but she refused to well on that thought as well.
"Caramon. Stop." Raistlin ordered harshly.
"Who are you to order him around so?" Alira snapped irritably. Caramon blushed. Raistlin seemed surprised, the show of emotion surprising Alira. He said nothing more, but neither did Caramon.
After that, things got surprisingly easy. The past tension was gone, making it a simple thing to laugh. But Alira still had this strange.thing. Like a block. It was inexplicable. She just couldn't understand it.
Then once, Caramon was out trying to find some firewood. Alira had a feeling he wouldn't find any, but didn't bother to try to stop him, since he seemed to want to go. So, she was left to find busy-work around the camp with no one but Raistlin and Mischief to keep her company.
"What happened?" someone whispered from behind her. She recognized Raistlin's voice.
"What?" she said, confused by the "what" he was talking about.
"Something hurt you." He said matter-of-factly. Painful memories flooded her senses.
"Wise of you," she said casually, "to say something rather than someone."
"That doesn't answer the question." He said, coughing wildly afterward.
"It was nothing."
"It was something if it attracted Mishakal's attention. What happened?" he asked more sternly. Alira knew now what was going on.
"No." she said. Mischief, who was currently walking freely around rather than stuck in the pouch, rushed to her ankles, and protectively snarled at Raistlin.
"You don't have to talk about it. But if you don't, it will never go away." He said.
"You don't even know what it is! You aren't even human enough to understand!" she snarled, Mischief responding to her anger in kind. Her words seemed to have no affect on him.
"Then let's experiment." He said. He sat back casually.
"Why do you care!" she hollered.
"I don't. But I have reason to believe that whatever it is, it involves me. And because of your problems, I am losing sleep."
"You selfish, worthless, un-feeling." she snarled. Eventually her venting involved insulting curses, and she proved that she had quite the vocabulary when it came to insults. After a few minutes of this verbal abuse, she finally stopped, realizing that Raistlin's expression hadn't changed at all. She had the dignity not to end her ranting feebly.
Raistlin was truly bothering her now. He set her all on edge. She had no idea what to expect from him. It dawned on her that she was afraid of him, and she hated him for that as well as everything else.
By now, Alira was insane.in a way. She blamed all of her pain on Raistlin, for some psychological reason that was not yet explainable using words. She knew, on a subconscious level, that she was being ridiculous. But she could do nothing about it but try and comprehend something beyond her.
"Caramon will be back any minute now. I suggest you get it over with quickly, and sooner, rather than later." He said, coolly as ever, watching her as though he expected her to be a weakling and spill all.
She did.