Disclaimer: DL ppl aren't mine sobs dryly Ari is so bugger off
AN: The italics mean it's a flashback. Read on and enjoy!
Ch. 8: Alone and Lonely
The two mages, Raistlin and Tarrant sat around a large desk in Raistlin's laboratory. On the table in front of them was a large decanter of elven wine with several glasses lined up and several stacks of leather-bound tomes, sheets of parchment, and enough spare pens and ink to keep Astinous supplied for a decade. They were researching.
Raistlin murmured, introductorily, "One way in is the portal behind the steel door with runes of gold and silver inlaid. I myself have never been able to open it, for it takes two to open, a mage of great power and a cleric, or one who is truly holy. Obviously, I don't come in contact with holy people on a daily basis and I cannot drag one here-it must be voluntary. So, that idea is out,"
"What of Ariana?' Tarrant asked, looking up from a tome.
Raistlin snorted impolitely, "She may be 'good', but she is far from holy. That high-pitched voice of hers is enough to rouse the dead sometimes."
"Is there any other way in is there?"
"Well, there is the portal located at the bottom of the Blood Red Sea of Istar, but that's fairly impossible to get to without dying. Right now we'd be much better off concentrate on finding some sort of weakness or loophole to get them to remain. The Irda are rumored to have captured Chaos in the Greygem, but that was a long time ago and no one knows how it all happened.
"This is going to be fun," Tarrant muttered imperceptibly.
Six hours later Raistlin was having trouble concentrating. The letters and symbols that lined the pages swam and when they stayed in focus, he couldn't make any sense of them. He leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve the built-up pressure there. As he had foretold, the headache had grimly held on, banging around inside of his brain the moment he thought it had nearly gone. Like he would be so lucky. When he rested his eyes for a moment his thoughts wandered back to Ariana and what he's said to her. Of all the stupid, inconvenient times for her to take him literally and actually leave; never mind the fact that he had meant it literally at the time. It frustrated him to no end! If she had at least stayed long enough for him to talk to her, it wouldn't have been as bad. But her leaving early meant that he'd had no time to talk to her-the whole purpose of her tagging along in the first place. Which, consequentially, meant that the mural could stand the chance of being ruined, which meant that he'd never live it down unless he disowned Caramon-not a bad idea. He chuffed to himself. Right. Then he'd feel guilty about that. Thanks, Ariana.
Tarrant glanced up at him. "You're not going to find a way to save the magic if you keep thinking about her."
Raistlin's eyes shot open. "I was not thinking of her. I am merely tired with all this reading and searching."
"Bullshit," Tarrant snapped back, "We've only been at it for six hours. You can't tell me you've never studied this long."
The golden-eyed mage shifted uncomfortably and went back to flipping through the tomes. He pushed aside thoughts of Ariana and any feelings he had and pulled back on what cool reason he had left.
A tentative knock sounded at the laboratory door.
"Enter, Dalamar," Raistlin called out softly, glancing up as his apprentice entered.
"I apologize for disturbing you, but I thought you might like something to eat. Ariana asked that I made sure you ate." He set a tray of fruits and bread and several kinds of cheese. His sweeping gaze took in all the large spell books littering the table, enviously. Par-Salian be damned, he didn't care about spying, he just wanted to be in this room to learn all that he could.
"Since when did you start taking orders from her? You aren't a maid." Raistlin was secretly touched and openly annoyed.
The elf characteristically arched an eyebrow. "Really. You've had me fooled at times, Shalifi." He withdrew with a bow before Raistlin could retort.
"Damn CDs," Ariana muttered, standing in front of the mural, fiddling with her CD player. She was finding out how severely limited her collection was; all she seemed to be listening to was some form of relationship-based songs. Even her Gothic CDs were gloomily singing about someone. At least Blink-182 and Cranberries were angry about it-that sort of helped. She sighed forcefully and chose Nickleback; she had to get back to painting this thing, not just standing around being weepy over some dumb lyrics.
She was working on the under painting of the mural. A burnt sienna sort of color would do, she figured, giving the overall picture a warm tinge and unifying the colors she would paint over most of it. As she worked, she thought back to her conversation with Dalamar...
"I'm sorry about you and Raistlin, not working out," Ari murmured to the dark elf, after she had dried her tears and chased up the stairs after him. They were now on the landing outside of his chambers.
"No, you aren't," he retorted, a thin smile on his lips. "I could tell we made you uncomfortable."
"Not in the sense that you were two men together, because that doesn't bother me. I've many friends like that. I was bothered because I like him a lot. I love him. I felt betrayed and jealous seeing you two together. It was like that nullified all that he had said and done for me."
"What has he done for you?" Dalamar sneered.
"He brought me back to life," she whispered, tearing up again. "And now he wishes he hadn't."
"How did you die?" he asked, his interest pricked.
"Tarrant drained me and that made me so very weak, I just couldn't hold on to life. I felt like I was floating in a whirl of color and chaos, and he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of it." Ari shivered at the memory. "Tell me about you. Why did you start with him?"
Dalamar gave a sigh, "It's complicated; it was more of a learning experience that a try at a relationship. I thought maybe if I got close to him I could learn more than I was as just an apprentice."
Ariana was appalled at his statement. "You did that for learning's sake? Did you two... you know... sleep together?"
The dark elf shuddered, "Takhesis, no! Kissing and hugging was more than enough!"
"Was it worth it?"
A short laugh escaped Dalamar's lips, "No. I think he was more distrustful of me when I was close to him than when I was his apprentice."
"Mmm... That's too bad."
There was a silence between them for a few moments.
"Do you think you could take me back to the Inn of the Last Home?" Ari asked abruptly. "I really can't stay here any longer-he hates me."
Dalamar nodded. "I've got a transporting ring that you can use." He dug briefly in one of his many pockets and pulled out a small ordinary-looking ring. "Not much to look at, but it's powerful. Send it back with Raistlin when he comes, which I know he will." He extended it to her with one thin pale hand.
She took it and put it on her finger, then reached out and gave him a hug. That was a mistake, she shortly found out. After a whirl of confusion in which she buried herself into his robes, finding that he didn't smell unlike his master, the spell components playing a large role in the matter, she found herself and the dark elf standing outside the city of Vallenwood trees.
"Did I mention it works as soon as you put it on?" Dalamar snapped, prying the ring off her small finger and jamming it onto his own.
"Sorry," she called out to his disappearing form. "I figured I had to say something in order for it to work." And she was alone, in the deepening night.
He was really a nice fellow, she reflected, taking her back here at her request. She had gotten images off of him if she wanted to analyze him later on.
Right now all that she wanted was to get this thing done with and get back home. Caramon and Tika were so friendly-they made her feel welcome. Raistlin, on the other hand, put her off balance. He had been the only reason she would have even thought of staying any longer after the mural was done and now he was the sole reason she didn't want to stay any longer than she had to. But now she was thinking of him and that was the last thing she wanted. Crossly she pushed him from her thoughts and continued.
No one knew she was home yet and that was how she wanted it. Let them ask the questions later when she was in a steadier frame of mind and could deal with it. Her things were still on the floor next to the table that her paints and brushes were on, in the duffle bag. She hadn't had time to put things away yet.
She tried blocking everything that was a distraction, using the music to channel her concentration to the paint at hand. Her whole body went into the brushstrokes, furiously working, scrubbing at the wall. She was at it for what seemed like a few minutes, but when she stepped back she had completed the under painting and it was beginning to become daylight. Ari cleaned her brushes, set up a barricade of chairs, and left with her things for her room.
She hadn't gone more than a couple paces when she ran into Tasselhoff.
"Oh, hello! Caramon said that you wouldn't be back for a few more days, but here you are! He said that you were with Raistlin in his tower. Is it a really neat place? I've never been there, but I've heard lots about it-I can't believe he let you go with him. Only his apprentice is there now, and he is fairly new. A dark elf isn't he? Where are you going? Are you all right because you've got a really funny expression on your face. It looks like you've got something in your eye. I once had something in my eye and it wouldn't go away and my eye got all swollen and red and Flint, do you remember us talking about Flint, well, he said that I looked like a bee had made a hive right in my very eye. Can you imagine-oh!" His prattling was cut short when he saw that she had burst into tears. He took her hand in his, and led her back into the Inn. "What's the matter?"
She sniffled a little, taking the proffered handkerchief from him and wiping her eyes. "Everything. So, I went back with him because I wanted him to tell me more about himself so I could understand him. Well, we never got a chance to talk because this other strange mage appeared and drained me so I died-"
"You died!! What was it like? Did you see Flint? I've never died before," Tas sighed jealously.
"I wasn't gone long. Everything was chaotic and I got the feeling of a multitude of people around me. I don't think it was a final place, but just sort of an in-between, haven't-gotten-there-yet place. He pulled me out and saved me. Then I saw him and Dal together and got jealous. We had this fight and he said that he wished he had never brought me back. That's why I left. I couldn't face him in the morning, knowing that he hated me." She leaned her head on her folded arms that were on a table. "I really do love him... I just don't understand why he won't let me. And I'm afraid of being used, like he used Dalamar."
"I don't think I've ever been in love," Tas commented.
"It's simultaneously the best and the worst feeling in the world."
"Doesn't you stomach get queasy? I was tossed really high up in the air once and I felt like that. Once I landed, I puked up my lunch all over Caramon. He didn't think it was fun, even though I told him it was and asked him to toss me up again."
Ari managed a choked laugh at this.
Raistlin slammed the book he was reading shut and stood to his feet so violently the chair he had been sitting on was knocked back. Tarrant didn't start, but turned his silver eyes up from his book to regard the other mage.
"There is nothing to be found," Raistlin stated coldly, moving away from the table. "The only way is to find a cleric and open the portal with them. Goddess knows how I am to do that." He started stacking the tomes up to return them to their respective shelves. Tarrant reluctantly pushed the book he'd been reading away, adding it to the tower of books that were quickly forming. The thin mage took the first few and shelved them on the proper shelves in the laboratory. Then he grabbed the rest of them and began to leave.
A sudden coughing spell nearly leveled him; he had to lean against the wall to steady himself. The tomes slipped from his spasming fingers and cascaded in a night blue and black waterfall. The silver-eyed mage rose silently, going to collect the precious books that had tumbled down.
When Raistlin had ceased his coughing, he stood as tall as he could. "I don't need your help," he wheezed, grasping for the books back.
"I wasn't helping you; I was saving the books," Tarrant snapped, gently pushing the frail mage away and striding through the door and onto the landing. He made his way up the stairs as if he owned the tower, heading for Raistlin's study.
Raistlin fumed silently at the other mage's back, considering if it would be worth the destruction of the spell books to rid him of that foully arrogant man, then decided against it. The spell books were very precious. His ever-working mind went to the problem of how to get a cleric. Where exactly did one meet a cleric? They certainly didn't spend their time at taverns or inns; and he shuddered at the thought of going to a temple. He wasn't even sure if he was able to enter a temple to the gods of good. Surely they would keep someone like him away. Then, the question was, how to approach a cleric outside of their temples. Did they leave to go home at night, or did they stay there, housed somewhere inside? There was also the problem of how to judge a truly holy cleric from the ones who were not in it heart and soul. He would have to find someone he had heard of, and by his or her status, risk the chance that they would know his name and shirk from him. What would draw them from their temple and into his 'web' so to speak?
He glared at the still-remaining chalk drawing of what he presumed was himself next to his door, swiping it away with his sleeve. Raistlin pushed past Tarrant, once they were both inside, and grabbed the books from his grasp. He turned his back on the tall mage to re-shelve them.
"If you're in such a foul mood," Tarrant told him, "why don't you just go and see her and talk things over? It'll make you able to concentrate better afterwards."
Raistlin jammed the books in their place with more force than entirely necessary. "I don't," slam "want," slam "to talk," slam "to," slam "her!" slam, slam. "We have nothing to discuss."
The silver mage shook his head, "I need to feed; I'll be back in a few days. I hope you can get yourself together by then because right now you are alone and lonely without her. Something needs to change." With that, he swept from the room, vanishing before he reached the door.