Author's Note:

This chapter is Dedicated to blackdragonsghost, the fanfiction author of the Raistlin/Dalamar story The Call Of Arcane Lore.

It's very good, and if you have time and enjoy the pairing, then you should definitely check it out! :)

~Sweet-Hearted SilverEars~

Chapter 9 The Mysterious Black-Robed Mage

Raistlin watched the tall and slender black-robed Mage suspiciously from beneath the hood of his red robes where he stood behind the counter as the man walked around his shop.

It wasn't that he was a black-robe that made Raistlin suspicious of him. More the fact that he'd been in his shop every day for the past seven days. He always bought something before he left, but he never spoke a word, just watched Raistlin from beneath his hood as well. It made Raistlin uncomfortable, his mostly dormant protective instincts rising quickly when he thought of Caramon and Ulin upstairs.

Perhaps he should ward the upper levels against any but himself and his family.

The man stepped up to the counter then, setting down today's purchases. His walk was unusually gracefully as he did so. Raistlin added it up fast in his mind, giving him the total amount. He handed it over without comment as usual. Raistlin just wanted to get the man out of the shop as soon as possible.

He stilled then as the other Mage spoke, two words only, his voice soft and lilting, like the coo of a dove. "Thank you."

Then he picked up his purchases and walked out the door. Raistlin stood frozen behind the counter, shocked as he felt his lower belly tighten, his body burning suddenly with the hunger of lust.

That thought shocked him out of his frozen state, and he left the space behind the counter quickly, moving to the door to the shop. His golden skinned hands were shaking noticeably as he locked it and changed the open sign to closed. He was shuddering hard as his aching cock throbbed between his legs, his entire body trembling as he leaned his head against the doorframe and closed his golden-hourglass eyes.

Gods of Krynn, this was bad. He couldn't go to Caramon like this, hard and aching for another. Even though it had to have been a spell. Especially if it was a spell. He knew exactly how protective his brother was, and he didn't yet wish harm on the other Mage.

There were bound to be questions from his twin and lover, and he couldn't face them with lust-clouded senses. He would just have to take care of it himself, he decided reluctantly. Raistlin moved to sit in the small rocking chair behind the counter that Caramon had built for him so that he would have a place to sit and rest between customers.

He sat down, shaking still and feeling incredibly guilty at what he was about to do as he pulled his long red robes up to bunch around his thighs. He slipped his right hand beneath them and into his undergarments, gasping softly at how sensitive his hard length was as he touched it lightly. His breathing was abruptly harsh, rasping audibly as he wrapped his hand around his cock, trembling harder as he started to stroke firmly now.

A soft cry escaped Raistlin's parted lips and he felt as though he were on fire as he tilted his head back to rest it against the soft, deep red backing on the chair. He was panting rapidly as he touched himself, his eyes closing now, helpless to prevent himself from remembering the other Mage's beautiful voice as he struggled to find release. He was clearly torn by guilt and anger at his reaction to the other man speaking for the first time since he'd started to frequent the shop…

Caramon was just putting Ulin to bed when he heard Raistlin cry out down in the shop. The sound sent him immediately running down the stairs quickly, panicked for his safety. The sight that met his eyes shocked him into immobility.

His brother was sitting in the chair, his legs spread wide since his long red robes were pulled up around his thighs. His eyes were closed as he stroked himself with his right hand, three of his obviously oil-slick fingers buried deep inside his body. A low moan escaped him as his head thrashed back and forth on the soft, deep red back of the chair, clearly struggling to reach his much-needed release.

"Raistlin.." Caramon breathed softly, ensnared by the lustful and hungry expression on his twin's beautiful face. His low voice caused Raistlin's golden-hourglass eyes to snap open instantly, the sheer force of the desire in their depths causing Caramon to draw in a sharp breath in unconscious response.

"Caramon.." Raistlin hissed pleadingly, his slender body obviously on fire with his need. "Help me!"

Caramon shuddered in response to his plea, nodding as he moved closer now. Raistlin let go of his own cock with obvious reluctance, withdrawing his three fingers from himself as Caramon lifted him up into his strong arms. He sat down in the chair himself, though it was somewhat of a tight fit for him.

Then he lowered Raistlin down onto his lap, reaching to unbutton his pants, freeing himself. He shuddered again, harder this time as the Mage lifted himself up, reaching down between their bodies with a slender golden hand to position Caramon's cock at the entrance to his body. Raistlin arched his back slightly as he sank back, going down onto Caramon's hard length with a low moan. He was trembling visibly, but clearly relishing the slight burn as he took the warrior deep inside himself.

Caramon groaned helplessly, burying his large hands in Raistlin's long white tresses when his red hood fell back with his movements as he moved his hips. He worked himself further down onto his large brother's cock, his body opening for him without much hesitation at all.

"Fuck, Caramon!" Raistlin growled, shaking as he begged him unashamedly. "Harder, Care, I need it harder! Now!"

Caramon nodded, lifting his brother with him as he stood up now. His hard cock was still buried inside Raistlin as he set him down on his back on the chair, starting to move into him hard and fast as his large hands wrapped around the strong wooden arms of the chair. Raistlin arched his back again, crying out with every thrust of his brother's hips.

The fingers of his hands dug into Caramon's forearms like sharp dragon's claws, actually drawing blood with the force of the Mage's pleasure as a sheen of sweat rose quickly on his golden skin. At first Raistlin's cries were for 'more' and 'harder', most of them containing his brother's name as well. But the cries grew incoherent, Raistlin screaming helplessly as the chair rocked back, then forward with every beloved thrust and hated withdraw.

Caramon groaned loudly as he climaxed suddenly, filling his twin's shaking body with his burning seed. This caused Raistlin to come as well, his slender body visibly quivering with aftershocks as he slumped in the chair limply. He was panting harshly as his golden hands went to touch Caramon's sweat soaked back now, his arms surrounding him as his fingers slipped beneath the bottom of his shirt to touch him, caressing his lover's heated skin tenderly.

"I love you, Caramon.." Raistlin whispered as Caramon cleaned them both up after withdrawing from him reluctantly. He lifted Raistlin up into his arms and carefully climbed the stairs to the small kitchen with intentions to make his brother his tea.

"I love you, too, Raistlin.."

Sturm was sitting in his and Riverwind's tent, dressed in plain tan leather pants and nothing else. He was awaiting his Chieftain's return as he ate from the large platter of food before him.

Beside him sat Moonsong, who was eating as well. The small three-year-old smiled up at him every so often with shining, happy blue eyes as she played with her shoulder length gold hair.

Cradled in his free arm securely was the one-year-old Brightdawn, her tiny face peaceful as she slept. Sturm smiled down at her, admiring the rich golden tones of the soft baby fluff that matched her older sister's, and would one day be her own hair.

Then he looked up, startled, when the tent flap was flung back. A male youth of perhaps fourteen or fifteen stormed into the tent quickly. His long, glossy black hair was very much like Riverwind's, swaying about his shoulders with his jerky, clearly angry movements.

He stopped in his tracks at seeing Sturm, his dark eyes widening as they went to where Brightdawn was cradled in Sturm's arms sleeping, and where Moonsong sat contentedly beside him as she ate her supper.

"Who are you?" the boy asked him rudely.

"My name is Sturm Brightblade," he answered him carefully. "You must be Wanderer. I am a friend of your father's."

"He told me about you," Wanderer said with a sharp nod in response. "Stories of your travels and battles together. Why are you with my sisters?"

Sturm wasn't sure how to answer that without saying something that he knew would probably upset the boy greatly.

"Sturm is daddy's husband," Moonsong said to her older brother with a soft giggle before popping a small piece of deer meat into her little mouth. It was clear she did not really understand that what she was saying was all too offensive to some.

Wanderer turned from watching her at that, rounding on Sturm as his dark eyes blazed with anger, practically radiating fury now. "Is this true?"

Sturm looked back at him steadily, figuring that the truth was the best option now that the damage was done. "We are not married yet. But I expect him to ask me any day now, yes. Now that he knows the girls and I get along well, I believe him to be ready for a more permanent commitment then sharing a blanket."

"Why did he not say anything to me? I am his son!" he yelled, waking Brightdawn now with his volume, causing her to begin to cry loudly. "Mother has only been gone a year! He breaks tradition by taking a lover so quickly after!"

Sturm stood up then, trying to soothe a screaming Brightdawn as he rocked her against his shoulder and walked around the tent. He made soft hushing noises until she stopped, calm again for the moment, though still awake, her tiny blue eyes glistening even though she no longer cried.

"I know nothing about your traditions," Sturm said apologetically as he looked at the boy with feigned calmness.

"Of course not!" Wanderer hissed harshly. "You are an outsider! You don't belong here!"

Sturm visibly flinched at his cruelty, but he merely said, "I apologize if I have offended you with my ignorance, but I suggest that you take your grievances up with your father. He is out hunting to provide food for the tribe."

Wanderer ignored his chastising tone, nodding his head briefly, sharply, as he turned to leave the tent. "I shall do so, now."

Sturm sighed as he watched him storm out again, praying to the Gods of Good that the boy calmed before he hurt himself, or someone else, with his anger.

Tanis smiled where he stood next to Gilthanas and Laurana. Gil's arm was wrapped around Tanis's waist, while Tanis's arm was draped around Laurana's shoulder tenderly.

Her face was peaceful, clearly happy where she rested against his side. Her belly was starting to grow now, a slight swell showing where their child lay within her.

To Raistlin's irritation, the black-robed Mage was back the next day as well, bright and early, right after he opened the shop.

The man selected his purchases, and then approached the counter with them, setting them down so that Raistlin could add up the total for him in silence.

"Is something wrong?" the other Mage spoke in his soft, cooing voice. He nearly caused Raistlin to drop the item that he held, setting it down carefully despite his shaking golden hands. "You seem.. upset."

"I prefer not to engage in personal conversation, or idle chit-chat with my customers," Raistlin answered reluctantly in his soft and raspy voice.

"I know. I have seen how you run this place. But it's more then that. Do you perhaps hate me because I am a black-robe and you a red?"

"No, of course not," Raistlin said, obviously shocked that he could think so of him.

"Then what is it? I wish to fix it, whatever it is, if I can."

"Why? You do not even know me."

"But I want to."

"Is that why you continue to come to my shop every day?"

"Yes."

"You certainly are a brazen one, are you not? What is it that you want from me?"

"You."

"Excuse me?" Raistlin nearly growled, his golden-hourglass eyes burning now beneath his red hood. "I will have you know that I am happily married. Very happily."

"What? I.. I did not mean it like that.. I meant that I wish for you to be my Shalafi."

Raistlin's eyes narrowed instantly at his words, requesting of him sharply, "Lower your hood."

The black-robed Mage froze for a heartbeat, but then he lifted his alabaster arms obediently. His fingers were noticeably shaking as he pushed back his hood to reveal shoulder length glossy black hair, almond-shaped gray eyes, and sharply pointed ears.

"A Silvanesti Dark Elf," Raistlin stated in his rasping voice. "You are a long way from home, with good reason. I have not the necessary energy to take on an apprentice, were I even inclined to do such. I am married with a young child, and I have this shop to run if we are to continue to have a roof over our heads. I am sorry, but I cannot teach you, young one."

"I will not be a bother," the Elven man begged him now. "I can help you in the shop. Please. I have nowhere else to go, and I am nearly out of coin to support myself."

"Very well," Raistlin agreed, his expression musing. "But a trial run only. And I do not want to see you upstairs, or you are gone. You shall sleep down here, in the shop. Or the back storeroom, wherever you feel more comfortable. There is no room upstairs. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Shalafi. I understand."

"Good. Now. What shall I call you?"

"Dalamar. Dalamar Argent."

Riverwind stood in the brush for camouflage, his bow drawn with the nock of the arrow pulled back to his cheek, lining it up with the doe that stepped into view quickly. He paused when he noticed the pair of tiny fawns following in her wake through the long grass with soft bleating noises. He waited patiently, relieved when a large buck came along nearly on her heels. He lined his shot up quickly with the buck's heart, releasing the arrow and watching it hit his target.

The buck went down instantly, and Riverwind was relieved that the creature wouldn't have to suffer. He was surprised when the female and her fawns didn't bolt, the doe looking directly at him with her dark, soulful eyes as he heard a voice in his mind speaking to him softly. *Your son approaches, Riverwind, Chieftain of the Qu`e-Shu. He is very angry.*

Then she unfroze, almost as though coming out of a trance, bounding away from the body of the fallen buck with her offspring following after her. Riverwind blinked, then calmly walked over to the large deer. He drew his dagger from his belt and slit it down the belly, cleaning the blade of the bright red blood in the long grass and sliding it back into his sheath.

He turned partially where he crouched beside the buck to look behind himself when he heard the sound of a horse approaching. He watched as Wanderer came into view on his large black stallion. His young son swung his left leg over the horse's back quickly, dismounting and storming over to him with clenched fists and defiant eyes.

"Wanderer," Riverwind greeted him with a nod. "You are upset. Compose yourself before speaking so that you say nothing that you will regret later. Gut the deer."

Wanderer obviously did not wish to listen, but he was not fool enough to defy his father and Chieftain. So he knelt beside the deer and starting to remove the stomach, lungs and intestines.

Riverwind nodded to him, moving around the deer to cut off the head at the base of the skull to take off some extra weight and lighten the horse's burden, doing so also so that no good meat was lost. He then lifted the buck onto Wanderer's horse and they began the walk back to the village together. Wanderer carried the severed head, as they would use the large antlers of the beast for weapon making, most likely arrowheads.

Raistlin set up a small bed for Dalamar, laying a few spare blankets and a pillow out on the wood floor of the small back storeroom until something more permanent could be made if such became necessary. He knew that it was likely to get cold in the lower level beneath the living quarters at night as heat had a tendency to rise.

"You may sleep here, Dalamar Argent. If you need something during the night, call for me from the bottom of the stairs. But not too loudly. I will hear you."

"Yes, Shalafi," Dalamar replied, bowing respectfully with his hands pressed together toward Raistlin. "Thank you."

"I will leave you to your rest, then," Raistlin said with a nod, turning and making his way up the stairs.

He pushed the hood of his robes back as soon as he was out of sight of the shop below, moving to the bedroom to remove his robes and pouches to join Caramon in their bed. He curled close against his twin's side for warmth and companionship when his brother opened his arms to him with a smile. "Caramon, we must speak in the morning on something important."

"Yes, Raist."