Author's Note:

This is going to be an interesting chapter! Just telling you now, Kitiara makes an appearance near the end of the chapter. Enjoy! :)

~Sweet-Hearted SilverEars~

Chapter 11 Loves Revealed

Riverwind sat near a peacefully sleeping Sturm in their shared tent. Brightdawn slept beside him, and the Chieftain smiled at the tender, familial scene that they made together, his Mate and youngest daughter. Moonsong was out and about the village playing with her friends. Riverwind was awaiting his oldest child's arrival, as he had sent for him but a few moments ago.

Wanderer came into the tent with a respectful, though slightly wary expression, seating himself beside his father. "You sent for me, Chieftain?" Wanderer inquired politely, causing surprise to flash across Riverwind's face.

He had thought that this was to be a conversation between father and son, but apparently this would be a discussion between a young man and his leader, rather then close family.

Wanderer nearly winced at his father's expression, but he didn't speak to withdraw his statement, needing to stand firm on the terms he had set because of the type of discussion that he thought that this was going to be. He could always soften his stance later, if he were incorrect about the reason he had been summoned here.

"Yes, Wanderer, I did. I wish to discuss your response when I mentioned Swiftraven earlier. Why did you flinch?" Riverwind asked him softly.

"Because, I.." Wanderer began nervously, then firmed his chin. Determination was in his eyes as he looked steadily back at his father. "Swiftraven is my lover, Chieftain. I have promised him that we will wed, and that I would ask you for your blessing over us."

Riverwind was stunned. Of all the scenarios that had run through his mind regarding this meeting, this had not been one of them. "I am not objecting, Wanderer," Riverwind spoke slowly and carefully, not wishing to offend his son, or his warrior. "Not exactly. I just have a few questions. This is, after all, the first that I have heard of your relationship with Swiftraven."

"Of course," Wanderer said without protest where he sat across from Riverwind calmly.

"What will you do about children?" the Chieftain of the Qu`e-Shu asked his son. "About carrying on the line of Chieftains for future generations?"

"We can adopt. Or they can be of Brightdawn or Moonsong's lineage, perhaps."

"And the test to prove that you are worthy of him? What is your answer to that, my young warrior?"

"Swiftraven has told me that he does not wish for that," Wanderer answered him seriously, his eyes level and honest. "He does not wish to be treated like a maiden. Though, essentially anyway, he is my maiden. But I do know that he's a man, and I treat him like a man. He wants it to stay that way."

"I can understand that. You have my blessing."

"Thank you, father," Wanderer said with obvious relief, moving closer to Riverwind when he held his arms out to him.

He pulled his oldest child close into a tender hug before releasing him after a moment to speak softly in inquiry. "Of course, my son. Perhaps we might have a double ceremony? You and Swiftraven, and I and Sturm?"

"I would like that, father, yes."

"Good," Riverwind said with a smile, pleased when his son smiled in return. "We can plan it together?"

"That sounds good, father."

"Great." "When?"

"Why not now?"

So they began the planning.

Raistlin descended the stairs down into the shop, pulling the hood of his red robes up over his face as he walked to the small storage room to waken Dalamar so that they could, eventually, start their day and open the shop up for business. He knelt down beside the young Elven male, reaching out to touch his shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Apprentice, awaken," he said softly, his voice slightly raspy since he hadn't had his tea yet this morning. He had asked Caramon to bring it down to him in a few minutes.

Raistlin watched as Dalamar stirred at his touch, his long, glossy black hair mussed from sleep. He withdrew his golden skinned hand when Dalamar's almond-shaped gray eyes opened slowly, obviously blinking away the warm mist of sleep as he sat up now.

"Shalafi?" Dalamar asked, covering his delicate mouth for a moment as he yawned adorably while looking up at him inquiringly.

Raistlin could not bring himself to chastise him, as he looked so child-like, innocent and cute as he stood up, moving out of the storage room when Raistlin stepped back for him thoughtfully.

"I think, apprentice, that it is time that you know who exactly you have asked to be your Master, now, before we become.. attached to each other."

"If you think it best, Shalafi," Dalamar agreed in his soft, cooing voice.

"I do," Raistlin said firmly, somehow managing to keep his hands from shaking as he reached up to slowly push back the deep red hood of his robes. He bared first his golden skinned face with it's shining, golden-hourglass eyes, then his long white hair to the young Silvanesti male.

Dalamar gasped softly at the sight of his countenance revealed, but he did not recoil from him, even shuffling a little closer with a suddenly riveted expression, his gray eyes widening slightly.

"Raistlin? Raistlin Majere?.." Dalamar inquired breathlessly, his entire face lit up with his obvious emotion. "By the Three Moons, I never expected to meet you, especially not in a small town like this. There are stories told of you in my homeland. Of course they were all lies, twisted and cruel. I knew the truth, though, that you were a good man, treated unfairly by members, and leaders, or our Order. It was because of you, and the stories of you, that I was led to my path. The path of the Magic. It is what I have always wanted, but the stories about you did not accomplish what my people had hoped. At least, not in my case. All that they did was further my desire to become a Mage, and to maybe someday meet you.. That you have taken me on as apprentice, even conditionally, is something that I never even allowed myself to dream of."

Raistlin was shocked, his golden-hourglass eyes startled by the sudden flood of information, speaking softly in reply, "Dalamar, I.."

Raistlin's voice trailed off as he heard Caramon's heavy footsteps on the stairs, even warier now of revealing this secret since Dalamar seemed to see him as some kind of hero, or perhaps even a god.

On the other hand, that was not something that he wanted. If he were to be honest with himself, which he usually was, he wanted Dalamar to see him as a man. As Raistlin. Just Raistlin.

Caramon came down the stairs then and into view, carrying two still-hot teapots and several teacups on the multi-hued wooden tray that he had made for Raistlin. He set it down on the nearby counter carefully before stepping closer to the red robed Mage and slipping his right arm around Raistlin's waist with clear tenderness before looking to Dalamar, curious as to what had transpired between the two while he had been preparing the tea.

"Your tea is ready, Raist," he said quietly. "And I made a second pot for Dalamar."

Dalamar was watching them with obvious puzzlement and curiosity, but they did their best to pretend that it was just another normal day for them.

"Thank you, 'Care," Raistlin replied softly, nuzzling his face against Caramon's right shoulder for a brief moment before looking toward Dalamar as he continued speaking. "Dalamar, this is my brother, Caramon Majere."

"Your brother?.." the Silvanesti Elf inquired in his soft, dove-like voice. "I have heard the tales of him as well. I am not surprised that you have no room, if there are four of you living here."

"No, apprentice," Raistlin spoke in response. "Not four, three. Four, if I include you in the counting."

"Three?.." Dalamar said, trailing off for a moment in confusion. "But if you live here, and your brother, wife and child also live here.."

"I have no wife, Dalamar," Raistlin said softly, moving closer against his brother's side now deliberately. "Caramon is my Mate. Our adopted infant son, Ulin Majere, is upstairs asleep. This is our family."

Dalamar looked shocked at the news, though not repulsed. If anything he looked intrigued, asking Raistlin softly, "So.. he is like your husband, then?.."

"He is my husband," Raistlin said firmly, his golden- hourglass eyes fixed on Dalamar where he stood across from them, obviously watching him closely for his reaction. "We may not have actually been married in a ceremony, but we do wear rings. I love him, and he loves me. Does that bother you, apprentice?"

"No, of course not," Dalamar said in his soft, cooing voice, moving to the counter containing the teapots and cups on the tray. His slim hips were obviously swaying with his movements. Raistlin had never seen him walk in such a way before, but he liked the fact that he seemed now somehow more confident. "I like men, too, Shalafi. If I can be free to express that around you.. I thought that nothing could make me happier then I already was. I knew there was something that drew me here to this shop, and that was obviously you, but perhaps I really do belong here."

Raistlin and Caramon glanced at each other in shocked silence, watching as Dalamar reach out with his delicate alabaster hands to lift up the teapot containing Raistlin's tea. Dalamar seemed to instinctively know which pot contained the right brew, perhaps by the smell rising in heated steam from the spouts. He carefully poured the still hot liquid into one of the cups, setting the small pot back down on the tray before picking up the cup in his hands.

The Elven boy turned then from the counter to face Raistlin and Caramon, walking closer and extending his cupped hands out toward the red robed Mage. He offered him the tea with soft and clearly grateful almond-shaped gray eyes and a happy smile.

Kitiara Uth Matar was bored. The warrior woman's short and curly black hair, stirred by the slight breeze, settled back down around her darkly-beautiful face where she stood on a hill overlooking Solace.

She was here for Tanis. The handsome half-Elf could always be counted upon to give her a good time. Sometimes more then that if he was in the mood. And if she was in the mood.

A crooked smile curved her lips then as she descended the hill leisurely, her left hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword as she strolled into the village. She was heading for the Inn of the Last Home, ignoring the stares that she got from those she passed or that passed her.

Well, she had been gone a long time, Kit thought as she ascended the steps that led up into the branches of the large Valenwood tree. She shoved open the front door that led into the inn's dining and bar area, walking up to the counter and ordering a mug of Otik's ale and a plate of his special spiced potatoes from the ample bosomed red head that stood there.

Kit handed over the necessary coin, surprised when the woman took it, sweeping it off the counter and into her apron with a dirty look in Kitiara's direction. Kit shifted her expression into a scowl, fixing her suddenly cold dark eyes on the woman, snarling softly, deliberately, letting her know that she would not stand for any attitude before turning around to survey the mostly empty bar room.

She smiled her crooked smile when she saw Flint, Tasselholf gesturing and babbling in his usual way where the two unlikely friends sat at a round corner table. She moved to sit in the single chair across from them, facing the door with her back to the wall, propping her booted feet up on the table and slouching back in the chair slightly as the Dwarf and Kender looked at her in surprise.

"Kitiara," Flint greeted her, inclining his head in her direction. "What brings you this way?"

"Oh, well, you know," Kitiara answered nonchalantly, holding out her dagger with a crooked smile to prevent Taz from sneaking closer and trying to get into her pouches. She only put it away when the nosy Kender returned to his seat next to his Dwarven friend with a briefly subdued, mock hurt expression. "I have to come back sometimes to hear all the quaint, local gossip. And to see the family. Tell me, Flint, what has been happening while I was away?"

"You have no idea what you have missed around here, lass…"

Kitiara stood in front of the stone cold lingering ashes of the home that Raistlin and Caramon had built, planning to live in it together. Flint and Tasselholf stood beside her. The ash was stirred by the wind as they watched, more of it vanishing beyond recall.

"What happened, Flint?" she inquired softly, her expression unusually subdued.

"Ah, well.." the Dwarf spoke gruffly in reply to try to cover his emotion. "I am sure that you noticed Tika's foul mood?"

"The ample bosomed barmaid with attitude?"

"Aye, well," Flint explained, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand and looking embarrassed for Tika. "I do not think that she meant any real harm. The lass is just young, sore hurt and pining for Caramon. Though she would not tell you so if asked what was wrong. She wanted badly to marry the lad, but he said nay to her."

"Why?" Kitiara asked, watching Flint look around quickly, obviously making certain that Tasselholf was not within earshot before answering her in a low voice.

"They, Caramon and Raistlin, I mean, have become lovers.."

"About damn time," Kit said in reply, her familiar crooked smile curving her lips as she put her hands on her hips now.

"You do not seem very upset. Or shocked, even," Flint stated, looking up at her with some perplexity.

"Why should I?" she inquired with some amusement at the thought. "Those two have smelled of sexual tension around each other ever since they hit puberty. Maybe even before that, come to think of it. So, why did Raistlin burn the house? I can tell that this is his handiwork, and not Caramon's."

"When they were discovered by Tika, and after she had gone back to Solace, they left that same early morning. They took what they most wanted, or needed, with them, and Raistlin burned the house. Taz, Tanis and I arrived here not long after that, and we traveled with them for a time before splitting up. Caramon and Raistlin continued on to a small town a fair distance from Solace, where Taz and I went to visit them on the return journey from leaving Tanis in Qualinost. Caramon and Raistlin have adopted an abandoned boy babe. And when Taz and I returned to Solace, Sturm had left as well. Likely because of his involvement in Tika finding out about the boy's new relationship."

"Interesting," Kitiara mused, tapping her chin with a finger now. "And Tanis? Did he return here?"

"No, lass, he has not," Flint replied, his expression somewhat wary now since they all knew how volatile the warrior woman could be when she was denied something that she really wanted. "He is still in Qualinost, and I really do not think that he plans to leave anytime soon."

"But why?" Kitiara asked with obvious frustration and confusion. "The Elves have always hated him because of his mixed bloodlines. Even his relations there do."

"Aye, lass, they have at that. And caused the lad a fair amount of grief and pain, too. More then his share. But I believe that he has finally found his place there. With Laurana."

"The fair haired, goodie-two-boots Elven princess?" she inquired with a sudden scowl.

"Aye," he answered, continuing quickly at the look on her face. "But, of course, this is all just speculation on my part, lass. The lad never really told me anything of what had occurred in Qualinost before we parted. But he seemed happy, content. Enough to stay, at least. Perhaps Laurana had naught to do with it at all."

"She did not," another voice joined their conversation then, the Dwarf, human and Kender watching in surprise as Tanis walked through the trees and out into the clearing to stand near them.

Tanis's stance was more confident then it had been, more relaxed in a way that was obvious to all present. As though he had finally found his place in life.

His face was clean, he had shaved his beard away, and his long reddish-brown hair was braided behind his clearly visible slightly pointy ears on either side. One braid extended from the top of his head down the back of his neck in the very center of the shining, glossy brown strands. He also wore garb that was clearly Elven in nature, smiling as he walked nearer to them. His eyes shone with contentment and peace, just as Flint had informed Kitiara.

"Laurana has naught to do with why I stayed in Qualinost, Kit," Tanis said with an affectionate smile in the warrior woman's direction. "I will not lie to you and say that I have not lain with her, out of my respect for you. Nor will I say that it was meaningless, but I can honestly say that it did not mean as much to me as it met to her."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you stay?"

"Because she is expecting my child, Kit. I can not abandon her now. It would not be honorable."

"Honorable!" Kitiara snorted with obvious scorn, placing her hands on her hips as she brought up one of the main sources of their constant arguments. Her disdain for honor before self.

"It is not only that, Kitiara," Tanis said with a barely audible sigh. "If it were, I believe that I would have come back to Solace by now."

"Then what is it that is holding you there?"

"Gilthanas."

"What?.." Kit inquired in confused frustration. "I love him, Kit," Tanis said firmly, though not hurtfully. "He.. makes me happy."

"You really expect me to believe that?" Kitiara said with her hands still on her hips as she looked back at him. "That you suddenly love your cousin who has tormented you all these years about your parentage?"

"Yes. He is different now, Kit. Changed. I can not explain it, but he is kind and loving.."

"Alright, then."

"You do not really seem upset," Tanis said with obvious perplexity.

Kitiara Uth Matar just looked at him before saying, "Tanis, I have never felt threatened by a man in my life. I am not about to start now."