b - l - a - d - e' - s - - e - d - g - e
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Sikeen grabbed the vial and returned it to her pocket before they left, not wanting to forget it. Dalamar led her into a stairwell she had noticed before but never paid attention to, as it was always shrouded in shadow. It was just beyond the entrance to Raistlin's chambers, and as he guided her now into the darkness, he prayed his Shalafi hadn't overheard them. As quietly as they could, they made their way up the ink-black steps. It was dark enough that even Sikeen, who possessed superior night vision, couldn't see further than one step beyond where she stood, and Dalamar slid his hand around her waist just in case she tripped. It felt like ages before they reached the top of the stairs, which let out into a circular room, much like the one Sikeen had first seen in the Tower.
"Where are we?"
"Shalafi doesn't have the highest suite in the tower," said Dalamar quietly, pacing over to a pair of wide, glass doors across the clearing. "This is the top tier. He put a hand on one of the doorknobs and looked over his shoulder, smirking at her. "Come here." She did as she was told, fascinated. This place was bigger than any other room in the Tower, and had a strange glow to it, as if moonlight was reflecting off the tiles despite the closed curtains. Dalamar grabbed her hand again, but differently this time, with his fingers intertwined in hers. She was about to say something when he pulled the door open, revealing a glistening, ebony balcony.
"Gods," she breathed, suddenly forgetting her protest and gripping his hand tighter. She hadn't been outside in weeks. He took a step forward, satisfied with himself, and led her to the sleek wrought-iron railing. The Grove stretched out before them for what seemed like a mile, and there was a peculiar stillness in the night air that almost felt like heaviness. Had it rained? Breathless, she looked out at Palanthas in all its moonlit glory. Any contact with the outside would have been glorious to her, but this was simply breathtaking. She felt like a goddess, standing so high above everything else. In fact, she couldn't remember ever being so high above the rest of the world before.
Dalamar couldn't decide if he wanted to enjoy the view or watch her reaction. Every time she blinked and opened her eyes she looked as if she were taking it all in again and again, amazed that there was even a world still out there. The moonlight shone off her pale skin in a truly pearlescent way, reminding him of the tiles inside. Tentatively, he stepped behind her and pulled her hair from her shoulders, letting it rest on her back before running his hands through it once more. It was a moment before she reacted. "What are you doing?" she asked, wide-eyed. His fingers were making her scalp tingle again. Once again, he eyed the flawless skin of her bare shoulders contrasting with the deep green of his tunic.
"I think my clothes really suit you," he said, unable to resist another goofy grin. The potion was doing something to his head, making him say things he generally preferred to keep under wraps. But it felt like a dream, as if she might not know in the morning because she wasn't really there.
Raistlin was just arriving at the top of the stairs when he saw this, and instinctively slunk back to the shadows.
"Dulak," he muttered, letting the Staff go dark. He drew in a sharp breath at hearing his apprentice, and suddenly felt ridiculous for spying on him. But he had a reason – he wasn't allowed up here. Dalamar had a habit of leaving doors ajar, and the draft that came in from this room went straight to his chambers below. Unable to turn away, he continued watching them, feeling increasingly silly with every passing moment. So Dalamar had come up here. He could punish his apprentice in the morning. What business was it of his what Dalamar did with Sikeen? As he pondered this, he watched the scene unfold.
"They're far too big for me," said Sikeen, returning his smile over her shoulder. He was acting strange – that much was clear. It must be the potion, she reasoned giddily, not sure if she minded. Dalamar was extremely attractive. If he wanted to run his hands through her hair and compliment her, she'd let him. After all, it was nothing. This was Dalamar.
"Maybe that's why I like how you look in them," he said, his hands brushing against her bare neck. She was getting dizzy from the electricity of his touch.
"You're certainly full of praise tonight," she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster. She was flattered. Would it really be so awful, she thought, to be with him? He was really a great friend. Maybe he could be more. It was the first time she'd considered it. As if answering her question, he put a hand on her waist and pulled her gently around to face him. His other hand floated down to her hips and he gave her a long, loaded stare. "What?" she asked, glancing frantically from one eye to the other. What was he thinking? "Dalamar?" she barely noticed as he inched closer to her, and in just a few moments his lips brushed lightly against hers. A buzz shot through her instantly, encouraging her to reach up to him and wrap her arms around his neck. Taking this as a cue, he pulled her closer to his body and kissed her again, silently, with greater force.
Immediately, something felt wrong. She pulled away several seconds later, taken aback. He certainly had a way with his tongue. But it felt… off. She was about to say something when he all but pushed her to the ground, his hands secured behind her back to break her fall. "Dalamar—" Before she could stop him, he kissed her again. The wound on the back of her head began burning again, and she feared it would open once more. Terrified, she kissed him back once before turning away. "Dalamar, stop!" It was as if he hadn't even heard her. He pinned her already-bruised wrists roughly to the tile, his head dipping into the curve of her neck, kissing her right above the cloth. The tingling of his touch was getting to be uncomfortable, and she instantly began searching their surroundings for a weapon. There was nothing. They were on a completely bare balcony, devoid of absolutely anything she could use to harm him. She thrashed as much as she could underneath his weight and was about to scream when he quickly transferred both her wrists to one broad hand, using the other to cover her lips.
"Shh," he said, meeting her eyes. There was something deceptively soothing in his voice, and something cold and vicious in his eyes. She pled as much as she could, silently, in the look that she gave him. She couldn't imagine herself looking anything less than absolutely petrified. The potion clouded her mind and her vision flickered back and forth between what was actually happening and the abuse she'd suffered as a child. Horrified, she let out a choked sob.
Instantly, something shifted within him. He released her as if she'd caught fire and scrambled backward, jumping to his feet. Speechless, he watched as she gasped for breath and sat up, tears streaming down her face. His eyes widened at the wet stain behind her – her head was bleeding again. "Gods, no," he said, shocked. What had he done? She reached one hand gingerly around and felt the back of her head, letting out another sob when she felt the blood. "I'm sorry. Sikeen, I'm sorry." His apology seemed to float out over the edge of the balcony. Stumbling slightly, she used the railing to pull herself to her feet and backed away from him, returning to the safety of the Tower. He was rooted in place, trying desperately to wrap his mind around his actions. "Sikeen, please," he begged, overcome with guilt.
Raistlin was frozen in place, watching the whole ordeal with sick curiosity. Just two weeks ago, Dalamar had implied that Raistlin would force himself on her, and ignore her when she screamed for him to leave. But just now, he'd witnessed Dalamar himself acting in that exact manner. Perhaps the reason why he was so paranoid was because it was something he'd do himself.
He should have stepped in. It didn't have to get to this point. Sikeen was bleeding again, though not as badly as before, and was obviously thoroughly shaken up. He should have stopped him. Why hadn't he? It was something he didn't have time to ponder, because as soon as she felt she was at a safe distance, she turned her back to Dalamar and ran, with full force, toward the stairwell. Raistlin stood, rooted to the ground, aware that she couldn't see him in the dark. She was about to run directly into him when she stopped, turning around again. Of course. She wasn't the type to run without at least saying something.
"I trusted you!" she screamed, her voice likely echoing over the Grove. Dalamar stood, eyes wide. He almost looked more shocked than her.
"I'm sorry," he said again, sounding rather meek. This was his chance. Raistlin hurried to the bottom of the stairwell, stopping before he entered his chambers. He couldn't do it. He couldn't just walk away like this.
"Shirak," he said. The Staff instantly lit up again.
Sikeen began hurrying down the stairs, assuming she was hallucinating when she saw the blue light at the bottom. She had to escape to her room, and bar the door with something. She would figure out a way out tomorrow, even if it meant traveling through the Grove by foot. Staying here was absolutely out of the question. On the landing, however, she realized she hadn't been hallucinating at all. Raistlin stood in the pale light, his brow slightly furrowed. She balked, sure she would vomit. Had he seen? Had he heard?
There was no time to ask. Dalamar's footsteps were echoing through the stairwell, and she needed to get out of his sight, and fast. She wanted to get as far away from him as possible, but the Tower made that difficult. If she went down the stairs now, he could corner her on the landing below. That, or he could simply come into her room before she had a chance to block the door. Thinking on her feet, she darted past Raistlin and into his chambers. Thankfully, she heard no protest over her shoulder.
When Dalamar reached the landing, he recoiled immediately at the sight of his master.
"Shalafi, you're awake," he said quickly, slightly frenzied and still under the influence.
"Go to your quarters. Now," said Raistlin sternly, glaring at him through the darkness.
"Did you see—"
"Now. I don't want to see you or hear you until morning." He had no choice but to obey. Praying Sikeen was in the stairwell, he rushed down the stairs and emerged at the bottom, disappointed. Her door was still ajar. There was no way she was in her quarters. And he had a strong suspicion that she wouldn't have gone back to his, either. Disappointed that he couldn't properly apologize and confused, he slunk back to his chambers and collapsed on the sofa, still unable to wrap his mind around what he'd done. She would never trust him again. He'd completely destroyed their friendship, in just a matter of minutes. Did Shalafi know? Would he even see her again, or would she hide from him forever?
He hadn't meant to. He hadn't planned it, or even thought about it until it had happened. Not much, anyway. Was it because he hadn't even seen a woman in months before she arrived? Was it the potion? He didn't know, but he was ashamed, and feeling more remorse than he could remember ever feeling before. Dazed, he collapsed onto the sofa in his chambers and fell asleep.
Raistlin, meanwhile, shut the door behind him carefully. There was only one candle lit in his quarters – the one on his desk. Where was she? He peered around the darkness. There was no sight of her anywhere in the bedroom or sitting area.
"Sikeen?" he said, wondering if his mind had been playing tricks on him. Maybe she'd gone down the stairs when he turned around, or snuck out before he walked in. Not expecting to find anything, he checked the bathroom. Still no sign of her. Next, he tried the walk-in closet.
There she was, curled up underneath his robes. The shadows fell over her dark clothing and if he hadn't had the staff with him, he wouldn't have noticed her. In her hands was his letter opener, clutched tightly. Apparently, she'd fallen asleep instantly. After an event like that? It seemed odd.
He didn't have the heart to wake her. Quickly, he mumbled a spell to stop the bleeding from her head and turned away. He would ask her to leave in the morning, he decided, about to shut the door and sleep in his own bed. Before he did, however, he stopped himself, and left it a crack open. That way, she wouldn't wake up in total darkness. He stepped back into his bedroom and ran a hand through his hair. Could he really let her stay here? It seemed… improper. But she was already asleep, after all. It wasn't his choice to make. Unless he was willing to wake her up and force her to go downstairs, and that much closer to Dalamar, who she was obviously terrified of right now. He'd seen the way she'd bolted into his chambers when she'd heard him coming. Perhaps she hadn't intended to fall asleep here at all. Maybe she was just hiding, and had inadvertently passed out.
He'd talk to her in the morning. Right now, he was growing weary. He blew out the candle on his desk and got into bed, wondering if Dalamar would bring him tea tomorrow. If he was as exhausted as Sikeen, probably not.
| - - : - - x - - : - - |
Sikeen awoke with a start, clutching the letter-opener even tighter. It was a moment before she realized she was still in Raistlin's closet – the beam of light from the cracked door was what tipped her off. As quietly as she could, she crawled out from under the robes and pushed the door open, listening for Raistlin. There was nothing but silence for a moment, and then he started coughing. From what she could tell, it sounded bad. In fact, it wouldn't stop. For a couple of minutes he hacked violently, and then he sucked in several desperate gasps of air. She heard the shuffling of bedcovers and a thud, and then more coughing.
Damn, now he'll never leave. She had been hoping he would be gone by the time she woke up. Then, she could escape quietly and approach the Grove. She wouldn't have to say goodbye to him or Dalamar. Unfortunately, right now Raistlin seemed like he would never leave. Figuring it was best to just nod her farewell and make her exit, she stepped out of the closet.
Immediately, she hesitated. He was on his knees on the floor, leaning on one arm with the other pressed against his chest. His face was contorted in agony and he let out another cough, drops of blood appearing on the wood floor. She squeezed her eyes shut, hating the sympathy he was evoking from her. He looked absolutely helpless.
Where was Dalamar? Could she avoid him and get the tea? What time was it, anyway? How many deliveries had she missed? He looked up and saw her standing there, and was about to stand himself when he delved into another coughing fit. When he was done, he finally spoke, his voice raspy from his raw throat.
"Good morning," he said, forcing himself to his feet. She winced, watching him. She'd seen him sick before and she'd heard him cough just as violently from outside the door before. But somehow, seeing him suffer from up close like this made her feel guilty for how often she was late with his tea. Or, for that matter, how often she ignored her duties completely. "You're awake." He brushed himself off, coughing again slightly.
"Yes… Did Dalamar bring the tea?"
"Never mind that. May I have my letter opener back?" She grimaced, remembering the makeshift weapon she had grabbed last night. Feeling foolish, she walked over to the desk and placed it gently down. Despite the fact that she could do quite a bit of damage with a letter opener, it must have seemed ridiculous to him.
She wanted to offer to go down to the kitchen and brew tea, but she didn't have the heart to potentially face Dalamar again. There was no way she could look the dark elf in the eye after what he'd attempted last night, let alone be alone with him. It was a complete breach of her trust. Her face fell as she tried to wrap her mind around it once more. He'd almost… she couldn't finish the thought. He was her friend. And yet, he'd still ignored her when she told him to stop.
Raistlin noticed her expression, but didn't know what to say. Would she want to discuss it with him? Did she even know he'd seen? Deciding to ignore the situation, he made his way to the door.
"Where are you going?" she asked suddenly, snapping out of her reverie. She hoped he'd lock the door when he left.
"The kitchen." She took a deep breath, once again wishing she could offer to make the tea for him. He looked especially sunken today. "I brewed it myself during the War," he said, noticing her guilt. With that, he made his exit and trotted down the stairs.
He couldn't let her stay here for too long. It would be too strange, having her sleep in the closet every night. And what was the other alternative? Letting her sleep in his bed while he slept in the closet? His mind jumped to a third conclusion – letting her occupy the other half of his bed – but he shoved it from his thoughts immediately. After what he'd witnessed last night, he had a feeling Sikeen wouldn't sleep within ten feet of anyone. He'd have to ask her to stay in her own room tonight.
Meanwhile, she had made a decision. She would wait until they were both asleep and then sneak out the ground-level exit to approach the Grove by night. It was a tremendously risky plan, but death in the forest would be better than being trapped here with Dalamar. She'd already been trapped and abused, and had no interest in dealing with it again.