AN: I'd like to express my thanks to my wonderful reviewers. Thanks especially to my anonymous guest reviewer, who is checking for updates every day. I love to hear that people are waiting for chapters – it keeps me motivated! Sorry this one didn't come out sooner. I've been devoting fic time to my Harry Potter story, and I was a little confused about how to go about writing this chapter. I think you'll appreciate it though. ;D

b - l - a - d - e' - s - - e - d - g - e

- - : - - 13 - - : - -

The rest of the day passed without incident. It wasn't until after she'd delivered the last cup of tea for the day when her mind wandered to the conversation she'd had with Raistlin earlier. From what she could gather, he was afraid of falling in love with her. Or at least, he was afraid of being attracted to her. So maybe…

Her entire body froze as realization dawned on her. If he was afraid of it, he already was attracted to her. She knew men well enough. And this could absolutely be used to her advantage.

"I'd never be interested in you."

"That isn't what I was worried about."

She could hear the words in her mind as clearly as if he were before her right then. Oddly enough, it was Dalamar's voice she thought of next.

"And how is the seduce-Shalafi-to-escape plan going?"

Suddenly, she was resolute. Being respectful to him wasn't even necessary. She'd essentially already won her escape. All she had to do now was ask for it – nicely. Feeling satisfied, she finished her braid and neatly tied it off. This would take a little bit of planning, but escape suddenly seemed in the realm of possibility.

Her heart skipped a beat.

But despite her realization, she still spent the next few days on her best behavior, observing him just to make sure. He didn't betray much, but she caught him watching her curiously sometimes out of the corner of her eye. This became more and more obvious as the days went by. It wasn't until a week had passed that he brought it up.

"I'm not sure if I like this," he said, leaning back in his chair. He took a sip of his tea. Arrogance dripped from his every move. Gods, how did someone make superiority look so effortless? It was almost attractive.

"Not sure if you like what, Shalafi?" she replied. Though it was still difficult, the title came to her lips far more easily now. He sighed, starting again.

"I've noticed you're quite… tame. Recently." She cocked her head at him slightly, wondering what, exactly, he was trying to say.

"I suppose there's no reason for disobedience, is there?"

"No, I suppose not. But you bore me," he said with a smirk. The glare he was so used to flickered for a moment in her eyes.

"What would you have me do?" she asked, her jaw tensed slightly. He just had a wonderful time provoking her. For a moment, she thought she might have to review her theory – maybe he wasn't attracted to her at all.

She realized the theory was fine as it was when he looked away quickly, to his left. A telltale sign that he was hiding something.

"Never mind. You're dismissed," he said, turning back to his desk. She frowned, taking a step toward him.

"Shalafi," she said quietly.

"You're dismissed, Sikeen," he repeated. She glared, hating how he pushed her away when she had something to say.

"Raistlin." He froze for a moment before turning to look at her slowly. There was just a slight hint of bewilderment on his face. Obviously, he was surprised. She hadn't made that mistake in a long time. This time, however, it wasn't a mistake. He still didn't move as she took several more steps toward him. She leaned down with one hand on either side of the chair, her eyes hard. He could smell her shampoo again. He was about to open his mouth to say something when she continued.

"I know you're in love with me." The words hovered between them, unforgiving. Those massive, eerie blue eyes stared. They demanded truth. Raistlin was not an easy man to crack, but he felt himself slipping then. She'd spoken with complete, unadulterated confidence. She'd gotten inside his head. She knew.

And it wasn't until then that he knew himself, because the way she'd said it made him understand. Somewhere down the line…

He'd made a horrible mistake.

But it was too late to correct, and he couldn't bring himself to remember a single magical word as she drifted closer to him. In fact, his mind was absolutely blank until the moment their lips finally touched.

He'd never heard his own heart beat so fast. One hand drifted up to her hair and he let his fingers stroke it gently once more. It still felt like silk to him, even if it did look unkempt. It was barely a moment later when she pulled away slightly, her eyes opening again to meet his. Even with the hourglasses, symbols of his nearly limitless power, he looked absolutely startled. He surprised them both when he managed to speak.

"This isn't right." His voice was remarkably even. She thought he would push her away and she would have said something if he hadn't leaned up just then to meet her lips again. It wasn't quite as gentle as hers; Raistlin's kiss was demanding. In it, she could feel anger – perhaps because she'd forced him to come to terms with himself. Despite herself, a low groan escaped her throat. She wasn't sure how, exactly, but she found herself lowered over him onto the chair.

She was straddling the most powerful mortal being.

Breathless, she pulled away again.

"No. No, it's not," she said quickly. He still looked shocked, even after kissing her so aggressively. Gods, she was supposed to have control over this situation. It wasn't supposed to be like this, with her arms wrapped around him like she meant it. She wasn't supposed to be looking at him like she meant it.

"Then what are you doing?" he asked, bewildered.

She jumped away from him like he'd caught fire, straightening her shirt.

"Nothing. It was a mistake. Sorry," she said quickly. He cocked her head at her, frowning slightly. It was clear on his face that he was confused. Horribly, utterly confused. Yet, somehow, he still managed a degree of finesse she hadn't imagined he could possess. She was reminded suddenly of when she'd taunted him in the stairwell, whispering in his ear. He hadn't even flinched. And, though he was surprised now, he still hadn't flinched. He looked away, drawing in a slow, deep breath.

"My mistake," he said reluctantly. Once again, she realized he was struggling with something he hadn't mentioned to her. She crossed her arms and furiously fought back a blush. "I shouldn't have let you—" He stopped himself. "That is, I shouldn't have…"

Her brow furrowed. She didn't want him to continue. She didn't want to know why she wasn't good enough for him, or whatever it was. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe he truly didn't care about her. Dejected, she whirled around on her heel and darted out of the room.

Raistlin, meanwhile, stared after her. Even if it didn't show on his face, he was absolutely stunned. Had she really...? He could still feel the tingle on his lips from hers, and her hair under his fingers. It wasn't until then that he allowed himself a slight blush. It didn't make sense. Why would she suddenly come onto him like that?

Oh, right. He'd told her.

"I know you're in love with me."

She wanted escape.

Did she really think he'd let her go after that?

| - - : - - x - - : - - |

Later at night, Sikeen was having a hard time sleeping. She couldn't remember throwing herself into a kiss like that before. It shocked her, how easily she gave into him.

"This isn't right." That was what he'd said before leaning in for that heated, forceful kiss. She should have predicted he would have that kind of aggression in him. He was used to control. And he had a starving, rampant curiosity engrained in him that obviously applied to every part of his life, arcane or not.

She curled up, pulling the blanket closer around her. Why had she let him kiss her again? The whole point of approaching him like that had been to force him to accept that he was in love with her. Maybe she'd accomplished that goal, but she'd also given him some part of herself. With her arms wrapped around him, she'd felt vulnerable, in a way. And that was definitely not part of the plan.

Was she in over her head? She often felt like she was. He was so powerful – more powerful than she could have imagined. That hadn't really been clear to her until tonight. Before, she'd lost to him in battles of control and intimidation, but this… This was different. She'd lost something else to him. She sighed, frustrated. She was already imprisoned underneath him for the rest of her life. What more control could he possibly have over her?

As dawn approached, she grew weary. Soon, she would have to go see him again, and she wasn't ready for that. Not so soon after that awkward encounter. But if she didn't bring him the tea, his cough would come back. Reluctantly, she dragged herself out of bed. Tipping her hat to Conclave for succeeding in ensuring her misery, she padded down to the kitchen. Her hand shook as she poured the water. From weakness or nervousness, she didn't know.

The kitchen always housed a peculiar sort of light at that time. It hovered somewhere between the yellow, sunny glow of day and the darkness of the night. As she peered around at the old wooden table and appliances, she began to feel a sort of warmth overtake her. How many days had she spent here so far? It was impossible to tell, but somehow, it was slowly becoming familiar. Safe.

Home.

She sighed, shoving the thoughts from her mind. She was Sikeen Tirmedhi, and she was above this place. Suddenly, the door opened. There stood Dalamar, who seemed surprised to see her.

"Sikeen." His only greeting was her name. Immediately after it left his lips, he glanced to the counter. The knife was gone, but he knew he'd be foolish to think she couldn't arm herself with anything at all. Slowly, he took a step backward.

"Scared of me now, are you? Don't worry, Dalamar the Dull, I've taken my revenge." She flashed him a saccharine grin. "You have nothing to fear." His skin crawled. The pain in his arm was still there, and only slightly less sharp than it had been the day he received the wound. The healing process was remarkably slow. "What are you doing here? It's early."

"I didn't know you'd be here. Honest. But I was hoping…" he trailed off, losing his thoughts in her vacant, frigid stare.

"What? If you haven't noticed, I've got something to take care of." He cleared his throat, still safely on the other side of the doorway.

"I just want things to be as they were again. I was hoping I didn't damage our friendship beyond repair. I suppose I got used to… you," he finished awkwardly. She pursed her lips at him.

"What are you willing to do, then?" He looked a bit taken aback at this.

"Sorry?" She sighed, rolling her eyes and taking a few swift steps toward him.

"Here," she said, shoving the tea in his hands. "Take this to him."

"I'm not going to—" He stopped abruptly when she fixed him with her usual ice-cold stare. Startled, he immediately turned on his heel and started up the steps. Satisfied with herself, Sikeen returned to her room. That had been easy enough.

Maybe she could get Dalamar to take care of all her tea responsibilities. That way, she could just live as a ghost in the Tower, and Raistlin would never see or hear her again. That wouldn't be so bad, considering the other alternative.

But what was the other alternative? Finding out what might happen if she stayed close to him?

She wasn't sure if that was a door she was willing to open.