Chapter Fourteen- To Betray
Oct. 14th, 2006 05:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skull_bearerShadow Valkyrie: Dalamar has a whole category of things that go into his nightmares, Tarsis, Silvanesti (both times), Raistlin’s Test, the time they were fighting ogres in the Kaolyn mountains and the whole plateau they were on gave way, I could go on. But he really doesn’t need any additions. Of course, we all know he’s going to get them, regardless. ;)
Fading Echo: (splutter) What? Implausible? Do we have a heretic in our midst? How dare you blaspheme the holiness that is Raistlin/Dalamar slash! Oh. I see, you’re a new convert. Okay, we’ll dispense with the burning and give you a second chance. (grumbles)
Seriously, I’m glad you like it, although I think I’m being a bit unfair to the good guys, still, I am writing from a POV which very much distains ‘good guys’, so how much is too much?
I hope you have your computer back in time to read this.
Dalamar Nightson: Antagonists do make things more interesting, although Raistlin and Dalamar might not agree )
Not quite the end yet, this ended up being very long, so the end will be next chapter.
Livejournal-
analia the 1st: Thank you very much, and cheers for the beta.
sookail: Air is good, and for writers, reviews are better :), thank you.
DeviantART-
extra special thank you to Myar for promising me another lovely Raistlin/Dalamar pic. I'm looking forward to it already!
halokitty: Thank you.
Also if anyone is interested, I have finally posted some art on my DeviantART page, so if you want to see my pictures of the characters, go here:
http/ skull-bearer. deviantart. com/ gallery/
So I was wrong, one more chapter after this.
Nocturnale
Chapter Fourteen- To Betray
I tell the stories in your sleep,
and spell the words you cannot find,
I am your forsaken mind.
Revelations, Angels and Agony
It was a long three days.
They didn't dare leave the inn, only leaving their rooms for meals. The others followed their example, much to the mages' surprise. They hadn't related where Tanis was to them, so they simply thought him missing. Caramon had made a few tentative suggestions to go out and look for their missing friend, but had been talked out of it by Tika. If Tanis had been gone this long, he had almost undoubtedly fallen into enemy hands. Raistlin had suppressed a snort. Enemy arms more like.
It had been nerve-racking, constantly on edge, half-expecting every patrol that passed the inn to break in and arrest them. But all had passed without incident; barring the time three draconians had snuck away from their platoon and paid the inn a visit, an occurrence that had nearly given their presence away. It had only been the sight of the three monsters getting messily drunk that had kept them from attacking them.
But finally, it was the night before they were to sail. Tanis still hadn't appeared and Raistlin was starting to wonder if it might be just a little too long now. Surely even Kitiara couldn't stay in bed that long; she was a Dragon Highlord after all. Raistlin reconsidered that last statement and mentally amended it, yes, Kit would do that. But still, it would be unlike his sister not to try and gain some information while Tanis was with her; it had been more than five years since they met- not counting the Nightmare- and surely she would be interested to know where her lover had been. What happened then would matter on how good a liar Half-elven was.
He could imagine it all too well; the two would have spent a few hours in bed, and Kitiara would ask a question. Innocently prying. Tanis would answer without thinking, and let something slip. He'd try and cover it up, but if there was anything Tanis was worse at than lying, it was trying to pretend he wasn't lying. Kitiara would realise the truth and then it would be down to the dungeons for a more in-depth interrogation. Raistlin wasn't stupid enough to believe his sister would let Tanis get in the way of her ambition, not this same person who had been perfectly ready to let him die before he gained enough power to become a threat to her.
The only question, Raistlin decided, was how long it would take before Tanis told Kitiara all she wanted to know, and she dispatched an army of Draconians after them. Hopefully not before they had sailed, and then it wouldn't matter.
But then again, if Kitiara knew where they were, then she knew where they were sailing to, and she would make sure the place was crawling with Draconians by the time they arrived. Not to mention -a sickening twist- that as a Dragon Highlord, Kitiara had access to Dragons which could easily follow the ship and burn it to ashes.
And wasn't it possible that Tanis had already told Kitiara everything, and instead of sending out Draconians to the inn, and risk losing an already wary prey, she simply set up an ambush at the Perechon and waited for her prey to come to her?
Raistlin shuddered, and burrowed closer to Dalamar. Either way, it would be Tarsis all over again, and he didn't know if he had enough control over the Dragon Orb to stop them getting massacred.
Raistlin glanced over at the table where the Dragon Orb lay in its enchanted bag. He hadn't touched it in three days, and had a creeping dread of touching it again. It wasn't that his last attempt had gone badly, exactly. He had discovered more of the Orb's powers, those of telepathy and teleportation. But yet...
There was Fistandantilus for one thing. The lich hadn't attacked him since he took control of the Orb, but Raistlin could feel him stirring on the edges of his mind when he had communicated with the Orb. It could have been his imagination, but his hands had grown strangely numb when he held the artefact. Although what the lich wanted, Raistlin didn't know. He had control of the Orb, didn't he?
Raistlin kept repeating those words to himself, but the truth was, he didn't know. There was something unwelcoming about it. It felt uncomfortable in his hands, as thought its very substance repelled him- or perhaps, was repelled by him. Raistlin had no idea if this was normal with the Orbs, but when he compared it with the only other artefact he knew- the Staff of Magius- he felt there was something wrong.
The Orb's attitude towards him was another worry. He had expected, having subdued it, that it would serve him. Yet when he touched it, he felt like a child being given leave to play with an adult's possession- something he didn't and would never understand. It was immensely frustrating, and Raistlin was certain the Orb was keeping secrets from him.
Perhaps Dalamar was right, Raistlin mused, starting up at the cracked ceiling. Perhaps the Orb did hold the knowledge of how he could rid himself of his unwelcome guest, and that Fistandantilus was deliberately keeping that from him. The thought that the lich could have any control over the artefact was a frightening one by itself, although since the creature hadn't tried to use it yet, Raistlin hoped that his influence- if any- was limited.
The whole situation was a mass of fearsome illusions that might just be real, and Raistlin longed to be free of them. It was like being caught in a spiral of dread, each fear feeding off the others and dragging him further and further down...
"Raistlin!"
Raistlin jerked awake. He hadn't realised he had dosed off. He didn't understand what had woken Dalamar. The room was as dark and dank as ever, the only sound that of the rising gale rattling the ill-fitting shutters.
"What?" He mouthed, knowing Dalamar would see it.
The Dark elf pressed a finger to his lips, sitting perfectly still.
Now Raistlin could hear the sound that had woken Dalamar. The heavy footsteps and clinking metal of someone wearing armour came from downstairs.
The two mages looked at each other, and scrambled out of bed. They had prepared for such an eventuality; their belongings were packed and they had slept dressed. Raistlin pulled his boots on, grabbed his staff and pack, and slipped the Dragon Orb into a pocket of his robes before following Dalamar out the door.
The armoured stranger's footsteps were coming closer to the stairs, and Raistlin ducked behind a pile of barrels that were stacked next to the stairs. He and Dalamar had gone over several methods of escaping, in fear of this very event. This one would serve nicely.
Dalamar ducked behind a corner of the corridor as the invader mounted the stairs. A scout most likely, Raistlin decided, feeling slightly relieved. The rest of the troop was probably outside, but he felt better now the time had come to act. The waiting was always the worst part.
Hearing the footsteps come closer, Raistlin tightened his grip on his staff with one hand, the other reaching in a pocket to check on the Dragon Orb.
He couldn't see the figure as it mounted the stairs, there were no windows in the corridor, and unlike Dalamar, he couldn't see in the dark. Luckily, that meant that whoever was mounting the stairs couldn't see him either. Peering around one barrel, he could make out the outline of an armoured figure as it passed him, even blacker than the darkness around it. The only mercy was that it was too short to be a draconian.
Raistlin held his breath as he threaded his staff behind the figure's legs, and rapped the butt on the wooden floor.
Surprised by the sudden noise, the stranger started to turn, only to be struck down by Dalamar as the Dark elf flew at him. The figure staggered back with a grunt, which turned into a shout when Raistlin's staff knocked his legs out from under him, and finished as a brief cry as he sailed down the stairs and struck the floor with a crash that shook the inn to its foundations.
Dalamar pulled Raistlin to his feet and they leaped for the stairs as further bangs sounded, and the innkeep, the cook, the barmaid, and the rest of the Companions raced out to see what all the fuss was about.
Raistlin was halfway down the stairs before he wondered where the Dragonarmy patrol they had expected was. A few more steps down, he puzzled why a Dragonarmy scout would have been sent out to spy on them in full armour. A few more steps went by before he realised that their invader's dragonarmour fitted him very badly, in fact, several pieces had broken off when he'd hit the ground. By the time they had reached the ground floor, they weren't even hurrying any more, and Raistlin was completely unsurprised when Dalamar kicked off the figure's helm to reveal Tanis' unconscious face.
He and Dalamar shared a look that was half exasperation, half disgust, then realised they were no longer alone. Both the inn's patrons and staff were standing in various stages of descending the stairs, looking down at them with varying expressions of shock and horror.
"Tanis," Goldmoon murmured, clapping one hand over her mouth.
"A Dragonarmy officer!" The innkeeper shrieked, pulling at his hair in terror. "You just killed a Dragonarmy officer! They'll have our heads! They'll burn the Jetties to the ground! They'll cook us and feed us to those lizard-monsters! Get out of my inn!"
"Tanis?" Tika whispered, starting down only to be beaten to it by Goldmoon. The priestess knelt down beside the unconscious Half-elf, resting one hand on his forehead, murmuring a prayer. A soft blue light bathed the Half-elf's face and he let out a groan.
"He will be fine." She sighed, getting to her feet and glowering at Dalamar witheringly. "Was that strictly necessary?"
"We thought he was from the Dragonarmies!" Dalamar snapped, "How were we to know? And shut up!" The last was directed at the still babbling innkeeper, who Tika was trying to reassure. No, the Dragonarmies were not going to burn the inn to the ground. No, they had not just witness true healing. No, the unconscious man was not an officer in the Dragonarmies. Why was he wearing a Dragonarmy uniform? Well... um...
Tanis was slowly coming around, groaning. The helmet must have stopped him from suffering significant damage, but he no doubt had a headache to put the worse hangover to shame. Goldmoon and Caramon helped him over to a chair while Tika, with a bit of help from a few steel pieces, persuaded the inn staff that there had been no disturbance and that they had really slept the whole night uninterrupted.
"What exactly happened?" Tanis rested his head on the table, only looking up when Goldmoon handed him a glass of water.
"These two lunatics," Tika sent the two mages a very nasty look, "Thought you were from the Dragonarmies and knocked you down the stairs."
"And what, pray, were we supposed to think?" Raistlin hissed. "You are gone for three nights, during which we hear no word from you, so we expect you've been captured. Then you turn up, absolutely fine, and still in the armour you-" Raistlin broke off, one hand going to his mouth as the cough struck without warning. He held onto the table for balance as the spasms shook him, tasting the blood he hacked up. He felt Dalamar rub his back soothingly with one hand, the other holding a handkerchief to his lips. Raistlin's hand closed on the elf's arm for support, his grip growing painful as the iron bars around his lungs tightened. Finally, it passed, and he relaxed his grip on the elf's arm. He drew in a ragged breath, smiling his thanks through bloodstained lips.
The others were silent, looking at Tanis thoughtfully, finally Goldmoon spoke, her voice soothing, "We are glad you are alright, my friend, but where have you been? We've all been worrying about what might have happened."
Raistlin pulled up a stool next to the fireplace and stoked up the last dying embers of the fire. He pulled out a tin mug from his pack and the waterskin from Dalamar's, keeping one eye on Tanis as he made his tea.
Confronted by four enquiring faces and one accusing- Dalamar's- Tanis started to explain. He had run into the Dragon Highlord, and been captured- that was one use of the word that Raistlin had never heard before. As the Highlord had believed Tanis to be one of his officers, he had been pressed into serving. "I think Half-human means 'servicing'," Dalamar muttered, smiling grimly at Raistlin, who kept his head down to hide his own smile as he placed the mug by the embers to warm.
He looked up as Tanis finished his tale with a probably fictional account of his escape from the Dragonarmies. Most likely Tanis had skulked out of Kitiara's bed when the Highlord discovered her duties couldn't be put off any longer. But the others would never believe him if he told them. They'd believe Tanis if he told them the sky was green. Worse, Half-elven was quite deliberately deceiving them on accounts of the danger. What would happen when Kitiara returned to her bed and discovered him gone? She would probably turn the whole of Flotsam upside down in search of her errant lover- and discover them in the meantime.
Raistlin and Dalamar were silent as the others started to ask questions. How much of it was true and how much lies, only Tanis knew. The Half-elf avoided questions about the Highlord and his armies, so what little he did say about them was probably made up. An account of what he was asked to do was barely touched upon, and that was certainly fabricated. The only item of truth, as far as Raistlin could see, was when Tanis explained what the Dragonarmies were doing in Flotsam. Caramon had asked if the Dragonarmies were after them, and Tanis had replied that no, they weren't. They were searching for some human, called Berem or somesuch. Not only was this bit of information completely unlike the lies Tanis was covering himself with, but Dalamar had started slightly at the name. Obviously he knew who this was, although his face betrayed no expression.
Finally, they ran out of questions, and Tanis started to yawn and groan. Whether his exhaustion was real or feigned, Raistlin didn't know, but it fooled the others.
"I'm sorry, Tanis," Goldmoon apologised. "We've been selfish. You are cold and weary-" Raistlin snorted into his tea, earning himself another scowl from the plainswoman- "and we've kept you up too long. We must be up early to board the ship-"
"Damn it, Goldmoon!" Tanis' voice was shockingly loud, and apparently Tanis regretted it because he closed his eyes and rubbed his head with one hand, "We won't be boarding a ship in this gale." He growled.
Raistlin swallowed a mouthful of his tea, watching the faces of the other companions. They looked stunned, and Riverwind stepped closer to comfort his wife, who was looking deeply hurt as well as shocked.
Caramon cleared his throat awkwardly, "If we can't leave tomorrow, we'll try the next day-"
Dalamar and Raistlin looked at each other. Tomorrow might well be a day too late. If the others weren't leaving, they /they/ would. Better to take their chances alone than stay with Tanis when Kitiara found him.
Tanis rested his head on his hands and sighed, "I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you Goldmoon. It's been... nerve-racking... these past few days. I'm so tired I can't think straight. I'll go upstairs."
"You're room's been let out," Caramon put in, "But you can take my bed Tanis, I'll sleep on the floor."
Half-elven shook his head, "No, you-"
"Tanis," Tika said firmly, "You're hurt." Another nasty look at the perpetrators, "and you're tired. It's alright, we'll share the bed and you'll take the spare."
Tanis capitulated and nodded, and followed the others as they trooped back to their rooms. Raistlin finished his tea and packed away the mug, making a mental note to wash it later, and followed Tanis up the stairs.
"Tell me Half-elven," He whispered as he reached him, "Did you spend all your time in my sister's bed? Or was at there at least some truth in your little fiction?"
Had he hit Half-elven with a lightning bolt, the effect couldn't have been more electric. Tanis' eyes went so wide they seemed about to roll from their sockets, and his hand snatched to the pommel of his sword.
"Because if you did," Dalamar put in, standing next to Raistlin, his own hand going to his spell components, "Have the grace to admit it next time. These sheep would forgive you if you sold their souls to the Dark Queen- no need to be modest."
Half-elven was speechless, looking first at Raistlin, then at the Dark elf. "You-"
"Yes," Dalamar waved off his accusations idly, "But don't let us keep you." He nodded at Caramon and Tika who were waiting for Tanis at the top of the stairs, "You must be truly tired; three days solid! That'll take it out of anyone."
Raistlin slid an arm around the Dark elf's shoulders, and the two stepped past the thunderstruck Half-elf. "Interesting standards you have, Tanis." Raistlin whispered as they passed.
They didn't even try to sleep that night. Raistlin lit the candles and Dalamar stoked up the fire in the miserable grate before they sat beside it to talk. "Who's Berem?" Raistlin asked before Dalamar could speak.
"Berem? Oh, right, yes." Dalamar nodded and leant closer, "He was on the Perechon when we went there, a mute, he looked strangely familiar and I could swear I'd seen him somewhere before."
"But why send out a whole army after just one man?" Raistlin murmured, "Have you any idea where you might know him from?"
Dalamar shook his head, "No. I can't recall. It wasn't that long ago, but I just can't-" the Dark elf sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation.
Raistlin smiled, and stoked his hair, the fine strands slipping through his fingers like water. "Either way," he sighed, smile vanishing, "It just makes things more complicated. So Kitiara won't just be after Tanis when she realises he's missing, but also someone on the very ship we're planning to take. And all we can do is hope she doesn't realise where either of these people are before tomorrow."
Dalamar inclined his head, "Then it's decided, we're leaving?"
Raistlin nodded, "I'm not staying here any longer than I have too. If the Perechon is sailing tomorrow, then we'll be on it. If not, then I suggest finding other means out of the city, or at the very least different accommodation- preferably as far from Half-elven as possible." Raistlin paused and swallowed, trying to keep his breathing even as his chest tightened warningly.
Dalamar tapped his lower lip thoughtfully, "Do you think it might be worth telling the captain that the Dragonarmies are after the ship? We don't have to tell them about Berem, just suggesting that they want to commandeer the ship, or they want the crew arrested for piracy. Give them a reason to leave as soon as possible."
Raistlin nodded again, quite besides their own predicament, whatever the Dragonarmies wanted this Berem for, it couldn't be good. They wouldn't send an army if he was just a deserter, this had to be someone of some power. Either way, they had done enough to mark themselves as firm enemies of the Dragonarmies, and anything that could help the Highlords would most likely be bad for them.
"If we can," Dalamar said slowly, keeping his voice low- the walls were very thin here- "I would also suggest leaving without Half-elven. He and the others will be staying here tomorrow, and if we can convince the captain to sail, we should leave them behind. Your sister will be after Tanis and we should be as far away as possible when she finds him." He raised an eyebrow at Raistlin, no doubt expecting an argument that they should stay together for safety.
But for once, Raistlin knew when he was beaten. He nodded. They would be safer travelling alone. He had no illusions that Kitiara would be anything but hostile should she find them, and after the Nightmare, he had no intention of being friendly either. He reached over and ran a finger down Dalamar's shoulder, stroking over skin that, in the Dream, his sister's sword had cleaved through. He couldn't repress a shudder at the memory.
Dalamar caught his hand in both of his, stroking his thumb over the palm before pressing his lips to his knuckles. "Come on," he sighed, "One way or another, we've a long day ahead."
He got up and made to walk back to their bunk when Raistlin stopped him. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Dalamar's chest, resting his head on the Dark elf's shoulder with a sigh. Dalamar didn't resist, and Raistlin felt his arms slide around his waist in return. It had been a very long three days, and the days ahead looked to be longer still. They both needed what comfort they could make for themselves. Dalamar's skin was warm under his robes and his lips were soft when Raistlin kissed him.
Raistlin closed his eyes as Dalamar's mouth moved under his, his hands reaching up to his collar and starting to undo the buttons. He smiled as the elf's tongue rasped against his, and his free hand fell down to the small of his back.
Raistlin's cupped Dalamar's cheek with his own hand, fingers tracing the fine bones and ticking over his ear. The hand on Raistlin's back pulled him closer until they were pressed together, chest to chest, with Raistlin's knee parting Dalamar's thighs and both of them smiling into their kiss.
At first, Raistlin thought someone had walked in on them, although he didn't hear the door open. His skin prickled with the undeniable suspicion that they were being watched. Raistlin didn't let that bother him. If whoever was watching didn't like it, they could leave. It wasn't as though they were forcing anyone to stay.
Raistlin turned his head to kiss Dalamar's cheek, planning to work his way up to biting on the Dark elf's ears, which he always liked, and felt an odd chill in the pit of his stomach, quite unlike the usual fire that warmed him during their foreplay. It twisted him inside, and he felt rather sick, hoping it wasn't a prelude to a coughing fit. An odd prickling ran up along his spine to his shoulders, knotting up the muscles in a way that was more distracting than painful.
A cold and horribly familiar numbness spread up his arms from the knot, dulling all feeling and stealing control.
You! Raistlin screamed soundlessly, struggling against the unexpected attack. He thought he heard the foul lich's laughter and he fought off the ice threatening to spread through his body.
Raistlin felt as his hands suddenly spasmed, tightening on the elf's throat. He could feel the skin tearing under his nails, the blood welling up as Dalamar's pulse beat beneath his fingertips. Raistlin forced his hands away in horror, fighting for control, the ice spreading up to close on his brain.
Raistlin clenched his rebelling fists and backed away from Dalamar. His body jerked like a puppet on broken strings as he gathered his scattered thoughts to force the lich out of his mind.
"Raistlin!" At the sound of the Dark elf's voice, Raistlin's hands snapped open, against his control. A flash of murderous intent that had no place in his mind. Raistlin railed against it, screaming silently as he struggled to throw off Fistandantilus' control.
The lich apparently had no interest in another fight though and he withdrew, apparently satisfying himself with this poor show of his powers.
And with completely ruining my evening, Raistlin thought bitterly. He was on his knees on the floor, his limbs still shivering and jerking as Fistandantilus's control over them vanished. Finally, in a final spite, Raistlin doubled over and started coughing.
The fit was every bit as bad as the others he had suffered in the aftermath of Fistandantilus' control, and Raistlin curled up on himself, coughing until he half expected to drown in his own blood. It felt as though his lungs had been filled with broken glass.
He heard footsteps drawing closer, and the rustle of robes as Dalamar knelt down next to him. He didn't touch Raistlin, only watching as the spasms slowed and finally ebbed away entirely. Half-blinded by tears, Raistlin looked up and met Dalamar's carefully impassive stare.
"It happened again, didn't it?" He stated softly.
Raistlin dropped his gaze, he didn't answer. He didn't think he could speak, even without the pain still tearing through his chest.
"You told me it was over, that it wouldn't happen again." Dalamar's voice was deadpan, but his hand went to a livid scratch on the side of his neck. It was with a surge of revulsion that Raistlin realised that he had caused that. He could remember his fingers closing on Dalamar's throat, Fistandantilus guiding his hands as though they were his own.
A pain-filled smile twisted Dalamar's lips and he looked away, tears beading in his eyes. "We spend so long discussing threats," his voice cracked. "And now this." The tears slipped free, but Dalamar's smile didn't fade. "You told me it was gone, that it would never happen again. But-" This time his voice hid a sob, "you didn't listen when I told you not to use the Orb. And now this!" He repeated, and at last the horrible smile vanished, and Dalamar rested his head in his hands.
"It wouldn't have made any difference." Raistlin croaked, wondering as he did so, if it was true. He felt sick to his stomach, and reached out unconsciously to touch Dalamar, wanting to comfort him. He remembered the numb loss of control, how it felt for his fingers to dig into the soft skin of the elf's throat, and he snatched his hand back.
Dalamar watched him dully. "How can I know that? You said that before. Raistlin, you tried to strangle me." His hand went to the trickle of blood running down the side of his neck, his voice still flat and emotionless. "You tried to strangle me. How can I know that next time, you won't succeed?”
Raistlin didn't answer. There was nothing to say, there was everything to say. He wanted to tell Dalamar that it was alright, that it would never happen again, that he loved him, and would never hurt him. He wanted to say anything he had to convince Dalamar that he was safe, even though he knew it was a lie. He wanted to laugh at the world, or scream, he didn't know which. It had seemed like everything was going against them except each other, and now that too was going wrong.
He wanted to crawl into Dalamar's arms and cry; he wanted Dalamar to crawl in his arms and cry. He wanted to go back in time and stop this from happening. He wanted to be lying in Dalamar's arms, as he would have been if this hadn't happened. Most of all, he wanted Fistandantilus out of his mind so much he wanted to scream.
He did none of these things, only hanging his head and trying not to cry even as the tears welled up in his eyes. He wanted Dalamar to leave before he lost what dignity he had left.
The last at least happened. Dalamar got to his feet and picked up his pack. He turned to Raistlin and for a moment the human mage saw a crack appear in his emotionless, steely eyes. He walked back to him and hesitated. "I'll sleep downstairs. Take the bed, you need it."
Raistlin didn't answer but flinched when Dalamar touched his shoulder, as if the touch had been a brand. The Dark elf drew away, looked back at him once more, and left, closing the door behind him.
Raistlin listened as Dalamar's footsteps drew away. Once they paused, and Raistlin hoped and feared that the Dark elf would come back, but then they drew away again until the only thing he could hear was the whining of the gale against the shutters.
Skull Bearer.
