Est_20: 04 Past Times- Words

[skull_bearer]

 A follow-on from that old meme, Five times Dalamar made Raistlin feel very stupid. It's been almost a year since I came up with that idea, I may as well write it. Apologies for non-fluffyness.

Second part hopefully tomorrow, it'll be happier, promise.

 
TITLE: Words
AUTHOR: Skull Bearer
FANDOM: Dragonlance
PAIRING: Raistlin/Dalamar
GENRE: Slash
TABLE: Here
PROMPT: 04- Past Times
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 1031
SUMMARY: Words can hurt more than anything, especially if you mean them. Is followed by 'Deeds'.
WARNINGS: None really, not happy.
DISCLAIMER: *****

You sway, when you are lost
Just sway, when you don't know
-Sway, Lost Prophets

Raistlin threw down his pack. The gesture was more symbolic than anything, Dalamar had long ago taken anything heavy, but the meaning was clear- he wasn't moving another step.

Dalamar chuckled, and followed suit, his pack clinking. "Not even to get closer to the canteen?" He teased.

Raistlin snorted, "We have enough for tonight. If you want food, you can go and get it."

 

The elf smirked, and eased himself to the ground, as though his legs had locked after so many hours march. Raistlin just let himself drop. He'd been promising himself this since the march had begun, and the relief was immense. At last. They really weren't being paid enough for this.

Dalamar stretched his legs out with a groan, and Raistlin lay flat on his back. Everything hurt. They'd been going for the full day, and after a few hours even Raistlin had been forced to swallow his pride and take his turn with the weak and wounded in the wagons. That turn had ended a few hours after midday, and he'd been walking since.

 

Thank Lunitari there wouldn't be much further to go, and certainly not for a few days. The remnants of the army they had been paid to hunt down would be around here somewhere, and from now on it would be up to the scouts to find them, scouts that, mercifully, didn't include them.

Dalamar turned, and lay down next to him, one hand tracing down Raistlin's face. "How are you feeling?"

Raistlin turned; the grass they were laying on fell to ash, making Dalamar look as though he was lying on a bed of cinders. He smiled and closed his eyes, and the grass was alive once again, pressing against his cheek as he rolled over to rest his head against Dalamar's shoulder.

"Early night, I think." The elf remarked, stroking his hair.

Raistlin yawned; really, he was in danger of missing dinner entirely and falling asleep right here and now if Dalamar continued. Only the knowledge that if he slept now, he'd be awake for most of the night kept him from giving in. Sleep later, and have a nice long lie-in tomorrow morning, maybe even accompanied by a bit of fun afterwards, if Dalamar was in the mood. They were close to a grove of tree, so privacy shouldn't be a problem.

 

His musings were rudely interrupted by a clatter of noise from the road.

Raistlin sat up stiffly. By the end of the march he and Dalamar had been bringing up the rear, and he couldn't remember anyone being behind them.

Oh, of course.

The camp followers.

Raistlin grimaced, and flopped back down next to Dalamar. The elf looked at him quizzically, but Raistlin was counting in his head. Any minute now... one, two, three...

As if on queue, the cheers and cat-calls started from the main camp. Gods, it made him feel sick. Those women, practically naked, throwing themselves at those men. Revolting. He scowled up at the darkening sky.

He'd always found it disgusting, even before, when it was Caramon the girls were launching themselves at. He had wondered if it was jealousy to begin with, but now he knew better. That he would ever want to be on the receiving end of that...

But he had been, hadn't he? The ghost of Amberyl rose up in his mind and Raistlin felt sick, and wished they had enough water to wash with. After Amberyl he'd wanted to scrub his skin off, and it was only Dalamar's desperate arguments that this was midwinter and he would probably kill himself getting wet that stopped him.

And those women! At least Amberyl had an excuse, it hadn't been her fault any more than it had been Raistlin's which was why, in his heart, he really couldn't hate her. But these women, doing it willingly... If anyone did that to him, he'd kill them.

Dalamar was still looking at him. "Was that camp followers?" His voice held an odd edge.

Raistlin didn't look at him, still staring up at the sky, the few clouds were tinted pink now, the sunset would be beautiful. "Yes." He spat. "Lunitari, I'd wish they would just go away. It's always like this, every time. Every time it's disgusting. Who would stoop to doing that for a living?"

Dalamar didn't answer and Raistlin tore his eyes away from the glowing clouds to look at him.

 

Five minutes ago, if Raistlin had the ability to forget just one thing in his life, he'd have chosen Amberyl. Now, it would have been that look. Raistlin didn't care what it would cost him; he wanted to forget that look. No, more than anything he wanted to go back in time those few seconds and stitch his own mouth shut, so that he would never say those blasted, blasted words.

The look on Dalamar's face.

It wasn't even an expression, just a black, dead look, drilling through him like a swordblade. There were a thousand words in that look, but Raistlin didn't try and pick them out, he didn't have to. They bypassed his brain and went straight to his heart. His throat knotted up in a way that had nothing to do with his cough.

"Dalamar..." Raistlin had no idea what to say. There was nothing to say. Sorry would even begin to cover it. There were no words in Common or elven or any other language to express the bone deep, horror-stricken hatred he felt for himself at that moment.

Dalamar didn't say anything. He got to his feet, grabbed his pack, and turned it upside down. Pans and blankets and parchment tumbled out in chaos. He picked up his spellbook and bedroll, then paused and looked back at Raistlin. For a moment he thought he was about to say something, the black gaze faltering for a moment, the steel cracking behind his eyes. His lips moved soundlessly, but before Raistlin could do anything, say anything, Dalamar turned and walked away, disappearing into the trees.