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Date Posted: 13:49:14 04/10/02 Wed
Author: Rowan and Tristan
Subject: An experiment
In reply to: Tia, Marz, Ravin 's message, "Time to get a few hours of sleep" on 10:27:14 04/10/02 Wed

Rowan couldn’t remember being so furious over something so trivial in his whole life. ”Not tonight”? What the hell does she mean, “not tonight”? he wondered, his jaw unconsciously clenching together. He tried desperately to reign his temper in, but for once he was just too livid to even care. Although he had detected something fairly significant in the way she’d said the words, he was still too hurt to really think about it.

“Why would she say no?” he muttered to himself, “Who the hell says no to me, anyway?” He knew her words had bruised his ego pretty badly, but there was something else that was bothering him, although he couldn’t put his finger on it. Why tell him no now? The whole time he’d been under the impression that they were just waiting for some private time, just as she’d promised earlier in the west tower. Ever since then, Rowan ached to have her in his arms, to feel her light weight on top of his again as she bent down and used her teeth to unlace his pants!

“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me again.” Jeremy’s cheeky remark annoyed Rowan even further, and he brought his head up to shoot a cold look in the boy’s direction. “I’ll be in the house we made it in earlier, if you’re interested,” he continued, smiling excitedly as he scampered off.

No! he told himself angrily, Not another round with him, Silvertree. Not so soon! He cared too much, enjoyed himself way too much with Jeremy, despite the fact that he was just some stupid inexperienced hormone-driven kid.

“Not tonight, kiddo,” he mocked quietly, his face pulling into an ugly smirk. With that, he stood up and hurled his wineglass into the fire, uttering a loud elven curse as he did so. He continued muttering curses all the way back to one of the empty houses before walked into one, slamming the door behind him. He undressed quickly, almost ripping his clothes he was so pissed off, before laying his weapons down beside them and crawling under the blankets of the large, single bed.

“I do not need sex,” he grumbled to himself, rolling around as he tried to get comfortable. “I don’t need any of them!” He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, but the peaceful rest he sought was a long time coming.

~*~*~*~*~

Tristan stayed with his back pressed against Marz’s chest, pulling his arms protectively around him after they had made love in the warm waters of the hot spring. He couldn’t remember ever being so at peace with himself and everything around him as he was right now. He could feel Marz’s heart beating against his skin and the way his breath tickled against his neck as he kissed him there. He wished, almost passionately, that this moment could last forever.

It couldn’t, of course, and soon they waded back toward shore and collected their things before heading toward one of the houses. Tristan glanced toward the campfire, noticing that no one was present, but decided he wouldn’t have really cared if there had been. After being with Marz, his modesty was always shed for a while, his senses completely open to the world around him as if he were walking through it for the first time ever.

When Erlic flagged them down and told them about Eremis, however, Tristan’s good mood nearly evaporated. His shoulders tensed automatically as he listened to Marz’s teacher, his hands curling instinctively into fists.

Once they were in bed together, Marz did his best to stop him from worrying. He tried to paint the woman, Kisa, in a better light, suggesting rather hopefully that she didn’t really know what she’d been getting into. Tristan only half-listened, his heart starting to blacken as he thought about the traitorous bitch who’d force fed his dear friend the addictive drugs. He knew Marz might be right about her, but he was feeling so emotional right now that it was hard to concentrate on facts and logical speculation as he should.

And Tristan knew what Marz didn’t—that Kisa had slept with Eremis, been his first, the way Marz had been Tristan’s first. Both had fallen in love with their lovers, only Kisa had not returned the healer’s affections the way Marz had returned his. In his mind and in his heart, this knowledge made Tristan hate her all the more, until he began to feel that if he should see her, not even Marz could stay his hand from slaying her on the spot.

Gradually, however, the tense feelings of anger and frustration faded away for a little while, as Marz caressed and gently cajoled his mind and his body until he was smiling again. “I love you, too,” he murmured, closing his eyes and pressing his face against Marz’s chest. He felt his lover enfold him with his arms before completely relaxing beside him, and that was his last conscious sensation as he drifted into sleep.

Hours later, his eyes opened slowly again, to stare at the wall opposite the bed. He lay in bed for a moment, not moving, just staring blankly, his fingers rubbing idly at the pillow under his head. A sudden thought came to him, and he carefully untangled himself from Marz to lean over the side of the bed, grabbing at the bundle of clothes on the floor. Quickly, he withdrew the crystal ball and edged back against Marz, curling slightly beside him as he held the orb up and stared into its depth.

“Please,” he whispered, “Show me my friend, Eremis.”

To his relief, the thing was working properly again, and after fuzzing up for a couple seconds, it cleared to reveal the healer’s face. He was standing in a room with that other guy again, but Tristan couldn’t tell from his surroundings where he was exactly. After a while, he sighed and looked away from the crystal ball, thinking for a minute before turning and setting it gently down on the floor again. He moved back toward Marz, who shifted slightly in his sleep, throwing an arm and a leg around him to pull him instinctively closer.

That’s when another idea hit him. His breath caught as he thought about it, his heart automatically beginning to race a bit. He remembered that time when they had first learned about the result of the tavern attack, when Marz had gone nearly mad and almost gotten himself killed. Tristan had brought him upstairs and laid him in a bed, feeling only moderately surprised when his fast-healing lover had opened his eyes and slowly sat up. After speaking a few words, he’d moved to wrap his arms around Tristan, pulling him into an intense embrace—and then something had begun to happen. Tristan had gotten the distinct feeling as if they were making love without physically doing so, and for a moment, their spirits had seemed to soar up out of their bodies and merge together somewhere in between, their energies blending together to form one, single entity.

Finally, now, Tristan grasped the potential of what they were. Not just he and Marz separately, but together, bound physically, mentally, and spiritually as one person. And if their essences could blend together, then so could their individual powers, freeing Tristan’s normally dormant dragonic magic to merge with Marz’s fiery abilities.

“Marz,” he said, turning his head to whisper into his ear. He ran his fingers over his body, shaking him with one hand while gently caressing his skin with the other. “Marz, wake up,” he continued, moving to kiss him on the lips, slipping his tongue in to taste the inside of his mouth. Slowly, he felt Marz begin to respond, and then more rapidly, his hands coming alive to roam in turn over Tristan’s body, as well.

“Please,” Tristan whispered, his mouth moving to his chin, his jaw, his neck, his shoulder, “Make love to me again.”

There was no further urging required. But for the first time, Tristan tried not to focus on just the sensual aspect of what was happening; he stretched his mind farther, inhaling the slow buildup of power starting to sizzle around their bodies. His sharp intake of breath when they were physically joined was partly because he felt them merging in other ways, too. Gradually, as the sexual heat and tension between them increased, so did their spiritual selves, Marz’s crackling, burning essence blending perfectly with white-hot, smoldering dragonfire. Tristan moaned, pulling Marz’s hands up from around his waist to wrap around his chest, pushing his palms flat against his own heart. He could feel them coming, in more ways than one, the power building and building until he didn’t think he could hold it back anymore—and then he reached out.

He reached out to Eremis, throwing his thoughts all the way to Bizmar, thousands upon thousands of miles away, seizing upon that mental essence so far separated from his own. The power flooding through him was impossibly enormous, momentarily blinding him. He grabbed at the small spark before him with everything he had, calling out both mentally and aloud.

“Eremis! Eremis, can you hear me?” Suddenly, his vision cleared, and he was standing in a room with Marz behind him, only he wasn’t really there. Everything was faded and gray, everything except…

“Eremis!” he cried out, his voice rising with excitement. He reached out and touched the healer’s shoulder, the feel of warm skin and the cool fabric of the vest very real against his fingers. But then the power exploded around him, and he fell back, all the way back to their bodies in an underground cavern in Neromba, where they lay entangled together in a bed.

Tristan collapsed against Marz, breathing heavily, his eyes shut closed. He couldn’t talk at first, since it felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs at the moment. Marz’s hands were still around his chest, and he clutched at them, willing his heart to stop beating so madly. The energy between them swirled lazily for a minute before fading back into their individual bodies, separating them once again.

He finally turned and stared at Marz, opening his mouth to speak. But he couldn’t think of what to say, how to explain what had just happened. He closed it once before opening it again, a tremor of excitement rushing through him.

“Do you believe what we just did?” he asked, his voice still very breathy and somewhat shaky.

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