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Date Posted: 17:46:49 04/13/02 Sat
Author: Tristan and Rowan
Subject: Rumble in the...Ruins?
In reply to: Marz 's message, "Let's get ready to rumble" on 10:20:48 04/12/02 Fri

A strange, warm feeling washed over Tristan when Erlic praised him along with Marz. He had expected the man to commend his student on the closing of the first chakra, but Erlic took him off guard when he acknowledged his helpful presence, as well. He stared awkwardly at his hands, feeling momentarily shy all of a sudden. He really wasn’t used to having his accomplishments even noted, let alone kindly praised.

He got over his embarrassment enough to finish listening to what Erlic had to say. For some reason, it didn’t bother him at all to hear Marz’s teacher discussing what they’d done together earlier. All his life, his father had been badgering him about learning how to use his own magic, but the subject had always bored the hell out of Tristan. He was the worst student possible, never finishing his lessons and always getting the spells wrong. Adonis finally gave up on him, leaving him for Odarin to deal with, but not before he’d locked his son up tight, so to speak, so that not one single spark of magic could mistakenly escape.

But this was different. He loved what he and Marz had done! If this were what all magic felt like, he would have definitely chosen the spell book over the sword. He listened very earnestly as Erlic spoke—which was a good thing, since Marz wasn’t paying attention at all, as usual. He was rather crestfallen to learn that they would only get better once Marz closed all the chakras. Tristan found that hard to believe. He was confident that so long as he had the focus and control to direct what they were doing (and he did, he was sure of it), then everything would be fine. Physically and emotionally, Marz might be the more dominant one between them, but spiritually, Tristan was the leader. He couldn’t believe how right it had felt to gather their combined powers together and attempt to bend them to his will like that.

He didn’t understand Erlic’s advice that they try to understand one another better. Did anybody know Marz as well as he did, now? Tristan snorted. He didn’t think so. And he sure as hell knew he’d never gotten as close to anyone as he had to Marz.

Well, whatever the case, it was something to think about—later. Comprehending the full aspect of chakra closing and spiritual love making, exciting as it was, would have to wait. Just as they were getting ready to leave, Erlic announced that he had gotten another call regarding Eremis. Tristan felt himself tense automatically as Marz laid a comforting arm around his shoulders. Sure, enough, the news was bad. Eremis and Kisa were still missing, and now had a bounty on their heads, as well. Tristan closed his eyes and leaned slightly against Marz, trying to harness in his rising fear and anger. He had to promise himself over and over again that Eremis would be found, and that he, Tristan, would personally kill all those who had so much as laid a finger on him during the time that he had been gone.

When Corum announced that he was the winner of the treasure hunt, Tristan was in no mood to argue with him. He had made it back to the campfire before Corum had, and would wager that he’d found more items than he had, too. He was further annoyed when Marz turned and reminded him—sure, it sounded like an order, but Tristan preferred to view it as a reminder—about Argus’ request to get his boots back. He watched his hotshot lover stand up and declare himself leader of the second group again. Normally, Tristan wasn’t bothered by his overly bossy attitude, but he couldn’t help frowning at him at the moment.

Once Marz trooped off back down the tunnel, Tristan stood up, too, and turned to face Argus. He wondered vaguely just what a blewdy filcher was, but decided it probably wasn’t a compliment.

“I’m not a…a filcher,” he said with a slight frown, stumbling a bit over the word. He hoped filcher wasn’t another word for something cool, like dragon, or really awesome fighter. Probably not, though. “Anyway,” he added, shrugging, “Your boots are right over there, along with all the other crap I found for the treasure hunt.”

He pointed to the pile of things Marz had helped him bring to the campfire earlier, under which somewhere were Argus’ boots. He narrowed his eyes at the man, his hands coming to rest on his hips while one finger tapped unconsciously at his swordbelt. “Course, if you still want to beat me for them, you’re welcome to try.”

All right, so he couldn’t take a joke. The guy talked so funny, anyway, it was impossible to tell whether he was being serious or not. Tristan growled under his breath and walked past him, following Erlic and a few of the others as they headed through the tunnels and then finally outside the temple. He moved immediately to stand beside Marz, flashing him a little smile as he did so. For some reason, he wasn’t really annoyed with his take-charge attitude anymore.

“All right, captain,” Tristan said, trying to look serious, “Where to next?”

He watched as the others finished filing out and moved to brush his arm subtly against Marz’s, taking his hand quietly in his own. Now, now, he chastised himself, Don’t be such a dork. You can’t hold hands and fight at the same time, can you?

“No,” he muttered. He turned his head slightly to give Marz a sidelong look, another smile creeping to his face. “Hey,” he added, keeping his voice low, “You know how you always see those really annoying kinds of couples? The ones who are always going at it in public with each other, grossing other people out and stuff?” His smile turned almost wistful, and he felt suddenly like kicking himself. “I guess that’ll never be us, huh.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rowan was still feeling a bit grumpy about what had happened before he’d gone to bed. Normally, he was this go-get-‘em type of guy, winking and charming his way through a crowd while wooing people right and left. Okay, so maybe that was a slight exaggeration. But he sure as hell wasn’t the type to be biting his fingernails over a little thing like this. So Marz was playing hard to get. So what? And Tia suddenly pulled a 360 on him and told him not tonight. Who cared?

Well, he did. He didn’t like feeling like a loser. He wanted to believe that he was capable of luring more than a sixteen-year-old kid into his bed. He needed to believe that. He liked Jeremy, he really did, but there was just something wrong about carrying on what should have been a momentary liaison with a boy that much younger than him. What if he started liking him too much? A kid Jeremy’s age wouldn’t be capable of dealing with that. And Rowan didn’t want to become the laughing stock of the group, either, batting his eyes at some half-witted boy half his age.

So where had he gone wrong? Well, Marz, he guessed, was easy to understand—the commitment factor. And, now that he was thinking clearly, he realized he should be thanking Jeremy for interrupting them earlier. That last thing he wanted to deal with was an angry dragon.

But Tia…what happened there? He thought she’d wanted him! Maybe, he thought, he was simply going about it all wrong. Women didn’t like to move so fast, he knew that much. Maybe she just wasn’t as experienced as she seemed. He didn’t think she was just playing games with him. Surely, she still liked him! Come on—how do you go from shoving a guy forcefully into a pile of clothes and crawling on top of him, to suddenly turning your nose up to him and going to bed alone? Just didn’t make sense.

Okay, new tactics. Good-bye, Rowan the Sex-driven Rogue. Enter—Rowan the gentleman. Hell he knew it was still in him somewhere, deep inside. He fiddled with one of the feathers in his hair, feeling suddenly nervous as he started to approach Tia. They were walking through the temple and heading back outside, the stars from the night sky winking through the open doorways at them.

“Ahh…” he began, subtly moving to walk beside her while staring at everything but her. “So, how did you sleep last night?”

Oh wow. That’s right, Silvertree, stun her with your exceptionally witty repertoire.

He cleared his throat. “Oh yeah,” he continued, finally taking his eyes from his clasped hands before him to stare her directly in the face, “Which group are you going with? I’d like to go with you, if that’s all right.”

He smiled, the expression coming naturally to his face. He had intentioned to simply ask her if she wanted to come with him, but decided that rewording it in this way would definitely play to his favor.

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