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Date Posted: 02:15:09 02/20/02 Wed
Author: Tristan
Subject: My head's spinning, too!
In reply to: Erlic Eastlore 's message, "Raw anger" on 20:53:18 02/19/02 Tue

Tristan was ashamed by Marz’s angered assurances concerning his fidelity, even though he hadn’t really questioned him about it. He believed in Marz’s devotion to him, but simply hated Jeremy, almost with an intensity that frightened even him, merely because the years younger, less experienced mortal boy could communicate his feelings to Marz in a way that Tristan desperately envied.

It didn’t seem fair that someone like Jeremy should be so sure of his natural urges (and maybe even his heart, though Tristan was loath to belief that the kid actually loved Marz), while Tristan struggled on a daily basis to do the same with the person he was both emotionally and physically intimately involved. He felt his own attempts were awkward and fumbling at best, which was a painfully heavy burden hanging around his neck. Oddly enough, he never questioned his abilities when they were alone in bed together, probably because Marz was an exceedingly kind and affectionate lover.

Maybe he’s only satisfied because he really does love me, he mused, the thought strangely more despairing than comforting. When Marz accused him of being cold at times, it stung him rather deeply, because it was the truth, and he was forever agonizing over the truth. All he could do was promise himself to get better, to grow, to step outside his comfort zone as one of his own kind from this world had once advised. Despite his low spirits, he somehow still managed to stick his tongue out at his lover’s rapidly retreating form, though.

I think if we weren’t in love, we would really start to hate each other, he thought, actually smiling slightly.

The noisy sounds of someone sniffling brought his attention back to Saras. Absolute horror consumed him when he stared at the genie, his eyes widening to see the tears running down his cheeks. Damn it, stop crying already! he wanted to yell, but he kept his mouth shut, since yelling never really did seem to accomplish much in the past. He shifted on the floor, feeling extremely uncomfortable, since he wasn’t the type to offer sympathy and understanding to someone he wasn’t exceptionally close to.

“I’m so, so sorry!” Saras finally blurted out, before going on even faster, running his words together so much that poor, befuddled Tristan could only frown at him in confusion. He wished Marz hadn’t left him alone with the genie, since he had no idea how to handle him in this type of situation. (Why had he left him alone, anyway? Stop, he ordered himself. Don’t read so much into it. You’re being a jerk again. Stupid, stupid dragon.)

“I was wrong,” Saras continued, at a pace that Tristan was finally able to keep up with. “Marz is for you, like a Master… I’m sorry I didn’t understand how it was. I just wanted Jeremy to be happy, like you and Marz make each other happy.” The little creature bowed his head and added that he didn’t always understand humans and their emotions, and that his goal (get this) was to keep everyone happy. Really, Tristan never realized genies were such messed up little things like this. No wonder Saras was confused!

“Marz isn’t my master,” he said in a quick but quiet response, his face turning an unexpected red. Oh, hell! The damned genie was treading on dangerous ground, talking about stuff he shouldn’t be sticking his nose into. “I…I mean, not like that. Not like you and your master,” he stammered, but it was no use trying to explain.

He cleared his throat, rushing to change the topic. “Look, you don’t have to understand humans to get along with them,” he continued. “I’m not human, either, you know. If you stop and think about it, they really aren’t that much different than we are. They cry, you cry. They get angry, I get angry. Sure, there are big, fundamental differences among us all, but there’s still enough of the other stuff for us to get on together without trying too hard.” He sighed, thinking of both Marz and Eremis. “Even to form close relationships with one another.”

He shook his head, annoyed at letting his mouth run so much. And for what? To comfort someone who had tried to help Jeremy steal Marz away from him? Oh, geez. First off, that made him feel like a complete git for even thinking something so ridiculously cheesy, and secondly, it had after all been nothing but a big misunderstanding, anyway.

The genie was still sniffing every now and then, and Tristan was about to lose it and just tell him to stick a sock up his nose or something, when a strange feeling came over him. Maybe it was because he and Marz shared the same wild breed of magic, even though his was usually kept tightly locked away and out of reach. Maybe it was because he had never become so closely attached to someone, losing himself mentally and physically to another living creature the way he had now done to Marz.

Whatever the reason, he suddenly felt a great, furious outpouring of magic, mixed in with an inexorably strong surge of rage and simultaneous grief. He stopped breathing for a second, his heart hammering out of rhythm as the familiar feelings washed over and away from him.

“Marz,” he whispered, when he was able to move again. “What the hell’s happening? Marz!” He completely forgot about Saras, leaping agilely to his feet and racing back down the hallway toward the kitchen, where he encountered Argus and an exceedingly depressed looking Ravin.

:”Where is he?” he asked, and the thief replied, with great difficulty, that he was outside with Erlic and Corum. Tristan hurried down the stairs without even thanking him, not because he was being purposefully rude, but because he couldn't stop imagining what on earth had made Marz cry out like that.

“Where is he?” he asked again, flying out of the main tower entrance and seizing upon Corum, grabbing him frantically by the collar and holding him with his dark, worried gaze. “Where did he go? What happened to him? Damn it, I have to find him! I have to find him, do you understand me?”

He didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, not really. He knew Marz had said he was so cold when he needed him to be warm, and now he knew—he knew—that Marz needed him, and he wasn’t there. He released Corum, staring vaguely out into the night, strangely enough pressing his sword hand against his heart instead of on his weapon. If Marz didn’t show soon, Tristan was going to take off into the city and find him. And woe to the foolish creature who tried to prevent him from doing so!

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