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Date Posted: 01:32:35 11/30/01 Fri
Author: Tristan
Subject: There goes THAT conversation
In reply to: Corum, Valhorek, & Erlic 's message, "Common interests" on 20:13:31 11/29/01 Thu

Tristan stayed at a distant height, spiraling around the palace from far above while he waited for Marz’s answer. The peace and solitude he was feeling right now kept him calm, and made him ready to accept and try and understand what he was about to be told. He was alone with Marz right now in a way two people could rarely be, and he reveled in the moment, despite the strange tension which had arisen between them.

He let out a big, mental sigh of relief when Marz said he wasn’t upset. He found it hard to believe, though, that he truly understood exactly why Tristan had been angry at the dinner table. The two of them rarely came to a good, solid understanding about what the other was thinking and feeling, but he decided to take this as a sign that they were…growing. I knew it would be a good idea to get him talking, he thought somewhat smugly. Now we’re finally starting to work things out.

“Well, it's like this,” Marz was saying, and Tristan cocked his ears back to make sure he caught every word. Although the wind was blowing hard at this height, a little desert breeze was no match for keen dragon hearing. “Sometimes when we're together,” Marz continued, “I feel like I'm back with Sistino…”

The pleasant, halfway hopeful feeling Tristan had been experiencing abruptly dropped out from under him, to be replaced with a strange, souring sense of horror. Sistino?

“…and then I get this almost uncontrollable urge to run away from you like I ran away from him so I won't have to deal with…”

His stomach lurched, causing his wings to falter a bit, but he quickly recovered. Hearing that Marz sometimes wanted to run away from him cut very deeply, hurting him in a way he hadn’t thought possible. Frantically, he searched through all his recent memories, wondering vainly what awful things he must do or say to Marz to make him feel like that.

“So I won't have to deal with…the insanity of…of trying my raking best to please you while knowing that…I'll never succeed.”

Not surprisingly, the supposed revelation brought only confusion for him. What did Marz mean by saying he couldn’t please him? In all honesty, Tristan would tell anyone who asked that Marz was the only good thing going on in his life right now. He was wracked with homesickness, plagued with thoughts of being unworthy, and felt constantly guilty over how he treated the two people he loved most back at home. With Marz, he was almost certain he was finally doing something right, that he was learning to love and be loved, and that was what made all the difference, right? It should be enough that we love one another, he was aware of distantly thinking, But…it’s not, is it?

When Marz mentioned teasing Corum, it made him glance down at the courtyard below, only to see that most of the rocs had already taken to the air. Tristan ceased his spiraling and followed them, although he still kept far above their companions, so that they could remain in relative peace.

Had he been in human form, he would have smiled to hear how anxious Marz was to change the subject. Nearly three hundred years of facing bitter arguments and abrupt departures had made Tristan realize that sometimes, you just needed to talk about stuff. Pushing issues aside never solved any problems---and right now, they had one hell of an issue on their hands. Again his stomach lurched at the mere thought of being compared to the dreaded Sistino, and suddenly all he wanted to do was weep. How could he have gone so terribly wrong with this? He wished Marz would clarify what it was that made him resemble his old stepfather, but at the same time, he dreaded to hear the horrifying similarities.

How can I fix myself if I don’t know what’s broken? he thought sadly, feeling completely and utterly confused. Why hadn’t Marz told him he was so unhappy?

“But you please me very much,” he said humbly, finally able to find words to speak. He still wasn’t quite sure how to respond to what had been said.

“You succeed every day in pleasing me,” he went on, trying vainly as always to put his thoughts into words. “Waking up next to you these past few days have been the most wonderful moments of my life. I love…to be next to you, and to touch you and talk with you, even though I don’t always say so aloud.” He sighed. “I know I’m hard to get close to, and that’s probably why you hate me sometimes,” he added, taking a stab at the meaning behind what Marz had been muttering on the ground.

“I worry a lot that you’ll get tired of being with someone like me, so I get nervous if you so much as look at another person. And I know I sure don’t have much to offer in bed, either, especially compared to someone like you, so that’s no incentive.” He growled, a low rumbling sound in his chest, though it was mostly in self frustration. “You probably think of all the other people you’ve been with sometimes. How they aren’t afraid to touch you. You probably think of that ex-girlfriend of yours and wish that the person you loved now could be like that. That’s all love is, anyway. An accident. I don’t see how someone as stupid and dull as me could have ever attracted someone like you.”

He knew all that was true, he just knew, deep inside of him, as if it were instinctual. That’s why Marz couldn’t stand him sometimes, the way he couldn’t stand Sistino when he was a child. Although he had loved his stepfather and now loved Tristan, he was disgusted by both feelings, and sought with all his might to escape them, if possible.

He wanted to say more on the matter, (although what he could say to counter what he’d just put forward was beyond him), but a commotion below them caught his attention. His large, whirling eyes widened when he saw that the rocs carrying their companions were being attacked by some giant black vultures! At this height, of course, he and Marz were safe, and he briefly considered staying where they were, for his friend’s safety alone. Seeing one of the rocs falter violently in the air as it was attacked, however, made his mind up for him.

“Watch out!” he warned to Marz, before swiftly furling his wings and taking a steep drop out of the sky toward the battle. The loud, harsh cries of the avian attackers were now easily audible, as were the shouts of pain and triumph from the defenders. With another word of caution to his rider, Tristan snapped his wings open, coming to an abrupt halt in the air, right behind one of the vultures. Ever a silent hunter, he gave no roar of warning as he opened his mouth and poured forth a wave of dragon-fire, enveloping the surprised vulture in hot, red flames. As the creature fell from the sky, another swooped down from above, and Tristan hadn’t enough time to twist around and redirect his flame. But instead of preparing himself for battle, he turned and fled, still conscious of Marz riding on his back.

He did his best to dodge the vultures, darting here and there to drench a vulture attacking their friends with deadly fire before twisting away again. Being in battle called for short, abrupt stops and violent turns, and it was insanely difficult trying to remain upright, so that Marz wouldn’t go tumbling off his shoulders. He had just finished flaming one of the monsters attacking the lone Tia’s roc when he felt a looming presence off to his left. Before he could beat a hasty retreat, the second giant vulture swooped in for the attack. Rather than turn around upside down to meet the enemy’s claws with his own (which would have surely tossed Marz off), Tristan gritted his teeth and snarled as he took the blow, a red haze forming over his eyes at the talons sunk into his side.

Finally, he roared, and managed to turn his head, where he then bit into the creature’s featherless neck, breaking it with one crunch of his jaws. But the abrupt motion brought a frightening lack of weight behind his shoulders, and with gut-wrenching horror he realized he was riderless!

Quickly, he bent his wings flat against him, ignoring the pain in his side, and nose-dived like an upside down arrow toward the ground. Marz was falling only a few feet below him, but Tristan’s streamlined body cut through the air like a knife, and he made a grab with his claws for the shoulders of his friend. He missed the first time, but succeeded the second, praying that he hadn’t injured him with his talons.

Gradually, he reopened his wings, still heading toward the earth, his speed greatly slackened. Marz hung below him in his paws, and he wanted greatly to cradle him against his chest to keep him safe, but the pain in his side wouldn’t let him. A few minutes later, he landed as lightly as he could, first releasing Marz before crouching down beside him. With a groan, he shifted back into human shape, putting one hand up under his shirt without thinking. He growled when it came away bloodied, but knew the injury wasn’t as bad as it look. He could still fly, anyway.

“Are you all right?” he asked, hurrying towards his lover and feeling him all over with anxious fingers. He was mortified that he had very nearly killed him, and hoped to all the gods that he hadn’t caused him injury as well. He glanced quickly at the sky, just in case any vultures decided to follow them down. Within seconds, he could transform again and carry Marz to safety, or even if time did not allow that much, to at least defend him as best he could.

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