Unlikely Romance

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Chapter Two

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The days began much the same, only as she was working, not until just about after what would
have been the supper hour. The sun was still in the sky although casting long shadows, and
Raistlin was half drowsing in his chair. A knock sounded at the door, and then she walked in.
Raistlin sat straight up and sighed, but with just enough sharpness to get his point across, “Tika,
please... wait until I say its all right to come in before just walking in...”

“Sorry!” she said then set down the basket on the table. “I thought you’d be hungry, so I brought
the special from the Inn...”

In truth, he was, and he helped her this time. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said.
“I’d call us by far even. In fact, I’m actually beginning to owe you.”

Tika, who was beginning to become rather attached to the acerbic apprentice mage, smiled, “Oh,
don’t worry about it. I like doing this for you– and you don’t owe me anything. You need a
woman around your house...”

At this, he stopped her by grasping her wrist, “No... I don’t. Listen... I can see what’s happening
here.”

“Can you?” her green eyes opened wide and it was at this point he noticed that she was wearing
the same pale yellow low-cut dress as she had been when he first met her, only now it was clean
and repaired.

He also noticed how the yellow made her skin look warm and brought out her copper-gold
highlights in her hair, and how the green ivy brought out the green of her eyes. It was very...
very... fetching on her. Raistlin gently moved her away from him, “Yes, I can. And it can’t
happen. You don’t want me.”

The look in her eyes grew confused, even as they shone in disappointment. “Oh...”

Raistlin sat down at the table, “Tika... you’re a lovely young woman, and you deserve someone
that will make you happy. I can’t make you happy. Yes... we could have the summer, but come
this fall I would go away, begin again in the fall at the mage school. Someday I may take the
Test of High Sorcery, and some just don’t come back from that, and if they do they are never,
ever, the same. I could not force you to wait on me, wait on that, only to have to mourn me or
look after me if I pass the Test but not... well...”

There was something else in her eyes, as she moved closer and hugged him tightly, but not
desperately. Moving aside his auburn hair and just breathing on his ear... “I’m willing to take the
summer... and what I can get... You are the most sensitive, gentlemanly, young man in town,
Raistlin Majere. And I want you– and to make you happy.”

His breath caught and he turned to face her, her lips meeting his in a tender kiss. They broke it
off as he said, “I can give you a summer...”

* * *

Weeks passed, late spring turned into summer and the trees were full and green. Torrential
creeks calmed, and the weather warmed.

With the warming weather came the plague, and it took many of Solace’s residents in the icy grip
of death. Raistlin and Meggin worked tirelessly to aid those who caught it, perhaps even to save
them if by some miracle. Those they could not they eased their passing.

Finally, death eased its grip on the small village and summer came.

Tika came over far more often, and Raistlin was seen far more often in the Inn of the Last Home.
He was noticed by Otik when the Inn was dead quiet as the lunch crowd had finally left, and
since the threat of plague had only just passed, business was not as it aught to be. One of the
barmaids, a new one, had left him with a pint of ale. It was untouched, of course. Otik chuckled
from his place at the bar and poured a glass of wine into a wine cup before taking it to the young
man. “The girl is new,” said Otik as he sat down, passing the wine to Raistlin.

The look in Raistlin’s pale blue eyes was an eerie look. It was as if Raistlin wasn’t looking at
him, but past him, perhaps into his very soul, then straight past him as if he were not worth the
time of day. Otik fought off the urge to make a sign against ill spirits, cleared his throat, and
tried again. “Tika should be back in a moment... she, uh...”

“She went to the grocer’s,” finished Raistlin, who took a sip of the wine absently. “I know.”

And that was that. Otik knew that Raistlin was a man of few friends and even fewer words. It
was as if he were an old man trapped in a young man’s body. Those eyes had seen too much
sorrow, and too much hate. Raistlin, in Otik’s opinion, was far too young to act so jaded. Otik
took the untouched ale and drank a long pull of it. “It’s too bad you don’t like ale,” he said as he
sat it down respectfully, as if the mug were fine china. “It’s been a good year. It isn’t harsh... the
hops lent it just the right amount of subtlety. Then again, you have to nurture these things. It’s a
fine art.”

Raistlin looked away from the view out the window to gaze at the innkeeper patronizingly, “And
just where are you trying to lead with this, Otik?”

“Straight to the point,” said Otik. “You’re a man with an appreciation for art. You carefully
select things and never indiscriminately waste them. Take your relationship with Tika–”

Raistlin sighed in resignation, knowing where this one-sided conversation was leading. Otik
harumphed at the younger man’s sound of impatience, and said, “You could have had your pick
of any of the young women in town–”

“I hardly think so,” the tone was caustic, but Otik wasn’t sure if Raistlin had aimed it the
innkeeper or himself. “Caramon has that monopolized.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” Otik shrugged when Raistlin awarded him with an uplifted
brow in surprise. “Caramon is an easy catch– if he were a woman there would a far ruder term
that comes to mind– but the girls think you’re tall, dark and handsome... and unattainable. Some
of them take Caramon, close their eyes and while in the throes of passion imagine that he’s...”

“Enough!” Raistlin stood abruptly. “I thank you for your vote of confidence, and I know that it’s
in your ‘job description’, but I’ll thank you kindly not to waste your time on trying to convince
me of this ridiculous theory of yours.”

Raistlin lay a silver piece on the table. The impact of the coin hitting the table left them spinning
on the table and sloshed Otik’s ale. With that the younger man left, the door slamming as he
closed it. Otik sighed and drank what was left of the ale in the mug. “So it is true... you actually
believe that...”

* * *

Raistlin stalked back to his house and slammed close his door and sank down in his chair. Tika
turned around in surprise and ran over to him, “What is it?”

He looked up at her, rage still evident in his eyes, “Why? Why are you still hanging around
here?!”

She blinked in surprise. “Because I like you– why else?”

“Or do you like Caramon and just hope to impress him?” yelled Raistlin. “Go. Just leave me
alone.”

With tears in her eyes, she turned, packed up her things. Just before she left, she asked in a tiny
whisper, “No... I want you...”

And then she left.

Raistlin sank down on his knees, took his head in his hands, and fainted as his strength abruptly
left him.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, but he was vaguely aware of someone lifting him and then
laying him in his bed. A cool cloth was lain on his forehead and a soothing voice said, “Sleep...”

With that he fainted.

* * *

Tika had been to the first junction of the walkways when she realized that she had left her purse
in Raistlin’s home. Running back, she saw that the door was still open. In puzzlement, she
walked into the house and saw Raistlin slumped, half-conscious, on the floor and against the
counter in the kitchen. Seeing the pallor in his face in the bright sunlight, she hugged him close.
A fever burned his small frame and she hissed in concern.

No wonder he acted all strange, she thought. Poor dear... he’s just sick.

She managed to get him to his feet, although he was extremely unsteady. It took all her strength
and patience to get him into his bed. Once she had him there, she stripped his clothes off him
and then covered him with a few blankets. Running back into the kitchen and getting a cool
cloth by soaking it cool water, she lay it on his forehead. He tried to open his eyes, and so she
lay a hand on his, “Just go to sleep, Raistlin. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Thankfully, he listened and fell deeply asleep. With a sigh she wondered what had riled him so.
A knock on the door alerted her to how long she had been gone. She got up from the chair and
into the living area. As she opened the door, she was surprised to find Dezra there. “What are
you doing here?” she asked.

“Otik said I’d find you here,” she said. “But he wanted me to apologize to Raistlin for him...
evidently... as usual... the old man pried into Raistlin’s life and tried to give him some ‘life
lessons’. Didn’t go over well with Raistlin...”

“I’d guess not,” said Tika, although that certainly explained things.

“So... is he here?”

“Yes... but... he isn’t well,” explained Tika. “He has a fever. Listen, could you go to Meggin’s
and get something for him?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” said Dezra. “I’ll be right back.”

When her friend left, Tika went back in where she could hear Raistlin tossing and moaning in his
dreams. Seeing that it was not part of the fever, she quickly went to his side and tried to catch
the flailing limbs with little success. “Raistlin... it’s just a bad dream... shhh... oh... please...
relax...”

Finally, he opened his eyes wide and screamed, pointing to the wall. Then he simply collapsed
into his bed. Dezra came running in at the sound with Meggin in tow. “What happened?” asked
Dezra.

“I don’t know,” said Tika, puzzled herself.

Meggin unstoppered a vial and held it to his lips. Instinct made him drink it. Stroking the
sweaty strands out of his face as he calmed down and fell into a deep, dreamless, sleep, she said,
“It’s nervous exhaustion. He just needs sleep, and plenty of it.”

Tika could see the shadows under his eyes and she smoothed the blankets over his now peaceful
form. “He’ll be all right though?” she asked, although the unasked question was, it wasn’t the
plague, was it?

“Yes,” sighed Meggin. “He simply worked himself into exhaustion, is all. Close those curtains,
Dezra, fool his body into thinking it’s night and he’ll sleep better, longer. And that is, as I said,
all he truly needs. Try and convince him to have a cup of mulled wine each night, Tika. It
should relax him and deepen his sleep. And he needs bed rest for a few days. No strenuous
work, and no studying. That will only tire him more.”

“Yes, Meggin,” said the two girls and then the older woman left.

With a sigh, Tika leaned back into her chair, “How am I supposed to watch him and work in the
inn?”

“Oh, I think ole’ Otik will understand,” said Dezra with a wink, and Tika looked up in surprise.
“What conversation do you honestly think set him off, Tika? Otik was trying to be fatherly, and
he went about all the wrong way. And, well, you know Raistlin...”

“Who else knows?” she asked with a groan.

“Just Otik, for now,” said Dezra. “But if he knows you perfectly know how well he’s likely not
to keep this a secret. Why?”

“Raistlin is a private individual with a sense of honor,” stressed Tika. “It will embarrass him.”

“What about you?”

“Me?” asked Tika. “It’s doesn’t embarrass me at all. He’s handsome, employed, and he likes
me. What more could I want in a husband?”

Dezra’s eyebrows lifted, “Does he know what you want out of this?”

“Yes...” Tika trailed off, and squirmed under Dezra’s gaze. “Okay, okay, maybe not exactly.
But I don’t think he’s against the idea.”

“I’d make sure before I’d make any wedding plans...” suggested Dezra as she closed the curtains
and plunged the room into darkness. “He also doesn’t give me the impression of being easy to
tie down in a marriage. How do you know that’s what he actually wants?”

Tika looked over to where Raistlin lay locked in slumber, but didn’t say anything in answer.