Fan Fiction ❯ Akin to a Rose ❯ Chapter 1

Author's Notes: This fic features two of my characters from a now-defunct RPG. Their background has been changed enough that it's no longer set within the game, though of course the setting resembles it slightly. All directly mentioned characters are also mine.

It was love that brought them together for the first time. True love, the kind that gives birth to promises of forever. Although it wasn't love for each other.

"And I finally had to admit it. I'm in love with Aidian," Raidien sighed, resting his chin on his hand and looking mournfully at the woman across from him. "But I ruined my chances with him before, and now that he has another lover... it's impossible." He shook his head sadly, dark red hair swinging above his shoulders with the motion. Enchanting grey-green eyes peered at the Master Mage sitting at the bench opposite. "I tried to win him back, but it just didn't work."

"Of course not. I've seen him and his young man. That's a true love-bond if I've ever seen it," Arla Dreamweaver said firmly, with the knowledge of one who has felt that kind of love herself. Pain glinted in her icy blue eyes as she continued. "I recognize it - they act the way Kellan and I did, once. You'll never get him back, Raidien. You have to learn to accept that he's gone and move on. It's not easy, but it has to be done, unless you want to live the rest of your life pining after something you can't have." That, too, was clearly said from experience.

The handsome elf gave her an apologetic look. He hadn't meant to remind her of her own loss. Master Arla was not beautiful even by the standards of her human kin - plain mousy hair, a stubborn jaw and beak-like nose, and a limp caused by a twisted leg united to make her seem like an awkward flightless goose next to Raidien's swan-like elegance. Normally, such an unattractive woman would hardly earn his attention, much less his concern. But the force of the Water Mage's personality was enough to overwhelm even the self-centered, narcissistic elf, and it shamed him to realize that his thoughtless questions had been painful enough to break through her cold exterior.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reminded you of your loss," he said quietly, beginning to rise. The woman reached out suddenly, motioning him back down.

"No, don't go. You're an ass, Raidien, but never intentionally," she said firmly. Her tone - that stern one used by teachers throughout the world - made it clear she expected to be obeyed, and he had been a student for long enough, and recently enough, that he automatically obeyed. "Actually, I thought that... perhaps... we could talk about them. Share the pain, so to speak." She ducked her head, and he was astonished to realize that she was actually embarrassed to be asking him this. "I think it would help both of us."

"Of course, my dear lady," Raidien said gravely, nodding. It did sound like a good idea, really - it might help to have somebody just listen to him, somebody who hadn't already heard Aidian's side of the story and assumed him to be the villain. And it would only be fair to lend her his own ear. In fact, it sounded to him like she needed that ear as much as he did. He wondered how long she had been waiting for someone to talk to about this - he knew that her pride must have kept her from proposing it as anything other than an exchange. "That sounds quite appealing, honestly." He paused. "Would you like to begin?"

Arla hesitated, then nodded. "If you don't mind. You've never met Kellan, but he looked much like our son Kelar...."

They talked through the day, and long into the night, pausing only to eat dinner and send Arla's young son off to his bed. Slowly, as the conversation progressed, they both dropped the polite masks, speaking frankly; the discussion was painful, but strangely healing, and they retired to their beds in tears. When they arose near dawn and sought each other out, still quietly weeping, it was comfort and naught else that they sought in each other's arms.

"Stay," Arla murmured, eyes fluttering open as Raidien slowly eased himself off the bench they'd shared.

"I have to go," the elf whispered, reaching down to gently brush a strand of damp hair away from her face. "But I'll be back. I promise."

"Where?"

"They need Air Mages at the front. I've already been recruited; I'll be out there for two years. It's not much time."

The corners of her mouth curled up in amusement. "For an elf." She paused. "Take Twilight. You'll need a good horse; she's no use to me with this leg, and Kelar's not old enough to ride her yet."

Raidien couldn't help being touched at the gift; the blue roan mare had been her late husband's horse, and the mere fact that she'd made the offer said something. "Thank you," he said simply. "For everything." Then he turned, leaving the Water Mage's hall without a backward glance.

"Head of Spell Research at the Collegia?" a familiar baritone voice drawled. "I'm impressed, my dear lady."

Arla's head snapped up, and she smiled to see Raidien lounging in the doorway, one eyebrow arched and a friendly smile on his face. He looked none the worse for wear despite his sojourn to the front lines; in fact, he'd obviously become even more fit, as the tight black leather he was wearing clearly displayed. He was stunning, and she took a moment to appreciate the view before replying.

"Well, the old one retired, and Esbi knows I've been jockeying for the position for long enough," she replied. "How went the battles? I've been waiting for you."

"Boring," he said with the casual nonchalance only an elf could truly project. "Turning around arrows, sending whirlwinds at enemy formations, all of that. The only real fun I had was when I faced down one of their basilisks. I was promoted to Master for that - so you don't outrank me anymore," he added, giving her a mischievous grin.

"I don't know - all the other department heads treat their fellow Masters like the poor creatures are still Journeymen," Arla teased, giving him a broader smile. "But when have I ever pulled rank on you, anyway? Come in, don't just stand in the doorway," she added, reaching to lift a stack of papers from a chair.

"Allow me," Raidien said smoothly, interposing himself and swiftly moving the papers to her desk. He sat, then extended his hand as if reaching for something; a red rose appeared in his hand. Handing her the illusory flower, he smiled. "I've been practicing that. What do you think?"

Accepting the rose, Arla yelped suddenly. "Ow!" she exclaimed, setting it gingerly on the desk and sucking on her thumb. "Very, very realistic. Can you do them without thorns?"

"But my dear lady, the thorns are part of the enchantment of a rose!" he protested, placing a hand against his heart. On anyone else, the gesture would have looked overdramatic; for the flamboyant elf, it suited him. "What is beauty without some danger to contrast it?"

"Air Mages. Think you're all artists," Arla grumbled good-naturedly. She looked up at her clock. "I think I can make an escape without getting caught at this point; would you like to join Kelar and I for dinner?"

"My dear lady, I would be delighted." Raidien bowed elegantly as he rose, extending a hand to help her up.

Dinner was delightful; Arla was startled to realize how much she missed having adult companionship. Part of it, of course, was the fact that it was Raidien providing the companionship; he was an expert at interesting conversation. The cynical part of her mind reminded her that his skill came from decades of wooing young women - and the occasional young man. She firmly told the cynical part of her mind to go stuff itself. She was enjoying herself; who cared where he'd learned to be such good company? Besides, she was immune to the casual aura of charm and sensuality that attracted people to Raidien like flies.

By the time Kelar was in bed, she was starting to wonder if that immunity would really hold up under a concentrated assault; Raidien wasn't exerting any real effort, and she was still having to remind herself to keep her mind on the conversation and not the elf's unconscious grace and charismatic personality. As their discussion shifted to the theoretic application of combined Air and Fire magic to a particularly stubborn variety of dragon Raidien had encountered on the front lines, she was startled at how he'd changed. The Raidien she'd known before would have changed the subject within a few minutes, but he wasn't just participating, he was truly interested in their discussion. His grey-green eyes glowed vibrantly with passionate interest, and despite the fact that his only magical education was practical, he raised some points she hadn't even considered on the subject of magical interactions. She found herself as fascinated by the elf as by the debate. She liked this new Raidien, even if it had taken a war to temper him.

Saying goodnight on the doorstep, Arla caught herself feeling disappointed as he walked off down the street, whistling cheerfully.

It was three weeks before she saw him again. Her heart leapt when he stepped through the door of her office, and she sighed internally at the emotional reaction. She'd found herself thinking of him at the oddest times, pausing halfway through a word to remember how his hair fell around the pointed ears, how his eyes had lit up during their discussion, how he projected grace and charm in a way that seemed to fill the room around him with a warm glow. This was foolish - she was too old for this kind of schoolgirl infatuation. But from the way she felt cheered just seeing him, she could easily diagnose what she'd been feeling as exactly that.

"I'm an idiot, my dear lady," Raidien sighed, slumping into the chair he'd occupied last time. One hand covered his right eye. "An idiot and a fool."

"Shall we add those to your list of faults?" Arla asked dryly, endeavoring not to act any differently than usual. "You're an arrogant bastard, an ass, and now an idiot and a fool."

His rich laughter sent a thrill down her spine. "Yes, you do that. I met a girl, you see-"

"Ah." She nodded, hiding a surge of disappointment. She would not behave like some child with a crush! "That's usually how it starts with you, isn't it?"

He gave her a slightly annoyed, one-eyed look. "No, it wasn't like that. I met her a while ago, while at the front. She's a warrior, and she was part of my guard for the last four months. The most beautiful elf I've ever seen, and considering I'm comparing her to my sisters, that's no idle compliment. We were getting along so well together, and we even-" he stopped and coughed discreetly. Elves had no problem with frankly discussing casual sex, but while it didn't bother Arla, it disturbed enough of the stuffier races that she'd taken the time to drill more conservative manners into her friend. "I was going to ask her if we could form a temporary bond when we got back to the city. Just a few decades, you know. But I kept on getting nervous - you know how I am about commitment - and before I could actually say anything, I discovered she was already in a permanent bond with this human-giant crossbreed!"

He lowered his hand, and Arla gasped. A dark bruise spread from the top of his cheek to his hairline on the left side of his face. She gave him a closer look; he rarely risked his looks for casual liaisons. Now that she paid more attention, she realized that his expression and body language spoke of genuine emotional hurt.

Sometimes, it was easy to think in human terms about his age. But occasionally, it was brought home to her just how much less mature than her the red-haired elf really was. This was one of those times. He looked so young, and so vulnerable.... And even with the bruise, he was stunningly attractive.

"You poor baby." Reaching for her staff, she used it to lever herself out of her seat and limp over to him. "Let's go find an Earth Mage to heal that for you, shall we? And then you're coming home with me."

For Raidien, that night was simply sympathy for his physical wounds, and minor therapy for his emotional ones. For Arla, it was a bit more. And when it was over, she couldn't resist.

"Stay? It's not like I don't have a lot of room around here."

"Thank you, my dear lady." One grey-green eye opened to meet hers. "I think I will."

It didn't last, of course; he was off again within a year, chasing some pretty young healer who'd caught his eye. Arla was not surprised by the elf's behavior. She was, however, a bit startled to realize how much her heart ached to have him gone. It was only barely salved by his last words to her.

"I'll be back. I promise."

"What are you doing here, you bloody-haired rascal?" The husky alto was familiar, but it wasn't until Raidien looked up that he was able to place it. It had only been twelve years, but Arla had changed quite a lot. It was hard for him to remember, sometimes, that she was human and not elven.

Smiling, he stood and turned to embrace her. "I've come to visit you, of course, my dear lady. I've fulfilled my duties to my clan; they have two younglings to raise now, and they don't need me anymore. I thought I'd come to see my oldest and dearest friend." Stepping back, he examined her carefully, a bit dismayed at how visibly she'd aged. Why, she wasn't even fifty years old yet, and already there was grey in her brown hair and a few lines creasing her face!

"Mama, who's he?" The voice was soft and piping, and Raidien looked down, unaccountably flinching at the word "mama". He'd seen Kelar with a troop of soldiers only a few months ago; he hadn't mentioned that Arla had re-married.

A small, red-haired girl peered out from behind the folds of Arla's blue robes, ice-blue eyes rising to meet his. He blinked, startled, as he registered the slightly tilted eyes and the pointed ears, then looked back up at Arla. Unable to speak, he mouthed a single word at her. Mine?

The woman nodded. "Yes, Raidien. This is Arlien. Arlien, this is your father," she said calmly, lifting the girl in her arms. Amusement glinted in her eyes.

"Pleased to meet you, Arlien," Raidien said, finally summoning up a delighted smile. "I didn't realize I had a daughter!" He shot Arla a quick glare before pasting the sunny expression back on his face.

"Mama says y're nice, but elves aren't good daddies," Arlien explained, wearing the serious, solemn expression he'd so often seen on her mother's face. "So she din't tell ya."

Raidien couldn't help an internalized sigh of relief. Looking up, he met Arla's eyes, and she gave him a gentle nod and an understanding smile.

"Well, we're not good daddies, but we're good at treating our girls right," he told the child with a broad wink. Reaching out to the empty air, he produced two red roses with a dramatic flourish, and handed them to Arla, who took them gingerly. "Would you and your Mama like to come to dinner with me?"

"She hasn't caused you any trouble with the Collegia, has she?" Raidien murmured anxiously, casting a glance at the half-elven girl asleep on his lap. "I can't believe I left you like that, and didn't even send word to tell you where I'd gone! If I'd known-"

"It's fine," Arla reassured him, with another of those odd gentle smiles. "It was nice having the company around, actually, especially once Kelar left to join the army. And she reminded me of you."

Now why did those words make his heart clench, just a little? To keep her from noticing, he quickly shot off a teasing question. "So, you missed me?" he asked, with a casual grin.

"Why would I miss an arrogant ass like you?" Arla teased back, and returned the grin, which slowly melted into another of those decidedly odd smiles. "Of course I did, Raidien. I- you're one of my best friends. I've been waiting for you."

The last sentence seemed oddly familiar, but before he could figure out why, she'd hauled herself up with the aid of her staff. "Come on; help me get Arlien home." Responding to the commanding tone, he stood, cradling the sleeping girl in his arms.

Raidien hesitated on the doorstep, his eyes caught by Arla's pale blue gaze. Twelve years ago, he would have simply assumed he could stay in the Mage's hall, but after the way he'd abandoned her with the burden of a child, he couldn't help but question his welcome. She might say she forgave him, but from what he'd seen of humans, children always changed things.

As usual when he was being indecisive, Arla made up his mind for him. One hand reached out to gently touch his cheek. "Stay," she breathed. And he couldn't say no.

That night, in her arms, he rediscovered the woman who had been his friend for so long, and his lover for such a small part of that time. In the heat of the moment, he made an impulsive gesture that he knew he'd later regret. But something within him urged him to take the dangerous, uncharacteristic step.

"Marry me?"

It was stupid. It was un-elven. It wouldn't, couldn't last. And Arla reminded him of that with all the gentleness she possessed.

"No. I've lost one husband, Raidien and that was hard enough. It wouldn't be fair to you if you let yourself be tied down by a human custom, and it wouldn't be fair to me if you went chasing off after someone else after a ritual with that kind of significance. It's better for things to remain as they are."

She was right; shortly after her fiftieth nameday, he left her again. It was the way of elves. Still, he allowed himself one indulgence.

"I'll be back. I promise."

The rich voice was the same; the song it sang was old, but familiar. Slowly, carefully, Arla raised herself from the bench beside the fountain, where she'd been reading and soaking up the sun. She shaded her eyes, looking around; despite her failing eyesight, she was able to pick out the distinctive dark red hair. "Raidien!"

"Hello, my dear lady." As appalled as he must be by her appearance, the elf smiled at her and hugged her tightly before placing a feathery kiss on her wrinkled cheek. "You've aged well." He extended an illusory red rose to her with a flourish, and she smiled as she carefully took it from his hand.

"That's pure flattery, and you know it," Arla scolded happily. "I'm nearly eighty; I must be a horrible sight. I know how you elves feel how about old age. Positively obscene, how young you still look. Help me back to the hall?"

He smiled again and extended his elbow in courtly gesture, helping her limp slowly towards her home. "Did you miss me, my dear lady?"

"I've been waiting for you." She gave him a gentle smile, then winced as she moved a bit too quickly for her arthritic joints. "Slow down, Raidien, my old bones aren't up to jogging around!"

"My deepest apologies." His answering smile was troubled; she wasn't surprised. Elves didn't deal well with old age; for them, the signs only showed in the last few years of their millennia-long lives, and they actually had a much shorter dotage than the humans they outlasted in every other respect. Raidien had to be deeply distressed by the way she looked.

"Stay for dinner," she offered. "Arlien is cooking. She's actually quite good at it - she ought to be cooking at the palace."

"Plenty of time for that!" her daughter exclaimed cheerfully, emerging from the kitchen. "I don't want to leave you alone, Mother. I'm glad you're here, Father," she added more quietly, nodding to Raidien. "She's missed you."

"I already told him that - don't stroke his ego any more. It's already ten times too large," Arla teased, and earned a laugh from the elf beside her. "Now, I have a decent conversationalist around for once, so you'd better not scare him off by burning the bread!" Arlien yelped and dashed back into the kitchen.

Dinner was wonderful. Arla and Raidien talked through all four courses, energetically discussing theoretical magic to the point that Arlien was driven from the room. She could no longer clearly see the light in his eyes or the enthusiastic glow that always suffused his face during these talks, but she could hear them in his voice, and it wasn't hard to remember past discussions and imagine what he must look like now. Feelings that she thought she had driven underground the last time he left rose again in her heart. If she had died that night, it would have been worth it.

"Stay," she said hopefully, wrapped in his arms again as they stood by the fountain.

"Are you sure?" he murmured hesitantly, but she could hear the eagerness hidden behind the caution. He'd never wanted her for her looks, after all; she'd gambled upon the hope that he would still be more attracted by their emotional and mental rapport than by her twisted body. Apparently, she'd been right.

"I'm old, not dead," she informed him bluntly, smiling at his stifled chuckle. "I don't have that long left, and I'd like to have some fun one more time before I go."

"Very well, then. One more time, my dearest lady." He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to a room and a bed that they both knew well.

He was exquisitely careful, more gentle with her than he'd ever been before, as if she would break if he so much as looked at her wrong. It was wonderful, and even more wonderful to fall asleep in his arms when they were done.

She awoke the next morning to feel him slipping carefully out of bed. It didn't surprise her; he couldn't stand being around old age for too long, especially considering their friendship. She knew a lot about how elves worked.

"I'll be back. I promise."

How much of that did he really mean, and how much of it was ritual? She found that at this point, she didn't really care; the promise was enough.

Slowing as he entered the hall, Raidien looked around in dismay. These weren't Arla's benches and bookshelves! Her blue carpeting had been replaced with polished wood, her ocean tapestries removed to reveal the brick walls behind them. Even her windows were different - clear glass instead of blue and rippled. He peered out of one into the courtyard, and was shocked to see the dolphin-shaped fountain gone, replaced by a young tree. Footsteps sounded from behind him, and he turned to see a man standing there, wavy orange-gold hair and green eyes eerily familiar. "Aidian?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "What happened here?"

"Raidien?" The half-dryad stared at him in shock, then shook his head, visibly focusing. "What do you mean? I've been teaching here for the past twenty-six years!" There was still a touch of hostility visible in his eyes, but it was old and faded; even the man watching from a doorway down the hall didn't have the defensive attitude Raidien had seen Aidian's lover display towards him before. It truly had been a long time... for everyone but him.

"So Master Arla.... She's... dead?" he whispered, feeling pain tear through him like a bolt of lightning. "Esbi above.... I have been an ass." Of course she was dead. He'd been gone for nearly forty years. Humans simply didn't live that long. And he'd forgotten that. An ass and a fool, like she'd called him so long ago.

Aidian's expression softened, and he gave Raidien a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Raidien. I know we've had our... issues... but I really am sorry." Clearly he knew something of the off-and-on relationship they'd shared. It had never exactly been a secret.

"For what?" Raidien blurted out, as memories poured into his mind. "If it weren't for you, I would never have had any time with her at all. And I suppose a little is better than none." He pulled Aidian into a quick, rough embrace, then spun around, tearing out of the hall before the startled half-dryad could see his tears.

A little better than none? Hardly! How could he have been such an idiot, leaving her so often? He'd promised her that he'd be back, and he hadn't come. Because he couldn't handle seeing his best friend as an old woman. No... not his friend. His lover. That's what she'd been, hadn't she? Well, maybe she thought otherwise. But now that she was gone - now that he'd lost his last chance to tell her - he finally allowed himself to admit it. Taboo, un-elven, foolish, impossible... loving a human was all of these and more, but he'd done it anyway. Elven law forbid it, and now he understood why. But how could he have convinced his heart to obey the law, especially when he hadn't even realized it himself?

He knew where she'd be buried. Raidien tore down the streets of the capital without a single glance to the left or right; people scrambled to get out of his way, shouting angry profanities that he ignored. Bursting through the gates of the Collegia, he slowed, looking around, then sped up again.

All of the former Deans were buried here, in this tiny cemetery behind the Study of Magic building. Her headstone was the newest, the least worn; he sank to his knees before it, staring at the writing on the polished granite. His vision was blurred for some reason; he reached up to wipe at his eyes, and his hand came away damp with tears. They sprang back into existence as he read the writing on the stone.

They hadn't put in the important things - her gentle little smiles, her clever teasing, her beautiful laughter. But then, they wouldn't have known about all that. She'd only shown them to him, hadn't she?

"Did you miss me?" Raidien whispered, almost expecting to hear the husky, cracking alto answer his question. But she was silent, and he bowed his head. "I missed you."

He started to stand, then paused, his attention caught by the two plants he now realized flanked her headstone. Rosebushes. Red rosebushes. He couldn't believe it. Had she requested them? There could be no other reason. Putting plants on a grave was generally reserved for Earth Mages. And the roses were their private gesture. Had he ever told her that? That only she received his roses? He couldn't remember, but he hoped so.

Bending close to the headstone, he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the cool granite. He couldn't just leave it like this. He had to do something - something to let her know, somehow, that he'd been here. Raidien frowned in thought, then smiled faintly as a thought occurred to him.

When he stood and turned away an hour later, three words decorated the headstone that hadn't been there before. The etching was shallow; carved by the wind themselves, they would be the first to be rubbed away by wind and rain. But it wasn't important that they last, only that they were there.

"I'll be back. I promise." Then he stepped forward, away from the grave.

Arlien wasn't old yet, but she was getting there. Her elven blood had extended her life, but the human half kept her from reaching even a quarter of the lifespan of her father's people. That wasn't her mother's fault, of course. She missed her mother keenly, hence the twice-monthly visits to tend the dead Mage's grave.

The sight that greeted her was not an unfamiliar one. Her father knelt before her mother's headstone, forehead pressed against the cool granite. The grey of his hair was slightly alarming, though. He hadn't been around for nearly a century - she couldn't tell how far along he was in the rapid "crash" of his elven body's aging cycle. Stepping forward, she touched his shoulder hesitantly. "Father?"

He moved limply when she shook him, and she pulled her hand back, startled and a bit afraid. Spinning around, she raced out of the cemetery, seeking out the nearest Earth Mage. She needed a healer.

The man she brought back gave her a sympathetic look and shook his head regretfully. He didn't need to say anything. It wasn't as painful as she'd expected; she'd never been close to her father. And at least he'd died in the place he'd often told her he belonged - by her mother's side.

She firmly insisted that it was only right for him to be buried there. Eventually, in the face of her stubbornness, the Collegia gave in. Even the least sensitive non-Mage at the small funeral had to agree that it simply seemed right.

"Did you miss me?"

"Horribly. I've been waiting for you for ages, you know. Literally."

"I'm sorry I was late."

"You promised you'd be back. I chose to believe you. I'm glad I chose correctly."

"I love you."

"I know. I saw what you did to the gravestone. You're a sentimental fool, Raidien."

"...Arla..."

"What?" A pause. "...oh. I love you. You're an arrogant ass, but I love you anyway."

"Such patience. I'm not worthy, my dear lady."

"I'm glad you've finally realized that." A husky alto chuckle. "Stay?"

"Forever."