Fan Fiction ❯ Fuer Raistlin ❯ Fuer Raistlin ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Author's Notes: I do not own Raistlin, Sturm, or Dragonlance. I do not own the song 'Fur Elise.' I am making no money from this. Any resemblance to another fanfiction or real life is fully coincidental. This story deals with a rape victim. It is almost pure angst. I took the title from the song by Beethoven "Fur Elise," making it more purely German and putting Raistlin's name in place of Elise's. It's the title because it's what I listened to when I wrote this; it does not really go beyond that.

This story takes place after Rainy Whispers.

Warning: This story features rape (not graphic detail, and it already happened before the story occurs) and shonen-ai. If that's not your cup of sake, go away.

"Raistlin!" Panic. Panic and fear and worry prevading a voice that can barely be heard over the roll and clash of the thunder, over the whipping gail of rain. Lightening briefly illuminates the forest floor in harsh starkness.

"Raistlin!!!"

Nothing. Panic is thundering through his mind, giving him strength he didn't realize he possessed as he runs through the forest, trying to find the weaker young man. Tree branches catch and cut his face, his arms, his legs, but he pays them no mind. Rain lashes and soaks him to the bone, the bitter wind chilling him further.

He hated the rain. He hated the rain because it seemed like every bad thing that could happen to Raistlin happened in the rain. Not that his 'I love you' had been a bad thing, but first he'd had to hurt Raistlin by being in a stupid situation beforehand! Damn it, but why couldn't he find Raistlin?!

He stumbles, reaching the banks of the Crystalmir Lake. The wind was whipping it into furious waves, and the rain made it seem more ghostly and more deadly than its normally peaceful surface. He walks carefully along the bank, his eyes straining to see in the dark, half-blind when the lightening did show up. Taking a deep breath (only to inhale what seemed like half of the thunderstorm), he shouted again.

"Raistlin!!!"

A moan, so soft that it could almost be thought an illusion, cracks painfully over him. He jerks towards it, praying that it wasn't just the wind in the trees, breaks into a run. He stops short, staring at the figure before him, trying to choke down his disgust and anger.

Half-bare in the rain, Raistlin's pale form was bruised and beaten across the entirety of his torso. Blood creeped slowly out of a few scratches and cuts, dripped from his split lip. Dirt was smeared across some of his body, his shoulders mostly, and mud was in his tangled hair. Red welts wrapped around his wrists. He had tried to crawl back into his robes, all torn and ripped by what seemed cruel hands, to little avail. The future mage was curled up into a small ball, shivering from cold or terror could not be told, crying with his arms clutched around himself. Where his hands were, he had managed to dig his short nails in to draw blood.

Sturm knelt down next to Raistlin, gently reaching forward to touch the smaller young man. Raistlin's eyes flew open in panic, and a terrified mewl escaped his lips as he jerked backwards. Trying to quelm the hatred he felt for Raistlin's abusers, Sturm realized that Raistlin's lips were a slight blue from the cold. "Hush, Raistlin," he said soothingly. "It's me, it's Sturm, I'm not going to hurt you." Raistlin continued to shiver and watch him warily through fearful and unrecognizing eyes. He tried to reach out again to touch the smaller man, but Raistlin still tried valiantly to back away.

Creeping forward, Sturm forcibly took Raistlin by his shoulders. The scream that pierced the air cut through Sturm's heart as Raistlin struggled to get out of his grasp. Swallowing his tears, Sturm took Raistlin's chin as gently but firmly as he could in a hand, making the younger man look him in the eyes. "Raistlin, it's Sturm. Please, please, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you! I'm going to help you!"

Slowly, recognition and understanding began to creep across Raistlin's face and into his eyes. "Sturm?" he whispered, eyes still wide. Sturm nodded. Raistlin relaxed some, though he ducked his head and hunched over in such a way that Sturm had to wonder if he was trying to disappear. So softly that Sturm had to learn forward to hear, Raistlin mumbled, "Don't look at me... don't touch me... I'm... I'm...." Raistlin shuddered, sobs ripping through him.

Sturm finally fully realized everything that had happened. His grip tightened on Raistlin, so much that Raistlin let out a sharp cry of pain, and red washed through his vision. How dare they?! How dare they touch and defile and abuse this being? Hatred boiled in his belly, and he wanted nothing more than to take his sword and kill the ones who had done this!

But the whimpers and shivers of the being before him brought him back to the present. Pain was etched across that face, and Sturm instantly loosened his grip. "Paladine, I'm sorry Raistlin! I didn't mean to hurt you!" He wrapped his arms tightly around Raistlin, drawing him closer. After a few minutes of both hesitation and tenseness, Raistlin managed to relax into the comforting arms of his love.

"Can you walk?" Sturm asked Raistlin. The sooner he got the shivering, traumatized future mage out of the storm and inside to a warm bed to rest, the better. "I... I think so," Raistlin whispered. Taking a deep breath, Sturm replied, "Okay. I'm going to help you up. We need to get you back home."

"Don't take me back to Caramon!" Raistlin suddenly cried, struggling to get out of Sturm's grip again. Sturm was stunned, but quickly reacted to it. "Then you'll stay with me!" he snapped, easily lifting the freezing future mage up into his arms.

The lightening cracked again, really illuminating Raistlin for the first time. All of the pretense, all of the shields, all of the usual bitterness was gone, and what was left was an abused and heartbroke boy. Sturm shifted Raistlin's weight, and started back towards Solace as soon as he could find the trail. No cross-country now, not with Raistlin in his arms.

Sturm felt Raistlin clasp his arms around his neck. He tried to contain his own shivers. Raistlin felt like ice, even through his clothes. "You're not allowed to fall asleep now," he whispered gently to the other. Raistlin's drooping eyes blinked open, and he tried to curl up closer to Sturm.

When they at last reached Sturm's home (with Raistlin making sure that Sturm wasn't taking a round-about route to his house), Sturm was glad to creep inside and hear his mother sleeping. She did not really like Raistlin in the least, and now certainly wasn't the time for her to see the future mage.

A small gasp escaped Raistlin's lips as they entered the home. The warmth of it was almost scalding. He saw Sturm glance down at him in concern, and felt shame creep into his being again.

He felt dirty. Dirty and used and like Sturm was the last person on Krynn who should be touching him, nevermind Sturm was the only person on Krynn who could touch him right now. He had been content, out there next to the Crystalmir Lake, to curl up and die so that Sturm would never have to see him like this, had been planning on doing just that. Yet the stupid knight had shown up, shown up too late.

Raistlin still couldn't figure out what he had done to be raped by those women, though he was absolutely certain that it had been his fault. Laughter, racous laughter, and fingers pulling down his robes and grins, oh the grins, and rough kisses on his lips, kisses he didn't want--

Raistlin moaned, trying to bury himself deeper into Sturm, tears falling down his cheeks again. The knight paused half-way into putting him into the bed, then sat down, Raistlin still in his arms and partly in his lap. "Hush, Raistlin. It's over. I'm right here, and right now, I won't let anything happen to you." Raistlin shivered, the cold starting to fade in the warmth of the room. Sturm's fingers were stroking through his tangled hair, gently removing the knots and mud in it. The warmth was soothing, and he could feel the tiredness from before, one buried and stuck deep in his bones, creeping back.

Sturm tenderly moved him into the bed, brushing a hand across Raistlin's cheek to remove the tears. Raistlin opened his eyes, shamed about wanting to keep Sturm with him, but still reaching out a hand to clutch at Sturm's arm, terrified of being alone. Another whimper (why couldn't he stop those things?!) creeped out of his throat. Sturm blinked, then smiled gently at him. "I've got to take my boots off, Raistlin. I'm not going anywhere, promise." Raistlin bit his lip before he nodded and relinquished his hold.

Just as promised, Sturm soon rejoined Raistlin, pulling the blankets up and over both of them. Raistlin knew that he should have at least let Sturm get out of his wet clothes, but he was so tired, so afraid of falling asleep and waking up to not find Sturm. He cuddled up to Sturm, shivering at a sudden cold chill. Sturm drew him tighter, a hand gently running through Raistlin's hair, murmurring words of comfort and half-remembered bedtime tales of his youth.

Slowly, sleep began to web over Raistlin's mind, dragging him lovingly into its bleak depths. Sturm did not stop stroking his hair, and soon he was lost in a world of drifting warmth and Sturm's scent.

Just before he finally lost all awareness, Sturm whispered, "Look, Raistlin... the rain's stopped." The future mage was desperatly glad the knight hadn't said 'bunnies.'