Students and Teachers Ch 1: The Last Light
Summary: At night he lies in his narrow bed, Rolan make himself as comfortable as he can, and sends himself into a light trance to escape the pain. He blots out the sad little room and his progressively more terrifying circumstances with memories of the one good thing since Elturel: Gale, of Waterdeep.
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Rolan finds himself with much more time on his hands during his apprenticeship than he had expected. At first, the busywork and meaningless chores made sense to him; he had never had a job in his life where he did not have to first prove his willingness to work and his stubbornness when presented with hard or meaningless tasks. In this, Lorroakan was like any other master, and Rolan did his best to fulfill his wishes with alacrity and politeness. But as the days wore on and his time of study did not materialize, Rolan began to worry.
He made the mistake of asking one night about expectations. Lorroakan reminded him in no uncertain terms that his was the role of the servant, the ignorant. The quizzes began the next evening, and Rolan began to learn that magical education was nothing like he expected it to be. He strove to survive this trial and he turned his mind to other things, to times and places and promises where he still felt hope.
At night he lies in his narrow bed, thin pillow carefully curved to avoid putting too much pressure on his most recent bruises. His horns ache. The last two fingers on his left hand tingle. He hopes that they will heal on their own; there is no coin f or a spell or a physician. Rolan make himself as comfortable as he can, and sends himself into a light trance to escape the pain. He blots out the sad little room and his progressively more terrifying circumstances with memories of the one good thing since Elturel: Gale, of Waterdeep.
He remembers the Last Light Inn, the night following the death of Ketheric Thorm, chosen of Myrkul. He didn't know until after how close he came to losing Gale forever that day-- he had no understanding of the orb or its epic meaning-- Gale had remained secretive and ashamed of this great folly then. But when Gale's party arrived at the inn, bloodied and covered in ash and victory, the elves had moved off-- always together, their triad forming even then-- leaving Gale standing there before him where he sat at the bar. Cal and Lia were already off to the room packing for the great push towards Baldur's Gate at dawn, but for some reason he had felt compelled to wait there for just that one more hour.
He stares across the bar at the slightly battered Wizard and feels the hint of a smile playing about his lips.Gale was visibly tired and bedraggled, his hair falling limply in his face and his eyes circled with deep purple, bruised form using almost too much magic. His eyes though, burned with a surprising intensity as he peered up into Rolan's own.
"We made it through that awful place. We did it. We killed one of the chosen tonight. And we lived. I-- Well. My magic is stable for the first time in so long Rolan. It's mine. And I'm, somehow, unexpectedly alive." The Wizard of Waterdeep fell away with the smoothing of the lines of worry on his brow and suddenly before him was just Gale. Rolan found himself mesmerized by a thousand little details. The slight curl of Gale's hair as it fell against his cheek. The way his lips curved as he smiled, the soft hollow of his throat, somehow still a pristine olive despite his filthy battle worn state. Rolan let his eyes roam over the man, taking him in and letting himself for a moment wonder. He raised his eyes to Gale's again and let the smile bloom across his own features.
"Have a drink with me? In celebration. Your victory, my journey beginning at last."
"Oh, I'm so--" Gale motioned to his robes and brushed shaking fingers against them. Rolan set his goblet down and moved his hands in precise motions. The wave of prestidigitation moved over Gale like wind, ruffling his hems and tossing his hair.
"A bit vigorous but surely quite effective. Thank you Rolan. I would love to share a drink with you." Gale slides onto the stool next to him and Rolan pours, taking a brief moment to enjoy the deep red of the Arabellan Dry as it filled the goblets neatly. He couldn't quite remember why he had been so disdainful of this man back in the grove ( he had been disdainful of everything then-- even the air, the sunlight, the grounds beneath him. The place was insufferable.) Now all he wanted to do was talk to him.
Well in truth that is not all he wanted to do. He wanted to know what the Wizard felt like under his hands while he slowly unwrapped the shielding layers of robes. He wanted to know the flavors of him, taste the eloquent words directly from his mouth as he licked the last drops of wine from his full bottom lip. But Gale was still talking and he was drifting again.
"And it was a fine display of magical prowess, don't you think?" Rolan nods and sips his wine, hoping that his neutral half smile was appropriate to the question. It must have been because Gale's smile widened and he launched back in again, linking his journey to regain his magic after the worm back to the explorations and stumbling of his youth. Rolan did his best to pay attention but he found himself lost again in the study of Gale's mouth. He couldn't tolerate this small talk for even another minute.
"Come for a walk with me." Gale blinked at the interruption, his mouth hanging open mid sentence in surprise. Rolan rallied and pushed on. " You and your friends brought the moon back. We might as well enjoy it together." They both pause for a minute, considering, before Gale stands, sets his empty cup down on the bar and turns, motioning for Rolan to precede him out of the back door of the inn. Rolan feels his tail tip start to twitch, sliding against the the hem of his robes as he moves to follow Gale. He keeps his eyes on the line of Gale's shoulders as he navigates the gaggle of half drunk gnomes and moves to the back door and out onto the docks.
The quiet of the night surrounds them immediately, the soft waves of the lake an unbroken rhythmic heartbeat against the pier. Rolan falls into step with Gale as they move down towards the lake shore path and away from the last of the lights. Somewhere a Harper sings an old ballad, the words lost to the distance and only the soft nostalgic melody carrying to echo out over the water. As they move down the shadowed path, Rolan is distracted from his focus on Gale by the feeling of peace that blankets the night. Such a change from only a few days ago when he had torn off into the wilderness in his desperate race to reach his siblings before they were truly lost. He breathes deeply, feeling something inside him settle for the first time since this awful journey began.
The lake spreads out in front of them, the shore silver in the glow of the full moon now free of clouds and curse alike. Gale is silvered too in the moonlight, his hair a crowning halo, his eyes dark pools and his lips still full, slightly parted now as they pause by the shore, words forgotten. Rolan moves before his brain can catch up taking a step into Gale's space, bringing those lips a hairsbreadth away, so close that he can feel the puff of surprised breath, and then Gale is there, surging up into him, lips hot and perfect against his, hands squeezing his waist and pulling their bodies flush.
Rolan slides his fingers into Gales hair, tangling the silvered strands around his fingers as he angles their heads,tilting them to take the kiss deeper, brushes his tongue in question only to be answered with a soft groan and an opening, the heady dance of tongue against tongue. Gods he tastes like magic. Gale feels like the tingling air before his namesake storm, the hits of petrichor and ozone that still cling to him from the battle, the sweet soft rosewater scent of the weave, and something dark, a hint of bitterness beneath. Rolan could get lost in the flavor of him forever.
Sometime later when they come up for air, Rolan can't stop smiling
"Will you write to me of your apprenticeship?" Gale's voice was soft, tentative. Rolan kept his eyes on the glimmering lake even as his hart took off racing again.
"You wish to hear about my novice floundering? Better, when your party makes it to the city to roust this cult from its power, come and see me at Sorcerers Sundries. I'll wow you with my magical prowess over dinner. If you like." He felt his tail tip jump from side to side as the question hung in the dark between them for a moment.
Gale's smile softened his words. "Oh I would like that. Very much."
Tired and aching in his narrow cot in the room over Sundries, Rolan smiles. He drifts to sleep with a hint of sweetness on his lips and the faintest flicker of hope in his heart.
