Forgotten Realms Unsteady Ground

Disclaimer: The setting belongs to Wizards of the Coast, but of course; the characters are mine.

Warnings: This is a short Shounen-Ai fic that may, if I get good reviews, develop into a whole plot.  If you don't like that sort of thing, screw you.

Summary: I'm not giving away the story-line more than I already have, you mothballs!  You'll have to read and see.  But this isn't your typical Shounen-Ai fic- I wrote it because the normal ones are so cliché.

Rating: PG-13 just in case, though it isn't bad at all.

- - - - -

**Unsteady Ground**

The night sky had been, for months, his only roof.  When he laid down to sleep, but instead raised his eyes to ponder, they had met with the black velvet of the sky.  When he ate, seated around a campfire with his two companions, or clustered silently around uncooked food, the sky stretched out above him, never a roof.

Before this had begun, he'd always had a roof over his head.  He'd been content, quite pleased with his wealth, earned by years of thievery.  He'd thought he lacked nothing, and thought of those fool-hardy adventurers legends and rumors told of as lackwits.

But when adventure had come calling for him, he hadn't been disappointed.  At first he was apprehensive, yes, but he had soon come to love having only the sky above him, never the rafters of an inn or the thatch roof of a peasant house, or even the sturdy roof of his own houses.  He had grown to love the packed dirt of travel worn paths beneath his light-stepping boots, and the feel of open air on his skin.  Even the sudden storms that sped up to harry them, slowing their progress, became enjoyable.

His companions, a dwarven berserker named Klangdin and a human ranger named Triel, had caused him great worry before.  They'd been thrown together haphazardly into a journey to retrieve Moradin's Bane.  They were quite different, and their meeting hadn't been a pleasant one.  He, being a thief, had been hated by both.  Klangdin was a fear-inspiring creature, a legendary dwarven berserker who would do anything for his king and his people.  Triel was a ranger, steadily walking the path of truth and always trying to do right in the world.

But after traveling for them these months because of a shared common interest that they needed each other for, though all with underlying plans of what would happen once they reached their journey's end, the thief had grown to admire them.  He was just a common thief, following the rules of his guild but not truly caring if anyone was harmed.  He cared for himself, and himself alone.  But they were something different entirely.  Klangdin cared more for his own people, his king, and his god than for his own welfare.  And Triel… Triel had a truly good spirit.  He didn't even have to know a person to care for them, if they showed a good spirit.  He was kind, and a brilliant fighter.  He always fought his hardest against a foe who had done evil.

The only reason the dwarf and the ranger had accepted Whisper into their ranks was because he said he knew Racon Gelb's weakness.  Racon Gelb was the one who had stolen Moradin's Bane.  The thief had known Racon, true, but he didn't know the man's weakness; he and Racon Gelb had trained as thieves together and been great friends, but once Whisper's friend had gotten a taste of power, he'd abandoned the thief and everyone else he was trusted by, backstabbing them in the process, to get to the top.  Whisper dearly wanted revenge, but he did not know how he would get it.  He just knew that if he made the dwarf and ranger believe that he knew Racon Gelb's only weakness, he would at least get a chance.

The guilt of his lie had been nonexistent at first.  He'd weaved lies much worse than this before, and they had never bothered him before.  But after months of travel with the berserker and ranger, his burden of guilt had steadily grown heavier.  These were good men, and they didn't deserve the fate of walking blindly into Racon's domain thinking they had an advantage when they did not.  It was as good as walking into a horde of orcs blind-folded and without weapons.

For still more months, he had continued to bear the burden.  These men would kill him if they knew he had lied, and that he was of no use to them.  He was, after all, only a thief.

The heavy burden chafed at him now.  He thought of his companions as friends now, though he knew that they saw him in no such light.  Travel with them was good for his spirit.  He grew ever more ashamed of his old ways.  He had chosen to become a thief.  What had he been thinking?  Thievery was wrong.  The system of laws that his guild instituted were a fakery, he thought bitterly.  He had always held as fast to them as a cleric did to the laws of their deity, but none of the other thieves did.  Now, looking back, he could see that the laws of his guild existed purely to be skirted, so the members of the guild could find crafty ways of getting around them, loopholes, shortcuts.

_How was I so blind? he asked himself bitterly, his eyes locked, as always, on the silken black dome of the heavens._

He tried to sink into the peaceful abyss of sleep, but his mind was too active.  Sleep was far from him, and would not soon travel to his side.  He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair before lurching into a sitting position.  They weren't in an area where making noise would constitute a danger, so he didn't bother using the skill of stealth that had earned him the false-name Whisper.  Then he climbed to his feet, his eyes circling the camp.  The dwarf was asleep in his tangled mass of blanket, grumbling something that sounded like it had to do with large quantities of ale and a few dwarven women.  Whisper hid a smile with one thin hand, though there was no need.  The campfire was no more than a dying pile of embers casting deep shadows over the dwarf and Triel's empty blankets.

Ah, yes.  Triel was gone.  It was early night; he would likely be bathing in the nearby stream.  He had once explained to Klangdin and Whisper that whenever they set up camp near running water, he would cleanse himself according to his deity's standards in the early hours just after sundown.  The thief had bathed earlier when the stopped to make camp, when daylight was still fairly strong.  He wished that Klangdin would choose to wash himself, but the dwarf seemed to like the stench that accompanied his refusal to bathe.

Without thinking, the thief crept along silently in the shielding shadows cast by the underbrush skirting the path to the stream they'd camped by.  He soon reached the water, and the moonlight shone on it, the reflection of its silvery beams lighting the area with a pale glow.

Triel was at the center of the stream.  Whisper knew that it would only come to the tall man's abdomen, but he must have been kneeling, because it came all the way up to his clean shaven chin.  The tips of his short cropped, curly, sand-colored hair were wet after trailing in the water, and his eyes were closed, hiding the silver-gray of his irises.  Whisper hadn't realized that he knew the color of the man's eyes, but he did.  As he watched the ranger, he slowly began realizing many other things, as well.

Triel tipped his head back, thoroughly soaking it in the water, his face expressionless.  He ran his fingers firmly through the hair along his scalp, cleansing it of any travel grime it had collected.  Then he wiped his eyes with the forefinger and thumb of one hand and opened them, straightening.  He slowly rose, water streaming down his bare skin, until he was standing at his full height.  The water droplets remaining on his torso and arms captured the moonlight and gave him a majestic, glistening look.

Whisper's breath caught in his throat.  He fought to look away, fearful that he was defiling a holy ritual of some sort, but he couldn't.  His gaze remained locked on the ranger in his full glory as he waded to shore, the water around him barely rippling.  He was absolutely beautiful.  Muscle covered his frame, perfectly chiseled.  His skin was flawless except for a long, thin scar, obviously given by a well crafted blade, just above his left hip.

The thief's breathing was shallow, and excited waves rippled through his system, tingling as he imagined a weak lightning strike might.  He could not look away as his ranger companion waded out of the water, his eyes sharp and his expression calm, serene.

When Triel reached ankle deep water, Whisper realized that it would not be safe for him to remain here beside the path for the ranger to stumble upon.  After one last wistful glance at his companion, he turned and fled silently back to camp.

He collapsed clumsily into bed, closing his eyes and trying to calm his breathing.  Many minutes passed before the ranger's soft footsteps signaled his return to camp.  A faint flush crept over Whisper's cheeks, but the gray of dark disguised it, and his breath was even by now.  He listened as Triel climbed beneath his blankets and slowly quieted, his breathing falling into the rhythmic pattern of sleep.

It was a long while before Whisper could fall asleep.  Again his mind was a chaotic jumble of thoughts, and sleep seemed far off.  He was afraid, uncertain of everything.

The only thing that he realized he was sure of, before he drifted into the world of sleep, was that he loved Triel.

He had never loved anyone.

- - -

Despite his late night, kept awake by frantic thoughts, Whisper was first to wake the next morning when the birds called there morning tunes.  He opened his eyes slowly and sat up, his eyes wandering around him in a circuit.  His gaze faltered on Triel, peacefully asleep for the moment.  He blushed fiercely and looked away.

After a few moments, he climbed out of bed, taking his leather armor and boots from where he had abandoned them at his side the night before and pulling them on unsteadily.  He calmed himself with a series of deep breaths, and then began rolling up his blankets and shoving them into his pack.

Klangdin woke next.  He groggily opened his eyes, swore loudly, and clamored to his feet.  His noise, in turn, woke Triel.  Both men readied themselves and packed away their own bedthings.  Then the dwarf grabbed his skin of ale and stumbled off to have his customary morning drink before they set off.

Triel settled down on a tree stump to sharpen his dagger while he waited for the dwarf to return.  Both humans had long since learned not to interrupt Klangdin's morning drink, or to try to keep him from having it.  Doing so resulted in a day-long headache that grew worse as the day wore on.

Whisper fiddled with the straps on his armor for a moment, and finally approached the ranger and leaned on a tree near the stump he perched on.  He fought with himself mentally for a moment, but eventually knew that he had to do this.  Before he'd had a hard enough battle with his conscious, but now, after last night… He couldn't allow Triel to walk into Racon Gelb's fortress thinking that he could defeat the thief, thinking that Whisper knew how to kill the traitor.

_Funny how much can change in such a short time, Whisper thought bitterly.  __Not as if I'll be missing much after they kill me._

Triel noticed the thief's unblinking stare and looked up at him expectantly, pausing in his blade-sharpening.  He saw his companion's clouded expression and put the dagger aside.  "What is it?" he asked, his voice deep and rich.

Whisper's breath hitched in his throat out of fear and apprehension.  He hesitated, but knew that he had to tell the ranger the truth.  He brushed a stray strand of hair out of his eyes and looked down at Triel, eyes forlorn.  "I lied," he murmured.

By the look on the ranger's face, Whisper knew that he wasn't surprised.  "You're a thief.  Thieves lie."  His voice wasn't edged in disgust, as it always had been when they first met, but it carried undertones of that feeling.

Whisper closed his eyes to hide his shame at the ranger's words.  He saw that Triel expected that he had lied, but that he didn't know what the thief had lied about.  He set his jaw and said, "I lied about knowing Racon's weakness."

Again, the ranger hardly seemed surprised.  "You were very convincing; we thought you might be lying, but we didn't want to lose an advantage if there was one to be had."  He didn't appear to be upset; his gaze hadn't changed since before Whisper spoke.  "So you didn't know him?"

"I did," Whisper replied.  The ranger's reaction had yet to sink in.  He still felt certain that he would die, or at least be driven away from the group.  "We became thieves together a long time ago."  His voice was level, but his breath fluttered unevenly in his chest, and his face showed his shame as he stared off into the trees.  "We were friends, but…"

Triel nodded.  "He betrayed you."

"Yes."  The thief closed his eyes briefly, and then looked at his companion again.  "He became power hungry.  He betrayed everyone.  He trusts no one.  He… I don't think he has a weakness."

The taller man looked back down at his dagger, and picked it back up to begin sharpening it again, his light hair shielding his eyes from Whisper's view.  They also hid the thief's shudder of apprehension from his sight.  "So you are in this for revenge?"

Whisper paused, considering.  He had no desire for the legendary weapon Racon had stolen any longer.  At the moment, he had no desire for anything.  He was lost in a maze of uncertain emotions.  But revenge… Yes, he would like to have that before he died.  "Yes.  I wanted the hammer, too… But not any longer."  What would he do with power?  He had seen what it had done to his friend, turning him into a suspicious overlord who trusted no one; he had seen what it had done to the leader of his guild, causing the man to become frightened of anyone with any sort of power, so that he sent Whisper off to his death on a 'mission' to rid himself of the thief; and, most importantly, he had seen what these two were like, and they had no need for power.

Triel glanced up at him, surprised.  "You've changed much since we met," he said matter-of-factly.

The thief smiled ironically.  "Yes, not that it has done me any good."

"What do you mean?" Triel asked, though his silvery eyes clearly showed that he understood perfectly.

"I don't expect to go much further after this," Whisper said vaguely.  He clarified:  "I don't expect you two to bear my presence any longer."

The ranger looked down again, shaking his head slowly.  "No, I think that you have plenty of life left to live," he said as he resumed his task of sharpening his dagger.  "I will not kill a good man.  Even the dwarf wouldn't do that, I think; and anyway, I would talk sense into him if he tried."

Whisper furrowed his brows, confused.  He had not expected this.  "A good man?" he asked softly.  "You cannot be talking about me."

Triel laughed shortly.  "You may not have noticed, Whisper, but you have changed more than you think on this journey.  I don't believe you are the man you were at the start of this quest at all.  I believe in second chances, if they are deserved, and you've earned one."

_No, I don't, the thief thought, but he knew better than to refute the ranger's statement.  Triel would not change his mind so quickly, but Whisper could not help remembering ones who would have.  "Thank you," he murmured._

The ranger seemed amused by this, but he just nodded.  He finished sharpening his dagger, and he held it up to inspect it in the light.  By all appearances, he looked as if he hadn't ever had the conversation with Whisper that he'd just had.

Whisper took care of the campfire, still warm as it was though the flame had long ago died out, hiding his shock all the while.  He had thought that he knew Triel, but the ranger had taken him by complete surprise.

His heart ached, overwhelmed.  He'd been accepted by the one he loved, by his view.  Triel hadn't pushed him away.

He'd thought that the greatest joy in the world was a perfectly completed mission.  He had been wrong.

The joy he felt now was unparalleled by any other he had ever felt.  The joy he felt now was love that was not doomed.

- - -

Whisper had thought that the day could not hold more surprises, but it could.  He found himself amazed when Triel dutifully told the dwarf what the thief had admitted, and Klangdin had not demanded his immediate death.  True, the dwarf had acted indignant and angry, but he hadn't even commanded Whisper to leave.  The thief hadn't realized that the dwarf had grown to like him, in his odd, gruff sort of way.

They'd continued on their journey, and soon they fell into their regular pattern, silent over all but occasionally making conversation.  The only difference that Whisper saw was that their rare conversations were more amiable; the dwarf and ranger seemed to accept him more.  In truth, they treated him little differently than before; the difference lay in his own perception.

The day's travel was uneventful, and even in his high hopes Whisper often felt bored.  The weather was ambiguous; the sun shone, but there was a little fog settled over the ground on the path they took throughout the day.  The clouds that drifted through the sky, at least, were not dark with rain for miles out, so they had no need of worrying about storms.

The thief was alone with his thoughts for much of the day, but doubt did not slowly crawl into his mind; he occasionally felt a thrill of doubt run through him, but he was, overall, hopeful and happy.  Klangdin and Triel found mirth bubble up within them for no apparent reason whenever they caught a look at Whisper's hazel eyes and the expression on his face, but they did not show it.

The sun was an hour from setting by the time they stopped to make camp.  It was still bright out, and fog still rolled in the distance.  Klangdin cursed the surface weather a few times as he laid out his bedroll, for the sake of appearances; he was a dwarf, and used to the weatherless subterranean world, but he did enjoy the varied weather of the surface on occasion.  It was during storms that his hollow curses filled with true vehemence.

They did not camp near running water, but they did find a stagnant pool to spend the night near.  It served as a bath for the humans, but Triel did not wait until after dark because the water was not running.  They didn't drink from it for fear that it could cause sickness, but drank from their waterskins sparingly instead.

By the time dusk drew near, Klangdin had set a decent fire to roaring, and the three men had their bedrolls out and camp set up for the night.  Triel cooked a rabbit he'd caught while the dwarf was setting up the fire for their dinner, and they pulled out dried vegetables from their rations to add to the meal.  Their talk was jovial, light spirited, as they ate and prepared for bed.  Triel did not shave this night, which pleased Klangdin; the dwarf hated it when the ranger shaved, and always left with a shudder when he did so, as dwarves were quite fond of their beards.  Of course, he frowned upon Whisper's inability to grow a beard far more fiercely than the fact that Triel shaved his, but the thief did not mind.  He understood how the dwarf felt.  It was the same way he and his kin felt about the fact that dwarven women had beards.

When they laid down to sleep, Whisper thought that sleep would welcome him, but it again strayed far from his side, allowing his thoughts to wander.  He thought of his new feeling of acceptance, he thought of the path that still laid ahead of them, he thought of meeting face-to-face with Racon and having his revenge… But most of all he thought of the ranger.  Never before had he thought of Triel this way, but realization of how he felt, admission of his inner feelings, brought the thoughts flooding into his mind like a tidal wave.

The night was quiet.  Only a handful of crickets played their song, the nocturnal animals were particularly quiet, the wind did not tickle the tree leaves, and even Klangdin's snores were muffled by the foggy night air.  The stars were shrouded in mist, giving Whisper a twinkling view of the night sky.

The thief laid on his back, his hands behind his head as he stared up at his familiar, starry roof, a contented half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  The fire cast dim light over him, shrouding his fine features in long shadows.  His mind churned, roaming from thought to thought aimlessly, leaving unfinished ideas behind to leap to new concepts.

In what seemed like an instant and an eternity at once, his thoughts slowed their tumbling in his mind, and the pattern of his pondering narrowed to one idea: Triel.  He breathed in deeply, and then slowly, quietly sat up, looking over to where the ranger lay, unmoving.  He stood stealthily and crept over to Triel's bedroll, wishing to steal a glance at him while he slept.

Whisper knelt next to his ranger companion and looked down at him, intending to tarry there only for a brief moment, but he found his gaze caught on the man's fair face.  His eyes were closed, his expression serene, much like the one he had been wearing when the thief had observed him washing the night before.

As if he sensed that he was being watched, the ranger's eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Whisper with a confused expression.  He matched the thief's gaze for a moment, and then struggled to sit up.  In a worried tone, he asked, "Is everything all right?"

For a second, the thief did not reply.  Then he nodded slowly, continuing to stare into Triel's eyes, where the firelight was reflected in their silvery depths.

"What's wrong?" Triel asked quietly.

Whisper didn't answer.  Instead, he leaned forward, gently placing his lips over Triel's.  He kissed the ranger, his heart crying out that this was what he had lived for, this was the best moment of his life.

Triel was stunned at first, but he realized what was happening.  He growled angrily and harshly pushed the thief back.  Whisper, caught off balance, tumbled backward to the ground, where he laid, too shocked to move.  The ranger had the dagger he'd been sharpening the day before at his neck before he realized what was happening.

The thief looked up at his companion, his eyes wide with fear at first, but slowly narrowing with resolve.  He didn't move, didn't try to get away.  If the ranger, with all his morals, wished to kill him in cold blood, he would not stop him.

Triel slowly pulled away from the thief, too stunned to speak.  At first he had been shocked and revolted at what Whisper had done, but now he was more afraid of his own reaction.  He was a ranger, and he had long ago pledged to be open minded about these things.  _Funny how all that can change when it happens to you personally,_ he thought bitterly, ashamed of the way he had behaved.  He put his dagger away, looking at Whisper where he laid still on the ground.

The thief slowly rose and wiped his mouth, feeling as though he had somehow defiled his ranger friend.  "I'll get my things," he murmured in a low, heavy voice.  There was no way that he could expect to stay with these two any longer.  "I'm sorry."

Triel wiped his own mouth on his sleeve, unable to hide his disgust.  In a slow, unsteady voice, he said, "You don't have to leave."

"Why not?" Whisper spat.  "I have no use to you two, and after this, I'm surprised you haven't killed me."  His voice clearly showed his anger, more at himself than at Triel.

"I don't want you to leave because I reacted wrongly," Triel murmured.  "I shouldn't have done that."

"What could you have done?" the thief asked despairingly.  "I was foolish to hope… I should have expected no other reaction…"

"I am a ranger.  I am supposed to be understanding about these things.  I should have…"  He grimaced.  "I should have just… Pulled away… And explained that…"  He trailed off, aware of how foolish he must have sounded.

Whisper laughed bitterly.  "Whatever you say.  You want me to stay to prove that you are the ranger you claim to be."  His words were harsher than intended; he fully believed that Triel deserved his title as a ranger.

Triel cast his gaze to the ground, hurt.  "You can leave if you like.  It's probably better that way.  You were going after Racon Gelb purely for revenge.  That isn't a good reason."

Whisper shook his head slowly, wearily closing his eyes.  "I don't want to leave.  I've nothing left to go back to.  But I can't stay just because you want to appease your conscience."

The ranger looked up at him, eyes flashing angrily.  "I did nothing wrong!  I did not hurt you!" he said in a harsh whisper.

Again the thief shook his head.  "I should go."

Triel stood, trying to hide a grimace as he took the thief's wrist to stop him from leaving.  "If you stay for no other reason, stay because you may know a weakness of Racon Gelb that you didn't realize you knew."  He looked Whisper in the eyes when the thief turned to face him, eyes determined.  "You never know."

Whisper sighed.  "Fine.  I'll stay."  He looked away from the ranger, expression pained.  "I'll be back in the morning.  I need to go for a walk."

Triel looked at him steadily for a moment, as if he were measuring him mentally, before nodding and letting go of his wrist.  "I'll see you then."  He watched the thief walk away in the direction of the stagnant pond they'd camped near for a moment, until he could no longer see the man in the shadows and fog in that direction.

He laid down on his bedroll, confused and uncertain.  He put his fingers to his lips, recalling the kiss.  Then he grimaced, disgusted, and wiped his mouth nearly raw with his blanket before he was satisfied.  He closed his eyes and welcomed sleep as it drifted over him.

Whisper watched this from the bushes near camp; he'd circled around and back without thinking about it, to watch the ranger.  Once Triel fell asleep, he turned and headed to the nearby pond, his face a cold, hard mask.

Inside, he was crying.

- - - - -

Author's Note: This started out as just a short shounen-ai fiction that would be different from the rest, as you've read.  It's nice to read that the boys always get the one they love, but it gets redundant after a while, so I wanted to write one in which our boy is refused.  Painfully.  It's sad, but at least it isn't overdone.  Of course, I have to be thorough, yes?  I wanted our boy to be a thief, and his love to be a ranger.  But how the hell would a ranger and thief be traveling together in peace?  Rangers would hate thieves, wouldn't they?!  So I had to have a reason for that.  Well, turns out that our lovely trio met up in Nashkell quite randomly, and it was 'chance'- fate- that brought the three who could get Moradin's Bane back from Racon Gelb together.  The thief who once knew him, the ranger who knew the rumors and knew where his fortress was, and the dwarf who knew all about the hammer.  From this sprang an entire plot that I could write, and I just might if I get good reviews on this fic.  Yes, there will be a lot of shounen-ai in the full length feature.  There will be a lot of interesting things, and much backstabbing and twisting plotlines.  Question is, will anyone want to read it?  Like I said in warnings, if you don't like this kind of thing, screw you.


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