Talashar woke, the cold air brushing her cheek, as spring's morning stirred the wind outside the house.  Streching out she could not remeber where it was that she had spent the night, until she saw Raistlin open the door to check on her.



"I was begining to worry about you," he laughed, stepping into the room with a cup of tea in his hand. "You had nightmares last night, I was wondering if I dared check on you."  He stood in the center of the room, his red robes glowing in the early golden light.



"Did I?" She yawned, stretching her pale arms above her head, arcing the kinks out of her back.  "I didn't notice."



"You did.  You were screaming about something, but I feared to wake you.  I have dealt with nightmares before, and waking the sleeper is a bad idea in my opinion." He looked at her for a moment then gazed dolefully out the window, an unsettling expression on his slender face.  "Well, you ought to be getting up, everyone is wondering who you are, and what I am doing with you."



He turned and walked from the room, closing the door quietly behind him.  Talashar stood, wondering when he had changed. He had been so kind before, so shy and tentative.  This was a completely different person, he was harsh and cold: he was in pain.  Perhaps she had expected to much to hope that he had not changed since he was thirteen.  She thought back on that season, the season she had spent here in her youth when she met Raistlin, when he had saved her.