Heartwarming / Dragonlance

• "Look Raist, bunnies!"
• Given Raistlin's general behavior towards Caramon, any moment where Raistlin is actually nice to him ("nice" being a relative word) counts, once you factor out the ones that include Raistlin treating Caramon like a faithful dog and Raistlin doing something out of self-interest...
• Raistlin and Bupu. Their whole dynamic is just made of heartwarming. The embittered, angry, anti-social Raistlin identifying with and even befriending a creature whom everyone else disregards and mistreats; what really cements it is him running back to get her as the companions are escaping the collapsing city.
• During the companions' mission to Pax Tharkas, Tasslehoff and Fizban get separated from the rest and end up on a balcony overlooking the lair of the red dragon, Ember. They see the cowering gully dwarf, Sestun, who had earlier helped the companions escape a slave caravan and had been given to Ember to eat (though the dragon scoffed at the thought of eating such a pathetic little meal). Then they see Ember meet with someone they had thought was an ally to the companions, but was now revealed as a traitor. Tasslehoff can't figure out what to do, because he wants to warn his friends but doesn't know where they are, and if he just goes blindly looking for them anything could happen.
  Tasslehoff: You know, I asked my father once why kenders were little, why we weren't big like humans and elves. I really wanted to be big.
  Fizban: What did your father say?
  Tasslehoff: He said kenders were small because we were meant to do small things. "If you look at all the big things in the world closely," he said, "you'll see that they're really made up of small things all joined together." That big dragon down there comes to nothing but tiny drops of blood, maybe. It's the small things that make the difference.
  Fizban: Very wise, your father.
  Tasslehoff: Yes. I haven't seen him in a long time... [comes to a decision] We'll leave the big things to the others. They've got Tanis and Sturm and Goldmoon. They'll manage. We'll do the small thing, even if it doesn't seem very important. We're going to rescue Sestun.

• In Dragons of Summer Flame we have Raistlin of all people, showing how much he respected Sturm Brightblade.
  "I recognize that blade," Raistlin said calmly. "Your father's isn't it? I never liked your father much. All that business about knightly honour, nobility. He made such a show of it, flaunted it, threw it in my face."
  Steel said nothing, but his hand gripped the sword's hilt more tightly, until the knuckles were white.
  Raistlin drew closer still.
  "And then I discovered something very interesting about your father. He lied to us. Sturm Brightblade was no more a knight than I was. He was made a knight only shortly before his death. All that time, he wore the armor, carried the sword... and it was all a lie."
  Raistlin shrugged, "And do you know what? I liked him better after I discovered that."
  "Because you supposed he has sunk to your level," Steel said hoarsely.
  Raistlin's smile was twisted, bitter. "You would think that, wouldn't you Brightblade? But, no, that's not the reason."
  Raistlin moved closer, so close that Steel could feel the chill of the mage's frail body, could hear the breath rattle in the lungs, could feel the soft touch of black velvet.
  "Your father lied to every person except one- himself. In his heart Sturm was a knight. He had better claim to that false title than many who held it for truth. Sturm Brightblade obeyed laws that no one enforced. He lived by a noble code in which no one else believed. He swore an oath that no one heard. Only himself... and his god. He did that himself. He knew himself."
  "Who are you Steel Brightblade?" Raistlin's golden, hourglass eyes flickered. "Do you know?"
  Steel's face drained of colour. He opened his mouth, but no words passed his lips. A tear slid down his cheek. He lowered his head so swiftly that the long black hair tumbled down in front of his face.
  With an angry motion, he thrust his sword into its sheath. Turning, not looking at any of them, he ran towards the stairs and the sounds of battle.