Magelet
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognise as belonging to Tamora Pierce...which is, yeah, pretty much everything.
A/N: I have read The Immortals series, and I loved them, and I'm addicted to reading other people's Daine and Numair fanfics (in fact, I seem to have run out of them! :)) but it's been awhile since I've read the actual books, so if I make any really obvious mistakes with details, I hope it doesn't bother people who know the books much better than I do too much. Also, if you're looking for a plot in here, you're just going to find yourself completely enmeshed in fluff!
Rays of the morning sun cast across Daine's sleeping face and began to slowly rouse her to consciousness. As she shook off the last remnants of her dream, she suddenly became aware of an unfamiliar weight lying across her and instinctively tensed, panicking. As if reassuring her, the arms around Daine tightened and the face buried in her neck sighed. She immediately relaxed, remembering, and cracked one eye open.
"'Mair?" she croaked, with sleepy incoherence.
Reaching a hand up, she rubbed her face and smiled as she registered Numair's light snoring. It always amused her that the great mage snored. When awake, he denied it adamantly, of course. Twisting her head, Daine tried to see her love's face, but it was hidden in her tangled hair. Trying to stretch without waking him – not that it was likely that she would, she'd never known any creature to sleep as soundly as Numair – she gently moved the hand that rested on his back and stroked down the length of his spine. It didn't occur to her that it was the same gesture that she used to affectionately pet Zek and the palace housecats, a fact that Numair would no doubt have pointed out to her had he been able. As it was, however, he didn't seem to mind being petted. He shuddered and made a sound in her ear that, if she hadn't known better, sounded a lot like a purr.
Lips twitching, Daine brushed the hair from his face and transferred caressing fingertips to his long nose and soft lips, tracing the features of his face, half-hoping that he would wake up. Not surprisingly, he didn't.
Holding him tighter, she looked over at the window. The sunrise beckoned to her, and she carefully lifted Numair's arms away and moved to swing herself out of bed, making sure that he was still covered. She knew how he hated the cold.
"No," complained Numair crossly, in his sleep. He reached out, grasped her firmly and dragged her back against him. Sighing deeply, he pressed his face against hers, and smiled in a distinctly smug way.
Daine couldn't help rolling her eyes. Typical high-handed Numair, she thought with affection. She again tried to move, and Numair slung a leg across hers, effectively trapping her.
Daine thought for a second.
Five minutes later, she stood by the window, wearing one of Numair's shirts and breathing in the cool morning air. Turning her head, she smiled and tried not to giggle at the sight of Numair happily hugging her pillow.
The breeze stirred her soft brown curls and she stood motionlessly, just enjoying the moment. She doubted if she would ever feel completely content. Memories of her mother's death, of Rikash, of Leaf and Jelly, of those she had slain and seen slain in battle would always be there, and she wasn't so young and naïve that she didn't realize there would always be more sorrows and guilt and grief waiting.
But her mother had always told her to grab and hold onto what was good in her life, and to balance it with the bad, and that was what she was going to do.
And she had plenty in her life that was good now.
The main cause of her happiness mumbled something and frowned. It hadn't taken Daine long to realize that Numair not only talked to himself when he was studying and doing experiments, but also in his sleep. It was endearing, and, Daine thought wickedly, often very informative. Numair could be irritatingly close-lipped sometimes, and she'd learned all sorts of interesting things from his involuntary mutterings.
Daine glanced around the room that they shared. It was strewn with Numair's books and papers – in some places, they were piled as tall as she – but absent of the usual clamor of animals that flocked around her at night. Numair had insisted that if he was going to be spending the rest of his nights in a room with her and half the occupants of surrounding forests, then for at least one night, he got to have her to himself.
So, for the first time since she could remember, the door had remained closed and any visitors intending to stop by were kept out. Daine hadn't been entirely comfortable with that, but thought it wasn't really too much for Numair to ask.
Her gaze fell on a crumpled garment on the floor.
'Thayet would have my head,' Daine thought, a little guiltily, as she bent and scooped up her wedding dress.
She held it out and looked at it again. It was beautiful – the most beautiful item of clothing she'd ever seen, let alone owned. She'd been stunned into silence when the queen had smilingly produced it. Intending to reluctantly dress up in a gown she'd worn last Midwinter, Daine had – for the first time in her life – been completely entranced by a dress.
However, by the time they'd gotten back to their room last night both she and Numair had been more than eager to discard it, Daine recalled, flushing.
Gods, she was married.
Married. Daine shook her head in wonder. A few short years ago, she hadn't imagined she would ever marry anyone. Certainly she would never have dreamed that she'd marry her teacher and friend, the man she'd been in love with for what seemed like forever.
She knew, with complete certainty now, that she'd done the right thing – for herself and for Numair. After his first proposal, Daine had been plagued by doubts and worries about accepting him and she'd asked for more time. Every proposal of his following that had been met with the same uncertain reply. The idea that he might grow tired of waiting for her niggled at her and added to her anxieties.
But he'd kept asking and he'd kept talking to her and laughing with her – and at her occasionally – and he'd kept overprotecting her and kissing her and loving her. Daine had seen the hurt that lingered in his dark eyes each time she hesitated though, and she hated herself for not being sure of what they had together.
And then one day, she stopped. She stopped doubting and she stopped worrying that she would be trapping both of them into something they might regret later, and she accepted him.
It hadn't taken any life-threatening drama or moment of great epiphany to help her make up her mind. It just happened and she knew it was right, so she'd said yes, she would marry him.
Seeing as how he hadn't actually been proposing at the time – they were just sitting alone, eating dinner together – Numair had been somewhat surprised by this. Several of his students had been eating nearby and were more than somewhat surprised – rather jaw-droppingly astonished – to see the powerful and respected mage choking on a bean. He'd then picked Daine up, spun her around and did what could only be described as a little dance.
Plans for the wedding had moved forward with huge haste. Numair had seen to that, obviously worried that something would happen to make her change her mind. He had no need to worry. It was strange. Although Daine was the one who had been originally unsure, once they'd announced their betrothal, it was she who was calm and unflustered. She'd been serenely happy, a fact noted with satisfaction by her friends – two-legged, four-legged, no- legged, alike.
Numair, on the other hand, had been a nervous wreck. He refused to let her out of his sight for more than a day at a time and had insisted that they be married as soon as could be arranged.
That was fine with her, Daine agreed, because she absolutely wanted a small wedding. And by small, she'd said with pointed politeness to Thayet, she meant small. She was well aware that the queen would consider a quiet exchange of vows to include half of Tortall and a good deal of Carthak. Although the royal was her friend, Daine still felt uncomfortable crossing her but on this subject she was prepared to let her stubbornness show. She wasn't her Ma's daughter for nothing. She knew how to stand firm.
After a solid four days of arguments, which appeared to be going nowhere, a politic Alanna had pointed out to a disgruntled Thayet that it was Daine's wedding, after all, and she should have what she felt comfortable with.
Daine had wrestled her down to fifty human guests – although she had said, with what Thayet protested to be blatant exclusivity, that as many animals could come as they liked.
The two women had then rejoined forces over their mutual exasperation about what they called the cowardly retreat of Numair and Jon from the debate.
Satisfied that she wouldn't have to feel too self-conscious in front of hoards of people on her wedding day, Daine had therefore been more than a little surprised, when she walked shyly to meet Numair under a flower- draped arbor, to find the eyes of several thousand animals and several hundred humans looking back at her.
Thayet had been quick to inform her later that she'd had nothing to do with it, and it was true. Daine had discovered that she could blame Cloud's gossiping (although the pony had retreated into outraged sulking against that accusation) and Numair's excited babbling for the crowds. Onua had told her that he'd mentioned the wedding almost unconsciously to everyone he'd spoken to and inadvertently ended up inviting them.
It was probably fortunate for the loose-tongued pair that by the time Daine found this out, she was much too happy to care.
Folding her gown with unusual care now, Daine smiled. Her wedding day had been nothing like what she'd wanted, but better than she'd imagined it could be.
Thayet had taken over most of the organizing, which was fine with Daine, who would much rather spend time with Numair, and talking to the animals. And the enthusiastic queen had made everything beautiful. Even Daine, who didn't know a lot about feminine trappings, could see that.
She and Numair were to exchange vows under an arbor that sagged beneath the weight of brightly coloured wildflowers. There were flowers everywhere, in fact, including decorating a couple of rather frivolous screens that Thayet had added "for decoration", or so she had said when a doubtful Daine asked why they were there. She'd left lots of room for any non-human spectators, and had arranged the biggest feast Daine had ever seen, with treats for every kind of species imaginable. The crowning glory was an enormous cake – the recipe of which Daine had obtained from Sarra: literally food of the gods.
"It's going to be perfect," Thayet had said proudly to Jon the night before the big day, "I can just tell everything's going to go right."
Nothing went right. At least, not the way it was intended to go.
It had started off as planned. Alanna, Thayet and Onua had helped Daine to dress in one of the palace bedchambers. It took over an hour before the other women were completely satisfied, much to Daine's impatience. She wanted to get it over with and she didn't want to keep Numair waiting. She knew that she wanted to marry him, but she wasn't so sure about all the fuss involved with the actual wedding.
Daine didn't need to worry about keeping Numair waiting, as it turned out. In the time that it took her to bath, be laced into her gown, dress her hair and be lightly painted, Numair just managed to finish doing his hair.
He'd then made several anxious trips to the women's room, just to make sure that Daine was all right and hadn't changed her mind. Finally, Alanna, irritated, had threatened to burn his latest research if he didn't scarper.
Five minutes into the ceremony, things had begun to go awry.
Someone – and by someone, Daine suspected Alanna's son, Thom – had thought it would be interesting to see what would happen if they gave cider to a curious Kitten. What had happened was the young dragon got so excited that she began tossing ceremonial candles about, and accidentally burnt down Thayet's nice wedding arbor.
The fire could have been a problem, but wasn't, because not thirty seconds later it began to rain. Heavily.
Daine and Numair had continued to say their vows through all of this, eyes only on each other.
But now that the moment had arrived, nerves were beating like hawk wings in Daine's belly and, in a moment of abstraction and agitation, she accidentally transformed herself into a sparrow.
She'd sheepishly changed back into her wedding dress behind one of the 'decorative' screens and vowed never to doubt Thayet again.
The rain had ruined most of the food but the guests shouldn't have had to go hungry, because the cake was being kept under a sheltered area.
Unfortunately, when a couple of the palace's servants went to unveil it, they found that Cloud – bored by all the sentimentality – had discovered a sweet tooth. The mortified pony stood beside an empty platter, the look on her cake-smeared face equal measures defiance and guilt.
It had been an absolute disaster. And absolutely wonderful at the same time.
She was married to Numair, she loved him, he loved her and that was enough for Daine. Besides, the chaotic wedding gave them a chance to slip away early, unnoticed, much to their mutual pleasure.
The only bad thing about the wedding day was that George had been unable to come, Daine reflected. But he was expected to arrive that morning and Numair had told her – with a deliciously wicked smile – that they would probably be able to rejoin their friends in about a week. Or two.
And there had been nothing bad about her wedding night. Except that she was still blushing a fiery red even now. Numair had been amused by her violent colouring, until Zek (curled up unnoticed on Daine's pillow) had made an innocently lewd comment. Then Numair's face had matched hers in brilliance, Zek had been banished to Kalasin's room and all furry and feathered friends were banned for the night.
Daine rubbed her hands against her cheeks as she recalled the night before. It had been a little bit nerve-wracking, a little bit awkward and wholly amazing. She'd never felt so at home with another human as she did with Numair now, and she knew the feeling would last.
"Well, love?"
Daine turned at the sound of the male voice and peered out the window. She smiled as she recognized the male figure striding into the darkened courtyard below, and the woman who separated herself from the shadows to meet him.
Alanna, the Lioness, and George Cooper stood before each other and just looked for a second. Then the former thief reached out and scooped his wife into his arms, kissing her soundly and spinning her about. Daine turned away, not wanting to intrude on their privacy, and listened to the sound of their laughter.
Suddenly, strong arms slid around her waist and held her tight. She jumped a little and then placed her hands over Numair's and squeezed. She'd been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hadn't even heard him get out of bed.
"Mmm," Numair nuzzled her neck and bit her earlobe gently, "You're up early, sweet. Come back to bed. I can't sleep without you."
"Your snores suggested otherwise," Daine said dryly, unable to keep a silly smile off her face as she leaned back to look at her husband. "And you seemed happy enough with my pillow over there."
Numair mock-glared at her and his hands loosened their hold to tickle her, before, unexpectedly, he swept her into his arms and lifted her close.
"We don't have to sleep anyway," he murmured, flashing her a suggestive grin.
He made no move towards the bed though, seemingly content to just stand with her in his arms and enjoy the new dawn together.
"Is that George?" he asked, looking out the window.
Daine nodded, suddenly not particularly interested in what their friends were doing. She fisted her hands in Numair's long black hair and rubbed her nose against his cheek. He turned and caught her lips with his.
"Are you all right?" he asked, pulling back to look penetratingly at her.
Daine blushed – again – and couldn't help burying her face against him. She nodded against his neck.
"I love you, magelet," he murmured to her softly.
She met his gaze.
"I know," she said quietly. "I love you too, Numair."
The lovers stood in silence for a moment, before a small bird suddenly alighted on the windowsill and greeted Daine cheerfully.
She replied in turn, although admittedly she was a little distracted.
'Well, you have your much tall mate,' said the bird cheekily, 'Is life perfect then?'
Daine considered for a minute and then smiled.
'Close enough' she answered and the bird dipped its head in understanding.
Daine watched it soar into the sky and tightened her arms around Numair's neck.
Close enough.