A/N: A Haar/Jill oneshot of epic proportions! Or it's just too long. Delves a little bit into my own headcanon, of course. Headcanon is so fun to create for them. This is mainly just a series of scenes as they grow up together, focusing mainly on their respective birthdays. Posting this now because Improvisations is going through Haar/Jill withdrawal, and she needs a large dose of them to cure her! Enjoy, and please leave a review!

Words: 6088
Characters: Haar, Jill, (Shiharam)
Time: Throughout their lives
Genre: Friendship/Romance

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Nintendo, not me.


For once, Haar woke easily with the sun. Usually – much to Shiharam's chagrin – Haar squeezed every last second of sleep out of the night until he was so pressed for time that he had absolutely no other choice but to rise and rush to his duties. Some of the others were infuriated at his apparent unconcern for punctuality, but all the same, Haar replaced reliability with efficiency, completing his assignments faster and better than any of the others.

Today, however, was different. Shiharam had told all the dracoknights that they could spend the day off-duty, for he, Shiharam, would not be available to train them.

It took Haar's sleepy mind a moment to remember why this day was different and – even more curiously - why he had instinctively woken up so early. A loud cry from a nearby room reminded him. A small smile stretched across his face. It was little Jill's first birthday, and what a year it had been. Haar felt like he had spent more time with her than any one other person all year. If Shiharam was ever off in his duty to Daein, Haar was the only one who could make Jill stop crying, or fall asleep, or even smile.

Without bothering to change out of his sleepclothes, Haar hurried from his bed to Jill's nursery, where Shiharam and the nanny were already awake and huddled around her crib. Jill wasn't employing her very loudest scream yet, but she was certainly wailing; she stood resolutely in her crib with her tiny hands fisted on the high railing. Haar couldn't help but laugh as he came in and saw Shiharam's distraught expression.

"I suppose your grand visions of her first birthday didn't involve her spending the morning in tears?" Haar said to Shiharam, crossing over to stand beside him and look bemusedly down at Jill.

"It wasn't exactly what I had expected, no," he said dryly. "I seem to have forgotten she's quite the uncooperative spirit when she wants to be."

The nanny scooped Jill up in her arms and rocked her gently back and forth, but this did nothing to diminish Jill's tears. Instead, Jill waved her arms in frustration and blinked her wide, tear-filled eyes, which eventually fixed on Haar.

"May I?" asked Haar, holding out his arms. He took Jill carefully and bounced her a little, high in the air above his head. Her tears ceased almost at once; she looked down at him in wonder. "Look at you, a year old, and already taller than me. Or, no, you're flying!" He lifted her up again and spun around in a circle. When she gave a gurgling laugh, her cheeks turning pink, Haar grinned at Shiharam. "She's destined to be a dracoknight. She loves to fly already."

When Haar set her down on the ground, he kept hold of her hands; her tremulous steps still needed assistance. But she was surprisingly determined in her mobility, leading Haar in curious circles around the room. Whatever it had been that had made her cry seemed to be long forgotten.

Suddenly she stumbled and teetered; as she fell backwards, Shiharam and the nanny jumped to attention lest she start bawling again. But, tough like her father, Jill simply giggled. Haar knelt down to her level and kissed her on the forehead, ruffling her tiny crop of bright red hair, soft under his fingers.

"Happy birthday, Jill," he said with a smile, and he was rewarded when she beamed up at him in response, as if she really did know that today was something special for her, for all of them.


Rain relentlessly hammered his windows, so hard that it sounded like a shower of spears against the glass. Every now and then, the thunder seemed to reach out and shake the whole building, deafening him in the process. It was always preceded by a flash of lightning that he felt like he could see with his eyes shut. Even Haar could not sleep through this particular storm. But as it was springtime in Talrega, it was not altogether unexpected, though there hadn't been a storm this bad in years. Haar imagined he could hear the river slopping muddily over its banks already. He thought vaguely of Shiharam, out flying to Nevassa in this weather; Haar wondered if he had gotten far enough out of the area.

After a particularly large scream from the heavens, a new sound mixed in with nature's wrath. From outside his door came small sniffling and a tiny, hesitant knock, and Haar was out of bed at once. Sure enough, when he pulled open the door, he pulled in a stumbling, shivering Jill, whose hand was still fixed on the door handle. Just as he did so, another flash of lightning illuminated the whole room for a split second, just enough time for him to glimpse a tear-streaked, terrified face, before the resultant thunderclap made Jill gasp and cling tightly to one of Haar's legs.

"Aw, Jill," Haar said, intending to whisper but having to talk quite loudly to be heard over the rain. "I didn't know you were scared of thunderstorms. You've heard them before and were fine."

"I'm not scared!" she said fiercely, but her whole body was trembling. "I'm… I'm just… I'm worried about my papa!"

"'Course you are," agreed Haar. "Your old man will be fine, Jill. He's tough. He won't be hurt by a little rainstorm."

The "little rainstorm" preceded to make the whole building shudder. It poured such a ruthless volume of water that Haar would be surprised if there was any grass left in Talrega at all by morning; it would surely be buried in mud from the coming floods. Jill made another little sound of fright, and Haar felt her bury her face right above his knee.

"Tell you what," he said, picking her up and carrying her over to his bed. He deposited her there and sat beside her, holding her little hand all the while. Her tiny fingers curved tightly around his much larger ones, and she looked up at him imploringly. "You can stay here with me until the rain stops. How does that sound to you?"

She nodded blearily. As she snuggled under the covers, insisting by tugging on his hand that Haar accompany her, she said stoutly, "I'm not scared of thunderstorms. I'm almost six. Only babies get scared."

"Well, that's only half-true. Grown-ups get scared sometimes, you know."

"Even you? Even papa?"

"Especially us."

"What are you scared of?"

Haar had to think for a moment at her question, simple as it was. He couldn't see much in the darkness until another lightning-and-thunderclap combo made Jill wriggle closer to him. Idly he patted her disheveled hair, a little unsure as to how to best comfort her. "Well, I guess I'm most scared of losing you and Shiharam."

"Losing us? But… if you look hard enough, you always find lost things."

Haar smiled. "Perhaps you're right."

"Well, I won't get lost. I promise. I know my way 'round the whole town. You'll never lose me."

When the next blast of thunder rang out angrily across the room, Jill didn't flinch quite as much as she had before. Her small hand, warm inside his, twitched a little bit. Haar squeezed her fingers gently. He couldn't think of how to reply. But he soon realized it didn't even matter. The next lightning flash illuminated Jill's sleeping face, her breathing deep and steady, despite the tempestuous night outside. Here, she was safe and quiet, and eventually, Haar too managed to close his eyes and rest.

In the morning, all was calm at last. Jill stayed snoozing in his bed for quite some time, though, even after Haar left to make breakfast for himself. He poked his head back into his room around noon and found her sitting there with a rather confused look on her face, frowning at the empty half of the bed.

"Good morning, Jill. Or, I should say good afternoon."

"Haar! There you are!" She scrambled out of bed and happily grasped his arm, beginning to babble to him about everything she planned to do that day. He had never quite grasped how she managed to have so much energy right after she woke up. He didn't really think he ever would.


"Father! You promised!"

Shiharam gave a great sigh, a rather guilty look upon his face. "I know, Jill. But maybe it's still too early – what about this, next year, for sure - "

"That's what you said last year. I'm already six! It's my birthday! You promised!"

"You don't want to go teaching her it's okay to break promises, do you, Commander Shiharam?" said Haar, ignoring the pointed glare his commander shot at him as he spoke. But that idle comment was enough. Barely a candlemark later, the three of them were in the skies, Jill sitting in front of her father with his arms tight around her. Haar flew beside them on his own mount, but he was still close enough to see Jill's wide-eyed delight and hear her thrilled giggles whenever a gust of wind tangled through her hair, or whenever they turned a corner, sped up, or shot higher.

They didn't stay out long, merely circling the land under Shiharam's protection, which included Talrega Keep and the neighboring villages and woodland. They crossed the great, muddy, flooded river twice, and Jill gasped in awe each time, but Haar noticed Shiharam's grip tighten around his daughter as they did so. Before it was even noon, they landed back at home. Jill didn't want to get out of the saddle. Her cheeks were flushed pink with excitement and windburn, and her hair was a long and knotted mess, but she looked happier than Haar thought he had ever seen her.

"Come on, Jill," Haar said, when Shiharam's persuasions seemed unable to do the trick. "You'll be able to fly every day now that you're six. One of us can always take you, right? You'll have plenty more chances after you turn in for today."

Again, Haar received a furious glare from Shiharam, but he brushed it off with a grin. His words worked, anyway; Jill hopped down to the ground, feet squelching in the mud, and she looked rather contented.

"This is the best birthday ever," she said. "Haar, when's your birthday? I want to do something special for you too!"

Haar traded another look with Shiharam – but this one was of a much different sort. Shiharam looked sympathetic, but at a loss, and Haar blinked, also uncertain. At last he turned back to Jill. "That's sweet of you, Jill. But I actually don't have a birthday. I don't know when it is, I mean."

"You don't know?" she said, sounding aghast. "But – how d'you know how old you are?"

"I just know," he said, hoping to simplify things. It was not a subject he wanted to discuss, but Jill was determined to get her way. Once she got started on something, there was no stopping her.

"Well, you should pick one!" she declared. "What's your favorite day? It'll be your birthday!"

"My favorite day?" Haar said with a grin. "Well, I don't know. I'll just have to wait for something special."

"No, you should pick one now. Today!"

"Today's your day, Jill. Let's not spoil it talking about me," Haar said in a tone that he hoped would close the subject for good. She didn't reply and continued to look annoyed. "How about this - I'll take you flying again this afternoon. How does that sound?"

The delight on her face eclipsed even her stubborn displeasure with him. However, in the next week, she pestered him at least once a day to pick his birthday, then once a week, once a month. He hoped that she would, eventually, forget about it entirely, but somehow he didn't think that was all too likely.


When he woke one chilly morning, frost clung to his windows, and even beneath a wool blanket he was not warm. Logically he knew he should wake up, but it was hardly going to be any warmer outside his blankets, and what motivation did he really have to leave bed, anyway?

"Haar! Haar! Get up, you great lump, get up!"

A shrill, excited voice accompanied a rapid hammering of fists against his door.

There's that decided, thought Haar. Ever so reluctantly, he slid from his blankets to open the door, shivering as he did so.

"What's got you so bothered?" Haar mumbled, squinting sleepily at a red-faced Jill. Indeed, all he could see of her was her face, she was so bundled up in her thickest, though rather ragged, furs. It was a wonder she could even move in all that clothing.

"It's the first snow, Haar! Come on, get your clothes on. We're going outside!"

"And my say in the matter - "

"You don't get one," said Jill, as imperiously as she could. She straightened her back and tilted her chin out, trying to daunt him, but as she only reached Haar's waist, the sight was more endearing than intimidating. For all her ten years, she had certainly developed quite a determined attitude.

Haar sighed and shooed her away so he could dress more appropriately for the weather. The first snow. He could not help but remember Bengion. His mother had deserted in the streets on the first snow of winter, muttering under her breath, "For ten years, I've… no more, no more…" Ever since then, Haar had kept track of his age by evaluating it not by a specific day, but rather by the first snowfall, which always varied. For years, the coming of the cold season had been nothing more than a bitter reminder of his abandonment. But now, even his memories couldn't tarnish his good cheer; Jill's annual enthusiasm at the winter weather had completely reversed his opinion on the matter.

He looked forlornly at his vacated bed, but then Jill knocked on his door impatiently. She seemed unable to contain her excitement; without waiting for him to reply, she strode into his room, took his hand, and proceeded to drag him outdoors. He let her lead him, unable to suppress a resigned smile.

"The first snow's always the best!" Jill cried, twirling around in the white powder. "I was so tired of cold with nothing to show for it. If it's gonna be cold, there'd best be something you can do with it, otherwise it's just pointless."

After a particularly powerful twirl, Jill overbalanced, and fell with a soft poof into the thick, fluffy powder. It was a dry snow, and in this cold, unlikely to melt anytime soon. The sky was pale with snow-clouds; more was on its way. Haar thought about Shiharam, most likely snowed in to the capital with the king. As if this thought had fluttered on a snowflake from his mind to Jill's, he noticed her face fall slightly, and she gave a great sigh. Her breath rose in a white puff from her lips.

"I hate that Father's had to be gone so much lately."

"He's an important man. The king wants to rely on him."

Jill's whole aspect seemed to glow at these words. "Really? The king himself trusts my father?"

Here Haar hesitated. Even after – what, twelve years now? - "trust" wasn't exactly what the king and his lackeys felt towards Shiharam and his men. But Haar could not bring himself to wipe the excitement and pride from Jill's face just yet. "Well, the king must like him, to keep him in Nevassa so often," he said evasively.

"My father's a great leader. I know the king likes him." Jill stated it as a definitive fact. Haar smiled again.

He didn't like the sight of her sitting alone in the snow, especially after having just felt Shiharam's absence so very powerfully, so he steeled himself for a chill and sat down beside her. Jill was scooping up a few handfuls of snow.

"Well, I usually do this to Father. But I guess you'll just have to do!" she yelled, and threw the snow flat into his face. Before he could splutter out a response, she giggled and pointed at him, her eyes gleaming. "Haar! You're old!"

"What? I'm only twenty-six, you little - "

"But you've got white hairs!" Jill said, still laughing.

Haar paused. He couldn't see his hair, but he could imagine it streaked through with white powder; he could feel the fluffy snow just barely beginning to melt. He supposed the look would add a few years to his appearance; his face was weathered and worn enough already, after all. Surreptitiously gathering his own pile of snow, Haar grinned down at Jill.

"Oh, you've gone and done it now. You've started a war! Shiharam might have gone easy on you, but I will show no mercy!"

She squeaked in gleeful protest as his rather larger handful of snow caught her in the face and settled in her long hair and the fur of her coat. Bouncing to her feet, Jill began to run, with Haar tearing after her. How long he chased her, he could never have said; there was snow flying every which way, and at some point both of them collapsed in the snow, breathless with cold and exertion. Jill flipped over on her side so she could look at him.

"You've still got white hairs," she said happily.

"Well, how can I possibly be old? I've never had a birthday, remember?" Haar shot back.

Almost as soon as he had spoken, he wished he hadn't. Jill donned a devilish expression, her exhaustion seeming to vanish in an instant. With a ball of snow clenched threateningly in her palm, she said, "That's right! Pick a birthday, Haar! Pick one, else you'll be so covered in snow you really will be an old man before you get out!"

"Jill!"


It was Jill's turn to keep the middle shift of one of the night watches. The Crimean sky was cloudless and clear, and there was barely a sliver of a moon. Despite the valiant attempts of the stars, it was still rather dark on the plains where the army had set up camp. They were so close to the Crimean capitol now. Ashnard knew exactly where they were, exactly what they were planning, so General Ike had decided there was no point in going through the trouble of hiding their camp in a woodland. It was easier to camp in the open, and as Ashnard was obviously just letting them come, they might as well take advantage of every easy opportunity they had, since from here on out, nothing else was going to be easy.

Careful footsteps behind her made her tense and whip around. Her hand tightened around her spear. But soon, she relaxed again, stretching her tense fingers. Even the darkness, she recognized the man approaching her.

"What are you doing, Haar?" she asked. It wasn't like him to forfeit even a minute in which he could be sleeping.

"Coming to see you, of course," he said, standing very close beside her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Did you think I'd forgotten? Happy birthday, Jill."

Despite herself, she found she was pleased at his presence. But his words made her remember exactly what she had been trying very hard to forget all day long. Her father's face swam in from of her vision, smiling kindly, promising her the day that had always been theirs to spend together. Haar's hand tightened on her shoulder; she had sacrificed her plate armor tonight for thinner mail in such a warm spring evening.

"I know," he murmured.

"I thought I was prepared for this," Jill said quietly, struggling to keep her voice steady. She might have fooled everyone else all day with her forced composure, but not Haar. "I've known… for months… that it would come to this, to him being gone. But today… I never thought about today…"

Soon her senses caught up with her, scolding her foolish emotions. Hurriedly she rubbed her eyes, and with a jerking movement, shook Haar's hand from her shoulder. "I'm on watch. You shouldn't be distracting me."

"Two pairs of eyes are better than one. Well, one-and-a-half, between us. But the principle applies."

She gave a grudging smile. Haar noticed.

"There," he said kindly. "That's more like it. Smile on your birthday. It's good for you."

Jill looked towards the sky, the cold stars, the distant heavens. They glittered hauntingly down at her, as if they were beacons of a brightness she would never know again. "I feel empty. Not even sad, sometimes. Not happy. Just empty."

This time, instead of her shoulder, his hand found hers. He squeezed her fingers for the briefest of moments, and something in Jill's chest constricted. "Just wait. It'll come back," Haar said. "It could take a while. But the feeling… it'll come back. I know it doesn't seem that way now, but you'll have to trust me."

"I do trust you. I'll… keep waiting."

"I'll wait here with you, if you want," Haar said. "Do you want me to stay?"

Jill shook her head. "Go get some sleep, Haar. You get cranky without it. I'm all right."

"Cranky?" he said, with a smile in his tone. "Well, if you're sure."

He squeezed her hand again. Decidedly, she didn't look at him; she knew that if she did, she would ask him to stay, and a small, defiant part of her wanted to conquer this alone. Even if her only option was to wait. She could feel Haar's gaze on her back, even though she couldn't see him.

"Goodnight, Jill."


For a few days, every time she passed Haar's favorite chair, she noticed a little chunk of wood and an ornate, graceful-looking knife that she had never seen before sitting on a nearby stool. Each time she passed, the wood looked slightly different. It was utterly bewildering to her until she saw Haar in the chair, the small knife dwarfed by his hand, carving carefully into the wood.

"What in the Goddess's name - " Jill stopped short, catching herself. No one liked to call on the Goddess anymore. "I mean, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" said Haar. "I'm carving."

"I didn't know you could carve. When did you learn to do it?"

"It's just something I picked up."

Jill couldn't help but stare at his hands, the little knife held so gingerly, the tiny flecks of dark, streaked wood falling into a little pile on the floor. She had never seen Haar hold anything so delicately, much less a blade; she associated a flash of sharp silver in his hands with ferocious fighting. His hand stopped moving suddenly, so she flicked her gaze back to his face instead, where he was watching her and grinning.

"You're staring," he said amusedly. "I didn't know you'd be so interested. Come here, sit down." He motioned towards the empty stool beside him, bereft of its usual adornments, as they were currently in Haar's hands.

Jill sat, leaning close so she could watch him work. She could see only a vague shape to the wood, something animal-like, with a long, curved neck and very thick back. Haar had only just begun to carve what looked like claws on its four feet, which were very close together. It didn't look like any kind of animal she recognized just yet. "What is it?" she asked.

"You'll see when it's finished. Patience," he teased, as Jill groaned. He knew very well how much she detested being patient. "I'll give it to you on your birthday. You'll just have to wait until then."

At least her birthday wasn't far off. Jill watched Haar for perhaps a candlemark more; the tender detail he applied to every inch of wood was both charming and intriguing. Sometimes, his hand would move even when he glanced away from his carving and at her, and yet no stroke of the knife seemed unintended. Eventually, her back grew sore; she stretched languidly and set off to make supper for the pair of them. If Haar had learned how to pass the time when they weren't delivering packages with carving, Jill had learned how to do so with gardening and cooking; she had picked the first of their spring vegetables just that morning.

He had set the carving aside by suppertime, and she didn't catch him working on it again. He seemed to have hidden it, and with a polite grin, refused to tell her where it was, or even where he was working on it. Eventually, she gave up, and the little almost-animal disappeared from her mind.

It wasn't until the very day of her birthday that she remembered. When Haar wished her a happy birthday that morning, he reached into her pocket, and she let out an involuntary gasp of realization.

In Haar's hand sat a miniature, intricate, smooth-finished carving of a sleeping dragon. Its wings were furled at its back, and its paws crisscrossed below its resting head like a pillow. A long tail, forked at the end, curved across its belly and hind legs. There was a row of delicate spines along its back, tiny frills behind its ears, and a gentle shine and texture to its wooden skin that looked like real scales. There were even wrinkles at the crease of his closed eye. Its little expression was so reminiscent of Haar's snoozing face that Jill gave an audible sigh of both amusement and amazement.

"Oh, Haar, this is beautiful," she breathed in awe, lifting the little creature with excessive care in her fingers. "How come I didn't know you could do this? This is… it's incredible, that's what, and I… I'll treasure it."

"I'm glad you like it," he said, with a nonchalant shrug.

Jill looked up at him in wonder. "You could make a living at this, Haar. You always complain about deliveries being such an inconvenient job – you could carve things and sell them! People would pay for something this beautiful - "

"No," he said shortly. Jill titled her head, confused. Haar sighed, and his hand closed around hers, pressing the dragon into her palm. "I won't carve for just anyone. This skill… it's only for a select few, for select reasons."

Something in his expression made her realize that there was no hope in pressing the issue. But the thought didn't irritate her in the slightest; rather, she felt warmed from the inside, her heart fluttering strangely in her chest. She smiled at him and nodded. "Thank you, Haar," she said. On a sudden impulse, she stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

He released her hands. After a moment, he smiled and ruffled her hair affectionately, like he used to do when she was little. "Happy birthday, Jill."


Jill watched contemplatively as what was hopefully the last snow of the season buried them in Talrega Keep. Well, perhaps "buried" was an overstatement, she supposed; they could get out, but the skies were too treacherous and cold to deliver packages now. She'd been hoping to start today. It had been beautiful and clear in the morning. Half-amused, half-irritated, Jill paced in front of the window.

"Has it ever occurred to you," she said idly to Haar, who was lazing behind her on the couch, "that you really ought to listen to me more often?"

"Hm? You say something, Jill?"

She whacked his head, but lightly.

"It was a joke, a joke," Haar said, holding up his hands in surrender. His good eye blinked open, and he too squinted out the snowy window. "Well, look at that. Winter sky did have one more shock in store for us, after all."

"I did warn you. I told you, you should have taken the package out this morning. It wasn't far. You would have been back by midday, before the snow started."

"Why didn't you do it yourself, then? You like snow."

"Your wyvern is bigger than mine. Mine can't carry that package. And I only like snow when I can throw it at you," she said, with a little slip of a smile. As she caught sight of the white flurry outside the window in the corner of her eye, an odd sense of nostalgia swept across her, as cold as if the window had been opened to let in the chilled air. She had never before missed the relatively carefree days of her youth as much as she did now.

"Jill? You all right?"

Rapidly she shook her head to clear it. She noticed that Haar had risen from the couch and was standing beside her. "I was just remembering," she said, a little sadly. "When we - "

" – used to have miniature wars in the snow? I remember too. Shiharam said that every winter, the courtyard turned into a veritable battlefield. He said I ought to have more sense than that, and that I shouldn't be encouraging such impulsiveness in you. I think I failed marvelously, don't you?"

Jill couldn't help but grin. "So you didn't listen to him, either? I remember once when you kept throwing snow at me, even when I called a truce. And all those times when you refused to pick a birthday when I asked you to."

"I'm saving my birthday," he said.

"Saving it?" Jill turned to stare at him. It was the first time he had offered any response on the subject that was not a refusal. "Saving it for what?"

His good eye sparkled warmly down at her. "For something special."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I didn't expect you to. But I'd be happy to explain," Haar said. His hand touched her temple, brushing her hair away from her eyes, lingering on her suddenly flushed skin.

"Explain…" Jill said breathlessly. Even though it was her own voice, she couldn't tell if it was a command or a question. His face was, quite suddenly, astonishingly close to hers.

Jill didn't even have time to close her eyes. His lips pressed very gently against hers, as fleetingly soft as the snowflakes falling outside. But his lips were warm and comforting, and no bittersweet memories accompanied the sensation; it was all new, but it felt as natural as if she'd always known the feeling. The unfathomable fluttering she'd sometimes felt in her chest made sudden sense. The occasional flash of Haar's gaze, lingering on her when he thought she couldn't see, also became, now, completely comprehensible.

He pulled away after only a few moments, when she had been too frozen with the shock of her new revelations to react.

"Oh," Jill said, inadequately.

"'Oh?'" repeated Haar. His expression was difficult to distinguish; he looked both worried and exasperated. "That's all you have to say?"

She could feel her cheeks turning pinker than ever. "I just… I hadn't realized."

"And now you have?"

"Yes," she said, an unconscious, shy smile spreading across her face. Out of relief, it seemed, Haar wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She welcomed the strong warmth, though she couldn't help but say, "I still don't understand what this has to do with your birthday."

Haar leaned back a little, his arms still loose around her shoulders. "Today," he said simply. "I pick today as my birthday, Jill."

Her face had to be flaming now, she just knew it. But all the same, Jill stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss of her own.

"Well, then. A very happy birthday to you at last, Haar."


"I… have a request."

"It's your birthday. Ask away, love."

Jill sidled closer to him. He looked drowsy, struggling to hide a yawn behind his hand. She caught his fingers as he lowered them and stepped very close, sure her bright cheeks would give her away. Nevertheless, she kept her voice very calm and controlled.

"I want to stay with you tonight," she said quietly, feeling as if her heart would jump right out of her chest. "That's what I want for my birthday, and you had better not refuse."

Haar seemed to be struggling not to smile. "Forceful one, aren't you?"

"I'm twenty-one, and I'm a woman, in case you hadn't noticed!"

"Oh, I have, believe me," he said idly.

"Don't keep me waiting," Jill hissed, and she grabbed his belt.

All of Haar's sleepiness had vanished. His good eye was alight with amusement and interest. He didn't respond to her sudden movement, though; he merely shrugged and smiled at her. "Well, if that's how you're going to be. All right then, Jill. You're in charge."

"I'm – what?"

"You're in charge. Just tell me what to do."

Jill stood there, speechless, her mind whirling, casting around desperately for some shred of knowledge she had on the subject. There wasn't much to find. By the warm creeping sensation over her skin, she knew her blush was spreading from her neck to her chest; if she wasn't careful, her whole body would be red. "I – well, I – I don't…"

"I'm only teasing," said Haar quickly, kissing her warmly on the lips. He lingered there, and his hands touched her hips, her waist. "As a birthday present to you," he said, with only a breath's distance in between them, "I'll help. I'll teach you. If that works for you?"

Not quite trusting herself to speak, Jill could only nod. Vigorously. Haar smiled even more widely, leading her to his room with an arm tight and warm around her waist.


For once, he woke before her. Jill was still snoozing peacefully, curled up into his side with her mouth slightly open and her hands in loose fists near her chest. Her long hair, freed from its daytime restraint of the ponytail, fanned out marvelously behind her head and over her shoulders. For a few sleepy seconds, he simply watched her happily. He loved the way a few strands of her hair fluttered when caught by her slow exhalations, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the occasional twitch of her eyelashes that meant she was dreaming.

Almost unconsciously, he lifted a lock of her hair and began to play with it, twisting and combing it through his fingers. Then he tucked it behind her ear, leaned down, and kissed her there, whispering softly.

"Wake up. Wake up, Jill," he murmured with a teasing lilt in his voice. One hand still threaded steadily through her long hair.

Her hand twitched now, shooing his attentions away, and she made an incomprehensible mumble.

"What was that?" said Haar, kissing her ear again, then her cheek, then her nose.

"Stop it," she mumbled, rolling over. "I'm sleeping."

"Not anymore," said Haar cheerily. "Happy birthday, by the way. Twenty-two years ago, to the day, Shiharam handed me a screaming bundle of blankets and said the thing was named 'Jill' - "

Out of nowhere, a pillow came flying into his face with a great deal of force, as it was still connected to Jill's arm. She flipped over again and glared at him, but her eyes were clear and sparkling, not dull with sleep. "I'm not a baby anymore," she said with a brave attempt at a pout.

"Oh, really? I never would have guessed. Convince me."

His own grin must have been infectious; a similar one was spreading across Jill's face. Clad in nothing but a thin nightdress and the sheets of their bed, she snuggled close to him, pressing her body flush against his and stretching her face up so her lips were tantalizingly close to his own. She raised an eyebrow in challenge as she traced delicate hands across his chest. Her lips followed her fingers, kissing his bare skin, lingering on the spots she knew were sensitive – the curve between his shoulders and neck, his collarbone. Her hands floated even farther down his body.

"Convinced yet?" she said slyly.

Seeing as she already knew the answer, Haar knew there was little point in responding, but he wanted to draw as much as he could from the situation nevertheless. "Perhaps. But I could always use a little extra persuasion."

She rolled her eyes, but obliged him, and Haar grinned.

Oh, he knew all too well she wasn't a baby anymore, that was for certain.