Disclaimer: As always with fanfiction, everything but the phrasing and situation belongs to Tamora Pierce. I'm merely borrowing the characters for my, and hopefully your, enjoyment.


Lianne catches sight of her brother, uncharacteristically grim and hunched over a desk of all things.

"What are you so happy about?" he asks gruffly when she plops herself down on the corner of his desk.

"It's snowing."

Without glancing up, Liam grunts in displeasure. "Yes, and what does that mean but being trapped indoors and being forced to focus on everything I should have done to get ready for when classes start up again."

"No, silly," Lianne insists. "Snowing means going outside, having the whole courtyard to ourselves, and catching snowflakes on our tongues."

"How old do you think we are, Lianne?"

Lianne lowers her lips to her brother's ear, whispering, "And when we get too cold to be outside any longer, we can come back here and curl up in front of a roaring fire as we let our clothes dry," she pauses suggestively before continuing, "Use your imagination." She nips his ear lightly, catching Liam's attention so that he looks up, his eyes holding the first hint of interest.

"But if you really hate snow that much, I suppose I'll have to enjoy it by myself – or perhaps see what Papa's new squire is up to. Anyway, don't worry about me."

Before Liam can say another word, she is gone. He gazes after her for a moment, wondering when she developed such a maddening side, before getting up to find a coat and scarf.