Happy Holidays, my lovely readers :) This is just a little gift to you all. Pure fluff. Rather more simplistic than I usually write, but I hope you still enjoy. Takes place sometime during Daine's first years in Tortall with the whole crowd. Almost a hint at the future romance, even though she's still quite young, so I classify it more as friendship.
Enjoy, have a great holiday, and as always, please review! ;) You guys have no idea how much I appreciate each and every review!
Words: 745
Characters: Daine, Numair, others
Time: Wolf-Speaker-ish
Genre: Friendship
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Tamora Pierce, not me.
The snow was as thick as a bear's winter coat. Daine's cougar paws, though wider than her human feet, still sunk quite a few inches with every step. She shook each paw delicately whenever she brought it up out of the powder. But at last, she made it back to the Riders' barracks, crept through her slightly open door, and shifted back into two-legger form, quickly donning a thick robe to beat off the chill.
Glancing back at her doorway, Daine smiled at the trail of snow that she had left over her shoddy rug. She liked fresh snow. Fresh, newly fallen powder reminded her of the best parts of home – the times when she would play with Mammoth and Cloud and Brokefang, and everything would be peaceful.
"Daine?"
She jumped at the familiar voice. Quickly Daine opened the door and grinned broadly. "Numair," she said happily. "What brings you out here?"
"You, of course. I've been sent to fetch you. Get dressed; Alanna said she needed you at the palace."
"All right, I'll be quick. I don't want you standing out in the cold for too long."
When she was ready in warm breeches and tunic, Daine stepped out and took Numair's offered arm, letting him lead her to the palace. He was walking right beside her fresh pawprints, a tiny smile at the corner of his face. A few particularly fierce gusts of wind had a mind to interrupt their travel, and Daine moved closer to Numair just as he wrapped a warm arm around her shoulders. She smiled at him in thanks.
Alanna was waiting for them when they emerged in the grand hall. George, Onua, Jon, Thayet, and Sarge were there as well, as well as the younger few, including Daine's friends Evin and Miri. The whole crowd was together for Midwinter. The walls and windows were drowning under gold and silver garlands, so thick and sparkly that Daine thought, for a minute, that they were mirrors or colored-glass windows. And in the middle of the wide room was a table groaning under the absolute finest of the palace kitchen's cooking.
"No game," Numair assured her, when he saw her staring. But Daine shook her head.
"That's not what I was surprised at," Daine said. "Is this the Midwinter feast? How come I didn't know about it?"
"Because you probably wouldn't have come if we had told you," said Miri, rather bluntly. "So we decided to keep it quiet, small, and casual, and all."
"Better for all of us that way," muttered George.
Daine only laughed. She glanced around at all of her new friends, a tingling warmth spreading through her body from where Numair's hand rested on her shoulder. It felt almost like the chill she'd known when she got snow in between her claws, only the opposite; it was as if warm contentment was permeating through her instead, like basking in the sun on a new summer's day.
After quite a few hours of fantastic food, campfire-like storytelling, and so much laughter that Daine felt like her ribs were going to break right off, most of her friends were yawning their goodbyes and heading to their rooms. Waving goodbye to Miri, Daine crossed the room to meet Numair, the last person in the room.
"Look outside," the mage said, bending a little and pointing out the ornate glass window. Snow was gently caressing the dark, cloudy sky, the moon merely a fuzzy round glow directly overhead. "I do believe it's officially Midwinter."
"I think you're right," Daine said, pressing a hand to the glass. It felt like ice under her fingertips. "You usually are, after all."
"You flatter me, Daine."
But just by his tone, Daine could tell he was secretly a little bit pleased. Turning around, Daine stood up on her tiptoes, touched Numair's face with her hands, and kissed him brightly on the lips.
"Midwinter luck," she explained cheerily as she fell back onto her feet. "Miri swears it's true. You have to kiss someone on Midwinter, else you'll have bad luck for the whole next season."
"We can't be having that, now can we?" Numair responded after a moment. Daine could see the moon reflected in his dark eyes.
He took her cold hand and rubbed it in between his palms. He paused, then bent to kiss her on the cheek.
"Happy Midwinter, magelet."
