I do not own any of the characters, only the plot idea :)
Daine sighed, flipping over another page of the heavy, molding book in front of her. She skimmed the words, barely taking in any of the information they held, and flipped another two pages. She peeked through a tangled, curly curtain of hair to make sure that Numair had not seen her cheating her studies, and was peeved to see him bending over the shoulder of Varice, helping her master a tricky passage in her own sorcery book. With a huff, she flipped through some more dense pages, landing on a skeletal picture of a wolf. Even though she knew the bone structures of her brothers as well as she knew the time of day, she kept the book open to that page and, making sure her hair shielded her from any stray glances, closed her eyes for a nap. Not that I would get much sleep, with her giggling every other second, she thought grouchily.
"You know," a deep voice said loudly at her side, "you'll never get better if you don't actually read."
Daine straightened up sharply, her hair flying into her slightly opened mouth. Lindhall, eyes smiling and kind, had taken the seat next to hers. Still handsome, he had aged in the past three years, the wrinkles around his eyes had deepened and his hair was more silver than blond. 'It's looking after Numair, that pest,' he always joked, but Daine could feel a disease steadily eating its way through his blood. She had tried talking to him about it several times, but he avoided the topic skillfully. Any attempt she made at offering him her healing magic was dismissed, until even stubborn Daine had decided to give up.
"I know, sir," she smiled meekly, "but look at how much I've already gone through!" She held up the pages she had skipped, holding them together so they formed a solid block a centimeter across.
"And how much of that was actually read?" Lindhall asked.
"Well, quite a –" Daine croaked on the last word. She glared at Kitten, who was entertaining himself with chasing Zek's swishing tail. Ever since their encounter with Griffin, everyone found they were unable to lie in the dragon's presence. Another useful trick she had picked up from her fellow Immortals, Daine thought. "Not too much of it," she admitted.
Lindhall nodded his understanding. "You know, when I was younger, I also couldn't stand being cooped up inside on such a beautiful day either." Daine smiled. Somehow, it wasn't hard for her to imagine the energetic Lindhall as young. Both of them looked out the window, taking in the delicate play of sunlight on the ocean.
"It's not just that," she confided, her eyes skipping over the desk to where Numair sat head-to-head with Varice. "I mean, look at them!" she nodded towards the pair, frowning at Lindhall. In a low voice, she added, "She's so pretty."
Understanding dawned on the older mage. She's jealous! "My dear, I have lived at this court for many years now, and I must say that you are one of the most beautiful women to ever walk through these halls!" he exclaimed, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of the sitting mages. Daine looked mortified at the exuberant compliment, a pink blush spreading over her cheeks. He winked at her, willing her to play along. Jealousy was a game he knew well; he also knew how easily Numair fell into it.
Without taking his eyes off of Daine, he rose. She looked up at him, her breath rippling the waist of his tunic, and Lindhall did not have to fake the heat that came into his eyes as he looked down at her wide eyes, and lower, to where the curves of her breasts showed through her low-cut shirt. Daine blushed harder, feeling his gaze on her, and knowing that Numair was watching. She ducked her head to avoid both their looks, but quickly brought it back up as her nose came close to brushing the bulge in Lindhall's pants. Her eyes darted around for something to focus on, but trapped between the back of the chair and Lindhall's towering height, she had only two choices: Lindhall in front of her, or Numair to her left. The black haired mage had narrowed his eyes, and his mouth was set in a furious line; slowly, his hands spread wide across the table, he began to rise. Pretending not to notice, Lindhall gently took Daine's hand and brought it to his lips, forcing her to her feet to stand just a hair's breadth from him. "You know what I can give you?" Lindhall asked with a crooked smirk, his breath still playing against her fingers.
Not being able to find her voice, Daine just shook her head. Her curls fell over her shoulders, hiding the tops of her breasts from Lindhall's view. He let go of her hand, only to wrap his arms around her neck, tugging her hair out of the way. Was he always so… manly? Daine wondered to herself as her breath quickened involuntarily, excited both by the proximity of one man and the approaching footsteps of the other.
Lindhall stepped away from her, giving her room to draw a deep breath without her breasts pressing up against his chest. It also exposed her to Numair's hard stare, as he circled the desk and walked towards her. Seeing her flushed face and bright eyes, his expression turned murderous and he glared at his old teacher. Lindhall meanwhile had stepped behind Daine, pressing his toned chest against her back. Slowly, she could feel him raising his arms, until his broad hands were on her shoulders. "I could give you a massage," he finished, and she could almost hear the laugh in his voice. Daine, too, smiled, pretending she had not gotten carried away by their game.
She let Lindhall steer her back into her chair, and grinned innocently at Numair, who stood with his hands in fists at his sides. "Sorry," she said. "I was having trouble concentrating on the book."
"And what were you doing?" Numair demanded of Lindhall.
"Helping her relax," Lindhall explained easily, noticing that Kitten had left the room. "Just like I used to do with you, when you were my student. Or, was that so long ago that you don't remember?"
"It looked like a little more than that," Numair replied steadily.
"What, is an old buzzard like me not allowed to flirt with a pretty girl?"
"Not when that pretty girl is my girl," Numair defended. "And not when that old buzzard is not even forty years old."
"Oh come now, you cannot honestly believe that Daine would have eyes for anyone but you?" Lindhall accused.
"I think that a young girl can be easily led astray," he rejoined.
"I'm not a young girl!" Daine broke in hotly. "And do you think that you're the only one who can go and flirt with whoever you want?" She shook her head in Varice's direction, who looked amused by the situation, making Daine even more upset.
"So you were flirting!" Numair said crossly.
"And so what if I was? Weren't you?"
"No!" He paused, letting the obvious lie sink heavily into the air. Varice chuckled, a feminine sound that reminded Daine of how different they were from one another. How can he like us both? She thought as tears of rage built up in her eyes. In a calmer voice he continued, "Daine, you are my girl, and—"
"I am NOT YOUR GIRL!" Daine shouted, feeling like a child and not caring. "I am NOT yours, not when you sleep with her!" Absolute silence followed her outbreak.
"Daine, I would never—" he cut himself off, hurt in his eyes.
She knew she had taken it too far, but pride prevented her from taking any of it back. Instead, tears leaking down her face, she whispered bitterly, "Yeah, well, your servants talk too much." Spinning, she ran out of the room.
Numair looked wildly at Lindhall. "The do say that," the older man said quietly, looking at Daine's retreating figure. When she was out of sight, he turned to face Numair, his face drawn. "Seriously, you must have heard them. They've spread all over the palace!" Numair shook his head. "Honestly, now."
"I didn't hear!" Numair roared, his patience gone.
"Well, what did you think was going on, then?" Lindhall retorted, also angry. "With you not engaged and going past thirty, your beautiful once-lover in your room 'til all hours of the night, what did you want them to say?"
"Daine said she wanted to wait, she thought that she was too young for me!"
"And how many years ago was that, Numair? Five?"
"I thought she would bring it up, when she was ready…" Numair replied feebly.
"Since when did a girl propose marriage for herself?" demanded Lindhall, outraged. "Numair, can you hear what you're saying? It's excuses! You decide everything you do for yourself. It's always your own decision, Numair, you know that! You've known that since you were ten."
Slowly, Numair turned to face Varice. "Did you know about these rumors?" he asked. Weakly, she nodded. "And, did you try to stop them?" he continued icily. Varice looked at him, her hopeful expression making him sick. "No, I don't suppose you would," he all but spat. The air around him tingling a ferocious black, he turned on his heels and raced after Daine.
But, Daine had long ago disappeared.