::Disclaimer:: None of these characters, places, or whatsoever else belongs to me. This is total fan fiction.

Chapter One

"One, two, three," Numair counted under his breath as he tossed the rocks in the air. "Four, five…" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a child tug on his mother's hand, dragging her towards him. A bored shopkeeper wandered outside to watch him. Yes, he thought grimly, come and watch me juggle. Come watch me juggle and don't forget to bring your purses.

He sighed inwardly. A while ago, he could not have cared less bout the street rats anywhere, least in a country not his own. A while ago, he would not have been juggling of all things to earn money for food. But then, a while ago was indeed, a while ago.

It had been seven months, or eight – one looses track of time when your only goal every day is to stay alive – since Ozorne had signed his death warrant. Traitor, he cursed Ozorne, may Mithros strike you dead. Once he had heard of the signing, he had had no choice but to flee with nothing save the clothes on his back.

He had crept on board a merchant ship sailing east. Unable to use his magic to conceal, for fear Ozorne would track him, Numair was found and dragged out by the crew. He scowled while he juggled, still able to feel the tight, heavy chains on his ankles forbidding his escape. He had managed to pick the locks in the end, using a slight wire he pulled from the trading barrels.

While the ship was anchored a few miles from shore, waiting for the morn before docking, he had leaped over board and swam off. The guards at the port questioned his arrivals, their bright eastern eyes narrowed suspiciously. Opening his eyes wide, he had sworn before the gods that he had fallen from the merchant ship and that everyone aboard was asleep. Silently, in his heart, he begged forgiveness from Mithros and prayed that a lightning bolt would not strike him dead at that moment. Telling tales had always been a gift, though rarely necessary, from childhood and the guards showed him the way to the nearest inn.

Early the next morning, he had slipped out his room window, leaving a note explaining that they could collect the bills from the merchant ship due in at noon that day. It was petty but the revenge gave him a little satisfaction.

A small tinkle brought his mind back to the present with a quick start and the rocks slipped from him. A snigger came from the small crowd in front of him and he could see a richly dressed man lift his head in his direction. "Amateur," he said contemptuously.

Numair ignored the obvious noble, and bent to pick his rocks. He smiled at the child who had dropped the penny on top of a minute pile of coins at his feet. "Thank you," he said, voice hoarse from lack of water. The little girl smiled back and ran off. The small crowd in front of his began to disperse when they realised his act was done for the day. The noble who had commented on his juggling stalked off with a woman dressed in rich silks. As they walked by him, crouch on the ground, gathering his pennies, the woman dropped a gold coin for him. He looked up and she smiled at him, lowering her lashes slightly before sweeping by.

A gold coin and seven pennies, he counted. "Why, it's a feast tonight," he muttered to himself, tone bitter. He would find an inn, a nice cheap inn, and have a good dinner, the best in a while. And if there was any money left, he would buy himself a used shirt in the marketplace. The one he was wearing at the moment was threadbare, and the alleys were always windy at night.

When he walked into the warm and cozily lit inn, the innkeeper greeted him cheerily and led him to a table. His wide smile never faltered, even when Numair asked for a table closer to the fire. "Of course, of course," he replied and complied. "Now how can we help you?"

"Food. Whatever I can afford with a gold coin," he asked. "And please, a glass of water."

The innkeeper left and returned with a plate of meat and white grains, called rice. Numair blinked when he also placed a small goblet filled to the top with rich red wine. "Excuse me, sir, but you may have the wrong – "

"The lady over there sent this with her greetings," the innkeeper told him before leaving, still smiling widely. Numair glanced up. He saw the noble's lady who had dropped the gold coin earlier. Once he had caught her eye, she drifted over, followed by a staggering scent that left men in her wake staring.

"All alone?" she asked him huskily, lowering herself onto the chair opposite his. He nodded, dropping his eyes. He never minded when ladies approached, but the noble she was with could still be around; he'd rather not do anything to call attention to himself.

"My thanks for the drink," he told her, still keeping his eyes on his plate of food. "I appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure," she replied, smiling flirtatiously. Lightly, she touched his hand but he pulled it back gently. Before he could excuse himself, a man hurried into the inn's dining hall. Numair noticed that it was the noble the woman had been with. The noble made his way towards Numair's table and spoke to the woman, hardly seeming to notice Numair.

"June, they've an emergency for me at the watch house. You go straight up to bed, and don't wait up for me. I'm sure I'll be away for the night. Don't worry, alright?" Numair snorted inwardly, while quickly scoffing his food in case the noble noticed him and had him kicked out of the inn before he had finished his dinner. It had been well rehearsed, well practiced, but it was a lie nonetheless.

June stood up gracefully and took the man's hands in her own. "I won't, dear. Don't work too hard," she assured him. Kissing him on the cheeks lightly, she bade him goodbye and watched as he made his way for the door again.

As soon as he had left the room, she turned around and sat back down. Numair debated whether to tell her he was lying, but before he had come to a decision, she spoke calmly. "He's gone to meet his mistress. He does it every time we pass this village." Not trusting himself to speak, Numair said nothing. She looked into his eyes, her own sparkling invitingly. "Lonely?"

If only you knew, he thought to himself but once again said nothing. Instead, he stood and offered his arm which she took eagerly and they made their way upstairs, past the smiling innkeeper.