Sergeant Domitan of Masbolle cursed the early morning watch as he pulled on his clothes one morning in late October, bleary-eyed from sleep. He curses increased in number as he hit his hip on the side of his desk as he walked past. The pre-dawn light was hazy as he walked out into the cold morning air, tucking his breeches into his boots and trying not to yawn every ten seconds.

In the stables, he and his men saddled up their horses in relative silence. The nine other men of the early morning watch all covered yawns of their own. Despite their tiredness though and their cold, numb fingers they carried their tasks out quickly and efficiently, readying themselves for the watch ahead. The early morning watch was not the most coveted by a wide margin and Dom found himself longing for next week, when he and his squad were on the afternoon watch.

As the group filed out of the main gate, the light rain that had been going on and off all night started up again. It turned the dirt into gritty mud that flicked up from their horse's hooves. As they trotted down the beaten ground that served as a road up to New Hope's walls Dom was treated to several drops of water sliding off his helm and dripping down his back. He grimaced, but soldiered on. The squad rode into the woods that ringed the town he defended.

After several wet and slightly miserable hours later, they headed back through the trees. The rain had not let up as the morning had progressed and there was nothing Dom wanted more than dry clothes and a proper breakfast. He took responsibility seriously though, and didn't allow himself to daydream as his eyes scouted the surroundings. That was how he noticed the figure curled up under a large tree to his right, fifty yards or so away.

Dom stopped the squad with a hand signal, thinking quickly. The figure was dressed up in Scanran furs, lying on his side in the damp grass. An ambush? Battle victim…? He motioned for two of his men to go and assess the situation, and to be wary. Giordan and Khalaid slid from their horses quietly, Giordan retrieving a small axe from his belt and Khalaid taking his bow and arrows with him. They slunk towards the prone figure, keeping an eye on the woods beyond. Dom watched as Giordan checked for vital signs and Khalaid scouted around the area. After a minute or two, Khalaid gave the sign for 'All clear'.

Dom and the rest of his men joined them by the Scanran. He dismounted.

"There's a weak pulse there, Sergeant." Giordan reported, meaning the figure lying between them. "And Khalaid says there's no sign of any trouble. I disarmed the Scanran." He spat the word 'Scanran'. Giordan's father had been a soldier killed in the War at the beginning of the previous summer, when Blayce's killing devices were still active. He disliked them more than the average Tortallan as a result.

Dom nudged the figure with a booted foot. No movement. "We better take this one with us." He said, unsure. Kel ran the town of New Hope and he didn't know what she would want done with an unconscious Scanran. But they couldn't leave him there. Had he been here all night? In the cold October air, Dom wouldn't bet on his chances of survival if he stayed outside in the chill any longer. When skin he could see under the furs was pale white. His organs could already be shutting down from the cold.

He knelt down, water from the wet ground immediately soaking through the material of his breeches. He scooped the Scanran up, grimacing as even more water seeped through his clothes as he slung the foreigner over his shoulder and carried him over to his horse.

Sometime later the squad slunk, cold and wet, back through the gates that guarded the town of New Hope. Dom headed to the Infirmary with his burden once again slung over his shoulder. Neal was there, eyes closed, healing the arm of a teen boy. Dom relieved himself of the Scanran on one of the cots and waited until Neal was done with the youth.

While he waited, he examined the patient in closer detail. He had taken the wet fur hat off to try and prevent him from catching a chill, which had uncovered wet, matted locks that would probably be blonde once they were clean and dried. His face, like the rest of him, was coated in mud, so it was hard to pick out any features. Under all the bulky furs, Dom had been able to feel when he picked him up that the lad was too thin. How long had he been out in the forest?

He was startled out of his reverie when Kel strode in with Tobe on her heels.

"Giordan told me." She said before he could ask. "He said you found a Scanran in the woods?" Her words, like always, were crisp and business-like. They didn't match her eyes, which always gave the impression that her thoughts were a million miles away.

"Yes." Said Dom. "I wasn't quite sure what the protocol was, but I couldn't leave the lad to die in the cold, even if he is Scanran." He appealed to the caring side of Kel's nature. He knew she could never resist a stray. Her eyes roamed the room until they fixed on the occupied cot. She strode over. Dom joined her. Neal joined then, finished with the boy's arm. He set about removing the wet clothing from the Scanran.

Dom started to leave, his task of bringing the foreigner to the Infirmary completed. "Not so fast. Both of my assistants are sick today, I need your help with this one." Neal ordered before he could make his escape. Dom sighed. Breakfast would have to wait a little bit longer. He returned and set about removing the worn boots. They were too large for their owner and had rubbed his feet, leaving angry red blisters over the heel and toes. Kel helped by untying the chords holding the furs and removing the belt at the Scanran's waist.

Neal touched the prone figure's wrist, sending his gift into him. Dom imagined dark green fire spread through the veins and tissues and organs, assessing any damage. He busied himself removing the boy's sodden breeches, before locating the Infirmary's store of blankets and laying them over the pale legs. He tucked them in at the sides so the boy's own body heat would reflect and heat the boy up.

Neal took his hand away. "He should be fine. He obviously had enough furs on to keep his organs from shutting down and there are no injuries. He has a touch of hypothermia, but I could cure that in my sleep." He smirked. Kel had removed most of the layers and now was applying blankets in the same manner Dom had. Under all the mud, he could see his colour was improving a bit, from white with prominent purple veins to a slightly healthier pink-white. The light blue colour in his lips was fading and giving way to a rosy pink under all the mud.

Kel was tucking the blankets around the Scanran's neck when Dom saw her stiffen. Her hands were on a thin metal chain around the boy's neck. She slipped it off over his head for a closer look.

"What've you got there?" Neal wanted to know. He plucked the necklace from Kel's fingers and his spark of recognition was obvious to Dom. He watched as Neal looked to the figure lying on the cot, before looking back to the necklace. Dom looked at it, but it didn't mean anything to him. It was just a small pendant hanging from a chain.

"What is it?" he asked Kel and Neal. Was that a slight blush he saw cross the bridge of Kel's nose under her freckles?

"It's a charm." Neal explained hesitantly. "A charm against pregnancy."

A/N: Haven't tried a Tamora Pierce FF before, so leave a review to tell me what you think. Even if it is 'Jeez, you suck at this.' Anything's welcome; I need to know how to get better, don't I?

Thanks!

Pepper xxx