A/N: This is a somewhat more necessary chapter to set up the situation for the story to unfold. As much as I'd love to sit and write nothing but D/N drama, angst and canoodling (!), I fear it would feel a little hollow without a dramatic framework. But much angst and desire are brewing, have no fear!

Disclaimer: Needless to say…

Chapter 2: Reservations

Daine watched from her perch on a corner window-sill as important figures settled around her. For all her adventures over the last few years, she was not sure she would ever feel at home being privy to meetings such as these. To her right, the older Gareth of Naxen settled himself elegantly on a velvet-cushioned bench. To her left, violet eyes flicked rapidly around the room as the Lioness who held them moved impatiently from one foot to another. Lindhall Reed sat quietly at the back, Daine noticed with interest, one long hand propped under his thoughtful face. To the mage's side sat Harailt of Ali, and next to him Tkaa, who was whispering to the dragonet who looked up eagerly from her perch on the basilisk's left foot. Daine smiled. Around her others of importance continued to settle themselves, but of all present, Skysong looked by far the most excited; she clapped front paws together and croaked in eager anticipation.

Daine heard the padding of light feet on the richly-carpeted floor, and looked up as Queen Thayet slipped through the door to her right and stood by her side. Around them, the mages and officials moved quickly to their feet in some attempt at a royal welcome, but paused as Thayet swatted their gestures away with one hand, laughing as she did so.

"Gentlemen," came the Queen's honeyed soprano. "It's too late for such silliness." Daine grinned at this; she was not sure she would ever tire of wondering at the court's unconventional oddness, or its pair of warm and peculiar monarchs.

"It is I that must thank you for sparing some time this evening," Thayet continued. She looked around, offering smiles to those who met her gaze. "I know many of you have only just returned from Carthak." The Queen raised one delicate eyebrow in a look of simultaneous wit and grace, and Daine sighed with envy. "And of that, there is much to speak. I hear you were most…busily occupied."

From the corner of her eye, Daine could see Alanna peer over at her with a wide grin; needless to say, Daine knew the source of the Lioness's humour. Thayet's turn of phrase was diplomatic- and a gigantic understatement. Thinking of her actions in the southern country, and the Queen's careful response, Daine's face was caught in an expression somewhere odd between grin and grimace.

The girl brought her eyes back to the Queen, who clapped hands lightly together. "Hopefully soon we shall let you get back to your rest, and leisure. But first my husband craves a word with his most trusted and important subjects." She bowed lightly and elegantly, and then, diplomatic obligations duly dealt with, withdrew back to the wall and sat next to Daine. Girl and Queen smiled warmly at one another before their attention was drawn elsewhere. King Jonathan entered briskly, similarly waving away the hast moves to bow and stand.

"Ladies, gentlemen…dragon." Kitten chortled as the King proffered one of his more handsome smiles. Lucky dragon, thought Daine with a grin. She felt more at ease already.

There was a stunned silence as the King's carefully constructed speech drew to a close. Looking about him at the faces wearing expressions ranging from mild concern to barely-stifled anxiety, Jonathan sighed.

"Don't stand there looking surprised, Gary," the king chided the younger Gareth of Naxen, who leant against one wall looking studiously thoughtful. "You've been a part of this discussion before now." The King looked around. "As have several of you."

Daine swallowed hard, trying to take it all in. She was not, she realized for the hundredth time, well-versed enough to understand the complexities of Tortall's political state, though she had, an inner voice countered, certainly squeezed a lot into the last two and a half years.

Daine had read the hesitation in the King's eyes as he had spoken to them, so she knew he was prepared for concern, perhaps even an outburst. But she had also heard the stubborn and prideful tone in his intelligent voice. Jonathan had faith in his plans, and, with a shrug, Daine realized that was enough for her.

With effort, she tried to pull the various rhetorical and explanatory threads of his argument together, so they made sense to her. Firstly, King Jonathan was much concerned with the destruction various immortal groups had brought to his kingdom. Daine could understand that, she had both witnessed and fought against it first-hand. Secondly, he was keen to expand the work his mages were doing to understand both the ways in which these creatures had been brought upon them, and ways in which to manage the resulting chaos. Thirdly, Jonathan knew that the recent events in Carthak– Daine had blushed during this portion of the speech, staring intently at her toes- were reason enough to concern them all with the constant danger of lands who promised peace, but quietly threatened violence.

And his solution? The creation of a magical safe-haven, a training ground for magical learning and exchange that would, most controversially, not only accept but welcome those who came from outside Tortall, even those, the King had admitted, whose loyalty to Tortall was as yet unproven.

There had been silence, but now murmurs warmed the room. Glancing up, Daine realized the King had been expecting this. He held up one hand, palm open, as if welcoming their views. "I know I may not silence the voices of discontent," the King spoke gently.

There was a pause, and then: "Majesty?" It was Raoul, commander of the King's Own, whose bulky frame barely fit into the chair that sought to accommodate him. "Jon," the knight continued. The King smiled thinly. "Am I right in thinking you mean to share our most powerful secrets…" he gestured quickly to Alanna, to Harailt, and to Numair, who Daine now saw against the shadows of the furthest door, broad arms crossed at his chest, face impassive. He's so good at being sneaky, Daine thought absentmindedly. She had looked, of course, but had not seen him enter.

Raoul continued: "…that you mean to share our greatest magical assets, our valued and secret weapons, with those who may prove to be our- Tortall's­- enemies?"

The King sighed. "Numair is a black-robe, Raoul; he is hardly a secret weapon. If you are concerned about attack, a display of our strengths should intimidate opposition, not encourage it."

Daine swallowed, hard. She had seen enough 'displays' of patriotic brilliance in Carthak to last her a lifetime. She was not sure she liked the thought of recreating them here.

"But your Highness"- it was Lord Martin who spoke now, his sharp eyes concerned. "I must confess that I share Goldenlake's reserve. You mean to extend welcome to mages and scholars from…Galla? Maren? The Yamani Islands…"

"Yes." The King's voice was firm. "That is exactly what I intend."

"But your Majesty…" A third voice arose.

Daine looked over the scene in silence as more concerns were raised, and combated by the King. What were his intentions, one official asked. Jonathan explained his desire to expand their own knowledge and, significantly, to aid Tortall's allies against immortal attacks, so that they might be stronger together. Daine nodded at this. Yes, she thought. If we reach out a hand to them that need us, teaching them how to look for signs, and fight back, we might rely on them, too, to help us if we need it.

The discussion, mainly between senior officials and the King, continued for almost an hour; Jonathan, Daine noticed with admiration, remained firm and unwavering.

Finally, a gently voice emerged from the back of the room. Lindhall Reed was not a loud man, but he drew silence from the crowd. "Your Majesty, if I may…" The King smiled, and nodded. "Forgive me, a humble outsider, for entering the discussion of your own many learned men…" Now Daine smiled too. Numair's former teacher was fiercely intelligent, but he was also genuinely and disarmingly charming.

"You are one of us now, Lindhall," the King encouraged. "Pray tell us what is on your mind."

The older mage wrapped a long finger around his nose and Daine, startled, suddenly realized the origin of a gesture that she had seen time and time again, one that seemed to her uniquely Numair.

"It occurs to me, your Majesty," Lindhall said, "that- hypothetical philosophizing aside- we have not heard from those actually in question." He paused, before continuing: "those mages that would be leading, indeed sharing in this…most fascinating prospect."

"Indeed, Lindhall." Jonathan's gaze moved over the room. "Our most powerful weapons in magical combat are in this room. Numair…" He glanced at the mage, who nodded soberly. "Harailt." A second nod. "Alanna." This time, a wry smile and a raised eyebrow over penetrating violet eyes which met the King's gaze. "And of course," the King finished, turning his face towards the window where she sat. "Daine."

The girl in question had clearly not been expecting this. Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

Kitten trilled rudely. Oh dear, thought Daine vaguely, feeling as if her stomach had just dropped to the floor.

From his position by the door, Numair watched his student's cheeks burn crimson as she felt herself the subject of a room's powerful gaze. Coughing lightly, he brought the attention to himself momentarily as he crossed the room, easing into a seat between Daine and the Queen. With a small smile, Thayet inched over to make more room.

Numair, from his new vantage point, looked up at the King. "I must admit, Jon. Your suggestion is…intellectually thrilling. Some of us will simply need time to absorb the magnitude of what you propose." Even without looking at her, Numair could feel Daine smiling up at him in relief; he knew she was thankful no longer to be the object of so much attention.

As Numair spoke, Daine felt his hand rest gently at the nape of her neck, cool fingers exerting the lightest pressure, a reassuring and gentle touch. Immediately she softened, remembering the way he had shielded her with his Gift exactly the same way, when she was first getting to grips with her wild magic and needed to converse safely with a Griffin.

Later that night, in bed, Daine would realize that this time, in fact, he had not used his gift at all, but that something in his touch alone had instantly soothed her; and she would blush again at this second, more ambiguous memory.

The tall mage and his student walked slowly to the fields below the main stable. Daine looked mostly at her feet as they walked, scuffing her toes in the gravel, marking her territory, it occurred to her with a smile, as if she were indeed one of the People.

Reaching the fence, the girl hopped up easily, turning around to face Numair, who came to stand by her side. Daine smiled; only with this extra, wooden height advantage did she come even close to being at his level.

Numair could feel her smile in the dark. A small smile touched his own lips, as he thought: it fees good to be with her again. He had wondered at his capacity to be normal around her, and had almost broken down earlier that evening and told Alanna that he was not sure how to be with her now that he had come so close to losing her in Carthak. She was, he realized, his own little paradox: he had not dared to face her because he could not face the thought of losing her, and because he could not face the implications of this fear.

Now, she sat beside him, silent, and he was reminded of this: the easiness of their relationship. And watching her from across the room in Jon's study, he had felt without even realizing, the natural desire to look after her. Recognizing her embarrassment he had gone to her, and he had sought to alleviate it. It was not saving her from Ozorne, but it was something.

Daine enjoyed the silence for a little while longer before she spoke. "What do you think of all this, Numair?" They had both been silent since leaving the meeting, each knowing the other's desire to wait until they were alone before discussing it.

White teeth flashed in the dark as the mage finally grinned. "I think Lindhall was right," he said. "I think it is indeed a most…curious and enticing prospect."

Daine smiled. "Just think," she mocked gently, "you get excited enough with your own books and spells. What will I do when there are everybody else's for you to be distracted by, too?"

"Magelet, I am wounded."

She nudged him with her elbow. "You are not, and I know it."

He laughed softly, and Daine thought, suddenly, how musical it sounded. She was not sure if it had occurred to her before.

"What do you think, Daine?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, and paused. "It does seem exciting. What if there are others out there with wild magic like mine, that I might understand…"She broke off suddenly, thinking of her past, of her ma, of running with the pack, of her curious non-mortal da whose very existence she could not bring herself to examine further…Her mouth formed into a grim smile. Of course there would be, could be, nobody who could share all that with her.

She looked over at Numair, who was tugging at his nose, deep in thought. "How would you feel, sharing your knowledge, your…experiences with others?" he asked her.

Dine shrugged. "It seems sensible. It seems wise," she added. "I've always made a fair mess of speaking up for the People"- she thought fleetingly of Dunlath- "but it would be different, interesting, to speak of it with those who might understand, who wouldn't think me…crazy."

This sobered the mage. "They would not dare to think it," he replied, the slight edge in his voice an unspoken warning.

Daine reached up and pulled at one loose curl as she thought; it was a bad habit Numair was trying to break her of, but tonight she had other things on her mind. "I don't…" Her voice was hesitant. She could feel Numair turn to her, feel his eyes resting on her face as he waited patiently for her to be ready, and something in the gift of this gaze enabled her to collect her thoughts and continue.

"I don't know what it will feel like to sit with all those mages, Numair, as if I were powerful like them." She blushed, and shook her head as Numair opened his mouth to protest. "It seems a bit like…" She paused, wrinkling her nose as she tried to find the way to explain herself to him. "It seems a bit like magical nakedness."

"Magical nakedness?" There was amusement in his voice, and she blushed.

"Yes."

"That is a most interesting image, Daine."

Daine sighed. "You know when I shapeshift, I'm always…without clothes when I return to my form?"

Numair was glad that the darkness covered his blush. "I had noticed," he returned dryly.

"Well…don't you think there's a reason? Unless it's the own Gods' laugh at my expense," she muttered, fingering the claw that lay at her throat.

"A reason? I hadn't given it much thought," Numair replied, thinking: well. That is almost true.

Daine shrugged. "There's something a bit…intimate about it, isn't there? Something private."

Numaor realized with a jolt that for all his intellectual curiosity, he had never really wondered what it must feel like to have her power. To have a power that was so akin to losing control, that was so much a part of her that to reveal it must, he suddenly understood, feel a little like exposure every day. This new realization grounded him. When he had first met her he had been so amazed and so curious regarding her untapped and wild power, he had given little thought to the magnitude of what it would mean for her to become what he so haphazardly called her: a little mage.

Perhaps his teaching had saved her, in a way; it had certainly enabled her to harness her power. But, he realized, feeling the thud of a quickening heart in his chest, the circumstances that she now found herself in- a royal maglet, with royal duties and the gaze and attention of important figures- were a direct result of the teaching he had given her. Without him, she would have been a far more private individual, leading a far more private life.

For a moment, these thoughts, and the thought of her vulnerability paralyzed him. Finally her voice broke through the silence, and the loud thud of his heart beating loudly in his chest.

"Numair?" She sounded desolate, far away.

"You've shifted in front of people before," he offered finally.

"Of course."

A pause. "And nobody need see you do it, not if you don't wish them to. It's your body, Daine."

"Yes, but…It's not really the shifting I mean, Numair, it's…" She sighed. "Odss bobs, this is hard to understand!" The pair remained in silence a moment while Daine gathered her thoughts and scattered memories, struggling to knit them together to make sense.

"When I first had my magic, it was running free, wasn't it?"

"As it's namesake," Numair agreed. When his student looked up quizzically, he smiled. "It was wild," he offered in explanation.

"Wild," Daine murmured slowly, as if running the word through her mouth in order to examine every aspect of its meaning. Next to her, Numair was remembering the Daine he had first met, the girl with tangles of copper threads running angrily through and around her: a most powerful and hypnotic pain.

As if Daine could see this too, she said: "I was…all over the place. And then you helped close me up, Numair."

He looked at her, sharply. "Close you up?"

"I mean…" She struggled to find the words. "I was all higgledy-piggledy, and confused. Your helped rein me in, you helped collect up my magic and weave it back inside of me, where it belonged. You put a shield up around me," she said softly, finally. Numair nodded, suddenly unable to speak.

"I want to learn how to share," Daine continued quietly, so quietly that he wondered if she still spoke to him, or rather for herself. "I want to learn others' magics, and for them to understand me, and mine. But…" She fidgeted slightly on the fence. "What if, when they learn from me, when they look at me with their magic, deep inside like you did, I get all opened up again, all higgledy-piggledy and…"

"Daine." He had reached over, and she felt his finger touch her cheek, fleetingly. "I would never let that happen again. I promise."

Daine could feel the fear tug at the back of her skull as she stared up at the sky. "You promise?" she whispered.

"Yes, magelet. I promise."

A/N: Many thanks for getting this far! This is my first fanfic, so do please let me know what you think if you have the time, encouragement is always appreciated!