A/N: Question-what's the age difference between Sam and Lirael again? Somehow I'm getting the impression that (and I'm not sure whether it was specifically mentioned in the books or not) Ellimere's older than Lirael/very close in age to her but Sam's a little younger than Lirael. Would really appreciate if any kind soul can tell me if their relative ages were mentioned in any of the books, but if not, I'm just going to assume a two year gap between our(my) favourite heroine and hero :)

I'll be taking some liberties with Nicholas Sayre (needed him out of the picture) and Lirael will be a little OOC.

Just to be explicit, this will NOT be incestuous...though Sam's dilemma still stands (you all should probably be able to hazard a guess how that figures ;))

Thank you (thank you thank you) for all your wonderful and heartfelt reviews-they give me warm fuzzies and motivate me, truly :)

Disclaimer: Garth Nix owns everything but the plot. He destroyed my dream of Lirael and Sameth's babies :'(

Like Fictions You Would Make

"You're screaming

and cursing

and angry

and hurting me-"

-Epilogue, by the Antlers

Staring out into the night-time view from their perch on the roof, Lirael contemplated Sameth's timely rescue from Jonathan with a ghosted amusement, and subsequently an appreciation of their indefinable relationship, which, in retrospect, had of late evolved into one similar to the close bond she and a dearly beloved black canine once shared.

And there she went, diving headlong into Melancholy again. Perhaps matron-dom had infiltrated her being already, after all?

Inwardly amused at her cynical soliloquy, she barely caught her companion's-Nephew's ( it still felt too strange a concept that she was Aunt to he, who was barely any younger than she was)-words.

"-you been, Lirael?"

As she pondered his words, a subconscious part of her was grateful for the fact that he hadn't taken to addressing her as 'Aunt' so blatantly; the use of her name over the familial title brought to mind the period of their voyage and all their companionship stood for. Then she puzzled at the uncharacteristically sentimental nature of the question as it sunk in-for rarity it was, of their dynamic.

It seemed that he understood her puzzlement, for when he spoke next, his words, uttered quietly, were all the explanation required.

"I just miss...everything."

And then it hit her, triggering a cascade of realisations-why she, a lone-ranger by nature, had come to accept and appreciate his companionship and presence so readily; the inexplicable yet irrevocable strings that linked them together-and she later on came to ask herself why she'd failed to notice it earlier: they'd been two peas in the lonely pod all along.

She should have realised sooner: he was the younger child, unwittingly cast to the shadow of his sister's accomplishments. And though not lacking in parental affection, it was obvious that he had not much opportunity for the companionship of a friend since they returned to the safety of the palace, with Nicholas away on his own quest for self-discovery.

The next instant, as if conjured by some magical wind, there came an unmistakable voice of someone she'd only ever heard in her dreams these days; "He misses you, O daft mistress of mine."

The voice held the same dry, affectionate, familiar timbre, albeit tinged with an echo that hinted at a vast distance of separation; and for a moment, the familiar prickling in her eyes threatened to bring forth tears of longing for her old friend. Just as abruptly, a warm blanket of comforting something descended upon her.

Drawing a silent breath of fortitude-as she knew Dog had intended for her to do-she resolved to reach out to him-for she once had Dog to keep her afloat her reservoir of solitude; he'd not the buoy she found in her canine mentor-figure.

With these dual epiphanies, she began to perceive the implications behind his subdued demeanor and sudden mood-swings between the brooding Sameth who remained the crux of her sister's worries, and the Sameth who had just whisked her out of a horrendously awkward encounter and currently stood reminiscing beside her.

"Me, too."

And so she gave her belated verbal reply, the two spoken words voicing a simple oft-uttered agreement, yet the fact that she even provided a verbal response was uncharacteristically sentimental for someone of her disposition; and she knew he understood it perfectly.

Later on, as they strolled together back in the direction of their respective chambers to retire for the evening, she found just how much of a hurdle it would be to take on her endeavour as she internally struggled with an impulsive idea that leapt into her mind. It was obvious enough, apparently, for he picked up on her inner conflict and waited patiently by her door when they came to a halt at her room.

By the light of the flickering torches, she could see the curiosity in his eyes as they scanned her mien. It was well warranted, she conceded wryly-considering how out-of-sorts she'd been that night. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and determinedly focused on the stone-bricked wall behind him while voicing her question, "Will you...teach me self-defence?"

She could feel his surprise even without looking at him.

A/N: Reviews are love :) And Happy, Peaceful Christmas (or Hanukkah) to everyone!