I still have quite a few ideas for future oneshots, but if anyone wants to see Numair and Daine in a specific situation, let me know. This is set several weeks after Realms of the Gods, but before the start of the Protector of the Small quartet.
"…Just returned from a tour of the Yamani Isles. We wouldn't have dreamed of sending her there, but her father heard a rumour that there may soon be negotiations for a Yamani bride for Prince Roald. If this comes to pass, she will fit in beautifully at Court. She will be a credit to her husband if, of course, she has married by that time. Although I doubt that there will be difficulty in finding a husband, my Lilith being the beauty that she is. By the way, Master Numair, if you just asked my Lilith for a dance tonight, I'm certain she would be thrilled to oblige."
All around the room, people laughed and talked, taking delicate bites of the elaborate desserts that had been set on the tables only a few minutes previously. The banquet progressed beautifully, oblivious to Numair Salmalin's torment. By some horrible stroke of misfortune, he had been seated next to the matriarch of one of the lesser noble families. All of her kin would benefit enormously if only a marriage between her eldest daughter and the famed black robe mage could be arranged, and so for the last hour she had talked incessantly of her daughter's achievements, her beauty, and her elegance.
He had to concede that Lilith, who sat two tables away, was indeed beautiful. Thick, treacle coloured hair was set in a complicated bun at the back of her head, held in place by glittering pins. No fault could be found with her features, which had been accentuated with kohl and rouge by an expert hand, although her lips were set in a constant pout, as if she were forever on the verge of crying. A silk burgundy dress clung to her curves, drawing the eye. But even as Numair looked at her, in his mind he could see only smoky brown curls, blue-grey eyes, and lips that smiled rather than trembled.
Across the table, Raoul of Goldenlake grinned wickedly at him. The hulking knight, who had recently earned himself the title "Giant-killer", was notorious for shirking social gatherings of any kind. This banquet was no exception. He had argued that the war was barely over, that he should hunt down the remnants of the enemy that still hid in the country rather than attend a fancy victory celebration in Corus. Eventually, the combined efforts of Jon and Thayet had worn him down, and he had agreed to attend the banquet. He had spent most of the night dreading the moment when a mother would sidle up to him, and begin to 'hint' that her daughter would be perfectly suited to him; but tonight it seemed that Numair was the target.
"Of course, you are still a bachelor aren't you, Master Numair? I expect that now that dreadful war is over, you shall be looking for a wife."
Raoul couldn't prevent the laugh that escaped his lips, and quickly covered it with a hacking cough. "Where's Daine tonight? I haven't seen her." He said, perhaps taking pity on the mage.
"She's in the stables," Numair replied, relieved at the chance to escape this horrible conversation. "One of the mares went into labour, and it was more than Onua could handle on her own."
"Lucky for some," the knight muttered.
"Daine," the matriarch said sharply, perhaps fearing a rival for her daughter. "Who is Daine?"
"Surely you know our Wildmage," Raoul said.
Relief passed over the woman's face before her nose crinkled in disgust. "Oh, her. In my opinion, she shouldn't have been invited in the first place. It's hardly appropriate for her kind to attend a grand gathering such as this."
"Her kind?" Numair asked, his voice dangerous. Raoul opened his mouth to warn the woman that it was best to stay silent, but then changed his mind. Perhaps this would teach her not to pounce on every eligible bachelor, and he would have one less matchmaking mother to worry about.
"You must have seen her, Master Numair. She's forever covered in filth, and even animal mess! Besides which, she's a common-born ba-" She broke off, finding the word too distasteful for her tongue. "Well," she resumed, "let's just say that her mother was free with who she invited into her bed, and, if the rumours are to be believed, the girl is no better."
Out of the corner of his eye, Numair saw Raoul wince. This woman was either a stranger to Court or oblivious, or she would have at least known that Daine was Numair's student, even if she hadn't heard about the change in their relationship.
"Madam," Raoul said quickly, "The young lady you speak of is a personal friend of Master Numair."
She looked aghast. "Oh, Master Numair, you must forgive me if I have given you offence!"
"You do not owe apologies to me, but to Daine." Numair said, sounding much calmer than he felt.
"But-"
"If you wish to make amends, please do so by remaining silent as I correct some of your poorly formed opinions of my friend." Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself before continuing. He had heard Daine insulted countless times by both nobles and servants over the years, but he never got used to it, and it never made him any less angry. "Firstly, it is not for you to decide who does and does not attend these gatherings; that privilege belongs only to the King and Queen. Concerning this banquet, if it hadn't been for Daine's actions during the war, there would be far less people still alive to attend it, if we had cause to celebrate at all."
Raoul nodded approvingly. As someone who had fought in the battles, he knew just how much Daine's actions and alliances had swayed the war in Tortall's favour. It was Daine who had brought the animal gods into the fight, Daine who had mapped their opponent's positions on the back of a dragon, and Daine who had faced Ozorne with nothing more than a badger's claw and emerged victorious.
Numair looked briefly at Raoul, silently thanking him both for his support and his acknowledgement of Daine's work. "Secondly," he continued, "there is no doubt concerning Daine's parentage. Her father is Weiryn, northern god of the hunt."
"No!" The woman cried, a smirk playing around the corners of her mouth. "I would have thought that an intelligent man like you wouldn't have been taken in by such a lie, Master Numair."
"I have met him," he said quietly, "and heard him acknowledge her as his daughter." Taking advantage of the stunned silence that followed, he ploughed on. "Finally, Daine is my student, my friend, and my love."
The woman stuttered, choked by outrage and disappointment. Raoul raised his eyebrows at Numair, who shrugged in response. Announcing his love for Daine like that was sure to have the gossips' tongues wagging, but it hardly seemed to matter. Their relationship seemed to be the worst kept secret in the whole of Tortall. If it wasn't bad enough that Alanna and Jon had walked in on them, they later discovered that Onua had deduced their secret by the way Numair had held Daine on the journey back to Legann, and several people had witnessed their passionate farewell embrace before Daine had departed for Legann.
Deciding that if he was in for a copper then he was in for a gold noble, Numair turned back to the woman and said, "Consequently, I will not be asking your daughter for a dance tonight."
Raoul promptly turned red from the effort of suppressing his laughter. Muttering an excuse, he exited the hall as quickly as courtesy allowed. Sighing, Numair awaited the torrent of outrage that was about to pour from the woman. What he heard instead was, "Filthy beast! Are there no rat catchers in this hall?" The creature that had disgusted her was not a rat, but a mouse. The woman aimed a kick at it, but Numair cried out for her to stop, trying to prevent her from hurting the animal. He lunged to grab it, and pull it out of harms way.
The mouse deftly avoided both foot and hand; instead it launched itself onto Numair's breeches, and began to climb his leg. By the time it reached his lap it was no longer a mouse, but a soot-black kitten with white paws. "Hello dear one," Numair murmured down to the kitten, beaming. She bumped her cheek affectionately against the hand he offered her.
Turning back to the outraged, astonished and insulted matchmaking mother, Numair said, "May I introduce Daine? Please excuse us; she requires privacy to resume her normal form." Scooping the Daine-kitten up in the palm of his hand, where she was quite dwarfed, Numair rose and strode quickly from the table, leaving the woman to splutter behind him. Two sets of eyes, one pair violet and the other blue, watched their exit.
Numair headed straight to his rooms – or, rather, their rooms. After leaving Legann, they had been granted a week of glorious relaxation at his tower. They had argued that they shouldn't be exempt from the vast clean up operation, but Jon had firmly told them that they had done more than enough for the time being, and that everyone could cope perfectly well without them for a week. After seven days of living together, they had decided that they didn't want to resume living separately upon their return to the palace. As he had the most spacious quarters, they agreed that Daine should move into Numair's room. They made the move quickly and without fuss; any vicious gossip was quickly stopped by a threatening glare or word from their friends. Living with Daine required a certain amount of adjustment; every now and then he would wake with a cold, wet nose pressed into the small of his back, and his resolve not to take the step of becoming lovers until Daine felt comfortable enough to suggest it was certainly harder to keep now that they shared a bed. But he would never revert to living without her. Knowing that she was always there, knowing that her welcoming arms and soft lips awaited him at the beginning and end of every day, more than made up for the petty inconveniences.
Arriving in front of their door, he paused, his key halfway to the lock. Something was different, although he couldn't determine what. Daine meowed quietly in his hand, asking why they had stopped. Before he could answer her, his mind finally registered what had changed. When he had left for the banquet several hours ago, the brass nameplate on his door had read: Numair Salmalin. New words had appeared on the plaque. Below his name, in neat letters, was engraved: Veralidaine Sarrasri.
Lifting his hand, Numair brought Daine to an eye level with the plaque. After reading it, she turned in his hand, cocking her head and letting out a meow that he could only assume was startled. "I'm not sure who did this, Magelet," he said quietly.
"Do you like it?" A voice at his shoulder asked.
Numair started, and turned to find Alanna. She was dressed beautifully for the banquet, although he could see that she had refused to don a dress. A red silk shirt edged with gold fell over black breeches, and her hair had been put up simply but elegantly. A wide grin was spread across her face. "Did you do this?" Numair asked, startled.
Alanna nodded. "After I found out about you two, I didn't really get the chance to say how I feel about your relationship. Between mopping up the enemy immortals and cleaning up the mess they made, there wasn't much time to talk. I hope that this," she gestured at the nameplate, "says it for me."
Numair was genuinely touched by the gesture. It showed that not only did she believe what he had told her about his feelings for Daine, but she didn't object to their relationship, even their living together. It meant a lot that one of his and Daine's closest Tortallan friends approved, and went to such lengths to demonstrate it. "Thank you, Alanna," he said solemnly.
Now beaming, Alanna looked towards Daine. "I suppose I'll have to wait to hear what you think."
"Not necessarily," Numair said, chuckling. He beckoned for Alanna to come closer, and raised the hand that held the Daine-kitten to her face. As she heard Daine's loud purrs, Alanna began to laugh.
