AN: Here is the "before July" update that some of you requested. Note the last updated date. okay, this should not be necessary, but this is just a reminder that this fic is rated T so yeah… On a good note, you get Numair's pov again. Yes, back by popular demand, Numair's thoughts! Only I edited this chapter so back by not-so-popular demand, typos!
Disclaimer: see other chapters
Chapter 14– War and Wings
The journey to Scanra was a long one and they had to travel by mage power against the currents of the River Drell. At one point, the current grew so strong that a couple of the mages used up their Gifts and Numair had to step-in. Even he was nearly drained in the battle to keep the boat afloat. For several days he lay stretched out on a bench on the boat's deck, beside Daine, right where she could keep an eye on him. They were in such close quarters that it was hard to avoid her excessive concern for his recovery. Not he thought stubbornly that I had anything to recover from.
The leaders of Scanra greeted all of the Tyrans with a warm welcome. Daine and Numair, however, were on the cooler side of that welcome as they had not— and rightly so thought Numair— yet earned places as King Kristopher's trusted companions. That meant that they, along with the assembled troops of Scanra and Tyra were made to sleep in military tents outside on the palace grounds. In one of those tents, Numair sat in meditation. He was aware of Daine moving restlessly around him touching him occasionally because the tent was hardly large enough to hold its suggested number of occupants– one. Especially if that single occupant was five inches over six feet tall. Despite the close quarters, he managed to block her out along with all other distractions. There was only his magic. It swirled inside of him, burning like black and silver fire though every fiber of his being, but he was still in control— always in control. That magic which held the power to open the earth and swallow armies was his to command to the simple task of bearing a cloak to its stand. He let himself become absorbed in the peace that control brought him, that peace which kept other, more worrisome, subjects from breaking into his mind.
But no matter how much peace he may find in meditation, reality forced him to open his eyes and accept his present situation. The first thing he spotted was Daine, in the corner of their tent, nervously running her teeth over her bottom lip. He knew that expression– he had so often sought to do away with it– she was trying to repress fear and worry. He moved to her side and placed his arms loosely around her. She settled into his embrace; mutually they decided not to end the moment with words.
Finally, he took her by the shoulders and looked at her, dark eyes merging with blue. "Daine, it will be alright." He promised her; wanting to crush the fear he had seen her struggle with since they left Tyra.
"How do you know?" She retorted, taking her eyes from his and instead staring at the blank canvas walls of the tent.
"I know because the greatest risk is yours and Daine I swear I won't let anything happen to you." He tightened his grip on her shoulders slightly for emphasis, bringing her eyes back to him.
"Numair, its not that simple." She said with impatience. "You can't let your own guard down to help me. We both know that. This depends on our strength as individuals, not our abilities as a team."
He sighed. Sometimes he forgot that she was not a naïve young girl. He wondered if she was ever really a naïve young girl. She had seen enough of war to know that sometimes even his best efforts failed them. "You're right, Magelet. Forgive me if you thought I was trying to give you false confidence, I only meant to keep you from worrying."
"I know," her expression softened, "and I didn't mean to be so cold. My worries got the better of me."
He offered her a warm smile. "I require no apology from you, dearest. Its only that I–"
"That you what, Numair?" She placed a small hand on his cheek.
"That I love you, and I don't know if I could ever go on without you." Once again he pulled her close to him, this time tilting her chin so that he could gently caress her lips with his own.
She felt tears building in her eyes but pushed them back. She said simply, "I love you too," then moved closer so that she was practically in his lap; their kisses grew deeper the nearer she got. He felt the familiar sensation of desire creeping through him like a fast working poison. She pulled away to look at him, her blue eyes drunk with a mixture of lust and confidence. He pulled her back to him, feeling himself succumb to her, despite his better judgment. It amazed him that a man capable of controlling a Gift as strong as his own could have all of his self-control melted away by one lovely young woman. Tentatively he moved his mouth from her lips to her neck. One of her hands left his hair and moved under his shirt. He mimicked her, sliding his hand first along her back and then up her stomach until he felt the underside of her breasts. She shifted against him, causing his hand to slide back down her body, but when he felt her lips on his ear it nearly broke though his final level of resolve.
"Daine," he moved away so that he could look at her again "I think—"
"Numair," she cut him off, pulling him gently back to her, "for once could you not think."
There was no way of answering that except to take her back into his arms and pull her onto his bedroll.
They traveled by foot and horseback for five days to cross the border and enter Tortall. Despite knowing that they were there for a less-than-friendly purpose, Numair couldn't help but feel a sense of calm as he entered his home country. It seemed almost comical to him that he could have been born in Tyra, really grown up in Carthak, and yet it was Tortall that was his home. That was where he had really found a place to belong. He glanced over to the young woman beside him. Tortall certainly housed his best memories. His mind flicked to the night before they left Scanra. Well, almost all of my best memories. Daine glanced over at him.
"What are you grinning about?" She placed her hands on her hips, trying to look severe.
"I was just thinking that it is good to be home." His words did not have the affect he hoped for. Her face fell and she looked almost close to tears. "Magelet, what's wrong?"
"Numair even—" she hesitated, looking around at all of the potentially watching eyes and listening ears surrounding them. They would be fools not to expect that King Kristopher had spies watching them. She leaned her head against him in a seemingly affectionate way and whispered in his ear. "Even if we are successful, we are still facing a war."
He looked at her, knowing exactly what she had not said aloud. A war that could separate us, a war where one of us could be hurt… or worse, a war we might never return from. He knew she was right, as much as he didn't want to think about it. War always meant the possibility of the unthinkable. He recalled their tearful goodbye before the end of the Immortals War. He had hardly stood to let her leave him then and knowing how much closer they were now made even the thought of separation unbearable. He pushed it out of his mind. They would be fine, he told himself; they always were. He suppressed all other negative thoughts back from his mind.
Numair sat up abruptly during the night, sending Daine, who was resting her head on his chest, flying back onto the sleeping pad. "Ow, Numair what—"
He held up his hand, willing her to give him silence. "They're close."
"Who?" Daine mumbled crankily, rubbing the back of her head dramatically.
"The Tortallans– I can sense Duke Baird's Gift. He must be with them for healing"
Daine sat up abruptly, looking almost startled. She grabbed a discarded soldier's uniform from the tent floor and began haphazardly pulling it on. "Magelet, what—"
"I have to go, Numair, Blaine's waiting for me!" She cut him off, hurrying to leave the one-man tent.
"Daine!" He called after her.
She paused, a little confused, and then shook her head and rushed back to kiss him quickly. "Sorry, I'll see you again in the morning." She hurried to leave again, but, pausing in the tent doorway added "and don't think I'm done complaining about this bump on my head."
He laughed a little at her retreating back before lying back down to drift off to sleep again, this time without her warmth beside him.
Daine moved as quickly and silently as a panther through the camp and into her own, unused, tent. She mussed a few choice items, hoping to make the space look more lived-in before climbing into her own cold bedroll and faking sleep. As she had anticipated, a few moments later Blaine's voice came through her tent's canvas door. "Coming!" She called to him, grateful that he had not entered. He slipped through the door and she feigned a yawn as she crawled out of the tent.
He smirked at her, but did not comment. "We just got word from our lookouts. Do you remember what we discussed?" She nodded. "Do you need anything? Do you need to be somewhere elevated?"
"No, I can do it from inside of my tent." She tried to keep her voice neutral and not betray her distaste. "Did you speak to his majesty about shape—" Blaine was shaking his head.
"He doesn't think that would be– wise– at this point." He looked away from her; she too felt the awkwardness of his situation. "Well, I will leave you alone then. As a precaution I will be stationed outside your door." He gave her a sly grin. "I'll be sure to apologize to Master Salmalin in the morning for interrupting his sleep." He gave her the subtlest of winks before turning his back to stare off into the dark, sleeping, camp.
Daine returned with a sigh to her own tent. So, Kristopher does not trust me as a spy? She laughed a little, thinking of how ironic it was that the king would not trust her to spy, but he would trust her to sabotage a camp. She blocked those thoughts from her mind and settled into a meditative state on her tent floor and opened her mind and magic to the minds of the animals in the surrounding area. She found what she was looking for some long distance away– a kit fox.
Yes hunt sister? The little fox felt her presence.
I need you to find someone for me– a two-legger. She felt the fox agree. Also, I wanted to ask your permission to occupy your mind while you find the person.
Show them to me. Daine set to work instilling images and scents from her own memory and also from the memory of times when she had shifted into an animal of keener sight and smell. As she placed the images in the fox's mind she opened the link from her mind to the fox's. When she opened her eyes she found that she was not staring at the naked walls of a tent but at a forest draped in the darkness of night. However, the darkness was not as consuming as it should be, in fact, it was perfectly clear.
The fox, with Daine's subconscious attached sought the image in its mind. Daine watched through the fox's perspective as they hurried through the forest into a dark army camp similar to the one that Daine was actually sitting in. A familiar scent filled her nasal passages in a much stronger concentration than was typical. She told the fox to stop and she looked up to see two seemingly enormous horses and one, slightly less gargantuan, pony. Cloud! Daine was thrilled to see her closest companion. She recognized Spots and Darkmoon tethered beside her. Cloud, Daine spoke with her mind to the mare, I need you to untie yourself and the other camp horses. Tell them to move into the forest but not to go far, their masters will want them in the morning. The mare snorted, spooking Daine's host, and began mouthing the tie that held her. Quickly she was fee of it and set to work on her companions. Daine and her own companion continued on their quest. They came to a tent that was still lit. The fox slipped through the flap and found herself facing the match to the image and scent that Daine had put in her mind.
Sir Raoul jumped a little when he saw his guest but quickly came back to composure. "Daine?" The fox nodded. "Good, Jon said you would find me. Are the horses free?" Daine nodded again. "We are moving out at a delayed time tomorrow then, what those Tyrans don't know won't hurt them. Be sure that you and Numair wait for us to arrive before you attempt to flee." Daine, through the fox, nodded once again, frustrated by her lack of a more efficient method of communication. "Anything else?" A new gesture, shaking her head. "I hope you two are successful. We could really use both of your skills tomorrow. Tell Numair not to worry, we are prepared as any army can be against the likes of him" With no way to answer that Daine bid farewell to the fox after assuring it that the very large man in front of her would not do her harm. Daine returned to her own mind and fell into a restless sleep.
The morning came far too early for Numair. With no particular hurry he packed up his camp, regretting that Daine was not there to help him, as was usually the case. He glared moodily at the clear sky above him. A cloudy or foggy day would have bettered their chance of a clean escape. He frowned. Perfect conditions were perhaps too much to ask for.
Hours later as the Tortallans began to assemble on the horizon and Numair drew his magic around him. He sighed. Another battle. Battles have a unique way of turning his Gift into a curseA man nodded to him and he spread a cloaking spell across the combined Tyran and Scanran forces. That same man signaled to the archers who were camouflaged in surrounding trees. Numair could hear the sound of the arrows. He searched around for Daine, wanting to keep her in sight. She was on a small hill next to Captain Zelene. He saw the blonde man whisper something to her. Her expression changed and he could tell that she was using her magic, though she did not look entirely pleased. He could hear hoof-beats approaching quickly. The arrows were still firing. It's too soon for the horses to be moving out, the archers should still be working! Then he realized what Daine had done, knowing that it must be hurting her to put both her friends and the People in danger. He heard the sound of swords being drawn. The same man signaled to him again and he lifted the cloaking spell. He saw Tortall's horses turn around with the Tyrans racing after them. For a moment everything was chaos he grabbed his black opal, through the magical vision he saw Daine fumbling for her own opal. Captain Zelene beside her was directing troops on the ground. He saw her grip her pendant and close her own eyes. Numair nodded, knowing that she saw him and he began the somewhat painful process of shape shifting.
A moment later he had completed the change and saw a peregrine falcon fly over him. He took off with a few stiff flaps of his long black wings. Flying was never his specialty. He had learned to shape shift mostly because he had the power too, not because he had any real desire to become an animal. Though, he had to admit, it had proved to be useful from time to time. Despite his awkward strokes, he quickly caught up to the smaller Daine-bird. He flew above her where he could watch her, wondering if anyone had noticed that they were gone. They flew past the trees where the archers were perched. An arrow whistled past his ear. I take it they have noticed. The arrows got thicker and he increased his altitude, hoping to get out of range. They were now flying over the empty field where the Tortallan army had assembled that morning. With his keen hawk vision he could see their camp a length or so in the distance. He glanced to check on Daine and saw only blue sky.
AN: okay, before you say it I know that this chapter was not that good. I just couldn't get parts of it to work, but I wanted to go ahead and update. I swear I'll have better stuff next chapter. I will probably re-write this one once the fic is complete.