Sometimes Kit thought she had been one of the first people to know.

Daine had finally come home after weeks of working in one of the Scanran refugee camps. The girl nearly cried when she saw her ward and for hours she wouldn't stop cuddling her. Kit nuzzled closer to the flat curve of the woman's belly and suddenly heard the rapid flutter of a second heartbeat.

She whistled curiously, and pressed her ear back again. Daine scratched her neck affectionately, and the dragon cooed at the ticklish sensation.

"What is it, Kit?" she asked, her voice a tired burr. She could finally relax, now that she was safe and at home. Kitten made a rapid chattering sound, but of course Daine couldn't follow it. She could work things out, but she had to have enough clues to know the topic. Kit pointed at her mother's stomach and asked a question with her eyes, but it was clear that the girl didn't understand.

"I'm sorry, love." Daine yawned and rubbed at her eyes. "I'm fair slow and sleepy. How about you ask me tomorrow?"

They went to bed, and a few hours later Kitten awoke with an indignant squawk when Daine suddenly sat bolt upright and pressed her palm to her stomach. Eyes wide in the darkness, the girl scrabbled with her other hand at her neck. Her fingers tangled in the single chain which hung there – one strong enough to hold the heavy silver claw which she always wore – but that was all her searching found.

"Oh!" said Daine.

888

"It's been far too long since I've seen you." Numair knew people were watching, but he still couldn't resist drawing her closer for a kiss which was heated enough for some passing soldiers to whistle and shout out catcalls. Daine blushed and laughed.

"Um, yeah. About that. It's been… A few weeks at least, hasn't it? More than a month. But not as many as two months. Maybe… six weeks? Seven?"

"Six." He smiled and ruffled her hair. "I'd tell you how many days, but if I recall correctly you teased me for keeping count last time we were apart."

"Oh, I'm not teasing…" she said quickly, and blushed again. Another group of soldiers wandered by, calling out lewd comments, and she looked away. "Numair, can we get out of this courtyard?"

"What's wrong?" he caught her chin, suddenly serious. Daine shook her head.

"Nothing's wrong. I just want to get away from here. Away from other people."

Kitten followed them at a distance, keeping her head low. She knew her mother's moods well enough to tell when Daine was being secretive. If she had been a human, the dragon thought snidely, she would have hidden her frank curiosity better than Numair was. He looked torn between confusion and amusement, although as always when Daine did something strange there was a hint of worry there, too. Daine seemed so unsure of herself that she couldn't even decide where she was going - as often as they found a secluded nook, she would decide that it wasn't private enough, or flinch away from a comfortable corner because someone spoke loudly in the next room.

"Is this private enough, Daine?" He asked finally, as if the words had forced their way from his lips. "Because unless you're planning on actually tunnelling into the ground or something next…?"

She turned and ran a hand through her hair, looking distracted but so utterly serious that the joke died half spoken. Numair caught her wrist. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Numair," she muttered, half to herself, and then squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I need you to tell me all those reasons why we should get married."

"What?" He burst out laughing. "After all the times you told me to stop pestering you, magelet? You do know I've been travelling for six days, don't you?"

"Please." She asked it gently, and took his hands in her own. "It's important. Please. I would wait until you've rested, really I would, but it's important."

"Alright." He smiled and stroked her cheek. The things that he said were familiar to both of them, but Daine's eyes still softened when she heard the eternal tenderness in his voice, "We should get married, Veralidaine Sarrasri, because you and I love each other more than… more than words, honestly, even my words. We should get married to tell the whole world and all of our friends that it's going to last for the rest of our lives. We both already know that. We want to share the rest of our lives together and be each other's family."

"Yes," she murmured, and her eyes shut. "That was it. They're good reasons."

"Clearly they're not brilliant," he said a little dryly, "Otherwise you'd agree."

"I always have agreed!" She retorted, with a touch of laughter in her voice. "You know if I said yes or no it wouldn't mean any of those things are less true. And you know that if I… if I said yes, I'll marry you, it'd be because I love you and because I've always planned to say yes, just… just that I haven't felt ready."

"I do know that," he sounded wary, but watched her closely when she took a deep breath and said:

"So if I said yes it'd for all those reasons first and front-most, but… but if you asked me to marry you again now I… I wouldn't rightly be thinking of those reasons."

Numair paled, and then went a little red, and when he tried to say anything he choked and tried to hide it with a laugh.

"If I took one thing from that bizarre comment, love, it's that you still need to tell me what's upset you."

She sighed and looked up at him. "Gods! Can't you just ask me to marry you first?"

"Why should I?" He returned, and then grinned ruefully at his own ironic stubbornness when she rolled her eyes at him. "What a charming expression, Miss Sarrasri. I am enraptured! Tell me, my love, will you…"

"Oh, if you're not going to be serious then I won't tell you anything at all." She huffed, suddenly frustrated. "I just didn't want to tell you before in case it made you think I was only agreeing because…" She bit the words off suddenly and shook her head, getting ready to storm away. "Forget it."

"Daine." Numair stopped her and his voice was quiet, but there was an undercurrent of iron in it. "I'm not going to propose to you when you're hiding something from me, especially not something that's clearly unnerved you so much you can't even talk about it without babbling. If you said yes to me tonight I'd be expecting you to change your mind by tomorrow."

"I won't." She said mulishly.

"Then tell me why, Daine. Tell me the truth."

She blinked at the ground, and her fingers unconsciously rose to begin playing with the claw necklace.

"In about eight months," she managed to whisper, "You're going to be a da."

He froze, and Daine looked up, her eyes shining. "I wanted to give you a chance to be a husband, first."

888

The second time was rather different, and Kitten didn't even have to sneak around to overhear it. Numair had been working on a project with some of the castle mages, which involved them fiddling with the chamber of the ordeal. They almost tiptoed around the room, treating it with deference and respect, and only their wide eyes showed the absolute awe they felt at the magic entity's great power.

A squire had died, they all knew it, and they also knew that there wasn't much to be done. The boy's parents were upset, though, and had demanded that the chamber be studied fully to make sure the boy's trial had been just… or at least, that his death had been reasonably painless. The other mages made some half-hearted effort, while Numair and Lindhall seized the chance to study the Chamber with open glee. For days they even slept in the room, comparing nightmares in the morning and even studying the goose bumps on their skin with ardent fascination. They both grew thinner and gaunt from the bad sleep, but the academic interest never failed.

Daine stopped by the chamber a few times but left as quickly as she could. She hated the odd growling sounds and smell of smoke that the room sent to her and the promise of nightmares that it held. She tried to urge her friends to at least sleep in their own rooms, but they were oblivious to the slow damage the Chamber might cause them. She had nightmares anyway, imagining long, dark trails of chaos burrowing into her husband's eyes until the whites turned black and oily.

"Come home," she tried again the next day, tugging at his hand. He frowned and shook her off, the gesture more absent than deliberately hurtful.

"I won't get another chance to do this, Daine." The patience in his voice was the worst thing, as if he were explaining something to Sarralyn rather than to his wife. Daine flinched back from that tone and found that she was suddenly furious.

"Fine." She snapped. "If you won't come home now then you just stay away, see if I care!"

For the next week she pointedly ignored the man, not even reminding the cooks to take him food or answering Sarralyn's babyish questions about where her da was. On the eighth day she was hurrying down the hallway towards the stables when she nearly tripped over something in the hallway. She skidded to a halt, shifting the weight of Kitten in her arms and the baby in her sling.

"They look heavy." The something said in a distant voice, and then it roused itself. "You should get one of those infant baskets."

"It's not worth it. Once I get to work she's fine sleeping in the hay." Daine answered automatically, and then put Kit down and leaned closer to the something's face. "Lindhall, you look terrible."

"Yes, I'm worn out." The man nodded slowly and blinked. It looked as if his eyes were rhimed with treacle, the lids moved so sluggishly. "I don't know how your husband does it."

"He does it like a selfish idiot." Daine muttered, taking out her handkerchief and wiping a fever-sweat from the man's brow. "He burns himself out and then I end up looking after him. And it looks like you're no different, Master Lindhall."

"It's very interesting work." Lindhall insisted. Daine kept her face completely blank.

"I'll help you to your rooms."

"No, I got myself into this state. I can get myself to my own bed." He smiled easily and waved her away, and the his expression turned more serious. "I couldn't convince him to stop when I did, Daine. You need to speak to him."

"I tried that." She looped her arm around his back and helped the man to his feet. He smiled gratefully and despite his previous words, didn't protest when she started walking him back along the corridor. Kit padded quietly at their feet, looking back curiously towards the chamber.

"There must be something you can say to him." Lindhall persisted, staggering as they rounded a corner. "You're his wife!"

"No, when he's in this mood I'm nothing." She said with bitterness clear in her voice. The man sighed.

"You are upset. I did wonder. You know that's not true."

"Do I?" Daine said impassively, and rapped on a wooden door. A maid opened it, and gaped in horror as her master was unceremoniously dumped into her care.

Kitten whistled a question, and Daine sighed when she looked down and saw the perplexed expression on the dragonet's face. "Yes, of course I'm going to do something. For all I know he's passed out in the fire and too tired to work out why his feet are on fire." She scowled and scrubbed at her face with one hand, thinking quickly.

Numair was not passed out, but his skin was so waxen it looked raw. He clearly hadn't changed his clothes since she had stopped bringing him spares, and the dirty fabric was crumpled and hung off his lanky form like a rag. Daine rolled her eyes, knowing he was too caught up writing up some report to even notice the door creaking open. As she watched, he shivered, scratched fitfully at his nose, and then returned to his work.

Well then.

Daine didn't bother saying hello, or even looking around the room at the huge array of magical things. She planted her hands on her hips and studied her husband in silence for a long time.

"Numair," she said, "I'm pregnant."

He barely looked up. "No you're not, you already had the baby, remember?"

"I'm fair sure we've slept together since then." She folded her arms and scowled at him. "Are you so caught up in your magical thoughts that I have to explain to you how this works? When an annoying dolt and a woman love each other very much…"

"Yes, yes." He muttered absently, and then a cold shock seemed to run through him and he shivered and looked up. "Wait… are you serious?"

Daine laughed and shook her head impatiently. "Gods, Numair, is that all you have to say? Well, forget I said anything. I shouldn't interrupt your precious work."

"Daine – "

She shook her head again and turned to leave. She'd made it out of the door before she heard him struggling to catch up, and when he caught her wrist his grip was so feeble she shook him off easily. Because it was Numair, and because his thoughts often made it out of his mouth before he considered what they might sound like, he demanded, "Daine, tell me you're lying."

She paled and kept walking, biting back a hurtful reply. Her words sounded clipped, terse, and tearful. "I'll not say another word to you until I'm home."

"I just meant..." he started, reddening as he remembered what he'd said, "I didn't mean I wouldn't want... I just thought it was a lie to get me to leave the... Daine, sweetling, please stop and talk to me."

Daine kept walking and without looking around, she said, "It hurts, doesn't it? Wanting just a few words and not even getting a sideways glance. It really, really hurts."

He fell silent, and when she risked a peep he looked deeply ashamed. Good. By then they had reached their home, and when Daine stopped to unlock the door she felt a hand cautiously touching her shoulder. This time she didn't shake it off, but she didn't acknowledge it. When he followed her into the room she locked the door behind him, opened the window, and threw the key out onto the grass.

"There." She said, dusting off her hands. "Even if you wanted to magic the lock open you'd have to get a few nights' sleep first."

He gaped at her, and then sank into a chair and looked up with an oddly impressed expression on his otherwise stunned face. "So it was a lie?"

She folded her arms and glared. "Numair Salmalin, if that's the only thing you've got to say to me I'll make sure they're the last words you ever utter."

He flushed. "Of course I'm sorry, Daine. You know I am. But I don't want to barter secrets for apologies. I've behaved badly whether you're pregnant or not, which... Daine, for the love of Mithros please tell me if you're really pregnant."

"I'm really pregnant." She said immediately. He breathed out in a rush and collapsed back against the chair. Unable to resist getting in one last gibe, Daine added, "...and you would have known that days ago, if you'd bothered to speak to me."

He held his hand out, and she took it. His skin was cold and clammy, but she didn't mind so much. While half of her mind was planning on lighting a fire and making some nourishing food, the other half was just happy that he was home.