Description: Numair begins his research on how to court Daine but is that what she really wants?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Everything belongs to Tamora Pierce.

Author's Note: If you haven't noticed by now, I really enjoy tormenting Numair either from his friends or Daine's advances. He has this very sweet and noble idea of courting her but without taking into account that she isn't going to go along with it.

Chapter 4

The kingdom celebrated the Harvest festival on August 1st placing the first fruits onto the alters of Mithros and the Goddess. Talk quickly changed to the celebration ball that would be held at the end of the month. Court ladies discussed the elegant gowns they would wear as they began to eye potential dance partners and men they wished to acquire for husbands. Life in Corus had well and truly returned to normal.

Numair had temporarily put his thesis on hold in favour of writing up his notes on the Immortals, but he fully intended to return to it. The mage had continued to wake before dawn every morning to place a flower on Daine's door and that had made the Wildmage the talk of the palace. The young woman had started out denying any knowledge of who placed it there, but after a severe interrogation from Onua she's accidentally let slip that she didn't want to tell anyone just yet. That opened the flood gates for every single one of their friends to bombard the young woman with questions which she valiantly ignored. When Daine refused to answer they hunted out Numair and aimed their questions at him instead.

"You wouldn't happen to know the name of the young man who is courting our Wildmage would you?" Thayet had cornered the mage on the way to the dining hall.

"Even if I knew his name it's not my secret to tell, Your Majesty," he responded mildly.

"Do you who's courting Daine?" the queen probed.

He smiled conspiratorially, "I have some idea of who it is."

Thayet narrowed her eyes at him. "You're not even going to give me a hint?"

The mage chucked, "I'm afraid I would not reveal Daine's secrets even if you were to order me, Your Majesty."

"You're no fun," the queen scolded but let him past.

While Daine found it mildly irritating that everyone had taken an interest in her love life, Numair was thoroughly enjoying himself. The only one of their friends who hadn't tried to interrogate him had been Alanna, but she wasn't usually concerned with gossip.

The mage sat in his rooms one afternoon perusing one of the courtship books on his desk when Daine entered without Kitten in tow. Numair suspected the dragonet must be harassing someone else currently. The young woman frowned when she noticed the subject of his current reading material.

"You're not still intending this foolery, are you?" she complained as she perched on his desk. "I've got enough people asking me about the orchids as it is."

"They're interrogating me as well, sweetling. You have to admit, it's amusing," the mage grinned up at her.

Daine huffed out a breath and moved to sit on his lap looking at the book he was reading. "I'm still hoping they'll lose interest and stop asking about it. What's this one say?"

Numair tucked an arm around her waist resettling her. "I doubt this will appeal to you. It's a very old custom, but I was finding it a fascinating read."

"Why won't I like it?" she asked sounding offended.

"This chapter talks about a practise where women would offer sweat soaked apples to the man they desired. If the man in question were to consume the apple, then he would be exposed to the woman's scent."

"That's disgusting!" the young woman exclaimed. "Where would a woman even get a sweat soaked apple, anyhow?"

"Evidently the woman would place apple slices in her underarms during a ball. At the end of the night, she would offer the sweat soaked apple slices to her partner," he explained.

Daine twisted to glare at him. "I am not doing that!"

Numair chuckled at the look on her face. "It's no different than your animal friends using their scent to mark their territory or their mates. Cats, for example, use the scent glands on their feet, cheeks, face and tail to mark their territory by rubbing themselves against it. You will have observed them around the palace rubbing up against a certain human to mark them as their own to warn off potential rivals."

A slow, mischievous grin spread over the Wildmage's face as she shapeshifted into a tabby cat on his lap, wriggling out of her shirt. Numair laughed as she proceeded to rub herself against his chest and face before sitting before him lashing her tail with a smug expression on her face. The mage grinned at her, highly amused, as he reached out cautiously to stroke his fingers against her cheek. For him, shapeshifting was a skill he'd acquired, but for Daine it was a part of who she was and over the years he'd been very careful not to touch her when she was in animal form. The Wildmage was connected to the People on a deeper level than most people were aware of, but Numair knew and accepted that his friend was only partly human.

The Daine-cat closed her eyes and began to purr softly as his fingers gently caressed her face and ears. As he made his way down her spine the purr got louder as she lay down on his lap. The mage grinned down at her as he idly stroked his fingers through her fur and picked up his book again.

"There are the more ordinary customs, of course, but I am no good at writing poetry and you do not want to hear me sing," he chuckled to himself. "I could serenade you with my flute?" The mage looked down at his friend who was stretched out purring contentedly and possibly not hearing a word he was saying. "Sweet?"

Numair stopped stroking her until she gave him a decidedly disgruntled look and rubbed her head against his fingers again. The mage laughed at her having no idea what sort of boundaries this was crossing. He kept his fingers polite, only focussing his attention on her back and head.

"The Maren people have an old ritual where unattached men and women gather of an evening around a bonfire. The women sit at a spinning wheel while the men, draped in a ceremonial blanket, circle them serenading using various musical instruments. If the woman takes an interest, then she offers the man a stool to sit on." He flipped back a few pages to something he'd read earlier. "One of the ancient tribal customs involved knives. When the girl came of age, she would wear an empty sheath at her belt. If a suitor took a liking to the girl, then he placed his knife is her sheath. If the girl returned his interest, then she would keep the knife."

That one had seemed a little too on the nose for his liking. He was trying to find ways to show Daine he loved her not to insinuate he wanted sex with her.

"In some of the fishing villages I believe they still offer ornately carved spoons to a loved one," the mage continued. "The carvings all have specific meanings such as an anchor which denotes a desire to settle down, or chains which signify loyalty and faithfulness. There's also a custom still practiced today called bundling where the courting couple share a bed fully clothed. They place a board or a cushion between them, the idea being that they would talk and get to know one another. This was usually done in the woman's home –"

Daine sat up and extracted herself from his fingers and meowed at him pawing her clothes. The mage took the hint as she jumped off his lap and headed to the bathroom. Numair collected her clothing and placed them on the floor, closing the door politely behind him and returning to his book. Picking up from where he left off, he found a passage that appealed to him as the young woman reappeared, fully clothed.

"I want to try that last one you mentioned," she said taking the book from him. "The one about lying in bed together?"

"Bundling?" he asked amused as she nodded. "Traditionally that was done in the woman's bed with her family present."

"Your bed's closer and we're supposed to be keeping this a secret, remember?" she pointed out reasonably.

It was hard to argue with her logic even while his own mind started to have misgivings about this. Numair followed her as his pulse started and race and his palms became sweaty when they entered his bedchamber. This room was supposed to be off limits while they were in his rooms together. The mage found himself wishing Kitten would burst through the door and provide a form of chaperon.

Numair cleared his throat as Daine turned to face him. "So, how do we do this?"

He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and walked to the right of his large canopy bed. Very slowly the mage sat and removed his boots before turning to face his friend who had already removed hers. Numair lay back on the covers focussed entirely on his breathing until the young woman climbed up beside him and snuggled into his side.

"Daine! We're supposed to lie beside each other with a cushion between us," he protested.

"This is better," she argued as she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist.

Numair closed his eyes, taking steady breaths as he wrapped an arm gently around her. If it had been anyone else, he might have been suspicious he'd just been manipulated into bed. Looking down at her grinning face, the mage realised that's exactly what had just happened, only for Daine, this was unlikely to be about sex.

"Who talks first?" she asked.

"I don't think it matters," his voice was steadier than he'd expected it to be. "Would you like to start?"

"I don't know what to say."

"Tell me something about you that I don't know," he offered.

Daine's hand moved up to his chest as she thought. "Umm… my grandfather was the one who taught me how to shoot my very first bow?"

He tweaked her nose. "You told me that when we first met travelling to Corus."

"Well, it's difficult," she complained. "You know pretty much everything about me."

"Let's see…" the mage thought as his fingers stroked up her back. "When I first joined the University of Carthak I worked a water spell and ended up flooding the entire classroom. Instead of being kicked out, like I'd imagined, I was congratulated and started taking advanced classes."

Daine giggled. "When I was a baby, Ma said birds used to perch on my crib and sing me to sleep."

"I can imagine that," Numair smiled at her. "I come from a long line of cloth merchants. I have four brothers and two sisters, and I have eight nephews and seven nieces whom I've never met. I am the first Draper to have the Gift and become a mage."

"And are they proud of you?" she asked.

"No," the mage answered dispassionately. "My father would have preferred that I follow in the family business. Since I fled Carthak and changed my name, he prefers to think that I do not exist. My mother writes to me once a year and tells me how the family is doing."

"You don't see them at all?" Daine looked up at him shocked.

"No," he shook his head. "My family and I don't get on. I was never abused as a child. I was just too – different."

The young woman held him a little tighter saying nothing for a few minutes. It didn't bother Numair that his family didn't accept him. There had been a period in his life when he would have done anything for their approval but he'd long since given up on that ever happening. Instead, he focussed on the people around him who appreciated him for who he was.

"I used to look at every man who came to our village regularly and wonder if he was my father," Daine said quietly.

"At least you finally know the identity of your father," the mage stroked her back as his heart clenched, remembering the promise she'd made when they'd left her parent's house. "When will you see them next?"

"Ma said they'd come visit for the Autumn Equinox," she replied.

He swallowed painfully. "Will you return with them?"

She shook her head and clung to him, burying her face in his chest. Numair knew Sarra had invited him to visit, but he wasn't certain how genuine that offer had been. He doubted the king would happily part with his Chief Mage and Wildmage for an entire season let alone two. Was that what was upsetting her? Did she think Their Majesties wouldn't allow her to visit with her parents? Numair decided he'd have a private word with Jon and persuade him to at least allow Daine to go.

There was one thing he needed to tell her if they were discussing secrets they didn't know about each other. "Daine, I –" His throat closed, and he could find the words to tell her what had happened in his fight against the Scanran mage. "If anything were to happen to me, George has the deeds to my tower. They will transfer to you in the event of my death."

"What!" she sat up and twisted to look at him her stormy eyes outraged.

Numair sighed "I wanted you to have it – so you would always have a home."

"You can't give me your tower!" the young woman argued.

"Who else was I going to entrust it to?" he said gently. "My family would have no interest in owning it."

"Thom. He's your Godsson. And he wants to be a mage."

"I imagine George and Alanna will find Thom his own tower once he's old enough, one that's not quite so close to his parents' home." Numair took her hand in his and kissed her fingers. "Daine, I've had this in place since the first summer we spent with the Riders."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" she demanded.

"At the time I hadn't expected to be fighting in a war for our very existence," he told her seriously. "I didn't think it would be relevant for many years to come." Daine still looked like she wanted to refuse. "You love the sea, sweetling, and you don't have a place of your own yet. This way, at least, you and Kitten will always have a place to live."

"It's still not relevant. You're not dying for a long time yet." She scowled, poking him in the chest before flopping back onto the bed and cuddling into him.

Numair kissed the top of her head and held her tight. He had to find a way to tell her he'd died and been brought before the Great Gods and soon. The longer he left it, the harder it would be to tell her.

"I can't think of anything else you don't know," the young woman commented as her fingers stroked his silk shirt.

The mage smiled. "Shall we go back into the other room and continue updating the information we have about the Immortals?"

"I'd rather stay here. This is nice," she rubbed her cheek against him.

"It is," he smiled at her warmly.

Daine grinned, tightening her fist on his shirt and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around her deepening the kiss as her hand slid down his chest. Numair caressed her lips tenderly not paying attention to her hand until she touched bare skin. The mage jumped and broke the kiss frowning at her when he discovered she'd unbuttoned his shirt.

"Daine," his voice lowered in warning. "I did not agree to this so you could seduce me into bedding you."

"I know. You're too honourable for that," she smiled up at him while her fingers trailed maddeningly through his chest hair sending shivers down his spine. "It's one of the things I love about you – even if it's fair frustrating sometimes."

He caught her fingers and griped them tightly. "Stop that," he said roughly.

Daine blushed as her face fell. "You usually go for mature, experienced women and I – I don't really know how to do any of this."

Mithros, Mynoss and Shakith she was attempting to seduce him! "You didn't have any problems flirting when you were in Carthak."

"I wasn't flirting with anyone when we were in Carthak!" the young woman scowled.

That was up for debate. Numair released her hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he rolled onto his back again. "When a young woman laughs and smiles with a young man that can sometimes be interpreted as flirting even when the woman does not intend it."

"So, I can't smile or laugh?" she asked crossly.

"No, I'm not saying that," he sighed. "You're a beautiful young woman, Daine, and very open with your emotions. You don't try to conceal what you're feeling. If you feel an emotion, it's written all over your face. It's one of the things I love about you." He raised a hand to caress her cheek. "I think you'll find you're far better at flirting than you're aware of. And this –" he pointed to his unbuttoned shirt "is crossing the line into seduction." She blushed and looked away. "You've had enough boys kissing you over the past year. You had to know you were doing something right."

"But I wasn't doing anything!" the young woman cried in frustration. "They just wanted to kiss me – or bed me."

His face darkened dangerously. "Who?"

"Don't go all overprotective. I warned those one's off myself. My point is – I don't know what I'm doing. I want to show you how I feel, but I don't know how to do it."

Numair tiled her chin to look at him. "I'm trying to take things slowly between us, and you seem quite determined to push the boundaries."

"I want this with you," she said firmly. "When you kiss me like that or touch me – I want more."

The mage almost groaned. "Believe me, love, I know all about that."

The young woman chewed on her lip nervously. "But I'm scared – that you'll see me as a just a girl and want a woman instead. One who knows about canoodling and – things."

Hag's bones, had she looked in a mirror lately? He could hardly mistake her for a girl these days. "I've been with experienced women, Daine, and I don't want any of them. I don't care how inexperienced you are. I don't want anyone else in my life."

Numair leaned in and captured her lips in a lingering sweet kiss. She returned the kiss while her hand returned to his chest and began to explore tentatively. He couldn't help the moan that escaped as Daine pushed his self-control to the limit before they separated.

"Can we do this again? Lie in bed together and talk?" she looked up at him through her lashes. The mage would never tell her what that look did to him. He couldn't refuse her anything when she looked at him like that as he nodded weakly.

Numair kissed her forehead, willing his heartrate to return to normal. "There was a custom I was reading about that interested me, before you suggested this."

"What's that?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just a moment." The mage slid his hands into her hair and very gently removed a single hairpin, showing it to Daine. "The man wears something belonging to the woman he loves to display his loyalty to her." Numair rolled onto this back and carefully attached the hairpin to the cuff of his left sleeve and showed her the finished result.

The young woman rolled her eyes at him and shuffled off the bed. "You're fair daft. We should probably get some work done before dinner."

The mage sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face, rebuttoning his shirt with trembling hands. If Daine didn't have any idea what she was doing to him then he was in a lot of trouble. Numair had naively thought that he was going to be the one in control of the intimacy between them and he was only just realising how mistaken he'd been. The mage had never expected to see such desire in Daine's eyes that had only been a part of his dreams until now. She was a terrifying blend of innocence and maturity that he wasn't entirely sure how to proceed.