Disclaimed

A/N:

First order of business: Upon re-reading and much thought, I have decided that I am unsatisfied with the previous chapter, and I'm going to revise it later. The same events happening, but I'm going to write it in a different way, I think. For now, just discount the whole 'sugar' thing, I'm not going to use it.

Second order of business: Okay, I'm asking for BRUTAL HONESTY in reviews on this one, because it is a huge turning point in the story –okay fine, so the plot would really be the same, but this is a whole big… thing!-- and I feel terribly self-conscious about this chapter… so please, tell me everything!!

This chapter is dedicated to Alanna Roseguard, and to Brady, though none of you know him. Some of you I have told about him however, and just know that a crucial character in this chapter is modeled after him. **looks dreamy-eyed**

Last Time: Ara, Aevaesel, Luthar & Elasia went through a magick door and met Lorn, we met Daemon and Jaenelle's middle child, Jaene, and Nickolaes got grumpy because he had to clean up a mess in the Library.

*~~~Chapter Twelve: Midnight Snack~~~*

Later that night

Aravian whistled as she went down the steps to the vast kitchens of Ebon Askavi. Looking around at the emptiness, she realized that the cook and his helpers must have long ago gone to bed. She hadn't thought about how late it was. No matter though, she was perfectly capable of making a sandwich.

She hummed a little Winsol song as she lay out all her various ingredients, having too much energy after their fantastic meeting with Lorn. Her mind revolved around the massive dragon, enchanted with the fact that she'd met him, when she didn't know anyone except the adults who had. She was also particularly entranced by the idea of the magic door. She was sorely tempted to go wake Daemonar, or Lucivia or even (or maybe especially) Nickolaes and brag. If it hadn't been for her promise she would have.

She did a little Winsol dance step as she cut a piece of bread.

"What are you doing up?" Aravian jumped when she heard the cool male voice behind her, turning quickly with the knife she'd been using brandished. It was somewhat less impressive as it was smeared with mustard. Then she realized who it was giving her such a sardonic look from the stairway.

"Hello, Nickolaes." With great dignity, she turned her back to him and continued making her sandwich.

He snorted, but Aravian refused to turn around only to see how amused he was. He walked the rest of the way into the kitchen and came up beside her, to where she had everything she was using laid out. Glancing over out of the corner of her eye she fought down the urge to blush; it really would be a doozy of a sandwich when she was through. She bit the inside of her cheek, cursing her fair skin. Why should she be embarrassed when he was the one standing there looking all rumpled in just a purple silk robe and pajama bottoms? Nickolaes never looked rumpled. Apparently late at night—err, early in the morning was the exception. Then again, glancing down at herself, a blue tank top with white pajama bottoms and a terry cloth robe, altered to accommodate the winged form, weren't exactly better.

He looked at her, a little smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Hungry?"

She turned to him with an annoyed look on her face. "You know, why are you here? Isn't there somewhere else you could be annoying?"

"Actually, I was going to make myself a sandwich. That is of course, if it's alright with your highness?" He swept her a mockingly gracious bow.

"Fine. As long as you're not too annoying." She refused to grin… although it was an effort.

He smiled and surveyed the chaos—err, food she'd laid out to use. He glanced from the petite young woman next to him to the length of counter in front of him. Coming to a decision, he thought she must burn food faster than any other member of the Blood.

They made their sandwiches in companionable silence. He glared at her as he looked in the mustard jar; there wasn't any left. "You know, today in the Library-" he started his tirade as she began to cut a slice of roast beef. At the word 'Library' she jumped. "Mother Night!" she exclaimed as the knife slipped and cut into her thumb. She clutched her hand in the other and started swearing violently and frighteningly creatively.

"Here- let me see it! Would you hold still?!" Aravian dodged his hand, standing in the corner with a fiercely grumpy scowl on her sweet little face.

"No. Leave me alone." Sometimes, she was as stubborn as she'd been as a child.

"Ara, would you just let me look at it?"

"No. It's fine! Just a scratch!"

He gritted his teeth. "If it's just a scratch then why won't you let me see it?" Nickolaes made a grab and caught her wrist in his hand. He quickly stepped in front of her so she wouldn't bolt.

"No! Let go! It hurts!"

"An Eyrien admitting something hurts? Why I'd nev- Hey! Don't kick me!"

With a great amount of effort—the packaging did not match the strength—he managed to pry her fingers away. She protested vehemently.

"If you try to kick me there one more time, I swear by the Darkness you won't like what happens! I'm still bigger than you and my jewel is still darker!"

"And I can still beat you with sticks any day of the week!"

He growled through his teeth.

She stilled and settled for glaring up at him with her dark blue eyes and long pale hair falling around her face. It would have been seductive looking if she hadn't been a real threat.

Huh?

He paused at his own thoughts… this.was.the.Pest. Not one of the other girls in the second generation, or one of the maids (most of which, thanks to the looks he'd inherited from his father, he'd been to bed with). This was Aravian, the Pest, everyone's little sister.

Except, he realized, she hadn't seemed so little sisterish to him for awhile.

He came back to the present with a near audible snap. He realized he'd been standing still with Aravian's hand in his for awhile, and that the look she was giving him now was confused.

Aravian was glaring at Nickolaes as he forced her to let him look at her hand. He paused, and his glacier eyes went far away while still remaining intent on her face. Staring at those eyes, she realized he had a golden sunburst around the pupil, a dark, rich shade of gold that you'd expect on opulent trim or in the last rays of the setting sun. She shifted her wings as the moment stretched, but was reluctant to move much lest she disturb it. She felt like she was standing on an edge, about to launch herself head-first into the Khaldaron Run. She didn't know why she felt that, but as an apprentice Black Widow and instinctive fighter she knew to heed her feelings.

He seemed to jolt back into the present. The look on his face didn't seem to change at all, but it seemed to change so much that she felt a prickle all down through her legs to her toes. She felt suddenly very conscious of how thin her tank top was as his eyes flicked to her thumb, and he rubbed his own across it, leaving a bit of healing Craft along behind. That one movement made her shiver, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, and his eyes slowly drew back to hers.

Half of her wanted to bolt, run away and pretend whatever was about to happen wasn't. Stick her fingers in her ears and chant 'lalalalala' while she scurried away. The other half wanted to let her knees go out as they were begging to do. She didn't do either, just stood still as a deer spotted in a meadow, with her eyes frozen on Nickolaes in front of her.

His other hand slid under her chin and tilted her head up, just a little, because she was already looking up a bit to meet his eyes. His face came closer to hers until she felt the most tentative brush of his lips against hers, the brush of a butterfly captive in your hands. His right hand still clasped her no longer bleeding one in between them, almost giving the illusion of distance when a breeze would have knocked them into each other. Her eyes stayed with his the entire time, and the feeling of her knees being about to give way increased. She would have let her weight collapse against the counter behind her if the edge wouldn't have hurt her wings.

Realizing his hand was sliding back along her jaw to the back of her head, she closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the tiny sensual movement. She felt his lips against hers again, surer this time, but still soft. A tremor ran through her body and his hand left hers to slide around her waist, under her wings, leaving her hand against his clean bare chest. His lips were moving against hers. She wondered what she was supposed to do, and opted for staying upright. They weren't exactly pressed together now, but it was close and she knew it was a good thing his arm was supporting her. Otherwise she'd be a nice little puddle on the floor. A little messy puddle.

He broke away again. Both of them were breathing a little hard. There was a look in Nickolaes' eyes, like he wasn't as sure of what had just happened as he seemed. Aravian could feel a blush starting to creep up her neck to her cheeks, and he smiled in what she thought was a very male way. "Before you start glaring at me again," his voice seemed deeper somehow, darker, a husky shiver sending little chills chasing up her spine. He lay a gentle, almost chaste kiss against her lips, a hand on either side of her face now. "Good night, Aravian," he whispered against her lips. She murmured, "Good night," and he smiled, then walked out of the kitchen.

She stood still for a minute before tottering over to a chair. Her thoughts ran along the lines of, What was that? What do I do next time I see him? Oh Darkness… BREATHE! She took a great gulp of air and collapsed against the counter, pressing her burning face to the blessed coolness.

After a time of quiet blankness, in which she couldn't seem to form a coherent thought, she picked up her fateful sandwich and wandered back to her room.

Nickolaes pulled on all his resources to act cool and calm after he kissed Aravian. He was halfway to his room before his stomach rumbled, interrupting his half frantic thoughts, and reminded him that he'd forgotten his sandwich. He looked around at the walls as if they'd have an answer. His stomach rumbled again, louder this time. He sighed and turned back around.

Staring at the stairs, he tried to decide whether or not Aravian was still down there. If she was, he wasn't going down. No way, no how, nothin' doin'. At that moment he heard a light footfall coming up, and he scrambled back the opposite direction of Aravian's room.

Aravian appeared a moment later. She wandered down the hall, looking quite dazed with a forgotten sandwich on a plate in her left hand.

Nickolaes felt a smug grin stealing across his face. But only allowing himself a moment of satisfaction, his cursed mind (the thing was always getting in the way) started whirring. What had happened? He couldn't find a way to make himself regret kissing her. He knew it very well might make things awkward, and if he did start something with her—which he utterly shouldn't—it couldn't be a casual thing. A little niggling voice in the back of his head was saying he didn't want it to be. He pretended he hadn't heard that thought. But still… she hadn't even made the Offering to Darkness yet, or even had her Virgin Night! That thought made him groan. He altered his plans for that night to a sandwich, then a long, cold shower.

The tip of Avaesel's tail twitched as he watched Aravian kinetically pace the room. Her wings were hunched up, her sandwich untouched on the nightstand. Halting suddenly, she glared at the sandwich. Of course, the situation was all the sandwich's fault. Damn sandwich. She hated sandwiches.

In what Aravian considered to be an immensely feline manner, Avaesel asked *What's wrong?*

*Nothing.* She plunked down next to him on the bed, which was larger, and stronger, than most to accommodate the both of them.

His huge nostrils quivered. *You smell interesting. Like blood and… someone else.*

She held her thumb in front of him. He sniffed it and sneezed. The look he gave her was almost alien. *It doesn't smell like your Craft.*

Aravian shrugged and stood. "It doesn't matter," saying it aloud she tossed her robe on the floor and crawled under the covers. Avaesel, being a cat, albeit an extremely large cat, didn't move to make things any easier for her. After she was settled he made a few circles (nearly stepping on her several times) and plunked down in the middle of the bed, managing to take up an inordinate amount of space even for a creature of his size.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, glaring. "You're stealing the covers."

Avaesel settled in more comfortably.

"You're stealing the covers!"

He closed his eyes.

She shoved him.

Thud.

"MROWMPF!!"

*~~~~~*~~~~~*

I'm sorry. My inner romantic needed to come out and play. Needed exercise, you know. I hope that bit of fluff didn't bore you all silly… but really, it's her first kiss, it needed that kind of detail! It did! Okay, so maybe my inner drama queen whispered in the romantic's ear…

Anyway, please tell me whether it sucked or at least came off decently… Please????

Thank You's:

Kapies: You'll be pleased to know that, since this is the last day of school, updates ought to be coming faster from now on :) Glad that the last chapter was good, although yes, it was just mainly character stuff… although there was a bit of significance. :) And just for you, I updated the pronunciation guide! Thanks for always reviewing!

Blue Lady: Glad that you found it funny. Thanks for reviewing!

Starlight: Lol, 'The Adventures of Luthar and Aravian' eh? Well, while I never thought of it that way, that is an apt description! Makes me think of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Thanks for reviewing!

Thera's Blaed: Thanks so much! I love it when people compliment my artwork, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy :) Lol. I just did a knew BJT drawing actually, and it'll be up on the site soon… a bunch of the different witches from the books. Thanks for reviewing!

Godessnmb1: Hmm… my apologies, but that won't be happening for awhile. That will be one of the final chapters, and this is going to be a LONG story, just to warn you. Thanks for reviewing!

OoshatiElf: Yes, I finally updated… and now I've done it again. Lol. Thanks for reviewing.

DarkSideofNowhere: I'm not sure 'creative' is so much the word as 'contrived,' but oh well. Thanks for reviewing.

Chelsi Avalon: Lol, to the point, followed by a request… Thanks for reviewing!

Athene: Thank you so much! And I completely agree on the 'sugars' thing, although even before I read your review I decided to discount them altogether. I actually added them in last minute as I was editing, which is why there are so many of them; they didn't flow naturally. Thanks for reviewing!

Kiana Darkk: Well, Lorn IS an old man! He's a very old man! A very old dragon man! Mwuhahahaha, wonderful, now I just have to decide WHO will call them that!

Skie: Lol, I thought we needed a drunken Geoffrey somewhere. You'll just have to see about the door, it's entirely possible that I just put it in there for my own contrived amusement. Or maybe I just want you to forget about it so I can spring it on you later! Haha! Lol, I have that bumper sticker on my wall!!

Angelajria Knight: Glad to hear it. Thanks for reviewing!

Sheylan: Mwuhahaha, so I have lured in another one! **suddenly looks very innocent** Don't mind me. Hehe. Anyway, thank you so much! Too kind of you to say that. Thanks for reviewing!

Millenium: Thanks! Now, I'll try to answer your question, though be aware that I'm NOT a lawyer and my understanding of this subject comes to me from other writers. Okay, as far as I understand, fanfiction is legal, despite author requests, as long as you: a) make no money off the other person's work, b) you state that it does not belong to you, and c) give credit to the person. Be aware though that authors have sued people/web sites for writing fanfiction, such as Anne McAffrey (is that how you spell her name?), and while, from my understanding, it's still legal this can be VERY costly. In sum, as long as you do a thorough disclaimer I'm fair sure you can write the fanfiction. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope to see your story in the section soon!