I must be insane to take up NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month) when I have trouble updating this regularly. I think I must have a serious resisting problem. I seem to take up more than I can handle. I won't even attempt to apologize for the lengthy wait. Just, please, blame it on school. (Yes, fine. It was partly my laziness too)

I hope you'll like this chapter. CC very welcome.

Chapter 5

Daine peeped through the door into a light and airy quarter that was one of the many rooms under Duke Baird's supervision. By the open window where streams of sunlight poured through like liquid gold was a makeshift bed, its white covers dazzlingly bright under the sun.

A man sat on the bed; his head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. Locks of soft, golden hair fell across his face, accenting a straight nose and long, sinuous lashes.

Daine cleared her throat uncertainly.

The man opened his eyes and turned his face, briefly catching the sunlight that haloed his warm expression of interest. Daine smiled nervously.

'How are you feeling?' she asked as she crossed the room. 'Do you need anything?'

She felt herself blush as moss green eyes fixed themselves on her. She thought he was even more beautiful than he had seemed the night before.

Very softly, the stranger said, 'May I…have a glass of water?'

His request was so shy, so tentative that Daine had to smile. She poured water for him.

'Numair said he'll come and see you as soon as his meeting finishes,' Daine explained, watching him from under her lashes.

'Nu-mair?'

'He's the man you saw with me last night in the forest. He brought you here to the ward. You were unconscious…and wounded.'

'Yes,' the man looked down and touched his chest. 'I have many cuts. But they no longer feel so painful.'

Daine's smile broadened. 'That's because Duke Baird is the best healer around. You were lucky he was at the infirmary when we brought you.'

Soft lips curled into a shy smile as the man looked at her, his face lit with unearthly grace. 'You must thank him. I am very grateful for his help.'

'No need.'

There was a loud clang as Duke Baird, a highly distinguished healer who, despite his protests, could heal almost anything that is within human reach, settled a large jar of ointment on the table. This morning he seemed distracted and rather harassed. Daine wasn't surprised. The morning after Beltane was always busy with drink-related casualties.

Duke Baird greeted Daine before turning on the man with a healer's eye. 'Any back pains?' he asked. 'Headaches? Sore throat?'

The patient shook his head.

'How did you sleep last night?'

'Very well, thank you. The cuts on my chest, I can't feel them at all.'

Duke Baird looked sceptical. 'Hmm, well, I'd still like to take a look at it. They were rather deep.'

Removing his shirt, the man sat up straighter for the healer to examine. Where painful cuts covered his chest and back the previous night, they now receded into tame, neat scars that were just faint enough to see. As rays of light shone against his bare skin, Daine blinked at the pale, green hue that appeared like supple vines beneath his flesh.

Duke Baird was too preoccupied with his patient's immaculate healing to notice. He let out a long, whistling breath and raised an eyebrow. Gesturing for the man to put his shirt back on, he stood up, taking the jar with him.

'You heal fast,' he said slowly, studying the man who looked back with unblinking, expectant eyes. 'Well, I was going to ask you to rub this ointment on your wounds but I can see that's not necessary. Just don't scratch those scars and you will be fine. I think you'll want to get up and move around a little.' So saying, he nodded at Daine and made for the door. There he paused and with a long, suffering sigh, said, 'If you'll excuse me now. I have three cases of extreme hangovers to see.'

Daine watched the door close before turning to the man with a rueful smile.

'I'm sorry. I don't think I know your name.'

'My name?' For a moment he looked puzzled, as if the question was unfamiliar to him. Then his eyes flickered and said, 'Ash…that is what I'm called. Ash.'

It was not long before Numair appeared by the doorway. Daine was relieved to see him, glad from the release of being alone with Ash as much as the awkward silence that lapsed after Duke Baird's departure. She relaxed significantly when Numair greeted the man pleasantly.

'I hope you are feeling better this morning?' he inquired, pulling a chair beside Daine. His arm touched hers as he sat down, making her shiver agreeably, and when she caught his eyes in a brief exchange, she was flooded by the guilty wish to be somewhere else with him, very preferably alone.

Ash's smile was equally pleasant, and he regarded the mage with what Daine thought to be on the thin line between curiosity and fascination. There was something odd, not altogether human even, about the man that she couldn't quite grasp. He felt strange to her, although the feeling was more baffling than threatening.

'Compared to last night, I have never felt better,' Ash answered, still studying the mage before him.

'How did you get those cuts, if you don't mind me asking?'

Green eyes lowered as Ash gazed out of the window and into the forest towards the distance. 'They were the works of thorns and branches,' he murmured softly. 'The trees reaching out to me as I pass by. They don't understand that their spines can hurt me and make me bleed; they thought they were greeting me. And there were people, angry men and women who didn't know me and wanted me gone from their villages. I had to run constantly, and the forest was the only thing that protected me.'

'Why do you run?' Numair's voice was quiet.

'I had to follow the north wind. It was in my heart all the time, tugging me northwards when I stopped and wanted to give up. But I can stop now, because I have found the searching place.' He lifted his head, eyes locking into Numair's as both men fought to guess the other's minds.

Daine stirred nervously, sensing the air thicken with Ash's cryptic words. She didn't understand him, nor did she understand the slow look of realisation that was creeping its way into Numair's expression.

'Forgive me but, do you think I can take a look at you with my Gift?' he inquired, frowning as he struggled with his own thoughts. With Ash's permission, he reached out to place a finger against his temple.

Daine stared in wonder as the men faced each other in utter silence. They could not have been put in a starker contrast, not when dark strands of hair hid parts of Numair's face, giving him an air of unfathomable contemplativeness that diverged so crudely from the pure, golden fairness of the other.

Daine blinked when Numair drew back, dark eyes startled. He stared at Ash, not quite sure what to make of him.

'I thought you seemed familiar last night,' he said slowly. 'And now I think I know why. What I sensed was my Gift inside you. Marks of…my magic.'

Ash's gaze was calm. 'Then you know who I am?'

Numair nodded, stunned. 'Tristan Staghorn…' he whispered. 'Two years ago I turned him into a tree with the Word Of Power.'

And somewhere in the world a tree turns into a man, Daine thought, staring at Ash in shocked disbelief. She had always known there would be a counteraction for every action; it was what Numair had taught her so many times in the past, but she never expected this.

'You were once a tree,' Numair carried on, his words sinking like a blanket onto the three of them. 'And now…'

Ash smiled, his face radiant. 'I am a man.'

That night Daine shifted into the shape of a sparrow and flew to the west wing where she knew one window would be open. He may hate the cold, she though with a mental grin, but he hates stagnant air more.

Silently she glided into the room, lit only by the pale moonlight that formed a silver beam through the window. When Numair, hair tousled and shirtless, felt something push him gently aside, he open bleary eyes to find Daine, dressed in something he dimly recalled as his, slide under the covers beside him.

He was suddenly very awake. 'Daine eh, what are you doing?' He glanced at her nervously, but nevertheless shifted to make room for her.

'I wanted to talk,' she replied with an indifferent shrug. She turned on her side and rested an arm on his chest. 'I couldn't sleep, see.'

'I see. And you think by coming here that's going to help?' His voice was very dry. Sighing, he took her hand and brought it against his lips. 'You know, sometimes I think you do this on purpose just to torture me,' he murmured quietly. 'You do realise my sleep will not be coming tonight?'

Daine fixed him with her best scathing look. 'The only person doing the torturing here is you, and of course you'll be able to sleep. The bed is fair big enough, and I don't snore.'

'You know very well that's not the reason.'

Daine stuck out her chin. 'I'm not leaving.'

'I'm not asking you to.'

He touched her face, tracing his thumb over her cheeks. Very gently he brought his lisp to hers, and in just one kiss he felt the mental control he placed within himself shatter. He forgot his resolve, didn't care about it, and closed in hungrily as he pressed himself onto the girl. He moved, turning so that Daine was locked beneath his own body, her eyes as fervent as he felt.

Daine responded warmly, easing her lips over his, letting him run his hands along her waist. Her heart was hammering, to say the least, and she took delight in the knowledge that she was in his room, in his bed.

'Oh Gods, we have to stop.' Numair managed to say between gasps of breaths. He was finding it increasingly harder to keep rational, and there was a powerful, almost painful, surge of…something inside him that worried him. He hated to think he was feeling the lust of having Daine underneath him, and he hated the thought of loosing control of that desire. When Daine wound her arms around his neck, he gently removed her hands. 'Magelet, sweet, we can't.'

With slow, excruciating effort he drew back, looking away as Daine neatened her shirt. She sighed, sneaking a sideway glance at him. He sat very still, face resolute and locked in rigid battle with himself. She rolled her eyes and leaned against his arm, muttering, 'Sometimes you are too sensible for your own good.'

She yawned, suddenly exhausted by the excitement of the day. Unbidden, a pair of moss green eyes flashed before her mind.

'What do we do about Ash?' she asked quietly. 'It was a fair odd meeting this morning.'

Numair remained quiet for a moment. 'I think you should be careful,' he said finally, catching her eyes. 'We still don't know anything about him other than the proof of my Gift inside him.'

Daine looked at him sharply. 'You don't think he could turn out like Tristan again?'

'I don't know, sweet. None of his actions have indicated threats but…' he shook his head, 'I don't know if he is here simply to be here.'

'You think someone sent him then? Ozorne perhaps?' She frowned into the dark. 'But he's a Stormwing now, and how could he possibly have known the connection between Ash and you?'

Numair smiled ruefully, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. 'We can't say anything for certain, not at this point. But lets not worry about Ozorne for now. This is too good a time to think about him.'

With another kiss, he drew her beside him and covered them both with a blanket.

Note: If you want to know about the tree-man further, read my other story, Ash, which is my own interpretation of how he came to be.

Acknowledgements

Kit49: Hopefully this chapter solved a bit of that mystery for you. And yes, I will definitely be playing with their minds. That's my favourite part.

Roherwen: I'm afraid this update was definitely not very speedy. Sorry to keep you waiting.

Daughter-of-the-faeries: I don't know how Numair contains himself either! But he's developed a shield – from all the things I put him through.

Lady Deathstrike: Thank you very much. I'm glad to hear you liked my other stories.

Queen's Own: Hee, don't worry about the character thing. I like to know that all my characters are, wait for it, in character.

Whisper: Ah, my dear, you exaggerate. And you are /way/ too generous with compliments. J

CrAzYhOrSeGiRl88: (can I just call you Perrie? It's too long to type! – Oh, and I hope it /is/ Perrie. My memory is shocking) as always, thank you so much for your review. It's a confidence boost every time reading your comments. And it drives me to write the next chapter.

WildMagelet: Jealous!Numair is definitely good! Ah, and he makes me drool like a fool.

LadyMage: Thank you very much! I'm glad you're liking this story so far.

Megster: Lust, like all sins are within everyone – the fact that Numair has that sin makes him more prone and sensitive to it.

Hehe: thanks!

Fyliwion: I always write late in the night too, but never as late as 2am, mostly because my parents would scream at me to go to bed. They are very good at it.

Narm's Briton 44: I prefer dark to blond too, but I'm definitely very taken to Ash. (winks)

Goddess of the Moon: Hopefully you now know more about the stranger. Thanks for the review, and I look forward to seeing you again.

Dragon and the Wild Mage: I'm afraid I can't give too much away about Ash, as of yet. You'll just have to wait and see.

Godes of muffins: Thank you for reviewing. I hope you like this chapter.

Girlfromtheshadows: Aw, I'm a big, big DN worshipper too. I'm sorry this update took so long.

Enchantress Sun: Yeah, I'm feeling rather sorry and guilty towards Numair.