Lull

A Trickster's Choice fanfic by Rabid Lola

A/N: Characters property of Tamora Pierce. Set in between Trickster's Choice and Trickster's Queen, which I have yet to read.

…---…

They wheeled overhead, cawing and clamoring—not an alarm, she knew. Simple bickering, a friendly fight. Nothing to get worried about.

She watched them through eyes of hazel-green, a small smile on her lips.

Crows: she'd liked them before, and she liked them even more now. They provided interesting company, since Kyprioth had introduced her to them. She felt like one of their own; she just didn't have feathers and didn't fly.

Crows: she remembered the first one she'd met, who had nipped at her fingers and preened her hair. She remembered, then, fingers trailing through the same hair, preening, in much the same way, and she felt her cheeks warm faintly, before scolding herself and shoving the thoughts away. Dangerous, dangerous thoughts, if happy ones…

But thinking about that led her to remembering something, something she'd been pondering for a while, now. A slight expression of discomfort crossed over her face, but she smoothed it away before anyone could notice.

Her companion, however, was astute, if young. Dovasary sighed and set down the wool she was spinning. "Aly, what are you thinking of?"

Aly nearly jerked, but her natural carefulness kept her from doing so. Yet not even that could keep pink from tingeing her cheeks. "Nothing in particular," she said lazily, offhandedly.

Dove raised one eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

Aly let a smirk etch itself onto her mouth. "Apart from how cold it's getting, what would I think of, on a day like this?"

"Your eyes have been on the crows for the past ten minutes. Do you really want me to tell you?" Dove retorted.

Aly was quick to answer, "No."

There was a silence again, and Aly could feel it from Dove, a teasing, curious silence. Annoyed, she glanced up at the crows again, observing as they flew back towards them, side by side, their squabble apparently over. And then, she felt it slip out of her mouth. "Do crows mate for life?"

Dove turned to look at her and raised an eyebrow. Aly flushed a deep red and turned her face away. "Forget I asked."

The two crows landed in the branches overhead. They cawed again, in the chill near-winter air, and Aly was reminded of the fact that it would snow soon, and she'd have to spend winter cooped up inside the castle, while all the crows (except for one…) flew south…

"I'm not sure…" It was Dove's voice, soft, surprisingly, and thoughtful. "I never really studied the habits of crows, or watched them much."

Aly said nothing, but she was listening, Dove could tell.

"I think, though," Dove's hand came down to rest on the grass, and her small fingers brushed against Aly's, in an almost reassuring gesture. "That while some don't, others do." Her eyes were not focused on Aly, but somewhere else, as the older girl turned, a little, to listen better. A tiny smile appeared on Dove's normally reserved face, that had been more solemn than usual since her father's death. "Those who find the right partner, at least, probably do."

"And how do they know if they have?" Aly asked softly.

Dove's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Maybe if they're willing to turn human, and stay so, for their partner."

Aly blushed—again—and stood.

"Aly." Dove tugged at her skirt, urging her to sit down again. "Don't worry about it." She turned her face up, and Aly saw the earnestness in it. "I've seen the way he looks at you. He's not only crow, Aly, he's human, too, and he loves you."

Aly could find nothing to say, momentarily struck dumb by such open honesty. But she sat down again, and twisted her hands together in her lap.

Silence for another few minutes, then Dove spoke again. "Aly?"

"Yes?" Aly replied, wondering what she would say now.

"Why did you stay?"

Her head swiveled around at the unexpected question. "Huh?"

Dove looked straight at her. 'Your father was here. You could have gone home with him. We wouldn't have liked it, but it's your right, being free, after all. But you stayed. Why?"

"I'm the god's messenger," Aly reminded her.

Dove released a sigh of irritation. "That's not all, Aly. You saved us already. And gods give mortals choices, messenger or no. Why did you stay?"

Because it's near, Aly thought silently. Because Kyprioth has a plan, for the good of all the Isles, and if it's played out well…

"Something's going to happen, isn't it?" Dove asked quietly, and Aly marveled again how observant she was...or rather, how easily she took notice of things other people didn't.

She sighed; she owed this much to Dove. "Yes," she said, in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. "Yes, something is, although I don't know what. And even if I was free to go…" You're my friends. "I can't leave you all in the middle of it," she finished, in a light tone.

Dove fell quiet, but the look in her eyes made Aly feel warm inside. It was wonder, and a wordless, heartfelt thanks.

Just as Aly was about to drift off to sleep, the twelve-year-old said slyly, "So it wasn't just Nawat?"

Aly shot bolt upright, sputtering. "Dove!"

"What about me?" a familiar voice inquired.

The girl looked up, startled, to find the crow-man moving to sit beside her. Dove—the little wretch—had disappeared, for what reasons Aly did not know, or did not want to know.

Nawat peered worriedly into Aly's face. "You look ruffled. What were you and the little one talking about?"

Aly smiled, and allowed herself to lean against him, just a little. "Nothing that concerns you," she informed him tartly.

He gave a soft laugh and slid his fingers through her hair, and she closed her eyes, content.

…--EnD--…