Disclaimer: These characters belong to Tamora Pierce.

Chapter Two – Varice Kingsford

Varice was a beautiful woman. Tall and buxom, she had the blond hair and blue eyes that usually render men incapable of thinking. She had walked into Numair's room in the middle of the night with one thing clearly on her mind. The sheer white veil which had adorned her soft, blond hair lay three feet from the entry way. Her clingy red silk gown had been dropped hastily on the marble floor at the foot of the elegantly carved ebony bed. Varice had flung herself into Numair's arms with full abandon. But there was just one problem -- each time he closed his eyes, Numair's mind replayed the dream which had awoken him earlier.

Numair had tried to ignore it. Varice knew him well from their tryst of nine years ago when he was still known as Arram Draper and when he had lived in Carthak. Her knowledge of him gave her a knack for teasing all the right places. But her soft painted lips became the naturally rosy lips of Daine in his mind. Varice's richly curved body became Daine's slender form. His hands roved Varice's skin and his mind mapped those places on Daine which he should never have been looking at in the first place. It wasn't long before that nauseating feeling of self-loathing he had experienced earlier took over completely. He let go of Varice, pulled back from her and whispered, "I'm so sorry, but I can't do this."

She giggled lightly and replied, "Sure you can. Have you forgotten how?" But then she took one look at his face and inhaled sharply. All amusement left her as she folded her arms in front of her naked breasts self-consciously. "Why, Arram?" she asked with pleading eyes.

Numair stood, picked up her gown and handed it to her. He then tactfully turned his back so that she could redress without him staring. With his back turned to her he tried to explain. "You have done nothing wrong, Varice. I'm – there was a time that you could blow on my ear and make my brain shut off entirely, but that was many years ago. Being back here in Carthak has me in complete inner turmoil. Ozorne allowed me to return with a full pardon, but I am not fool enough to think that all is forgiven. And you are rather entwined with a man who, as recently as last year wanted me dead. I am here for another six days and we cannot just pick up where we left off. While my body would very much like my head to stop considering things like this, it isn't working."

Varice stood behind him on the bed and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. "I didn't say there had to be a tomorrow," she whispered, as she began to nibble his ear.

Numair shuddered agreeably and thought ever so briefly about turning around and taking the gown back off of her. But then his mind's eye pictured Daine in the lilac muslin dress she had worn that very evening. He imagined himself pushing it down her shoulders and listening to it drop to the floor. He jerked away from Varice as if she had bitten him.

"Is there more to this? Have I become repulsive to you by remaining in Ozorne's court?"

"Gods no. When I saw you again yesterday…" He trailed off. "But I'm not sure where I stand here and I'm not sure where you stand here either. Then I had this very disturbing dream and I – I just can't get it out of my mind."

She clicked her tongue sympathetically. She ran a hand down his stomach and thigh, teasingly. Then she stood back sharply. "You really are somewhere else tonight aren't you? That should have gotten your attention if nothing else did."

He chuckled and nodded agreement. Then he sat down on the bed almost dejectedly. "It has been a long time since I felt on the brink of madness." He pulled on his long nose.

"So your dream, it didn't have me putting you in the dungeon or some horrible thing like that did it? Because I wouldn't – you know that right?" She sat down next to him, but left a foot of space so that they weren't actually touching at all. She turned her skyblue eyes on him, searching.

"No," he smiled ironically. "You weren't there at all."

"Oh." She wrapped a lock of blond hair around a finger and twisted, something he'd seen her do at least a hundred times before. He knew that it was a self-conscious act to her, as much as crossing her arms in front of her had been."So the Dream God doesn't place me in your life, huh?"

He tilted his head sideways. "I didn't think about that. It was a very, very vivid dream. But surely He wouldn't – unless He finds it amusing to make me consider doing horrible things to myself." The last of that sentence was muttered, but not low enough for Varice to miss it.

With eyes open very wide, Varice surveyed him. "Arram, you aren't – you wouldn't – you aren't serious about that are you?"

"No, I'm not. It's this place. Being here has me – I'm not myself. I have seen the worst of Ozorne's hospitality and I'm not eager to find myself in his dungeon again. That would make anyone apprehensive. Despite his reassurances, I'm not convinced that all is forgiven. You didn't see me there. You don't know what hopelessness one can feel locked away like that. All my power was useless. Those cells block all magic; with the loss of my gift, I lost my hope as well. I thought – I was sure I would die there. And even my escape didn't make it easier. I spent a long time hiding who I was and struggling to survive. It was not a pleasant time, Varice, and you didn't have to go there with me." The last sentence was stated a little too sharply and Numair knew it. And yet he didn't regret it. He supposed some part of him had been thinking it all along -- he suffered while she stayed and played dress-up with his greatest enemy.

"So it is me then," she said and it was clearly not a question. He saw a tear roll down her cheek. "I wasn't strong enough to follow you into hell. I like pretty things. I like using my gift for cooking and making people happy. You wanted to be famous and know everything there was to know. I just couldn't follow. Does that make me a bad person?" She was standing now, but looked disoriented. She began to dab at her now streaming eyes with a pretty handkerchief bearing an embroidered "V".

"No, Varice," Numair replied gently. He reached out to stroke her cheek and she nuzzled against his hand. It was a beautiful gesture, but nothing more, and this he knew clearly. "But it does mean that you and I don't belong together. This would have been very wrong for both of us. Perhaps that was what the Dream God wished me to see."

She nodded, but looked sad. Varice set her lacy handkerchief down on the carved credenza. She picked up her veil and began to straighten her hair. Numair helped. Positioned in front of his mirror, the beautiful blond was shadowed by his own swarthy features and height. "Varice, I will always think of you fondly. We have a history and a friendship that transcends much. But I do hope you find a husband one day -- someone who makes you really happy and perhaps gives you the position and title you've longed for." He smiled lightly and added, "And I promise I won't kill him after all."

Varice smiled and kissed his cheek softly. She seemed pleased by his reference the line he'd used the night they arrived at Carthak. She opened the door, looking back with shining eyes. Then she left.

Numair sat back against his pillows and crossed his long legs. He could still smell Varice's floral perfume in the room. For a moment he smiled as memories of Varice played once more through his mind. And then the smile turned to a frown as he again found himself caught in the pictures of the dream, which had taken over his reverie. If the Dream God had placed that dream in his mind, whatever could the purpose be? His mind replayed the time spent with Daine that evening at the banquet. He recalled being startled by her beauty and complimenting her with "If I'm not careful, you'll be grown and married to a deserving fellow before I realize it." He had meant that at the time. There was no twinge of jealousy. She hadn't dignified his comments with so much as a smile. But then she startled him by saying the Badger had visited. Numair sat up as he realized that Daine needed to talk and he had dismissed her request without another thought.. Numair promised himself to rise early and find her. He made a quiet plea to the Dream God to leave him to rest without further revisiting the disturbing ideas of earlier, then he laid back and closed his eyes.