Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the story timeline, only my own twisted version of it. Even some of the dialogue is taken word for word from Tamora Pierce, the Goddess of YA Fantasy.

Chapter Five – Ruminations

When the bell rang indicating the time talks were to resume, Numair barely heard it. Normally fascinated by these kinds of debates, he discovered it was the last place he wanted to be today. Numair seated himself between Alanna and Duke Gareth of Naxun. He distractedly poured himself a glass of water, spilling a little. Feeling eyes on him, he noticed Alanna was glaring. The redhead's famous temper was obviously stirring. He suspected she had talked with Daine about his attempt to hit Ozorne. Numair knew he had been foolish and would have no defense for his actions.

Within moments they had stood to show respect to Emperor Ozorne as he entered the room. Ozorne sat regally without a word. Moments later, feeling eyes on him, Numair saw that Ozorne, too, was glowering at him. Numair's ability to see gift showed him a view that most of the delegates wouldn't have. The emperor's normally well-contained magic was spilling into the air. Numair could almost feel the crackle of Ozorne's temper. He observed with irony that he had managed to irritate the two people in the room with the most dangerous tempers.

The morning began with a recap of what had been agreed upon on the prior day. Numair's emotionally exhausted brain didn't need much encouragement to wander and this certainly didn't help. His focus wandered around the room, looking at artwork, the intricate gilded ceiling and the fine black marble floor. He idly realized that he had been in this room before when he was much younger. Years ago, when he and Ozorne were still friends, it had been an empty room they had used to practice showy spells in.

He could remember laughing with Ozorne about a delicately carved chair which did not hold up well to Numair's magic. He could picture the whole thing as if it were yesterday. The flash of black with white sparkles plucked the chair from its position and floated it. The seventeen year old Ozorne picked that moment to mention the girl his friend had asked to the midsummer ball. "Lanette called you gawky, Arram, like a giraffe in clothes." He laughed relentlessly and Arram blushed, but tried to ignore him. It was when he repeated the last part, sniggering so hard it was almost incoherent, that Arram lost his concentration. "You're a gir -- giraffe in – in clothes". Arram's overabundant gift somehow made the chair burst. Ozorne then said, "So you won't be using that spell to whisk her away, then." They had both laughed at that. It was one of the last times Numair could remember actually laughing with the now emperor Ozorne. Their friendship began a downhill spiral after that and ultimately ended with Arram locked in a magic-cancelling dungeon, charged with treason. He should have been executed. Instead he escaped to the life and identity he knew now.

He hadn't thought about Lanette in years. It was funny how, at the time, he was sure his heart would stop beating all together when she refused him. But it didn't. Now he was aware that his infatuation with her and many other ladies he'd known over the years was simply lust. For a long time, his true love had been the magic. He didn't give up on the spell that burst the chair. It was now so easy he rarely considered the struggle to learn to control it. It was, in fact, the very spell he had used to pluck Daine and Zek from the river full of crocodiles on their first day in Carthak.

Numair found himself marveling at the life he had built for himself. Had he stayed in Carthak and not crossed the emperor, he might have married Varice. He would likely be one of the mages that Jonathan of Conte now considered evil. He would never have met Alanna, George, Onua or Daine.

Daine. He did not understand why his thoughts strayed to her so much lately. She was dear to him and rightly so. People cannot fight together, risking life and limb, without forging an impenetrable bond. Perhaps that was where the dream came from. Even so, it was not an appropriate way to think of her. Being honest with himself, Numair knew he was attracted. There wasn't even one thing he could point to and say, "That's why." She was becoming beautiful. He wasn't the only one to notice. He saw men turn their heads at the sight of her. But he had been with women who were admittedly more beautiful – at least physically. Varice could render a man speechless. Lady Cassandra in Corus inspired bards to sing of her. Either one of these women, as the subject of a dream, would not have shaken him up so.

He knew there was a difference. Daine has a beautiful mind. She was rough in language and lacked some of the refinement he found in the women of court. She was completely incapable of pronouncing "simulacrum" he thought with a smile. But she was compelling. Perhaps her wild magic gave her the horse sense that he found almost enviable. She also has a musical sort of laughter and an optimism thatwas contagious. Her generous nature and kindness to all living things should make anyone look at her twice. But shewas far too young to appear naked in his dreams. He felt his face color.

Next to him, Duke Gareth leaned to get the water pitcher and asked, "Where are you today?"

"Hmmmm?" Numair realized that he had not taken in a single bit of the conversation. Quietly he whispered, "There are reasons why I felt it was best to hold my tongue today." He gestured toward Ozorne.

Duke Gareth seemed startled to see the look of hatred emanating from the emperor as he stared at Numair. The Duke turned to Numair and mouthed the word, "Why?"

Numair only shook his head to suggest now was not the time.

The truth was he wasn't even sure what topic they were on. At some point while he daydreamed, a rather heated debate about fishing rights had erupted. Numair was usually in the middle of such things, reciting laws and offering solutions. It was something that Daine found most annoying about him. Daine. She trusted him so much. What would she think if she could see what he had seen in sleep?

Unbidden, his mind raced over the dream. Now he realized that it was always followed by the nightmare version. He also realized with a start that there were disturbing similarities between them. The position was one of many two lovers might find themselves in. But somehow, Numair's mind had placed himself and Ozorne the same, as if they were interchangeable. He shuddered at the thought. In the nightmare, Daine was clearly captive. But wouldn't she be in the dream as well? Ozorne would need a mind control device to have his way with Daine. But Numair could confuse her mind with simple words. Many times he had seen how easy it was for someone of his age and experience to delude a young woman into believing herself in love with him. It only took three small words and a girl would gladly give up her innocence to a man twice her age. This was not something that should happen to Daine. She should be – she deserved to be treated with devotion. And she definitely didn't deserve what Ozorne might have in store. Numair silently swore to Bright Mithros that he would keep her from harm – even if the harm was himself.

He heard Alanna shift in her chair, bringing him once again to himself. With a start he realized it was nearly mid-day and he had not said a word. The delegates were still arguing about fishing rights. Numair wondered if they should ask the Crocodiles for help in sorting it all out and smiled to himself.

A half hour later, the mid-day bell chimed and the group broke for lunch. The group seemed at a stalemate on who could take what fish from where and Numair wondered if that would be the topic all day.

A light meal awaited them in the banquet hall. Numair was sorry to note that Daine and Kaddar had not returned from their tour. Varice, however, was present and wore a warm smile that Numair had not expected. It would not have been surprising to discover that she was angry about the outcome of the previous night. He had, afterall, rejected her advances. He tried to soften it and hoped to maintain a friendship. He thought with surprise, that it might have been the only attempt he had succeeded in during the last 24 hours.

"Good afternoon," Numair said with a friendly smile.

Varice beamed. "Good afternoon, handsome. Did you sleep well?"

"As well as could be expected while alone," he flirted shamelessly. Given the circumstances though, it seemed like the right thing to do.

"That wasn't my idea," she whispered.

"I actually was afraid you would be angry. I'm pleased to learn that is not the case," he answered in a low voice.

"How could I be? You've grown up. You appear to want something permanent. That was an eventuality I could never have imagined from you. And perhaps, if I give up my childish ways…"

Numair tried not to let the shock he felt show on his face. This was not what he had wanted, but then he didn't feel like he could afford another enemy. This was especially true when he saw Alanna marching toward him, daggers in her narrowed eyes. "Eat fast," she growled. "I believe you need another sword fighting lesson."