Aravilui: Thank you. I'm fining Midwinter quite tough going – its been really difficult to write chapter two after having a night off. I hope you think it's as good as the others. Goldeneyedwildmage: Sorry for the delay. I was at a 21st, and everything's been rather chaotic. I am off for a week now, so hopefully, I'll get lots of writing done. Dolphin Dreamer: I was really tired when I put the chapter up. You are amazing at noticing things! I will go back and correct them and probably do some editing on all my stories. These are like first drafts, as I like to let things sit for a while and then go back to them. Thank you! Daine's Daughter: I think I would call it stories! Thank you! Sonnet Lacewing: I have great admiration for Numair as he does put so much on hold for the sake of Daine. A pity there isn't more men like him around! Twilight Shades: Numair is worrying about what he and Thayet have found. Daine picks up on his preoccupied expression. Thank you for your review! Please carry on! Silverlake: I enjoyed writing that scene with Jon and Daine more than any other in that chapter. Thank you. Neal's Chick: And because its got you wondering I'll try and stick some fluff in just for you! NB44: Thank you! Lime 63: Thank you! I hope this chapter stands up to the previous one as its taken me far too long to write! Bitterosemary: Sometimes I have to include something just to keep myself awake. That was one of those things. I'm so glad I have a week off so I can't write during the day without falling asleep with my head on the keyboard! Aikia Riven: You're a bit of the mystery, you are! Hat maker! Wow. I believe Onua had both. In WM she used her gift to ward her and Daine's camp, and I think the colour of her gift was referred to as well. Numair did also say that she had a gift with horses – she had the copper fire too, but not enough to need training in it. I assumed that she had both, I also wonder if TP made a mistake, or if she did want a character who had both types of magic. I could have read it wrong though. That's a very strong possibility. Celuna Cirrus: Thank you. I see Numy as being good with kids. I have no evidence for that, maybe its because I see him as being 'ideal man'! Kelsey: Sorry it's taken so long to update. I hope it worth it!

Midwinter II

Chapter 2 – Making Merry

Daine settled down in the hot bath that Numair had ran for her, candles surrounding it and a drop of essence of rose added to the water. She relaxed back, inhaling the pleasant scent and thought over in her mind the news that Numair had just imparted on her.

Onua had been Daine's first friend after the bandits had killed her family back in Snowsdale; it had been Onua who had found her work and a home and Daine thought of her as being like a big sister. She had known about Onua's history, with a husband who had left her for dead, although it was not something that Onua readily discussed, preferring to keep the past in the past. Onua was a quiet, steady person, very dedicated to her adoptive country and her job, and since Sarge had come into her life as more than just a friend she had shown a level of happiness that even Onua hadn't thought she was capable of.

Daine sighed, waving the bath water over her. Numair had told her about the letters that they had found in the cupboard when they were looking for the tapestry of the Oak and Holly Kings. He had thought Thayet looked as if she was going to pass out when she caught sight of the name of the sender. No one had ever considered that Onua's husband knew where she lived now, let alone he was actually writing to her.

Daine stood up and pulled a towel from the nearby chair to dry herself with, wrapping the warmed, fluffy piece of material around her body. Numair suspected that Onua had put the box of letters in there when she was moving her belongings into the new rooms she and Sarge had been given, in a rush so he wouldn't come across them as he was helping her to pack. Knowing Sarge fairly well, Daine knew that he would not be happy that Onua was hearing from her husband and that the horse mistress had kept it from him. She let the water from the bath drain, watching it mesmerised as it trickled away. Numair had explained his dilemma; he and Thayet had both seen who the letters were from and that they were still being sent, the one that Thayet had dropped having been written only three months ago. They knew they had to tell Onua what they had found, and he felt that they were entitled to an explanation of why she and her husband were still communicating, after what he had done, and especially now she had Sarge in her life.

Daine stood onto the fleecey towel that Numair had put down on the floor for her before he had left to seek out Thayet and get Jonathan's advice on what to do. She had suggested that Numair let Thayet speak with Onua – after the Midwinter celebrations. Daine knew that Numair and Onua were old friends but she thought that Thayet might be better to bring the topic up as Numair could sometimes be a little overwhelming. And, as she had explained to the mage, two of them would be intimidating, and maybe it would be best if Onua was approached by another woman.

She draped the towel over the back of the chair to dry it off and walked back into their bedroom, where a warm fire was radiating heat. Daine pulled on a loincloth and a breastband and settled down by the fire to dry off her hair, loathing the task as it took so long as her locks were so thick. She had wrapped the presents for their friends as Numair had filled her in on that morning's discovery, but still needed to wrap Numair's before he came back, as there wouldn't be time enough alone in the morning. Last year they had unwrapped presents together in a more formal manner. The collapse of the barrier had just happened and Daine suspected that it was a way of showing solidarity and team work by all being together for such an occasion. This year, they would be opening their gifts in private, or in small groups if they wished, in the morning, and most of the day would be spent celebrating with friends and family until the feast in the evening, when there would be much merry making and fun.

Tonight there would be a feast to celebrate the lighting of the Yule log, that she had seen Thayet preparing that afternoon. Numair and the children had found a large piece of an ash tree that had fallen down naturally in the autumn winds that they had had. It was a suitable size for a Yule log and they had been happy with their find, not wanting to cut down part of a healthy tree. One she had dressed the log in ivy, holly and mistletoe, Thayet had doused the log in cider and dusted it with flour, then had made Thom's day by asking him to use his gift to put the log in the large, ornate fireplace, where it would be lit from tonight, using a piece of the last years log to give it flame. Another Yule log had been found to go on the middle of the banqueting tables; this one had been decorated with three candles, one red, one white and one black in honour of the Great Mother Goddess. Daine had been impressed with the decorations of both the logs, but particularly the latter, with the red and gold bows and the dressings of evergreen, rosebuds and cloves.

Daine dressed in a simple, heavy blue gown that she had had one of the palace seamstresses make for her. Blue suited her well, so well that perhaps nearly half of her wardrobe was made up of different shades of blue. This shade was a dark blue, almost navy, in a shiny satin material that had several muslin layers underneath to fill out the skirt and to provide warmth. She was especially glad of the layers as it appeared to be getting colder as the day drew to a close. She had briefly opened the window in their bedroom to let in a sparrowhawk that was anxious to tell her something and the cold had stung her skin viciously. Even with all four fires raging in their rooms it still wasn't quite warm enough, so the extra layers on the dress and the thick, warm shawl that had a top layer to match the dress were most welcome. She wrapped Numair's gifts quickly once she had dressed; slightly worried that he may come back before she had managed to disguise what she had bought him.

She had just about managed to hide the last gift in her cupboard when he did reappear, the same worried look upon his face as he had worn before when he had carried the Yule log back into the palace.

"What did you decide to do?" She asked him immediately, anxious to know.

"We both agreed that we need to tell her that we came across the letters. It wouldn't be fair on Onua to not say anything and let our thoughts take over. We need to give her a chance to explain. Thayet is going to have a word with her after the celebrations, in a couple of days or so. In the meantime, we've left the box where it was. To move it would be unfair and interfering," he explained. Daine edged closer to where he was sat, pushing one hand up his back, under his shirt, comfortingly.

"Try not to think about it too much," she offered, wondering if she'd be able to the same. "We know that Onua's not a deceitful person, there will be a reason why she's still in touch with him."

Numair nodded, his eyes looking over at his lover. "I know. That's what puzzles me. Although she is a private person and doesn't always go into too much detail about how she feels. I doubt Sarge knows, and I think that's what's bothering me so," he explained. "Sarge is hopelessly in love with her, and that's taken a lot of trust and time to build. Finding out this would seem like a terrible deception to him, even if it is totally innocent."

He pulled Daine onto his lap so she straddled him, taking care to not muss up her skirts too much. Sighing, he regarded her with his chocolate brown eyes, noticing the trust that she held in her own eyes for him and the acceptance and love that was there also.

"You look beautiful," he told her softly, kissing the side of her cheek.

"You're not fair bad yourself," she muttered back, her fingers combing through a stand of hair that had come loose from his horse tail. "But you need to hurry and get ready for tonight."

"There's over an hour yet!" Numair let his hands begin to wander over the new dress.

Daine laughed and reluctantly moved his hands away. "And it'll take you longer than that to get ready and I really need to find where Kitten's disappeared to with Kalasin."

Numair pulled a face. "I can be quick at getting ready. Your opinion was completely tainted by Onua when we first met," he sighed, a smile on his face letting her know that he was being playful. "Kitten was in Kally's room. Thayet mentioned it when I was with her."

Daine smiled at her lover, disentangling herself from him and smoothing out her dress. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, shivering as the cold chilled her now she was away from Numair's heat.

Numair nodded, making his way to the bath chamber, leaving Daine to go and hunt for the dragonet.

----------------------

The room was buzzing with the merry atmosphere of Midwinter, entrenched in traditional decorations and piles of food, much of what was customary to the season. Daine eyed a large plate of pork, already carved, that she knew to have been cooked with oranges. Somebody passed her a glass of eggnog which she happily accepted, the taste of it reminding her of Midwinters spent with her ma and grandda, when they would allow her a small glass of the drink.

Numair sat next to her; Kitten perched on a stool on the other side, both busy eating. Numair was in the middle of two conversations; one with Alanna, who was sat on the other side of him and the other with Alanna's eldest son, Thom. Daine smiled as she watched her mage, his mind now taken off the day's events. She spotted Onua at the other end of the table, sat with Sarge and Buri. From the few words she could pick up on she could tell that they were discussing horses and the riders that had started that year. Daine grinned and helped herself to some of the pork that was being served.

Once the meal had been demolished, although there still seemed to be enough left to feed a small country and Jonathan was making noises about adding it to the morrow's meal, they stood up for the lighting of the Yule log.

Dusk was just falling as the king took a piece of the previous year's log and lit it from one of the large candles; he then took the piece of wood over to the hearth and lit the large log that sat there. The room was silent as the flames took over the piece of ash. Daine thought about what it was meant to represent – the rebirth of the Sun god from the fire of the Great Mother Goddess. She thought of the coming of the longer days and the new sun, which would now begin to grow stronger with each day, bringing the spring time and warmth.

The chatter began again and Daine shivered as her attention focused away from the fire, feeling the cold as if a warm blanket had been removed. She looked around and saw Sarge stand up and wander to the cupboard where the letters had been found. Thayet quickly stood up and intercepted him, without Onua noticing what was happening. She saw Sarge return to his seat, giving Thayet a strange look, and then begin a conversation with Raoul of Goldenlake who was seated near him. Daine glanced at Numair to see if he had noticed the exchange, although he obviously hadn't, being too involved in a conversation with Thom about light spells.

The evening passed pleasantly, Daine was sorry when it came to an end fairly early as people knew that it would be a hectic day tomorrow and an early start for many, particularly those with children. She helped Numair stumble back to their room after three too many glasses of lambs' wool – a rather hairy concoction made by George in a fit of inspiration that afternoon while Alanna was attempting to duel with Raoul in the snow. It should have contained a little ale, sugar, nutmeg and roasted apple pulp, but the 'little' ale had been increased as had the sugar content, hence it was rather more potent than traditionally it should have been. Daine got into bed besides Numair who was already drifting off into a deep slumber, his socks still on his feet. She smiled, hoping that tomorrow would be a pleasant day.

---------------------------------------

The weak sun barely shone through the window, such was the thick blanket of snow that had piled up on the outside window ledge. Numair groaned at the cold on his face, wondering if the temperature had yet reached a record low. He had left the fires burning throughout the night but it didn't seem to have made too much of a difference. He pulled the sheets and blankets higher up the bed and shifted closer to Daine and Kitten, who had abandoned her own small room for the night and had crept in with them, obviously cold too. Daine stirred beside him, opening her eyes and looking into his that were just peeping over the covers.

"Happy Midwinter!" She said, her hands reaching around his waist. "It's cold, isn't it?" Her voice was muffled from underneath the covers.

"Happy Midwinter, Magelet. It's unbelievably cold. I have never known Tortall to be as cold as this. There may be problems if this weather continues," he answered in the same muffled tones.

"Sir Gareth said last night that no one should venture far out of the palace. Onua and I will have to go to the stables and check on the horses though. They still need feeding and I am concerned about the weather. Even in Snowsdale it was never like this," Daine drew warmth from her breath.

"I could come with you and put a heating spell around the stables. I know that you said Onua cast one yesterday, but my gift is stronger than hers, so it may help to provide more heat and last longer," Numair offered.

"Thank you," Daine responded, snuggling closer to him. "That would be useful. Do you think you could do something about making those fires hotter?"

"You know I'll end up burning down the palace if I try!" He laughed, feeling useless. He hated it when he couldn't give her what she wanted.

A cheep sounded from next to Daine and the small dragon sat up, her scales a strange colour of light blue.

"I think Kit's cold too," Daine murmured, trying to pull the sheet back over her charge, but Kitten moved away. She let out a long soft sound that filled the room, holding the note until Daine and Numair saw the fire begin to roar in the hearth in their bed chamber and they felt the heat gently surround them.

Daine looked at Numair almost as if he were a naughty child in trouble. "Did you know she could do that?" She demanded.

Numair, who had sat up by now shook his head in amazement. "No, I had no idea at all."

Daine looked at the dragon whose scales had now turned to lilac, the colour she became when she was pleased with herself. "Did Diamondflame teach you that?"

Kitten chirruped her affirmative response happily. Daine smiled at her. "I suppose you want your Midwinter gifts now it's warm enough to move around the room," she sighed, wondering if Midwinter morning would be like this when she had her own children. The thought made her look at Numair who had lay back down in the large bed and was smiling in contentment now that he was warming up.

"What are you smiling at?" He asked her lazily.

"I was wondering if this will be what it's like when we have our own kits," she said, half embarrassed.

Numair sat up again, and climbed out of bed, pulling Daine into his arms. "I would think we'd be woken much earlier," he said quietly into her ear, the image making his heart expand.

Daine lent in for a kiss, but they were interrupted by a now most impatient Kitten. Laughing they pulled themselves apart and began to seek the presents they had for each other and the dragon, Numair producing his from a hiding spell on his desk.

Kitten had been spoilt as usual. Some of the gifts were from both of them, including a set of fire and white opals, which weren't as expensive as the black opals used by mages such as Numair but were highly useful in conducting magic. Kitten had begun to use her own magic, frequently utilising such stones, and their gift would undoubtedly bring her many hours of amusement.

Daine sat on the edge of the bed, one of Numair's old shirts slung over her. The bedchamber was now that warm from Kitten's spell that she hadn't needed to get bundled up in clothes like she had thought she would when she had awoken in the cold. Numair passed her a pile of neatly wrapped presents, sitting next to her on the bed.

She opened them with care. Even when she had been little and still in Snowsdale she had never had as many gifts as she had had from people here, so she relished each present, giving it due care and attention. The first few presents he had given her were little tokens; perfume, a scarf, a new book on mammals that she hadn't seen before, and a set of lavender scented candles that she could light for when she was in the bath.

Then he produced a smaller parcel, which caused Kitten to trill excitedly, as if she knew what was inside it already. Daine carefully opened it, discovering a small box. Gently she opened it up and gasped.

Set into the box was a silver band, embellished with a series of small stones. Each one Daine recognised as having some magical or healing property. She saw pink lace agate, bloodstone, amber, amethyst, dark olive-green tremolite, rose quartz and a small black opal. She looked up at Numair with big eyes.

"Where did you get this from?" She asked in awe as she took the ring and gazed at it closely. Kitten trilled making each of the stones glow and the air around them vibrated madly.

"I took the stones from what I already had. They are all spelled to protect you from poisons and such, so the ring is useful as well as pretty. I had a jeweller in Corus make the ring and fit the stones. It's been made to go on your middle finger," he added, taking the ring from her and encouraging her to hold out her right hand.

Daine's face showed her amusement as he tenderly put the ring on her middle finger. "One day I will let you buy me another type of ring," she assured him as she noted the expression his face to be of slight woe.

Numair looked up from her finger. "I'm not going to push you, Daine. You know how I feel. When you're ready will be good enough for me."

She leant her head to his and kissed him slowly and softly, enjoying the gentle contact between them.

"How did you get it to fit?" She inquired when the kiss ended.

"Kitten came with me. She knew instinctively which size would be correct. Do you like it?" Numair looked pensive.

"It's fair beautiful, Numair. Thank you. Can it be spelled so it won't come of when I shape shift?"

"I have done that already," he answered quietly. "I love you, Veralidaine Sarrasri, one day Salmalin," his voice was low and gentle as he said the words. Neither were given to continuous declarations of love, so his words and what Daine figured to be the reason behind them tugged at her heart all the more. She kissed him again, wishing that they could just spend the day like this. Although they lived together it was rare that they would be able to have the whole day with no one else, except Kitten, present. Although Daine was glad the war of the summer was far behind them, she had enjoyed it when it had just been her and Numair travelling alone, and she now relished the chances when she had him all to herself.

She whispered the same words back to him, noticing Kitten scampering into her own little room with the box of stones she had been given. Numair slid her back onto the bed and they began to celebrate their first Midwinter together.

----------------------

The day went by quickly. Daine and Numair spent most of the morning visiting their various friends who were at the palace to exchange gifts. Kitten seemed to receive more presents that anyone else, even the younger children such as Lianne and Alianne having made her a present. The young dragon was constantly being petted and admired, something that she enjoyed immensely.

Her new trick was also performed a few times, warming up people's hearths and taking away the biting sting of the wintry weather. Duke Gareth had warned yet again that the weather mages had stated that it would be unwise to go outside, such was the cold. The amount of snow had now grown, and would also pose a threat to anyone who ventured out. Numair had visited the stables that morning with Daine to check on the horses and cast a warming spell over their stalls. None of the mounts seemed any the worse after the cold night, but Daine felt much happier when they left, knowing that none of them would suffer from lack of heat.

The Yule log was now smouldering, as it would do for twelve days. One of the palace mages had used his talents to make sure that the smoke drifted outside through the vent rather than choking anyone with its fumes. Daine found that she and Numair had been sat with their backs to the fire at the banqueting table, so she was grateful that it would be a smoke free meal.

Looking round the long table as she waited for the first course out of many to be served she noticed the absence of Onua and Sarge. Looking at Numair, she saw him too seeking somebody out.

"Where's Onua?" She asked, raising her eyebrows with curiosity.

"I don't know, Magelet. But it is rather strange that she isn't here. Onua's one for always being where she should be on time," Numair answered, still casting his eyes around the room for them.

"Odd's bob's Numair, she should be here by now. You don't think Thayet's had a word already, do you?" Daine said, restlessly, standing up.

"You stay here," he told her, standing up himself. "I go and have a word with Thayet. It may be nothing. There could have been a problem with one of the Rider groups."

Daine wasn't so sure. If there had been a problem with one of the Riders the whole room would have found out about it by now and Thayet would no longer be sitting there, she would have raced out to their aid, weather or no weather.

Numair rushed back round to Daine. "There's no reason why they shouldn't be here. Jonathan has already noticed and has sent a messenger to find out where they are and check that nothing's…" He stooped short as he noticed the outside door fling open, a tall, dark skinned man entering bringing what seemed like an avalanche of snow with him.

-------------------------------

Onua and Sarge had spent a pleasant morning in bed, unwrapping their presents and teasing each other mercilessly. Sarge had bought her ear-drops and a matching necklace, fastening them on with the tenderness that wouldn't be expected from a man of his size and stature and a tenderness that would often make her eyes fill with tears as she thought of their past histories and the future that lay ahead for them.

Just before noon, Sarge had left to go and hunt something that he thought he had left in a cupboard in the main part of the palace. Onua had not thought twice about him going. Two or three days ago he had misplaced a book of registers that he kept, placing it – or so he thought – down next to a pile of old Midwinter decorations. Using his logic, he had imagined that Thayet or whoever had cleared up the items had packed this book away with them.

Sarge knew that Midwinter objects were kept in a little cupboard just off from the main hall, which was where he had tried to go the previous evening, but had been halted by Thayet. He had been anxious to find the book, having no other copies of the information that was kept in it, so he decided to quickly go and look for it, before returning to Onua.

The cupboard was dark, and only had one candle which gave out a very poor light. He stumbled around, feeling around for the box where he was sure he would find his book. Using the candle for light he came across the same box that Thayet had found the day before, and immediately noticed Onua's name on a set of letters. He picked up the box, merely thinking that some well-meaning person had simply tidied them away instead of throwing them out with the rubbish and looked around once more.

Eventually he found it, buried beneath a string of red and gold bows. Tucking the book under his arm, he picked up Onua's box of letter and headed off back to their rooms. Glancing at the box he saw that one of the letters was dated fairly recently, glancing again, wondering why such personal things as letter had been stuffed into a cupboard he noticed the name scrawled at the bottom of one, Bristan Laedin, Onua's husband.

Sarge sat down on a seat placed for decorative purposes in one of the corridors. He gently placed the box of letters down and his book and put his head in his hands. The letter he had seen had been written and sent to her the day that they had moved in together. He breathed deeply, wondering what a fool he had been. She had sworn that she hadn't heard from him in years, that she had never loved him, and after how he had beaten her during nearly all the time that they had been married she would as soon the earth swallowed her up than have anything to do with him again.

He stepped back into their rooms, finding her lying on top of the covers, one of his long shirts over her, her dark hair sprayed over the white sheets.

"I missed you," she purred, holding out her arms for him to come to her. He froze, staring at her as if she was some new immortal that he wasn't sure what he needed to do with it, whether to attack or run.

"What's the matter?" Onua had sat up, her eyes filling with worry and concern.

"You lied to me," Sarge said quietly, the rage building inside him not spilling out.

Onua closed her eyes and breathed deeply, as if she knew what he was referring to. "The letters…" she began.

"Yes," Sarge said, still in the same gentle tone. "The ones from your husband that you hid in the stockroom when you were moving your things," it all made sense now.

"It isn't like that," she began to defend herself. "It's…"

"Save it, Onua," Sarge muttered. "I'm sure you have your reasons, but you should have told me before I found out." He stood up and walked out of the room, not sure where he was going, but knowing that he had to get as far away from her as possible.

-----------------------------

Onua sat on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chin and began to cry, sobbing as she had never done in her life. The biggest part of her wanted to go after her lover and try to get him to listen to her, so she could explain why she had had so many letters from a man she protested to hate.

Still crying, she stood up and began to pull clothes on over the shirt, wanting to cling onto that one item, as if it was Sarge himself. She inhaled deeply, smelling the material and his woody scent and wishing desperately to be in his arms. She pulled on as many layers as she could, knowing that she needed to keep warm to protect herself from the conditions outside. She figured he had gone to the stables as that was where he usually went when he needed some time to think. By the time she had dressed and gotten there, hopefully he would have calmed down and be ready to listen to reason. She raced outside, the tears still pouring down her cheeks and set off, hoping to find some way to make him understand.

---------------------

Sarge returned to their rooms after several hours of wandering around the less populated areas of the palace, pulling his thoughts together and deciding that he had been unreasonable, that Onua had always been trustworthy and fair and loving… and many other things he had never thought he would experience with another human being. He was concerned to find that she wasn't there and that several items of clothing had gone.

Reasoning to himself out loud, he figured that she had probably gone to check on the horses as she hadn't been there this morning. He sat down on the bed that they shared and wished that he hadn't been such a bumbling, righteous idiot by not giving her a chance to speak.

The box of letters sat beside him. He stared at them for a little while, wondering what was written in them. After much deliberation, curiosity finally got the better of him and he took them out and began to read.

In total there were ten letters, dated over two years and all but one were from her husband. Reading them he realised that her husband was now in prison in Carthak and was waiting for the death penalty to be administered. The story would have been a sad one, but for his knowledge of what the man had done to Onua. Bristan Laedin had been sentenced to death for the murder of the wife of a Copper Isles' ambassador after she had refused to be drawn into an affair with him. The whole scene had been observed by a maid who had hidden in the wardrobe, too afraid to do anything to help. Laedin's letters had ranged from blaming Onua for what had happen, making Sarge cringe when his attested all the responsibility to her for being a bad wife and leaving him, to begging her for forgiveness and asking her to ask Jonathan to intervene on her behalf.

Sarge hung his head in shame, partly for reading things that were obviously private and partly for not giving her the chance to explain and just walking out. He felt he was no better than the husband she had escaped from several years ago. He understood why she hadn't told anyone about what was happening – too many questions would be asked, and although they would have all been out of concern, Onua was too private for that. Jonathan would have offered his help should she have wanted it, thus putting her in the position whereby if she didn't say yes, she was having a hand in sending a man to his death,

Sarge stood up, determined to find her and persuade her that he knew he was an idiot, but he hoped she would love him anyway. He pulled on his jacket and headed towards the stables, the icy cold feeling as though it was freezing the very blood running through his veins.

There was no sign of Onua having been in the stables, or anywhere in close proximity to them. He continued his search, still unable to find her. The weather was worsening, and Sarge was beginning to worry. Hopefully he began to look inside the palace, the corridors empty as everyone had started to gather in the main hall for the celebrations. There was still no sign of her. He tracked back outside, looking in all the places where he might expect to see her. Her horses were both inside their stalls so he knew that she hadn't intended to have gone far, which was some relief, but not enough.

Now panicking, he raced towards the courtyard, trying to get his legs to move although they were now numb with the cold. He could barely see such was the blanket of white around him. He jolted open the doors into the main hall. Looking around with dying hope that Onua would be sat at the tables, telling everyone what a complete dolt he was.

She wasn't there. His heart went numb with fear and guilt. "Onua…" he began, before he fell to his knees, calling out in anguish.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I apologise in advance for any mistakes. Its late, I'm tired and this is the longest chapter I've ever done. Please review and make it all worth while! Next chapter will be up tomorrow (Sunday).