Lady Tonks of Wolf's Rock: Many thanks! Here's is the update, keep reviewing! NB44: It wasn't exactly my favourite chapter to write either. I've written a Midwinter before in Interlude, so it felt a little writing by numbers, although a part in this chapter made me cry when I wrote it (slightly hormonal!). See what you think. Aravilui: Thank you! That was a very kind review! Daine's Daughter: You know I don't kill off characters! Onua will be fine! Silverlake: I really like writing cliffies – and reading them! Bitterosemary: I have to pinch myself to remember to put Kitten in sometimes! She was useful in this chapter though. Celuna Cirrus: Everything about Onua will be revealed… Sonnet Lacewing: Numair is a typical – but very nice! – man. Chris is also a typical – but pain in the butt – man. He's just left for work and forgot to switch the heating on, so its now perishing! Aikia Riyen: I've just reread WM, and that was something I picked up on. Interesting. How's your hats? Dolphin Dreamer: It may be small magic for him, I suppose. Sometimes I do write things without thinking about it (I also say things like that too, which can get me into trouble!)!

Disclaimer: It belongs to Tamora Pierce.

Midwinter III

Chapter 3 – Wassailing

Daine's response was immediate. She shifted into the form of a large snowy owl, knowing that this would give her clear eyesight as well as the physical attributes to protect her from the cold. From Sarge's reaction, Onua was somewhere outside in the freezing snow. This was officially the coldest winter Corus had experienced in over fifty years, and if Onua had been out in it for any length of time then she could be in serious trouble. Daine shot through the door, noticing Kalasin and Lianne looking wistfully up at her. She also spotted Numair pointing briefly to her as she flew towards the doors that were still open after Sarge's dramatic entrance. She knew that Numair would be gathering facts; he had seated Sarge next to him, and was probably near interrogating the man as to where he had looked for the horse mistress. However, given that it wasn't known quite how long Onua had been outside for, Daine thought that she had better start looking immediately, and hopefully Numair would send her a speech spell if they discovered anything extra.

She flew quickly, her eyes continuously scanning the ground for signs of Onua. She saw no footprints around any side of the palace, although Daine assumed that this was because the snow was falling in such great quantities that any footprints would have been buried.

If the occasion had have been different then Daine would have enjoyed the flight through the snow, looking at all the trees and fields covered with the soft, white powder. She spotted icicles hanging for some of the larger branches and as she flew over the waterfall that was some way from the palace she saw that it too had frozen, creating a scene that was like something from a faerie wonderland.

Yet there was no sign of Onua. She headed back toward the palace, aiming to do a closer look around the stables. If Onua had gone anywhere today it would have been to check on the mounts there. Daine knew that that would have been the first place that Sarge had looked, and indeed, she could just make out his huge footprints that were quickly being buried under fresh snow. Sarge had obviously searched for Onua while he was feeling panicked and worried; he had also not had the benefit of a bird's eye view. Daine could see any unusual bumps in the ground, any gates that had been left strangely open and any places that might suggest that Onua had been there of was still there. From growing up in a place like Snowsdale, where the winters were always severe, Daine knew that if Onua had taken a fall or become unconscious due to the bitter cold then the falling snow would have covered her, and provided a layer that would have insulated her. Her heartbeat would have slowed and her mind would have drifted in a deep sleep.

The area around the stables appeared as normal, but for the fast disappearing imprints of Sarge's boots. Daine started to head to the other side of the palace, where Onua may have possibly exited the building and then walked around. Daine flew close to the ground, her sharp owl eyes scanning for any bump that looked unnatural. She noticed what looked like a small, snow covered rock jutting out of the level cover of snow. Flying down, she landed on it and began to attempt to dust off some of the snow using her beak. A few seconds of doing that and she began to form an idea of what might have happened to Onua. If she had walked around the palace this way,

she probably wouldn't have noticed the large rock, which would have been embedded in the snow, particularly if she wasn't concentrating on where she was putting her feet anyway.

Daine wondered what to do. She was certain that Onua had tripped and fell; the different levels in the snow certainly suggested that. She hopped around, looking for any signs that Onua had fallen. Changing shape, so it was easier to move in the snow and run across the ground, Daine became an arctic wolf, a smaller, pure white version of one of the animals she felt closest to. For a brief moment she revelled in the stronger senses she had, smelling the air around her and the ease of having four paws instead of just two. She padded around the area, sniffing deeply to try and pick up Onua's strong scent. She automatically noticed another familiar smell, and barked a greeting. Tahoi ran to her, his tail between his legs.

This is my fault, the large dog told her, automatically recognising Daine. I should have gone with her when she went looking for the big man. But it was so cold and the fire was warm…

It isn't your fault, it's no one's fault, Daine reassured him. But we need to find her, and two noses will be better than one.

They both began to sniff at the snow, trying to pick up on any trace of Onua. The snow muffled scents, making it a difficult job. Daine was beginning to think she was following a false lead when she heard Tahoi begin to bark loudly and rapidly. She ran to him, where he had uncovered a patch of red, blood stained snow, not far from where Daine had found the rock that she thought Onua may have stumbled over. She sniffed around the area and managed to pick up the scent by which she knew the horse mistress. She and Tahoi began to run towards a slight incline, at the bottom of which was an unfamiliar mass. They began to move away the snow on top of it and in a matter of seconds had uncovered the body of Onua Chamtong.

Daine told Tahoi to stay with his mistress while she went to find Numair. The big dog was crying loudly, and Daine didn't ask him to stop, knowing that the noise would lead people to the area maybe quicker than she could find Numair and bring him back. Running as fast as she could, she discovered the mage with Alanna, Harailt and Lindhall, all wrapped up and making their way in the direction of the stables. She altered her wolf head to that of her own so she could speak, thus creating a look of shock on the Lioness's face, such was the strangeness of the sight.

"We've found her. She's near the hill that leads over to the north east forest," Daine said, panting slightly with the run.

"Is she alive?" Alanna asked, beginning to move in the direction that Daine had indicated.

"I don't know. I didn't check for a pulse. The layer of snow on top of her would have kept her warm…" Daine began. Alanna nodded, and began to run, Numair and Lindhall following. It was heavy work for the three humans as the snow was deep and it was tiring to lift feet out of it, but in a few minutes they had reached where Onua lay, Tahoi still standing guard over her, howling loudly.

Alanna knelt down beside Onua and checked with her gift for her heart. "She's breathing," she announced, looking up briefly from her patient. "We need to give her warm air to breath. Numair took off his thick coat and handed it to Alanna. Alanna placed it over her and Onua's faces, warming the oxygen that Onua was inhaling. Daine could see purple fire surrounding the horse mistress and knew that Alanna was using her gift to heal what damage the cold had done.

After five or so minutes, Alanna instructed Numair and Harailt to pick Onua up and get her back to the infirmary and Duke Baird as soon as they could. They headed quickly back to the palace, a pause in the falling of the snow assisting them, although they still had to contend with the lack of light.

Daine ran back to her rooms, quickly shifting back to her own form once she had privacy and dressing in breeches and a warm shirt, with several more layers underneath. Her dress she would recover from the hall later. She looked down at her right hand and saw Numair's ring still on her finger. Feeling a warm glow inside her, she headed straight to the infirmary, desperate to check on her friend.

Several people were crowded around Onua's bed already. Sarge was sat next to her, his large hands covering hers, a look of worry etched upon his face. Onua still hadn't recovered consciousness; her eyes remained closed and she lay as still as stone. Numair saw Daine and came over to her, putting an arm around her shoulder and kissing her curls.

"You did well, Magelet," he told her. "She's expected to recover with no damage done. There's no problem with her lungs, thank to Alanna's air warming and no sign of frostbite. She will just need to rest."

"Shouldn't we let her and Sarge be?" Daine asked, wondering why so many people were overflowing Duke Baird's rooms.

"Yes. We do have Midwinter to celebrate, and it will only make Onua feel worse if everything else was forgotten because of what has happened," Numair left her briefly to go to the king. Daine saw Jonathan nod in agreement and begin to ask people to return to the hall, where the rest of the celebratory dinner would be served.

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The atmosphere of the meal had been curtailed by Onua's condition; although she was going to make a complete recovery, and the latest reports form the infirmary suggested that she had begun to wake, people were sobered by the knowledge of what could have been. She had been lucky. It had been estimated that she had been outdoors for five hours; any longer and it was doubtful that she would have made it.

The main noise in the room came from the children, who didn't quite understand what the possible outcomes of the situation could have been and were now happily playing with their new toys or, as in the case of Liam and Jasson, chasing each other around the room that linked on to the hall. Daine watched them in amusement, knowing that at some point one of them would fly into one of the chair legs and it would all end in tears.

Daine sat close to Numair, who was making the most of having a Midwinter where there would be no sudden need to use his gift to destroy any immortals, and indulging himself in the correctly made Lamb's Wool, that Alanna had kept George far away from while it was being mixed. Unfortunately, however much Numair seemed to drink, his head never hurt too much the following day. Sometimes, Daine wished it would, and then at least it might deter him from drinking so much that she almost had to carry him up the stairs to their rooms.

The tables were cleared and music began. Daine felt herself being glided about the dance floor in a slow manner, leaning into the mage, his hair neatly clipped back at the base of his neck and one ruby drop that hung from his left ear that Daine knew to hold spells for extending his hearing. He wore smart, black breeches and a white linen shirt that Daine had ironed for him the previous day. Daine looked into his eyes, which were dancing at they regarded her, and she remembered the shock waves that she had felt when he first kissed her, several months ago now. She put her arms tightly around his broad chest and drew herself closer, needing to have every part of her touching him.

"What are you thinking?" Numair asked her, just about managing to lead her in time with the music with her standing so close.

"Just how glad I am that I fell down that cliff when we were in the divine realms," she answered, moving her lips up to his by standing on tiptoes and pulling him down. "Otherwise, we might still have been gazing across the room at each other, with all our friends wondering when we were actually going to confess what we felt."

Numair grinned. He had endured a torturous few months in many ways, having to hide what he felt from Daine, not knowing if even dropping a hint about how he felt was inappropriate, given that she was his student and that he was fourteen years her elder. Now she was his lover and was now living with him. They both readily accepted that they were the each the other half of the other, and somehow became complete when they were together.

"Who says that I would be gazing across the room at you?" He asked with mock indignance. "There would be plenty of ladies here who I may also wish to attempt to court."

Daine pulled a face at him. "I would be careful what you say, Master Numair, else you may be very cold in that big bed tonight, all by yourself."

Numair smiled, kissing her softly. "I would indeed be gazing at you, as I have done for most of tonight, even though you have been sat next to me. I probably would have gone out of my mind by now, had I not confessed. Either that, or I would have blurted it out in such a pathetic and strange manner that you would have run away from me and never wanted to see me again."

Daine laughed at the idea, considering it to be completely ridiculous. "I can't imagine not being here with you like this. I think by now that I would have had to have told you. I never quite understood what I was feeling until we kissed, and then it all came rushing home."

Numair leant down and kissed her again, feeling more relaxed and happy than he had done in his life. "Shall we go to bed?" He whispered into her ear. "It looks like Kitten will be occupied with the children for a while longer."

Daine looked at him with laughing eyes. "It's fair early yet, Numair," she looked around room. People were dancing and talking, she saw Alanna and George kissing under the mistletoe and Buri and Raoul sharing a dance together. In one corner she could see and hear Jasson being told off by his father for pinching one of Lianne's toys. The small boy was now stamping his feet dramatically and telling Jonathan that he hated him. Daine smothered a small smile and looked at the mage, whose attention had also been caught by the child.

"I bet you were like that when you were small," Daine said, teasingly.

"Never! I was a good child!" Numair protested. "Really, Daine, I don't think anyone will notice if we slip away." His voice quietened as he said the last part.

Daine gave him a smile that made his legs turn to jelly and his heart melt. "Okay," she said softly. "No one will notice if we slip away for half an hour."

"Half an hour?" Numair responded indignantly. "I would hope we'll be longer than that!"

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Sarge sat by Onua's bed, his hand covering hers. Everyone had left them now, giving her the peace that she needed to recuperate. She hadn't woken yet from the deep slumber that worried him so, although she had begun to move some, her fingers locking around his and her lips opening as if she was about to say something. He wondered what she would have to say to him when she woke up. If it was him he would be furious. Sarge knew that he should have allowed her to answer, to reason with him, and instead he had behaved like an idiot and stormed off, only thinking of his own selfish being. He knew Onua better than to believe that she would do anything to hurt him. Tears stung his eyes as he looked at her, wondering if on the morrow he would be moving back into his old rooms. He desperately hoped not, wishing with all his heart that she would forgive him, and that they could continue their relationship.

Onua's eyelids began to twitch open and she looked into the face of her lover.

"Sarge!" She called before feeling the contents of her stomach turn over and begun to heave. The man pushed a bowl under her, which she vomited into. The healers had warned him that it would be likely side effect as they suspected that she had knocked her head on a stone when she had fallen, and would now have concussion.

Once she had recovered herself, Onua sank her back onto the comfy headboard of the bed and looked rather embarrassed as she met Sarge's eyes.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I didn't want you to see me like that."

Sarge shook his head, wondering how he could make this up to her. "I'm sorry I ran off like a fool. I should have listened to what you had to say…" He suddenly found it difficult to speak, something the trainees would have found amusing, as many of them had wished he had lost the ability to communicate many-a-time.

"No," she stopped him from trying to carry on. "You reacted like that for a reason. I should have told you about the letters from Bristan when we first got involved." She stopped, nausea taking over her again. Sarge held her hair away from her face as she vomited.

"Maybe we should save the explanations until you're feeling better," he suggested, stroking her hair back from her face.

"Maybe," she responded quietly, turning her head to look at him. "Did you read the letters?"

Sarge felt extremely guilty and dishonest. He nodded, not knowing what to say.

Onua smiled, the last thing he though she would do. "I'm glad. I was going to show you anyway. I had hoped that it would explain why I had never said anything before about him writing to me," she looked at his face for his reaction and only saw an emotion there that made her heart sing when she recognised it.

One of the healers popped her head round the curtains that separated the bed from the rest of the room so the occupier could be quite private. She noticed that Onua was awake and went in to check on her.

"Good to see you're back with us," the healer – Michaiah – said softly. "It looks like you had a fall and banged your head. That probably knocked you out. Why you were outdoors in this weather is beyond me!" Michaiah had been a healer at the palace since Jonathan was a baby and there was little that she hadn't seen in her career. She eyed Sarge, still clutching at Onua's hand, and looked at the horse mistress. Although no one had told her what had gone on, she had a very good idea.

"Next time you have a quarrel, keep it in your own room. You'll have a much comfier bed to make up in," she said, a wry smile on her face as she used her gift to heal the large gash on Onua's face where she had knocked herself.

Sarge felt himself blush at the words, thinking how ridiculous the situation had been and the result of it all. The Midwinter dinner had been stopped because of them, people had been outside in the atrocious weather conditions because of a silly argument. He looked at Onua, her face showing the discomfort she was in as the healer did her job. Michaiah checked the patient's head with her gift, nodding as she finished.

"You've been lucky, girl. Don't go taking no walks outside in weather like this again. Next time the gods might not be smiling on you," the healer said with a smile. She turned to Sarge, addressing him. "She'll be fine to spend the night in her own rooms; you can take her back in another two or three hours. She needs to be kept warm and quiet and if she goes to sleep and you can't wake her then you will need to bring her back here, although if I thought that was going to happen I wouldn't let her go." Smiling at them, Michaiah left to go and check on the rest of the patients; one of the King's Own had just been brought it after consuming too much wassail, and falling down in a heap when he attempted to find his rooms.

Sarge swung his long legs up on the bed, and put his arm around Onua so that her head could rest on his chest. She saw the scars on his wrists from where he had been bound as a slave and gently moved her fingers over them. When she looked up at him, he saw that she was crying silently, the tears running down her cheeks like a river.

"What's the matter?" he asked, knowing that whenever she was upset he felt like his own heart was breaking.

"I thought you wouldn't want me back," she told him, the words straining to get through her tears. "I knew I should have told you about the letters from Bristan, and about how he wanted me to go to the king so Jonathan would intervene and grant him a reprieve. But I didn't want him to get a reprieve. He killed another woman, Sarge, because she wouldn't share his bed. I was ashamed enough of what he did to me, but to have people know that my ex-husband murdered someone…"

Sarge kissed the top of her head. "Chances are if you had told me I would have gone to Carthak and killed him myself. You were forced into an arranged marriage with him, Onua, he left you for dead after putting you through hell. For that I would like to squeeze my hands around his neck. I just want you to know that you can tell me anything, though. I want you to," Sarge felt a little concerned when her tears came quicker. He wondered if he had said the wrong things, having never spoken words like that to any one before.

"Why have I made you cry more? Have I said something I shouldn't?" He asked in a quiet voice, concerned reflecting in his eyes. He put a finger under Onua's chin and tilted her head so she looked up at him. Her lips began to quiver as she spoke.

"I love you," she said quietly when the tears would allow her. Sarge lowered his head down and kissed her, realising that they were stronger than any snowstorm or ex-husband put together.

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Daine and Numair emerged after a slightly longer length of time than they had anticipated, Daine with rather flushed cheeks and Numair looking quite pleased with himself. Their absence hadn't gone unnoticed by Thayet who eyed them keenly as they re-entered the hall. The younger children had now been put to bed, Jasson's outburst illustrating how tired they were after such a long, exhausting day.

Thayet beckoned Numair and Daine to sit with her and Jonathan, who were now sitting rather serenely at a table, wielding glasses of wassail and enjoying the rest of the child-free evening.

"And where have you two been?" Thayet enquired in her cool tones.

Daine blushed. Numair smiled. "We, er, went to admire the stars," the mage explained.

Jonathan smiled viciously. "Numair, it's snowing. There are no stars to be seen tonight."

Numair shot him a look he could be jailed for. Thayet laughed and let the subject go, not needing any further details.

"Onua has woken and been allowed back to her rooms," she informed them, smiling.

"That was quick!" Numair exclaimed. "I thought she would have been two or three days at least. She was out in the snow for hours!"

Thayet shook her head. "She always was as tough as old boots. The healing Alanna gave her on sight helped a great deal, and as she collapsed into a slight drift the snow insulated her, stopping any hypothermia from setting in. The worst thing she had was concussion."

"And she and Sarge are fair well?" Daine asked, as Kitten bounded up to her and scrambled onto her knee and then across to Numair's.

"Mithos, Mynos and Shakith, Kit! We need to stop you eating so much! You're getting a little heavy to be sat their now!" Numair said to the small dragon, who managed to look hurt at his words.

"You've offended her now!" Thayet scolded. "Anyway. Yes, Onua and Sarge are both fine. He came down briefly to tell us how she was with a massive beaming smile on his face. I didn't ask for any details…"

"I'm not quite sure how you managed that, actually," Jonathan interrupted. "I was quite surprised when you didn't interrogate him!"

Thayet shot him a look of death, which just cause the king to smile sweetly. "He's obviously very happy, so everything must have been resolved," she finished, taking a gulp of the glass of wassail.

"Here's to Onua and Sarge, then," Numair held up a glass of the traditional Midwinter drink that a page had just brought to him in a toast.

"Onua and Sarge," the other three echoed his words, chinking their glasses together.

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Daine woke the following morning with a head that felt like someone had used it as target practise in a rock throwing contest. Groaning, she dug Numair in the back with her knee and made him wake up.

"My head hurts. Can I have some of that thing that you give to Harailt when he had too much wine?" She begged, her hands holding her pounding head.

Numair laughed softly and got out of the bed, throwing a nearby towel around his naked form. He grabbed a bottle of his hangover remedy and passed it to Daine.

"You didn't have that much to drink," he smiled, as she drank the noxious liquid.

"I just think it doesn't agree with me very much," she answered, her head immediately beginning to clear. "How come you never have to take any of this?"

Numair curled back up in bed, moving himself closer to his lover. "I inherited my father's talent for not having any repercussions with alcohol," he explained. Daine nestled up to his chest and began to nuzzle the black hair that was scattered on it. Numair shivered, feeling his body react. He wondered if it would always be like this with them, with his thirst for her unquenched. She smiled at him, those big blue-grey eyes looking into his.

"Magelet," he began, knowing the answer to what he was going to say already, but needing to say it anyway. "Marry me?"

Daine nuzzled in closer to his chest, not responding to his question just yet. She kissed his neck, feeling his skin develop tiny bumps as she moved across it. She moved her head away and looked at him.

"I think we should stick to what we decided before," she said, seeing the hurt in his eyes. "Numair…"

"Sshhh," he whispered, his hand going to her bare back and moving her as close as possible to him. "I knew the answer when I asked, but I needed to ask it anyway. I have never experienced these emotions before, and its one of the ways I can react to them."

Daine giggled and kissed him. "One day I'll say yes, she promised. "How are we going to spend the day?" She changed the subject, not wanting to dwell too much on the topic.

"I thought we might spend some of the morning here," Numair began, his hand trailing delightfully across Daine's back. "Then later this afternoon we are going to go and wassail the trees."

Daine looked at him suspiciously.

"It's a ceremony to thank the trees for their fruit and ask them to produce more in the next year. It's meant to wake them up now that the days are beginning to grow longer. It's an old tradition, first…"

Daine let him talk for a little longer, explaining all the details that he knew about the tradition of wassailing. She ran her fingers over his chest and gave him a look that stopped his speech.

"I like the part about staying here best," she told him quietly, and occupied his mouth with hers.

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Expect the first chapter of Imbolc to be up tomorrow (morning in the uk - so you Americans will still be asleep when I'm posting!). I will carry into on in this story as Imbolc PartI.

This is on the condition that I get lots of REVIEWs