Mage's Whisper: Thank you. I have been thinking about "Wicker Man" while I've been writing these stories. I may well watch it again when I've finished them – it's very interesting. Aravilui: Thank you! I'm glad it hit the right level drama wise. Silverlake: Thank you! Jade-Viper08: I like fluff far too much to leave her broken hearted! Bitterosemary: It's quite disturbing when you get to the point of liking a man's foibles. Particularly if he is just a character. But how amazing that so many of us still love Numair! He has his tip off in the next chapter! Lady Tonks: They may not have done. I figured that she wouldn't have worn a pregnancy charm on their honeymoon, and probably fell pregnant straight away, as Roald was born in the first year of their marriage. I played with the facts a little! Goldeneyedwildmage: I am honoured to have you bow! Can someone please kidnap me and take me somewhere nice? Preferably somewhere hot as it's snowing over here! Music Nerd: I apologise for the term. My music knowledge isn't up to much and I used the word a little too easily. Maura would now be about 13, but seeing as she is pretty much alone, I figured she would still act quite young – she's not had much reason to grow up quick. Thank you for all your reviews, btw! Celuna Cirrus: Don't worry, they won't divorce! Animal Writer 01: Thank you. I think that's how Numair and Jon would have talked! Fidella: Thank you. I read up on the using of the old yule tree and I probably meant to include it. Sometimes I note stuff down and end up forgetting to put it in! Thank you for the compliments! Sonnet Lacewing: I liked that line too. Sometimes men seem to think they have to solve everything when all we need is a good hug, as we are more than capable of solving it for ourselves. Dolphin Dreamer: An argument's a strong possibility, maybe not in this fic, but certainly in Stones (the next one). I can't help the humour. I love writing fanfics, its good practise for my own book, but I need to take the mickey out of myself sometimes for doing it, and that's the way it comes out. Weird I know! Thank you for your review, as always. Drop Your Oboe: A few weeks probably refers to around 7 or 8, then she lost the child two weeks ago. I kept it vague as I didn't think that Thayet would want to talk about it in too much detail.

I apologise for the Roald/Raoul error, more than one person has mentioned it. I do proof read, but because I know what is coming next, some things escape me and I don't pick up. I will try to do better in future….

Disclaimer - all characters belong to Tamora Pierce.

Beltane Part III

Chapter 3 – Dusk

Sarge took Onua in his arms and simply held her as they looked toward the forest. The gathering of people had lessened as they went to their homes and rooms to ready themselves for the evening's celebrations. The forest was peacefully still, the air warm and the breeze slight enough to not even blow at the leaves. A field full of wild flowers separated them from the first of the trees, their heads standing still as if they were saluting the end of the day.

The bright light has dimmed along with the noise and only a few voices carried on the still air. Thayet had woken earlier; her first reaction had been to cry as she immediately remembered what had gone by. Onua knew that she was still grieving for her unborn child, and the one person who could help soothe her was conspicuous by his absence. Onua had comforted her some more, and Thayet had decided that she needed some time to not think and had headed for the field where some of the horses had been led to, intending to ride until the time when she had to face her husband and get ready for the feast.

Sarge had come back to his lover with open arms and no questions. He knew her well enough now to know that if she wanted to talk or some help or advice, she would ask, and otherwise she just needed to know that he was there and he cared. She knew that he would have worked out what had gone on with Thayet and Jonathan by now, and he didn't ask to be filled in, for which she was grateful. Then they had stepped outside and walked to the vast field, empty but for the flowers and animals that had gathered there and looked out into the distance.

She felt a comfort she had only recently come to know. In this man's hold she felt safe, that nothing bad could come to her. Just hearing him breathe gave her peace and she wondered why it had taken her years to notice.

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

Thayet had ridden fast and far across the fields, her dark hair blown back by the breeze her movement created. The horse she rode was temperamental for most riders, but not for her, and he had served her well during this journey, strongly taking her across the palace grounds to the fields on the outskirts of the city.

Now they had paused, the sun lowering from the sky, streams of red, yellow and orange waving from the ball of fire. The sun seemed at its largest when it set, yet it cast little light. It was all burnt up for the day, which was remarkably similar to how Thayet felt, burnt up and empty. She felt as though she had lost something precious, more precious than the air around her. Losing her baby had been devastating, and she had needed Jon to be there. Yet his response had been to cover his eyes and pretend that nothing had happened, distancing himself from her so he didn't have to feel.

And now she felt that she had lost him, and for all that he had annoyed her and made her feel as if she needed to implode she still just wanted to be held close to him, and told everything would be alright.

She stayed for a while, watching the slowly setting sun. Dusk was always her favourite time of day, with its many faces. It could be the end of a long day, when people were finally relaxing and the earth was slowing down for its sleep; it could be the time before night when her adrenaline began to run fast around her veins in anticipation for what was about to come or like last summer, it was the time when she felt the red sky reflected the bloodshed on the ground. She remembered Daine telling her that the sky in the divine realms reflected the goings on in the mortal realms; sometimes she wondered if the sky above her reflected what was being felt in the hearts of the people below it. Tonight she questioned that, as what was above her was beautiful, the myriad of colours cascading across the vast expanse of sky, even the few clouds had been tainted with the shades of the coming night. Thayet felt far from beautiful. She felt that something inside her was eating her up. Sighing deeply, she gave the scene once last glance and then turned her horse and began to canter back to toward the palace, the feel of the cooling air on her face soothing her slightly. She had one more thing she wished to do before facing her husband, and for that she needed to be in the woods, where the Hawthorne trees were.

She slowed her horse as she reached the point, finding the largest of the trees that she knew grew in the forest. Leaving her mount in the knowledge that he wouldn't wander of she approached the tree with some reverence. Hawthorne trees were associated with faeries, particularly on this day of the year. This particular specimen sat in a clearing, its thick truck climbing high, and flowering branches spreading out overhead. Thayet stood near to the tree, closing her eyes softly and imagining its spirit. In some lore trees were believed to have magical properties, hence the tradition of wassailing the trees at Midwinter and thanking their spirits. She tied a piece of red cloth around on one of the low branches, red was associated with love and she needed some help form the faerie folk with regards to her love right now.

Taking deep breaths and desperately trying to stop herself from crying again she began to visualise the happy times that she and Jon had had; the first time she had met him, their wedding day, the birth of each of their children, the many, many times they had had with their friends, moments of lovemaking that seemed to have brought the rest of the world to a stand still, and time when it had just been them alone in a room with no need for anyone else. Then she forced herself to imagine a happy future for them and found that it wasn't that difficult for she wanted it so much. She chanted quietly what she wished for, that the differences between her and her husband would be resolved, still trying to visualise their making up in her mind.

Eventually, she ceased the chanting, bending down to the foot of the tree and leaving a gift of a small bottle of scent that she had asked Onua for before she had left the horse mistress' rooms. She sat down in a heap next to the tree and held her head in her hands. She didn't know how she would get through the rest of the night, having to put on a show for those present that she and Jonathan were as much in love as usual. She knew that she still loved him as much, else she was sure that she wouldn't feel as if someone had torn her heart from her chest.

She looked up at the sound of a noise; in the distance she saw a familiar figure, leaning next to a tree, watching her. She stood up at the sight of him and took a tentative step forward.

He came to her, for her it seemed like it took an age before he reached where she was standing and took her in his arms, her head buried in his chest as she sobbed half with relief into his shirt. She felt his arms tight around her and his nose nuzzle into her hair. For a second, she moved and looked up at him and saw that his eyes were filled with tears and then she realised that everything would sort itself out.

Jonathan found Numair's advice rather easier than he'd imagined to administer. She wanted him to hold her and he wondered if he'd done that two weeks ago whether everything would have been avoided. Or maybe this was something the Goddess had planned. He felt his heart expand with what he felt for her as the water in his eyes flooded over and trickled down onto her hair. Moving her so she could see him he looked at her, feeling as if he was drowning in the words he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry," he managed to muster. "I've been an idiot."

She regarded him with dark eyes. "Maybe we've both been idiots," she said through sniffles.

Jonathan shook his head. "No, it's been me. I should have talked to you about what I thought." They sat down, huddled together, Jon almost cradling his wife in his arms.

"What happened?" She asked him softly. He leaned back against the trunk of a tree.

"I wanted you to myself for awhile," he confessed, realising how pathetic she must think him to be. "You kept on about wanting another baby with the others getting older, and I just felt like I wasn't enough for you." He was surprised at how easily the words came out and how relieved he felt to say them. Then he wondered if he's said the wrong things as Thayet's eyes began to stream with tears.

She edged her body to face him and brought her lips to his, kissing him softly, her tears dropping like stones onto his face.

"Silly man," she said, when she broke the kiss. "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"Because I thought it was stupid. You wanted another baby so much, and I felt selfish for not agreeing, and it entered my brain that you wanted another child so we would have a chaperone. I just wanted you to myself for once," Jon realised how his words sounded.

"And you didn't think that it was because I loved you so much that I wanted to have part of you growing inside of me, and that I desperately wanted to be a mother again and to have that bond of having a child together with you?" Her words were spoken almost angrily. "When I lost our child you showed nothing. You didn't even hold me."

Jon looked at her, fear and shame in his eyes. "I felt guilty, Thayet. I hadn't wanted the baby and I wondered if it was my fault that it had been taken away. I didn't know what to do, or how to feel."

"Were you not saddened?" She demanded. Although her tone was one of reprimand, she still curled up to him as if she was sharing his life supply.

"Yes," he whispered back. "How could I not be." It was not a question, simply a statement to which Thayet had no answer. "I didn't mean what I said, about having separate rooms," he added. She smiled a little, and he noticed that both their daughters had inherited that same smile, the one that meant that they weren't happy, but things would get better. He moved a tendril of hair from her face to behind her ear, and was swamped by the black eyes he looked into. He moved his back from the tree and lay himself down next to her. The sun had now disappeared completely; the only light from the moon and stars that hung above them, watching the stories told below them. The night was still warm, warm enough so that Numair would throw the covers off the bed in the middle of the night in his, thus waking Daine, and Jonathan felt no discomfort as he lay down on a bed of moss in the forest, with no footmen about him, or servants or members of his council. It was just him and Thayet and the night.

"What about the feast?" Thayet looked at him. "We will be missed."

Jonathan relaxed a little. "Numair knows where I've gone," he told her. "He said he'll feed a line to the people at the gathering about us being ill, so don't worry."

Thayet laughed. "Jonathan of Conte, I have never known you tell such a lie before! This is your duty – to build relations with other countries and do what's best for Tortall!"

Jonathan shook his head. "Right now, my duty is to make sure my wife is going to be back in my bed with me, and that she is happy to do so."

Thayet smiled. "We missed bringing in the may last night," she hinted. Her eyes were bloodshot with tears and lids puffy with the river she had wept, but he still found her to be the most perfect woman he had met. He kissed her gently, forgetting that he was king and meant to be at a Beltane celebration, just wanting to be with this woman next to him. And nothing else mattered.

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

Daine was in the bath when she heard a loud clatter coming from Numair's study, where the mage had blocked himself in since returning from walking the boundary with Jonathan. He had briefly explained to her what had happened through the door, using a spell to amplify their voices so that they could hear each other through the thick walls. She felt saddened by what he had told her, explaining how Thayet and Jon had come to falling out. On auto speech, as Daine could tell that he was now in the throws of an experiment of some sorts, he had begun to tell her his own ideas for a family.

Finally she had walked away from the door, after he had described every possibility of gift that any of their potential offspring might have and entertained the notion of a child that could shape shift without tiring and have a gift as strong as Numair's, a thought which made her rather relieved that they had agreed to wait for awhile before having a family. She prepared herself a bath and settled down; leaving a rather nauseous Kitten asleep on their bed after George had indulged her too much with sweets.

The bang woke her from a half sleep and she immediately stood up and pulled a large fluffy towel around her. Leaving wet footprints, she dashed to the door between Numair's study and their sitting room, banging urgently on it, worried by the silence that had ensued.

The door creaked open and the tall mage stood rather sheepishly in front of her.

"What in the name of Shakith has happened?" She demanded.

A smile that a child who had just been caught doing something naughty might wear crept onto Numair's face.

"Are you alright?" Daine asked, now worried.

Numair nodded, then held up a length of thick black hair in his hand, tied with a thin strip of leather. She noticed that the ends were singed.

"What happened?" She asked, trying her best not to laugh at the fact that Numair appeared to have removed one of his pride and joys. She poked her head round the door and saw that his study looked as if a hurricane had hit it.

"I was attempting a new spell, to deepen the walls of protection around the palace grounds. It was just a trial, so I used a model. It went wrong," Numair said quietly, his eyes lingering on the hair he held.

Daine burst out laughing, no longer able to contain herself. "How did you lose your hair," she said in between giggles.

"It was a potion, and I had my back to it when I said a few words. It could have been worse," Numair said, still looking at his hair.

Daine put her arms around his neck and pulled herself close to him. "It's only hair, Numair. It will grow back. Your hair does grow quickly, and it was fairly short for you at the moment anyway. It'll be back to that length in a few weeks."

He put the tail of hair down on a table near him and held Daine to him. "It feels strange," he said, shaking his head, missing the feel of the hair against his neck.

"It will," Daine giggled. "Hadn't you best find someone to cut it properly?" Numair nodded, raising one hand to try and touch the missing hair. "I'll go now and see. George and Harailt will love this when they see it!" He said as he left the room to leave their home. Daine watched him go through amused eyes, waiting until he had gone before she began laughing again, and moved the tail of hair into a bin for disposal.

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

The largest banqueting room in the palace was filled with people when Daine and Numair entered, his hair neatly trimmed. Daine found that she couldn't stop looking at it, so used to seeing him with a horse tail, or at night with his hair lose about his face. She thought it made him look younger, emphasizing the structure of his face and highlighting his eyes.

He caught her staring and gave her a worried look. "Does it look that bad?" He murmured as they sat down, Numair noting that the places set for the king and queen were empty.

Daine smiled and shook her head. "I think it makes you look more dashing, if anything," she assured.

Gareth the Elder rushed round to Numair, an air of panic about him. "Would you know the whereabouts of the king and queen?" He asked Numair, not noticing his new haircut.

Numair nodded, a dash of red emerging on his cheeks. "I think they're not well, sir. The king mentioned before that Thayet had been unwell all day and that he didn't feel too good himself," he lied, knowing that Jon had gone to find her in the forests, having had Numair sense her out to the best of his abilities. He just hoped that Jon had found her and had not ended up getting lost and walking round in circles.

The Duke nodded. "I had wondered where Thayet had been all day. She's usually at the centre of an event like this. I shall make an announcement to those present."

Numair smiled, looking briefly around the room and noticing that there were at least two hundred people gathered. The Duke called for silence and announced that the king and queen would not be present due to illness. Numair sent a quick prayer to which ever gods were listening that if they did come back to join the celebrations later on, hopefully as a happy couple, they would at least have the sense to look slightly sickly.

The meal passed by slowly, Numair counted at least eight different courses, all of them a little too appetising and now unfortunately he felt about as much like dancing as he did pulling his teeth out. However, they would be expected to, so he braced himself and prepared for indigestion later on. He wondered about how Thayet and Jonathan were going on and hoped that they had resolved their differences. He imagined that they would have. From what Onua had said, Thayet did not want her marriage to be over and he knew that Jonathan didn't want that either. Gazing at Daine next to him, he wondered if they would ever face such trials. He imagined so, most couples did at one point, hence Greenwood marriages - many of the likes of which had been performed last night at Beltane when couples made love in the woods and promised to be together for a year and a day - were something to be welcomed, giving couples the chance to see if they were compatible, and if they weren't, they could separate after that length of time. He and Daine had performed the ritual last night; but their promise had been for a lot longer than a year and a day, although Numair doubted that they would have a handfasting ceremony at next year's Midsummer.

The servants and pages began to clear the table of dishes, plates and cutlery, leaving the wine glasses and tankards, much to the relief of many. Although this was a formal occasion the atmosphere still retained some of the lightness and vibrancy of the festival, a few of the guests were dressed in traditional outfits, one man having decorated his face with leaves in honour of the Green Man. Many of the women, including Daine, wore white dresses, while most of the men had a little green or red on some part of their attire.

As they stood up to move to the rooms attached to the main hall, Numair's eye was caught by his lover. He allowed himself to look intently at her as she slid her chair under the table and passed a comment with Lord Imrah who had been sat on the other side of Kitten. Slender, with a figure that drew glances from most red-blooded males and blessed with huge blue-grey eyes and masses of smoky brown hair, she was laughing, her full lips curling up. He knew he was completely besotted with her. The white dress she wore was of fine cotton, simply designed so that it showed off her curves to their best advantage. Unable to resist, particularly as he had noticed two of the King's Own gazing at her with thoughts that would probably make Alanna blush, he slid over to her and put his hands around her waist from behind her. Daine turned her head and grinned back at him, leaning a little to rest herself on him. Lord Imrah smiled knowingly at the two mages, his own hand reaching for his lady's. Marielle took it, smiling at her husband and then at Daine and Numair.

"It's contagious, isn't it?" She laughed. "Every Beltane he turns into some romantic, bubbling fool. I expect that Numair's still like that all the time though," she added to Daine who laughed and looked at Numair, reaching up to touch where his horse tail used to be.

"I thought something was different," Imrah said, looking up at Numair's hair. "Did you decide on a change?"

Numair smiled uncomfortably. "It was an accident," he muttered, almost inaudibly.

Marielle smiled, amused. "It becomes you. It makes you look younger."

Numair seemed pleased at the compliment, his hand leaving Daine's waist and going up to touch his neatly shorn hair.

The evening began to speed up, as the music was played and people danced. Daine found herself and Numair stood with Alanna and George, with George amusing himself by spouting out various witty comments about Numair's change in hair style. Numair tried not to be drawn into it; he had expected some teasing and banter about his now short hair, but had so far managed to get away without explaining how it had come to be.

"So how did this actually happen?" Alanna inquired, a large glass of wine in her hand. Daine began to laugh quietly. "You would never have had your hair cut on purpose; it's been your pride and joy for far too long."

Numair grimaced. There was no use in hiding the truth from Alanna. She was always like the annoying older sister he had never had, and hadn't wished to either. "I was experimenting," he said, sighing deeply.

"Aren't you a bit passed that?" George interjected. "By your time of life you should have found what you were into already."

Numair pulled a face. "I was trying a new spell to strengthen areas of the perimeter that are less secure. Jon has reinforced one area this afternoon, and I had identified other parts that also needed it, but I wanted to see if there was another way, that wouldn't drain anyone's gift. I had my back to a potion that was brewing and as I said a few words that were meant to assist in the protection the flame under the potion flared up and got the back of my shirt and my hair. It just came off in one great rope."

Alanna and George both fought laughter. Daine tried not to join in.

"Oh, that's not all that happened this holiday," he began, quite enjoying the attention and wanting to stop Alanna from making any little, irritating comments. "Daine's parents paid us a visit."

Alanna smiled at Daine. "We didn't see them. I would have liked to. When were they here?"

Daine began to laugh. "It was lovely to see them, but they had fair bad timing," she glanced at Numair, who was now smiling, having recovered from the incident. "They turned up in the woods on Beltane eve," she continued.

"At a rather inopportune moment," Numair finished. "I could have been worse, I hasten to add.

Alanna laughed. "I'm surprised Weiryn let you live!"

Numair nodded. "I was in fear for my life for a few seconds. I think he found it rather amusing that he'd spoilt my fun."

Daine smiled, tucking her hand into Numair's. "He'd spoilt mine too. He wouldn't kill you, Numair. He knows I quite like you and he wants to make sure that I'm happy, so he'd keep you alive."

Numair smiled at the love of his life and whisked her into his arms. George, who had Alanna nestled in the crook of his, grinned as he watched them step into a dance, Numair and Daine smiling at each other, completely infatuated. He pulled his own wife a little closer to him, and brought his face closer to hers. She beamed at him and he recognised the look of mischief in her eyes.

"Rather reminds me of a time when we were nearly interrupted," she said quietly into his ear.

George smiled and nodded. "Myles wouldn't have noticed, and we were in the room where he keeps his drink." Alanna laughed at the recollection. "I walked in on him and Ma once," George added.

"You never said!" She chuckled.

"I think I tried to bury the memory. They were totally unawares," he replied. He caught Alanna's eye and both started to laugh, drawing a few looks from the people stood nearby.

Daine and Numair slinked outside to take in some of the cool night air. The atmosphere inside had continued the raucousness of the daytime, and people who would usually be too solemn to dance were now moving in time, although at little stiffly, with the music. Wine had passed the lips of some who usually reserved it for times of shock or for medicinal purposes only, although Lady Cayala, a rather stately maiden, was rumoured to think that the recommended one glass a night of wine extended to a bottle.

They sat on a bench facing away from the palace. In the distance the forest could be seen, its trees waving to them in the soft breeze that was now cooling the air and Daine felt the peace of the outdoors, compared with the noise coming from inside the palace. It was rather soothing to be outside on occasions like this, stepping away from the strident atmosphere indoors and sit where it could just be heard enough to be able to appreciate escaping from it for a few minutes. She looked towards the suite of rooms that the king and queen utilised, and noticed the twinkling of candles in the window. It appeared that they had returned.

About to re-enter the palace Numair turned back and pointed over to the king's abode. Two figures that were almost blending into one emerged from the doorway and both Numair and Daine stood entranced as they saw Jonathan bend down and kiss his wife.

"It looks like they've made a miraculous recovery," he uttered, referring to the lie about them being ill.

"Be glad they have!" Daine returned, as the couple walked towards them.

Jonathan nodded heartily at Numair as he drew near. "Thank you," he said. He then looked at him strangely. "Your hair…"

Numair shook his head. "A long story," he quietly spoke, sending the king a warning glare not to ask any further questions.

They followed Thayet and Jon into the hall, clapping beginning when the king and queen were noticed. Jonathan bowed at his subjects, appearing very assured in front of the room full of people.

"I apologise for not being here earlier, but my wife and I," he smiled at Thayet, his blue eyes radiating warmth towards her. "Were not feeling too well. However, the malady appears to have been temporary, and we are both well enough to join with the rest of the evening."

Another round of applause erupted as the couple immediately went to the dance floor. Daine saw Jonathan whisper something into Thayet's ear and the queen smile adoringly at him. Obviously, the words that Numair had had with the king had helped. She looked up at her mage proudly. Numair caught her stare and smiled shyly at her, moving her in closer to him. He felt a tug at his sleeve and looked to see Kally stood there.

"Thank you," she whispered discreetly. Numair looked at little blank at what she was referring to. "For helping Mamma and Da," she explained. "I saw you speak to Da before and then they both went missing." She looked towards the dance floor. "It seems they'll be alright now."

Numair smiled at her. "They were always going to be fine, Kalasin, they just needed a nudge."

Kally nodded. "Maybe. Thank you for giving them that nudge." And with that she left them to find her friends and join in the giggling at some of the squires.

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

It was late when they returned to their rooms, Numair carrying Daine along the last few corridors as she was complaining that her feet were hurting in the new shoes that she had worn. He had laughed mercilessly at this, and began to explain the damage her shoes were doing to her phalanges and metatarsals. Daine retorted with a glare, her fingers grazing the back of his head to remind him of his loss.

"Do you still like me?" He asked, lying her down on the bed and removing her shoes.

"Why wouldn't I?" She asked sleepily.

"Now my hair's not long," he responded, mussing it up with his fingers.

She laughed at him pitilessly. "Numair, I will love you whatever your hair is like," she smiled, sitting up, grabbing her fingers around the locks that were still long on top and pulling him down on top of her, showing him exactly how much she liked him.

He looked down at her and smiled, the weak light from the moon lighting up his features and Daine felt her heart pound as she saw him, her fingers trailing down his long nose and over the growth of hair on his chin, down his chest and lower, and began a journey that would last again till dawn.

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

Three more festivals left - Midsummer, Lughnasadh and Mabon! Roughly 9 more chapters. I promise a very nice, fluffy Mabon, so keep reading, and if you read ---- REVIEW!