A/N: Just a little scene that came to me late last night. One-shot. Hope you enjoy and, as always, I welcome any constructive criticism.
Fyre Thief.
Disclaimer: As you all know, I do not own any of this- Tamora Pierce does
Love At First Sight.
Numair had never been wonderfully good with very small children. Yes, he had plenty of worldly patience, but he was a man that truly appreciated his peace and quiet. Unfortunately, children tended to think otherwise and this had led to the great, kind mage having no real fondness for them.
But, as the scholarly Numair knew, there were always exceptions to every rule. Just like Wyldon, the strict ex-training master was, to all appearances, a knight steeped in the rigidity of propriety; beneath palace impressions there was a battle-worn man who cared greatly for his dogs and horses.
Not only were there mere exceptions- situations and people could completely change. With a soft, teasing smile, Numair remembered receiving the news that Raoul, the confirmed bachelor of Tortall (nearly as famous for his marital status as for his acts of bravery) was engaged to the idyllic love of his life.
Yes, Numair did not like screaming, messy children that interrupted his train of thought when he was intent on deciphering the meaning of a particularly complex and intriguing scroll, but things could change.
At least, he thought, if children were brought up and handled correctly, by the time they were nearly ten years old they weren't so hard to deal with. The Black Robe mage remembered with his characteristic fondness how once, Alanna's eldest had tried to quietly comfort Numair with his very own, very special bear.
As Numair held his little girl for the very first time, none of this passed through his mind. His mind was as blank as it had ever been, as he stared in awe at the tiny slice of perfection dwarfed by his hands. This surpassed any magical "toy" he had come across, any ancient learning. This little baby was the most magical, wonderful thing Numair had ever come across and he was in shock that such magic could come of his own making.
Barely daring to breathe least he upset her in her precious fragility, he studied every aspect of her. His eyes passed from the sparse threads of dark hair on her pink skull, to her tiny, chubby fingers curled loosely against her palms. Her miniature features, particularly her eyes- now shut tight as she dosed- fascinated him.
'Numair…?'
Gently, so gently, Numair turned from the window to the weary voice. Daine, clean, dry and warm now, was seated in white at the other end of the room. She looked as tired as if she'd fought a score of wyverns single handed, but it didn't even register with him. As he looked at his beautiful, amazing wife, his face was as blank as his mind.
Daine smiled softly. 'How is she?'
'She's…' Numair looked back down at the bundle in his arms, his breath hitching. 'Magic.'
As if knowing she was being talked of, the little baby opened her eyes at that precise moment, staring blurrily up at her father with all the delicacy she could muster. Numair's breath caught in his throat, and he knew he had fallen hopelessly, irreversibly in love for the second time in his life.
He might normally dislike the very young, but this would be the exception to the rule. This little girl would have everything her Papa could get her.
Fin.