Title: Of Healing and Love—Chapter 7

Author: I Dream of Peace

Category: drama, missing scene, pre-romance (pairing Numair/Daine)

Rating: PG-13 for lots of ouch-ies

Spoilers: All the Immortals books, though of course you wouldn't be reading this without those, would you?

Archive: Feel free to take it, but please let me know if you do.

Feedback: Only reason I'm finishing this bad boy

Series: stand-alone

Author's Notes: Wow, look at me, what with the timely update and all. I'm trying to make up for my wicked ways (:grins:). I promise the action will pick up soon. Again, the quote that started it all can be found on p. 92-3 of Emperor Mage.

Chapter 7—Of an Idea and a Risk

Numair jerked awake to find Onua standing beside him with her hand on his shoulder and a worried expression on her brow. Perhaps a few hours had passed, and Daine didn't seem to have either improved or deteriorated markedly. Numair had fallen asleep in the chair by Daine's bedside; he winced slightly as he rolled his neck, feeling tense muscles protest.

"Numair, you've got to come quickly!" He blinked at her in confusion.

"What's going on?" he asked wearily. Onua tugged at him impatiently and continued talking while pulling him towards the door.

"Alanna's back."

All traces of sleep vanished from his mind instantly. The reasons for her sudden appearance, what might have happened to call her away from the battlefield, the possibility of her helping Daine, a thousand thoughts and more crowded in his head. As he tried to phrase a question, all he could manage was a few garbled words.

"What…How did…Why…?" he spluttered, trailing off as he hurried down the corridors, forcing Onua to trot in order to keep up with him.

Onua just shook her head and explained, "The Scanrans attacked one of our sea fortresses, and we damn near lost it. The Lioness managed to hold it, but there weren't enough left after the first attack. Someone needed to get new supplies and reinforcements, and Alanna was the only mage. She teleported here and nearly killed herself in the attempt," Numair nodded in comprehension. Alanna was much more in tune with living magic: she could heal extraordinarily well, but her grasp of more theoretical spells, such as the one used for teleportation, was weaker.

Onua continued, "I haven't seen Jonathon so mad since…Well, anyway, he's already gathered more troops, but…" Here Onua hesitated before plunging on, "Without a mage, a powerful one, to transport them and help defend the fort, the soldiers won't get there quickly enough to make a difference."

It took a moment for Numair to comprehend the implications of Onua's words. Once he grasped what she meant, Numair stopped dead.

"No," he said calmly, already shaking his head. "Jonathon cannot expect…. He wouldn't be so callus…" Onua gave Numair a sympathetic glance, but she continued hurrying him along anyway.

Soon they had reached one of the inner courtyards (very near to where Numair himself had brought Daine when he had teleported them in just a little while ago) to find Alanna, pale as a wraith and seated on a stone bench with her head against the wall, a thin gleam of perspiration standing out on her forehead, and Jonathon, his hand wrapped around her wrist, a thin trail of his Gift seeping into her in erratic bursts and trickles. Tortall's king had never been any good at healing, worse even than Numair.

Meanwhile, scribes, captains of the guard, army officers, and other attendants scurried around nervously. Technically, it was illegal for the King to heal any one person when the country was at war, in order to save his power for the defense of the country as a whole, which was a rule Jonathon usually took pains to observe. However, Alanna was the exception to this rule, it seemed, just as she was the exception to so many others.

It was Alanna herself that first noticed Numair's entrance. She met his gaze steadily, and Numair knew that Alanna understood the situation. Jonathon stood slowly, cutting off the flow of power between him and the Lioness. Neither Jonathon nor Alanna said anything to Numair as he slowed and then halted in front of them. Nonplussed, Numair opened his mouth and then closed it a few times, whatever arguments he had planned fading in light of the obvious strain on everyone's faces. Once the reality of the situation sank in, Numair sighed heavily.

"Will you at least look at her?" he asked softly. "See if there's something more you think the Healers could do?"

"Of course," Alanna replied, not unkindly. "I care for Daine as well." Numair nodded his thanks. Jonathon relaxed slightly, as though he had been bracing himself for resistance.

"Numair," he said gravely, "you know if there was any way I could change this…"

"I know," Numair admitted. "Tortall must come first. Daine would tell me that herself."

Alanna stood up, still a little pale; Jonathon took her arm.

"Let's go to her now," she said firmly. "I need to get back as quickly as possible."

They walked back to the Healers' wing and proceeded directly to Daine's bed. Alanna took Daine's hand, felt for the pulse point. Numair could feel a tiny piece of Alanna's power carried away with each contraction of Daine's heart. Numair saw Neal approach from the corner of his eye. The group stood silently for a moment, watching Alanna and Daine.

After a little while, Alanna released Daine and sighed wearily, rubbing her temple. Neal approached and pressed a goblet he had been holding into her hands.

"Bit of a pick-me-up," he explained, subdued. Alanna took a pull from the cup, made a face, and then downed the rest of it. Neal accepted the empty cup and then faded into the background.

"I don't think I need to tell you that she's fairly bad off," Alanna began, searching Numair's face as she spoke. "The infection has taken hold firmly; I'm not sure I could burn it out even if I were free to do so. And at this point, her immune system is so deeply entrenched in the fight that I don't think it would be safe to even try."

"Is there nothing to be done, then?" Onua queried, slightly worried by Numair's lack of response.

"If there were a Healer available, I would perhaps suggest feeding raw power to her immune system. But the Healer would have to be very talented to attempt it," Alanna cautioned, "because inexperienced Healers can burn themselves out in the process."

"I'll do it," Nealan said suddenly, surprising everyone.

"No," said Alanna firmly. "You're too young. You don't know your own boundaries well enough yet, and it could be disastrous to overextend yourself at your age."

"What if the power came from an outside source?" Numair broke his silence. He looked up to see the incredulous gazes of all those assembled.

"You can't seriously mean to let him try it," Onua protested. "Numair, he's still a boy!"

"If what I am proposing is possible, he will not be in any danger," Numair assured her. Alanna opened her mouth, his disapproval clear on her face, but Jonathon cut in quickly.

"Let's hear Numair's plan before we decide," he said, placating the Lioness. "What exactly are we talking about?" Jon asked Numair.

"I can't Heal because I can't easily channel my power into others or draw forth power from them. Otherwise I would be glad to attempt this myself. But I do have plenty of raw power." Numair paused, and Jon nodded encouragingly.

"Young Neal here will be a very talented Healer one day precisely because he can easily channel to and from another, but it would be dangerous for him to use his power for this task." Numair took a deep breath, then plunged forward, "I'm proposing that Neal channel my power into Daine, acting only as the medium, thus using no more of his own power than he would normally do to maintain a connection between himself and a patient."

Jonathon was silent for a moment. No body else seemed to want to speak until it was clear where Jon stood on the matter. Finally, he nodded slowly.

"I think it would work," he decided. "Alanna, you won't be able to leave until the troops are assembled, so you should be able to stay long enough to supervise the link's formation." Turning to Numair, "If there's a problem, sever the link quickly. We'll be no worse off than we are now."Jon met Alanna's eyes. "I'll be honest: we need Daine up north. If there's some way we can speed that along…"

"I believe," Alanna said, a slight edge to her voice, "that you are forgetting something. Is Neal even willing to take the risk?"

"I am, Lioness," Neal leapt to assure her but came out sounding overeager. Alanna snorted.

"I won't pretend I like this," Alanna said. "I didn't want to mention it, but, Numair, even if we do all we can, she may still lose the arm."

"What…?" gasped Numair, stumbling back a step.

"Even without the infection, the wound is rather severe. The blood flow was somewhat compromised before the wound was dressed. I may have detected some early signs of necrosis in the flesh. A raging immune system isn't helping any." Alanna gave Numair a long look. "Once we save her life we can worry about the limb. But I'm not sure how much function she'll have in it." Numair sat down, hard, looking rather shocky. Alanna sighed.

"I don't really know, Numair. She's young, and that's in her favor. I can't predict how her magic might shape things either. I just can't say for sure. But I thought you deserved to know." Numair nodded. Alanna watched him for a minute.

"Nealan," Jonathon finally broke the silence, "if you are willing, I think we had better give this a shot."

"I am, sir," Neal responded, remarkably firmly. Jon nodded his thanks.

"Alanna, can you be ready in fifteen minutes? And you, Numair? Neal?" All agreed but Numair, who still sat, staring into the distance.

"Alright," Jon said. "Good luck. Goddess bless." He squeezed Numair's shoulder, exchanged glances with the Lioness, and waved to Onua before sweeping out of the room. Alanna rolled her eyes and directed Neal out of the room, already speaking to him of the theory behind the procedure. Onua was left with Numair.

"Don't," he said, as she opened her mouth. "I'll be ready when the others are. Leave me." Onua hesitated a moment but eventually complied.

As she moved toward the door, Onua saw Numair lean forward and tenderly take Daine's hand. She saw Numair gently tucking a wayward strand of hair behind his student's ear, and gazing attentively into her face. Then Onua shut the door, for the moment seemed too private for others to witness.