Yup, a new chapter up really quick. After a couple of comments saying that not much happened, I thought you needed an update really quick...plus lectures are really boring. lol Anyway, here you go.

Disclaimed: The world belongs to Anne Bishopp. Everything belongs to her, except the plot, and the characters of Satine and the random friend.

It was another week before anyone approached Orian or Daemonar. The first was Satine, the elder of Daemon and Jaenelle's twin daughters. She was still a few years younger than Orian, but had developed a taste for male company that must have horrified her family.

She flounced into the library where Orian was reading, and promptly dropped into a chair next to the young Queen. "What's up, darling?" she asked, causing Orian to look up as her silence was disturbed.

She turned the book over her knew and smiled at the teenaged Black Widow Healer. "Wonderful," she nodded, keeping still in her chair, even though she knew her reply wasn't true. "The Court is keeping me busy, and so are the people of Askavi, but I'm coping." She stopped as she spied the look on Satine's face.

"Are you sure about that?" Satine asked. "Is it really just being busy that makes it look like you're having sleepless nights, and making you hide out in your library?"

Orian's eyes narrowed at the younger girl. "I don't believe you should be criticising your Queen, Lady," she said, looking displeased. Unfortunately, it only caused her tiredness to show more.

Satine straightened in her chair. "I'm not criticising you, Lady," she answered, deciding to fall back on Protocol. "I was merely pointing something out." She paused. "Why haven't you spoken to your Court about whatever it is that's bothering you? They want to help you. And why not Daemonar?"

Her smile curved up slightly as Orian snarled softly and wiggled in her chair. She'd assumed Daemonar was the problem, as had the rest of the Court.

A Red aural shield snapped up around them. "Darling, you can't keep avoiding him like this. All it's doing is hurting you, and I can tell it's hurting him. He's your Consort, and he's a male who serves in your Court. As his Queen, if you can see he's upset or having problems, it's up to you to help him."

"I'm the Queen here. Why are you telling me what a Queen should do?" Orian grumbled.

"Dear, you've forgotten my sister is a Queen. She tends to inform me of information of that sort regularly," Satine smiled. Looking over Orian's still grumpy expression, Satine sighed. "Look," she said seriously, deciding she had to give the Queen a suggestion, "just help him, give him a hand, even if it's for no other reason than he's a member of your Court." When Orian began to look reluctant, Satine rolled her eyes. "What would you do if Alanar went around for weeks looking like something was nibbling at his balls?"

Orian's lips began to twitch, liking the image of her brother that was brought to her mind, but not wanting to show her amusement. But she understood the message Satine was trying to give, and she sighed. "I'll think about it," she said finally.

"Then think quickly," Satine told her as she stood up. "I don't know how much more he can take." With that, the aural shield dropped and Satine disappeared from the room.

Orian slumped back in her chair and groaned. While she knew she had a duty to the males of her Court, she couldn't see how she could help Daemonar. It would be too difficult to try and talk things over with him when the temptation to kiss him and run her hands over him was so great it was potentially overpowering. It just wouldn't work out.

As if she had been reading Orian's mind, Satine piped up on a Red distaff thread, Oh, I forgot. If you have to kiss him, it's all to the good.

Orian snarled and thumped her book on the table. Meddlesome Black Widow Healer. Thought she knew everything. She was not going to kiss Daemonar just to solve his current problems. It would just cause more anyway.

Eventually she vanished to book and stood up. She was going flying. It would help her to calm down, surely, and it might give her some idea of what to do. Even if Daemonar was going around like one of the kindred wolves were nibbling his balls.

"They probably deserve it anyway," she muttered as she went to her room to change into her flying clothes. His balls did, that was, not the wolves.

As she exited her room however, she ran into the last person she wanted to see at that moment. Daemonar has just finished getting a stern talking to from a good friend who was also a member of Orian's First Circle. He looked over Orian's attire and gave a dry smile. "Seems like we had a similar idea," he said grimly, not liking his body's reaction to Orian's firm-fitting leather suit. He was also disliking how his mind was responding to those reactions. No, it was not a good idea to tear that suit off right there and then. "Shall we fly together?" he asked.

The grin that grew from the smile made his offer impossible for Orian to refuse. She couldn't dash his hopes when he looked so desperate, yet so eager. She nodded, but gave little smile. There was no way she'd be able to think if the object of her thoughts was there distracting her.

The look of pure relief on his face scared her, so she looked away, down the corridor, wondering if they were going to walk together or if one was supposed to lead. She was about to take a step and walk on her own when she felt fingers brush her hand and quickly pull away. She stiffened and bit her lip. He obviously didn't want to touch her. Probably thought toughing a half-breed was below him.

She immediately began to walk down the corridor, giving a sigh when she heard the footsteps begin behind her. She'd been hoping he'd change his mind. She gave another long sigh, but cut it short as Daemonar caught up to her.

As they reached the gardens of the Keep, Daemonar stopped and looked at her, a slight grin on his face. "I've got a new trick I was to demonstrate. May I?" Orian nodded, not sure why he had to ask for permission. The next question cleared it up. "I need a partner. Will you assist?"

She hesitated, not sure if having such close contact was a good idea, especially if she wanted her feeling toward him a secret. But, she decided after a moment, what was the problem? It was only flying. She couldn't give much away simply by holding his hand. She nodded carefully.

"Don't forget to fly," he told her, pulling her to him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, the fronts of their bodies in full contact, then launched into the air.

Enjoy? Hope so. R&R please!