Numair placed his head in his hands, and sighed. He was exhausted. He needed sleep, but he didn't think it would come. Not only was he unable to sort his disordered thoughts into organized meditation, but this inn only had one room...and one bed.
It was difficult enough getting any sleep across a campfire from Daine...but to be in the same bed. He didn't know how he was supposed to get any rest.
He slowly lowered himself onto the far side of the small bed, making sure that no part of their bodies touched. He closed his eyes, trying again to meditate, and focus on anything but the warmth radiating off of the woman lying next to him.
He couldn't get his mind to empty. It refused to relinquish the obsessive thought that had occupied it since the fall of the barrier.
Numair had always loved Daine. He knew that. He remembered recognizing it was love when she had stopped her heart to try and hear dolphins. For the full minute and a half it had taken Alanna to restart her heart, his own heart had felt like it no longer had a reason to keep beating. He couldn't figure out when he had fallen in love with her though.
He had already been in love with her in Carthak. That was obvious now. He couldn't believe he hadn't considered it, that he hadn't recognized it for what it was, then. He had been so incredibly jealous of Kaddar, and he had all but ignored Varice's blatant and obvious advances. When Ozorne had taken her he had almost gone mad with panic. The mere memory of it made his heart rate increase and his throat tighten, despite her sleeping form lying clearly safe before him.
It had been before Carthak though, he was sure of that...and ashamed to realize that it was probably as far back as Dunlath. He hadn't taken a lover since they had come back from that valley. He had no longer had any desire to. Daine was his pack...he didn't need anyone else. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he hadn't wanted her in the way a man desires a woman back then. Yet, he knew that he had fallen in love with her mind, her spirit, and her personality. He realized now that he had subconsciously known then that no one else would ever be able to compare. The solace in this thought was short lived. No, he had not wanted her the way a man wants a woman...but he had wanted her. He had wanted her to himself almost since the moment he had met her. He had wanted to be her best friend, her confidant, her person...and he had been horribly possessive.
He shivered as the embers in the small hearth began to die out, but didn't dare to shift underneath the blankets, for fear of waking Daine. She had collapsed, exhausted and fully clothed, on top of the blankets...completely unaware that the mage would spend the next two candle marks debating sleeping on the stone floor. He wondered if she was cold? Should he get up and restart the fire?
Numair didn't have the chance to act on this thought. He felt a familiar arm wrap across his chest, and her small cold hand slide into the V of his tunic, palm resting against his heart. His eyes flew open, and he stiffened, waiting for the panic to come. Eventually, he became aware that Daine was still asleep, her body simply unconsciously seeking his for warmth in the cold.
And suddenly...just like that, his mind quieted, nothing in the world seemed to matter, and Numair could breath. He wrapped his arm around her slim body and pulled her towards him, tucking her head into his shoulder. The feel of her breathing, like a metronome, slowly lulling him to sleep.
