Daine sighed, pushing the door open to her and Alanna's cabin, and holding it aloft. She knew Numair would be right behind her. He hadn't left her side for more than a moment since she had awoken three days ago. According to Alanna, he hadn't left her side for the three days before that either, though she had been dead to the world, and couldn't honestly remember. Apparently, he had been "anxious," or at least that's how Lindhall had put it. Alanna had snorted and pointed out that in "normal humans," anxiety didn't cause one to emanate such a strong aura of magic that everyone in a ten-mile radius felt anxious along with you. Princess Fazia had insisted that they move him and Daine as far away from her household as possible.
Numair had reluctantly allowed Alanna to drag him off when Kaddar had asked for a word, but he had returned so immediately after the end of their conversation that Daine was certain he had been eavesdropping. He had then refused to step more than five feet away from her side. She had roamed the entirety of the ship's deck with a six foot four-inch shadow. The ship's rat catcher had refused to come out and say hello, convinced that Numair would accidentally step on her, being so close to Daine. Finally, she had decided to go down to her cabin. Numair didn't fit well in here, but that didn't seem to faze him, and he ambled after her. She sighed again and made her way to the tiny bunk on the far side of the room.
"I 'm not really all that tired," She said. "But I have a feeling we aren't going to get much rest when we get home." She sat on her bunk, bending to unlace her boots. Numair stepped closer to her, around the large pole that separated her bunk from the Lioness'. Apparently, he couldn't even let an inanimate object get between them. "You better not get too comfortable; Alanna isn't going to want to give up her bunk." She stared up at him from her perch on the edge of the cot.
A small smile played at the corner of his mouth, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. She frowned. He leaned his left shoulder against the post, and slowly slid down the beam so that he was sitting on the floor of the cabin, his long legs stretched parallel to her bunk, and his back against the wood. She was amused to note his feet stuck out past the end. "How do you fit in your bunk?" She asked, surprised.
"I don't. It makes it very difficult to sleep" Numair laughed, but his eyes quickly clouded again. "You slept for such a long-time magelet..." He looked down at his lap, clasping and unclasping his hands. "I know the hag said you would...but I didn't know if you were going to wake up."
Daine stopped unlacing her right boot, and looked up at him. His eyes were level with hers. She could see the anguish there, and was surprised at how much it hurt her. Memories shw would rather forget flashed before her eyes. Kaddar telling her about his execution...the feeling of seeing him alive in the menagerie. She reached down and stilled Numair's hands, interlacing his fingers with hers. He dropped his gaze.
"I'm so sorry magelet," he swallowed, and she could tell he was having a hard time getting the words out. "I should have told you about the simulacrum...I just... I never should have put you through that." He let go of her hand, grasped her ankle, then slowly began unlacing her boot. His whisper was barely audible. "I know what Ozorne did to people in those dungeons..."
"Things happen Numair." She cut him off. "Things happen that we never want, that we try to prevent, that we just don't expect. It can't be helped." His fingers stilled on the laces, and he clutched at her heel, pulling the boot off with a thud. He stared down at it, his hand still cradling her heel. "The person who commits an action is the one responsible for it, not the people he commits the action upon." She repeated his words back at him. For a moment she remembered what it had felt like to be that young girl, a child who the world had already robbed of naivete, trying desperately to protect the innocence of an even younger one. It felt so long ago now. A different lifetime. She supposed in a way it was.
"I don't deserve you Sweet." He squeezed the back of her heel, and bit his bottom lip. She knew this was a habit of his when he was trying to control his emotions. She felt the small spark of his magic tingling where his skin touched her own.
"Do you know what I remember most about when I first came to Tortall?" She tilted her head down, forcing him to meet her gaze, wanting him to really hear what she needed to say. He set her foot down, but didn't release it. "When I crossed the border from Galla I remember feeling so small and unimportant." She bit her own lip now, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I had never seen so many people as what were in Corus. There were fair important people too...Alanna, Thayet, the king." She dragged the toes of her left boot back and forth across the roughhewn floorboards. "I remember realizing just how big the world was, and how incredibly small and insignificant I was." He squeezed her ankle, and she felt him tremble slightly. "I felt like nobody at all, like no one would ever see me...like I didn't matter." He reached out a brushed a curl back from her face, cupping her cheek.
"Oh, sweetling..."
"But you made me feel like someone Numair..." his thumb brushed away the tear that escaped, and then idly continued to stroke her cheek. "I thought at first you would forget about me...with all the people coming and going. I didn't want to trust you." She swallowed hard. "But you just kept...caring." She swiped at her right eye as another tear escaped, but Numair intercepted her hand, tucking it into his. He gently brushed her cheek with their combined hands. "I know I'm someone to you. I know I matter," she hiccupped. "And when Ozorne took me..." She halted. "When Kaddar said you..." she gulped. "You were gone," she whispered. "I just felt like nothing mattered anymore. Not me. Not life. Nothing." She looked down at her feet, one booted, one not. "Thats why I did what I did...and I'd do it again." She stuck her chin out defiantly, but she could feel her lip begin to quiver.
Numair opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his lips.
The door hinges creaked loudly, the boat swaying, and then a red head all but fell though the doorway as the heavy wood crashed open. Alana stumbled into the cabin. She grunted, which did nothing for the green tinge to her overall complexion. "I'm not giving up my bunk Salmalin." She lurched toward her bunk, and sat down hard, wiping her sleeve against her mouth. "You better get over this before we get back to Tortall. I highly doubt Sarge is going to allow you to sleep outside her door in the barracks." She rolled her purple eyes, bending to unlace her boots.
Numair scowled, reaching past Daine to pluck a book off the end of her bunk. He didn't let go of her hand. Leaning back against the post, he stared down at the text, lazily caressing her palm with his thumb.
"I don't care what Sarge says," he muttered. "I know what matters..."