These people. They just got under his skin. He just liked them. Jack's humor had returned after his conversation with Daine. Mentioning poor Myfanwy had somehow eased him, just a little. He felt himself able to smile, willing to laugh. Willing to cook, for god's sake. Since when did he want to cook? He hadn't even cooked at Torchwood.
Dinner was rather clumsy on his part, as he didn't know where they kept anything, and he'd had to go downstairs and actually pluck some vegetables, but it was worth it in the end. He made them a close approximation to pizza with some of their leftover bread dough, claiming that he had lived off this kind of thing for years, which was true. It was a surprisingly big hit, even if it turned out to be little more than slightly overcooked bread with chunks of tomatoes and cheese on top, and as they sat under the stars, Daine curled up against Numair and demanded a story.
Jack looked up and, with a bit of squinting and approximating, found a star he thought might've been Scharta, and spun them a yarn he'd heard in the training barracks in the Time Agency, long ago. In return, Numair pointed out constellation after constellation, telling tales about gods and goddesses.
Jack did a few calculations in his head and managed to find Orion's Belt, although from this angle it formed a tiny cluster in the east. In all honesty, only one of the stars was from the Belt, as visible on Earth. The other two were from the arrow and the left foot, respectively, but it was still pretty lucky that he could find three of them. He told the story about Orion and the Scorpion, and the nebula that birthed baby stars, spinning that like a myth.
Jack had not felt this peaceful in a very, very long time. It was a mistake and he knew it; getting close to people was fatal. Even so, it was by far the most enjoyable night he'd spent since he'd left Earth.
.
.
The next day, Daine ushered Numair and Jack out of the house in order to get his coat, and stood over Jack's shoulder as he tacked Red.
"I do actually know how to put a saddle on a horse," Jack complained with a good natured smile as he picked up Red's bridle and placed it against the gelding's lips. Red sighed gustily and took the bit.
"Yes, but apparently not a bridle," Daine said wryly, tapping Jack's arm. "You don't need to stick your finger in his mouth; Red's a good boy, he'll take the bit."
"Oh." Jack looked sheepish. He patted the horse's neck. "Sorry."
He does not know what he is doing, Red agreed, more amused than annoyed. Tell him that his finger tastes bad, and that I shall bite him if he does it again.
You won't really bite him, Daine told the horse wryly, grinning.
No. But it is good if he thinks so. Red regarded her with a twinkling brown eye.
Daine laughed. "He says he'll bite you if you stick your finger in his mouth again, because it tastes bad," she told Jack. He smiled.
"Tell him if he bites me, I'll have him whipped," Jack joked, lifting a saddle from the rack.
Daine dutifully translated, making sure to add that Jack was teasing. In reply, Red leaned over and very gently bit Jack's sleeve. Saddle slung on his arm, Jack reached up and yanked playfully on the horse's mane.
"Mithros, you're both like little kids!" Daine grinned. She helped Jack with the saddle, and then got onto her own mount.
He is a bad influence, Cloud commented as Daine hopped nimbly onto the pony's back, without a saddle of her own.
You like him, Daine accused as she took the reins.
Cloud snorted but did not reply.
They rode out in good spirits, although it was clear that Jack did not quite remember how to ride a horse. Last time, Red had been excited to be free of the bandits and had not been bothered by Jack's poor seat, and Daine had been more concerned with the horse's health than anything else. Now, Red complained with good humor to Daine about Jack's seat and posture, and Daine called out to him, trotting round and round them on Cloud.
Numair smiled wryly. "She'll be correcting you the whole way there," he warned.
"Will she, now?" Jack seemed to remember more than he let on, because his right foot slid back and urged Red to canter from a walk. Red, despite his complaining, was up for the run and leaped forward with a delighted snort. Numair groaned and Daine laughed as they raced until the horses tired, and then walked for the rest of the way.
Jack seemed just as impressed with the little town as he was before, beaming over the stalls and the mongers hawking their wares. Now that his horse was in good health, they rode to the tailor.
He looked profoundly relieved when Mistress Carra bustled out, holding his coat. Daine was impressed- it looked new, and the hole in the back had disappeared without a trace.
"It gave me some trouble, this did," the old woman fussed, tugging Jack onto her pedestal and then placing the coat onto his shoulders. "Oddest wool I've ever come across. Right then, Captain Harkness, this here's got a fire retardant and protection against damage, as well as an anti-theft. The amount of magic I poured into it, it should last damn near a hundred years. It's your grandchildren's problem, now."
For a moment, Jack's shoulders tensed visibly. Daine and Numair exchanged a puzzled glance, but by the time they looked back at him, he stood as though at perfect ease.
"Thank you, Mistress Carra, you're a doll," Jack replied. He rolled his shoulders beneath the coat, testing the fabric.
"I'm a what?"
"A darling, a marvelous woman," Jack smiled charmingly at her, and she patted his cheek. The smile, Daine noticed, did not reach his eyes, although Mistress Carra seemed delighted.
"Such a nice boy! No idea where you found this one," she shot to Daine and Numair. Daine held back a snicker and glanced, amused, at Numair, who glared. Mistress Carra was notorious for being unpleasant to her customers. How Jack had charmed her was completely beyond Daine. "Mithros knows, so few nice boys these days." She smoothed the coat over Jack's shoulders.
Jack reacted suddenly and violently. The motion made him cringe, and he practically fell over himself trying to get away. Daine started, making an alarmed sound when Jack threatened to trip, although he caught himself. Mistress Carra frowned, hand still outstretched to the place where Jack had been.
Jack laughed nervously from the other side of the pedestal. "Sorry," he said, looking embarrassed. "My old dead ma used to do that."
Mistress Carra forgave him instantly, crooning over him like a lost child, but Daine and Numair shared another glance. That lie was a good one, but they both saw it. Someone had touched him like that once, but it was not his old dead ma.
"We ought to get going, Jack," Numair put in after a moment. Mistress Carra scowled from where she'd been cooing over Jack. "You used up all the tomatoes last night. We need to get more."
"That raven should be coming back from Corus today as well," Daine added, gesturing to the door.
"Alright," the Jack said. He winked flirtatiously at Mistress Carra as he walked around the pedestal. "I'll be seeing you," he added, and the old woman giggled.
"Oh, hold on, Captain Harkness," she fluttered, rushing to the back. "I have something for you!"
Daine and Numair raised their eyebrows at Jack, who shrugged. The three of them stood a little awkwardly at the door. Mistress Carra's voice floated from the back room.
"You said you didn't need any more clothing, but you gave me enough to pay my rent for nearly four years!" She dashed back to the front, carrying a bundle. "Here. Some tunics and breeches. You can't walk around in your odd clothes all the time, although," she giggled like a little girl, "you do look quite dashing. Here." She thrust the bundle into Jack's confused arms.
"Thanks?" Jack said, perplexed.
"Now off you go! If you ever need any repairs, do come back!" She waved him away. With a final glare at Numair, she bustled to the back of her shop.
"Well," Daine said as they left and began to untie their horses. "That was fair strange. I've never seen her so happy."
Numair looked amused. "She's hated me for as long as I can remember," he added. He tugged at the slipknot that bound Spots to the post, but the knot did not come undone. He frowned, put out. He'd tied the knot incorrectly, of course, Daine thought with a small grin. She moved to help but he waved her off.
"Well," Jack was saying as he juggled the bundle in his arms with Red's reins. "I suppose I will blend in better this way. But they these clothes don't go with the coat at all."
"The coat! Right," Numair murmured, almost to himself. He'd finally gotten the knot undone, but before he mounted he looked back at Jack. "Would you like me to strengthen those spells for you?"
Already sitting astride Red, Jack's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Yes, please!" he replied. "Especially the damage-proofing one, if you could."
"You want it to last more than a hundred years?" Daine joked. Mistress Carra had always had a gift for overstatement. Jack's response surprised her, though, because it was utterly sincere.
"Yes. Yes, please, as long as you can make it last," he said earnestly. "I—I want this coat to outlive me," he added, tone oddly wistful.
"That'll take a bit of power," Numair hummed. He eyed Jack's coat, slung carefully over the man's arm. "I'll do it when we return to the tower, alright? I can key it to you, if you want – so it'll decay when you die."
Jack paled. "Better not," he muttered darkly.
"He's right," Daine told Numair firmly. "That's a big spell, Numair. You'll drain yourself." Jack nodded a little to himself, as though expecting this reasoning.
"We'll see when we get back," Numair shrugged. Daine frowned at him unhappily. If Numair thought it was some sort of ridiculous challenge—
What is wrong? Red asked as they rode the horses back to the market.
The stork-man is being stupid, what do you think? Cloud scoffed back.
He wants to put his magic into Jack's coat, to make it last all of Jack's life, Daine explained. I'm worried that he'll exhaust himself.
He won't just exhaust himself, Cloud said darkly. He'll kill himself. Jack is immortal.
What? Daine pulled Cloud to a halt and stared down at her pony. "That's impossible," she said aloud. Numair and Jack stopped.
"Sweets?" Numair asked. Jack looked back at her, one eyebrow raised in a question.
"Cloud's being impossible, that's all," Daine told them, nudging Cloud to walk. The pony snorted.
I am not, she insisted. Daine. He came back to life. I could smell it.
Death surrounds him, Red put in uncomfortably. He chewed on his bit and watched Daine with big, sad brown eyes. The stork-man should not risk it.
"What are you arguing about?" Jack asked from his back.
"Nothing," Daine said quickly. You've made him suspicious, she scolded, and Red hung his head.
Tell him I'm sorry, the big gray horse sighed. Jack should not be sadder than he already is.
"Red says you shouldn't be sad," Daine told Jack dryly. "I don't know what that means, but that's what he says."
Jack looked startled. He blinked down at the large gray horse, who turned his head back to look at him out of one eye. "Thank him for his concern, but I'm fine." He patted the gelding's neck.
He's lying, Red murmured, sighing at the touch.
He always lies, Spots put in.
Daine shrugged at Jack, who looked curious, although Daine did not answer the question on his face. He did not need to know what the horses were saying, not yet, anyway.
This will end badly, Cloud told Daine darkly. I just know it will.
.
.
They returned to Numair's tower to find a goshawk sitting on the roof. It glided down and landed on Daine's outstretched arm, thrusting its leg forward. Numair smiled a little wryly.
"I guess the king got our message," he commented as Daine untied the missive.
"He says," she murmured as she skimmed the letter, "That he apologizes—of course—and that he would like us to go and investigate. It isn't like Ouna to be so afraid, and Thayet trusts her judgment. He also says that we're observing only, and he would prefer if we didn't interfere in any way with Gallan politics." Her voice had turned sarcastic.
"No destroying palaces," Jack joked. Numair chuckled a little and gently pulled on a lock of Daine's hair, curling it around his finger. Daine swatted at him playfully, and continued to read.
"He's also interested in you, Jack," she added, capturing Numair's hand in her own and keeping it. "He wants us to bring 'our experienced friend' back up to Corus as soon as we've found one of those weevil creatures. He probably wants us to give him a briefing," she continued, and made a face. Numair laughed outright and rubbed her hand with his thumb.
"In front of all the stuffy nobles?" he teased. He grinned at the look of horror on Daine's face.
"Probably," she scowled and handed him the letter. Numair skimmed it, not releasing Daine's hand.
"I'm not thrilled with the idea, myself," Jack said, shifting his weight. Numair glanced up at him. "I would rather not get involved with your government, if it's all the same to you." His voice had turned dark. Numair wondered at his skittishness.
"You have nothing to worry about," Numair reassured him. "Jon's completely unorthodox. Daine and I will speak for you, and you can leave whenever you wish."
"I've—had a few bad experiences with governments," Jack told them firmly.
"Listen," Numair soothed, "Pirate's Swoop is a short detour, but it's on the way to the border. We'll stop there to get more supplies, and you can meet George, if he's home. He'll vouch for His Majesty."
"This is the thief," Jack murmured. Numair nodded. "You want me to trust a liar?"
"George is very trustworthy, and if Cloud is to be believed, you're a liar yourself," Daine said frankly. Numair looked at her, startled at her forthrightness and afraid that she might scare Jack off. The other man merely blinked at her, surprised, and then let out a gusty sigh.
"I suppose she has a point, at that," he said ruefully.
"Nothing bad will happen," Daine soothed. "I trust the king with my life."
"Well, you would," Jack told her dryly, and Numair inclined his head.
"This is true. Anyway, we'll set out tomorrow." His stomach rumbled. "It's still Daine's turn to cook," Numair added, and Jack broke the tension with a chuckle.