2.

A nauseous warning. When not puking, Alanna keeps it real.

.

If anyone, ever again, says something about the poetry of sea faring

He will most likely turn them into something

Seaworthy.

He misses solid ground beneath his feet,

Both literally

And metaphorically.

.

Alanna'a face is a study of color. Because her brews aren't getting any better, just having a cumulatively off-putting effect, it takes Numair a few moments to realize that she's trying to discuss something serious with him. He focuses back on her face.

"I think you need to be careful, Numair." She says. Her eyes are extra-violet, her skin has a greenish tint, and her hair clashes terribly. He blinks at her a couple of times.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Daine." She pauses expectantly as he frowns at her. "I'm telling you this because I know you don't mean any harm – you can just be pretty clueless sometimes, especially about things like this. This is something I wanted to talk to you about since the incident in Carthak." Numair's frown deepens, he feels the stirrings of annoyance.

"Gods, Alanna, not you too. Don't tell me you've found palace gossips even on this cursed ship, and decided to sidle up to them. I know you're feeling sick but –"

"Stop that." She interrupts him. Then she adds, stern, but gentle. "I'm not talking about gossips. And you know me better than that. I'm talking about Daine."

Something unpleasantly twists in his stomach. He has a feeling that he doesn't want to hear what she has to say, and that whatever it is he should probably know it already. Shame, or a feeling close to it, before it has a target for what to be ashamed of, creeps up. He grips the rail, because he is seasick, and may vomit. This is why they have been standing out here in the first place. Alanna continues.

"And now – I know she slept in your rooms the last two nights. No, I know that nothing like that is going on—" she stops him when he opens his mouth to interrupt, "And I know the two of you think you can live in some sort of bubble outside of caring about her reputation or yours – I understand that, too, I've been there. That's not what I'm talking about.

"Daine is growing up, Numair. She's not a child anymore. And the way you interact with her – I think you're starting to blur lines that maybe you shouldn't be."

He wouldn't stand this conversation, if it were coming from anyone else in the world but Alanna. Possibly, not even then, if he were not trapped at the edge of the boat by a continuously-churning stomach. He hates this conversation. He hates the implication that there is something corrupt about the beautiful bond he shares with his student and friend. He thinks their connection is pure, delicate and wonderful – and unlike one he has ever shared with anyone. The talk that sullies this bond is all more distasteful when it comes from his friends – when it's not a stupid gossip that he can brush off.

And maybe, he is terrified of uncovering what his real stance might be on their relationship. He does not want to think about it deeply because, for once, maybe he doesn't want to learn. But admitting even that at this point is out of his reach. His nausea reels. Alanna keeps talking.

"She spends all her time with you. And yes I know you're her teacher but you're also – older, and you're a legend, and she has such a deep love for you already. Do you understand what I'm saying? You're putting the two of you in a position where if you're not careful – she just won't have a choice but to develop certain feelings. And what are you going to do then? She is fifteen years old. And she's not just someone – she's our Daine. I know, Numair, I understand – what the two of you have is incredibly special. But I don't want something like this to ruin things between you. And I care for her very much, too. I feel it is my place to speak up for her."

She punctuates the last statement by bending over the edge of the boat and violently heaving. Numair pinches his nose and tries not to listen to her – he's sure if he does he'll turn inside out, too.

.

.

A/N: Of course someone would notice. Of course Alanna would speak up.

Standard disclaimers apply.