Somehow, it always seemed, the last few miles were the longest.

Numair shifted his position as best he could on the hard, lumpy saddle. Beneath him he felt his
mount twitch in annoyance, and not for the first time Numair wished he could understand the
horse's thoughts. Then again, perhaps he was better off not knowing just how much the horse
wished to liberate herself from the awkward weight of the mage's long, angular limbs.

Riding in the saddle for five long weeks has finally caught up to me, he mused. That, or knowing
that this gods-cursed journey will end soon is driving me mad. Horse and rider came around a
bend on the rutted mountain road, and Numair's eyes caught a first glimpse of the royal palace
far in the distance. Although, there are some who would say I'm mad already, and that long trips
like these only make me more so. Tightly drawing the reins inward and then down, he brought the
horse to a halt and allowed himself to gaze across the lowland before him. The late afternoon sun
glinted off the tiled roofs of Corus, smoke curling upward from scattered chimneys preparing an
early supper and a soft breeze rustling the treetops that were just starting to turn a golden orange.

Numair suddenly felt a sharp desire to waste an atrocious amount of his Gift and instantly
transport himself across the ten or so miles that remained between him and the palace. It was no
small magic, but he could definitely manage - his trials to earn that black robe all those years ago
had required a spell of equivalent magnitude. But the drawback, of course, was that it would take
him a day or so to recover, and the news he had to deliver simply could not wait.

The mage sighed. Over the past five weeks he had ridden to Tyra and back, serving as an
emissary to the Tyran court on a mission which was one of many which Jon had lately dispatched
to strengthen diplomatic ties between Tortall and its neighbors. Relations between Tortall and
Tyra were ostensibly at an all-time high, with greater cooperation established in commerce
between the two kingdoms and new treaties promising to share military resources against
common enemies. Numair had even been granted the luxury of meeting with the heads of the
Tyran royal university, sharing his magical expertise with a raptured audience and learning much
from Tyran mages in turn. All in all, it had been an eventful trip, with both personal and
professional acquaintances renewed and restored.

But five weeks was a very long time. Especially when it meant five weeks away from his life in
Tortall. Missing five weeks of class for the pages was one thing, but missing five weeks from
Daine...

Another reason not to waste his magic in order to return home sooner. Daine would be furious
with him for draining his Gift on top of his physical exhaustion from the long journey. Smiling to
himself, Numair kicked his mount and encouraged her to trot a little bit faster as she slowly made
her way down the mountain road to Corus.

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Somehow, it always seemed, the last few hours were the longest.

Daine shifted in her seat on the split-log fence of the training pasture, idly watching the newest
crop of Riders take their ponies through a series of basic battle maneuvers. The logic was that if a
Rider practiced these maneuvers in tandem with his or her horse often enough, then when a real
battle came both horse and rider would know exactly how to react. But as both Daine and the
horses knew, the greenest Riders were always the first to forget drills and instead rely on instinct
when facing an enemy - and, consequently, end up relying much more on their mounts than they
had anticipated.

"Again!" bellowed Sarge across the pasture, after a Rider tumbled to the ground trying to make a
sharp turn. The look he gave to Sarge as he re-mounted his horse was so murderous that Daine
stifled a grin.

Daine sighed and looked up at the sun to judge the time. Late afternoon already - he should have
been here by now. She had asked innumerable birds, squirrels and bats in between the palace and
the far mountain road to keep a lookout for the Storkman, as Numair was most commonly
known. In the years since the end of the Immortals War, the People had come to know Numair
almost as well as they did Daine. After all, as far as they were concerned, he was her mate, and
they held him in high regard despite his strange proportions.

She missed him terribly. These missions were a fact of life that they had come to accept in recent
years. As the two most powerful mages in all of Tortall, Daine and Numair were frequently
dispatched either individually or as part of a larger group to other cities or neighboring kingdoms
to help Jon and Thayet hold their country together. Usually Daine finagled her way into traveling
with Numair, or vice versa, but for this most recent trip the king had been adamant: Numair, and
Numair alone, was to go.

Her eyes followed a particularly stubborn pony as she remembered their parting. It was early -
Numair always liked getting an early start on a long journey - and she was in the stables, helping
buckle the last straps of his saddle into place and securing his bags on the horse's back. Maret
was a good horse, patient with her riders and not one to complain after a particularly long trek.
Daine had handpicked her for Numair's trip, knowing how awkward he usually felt around
horses.

As her hands looped the final buckle she heard footsteps on the damp straw lining the path
between the stalls. Looking up, Daine saw Numair enter Maret's stall, a satchel slung over his
shoulder and his face weary. Her eyes met his and she smiled quickly before turning back to her
work and finally pulling away, finished.

"Is she ready to go?" he asked quietly.

Daine nodded. "Saddle mounted, bags packed. All she needs is you."

Numair laughed quietly and she looked up, watching him slowly draw closer to her as he spoke.
"Magelet, the day that a horse needs me is the day that the Emerald Ocean goes dry." He reached
forward and rested his large palms on her shoulders, slowly drawing her in for a prolonged
embrace.

Face crushed against his cloak, Daine breathed in deeply. Spice. Suddenly she realized that this
familiar scent would be absent from her life for the next five weeks, and that realization made the
tears finally spring to her eyes. Roughly she threw her arms around him and buried her face in
his chest, desperate for him to not see her in such a state.

"Magelet?"

Sniffle. "I'm not crying, Numair." Sniffle.

He sighed deeply, one hand losing itself in her thick tangle of curls. He bent forward and inhaled
deeply the musky scent that always clung to her hair, catching a hint of the scented soap she
insisted he use during their bath the previous night. Suddenly overcome with the memory of a
smiling Daine covered in soapsuds, he drew his arms around her so tightly that he felt her gasp.

"Gods, I love you," he whispered into her hair.

"A pretty sentiment, master mage, but if you'd like me to survive 'til you return home you'll have
to loosen up a bit." She found the courage to lift her face to meet his and smiled up at him, lost in
his dark eyes and enjoying this one last feel of him pressed against her. "You wouldn't want to
come home and find that I've lost my capacity to breathe."

His eyes smoldered, matching the intensity found in her own. "Then perhaps you'd have an idea
of how I often feel around you, mistress mage, as your mere presence tends to leave me
completely breathless."

She rolled her eyes and gave Numair the grin he had been waiting for. "Mages. You're all just
Players at heart."

One big hand reached up to cup her cheek. "That's why the women can't help but love us so
much." He leaned down then and kissed her smiling mouth, lingering as her hand found its way
to his hair and held him close.

Numair broke away, just barely, and butted the end of his long nose against hers. "I will come
back to you," he whispered against her lips. "I will take care of myself, and I will come home as
soon as I can."

Daine leaned forward and kissed him quickly. "I know. I just miss being out on the road with
you."

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Then how about this: I will be owed some time off after my
return. How about we make a trip to the Tower after I get back?"

"Perfect!" Quick kiss. "I can get you all to myself then."
Numair grinned, and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "I suppose I can occupy my thoughts
until then with all the possible locations in and around the Tower where I can make love to you."

Daine blushed scarlet. She opened her mouth to issue a tart response, but Numair laid a long
finger against her lips to quiet her. With his other hand he reached under the neckline of her shirt
to pull out the three objects hanging around her neck: the badger's claw, her pregnancy charm
and a small silver band.

"Will you wear this until I return?" Already he had unclasped her necklace and slid the ring off
the leather thong.

"Just so everyone and his mother can see physical proof of our engagement? Of course I will,
you dolt." She held out her finger and Numair quickly slipped the ring over her knuckle before
bringing her hand up for a quick kiss, first to the palm and then to the ring itself.

"Daine, if anything happens-"

"Which it won't, Numair."

He shook his head. "If anything happens to me, Daine, I want you to know that you have made
me the happiest man in this or any realm."

At a momentary loss for words, Daine could think of nothing but to reach up for another kiss.

The sound of an impatient hoof stomping at the other side of the stall broke them apart, as Maret
had evidently decided that enough was enough and they had better get a move on.

Daine smiled. "Is she angry with me?" Numair asked.

She shook her head. "She says she understands. But she also says that your luggage isn't getting
any lighter..."

"Point taken." He stepped forward to take Maret's bridle in one hand and reached for Daine with
the other. Automatically their fingers twined together as they walked down the path in between
the stalls of sleeping horses and outside into the pale light of dawn.

Numair swallowed and turned to Daine once more. Without conscious thought he swept her up
into his arms and kissed her desperately. Daine returned his fervor with equal measure, tearing
her mouth away to gasp in air before returning to him.

At last they pulled apart. Daine pulled his ear down to her lips and whispered, "I love you so
much it hurts, Numair. Please be careful."

He leaned down for a quick kiss to her forehead before turning around and mounting Maret.
"You will write?"
She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. "Was Ozorne a stormwing?"

It was that vision of shared laughter which sent him off, trotting through the palace grounds
toward the gate until she could see him no more.

Daine was jolted back to reality when she realized that a hawk had landed on the fence beside
her, taken hold of the knee of her breeches and pulled sharply. What is it?

The storkman just entered through the palace gates, the bird informed her. With the way you've
been mooning over him, all the People have been on the lookout. Perhaps you may want to greet
him?

Daine sprang off the fence, and the hawk barely had enough time to get out of her way. "I think
that would be a wonderful idea, wing-sister!" she exclaimed out loud before racing off in the
direction of the stables. The hawk launched herself airborne and quickly found an easy dusk
breeze to return her to her nest. Two-leggers. Always getting so silly over their mates.

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Numair had made it just in time. Dusk was fast approaching, as was the chill that soon followed
darkness in early autumn. When he had left for Tyra the weather had still been that of warm
summer, but now autumn had already arrived.

As he quietly rode toward the palace stables, Numair wondered where Daine could be. Usually at
this time of day she would be working stall to stall, helping the hostlers as the Riders' mounts
returned after another weary day of training. She could soothe the horses in a way that noone else
could, and Onua and her crew could always use an extra set of hands at the end of the day. But as
Numair arrived at the long, low building that housed the stables he could not find a familiar face.

The newest trainees *did* just arrive a few weeks ago, he mused. I'm sure that there's some
crisis or another that Daine must be dealing with. With a small sigh of disappointment he
brought Maret to a halt before dismounting. Tangling an ankle in a stirrup, he lay a hand on his
saddle to steady himself before attempting to extract his foot from the stubborn loop. Thank the
gods that Daine isn't around to poke fun at me, although I'm sure that I'll have to make it up to
Maret somehow. Finally able to stand up on both feet, he stretched his long limbs and reached
out a hand to lovingly pat Maret's long neck. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "I know that it must
have taken a lot of patience on your part to get me there and back in one piece."

"Talking to animals again, master mage?"

Numair froze. He would recognize that voice anywhere. Grinning, he continued to stroke Maret's
neck.
"It's a dreadful habit, I admit. One that I picked up from a young woman that I know quite well.
She can actually speak to animals, so perhaps the habit rubbed off on me." Turning around, he
allowed himself a few seconds to simply enjoy watching her. Gods, she was beautiful. Clad in
brown breeches and a dark blue jacket to stave off the slight chill of early autumn, her rosy
cheeks and mud-spattered boots indicating an afternoon spent in the crisp air, Numair felt he had
never loved her more than at that moment. "Hello, magelet."

"Hello, mage." She scuffed the toe of one boot in the dirt, feigning shyness as she shifted her
gaze to the hardened earth. Looking up at him through thick eyelashes, her lips pouted prettily
and formed a slight smile. "I trust you had a good trip."

Two can play at that game. Raising a hand to grab Maret's bridle, he slowly walked the mare
over to Daine. At this proximity he could see a tassel of her white scarf peeking over the collar of
her jacket. "One might say so. Although I found myself often wishing for some company."

"Someone to share camp duties with?" Daine's hand took hold of Maret's bit and expertly slid it
out of her mouth, pretending to focus exclusively on the task at hand when she could practically
feel Numair's dark eyes burning into her.

Numair stilled Daine's hand and covered it with his own on the horse's long, broad face. His
voice was quiet but strong. "Someone to share a secret laugh during long meetings, or to share a
piece of knowledge at the university library, or to share warmth in a cold and lonely bed."

Her eyes met his. Heat bloomed between them.

Numair raised an eyebrow in question.

"I'm sure I can find a hostler to see to Maret, with instructions to deliver your things later to our
rooms." How in the name of the Goddess does he still manage to make me feel so light-headed
and giddy?

Numair nodded, eyes holding hers. "Please."

Daine squeezed his fingers and quickly retreated into the stables, returning moments later with a
young lad whose fair complexion matched the clumps of straw clinging to his threadbare green
sweater. As they approached, Numair heard Daine delivering rapid-fire commands. "...just
returned from a long trip for His Majesty and he wishes to refresh himself. I trust you will see to
his mount and ensure that his saddlebags will be delivered to his rooms before last bell tonight?"

The young man nodded, a bit too eagerly as far as Numair was concerned. The mage eyed him
warily as he watched the stable lad appraise Daine's figure. "Aye, mistress Daine, that shouldn't
be a problem. Will ye be needing anything else this afternoon, then?"

Having reached Numair, Daine simply extended an arm and twined the fingers of one hand
through Numair's. Immediately her thumb sought his palm, and she smiled up at him. "Not at the
moment, Berin. Thanks ever so."
Numair smirked at the look of utter surprise on the hostler's face as the young man's eyes focused
squarely on the entwined fingers of the Black Robe and Wildmage. Drawing Daine closer to him,
Numair nodded at Berin in thanks before beginning the long walk to the main palace, his heart
full as Daine's thumb made secret love to his palm.

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