Work Text:
Daine awoke with a start. Someone had blasted open the front door to the chambers she shared with Numair. Wondering who could possibly have made it past both the palace guards and the protective enchantments they’d placed on their rooms, Daine grabbed her bow and waited for the intruder to appear.
It was Numair, looking slightly frantic.
“Horse Lords!” Daine muttered, putting down her bow. “Is there a reason you felt the need to blast our front door in?” she demanded, hands on hips. “Have you forgotten how to use a door like a civilized person?”
Numair crossed the room in two easy strides, and took Daine by the shoulders. “Are you alright?” he demanded urgently. “I received a note from one of the palace healers, saying you needed to see me, but she didn’t say why. I was afraid you were wounded, but when I went to the infirmary they said you were here…”
Daine sighed. She obviously hadn’t been thinking clearly when she’d asked the healer who’d attended her to send Numair a message. She should have known better than to ask Numair to come home without any explanation, never mind asking a stranger to send it. He could be fair foolish when he thought she was in danger.
“I’m fine, dolt,” she told him. “I hope you didn’t blast anyone else’s doors down in your attempts to reach me.”
Numair waved this concern away. “Not many,” he said, his air of panic only somewhat diminished. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes,” Daine told him, settling back onto the couch. “That is – I’m not injured. But I do need to tell you something.” She swallowed. She wasn’t particularly happy with the news she was about to deliver, and was unsure how Numair would take it. Numair sat as well, his expression growing grave as he sensed her apprehension.
No point dancing around it, she told herself.
“I’m pregnant,” she told him, staring at her hands as she spoke. “I know we used a pregnancy charm, but it seems it failed. The healer said charms do fail, though its rare, and few people know it. She seemed very certain, so I reckon she’s right.”
Gathering her courage, she peeked up at Numair. To her astonishment, his face was lit by an enormous grin. Leaning forward, he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, then kissed her soundly. Daine complied willingly, trying to banish her own fears.
After a moment, Numair pulled back. “Goddess bless,” he whispered, face radiant. “That’s wonderful news, Maglet.”
Daine managed a smile. “I’m glad someone’s pleased. I hadn’t realized you were so anxious to start a family.”
“Of course I want a baby,” Numair began, then stopped as her meaning sunk in. “You…don’t?”
“Of course I do, someday,” she gestured vaguely. Daine hadn’t spent much of her childhood envisioning marriage, as some girls did. As a child in Snowsdale she’d always assumed no one would ever ask her, and given what she’d seen there of marriage, she hadn’t minded. Once she’d come to Tortall, though, she’d seen marriages and families that worked. And she’d known from the start with Numair that she wanted it all, eventually. She just wasn’t sure she was ready yet.
“I do want to have a family at some point. But now? In the middle of a war?” She stood, agitated, and began pacing the room. “This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. With the killing devices gone, Maggur is more unpredictable than ever. I need to be available to spy. If I’m tied down with all this,” she gestured vaguely at her still-flat stomach, “Miles and George are going to be blind at a very important time!”
“I doubt George would appreciate your implication that he is helpless without your assistance,” Numair said, black eyes dancing. Daine grinned; the Baron of Pirate's Swoop was anything but helpless.
“I won’t deny that your absence will present some tactical difficulties,” Numair continued. “But you can still send the People out while you’re stuck at home; your range is certainly good enough. And its not like being pregnant is a permanent condition.”
Daine sighed. “Yes, but I hear you end up with a baby once its over.” She sat down next to Numair again, and he put his arm around her.
“I’m scared,” she murmured into his chest. “I’m not ready for this.”
“I know, sweet,” he said, smoothing a curl back from her face. “But we’ll tackle it together.”
She looked up into his face. “And you’re happy about this?”
“Very happy,” he assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, her eyelids, and finally her lips. Daine relaxed into the warmth of his embrace, feeling her doubts diminish in the face of his persuasion.
“Maybe being pregnant won’t be so bad,” Numair said, after a very agreeable pause. “It might force you to take a break. Mithros knows you could use it.” Daine ignored this comment. It was an old argument for them. He worried that she always placed the realm’s needs before her own, that she would stop to mend a sparrow’s wing or fix a squirrels’ paw but wouldn’t stop for her own dinner. In return, she worried that he couldn’t say no to the king, was too proud to admit when he was over-extended, and never delegated to the other palace mages. They both knew that serving Tortall was more important than anything else, and wouldn’t have had it any other way. But they couldn’t help but worry.
“It is nice to both be home at the same time for once,” she admitted. “I suppose you’ll need to head back to New Hope?”
“Not immediately,” he reassured her. Numair was only one of several mages that Jonathan had sent to fortify the new refugee camp commanded by Keladry of Mindelan. Daine supposed it was the crown’s way of apologizing that Haven had been so poorly protected. She had been planning on visiting in the next few weeks; Kel had shown that she knew how to work with her camp’s animals to protect their home, and Daine intended to give all of her friends at New Hope every advantage she could offer. Surely she would still be able to make that trip, but how many other things would go undone while she was pregnant? She sighed.
“Stop that,” Numair said at once. “No more worries about how everyone will mange without you. This is wonderful news, and we should be happy about it. Is it too early to start thinking of names?”
“Not at all,” Daine told him, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was thinking Ozorne for a boy, Zhaneh Bitterclaws for a girl?”
“There is absolutely no way that you are naming our child after a stormwing!” Numair said, laughing at her.
“Aren’t you the one who told me to be more tolerant of them?” she teased.
“Tolerant, yes. But this is too far!”
Looking at the lines of amusement in his familiar, beloved face, Daine thought how lucky any child would be to have him as their father. She opened her mouth, intending to tell him how much she loved him. The words must have gotten mixed up, however, because what came out was, “Do you want to get married?”
She felt Numair go still. He had been asking her for years to marry him, but Daine continued to put him off with a vague “someday.” She knew Numair was ready for marriage, but she didn’t see the point in rushing it. She already intended to spend the rest of her life with him, and they both knew it. What else really mattered?
Perhaps the knowledge of the baby had changed that, on some level, although Daine hadn’t consciously been thinking about marriage at all until the words had popped out. But now that they’d been uttered, she was certain that she didn’t want to take them back. She wasn’t traditional enough to truly mind having a child out of wedlock. But it was important to her that this baby was being born into a whole family, and getting married was a way of celebrating that.
“Well?” she asked Numair, who still looked stunned by the unexpectedness of her proposal. She nudged him with her hip. “It’s really a very basic question, Master Numair. A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will suffice…”
“Yes!” he said at once. “Of course. Absolutely.” He pulled her forward and kissed her.
“Maybe being pregnant won’t be so bad,” she said.
---
It turned out that letting Thayet plan their wedding was something of a mistake. To be fair, Daine hadn’t actually involved her; that had been Alanna’s doing. Daine had gone to Alanna to tell her that she and Numair were getting married, and to ask her friend if she’d stand for the Goddess in the ceremony.
“I’d be honored to,” the Lioness said, fingering the ember stone she wore around her neck. “Who’s Numair having stand for Mithros?”
“Lindhall,” she replied. “It will be a small ceremony. Just you, Ouna and Buri, their majesties – ”
Alanna grinned wickedly. “I doubt it will stay small once Thayet gets involved.”
Despite Daine’s protestations that the queen wouldn’t want to be involved in her wedding, Alanna insisted on telling her. And Thayet – who had just finished planning Roald and Shinko’s wedding, and by all rights should have been tired of the entire process – briskly informed Daine that she would take care of it all.
“A royal wedding has far too many diplomatic constraints,” she told Daine. “It will be nice to plan something that can really express who you and Numair are.”
“I think a small wedding might do that nicely,” Daine began, but the queen waved her off.
“You and Numair are an asset to the crown, and two of my best friends,” she replied. “You deserve a bit of a fuss.”
Thayet’s first idea was to incorporate ceremonial elements from Galla and Carthak, as a nod to Daine and Numair’s respective heritages. Apparently the queen had been thwarted in her attempts to include aspects of the Yamani marriage ceremony in Roald and Shinko’s wedding, for fear of upsetting the more conservative nobles, most of whom already regarded the alliance with the Islands with skepticism. Shinko had been able to wear a kimono and carry a fan, rather than the gown and flowers dictated by Western custom, but the rest of the ceremony was entirely Tortallan.
To Daine, however, a Tortallan wedding seemed just fine. She wasn’t sure that she’d ever seen a Gallan wedding, and had no idea what the customs even were. She’d left Galla behind when she was thirteen, after all. She had been willing to consider a nod to Carthaki custom, until she learned that it would involve pouring a libation to the Graveyard Hag.
“Traditionally weddings were conducted in a graveyard,” Numair told her, “and the parents of the bride would pour some wine over a grave, as an offering.”
“You want to have our wedding in a cemetery?” Daine asked, incredulous.
“That’s just the ancient custom,” Numair assured her. “Now days most people have the wedding wherever they please, and pour out a little wine to honor the Graveyard Hag.”
“There is absolutely no way that we are invoking her at our wedding,” Daine told him flatly. “You and I are Tortallan now, Numair. Can’t we just stick to that?”
“If you can convince Thayet,” he told her, eyes dancing, “then that is fine with me.”
“I think we would have been better off eloping,” Dane sighed.
“It’s far too late for that,” Numair told her. “I think she’s already invited half the kingdom. But maybe you can still convince her to keep the ceremony relatively simple.”
“Maybe,” Daine said doubtfully.
In reality, for all of her strange ideas, Thayet was good at listening to what Daine wanted. And though the scale of the event was different than she’d originally intended, Daine did appreciate that the queen was not particularly wed to custom.
Some of Thayet’s ladies-in-waiting were a bit more traditionally minded than their mistress, and found the entire event rather baffling. There was a bit of a fuss when one of the sillier girls wanted to know who was going to give Daine away.
“Won’t your father be attending?” the girl asked.
“Hopefully,” said Daine, who was still unsure if the Great Gods would grant her parents permission to leave for the wedding. Sarra had already told Daine that her first priory, as a Goddess of Childbirth and the grandmother-to-be, was to come once the baby was born. She was still hoping that they might be able to come to the wedding as well, but Daine wasn’t going to count on it.
“Well surely if he’s there he’d want to do it,” exclaimed the girl, who was new to the court and obviously knew nothing of Daine’s complicated familial history. Daine’s relationship with her Da was pretty good these days, but it still seemed wrong to let someone she’d met only a few years back – more recently than Numair! – give her away. Although the thought of this girl’s face at the sight of Daine processing in on the arm of the horned god was nearly enough to make her consider the notion.
“Someone else, then?” another lady suggested. “A close relative, perhaps?”
“Cloud is my oldest family,” Daine said musingly. “Do you think she’d like to do it?” Thayet laughed. At the puzzled looks, Diane added innocently, “She’s my horse.”
There was no further discussion of anyone walking Daine down the aisle.
That wasn’t the end of it, though. Daine was astonished at the number of people who seemed to have opinions about how she should get married. Even Diamondflame, who happened to be making one of his occasional visits to check on Kit, insisted on giving her his input.
“In a dragon ceremony, the two newlyweds perform a ritual flight dance together,” he told her. “It dates back centuries. It’s never been shared with humans before, but as you are Skysong’s guardian, I might be able to make a case to the Dragonmoot.”
Daine, who remembered all too well how the Dragonmoot felt about humans, knew that Diamondflame was teasing. Thayet, however, was quite taken with the idea.
“It would be such a nice tribute to your unique history, Daine,” she said. “The fact that you are Kitten’s guardian, and that both you and Numair can shape-shift –”
“When I shift back, I’m entirely naked,” Daine reminded her. “I doubt that’s the tone we’re looking for.”
“At least not until later,” the queen said with a grin, conceding the point.
Daine had agreed to Thayet’s suggestion that she invite Diamondflame to the wedding, along with any of his kin who might wish to attend. She hadn’t any idea where they were going to put the large assortment of animals, immortals and humans that were coming. The queen assured her that the training fields outside the Rider barracks would be large enough, and Daine had no choice but to hope Thayet was right.
“Maybe we really would have been better off eloping,” she sighed to Numair that night. “And what in Mithros’ name will we do if it rains?”
In the end, though, the day of the wedding dawned sunny and clear. And despite Daine’s reservations about the size of the cross-species guest list, Thayet had been right when she’d assured her that the training fields would be large enough. Many of the human guests looked askance at the areas roped off for “Dragons, Immortals, and Large Animals,” the clotheslines set up for the smaller birds, and the various fresh- and salt-water pools situated around the field for aquatic guests, but Daine thought Thayet’s staff had demonstrated real creativity in the range of accommodations they’d made available. They’d even thought to set out a few perches for stormwings, which Daine was surprised to find had all been filled.
The human guests were accommodated with the typical setup of chairs arranged in rows on either side of a wide, flower-strewn aisle. Thayet had arranged for a band of musicians, who started to play as the procession began.
Daine had originally rejected the idea of a flower girl, labeling it as another piece of needless ceremony, but she had agreed immediately once Thayet suggested Kitten. Kitten, for her part, had thrown herself enthusiastically into the assignment, studiously practicing her illusions with Tkaa. Daine had been strictly barred from those lessons, but she could see the results now. As Kit walked down the aisle she chirped cheerfully and large, extravagantly colorful blossoms materialized and fell through the air, shimmering as they landed among the plainer blossoms that were already there.
Next was Zek, who had insisted he had just as much right as Kitten to be a part of the ceremony. They had made him ring bearer, a job which the marmoset took very seriously. Daine smiled as he marched solemnly down the aisle and handed the two rings to Numair; the lanky mage nearly had to bend in two to accept them.
As one, all of the guests rose and turned, and belatedly Daine realized that was her cue to start walking. At the same moment, Numair straightened and their eyes met. Like Daine, he was dressed in the traditional wedding green. The color was a good one for him, but it was the bright sparkle of unshed tears in his eyes that caused Daine’s breath to catch in her throat.
The ceremony itself was a blur; Jonathan officiated, and Daine was told later that it had been lovely. But all she remembered of it was the feel of Numair’s hands in her own, the wide smile on his face and the moment when Jonathan announced,
“You are now wed in the sight of Mithros and the Goddess.”
They kissed. When they finally broke apart, Numair rested his forehead against hers.
“Still wishing we eloped?” he asked.
“I guess this was alright,” she smiled, and kissed him again.
---
Motherhood was even more exhausting than Daine had expected. Of course, none of the women she’d spoken to had tried to parent a newborn shapeshifter, so that might have accounted for the difference.
The final months of Daine’s pregnancy had been exhausting, as the baby’s constant shifting required that she do so as well. The concentration and power needed to switch so rapidly through a continuous stream of forms had been more taxing that Daine had expected, but it was nothing compared to the effort of managing a baby that did so while she tried to feed, clothe, and care for it. They’d eventually given up on clothing altogether, and created a sort of nest of pillows and soft blankets that worked as a bed for most forms. Feeding remained a challenge, one that frequently required Numair’s assistance. Their only reprieve came when the baby was sleeping.
They hadn’t named the baby yet. Daine wasn’t sure how to she and Numair could possibly settle on a name when their child couldn’t settle on a single form for more than a few minutes.
On quiet days – which were few and far between - Numair and Daine were able to wonder at the strength of their child’s power. The fact that the baby could shape-shift so continuously and effortlessly suggested a kind of natural wild magic that surpassed Daine’s own. Numair in particular found it intriguing to speculate on other ways this might manifest as the child grew older. Daine, as he liked to point out, had needed considerable training and practice to be able to harness her power, and had only learned to shape-shift after several years of study. Daine typically found such conversations to give her a headache, although that was perhaps attributable to chronic lack of sleep, rather than the theoretical guesswork.
Tonight it had been Daine’s turn to put the baby to sleep, which had been somewhat less of a challenge than it sometimes was. Apparently as wearied by the long day they’d had as she was, the baby had only flickered through a few shapes before settling on a young fox.
Looking down at her child, curled up with its head tucked under its tail, Daine wondered how it was possible to love something so strange so much. Well, I’m used to it, said the small corner of her mind that wasn’t too tired for humor. After all, just look at Numair.
Stealing carefully out of the room, she found Kitten sitting in Numair’s workroom, trilling softly at different supplies and watching them light up. Daine noted the pale blue of Kitten’s scales with satisfaction. Kitten had sulked for a few weeks after the baby was born, unhappy that Numair and Daine were devoting so much of their attention to someone else. Daine had noticed Kitten’s unhappiness helplessly, far too overextended with the baby to do anything about it. It had been Tkaa who had suggested that the young dragon sit in on the classes he was teaching the first year pages on immortals. Daine had accepted with gratitude, and the arrangement had proved beneficial for everyone. The young students loved having the dragon around, and Kitten basked in the attention. Tkaa was able to keep an eye on her during the day, and Kitten received enough stimulation to be relatively docile in the evenings at home.
At old Maude’s suggestion, Daine had also begun enlisting Kitten’s help in caring for the baby.
“Children feel displaced when a younger sibling is born,” Maude said, with the air of one who had learned through experience. “All they know is how to be the baby, since they’re used to being the youngest. Giving Skysong some ‘big sister’ responsibilities will help her know she’s still a part of the family.”
Daine hadn’t been sure the advice necessarily applied to dragons, but it had proved quite helpful. As a result, they’d taken to asking Kitten to watch the baby for the few hours between the baby’s bedtime and their own. It was nice to have a bit of time when she wasn’t listening for a thump or roar, knowing Kit would get them if anything happened.
“Kit? The baby’s gone to bed,” Daine told her. “Get us if we’re needed, okay?” The dragon nodded, and slipped out of the workroom and into the hall, heading towards baby’s room.
Daine peeked into the kitchen, hoping to see Numair almost finished with dinner. Instead, the room was empty. She found him dozing in a chair in the sitting room.
“Hey,” she said, indignant. “It’s your turn to make dinner.”
“It’s my turn to clean,” Numair said reflexively, only half awake. Daine snorted, looking around the chaotic chamber.
“Neither one of us has cleaned in weeks,” she reminded him. All non-essential chores had been suspended once the baby was born. Daine was starting to think they were going to need to find a housekeeper, though Numair had never been able to keep one for long.
“I put the baby to sleep, you have to cook,” Daine told her husband, gratefully settling into the chair as he vacated it. “Take your time, I’m going to take a nap myself.”
Daine wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she opened her eyes, although judging by the slanting shadows she’d been out for a while. She could hear Numair muttering to himself in the kitchen; no doubt he was contemplating some theoretical puzzle while he cooked. Daine was certain that Numair got some his best work done while doing housework, though he emphatically denied it.
A loud pounding sounded on the door. Daine winced, hoping that it wouldn’t wake the baby, and opened the door. To her surprise, it was George Cooper.
“George!” she said, astonished. “I didn’t even know you were in Corus. Is everything alright?”
“Is Numair home?” George said lowly, avoiding her question. “I need to speak with you both.”
Daine ushered him inside, concerned. The Baron of Pirate’s Swoop looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he lacked his normal air of relaxed good cheer. To Daine, who had seen him defending his home and children against Carthaki raiders, his distress was evident.
“Please sit,” she said, directing him to a chair. “Numair’s just in the other room, I’ll go get him. You’ll have to excuse the mess – things have been a bit hectic since the baby was born…”
“Bless me, Crooked God!” George shook his head. “I’d entirely forgotten the baby. Congratulations, Daine, and my apologies for intruding at what surely must be a busy time for you both.”
“Don’t be silly,” she told him. “It’s obviously important or you wouldn’t be here. I’ll get Numair.”
“No need,” Numair said, coming into the room. “I heard voices. George, is something wrong?”
“My Aly’s gone missing,” George said, hazel eyes grave. “She went out sailin’ for a few days when her mother was home, and she never came back. At first I thought she’d run off – she and Alanna don’t always see eye to eye,” he added ruefully. Daine smiled; she’d witnessed more than one of the Lionesses’ explosions over her daughter. Aly was a good girl, and as clever as they came, but she was a little lacking in direction. Daine knew Aly found their relationship as trying Alanna did, but she still would have wanted to see her mother off. She hid it better than the other children, but Aly worried about her mother when the Lioness was off fighting.
“How long has she been missing?” Numair asked.
“Five weeks,” George replied. “Lord Imrah says she never made it to Port Legann. Miles can’t find any trace of her in Corus. Of course I want to send out all my agents, but I have to be careful – if our enemies find out that she’s missing…” he trailed off grimly.
“Has anyone scried for her yet?” Numair asked.
“Alanna tried before she left, without any luck. She was that tired, though, what with the war, and the sea voyage, it might not mean anything. I haven’t told her Aly’s still missing,” he added, warningly. “I won’t have her distracted, and she’s too visible to go lookin.’ I know you must be busy with the baby - ” he said apologetically, but Numair cut him off.
“Nonsense, George, you were right to come. Let me get some things from my workroom and we’ll go see Jonathan. He should know about this, and he’ll want to take a look as well.” He stood and walked swiftly from the room.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening,” George said to Daine. “I remember what it’s like, having a little one. A moment of quiet is a rare thing.”
“Aly is more important,” Daine said. “I’ll have the animals keep a look out for a girl of her description. If she’s anywhere in Tortall, we’ll find her.”
Numair returned, mirror and crystal in hand. He kissed Daine on the forehead and ushered George out of the room, carelessly allowing the door to bang shut behind him.
Daine rolled her eyes. “The minute he gets something in his head…” she muttered, listening for sounds of disturbance down the hall. Sure enough, a shrill keen emerged from the baby’s room a moment later.
“At least I know where my child is,” she reminded herself as she headed down the hall.
---
After Rikash was born, it became apparent that, with two precocious and powerful young mages in the house, life was going to be in a continuous state of confusion. Between the children and their duties, Daine and Numair simply did not have time to spend alone. So Numair instituted the custom of going on monthly dates. Once a month, they would find someone to sit with the children for a few hours, and spend the evening together.
They took turns planning the evening and surprising each other. Often they’d both shape-shift and fly somewhere outside of Corus, just to get away from the city for a few hours. Typically, when Daine planned the date, she would go on ahead so that picnic and a change of clothes were waiting for them when they arrived. Sometimes Numair wouldn’t bother with either, and the evening would be enjoyable in an entirely different way.
Tonight it seemed Numair had opted for clothes, Daine saw as they landed on a beautiful, secluded mountain they both loved. He’d also gone for candles and roses, and an enticing picnic spread with a beautiful view of the setting sun.
“A candlelit picnic with a view of the sunset?” she asked him. “Isn’t that a bit traditionally romantic for us?”
“I thought, after our last date, we might both enjoy a bit of traditional romance.”
Daine blushed, recalling a haystack they’d deemed “private enough,” and several very surprised pigs.
It was nice to hear about Numair’s day without the frequent interruptions the children provided. He was teaching a class on magic to the older Gifted pages, and had spent the lesson on a tangent about the desert magic of the Bazhir, though it hadn’t been the plan. But that was standard for Numair; as soon as he got sidetracked by a bit of theory or lore, all of his lesson plans went out the window. The students didn’t mind it, though, and he usually managed to get to most of the curriculum, one way or another.
Daine found herself listening for the sound of a messenger knocking at the door, or for one of the children to cause a commotion. She half expected Sarra to come rushing in with some new animal friend she wanted to share, or to hear Kitten’s warning whistle as Rikash set yet another toy on fire in a misplaced outpouring of Gifted enthusiasm. She reveled in the quiet as she told Numair about her own lessons with Tobe. She’d recently taken him on as a student, and was just beginning to teach him healing. The boy was still reserved with her, but his eagerness to learn was quickly overcoming his natural reticence.
“It’s a pity life can’t always be like this,” Daine sighed, as they bundled their picnic supplies into a bag and left them under a rock for Numair to pick up later.
Numair’s mouth quirked. “What, love on the side of a mountain?”
“Exactly,” she replied. “Seems like it would be nice.”
“You’d be bored of the quiet in a fortnight,” he told her.
“Perhaps. And I’d certainly miss the children.”
As they returned to their rooms, Daine wondered whether the children would actually be in bed this time. It was a rare person who could put both children to sleep, but they’d left them with Thom of Pirate’s Swoop, who was currently studying under Numair, and one of the few people who could cope with the odd assortment of magic they were likely to face. Things seemed relatively quiet as they approached their chambers, so she was hopeful as she and Numair opened the front door.
“Mama! Mama!” two voices shrieked. Daine braced herself just in time, as the two children came hurtling out of their bedroom and threw themselves at her. A harried looking Thom of Pirates Swoop followed them out, grimacing apologetically.
“Sorry Daine,” said Thom. “I’d managed to get everyone into bed, but we were still working on staying there.” He looked sternly at the children, who both giggled.
“More story!” Rikash insisted, attaching himself to Thom’s feet.
“I was reading them Montesque’s A Theoretical Foundation of Scrying,” Thom said. “I thought it would put them to sleep; even I can’t make it through his prose without nodding off. But they liked it. Rikash was asking me questions.” He grinned at Numair, and ruffled Rikash’s hair. “You have some very odd children, sir.”
“Up!” demanded Rikash.
“ME TOO!” yelled Sarralyn, running over.
“Bed.” Daine said firmly.
“But Mama, I found a bird I want to show you!” Sarra whined. “She’s in my room!”
“Sarra, you know animals are supposed to stay in Mama’s workroom,” Numair told her. “Bring her there and Mama will have a look in the morning.”
“Bird!” Rikash said gleefully, wiggling in Thom’s arms. He pointed a chubby finger, and a smoky bird materialized and flew in circles above his head. Sarra giggled and danced around, trying to reach it.
“Alright,” Daine said, trying to regain control of the situation. “Thom, you can go home, thank you for watching the children. I doubt Mithros himself could have gotten them to bed tonight.”
“Mithros!” Rikash said.
“Yes, and if you don’t go to bed soon I’m going to ask Grandma to send him over. So you’d better hop to it,” she told the children.
The children shrieked with delighted terror, and ran down the hall towards their room. “Tell Ganiel I want another flying dream!” Sarra called back to her parents. “As soon as I’m allowed to shape-shift I’m going to be a bird all the time!”
Daine laughed. “The quiet would definitely get boring,” she said to Numair, and followed her children down the hall.