Chapter Text
Part I: Daine
"Daine!" Numair beamed and stood to wave her in. "I wasn't expecting you today. What do I owe the pleasure?"
"Do I need an excuse?" She covered quickly when she saw Lindhall, having had half a mind to blurt everything out in one go lest she chicken out. She was acutely aware that she was tracking grass across his rug from where it fell from the stained knees of her breeches. "Hullo, Lindhall. No Bonedancer today?"
"Not today; he's in the menagerie."
"That's where Kit's spending her day." Daine exchanged a look with the mage, who grimaced.
"That sounds like trouble. Pass on dinner?" He turned to Numair. "I should probably check on them once we've wrapped up here."
Numair shrugged and settled back into his desk chair, pulling a thick text into his lap. "Fine by me. Daine, we're just wrapping up some lesson plans. Take a seat if you don't mind waiting." She'd spent plenty of time in his study and he knew she'd make herself comfortable without the need to be entertained. Instead, she leaned against the arm of a chair and fought the urge to tap her foot. Yes, Numair was the most powerful mage in the Realm and his opinion was sought out by many. Yes, he was a person with his own priorities and needs and should not be at her beck and call. No, she didn't care in the slightest and very much wanted his full attention at that exact moment.
When they finally wrapped up their work, Lindhall bid them both a good evening and took off at a spritely pace for the menagerie with an assurance to Daine that he'd look in on Kit as well. Of course, in the time she'd waited, she'd all but lost her nerve.
"Dinner? Seems I'm in need of a companion." Numair had cleared his desk and was closing a drawer when he looked up at her. "Daine?"
She looked at him, one arm crossed over her chest and the other at her mouth. She'd broken the habit of biting her nails years ago, so knew he'd notice. And if he noticed that, he'd know something was wrong so she'd better muster up a little courage.
"Is something wrong?" He watched her closely, poised to rise from his seat. She just nodded. "What is it?"
She scoffed, vexation overcoming mortification, and strode to his desk. "That," she pulled the goddess circle from her pocket and threw it onto the surface of his desk where it landed with a metallic clatter. "That useless—" her next words were a vehement series of curses that stunned Numair enough that by the time she was finished, he was looking at her in bewilderment as opposed to the pregnancy charm she'd just hurled in front of him.
He reached towards it before seeming to think better of it, pulling his hand back to clasp with his other in front of him. "Daine, what—wait, useless?" His head snapped back to her and she could see the alarm on his face.
She scoffed, waving him off, "No, I'm not pregnant. Horse Lord's, Numair, I'm not stupid."
"Okay," he held up his hands in apology, "in that case, I'm going to need more information." He motioned at the charm. In another scenario, she would have been amused to see him so bewildered.
"It keeps falling off."
"Falling off?" He asked to clarify and she nodded. "Here, sit down." He motioned to Lindhall's abandoned chair and she fell into it with a graceless sigh. "Now walk me through the problem." He was the picture of professionalism—except for the blush rising from his collar.
Daine pulled the badger's claw from around her neck and passed it to him. "It's supposed to be with that. But it just," she waved her hand at it, "keeps falling off. When I shift."
"Ah," he accepted the chain to inspect it, picking up the charm in his other hand and running his thumb over it in idle circles. "Every time?"
"No, and I can't work out the pattern. It will be fine for a while and then," she made a flicking motion with her fingers, "gone."
Numair turned to the charm, holding it up to get a better look at it in the window light, and his brows knitted in a familiar expression.
"You see something wrong?" She leaned in. From where she sat, the copper circle looked intact.
"Yes," his jaw clenched, "but I don't think it explains your problem. It's just about to earn you a lecture."
"If you think that's advisable." She grumbled, vexed enough already.
"Copper, Daine? You're a midwife's daughter, really," he scoffed and tossed the charm back on the desk.
"They get fair expensive." She really wasn't in the mood to defend her contraceptive choices, but she'd run out of options.
"Daine," his annoyance changed to something more familiar, "if it's an issue of cost, I'd be more than happy to cover a decent one. A good one."
"I've had a good one. I had four good ones—gold—and two silver, and that's my fourth of copper, at least." She sighed and he looked alarmed again.
"Just how many have you lost?"
"I'd say they're littered clear across the Realm by my doing. It's a little solace to think perhaps some poor common girls have picked them up. Perhaps I'm doing the Goddess' work after all." That earned a smile from him, albeit a brief one.
"So you don't always notice when it falls off." It was a statement, not a question, but she shook her head anyway.
"Sometimes, like that one," she pointed, "I realize quick enough. Though I still spent twenty minutes crawling around the pastures for it," she gestured to her grass-stained knees, "but most are just lost. Once Kit found one and rolled it around the hallways—right up to Sarge," she grimaced at the memory.
He looked somewhere between amused and horrified. "I'm concerned that you don't always know when it happens. That could—"
"I know." She cut him off. If anyone was aware of the risks, it was her.
"And to lose so many," his voice was low and he was running the chain of the badger's claw between his fingers to methodically inspect it, "I wish you'd asked for help sooner."
"I did ask for help. I've been to a healer's in Disart and Cavall, since I figured they wouldn't recognize me, and when they couldn't help I asked Alanna. She tried all sorts of things and when those didn't work she brought me to see Eleni—" She threw her hands in the air. "And now I am here."
He opened his mouth to speak before closing it again. She knew he had something to say that he knew he'd be better off not and guessed it before he had to. "I know I probably should have come to you first." She sighed, "but what with the topic," a blush spread across her face when she gestured to the charm, "I know how protective you feel and I wanted to avoid the discomfort. I mean, I still remember that fuss with Kaddar and all you were worried about then was a little kissing."
"I was not just worried about a little kissing," he said, incredulously. "But, I understand your point and I can't blame you for trying other avenues first."
"So you aren't angry?"
"Angry?" The suggestion surprised him and he shook his head. "No, and I'm sorry if I ever gave your the impression that I would be. It's well within your right to take a lover." She raised an eyebrow at him and he cleared his throat, "I will admit, it's not a topic we've really spoken freely of—though I suppose that's about to change."
"What do you need to know?" It was her turn to sound uncomfortable.
"Nothing else, right now. I'll need to take some time with both of these before I can recommend next steps—can I keep this for the night?" He held up the badger claw, knowing it hadn't left her for years. She nodded. "And—" he held up the charm and faltered.
She laughed at his expression, "yes, I didn't come to you under a deadline."
"That's not what I was trying to imply," he blushed, deeply, and put both items into his drawer. "I need to mull this puzzle over a little so, while I do that, why don't we get some dinner?"
She stood and nudged him with her shoulder when he walked by. "Thank you."
"We'll figure it out, magelet. Don't worry."