Starry-Eyed

A/N: This is the response to the Dancing Dove's DANGLES fluff-a-thon . I'm not very good at fluff, so please bear with me. This is a one-shot, so please don't review asking for a sequel. Special thanks to my beta, Seereth ::smooches and glomps::. Reviews and CC are greatly appreciated. I apologize for any repeated scenes or weird symbols. This site is apparently not agreeing with me.

Dedication: No one in particular. D/N shippers, I guess.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters that the Great Tamora Pierce created.

A swarthy man, dressed in fancy clothes, lounged in the grass, lanky frame stretched out peacefully. Overhead, a myriad of stars shimmered brilliantly in the cloudless sky: A perfect night for stargazing. In Numair's opinion, only one more thing – or rather, only one more person – was needed to make his night perfect.

A young woman with an unmanageable tumble of curls trudged up the hill, settling herself next to the man. Her figure was silhouetted by the bright torchlight from the palace.

"You've gone and ruined your clothes again, Numair," the young woman remarked.

"A night like this—" a large hand gestured toward the heavens "—no amount of ruined clothing could replace." The arm settled around Daine's shoulders gently. "How'd the osprey's healing go?"

The Wildmage settled her head comfortably onto Numair's warm, solid shoulder, wrapping her arms around her knees loosely. "It went well," she replied absently. "He flew off to roost with his flock."

If Numair noticed that a small dragon had toddled up the hill to settle near the two, he gave no sign. With a sigh, he lay down again, resting his head on the soft, damp grass. "Magelet, lay down. You've been working all day. You need to rest." The minute Daine lay down, Numair's arm snaked around her shoulders, serving as a type of cushion for Daine's head. She didn't protest, but snuggled up to his warmth.

"Look at the stars," the mage breathed. "They tell many tales."

Daine turned her head to gaze at Numair's profile. "What tales?" she demanded. "They just look like stars to me."

Her frank reply drew a chuckle from the mage. "That patch of stars—"h pointed to a spot near the southeastern horizon "—is rumored to be a god. He came down to the Mortal Realms in the form of a cat, to help the Lioness prevail in her quest to protect the Crown in dark years."

Daine concentrated on the stars for a long while. At last, she gave up. "I still don't see it. No whiskers, no tail, and no feline body structure."

Numair's lips curled upwards into a wry smile. "Don't be so literal, Magelet. See it as a picture where you connect the points of light." When still no reply came, he sighed softly. Glittering blue sparks appeared overhead, between certain stars, forming a figure with a catlike posture.

"That is an awful picture. Worse than your doodlings, Numair." The blue sparks faded.

"Oh, Magelet," Numair's voice was of despair, though his expression was that of a man amused by a child's refusal to believe that there were krakens in the sea.

Silence. The, finally, "Alright, it looked like a cat ready to pounce. A horribly deformed cat," she added hastily.

"Someday, your story will appear written in the stars," Numair murmured.

"Will I look deformed too?"

Numair chose to ignore that comment. "A constellation of a beautiful wildmage, daughter of Weiryn and Sarra." Again, the blue sparks glimmered, closer this time, forming an outline of a buxom stick figure surrounded with animals.

"Numair!" Daine croaked. "My breasts aren't that big!" She slapped his arm half-heartedly. The breasts of the figure shrank.

"A constellation of a great Wildmage, one who performed great deeds and helped save her country from the evil Emperor Ozorne." The stick figure slashed at a bird thing that Daine assumed was Ozorne with a pointy bit in her hand. The figure dropped from the air, red sparks lining the throat. Just before falling onto their bodies, the sparks faded from the air.

Daine nudged Numair with her elbow. "Don't forget about her teacher."

"Her teacher was a disreputable mage." Another stick figure appeared, significantly taller than the stick figure Daine. "And he loved the Wildmage with all of his withered mage's heart—"

"And she loved him back with all of hers," Daine whispered, reaching up to try and touch the sparks. They rearranged themselves to form a heart, which Daine idly stuck her fingers through, scattering the sparks in every direction. Eventually, they lazily drifted toward the couple's upturned faces. In the instant before they disappeared, Daine glimpsed Numair's expression, filled with an emotion she knew to be for her, and her alone: Love. He turned onto his side, and propped himself up on his elbow. The young woman started to protest that his arm was a good pillow when she was silenced by his lips on hers. They broke apart almost immediately. Numair rose and brushed stray blades of grass from his tunic, offering a hand to Daine. As a shooting star streaked across the sky, he pulling her up.

"Make a wish, Magelet," he whispered, breath tickling her neck. She gazed off into the distance for several long moments. "What did you wish for?" he finally asked.

"I wished that—that I could have children with the man I love, and that we could live long and happy lives," she whispered hoarsely.

"And so you shall. Within my powers, that is." Bending, Numair kissed her, warm mouth tearing all semblance of logical thought from her mind. "Love you."

"Love you too." Hand in hand, they strolled down the hill in comfortable silence, followed by an indignantly chirping dragon.