Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

Author's Note: Set shortly after Realms of the Gods.

Baroq of Oldridge ran as fast as he could to the stables. The page was under strict orders to fetch the Wildmage to attend to the Lord's hawk who had suddenly taken ill, just hours before the Fourth Company was to depart.

Stopping just short of the stable doors, he took a breath before he inched it open just enough to slip through. He knew better than to disturb the horses. Making his way down the middle, he'd almost reached the room on the end when he startled as a pony's head popped over a stall door.

Reaching a hand to rub the nose, he backed way quickly when the pony made a move toward him. Stepping back, he made sure to stay out of biting distance as he reached the door. Making his fist, he gently knocked.

After a few seconds of no response, he knocked once again a little louder. Placing his ear to the door, he was preparing to knock for a third time when the pony neighed from behind him. Raising his head, he eyed the animal before he came to a realisation.

Of course she wasn't there.

Knocking his own head, he dashed from the stables, pretty sure that the pony had just rolled its eyes at him. He disregarded the stable door that slammed shut behind him as he ran up the slope to the palace. Perhaps if the page hadn't been so tired, he'd have remembered: Daine had taken up new rooms at the palace after the Immortals Battle had ended over a month ago.

Ignoring the legs that protested at the climb, the boy finally reached the palace once again. The next door he knocked upon was opened on the second knock by a tall swarthy man who glared at him, sleep dishevelment apparent. 'What?' he asked grumpily.

He'd forgotten this part.

'Excuse me sir. I'm so very sorry to wake you up sir, but...' Thankfully he needed to fumble and beg no further as the Wildmage slipped past Tortall's most powerful mage and stood before him.

She was just shorter than him, dressed in breeches and a shirt that had seen better days, unruly curls hanging all around. Her eyes focused on the page as she tucked in her shirt. 'Don't mind him,' said the young woman. 'He's just cranky to be woken up.'

The tall man snorted in response. He looked ready to leave them, but when Daine leaned against him to tie her boots, he supported her short frame with a sigh of defeat. 'The sparrows told me that Puck's hurt.'

The page nodded wearily. 'If you could please come?' he asked hopefully. The quicker that he got the Wildmage to the Lord, the quicker he could leave and seek his own bed.

'Of course.'

'Give me a minute,' sighed the tall man. Flushing, the boy averted his eyes as the young woman rested a hand on the exposed skin in the V of the mage's shirt and spoke softly. 'You go back to bed. I'll be fine.'

Master Salmalín looked uncertain, before a firm push from his lover had him easing backward. 'Bring her back after,' he ordered.

Baroq of Oldridge nodded obediently, fearing the repercussions if he failed to protect the Wildmage, even as said woman rolled her eyes and protested. 'Numair...'

If he could have seen past his own tiredness, the page would have noted the stress lines lining Numair Salmalín's face and the weariness in Veralidaine Sarrasri's eyes. But as the pair kissed briefly, his mind was elsewhere: the hawk needed to be healed, Lord Sharr needed to be away with the Fourth Company and he had to report to the stable master in four hours.

Author's Note: This is a short oneshot that entered my mind about how the palace came to know that Daine had moved out of the stables and into Numair's rooms. My figuring? It just happened in the aftermath of the war and everyone got used to the idea.