Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Tamora Pierce. This is just written for fun.

For most of Winding Circle, Longnight was a time for prayer. According to Sandry, among the nobility Longnight was a time for prayer, too—but it was also a time for giving gifts, making merry, singing songs and drinking mulled cider.

"Don't you mean wine?" Briar had asked, and Rosethorn had quickly emphasized that it would be cider or nothing in Discipline, and perhaps Briar would like to learn about mulling spices. He had also found a sprig of mistletoe somewhere. Tris would not guess where, but plant mages had their ways, and this particular plant mage had a tradition he very determinedly attempted to uphold. So far he had received a kiss on the cheek from Lark and a cutting remark from Daja.

Tris listened from the table as Briar tried to cajole Sandry to step through the doorway.

"But I don't need to," Sandry objected matter-of-factly, smiling.

"Sure you do! Step outside for some fresh air," Briar recommended. "Take Little Bear for a walk! Go to the privy!"

Sandry attempted and failed to smother giggles.

Shaking her head, Tris renewed her focus on her book. She was reading—unsurprisingly—about different types of weather—unsurprisingly. A cup sat beside her, empty of everything but a very shallow ring of cider at the bottom. Tris had heard about "a storm in a teacup". She wondered what she, a watcher witch, could do with this cup. A storm, perhaps?

No, not a storm, not just any storm at least. Tris wanted to build something she knew only from books. She focused on the clouds outside, on what she knew of heavy rainfall. Miniature dark clouds began to gather.

The table jumped. Briar had thrown himself down opposite Tris, leaning forward on his elbows. She gave him a half-glance before looking back to the cup. "D'you know why I'm not going to try convincing you to go outside, Coppercurls?" he asked.

Because you don't want to kiss me. Because I'm fat.

"Yes," Tris replied. Tiny flakes of snow began falling from her manufactured clouds. Only Tris could tell, though; the clouds covered the top of the cup. She felt them falling.

"Right," Briar told her, "because you're always this way once you set to reading. Nothing short of an earthquake disturbs you."

With that he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, moving as quickly as any thief with two xes tattooed on his hands.

"Briar!" Tris yelped, jerking her attention away from her experiment.

"I'll crack his skull if you want," Daja volunteered. Off a look from Lark, she quickly added, "Only enough that he falls asleep. Not enough to do any permanent damage. Not that you would notice."

Whether because of the gentled threat or the joking tone, Lark nodded. "And you, Briar, that's enough of that. Take down the mistletoe, and leave the girls alone."

"What's that?" Sandry asked. Everyone looked to her. She pointed back to Tris, who looked down at herself, confused. Then she saw it. Her clouds had risen a few inches above and were dropping snowflakes very swiftly. A small drift had built up on the tabletop.

Ever collected, Lark replied, "It appears to be a blizzard."

"Blizzard?" repeated Briar, who had never seen or heard of such a thing. While Lark explained the concept to Briar, along with an anecdote about her travels as a tumbler, Tris focused on the clouds, first on making them stop snowing, then on making them disappear altogether. It took a few seconds to accomplish, but somehow made her feel like a real mage. She had done magic—and, harder, undone magic.

Daja touched the snow tentatively.

Before anyone could suggest what to do with it—throwing it out into the garden would probably earn death and dismemberment from Rosethorn, and not in that order—the door opened.

Daja noticed it first, and her remark at first confused Tris, who only noticed her teacher's arrival. "You should have taken it down when Lark told you to..." The others noticed a moment later: Niko, looking very confused, stood under the mistletoe. Sandry dissolved into giggles; Lark laughed; and Tris, who was not much of a laugher, found herself smiling. Then she became very interested in adjusting her spectacles.

"Will someone please explain to me what's just happened?"

Rosethorn, who had lost her patience and pushed around Niko, smiled. "You've walked under the mistletoe," she observed. Of course, being a green mage, she noticed the plant immediately.

"Now you have to kiss Briar."

It was a mix between gut-busting hilarious, and an awkward moment.

Niko's response was exactly what Tris would have predicted, down to the look on his face: "No."

Rosethorn took down the plant—"Before it can cause any more damage"—and kissed Lark.

"Well, how was it?" Lark asked. Only Tris heard her. She knew how to eavesdrop: while the others were joking around, Tris appeared to be studying, but really was listening. She had noticed the secret the teachers shared, though she had no idea what it was.

"It amazes me that we allow such idiots to have any power in running the Temple," Rosethorn retorted drily.

Briar yelped. Daja had scooped up Tris's snow and pelted him with a snowball. Briar bolted after her and, after a moment's havoc, Lark directed both of them outside. Daja ran through the door with Briar chasing after her.

"I had no idea there were such localized snowstorms," Niko remarked.

Tris blushed. It was only supposed to happen inside the cup, not all over the table—and Briar.

"Tris, I'd like a word. Outside," Niko added when Daja burst through the door, shot across the room and ran out through the back door.

Briar followed a moment later, breathless. "Where'd sh' go?" he puffed.

Tris sighed, closed her book, and followed Niko outside. She felt the chill of the air as soon as she stepped out, but it did not bother her: she simply called up a few warm breezes. Well? Wasn't he going to say anything? Tris wondered crossly. "Niko," she said, "it was an accident."

"What? Oh—of course it was."

Tris frowned. "Then what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked.

"Do you know anything about the University of Heskalifos?"

Tris thought for a moment. She did know a few things, but nothing that struck her as immediately relevant. "It's in Tharios," she replied, finally.

Niko nodded. "Heskalifos is hosting a seers' conference this summer," he said. "It will be one of the greatest gatherings in years. The theories and advances discussed there—"

"And you're going," Tris interrupted. Her tone was sharp and harsh. She wished Niko would not be such a... such a coward! He ought to come out and say it: he was leaving. Tris had heard that news enough times. Well, usually she had been told that she was leaving. At least she would get to stay in one place this time.

Surprised by her tone, Niko replied, "Of course I am."

Of course he was. Well, what did she expect? He was one of the greatest seers in recent history. If anyone should be present for a discussion of new scrying techniques, it should be Niko. Tris knew that. And she knew, with bitter certainty, that this meant he was through with her. She knew that happened. It always did. She had simply thought she could trust Niko.

And there is no one here to blame but yourself, she scolded. You knew better! She clenched her jaw. She had seen too many people disappear from her life. It shouldn't still hurt this much. "Well—enjoy yourself."

She turned to go back inside. She would not add the indignity of crying to the mess that had brewed in the past five minutes.

"I think you misunderstand—"

"I understand perfectly!" Tris retorted, not about to stand for having her intelligence questioned on top of everything else. "I understand that you told me I could trust you. You... you tricked me! You're leaving now. I understand that."

Niko replied calmly, "Yes, I did tell you that you could trust me, and yes, I am leaving, but I never tricked you." He sounded offended at the accusation. Had she been less emotional herself, Tris would have considered this and not responded as she did.

She was emotional, though. Beyond emotional, she was hurt. "No, you lied to me!"

"Trisana!"

Tris rocked back on her heels. Angry as she was, Niko had not deserved that, and she heard the pain in his voice, beneath the anger.

Again calmly, if a forced calm, Niko explained, "I am going to Tharios. You are coming with me."

"I... oh," Tris said. He had not been trying to deliver bad news at all! He had brought a pleasant surprise—and look how she reacted! The appropriate words here were 'I'm sorry', as Tris well knew, but her pride fought against those words, sorry though she was.

Apparently feeling merciful today, Niko ceded, "I should have phrased that more carefully. I apologize."

Later, he would receive a crooked, twisted sort of apology in return. For now, Tris merely nodded and—unable to acknowledge his apology with anything more than one of her own—asked, "When do we leave?"

-the end-