Midwinter in Corus was a force to be reckoned with. The entire city found itself caught up in the celebration, and romance, of the holiday. Feasting, drink, and dancing could be found in every corner—along with lustful couples if you looked hard enough. The celebration offered a reprieve from the dark, cold December days and so it was not without irritation that Numair and Daine found themselves two day's north of Corus on the day in question. A blizzard had waylaid their journey home and the pair was now confined to wait out the night in a cave just off the main road.

While Numair had become used to camping over the years, he had never been fully able to embrace the experience in the winter. He did not enjoy being cold, or damp, and the experience left him longing for the comforts of home on even the best of days.

"As least the fire's decent," Daine said, adding more wood and coaxing the fire higher. Numair offered a smile in response but his heart wasn't in it.

"Are you going to pout all night?" She sighed, eyeing him across the flames.

"I might." He couldn't help but crack a genuine smile. Kit twisted in his lap, before curling back into a ball—fast asleep. He stroked the dragon and felt her sigh beneath his hand.

"See? This isn't so bad. I bet you're the only one in the realm who gets to spend Midwinter cuddling a dragon." He laughed outright at this.

"You do have a penchant for looking at the bright side, Magelet. I will say that while we are lacking some preferred creature comforts I could not wish for better company." He offered a miniscule bow in her direction, careful not to crush the sleeping dragon.

"I can agree on that." She cocked an eyebrow at him, smile turning mischievous. "Though I have to say that there would probably be a fair number of broken hearts at court to hear that."

"Your swain's will have to wait for another year, I'm afraid," he sighed dramatically.

"I was referring to you, Master Mage," she stuck her tongue out, teasing.

"I don't think any hearts are breaking this year." He leaned back, feeling Kit stretch and shudder before settling once more. Daine was watching him thoughtfully, but did not speak. The moment stretched out, the crackling of the fire filling the pause.

"Well, this is fair pathetic," Daine sighed and stood, brushing dirt from her breeches.

"I'm sorry?" Numair looked up, having become lost in his own thoughts.

"This is no way to spend Midwinter. Everyone deserves a bit of luck."

"Luck?" Numair questioned, not fully grasping her meaning. By the time he had caught up she had closed the distance between them and, leaning down, placed a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. If he had thought to respond it was over before he had the chance.

"Midwinter's luck, Numair." She smiled, blushing, and plucked Kitten from his lap before retreating to the back of the cave where their bedrolls were waiting.

"Midwinter's luck," he called to her after a long moment, pleased that she was not witnessing the blush that he could feel burning in his cheeks or the smile that he could not shake.