A/N: Hiya! Here comes a little something that's been driving me crazy for a while: an OS collection about Polgara and Durnik. Don't ask me why, I just got stuck with so many plotbunnies, I just had to do something about it. Since I like using Latin to make my titles appear classier, that's what you'll get, don't be surprised by the language: who wants to guess what the title means? :p


Polgara knew her husband had never thought himself a handsome man. And to most, perhaps, that would be right. Her Durnik was not a wildly beautiful man. For all his strength and the beauty, the goodness of his soul, none of his features seemed particularly striking.

And yet, she had always found him attractive. Intriguing. Fascinating. Compelling. There was something about him that drew you in. That compelled you to trust him completely. Totally. The way his goodness was reflected in his face. The way he would always help – whoever was needing it. The way he put himself entirely in his work, mindful of those who depended upon him. Mindful of doing things right. In everything.

She had been intrigued, fascinated really, by the simple way he carried himself. Even when they had just met, she had quickly noticed him. His mind. His mindfulness. His wish to do right. The strength of his soul.

Words alone could describe him well, after a fashion, but could not embody the entirety of the pull she had felt towards him, even when they had barely met. Feelings that had inexorably drawn her to him – drawn her to look for his smile, his support, his approval, his attention – but that she had refused to acknowledge, even in the solitude of her own mind.

It was his eyes, she surmised, one day as she was watching her husband sleep. It was his eyes that she had noticed first about him. His eyes that had first drawn her to him. They were a soft brown colour. Something deep, warm, full of tenderness. A kind of deep brown, between cinnamon bark and almost dark caramel. It was his eyes that drew her in, full of gentleness, of compassion for her, a simple woman who needed help.

Yet, if every aspect of her husband could easily leave her waxing lyrical, it seemed that he was not be quite so attractive or fascinating to others. They tended to underestimate him. Far from resenting that fact, she actually revelled in the fact that she had been deemed worthy of the treasure that was his heart. She counted herself lucky that he was hers, and that she was his.

To be fair to those who had yet to recognise his many merits, it was not his outside that had touched her so deeply. It was his soul. So good and true. It was the way he smiled, so gentle and kind. It was the way his eyes shone, alight with some inner radiance. It was the way they had radiated warmth, kindness, gentleness, acceptance, even back when they had been strangers. It was the way his gentility shone through. It was his calmness, an unbending beacon of strength in the freezing winter storms, that would give you support whether he knew you or not.

Polgara was not foolish or vain enough to believe that this side of her husband was hers alone. His gentleness was such an inherent part of him, that it could not be so. No. It was not just for her. His eyes were simply the mirror of his kind heart. Her husband was a philanthropist, to whom human life was sacred. He could no sooner turn away someone in need than he had been able to make her leave the farm when she needed shelter. And she had seen this side of him in action often enough during their quests.

She loved his eyes the most, she thought, stroking his hair as he stirred, when he was looking right into hers. She loved the way they seemed to smile just for her, conveying just how important she was to him.

Lazily, she stroked his cheek, then kissed him lightly. His eyelids fluttered open. His eyes seemed to drink in the sight of her, and he smiled. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and she could not help responding in kind. Caressing his cheek with a hand, she whispered "Good morning, my love". He gathered her in his arms, one arm around her waist and one hand playing with her hair. And he kissed her. "Good morning to you, my Pol".

I live for your reviews. I know this is rare pair hell, but... ^^'