or ooh headcanons about daine and numair? also I have not yet gotten my hands on the kencyrath but when I do I will be going through your entire tag afterwards, so like, if you wanted to do that one...

DAINE SARRASRI HELL YES.  I’m not sure if you sent in another ask before this one (if so, I didn’t get it), however it seems super unfair to answer your own ask with spoiler-rife Kencyrath yelling.  Also if you’re looking into reading those books, let me take this moment to shamelessly plug the podcast I’m going to be starting.  Anyway, this is the headcanon meme!

HeadcanonIf Daine got paid a copper by every courtier who condescended to her or mistook her for a servant, she could bankroll Numair’s experiments for a year. In the capital, at Pirate’s Swoop, the paces where she spends most of her time, this isn’t a problem because all the local nobility knows Numair and knows Daine and it’s all well and good.  But every time foreign diplomats or distant nobles or gods know who else show up, or they go traveling, Daine’s used to fielding some A-grade bullshit.  She does her best to resolve it on her own–she has a dragon on her heels half the time, it’s not that hard to prove her bonafides–because Numair gets extremely nasty whenever he sees it and frankly he can’t be trusted to focus up afterward. Daine despairs of him.

HeartcanonGod…I really want Daine and Numair to return to Gala at some point, to Snowsdale.  Specifically I want them to go back because Snowsdale needs her, needs the Wildmage to deal with some creature still running rampant after the Immortal War, and I want Snowsdale’s appeal to Tortall for aid to have happened without them ever quite learning the full name of the Wildmage they need.  All these people who turned on Daine, who hunted her like an animal–I want them to fucking face her as the Wildmage of Tortall, a personal friend of kings and emperors, a daughter of gods, a hero of realms.

I fucking crave that shit.

GutcanonNumair was braced for getting lectured nineteen ways to Sunday from the first time Daine kissed him–she’s of age, but he knows exactly what everyone is concerned about.  Frankly he’s glad Daine has such careful people around her (Arram Draper saw more than one promising young mage chewed up and spat out by a careless teacher with lust in their eyes).  That doesn’t make it any less stressful when Thayet, his dear friend and his queen and the most formidable unGifted person he’s ever met in his life, sits down beside him at the banquet to celebrate the end of the war.  She’s dressed in royal blue, a sweeping gown that drapes close to her skin when she’s still and swirls out to reveal yards and yards of cloth when she spins around Jon on the dancefloor, and her black hair is swept up and pinned back with delicate jeweled sticks in the style of her homeland, and she pins him with a stare that leaves no doubt as to her thoughts.

“Your Majesty,” Numair says warily.

“Numair,” Thayet says.  Her voice is calm and strong and queenly, because Thayet is always queenly even when the walls of the world are breaking down.  “I’m sure you can guess why I’m here.”

“I’ve already talked to Alanna, and George, and Ouna, and Buri, and Sarge, and a Stormwing,” Numair said, ticking them off on his fingers.  “And a minor god.  Whatever you’re about to say, I’ve already heard it.”

“I’m sure,” Thayet says.  “Just so we’re clear, though.”  She turns clear, calm eyes on him and lays her hand on his, a tender moment from his warrior queen.  “I wish you both all the joy in the world.  And if I ever hear that you were less than honorable with her, I’ll make Ozorne’s tender care look like a week at a hot spring.  Understood?”

“I wouldn’t stop you, Your Majesty,” Numair says sincerely.

“That’s very much what I’m counting on.”  Thayet gives him a clap on the shoulder as she stands and sweeps away, and Numair leans forward and takes deep breaths until his head stops spinning.

JunkcanonSometimes when they’re bored or frustrated with court life or just a little stir crazy, Daine and Numair shapeshift into birds and fly away to somewhere Away From People for the day.  Daine hasn’t been feral in a long time, but there’s still a part of her that loves lying out in the sun, naked, feeling the wind in her hair and the grass on her skin and not thinking about her responsibilities for a while.

Numair also enjoys this practice.

SpleencanonI haven’t read Numair’s books yet but: he and Ozorne dated when they were younger.  I don’t mean they held hands and exchanged shy kisses in the garden, either, I mean that Ozorne didn’t give a damn what (or who) Arram Draper did with his time as long as he always came back to the crown prince’s chambers, and that Ozorne threaded his fingers through Arram’s long black hair and pulled to expose the sweep of his throat and told grand stories about how Ozorne would be Emperor and Arram would sit at his right hand, his best adviser and prized weapon, the Black Mage to Ozorne’s Emperor Mage, and that Ozorne never forgave him for leaving. 

No one can fucking tell me otherwise.