This is the last chapter. Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed. The response has been incredible, and persuaded me to turn this into a story instead of a one-shot. I might be back in this fandom- you’ve given a girl every reason to show up again.

One Summer Morning
It was late enough in summer that Daja put a dressing gown over her nightdress, but the sun still was shining far too brightly before she could pour her morning coffee. That was the plan, at least. Her routine was very simple. When she was awake enough that returning to sleep wasn’t an option, she would wake up and shuffle out of bed. If she was cold, she’d find her dressing gown. If she was very cold, she’d get dressed in warmer clothes before making her way to the kitchen.

Tris, who was the grumpiest morning person Daja had ever met, would have made coffee, and would sometimes have pastries in the oven before anyone could think to wake up. They had lost yet another housemaid who couldn’t tolerate anyone else messing with the kitchen, so Tris had taken over most meals and the ever-important coffee production.

She reached out for the coffee pot- and it was cold. Daja frowned sleepily. She had an unusually high tolerance for heat. She could pick up coals and red-hot pieces of iron. She knew what cold felt like- it wasn’t hot. Just like the coffee pot.

If the ceramic that held the coffee wasn’t hot, the coffee wouldn’t be hot. She glanced inside. There wasn’t even coffee inside. There was the stain from all the other mornings when coffee had been ready. Daja tolerated mornings only with libations of caffeine. She was out of bed before noon; someone could show her that it was for good cause.

Daja looked in the cupboard- and there was no coffee. Coffee was a dark powder that came in a blue canvas sack. There was no metal anywhere near the coffee. If Tris had moved it… Daja looked at the many, many cabinets, cupboards, and shelves in the kitchen. She looked at the empty ceramic pot that Tris usually heated with heat energy that lasted longer than a stove. She looked at the cupboard where the coffee had been. When she realized that she was looking at the cupboards again, she gave up and made her way to Trisana’s room.

She rapped on the door. Maybe Tris had been reading- it was likely. Tris was perpetually just a bit grouchy. In the mornings, she was awake and grouchy.

No response.

She knocked harder- and the door opened. It hadn’t been latched, which was enough of an invitation. Daja peered inside, squinting against the light. Tris’s bed was neat, which wasn’t a surprise- she always made her bed in the morning, even before she made coffee. Her bed was empty. Her armchair was empty. Chime was sleeping.

She checked the tower, which meant trudging up every last fight of stairs. No Tris. She checked the kitchen again. If Tris had left, she would have put a note on the table.

When Daja was back from checking Tris’s room a second time, just in case, she found Sandry standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes closed. After a few moments, Sandry opened the cupboard with the brass handle and found a blue bag.

“You found coffee?” Daja asked.

“Yes.” Sandry found a strainer while Daja heated water on the stove. Some in the area just poured powdered coffee into hot water, but no one in the house liked the texture.

Sandry kept the cloth in place. Daja poured the hot water. Between the two of them, they produced one full pot of coffee that only had a few particles of coffee grain. They poured two cups. Sandry found sugar and cream. Daja just took a few sips, not minding the temperature- her heat tolerance came in very useful, sometimes.

“Not as good as Tris does it,” she pronounced.

Sandry sipped her own after adding cold cream and several spoonfuls of sugar. She didn’t like bitter things. “Tris will have to show us how to make coffee her way,” she agreed. “Is she still asleep?”

“She’s not in her room.” Daja poured herself another cup of coffee. It wasn’t the best, but it was enough to make her semi-functional. “Did she mention going anywhere to you? She didn’t leave a note, and I saw her cloak in her room.”

“I haven’t seen her since last night.” Sandry stirred her coffee slowly. “She isn’t in the tower?”

“No, she isn’t. I checked there, too. Little Bear is still snoring on my bed, Chime is sleeping or whatever it is she does, and both Tris’s cloak and morning gown are in her room. There would have been thunder and lightning, if anything bad had happened.” Daja yawned, getting rid of the last early morning fog. “Little Bear almost always stays in Tris’s room.”

“I went straight to bed after the ball last night. I barely had time to slip into a nightdress before I collapsed in bed asleep.” Sandry frayed a hem on her sleeve, then repaired it with a thought and watched the threads weave back into place. “I think we would know, if something’s wrong.” She concentrated for a second, and- “She’s blocking me,” she said indignantly, rubbing the side of her head. “It’s a very prickly block, too.”

“I don’t like this,” Daja said. “Last night, Briar was walking her to her room- and then I put a pillow over my head because the two of them were out there talking for ten minutes and I wanted to go to sleep.”

“Could you check if Briar is awake?” Sandry said, already thinking a new spell. “I’ll look for her nightdress.”

Briar, Daja said quietly- he was partially awake. Good. Sandry and I-

Would you keep your nebs to yourself just for once? He relented when he felt that she was worried. Okay, okay- I’m not awake just yet, but I’ll try. What’s the problem?

Tris wasn’t in her room this morning- we don’t think she was there all night. We checked the tower, and there wasn’t a note, and-

She’s just fine, Daja.

She is? Where is she? Sandry asked, dropping the spell from her mind before it would have any effect.

I’ll tell you later, right?

Briar was- embarrassed? Daja thought for just a moment, and then felt a rush of heat cover her face. Oh. Well, that explained matters. Sandry was as pink as Daja felt.

Right, Daja said. She had recovered first. Well, um- good morning.

Whenever Tris decides to wake up, tell her that she should teach someone else how to make coffee if these late mornings are going to become a habit. Sandry recovered better.

You both are going to have to learn to relax, Briar grumbled, but they weren’t listening. Girls. The two of them were gossiping already, of course- he closed his mind to the both of them on general principle. He only needed one girl in his mind, thank you very much, and she was sleeping.

A stray thought later, an obliging clematis closed the curtains and stopped an unwanted stray sunbeam. He closed his eyes, wrapped a spare arm around her, and all he knew was warmth and the smell of lilac shampoo and a perfect summer morning.