#that made surana feel safe and fall for her is slowly gone from leliana. and ofc surana doesn’t like that leliana’s a lot more actively

[drasticdoodling]

see i am very attached to my tabris but surana mayy be becoming my primary warden bc her post origins/awakening dynamic with leliana is intriguing to me. bc she’s a anti-chantry blood mage while leliana becomes one of the hands of the divine

[smolpocketsmonsters]

A Healer In A Tree

Part One

Elfroot green eyes flicked over those who had been injured in the last werewolf attack on the clan. Those who were surviving their injuries but… they were in so much pain, and there was nothing more he could do beyond wait.

They needed something but the cure was something that Aether didn’t know.

And Zathrian…

Zathrian had been acting particularly odd since the clan arrived in the forest and became trapped there, unable to leave least they face another assaults from the werewolves. He cared about his clan, yes, but Aether couldn’t help but feel that the Keeper was hiding something.

It increasingly nagged at Aether, chewed at him from the inside, but he couldn’t confront the Keeper about it.

He couldn’t because he was an outsider to the clan already, a foreigner even despite still being Dalish, a guest who came to study and help as much as he could. Zathrian’s healing magic was second to none and Aether could only hope to be able to achieve that level of skill in his lifetime, and Zathrian, despite his reluctance, had taught him much.

But the lessons, Zathrian told him yesterday, had come to an end.

The Keeper intended to go into the forest, alone, leaving his First to lead the clan in his absence should he not come back, and Aether was welcome to stay under her approval, to learn from her if she wished.

Zathrian had been gone for hours and Aether lingered by the wounded.

He had done all that he could with what he had, with the plants he had gathered three days ago, and now all he could do was wait and watch.

Quietly, the healer’s gaze slipped over to the bag he had settled among the grass beside the makeshift apothecary table.

Ten potent elfroot potions waited in it, for those who had rescued him in the forest to come back, the bargain he had made in order to get help out of that tree safely, least he try his luck at hopping from tree to tree and hopefully he managed to get closer to the ground without hitting every branch on the way down. An easy way to break every bone in his body and become easy prey to the sylvans and wolves, both were and other.

Instead…

He jumped.

Right into the waiting arms of a man with gorgeous amber eyes.

It was like every cheesy romance novel he had ever skimmed through back in Orlais, at least until his rescuer opened his mouth about the reward all the while looking at him like a meal.

The thought alone made Aether’s face flush with annoyance.

Angrily huffing, the healer started to pace, eyes flicking away from the apothecary table and the makeshift infirmary and out to the rest of the Dalish camp.

The group that had rescued him, Grey Wardens apparently, had other companions that had stayed behind, and much to Aether’s embarrassment, he had a history with one. A short history, just the memory of a night in a tavern, of flirting and drinking and falling into bed with someone tan, and blond, and elven, and Antivan.

Zevran, Aether recalled.

Every time the Antivan met his gaze the last three days since the new group showed up, it was with a playful, knowing smile that made Aether’s ears burn. Thankfully, beyond pleasantries, the topic of their one night was not brought up. They honestly hadn’t expected to see each other again when they parted ways that morning well over a month ago.

Strange to think that it really had been three days since the party of Wardens reentered the forest after escorting him back to the camp, back to safety.

Aether wondered about their safety though…

Then… he felt it.

He and Lanaya and Elora all looked up from what they were doing in unison, eyes rooting to the same spot in the forest, a sudden and sharp pull on the Veil, of something so completely wrapped in magic being unraveled so quickly that only mages would ever sense the event, and perhaps any mage who visited the area would feel it rippling in years to come…

It felt like a violation in and of itself.

And Aether wondered…

About the werewolves.

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Aether would admit he felt remotely slighted by Zathrian when he returned, the man hording his secrets as he worked on creating the cure that the Wardens helped him collect, all the while urging the healer to focus his attention on the immediate wounded: Aether’s own rescuers.

Strange how he was once again in close quarters with them, not that he terribly minded as he watched the Dalish Warden limp over to the rest of their companion and then flop down onto the ground by their personal fire, groaning as he slowly propped one foot up. Aether had an inkling that something was at least strained, possibly broken, but he didn’t have an opportunity to approach the small subsect of the camp before he heard a vaguely familiar voice.

“Aether, was it?”

Black hair and fair skin and amber eyes, just like he recalled.

The only difference now was the fresh and bloody wound on the Circle mage’s face.

“Yes,” Aether answered. “Would you like me to heal that?”

He nodded politely, remaining respectful this time, “I would prefer risking a minor scar than a very visible one,” he stated, “my healing would scar for sure.”

That made one of the healer’s brows raise in curiosity.

A blood mage?

Blood magic was not something Aether personally wanted to touch but some people were different. As long as no harm was done for the sake of malice, he truly couldn’t complain.

“Healing is not always an easy school of magic to grasp,” Aether commented, reaching up and he watched as the other mage winced slightly but stayed as still as he could under the healer’s attention. “When I’m done, you won’t believe you got hurt at all.”

Ather’s confidence seemed to amuse the Warden vaguely. “That’s the attitude.”

“More than attitude is skill.”

After that is silence as they allow the magic to surge into life, gentle and warm and calm and soothing with every stroke of his thumb over the injury, until, finally, Aether retreated and let Vergil wipe the blood from his face while the healer retrieved a shard of mirror from his pack, allowing the mage to see the results.

He was very satisfied with the results, the spot completely bare of any sign that the wound ever existed. Like it never happened. “Perhaps I could repay you for this feat? Would some ancient texts reading interest you?”

An unnecessary offer but one that none the less made Aether’s green eyes light up with interest. “You found some?”

“I did,” he admitted, “they are in surprisingly good condition, unless werewolves started writing their own thesis’.”

A humorous thought, but as much as Aether wanted, he still had a job to do.

“Your companion still needs healing. If the offer still stands when I’m done…”

And he smirked, an expression that was almost second-nature to that face. “It will still stand.”

And it certainly did.

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Despite the fact that the Wardens now had the Dalish elves as allies to their treaties, the party did not leave the following day as they originally seemed to have planned.

This was because of their Dalish Warden, Tierian Mahariel of the Sabrae clan, who, Aether later realized, was incredibly homesick. This adventure he was on as a Warden was by no choice of his own, in fact he was only a Warden because the alternative was dying. He wanted to stay and soak in the atmosphere of something familiar for just a little bit longer before he would be willing to go back, like a man dying of thirst drinking his fill from an oasis before pushing on once again.

Their stay had many benefits.

Their bard, Leliana, was able to learn Dalish stories from Sarel. Morrigan was curious about the people as well. Zevran wanted to indulge in some leisure. And Vergil Surana had some ancient texts that he was getting help translating with the help of the wandering Dalish healer.

Only Alistair seemed to be eager to get going.

But he was easily outvoted and easy to pacify with good quality halla cheese.

Besides, Tierian said, it was just for a few days.

And for the first couple days, Vergil and Aether often sat together, pouring over the texts, the healer translating what he recognized and also asking questions about the Circle, which Vergil expressed that the Circle really was only good for the book collection it had. Aether had never seen a true library before, and it made him even more curious.

It was the forest that eventually called to Aether, safer now than it had been before, and he asked Vergil to show him the places he had told him of, the tombstones and the ruins, the Grand Old Oak, and the hermit’s home. There was knowledge to be learned and knowledge to share, and if there was anything that the two of them both seemed to thrive for in equal measure, it was just that: knowledge.

The forest was alive with noise, no longer silent from the threat of the werewolves, and Aether was grateful for the peace that it brought with it, the scent of river-silt rich in the air as they neared the source. He collected plants along the way, tucked neatly into pouches for later care when they returned. It would take days for them to explore all the places that Vergil mentioned, and it didn’t bother Aether.

It was the sound of quick feet that drew Aether’s attention from his most recently picked plant, and Vergil’s eyes met his only briefly before a set of wolves burst out from the bushes, fangs bared and ready to do damage.

But they were not helpless.

It was lightning and ice in the background of Aether’s mind as he concentrated, tugging at strands of Fade beneath the ground like spiderwebs, seeping his control into the roots and earth itself before he pulled and the very nature that surrounded him became his own weapon, wrapping around those they captured like pythons before crushing them and dragging them down to feed the floral.

And when it was quiet, Aether looked up, and found Vergil’s eyes on him, muted surprise on his face.

And a playful smile made itself at home on Aether’s lips.

“Can’t let my brave Warden rescuer have all the fun, now can I?”