So, Leah and DAWC challenges are kind of a thing for me now. This challenge: write a short story about the PC's specialization and why they chose it.
Healer
Leah winced as she poured a carefully measured spoonful of elfroot into the bubbling pot. She could just feel Wynne's eyes on her, watching to see if she'd mess up even this simple concoction. It made her feel like she was back in the Tower, that dreary gray old place. It hadn't been terrible there, of course. The books had been nice and she had enjoyed Jowan's friendship, and excelling at most of her classes hadn't hurt. But every time Wynne gave her that pinched look of disapproval, she felt trapped all over again.
"Now what else did I need…?" Leah shoved her brown hair behind her ears, poking through her pack for the stained and dirty recipe.
Hmph.
Leah glanced up at the silver haired old mage. "Yes?" she asked sweetly. Her blue eyes twinkled.
"It needs a pinch of deep mushroom and a finely sliced deathroot."
"Oh, is that so? Thanks." Deep breaths, Leah. The old windbag returned to her reading. Leah went back to her brewing.
Ahem-hmph.
"Yes?" Leah inquired again. It couldn't be right to hit someone who looked so grandmotherly, but she really wanted to. Wynne glanced at the pot mildly.
"It needs a tad more heat."
"Well thanks for your contribution, Wynne," Leah replied sarcastically, and shot a burst of flame at the already merrily burning tinder beneath the pot. As if she hadn't already been about to do that.
Ahem—
Leah threw her materials down in frustration, about ready to slap Wynne, and sighed as she felt the singing in her blood that meant Alistair was nearby. Maybe he'd find some way to distract the old cat-lady so she could brew her healing potions in peace. Leah felt the corners of her mouth tug up in a smile, just the thought of the big not-templar enough to drag her mood back from the edge. Leah counted down the seconds until he was within earshot. Three, two, one…
"Oh Wynne, you promised to do some darning for me," called her fellow Warden in a sing-song voice, holding his freshly laundered, still grayish and stained socks for the whole camp to see. Leah stifled a chuckle at the horrified look on Wynne's face, only for her laughter to die as the woman launched into another lecture. Leah picked up her spoon to stir her concoction a few more times.
"Leah, dear, you oughtn't to stir it so much. It needs to thicken."
Leah let out a frustrated yell, threw the spoon down, and stalked off.
~oOo~
Alistair found her a few hours later, sitting on a log with her fingers steepled in front of her face, staring at a little spring fed waterfall. He lowered himself down gently, so as not to disturb her, but she shifted to make room for him anyways, giving him a little smile that she didn't mean and returning her gaze to the view. Alistair touched her shoulder gently.
"Is there anything you need to talk about?" he asked quietly. Leah turned her big blue eyes on him. It seemed like she wanted to say something but she just shook her head.
"I just got a little frustrated. Don't worry about it," she replied lightly, but she wouldn't look at him.
"Believe me, I get it. All this darkspawn fighting isn't exactly my idea of a fun time either. But you deal with that every day. Quite well, I might add." Leah turned away, but Alistair captured her chin in his fingers. Her eyebrows twitched and suddenly Alistair became aware of how intimate it looked. He could already feel the blush creeping down his face. Oh Maker, quick, before I make a fool of myself.
"I, uh, I just wanted to see if I could help, you know, because you always help everyone and never get much in return, and because I was really a jerk before and I ought to—" He cut off very suddenly and Leah frowned, pulling away in confusion. Her eyes widened as big as cheese rounds as she looked at his chest, so Alistair followed her gaze downwards.
"Huh," he said faintly. "Is that a knife?"
~oOo~
"Wynne!" Leah's shriek rang through the camp, sending birds flying. Everyone came running as she hauled Alistair by the armpits, armor and all, towards them, her hair flying and her blue eyes wild. Red blood was dripping from between the links of his chainmail, a barbed dagger still embedded up to the hilt in his back. Leah shot the only healing spell she knew into him, but it was only making things worse, she could feel it. Her terror seemed to swallow her.
"Where in Thedas is Wynne?" Leah yelled, growing even more frantic. The silver haired Enchanter appeared at her side, carrying a bag that clanked with tools.
"What happened?" came her businesslike tone as she stretched the warrior out on a mat near the fire.
"We were talking and he sprouted this in his back, I didn't see who did it," Leah explained in a rush. Oh Andraste help him, she found herself praying. She felt so useless.
"Here, get him inside," Wynne said, grabbing his feet. She and Leah hauled him into the healer's tent. Alistair moaned as they jostled against the dagger embedded in his skin. "We need to get this armor off him." Leah began undoing the buckles, her eyes widening as she saw the blood soaking his undershirt. The feeling of healing magic washed over her as Wynne tried to staunch the blood flow, but it did about as much good as Leah's own spell had. Leah could feel her heart pounding in her chest as the spirit healer gave clipped instructions, her frustration with the woman's earlier nitpicking forgotten. Alistair moaned as Wynne rolled him to his side and grasped the hilt of the dagger.
"I'm going to pull this out, I need you to apply pressure once I've gotten it," she said, tossing Leah a thick bandage. She counted down and yanked. Alistair yelled and Leah gasped, pressing the pad into the wound. It had been a clean shot, right between his ribs, and within moments the pad was soaked. She felt another healing spell buzzing around Alistair, but the bleeding didn't slow.
"Wynne, you have to do something, he'll bleed out," Leah demanded frantically.
"I need to fix the internal damage," the older mage replied sharply. Alistair groaned, his face milky pale.
"Just do something!"
Leah felt gentle hands around her shoulders and smelled Leliana's flowery scent. "Come on," the bard murmured gently. Leah shivered and let herself be led from the tent. Maker, she felt so useless! He was in there bleeding to death and she…
The Warden's blue eyes shot towards the tent. What in the Fade…? Her mouth popped open in a little 'O'. It was the Fade, or at least a spirit. What was Wynne doing in there? The sensation continued for minutes, and then suddenly cut out. Leah leaped to her feet.
"Leah," Wynne called, her voice sounding strained. The mage-Warden hurried into the tent. "Good," Wynne murmured. "Keep watch over him. I… need a rest." The old mage curled up on her side and was out in moments.
The Warden sighed in relief, mopping Alistair's forehead with a clean section of bandage. His color was much better, and the wound in his back was sealed with new pink flesh. He was going to be okay. "You templar bastard, you terrified me half to death," she muttered to the unconscious man.
~oOo~
Leah stared down at Alistair until the light slanted in orange curtains through the tent. The sounds of Wynne's quiet breaths and Alistair's slightly more labored breathing were all that she could hear, having sent the rest of her companions into the forest in search of Alistair's attacker.
Alistair shuddered and rolled onto his side. Leah sent a rejuvenation spell into him and he quieted. At least she could do that much. She had felt so useless earlier. Leah glanced at Wynne. She needed to be able to heal like that. What if someone else was in danger? Someone like Alistair, someone she was beginning to think she loved?
"How is he?" Leah jerked around to see Wynne rubbing her eyes.
"He's doing much better," she said quietly. "Thanks to you."
Wynne raised a silvery eyebrow. Leah turned to face her, her blue eyes earnest as she stared at the older mage.
"Wynne, today I felt so useless. I couldn't do anything for him, and it… well, it didn't feel too great." She dropped her eyes.
"Please… can you teach me to heal the way you do? I…"
A wrinkled white hand entered her view. She looked up.
"A truce," Wynne said with a smile. "I'll teach you, but no more sass like back in the Tower."
Leah grinned. "I can't promise anything… but deal. Thank you, Wynne."
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