Jowan looked up from his breakfast, and froze for a moment. Even at a glance, it was obvious that there was something different about Tria as she entered the kitchen with Zevran and Owen, the two elves walking together in front of the mage, who had a slightly amused grin on his face as he watched the pair. She wasn't moving like the easily frightened, childlike person she'd been for as long as Jowan had known her; she walked with confidence, she almost swaggered as she entered the room. Her head was lifted, eyes bright with interest as she looked around, not quite as if seeing the place for the first time, but more as if it was some place she only vaguely remembered and was re-establishing familiarity with.
He put down his fork, rising to his feet, aware he was staring at her, aware of silence falling as the others turned to see what he was staring at. The movement drew her eyes to his; she paused, and then suddenly smiled. "You're Jowan," she said.
"Yes," he said hoarsely. "You're better?"
She nodded, smiling warmly at him. "Yes. And I thank you, for everything you did to help me," she said, then looked around the room, at all of them in turn. "I thank all of you."
Mara made a noise and rose to her feet, hurrying across the room and then coming to an abrupt stop. Tria grinned at her, and the tiny elf made a delighted sound, then the two hugged. Wynne, too, rose and walked over at a more decorous pace, and hugged Tria in turn.
"I am so pleased, my dear," Wynne said. "How do you feel? Do you remember much of what has happened while you were indisposed?"
"I feel well," Tria told her. "And I remember at least some of what has happened over the last year, though much of it feels... oddly dreamlike. As if it wasn't really me it was happening to, but someone else, like stories I've heard and then dreamed about. But I remember you," she said warmly, and looked around at all of them again. "I remember all of you, and how kind you've all been to me."
"I would like to examine you later, if you'll permit it," Jowan said as Tria walked over to take a seat at the table.
She nodded her head. "Of course," she said to him, and then gave Zevran a pleased smile as the elf moved to stand by the chair beside the one she'd taken, and poured her a mug of tea before pouring for himself and Owen, who'd sat down in the chair beyond that.
Jowan watched with some bemusement as the assassin served food to the two of them before finally serving himself and taking a seat between them. He'd seen Zevran do such things for Owen many times already – it was clearly part of the dynamic between the two – but he did find himself wondering why the elf was serving Tria as well. Especially when Tria smiled happily every time she looked at the elf. Surely Zevran hadn't... had he?
Owen certainly didn't seem at all worried by Zevran's behaviour toward Tria, and as protective as he'd been to date over her as a friend from his childhood, Jowan couldn't imagine that he'd have tolerated Zevran doing anything that might upset the girl. Surely there must be some innocent explanation for the obvious closeness between the two elves.
Alistair touched Jowan's arm, regaining his attention before resuming the conversation that they'd been having before the three had entered. "So... Sten's room, after breakfast?" the warrior asked.
Jowan nodded. "Yes, assuming Morrigan is fine with that," he said, and leaned forward to look past Arren to her.
She nodded. "Of course. Best to get your training in your new form done as soon as possible. If you do well enough indoors, perhaps we'll try a flight outdoors later."
Owen looked up from spreading jam on a piece of bread. "Flight?"
Morrigan smiled. "Jowan has succeeded in learning a second form; that of a raven. I'll be helping him to learn to fly properly after breakfast; I believe that the dining-hall that Sten is using as a practise room is big enough to cover the basics in, so that Jowan does not have to deal with outdoor flight before he's ready for it."
Owen nodded, looking interested. "May I come and watch?" he asked.
"I have no objections," Morrigan said. "Jowan?"
"Me neither. Mara will be there too, since she's already learned to fly."
"Not that I'll be doing anything more than watching," Mara said, smiling slightly. "Ravens fly rather differently than hawks do, and besides, Morrigan is far more familiar with this magic. I'm a raw beginner still; she's a master at it."
Morrigan smiled at her. "You'll master it quickly enough, my dear – have you given any thought yet to a second form?"
"Yes, but I can't decide. Something to use on land, I think. But I've no real interest in becoming a mabari like Jowan does. Some other animal that people will generally ignore and leave alone would be better, perhaps."
Morrigan nodded. "Well, I'm sure you'll think of something suitable. We can discuss options later, if you'd like."
Mara nodded agreement, mouth currently too full of toast and honey to speak.
It was actually a fair-sized group of them that gathered in the empty dining hall for Jowan's flying practise. All the mages were there, as well as Alistair, Zevran, and Tria. Sten had absented himself, preferring to avoid the working of magic as much as he could. Morrigan had the group of them gather over near the windows, while she and Jowan went off to the far end of the room together.
"Change when you're ready to," she told him, and then changed herself into a crow.
He took a deep, calming breath, glanced down the room at Alistair for a moment – reassured, as always, by the man's presence – and then concentrated. With all his practise in becoming a mabari already, taking the new form again was not too hard for him; just a short period of concentration, recalling everything that he knew about ravens, and then...
A lower viewpoint, and a wider one, colours somehow sharper, movement something that pulled at his attention. Even the slight movement of the watching people. He ruffled his feathers, unsettled, turning his head from side to side to view them; easier to see when he had one eye turned toward them, the vision at the edges not being as acute, and "edges" seeming to include when he had both eyes on something. A reversal of the human pattern; that instead of turning toward something to bring both eyes into focus on it, he had to turn away for a better view.
The crow beside him tapped him lightly with her beak, drawing his attention and startling him, so that he hopped away, wings half unfolding, before remembering that the crow was Morrigan, and that he was here to learn.
Concentrating in this form was harder than as a mabari; so much distracted him. Sounds seemed less important; smell as well, while vision kept tugging at his attention. He turned a bit more, so he could watch Morrigan-crow with one eye and the people with the other, fascinated by the sparkling some of them gave off just breathing, as shiny bits of their clothing shifted and flashed light at him. And found himself watching them again instead of paying any attention to the crow.
Morrigan pecked him, mantling at him and making an annoyed cawing sound, then darted her head at his tail feathers. He quickly turned further, moving that end out of her reach, and suddenly found himself feeling much calmer; the people and their distracting movement were out of sight behind him now. He settled, finally listening properly to the crow. To Morrigan.
She spread her wings, her claws digging into a crack between floorboards, and then flapped them; slowly at first, and then harder. Clumsily, he did the same, having to duck his head to see his feet and find a like crack to grip onto. He didn't hold on hard enough at first, claws scratching against dry wood and almost pulling loose at his first few flaps. He was startled, not having realized how powerfully the downbeat of his spread wings would lift him. He did better on the second try, tips of claws sinking into the wood as he flapped strongly, feeling how the wings moved, the slide and fold of long muscles across his back and anchored to his deep breastbone. Feeling, too, how the lift changed as he changed the shape of his wings, instincts waking and filling his brain with knowledge he hadn't known before; if this angle, this lift. Spread wide for gliding; tuck close for dives. The spread of tail, a rudder to guide him through the air...
Morrigan-crow suddenly jumped into the air, taking flight. Instincts kicked in for that as well, a startled 'fly, now!' feeling that had him following her into the air before his brain could even catch up to events. She flew down the length of the room, turned just short of the clustered humans, flew back. He followed, cawing once in surprise and triumph and joy. His first frightened flight, in the far-too-small room upstairs had been anything but joyful. But this... this was exhilarating. This was wonderful, even in so confined a space. He wanted more room; he wanted a whole sky to fly around in.
Morrigan dropped back down to the floor, cawing imperiously at him. Reluctantly he dropped as well, spreading his tail and backwinging, landing with a thump on the floor. Too hard, his legs splaying for a moment as he almost went tail-over-head. He crouched there, breathless, wings still half-spread. Morrigan-crow vanished, Morrigan-person reappearing in its place, and she crouched down, one hand reaching slowly out toward him. He pointed his beak warily at her hand, gaping slightly in preparation to peck at her, then remembered himself, and turned it away instead. She touched his back, talking softly, and he folded his wings. And then he was himself again, crouched on the floor and tired.
"That was very well done," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "Rest for a few minutes, and then we'll try it again."
He nodded, and turned his head to look at Alistair, smiling when Alistair grinned approvingly at him as well.