13. Little Bit Rusty

I was serious about needing practice against warriors, I just didn't realize how true it was until I stepped into the practice yard with Vhiané and got my ass handed to me not once but twice. Fortunately, Vhiané is a gracious victor-again, due to his noble upbringing and time as a chevalier-and doesn't gloat. He simply helps me up, compliments me on being a formidable opponent, and offers to escort me to the infirmary when I noticeably falter climbing out through the fence.

I take him up on it. I'm pretty sure it's just bruises and sore muscles, but I've thought that before and found out it's actually hairline fractures or internal bleeding. Besides, I don't like walking around with clenched teeth any more than the next person. I'm only mildly surprised to find Mal is the one manning the infirmary, only because I'm so used to my horrible timing meaning Jowan's the one to patch me up. Brandel raises his head and whines at our approach before settling back down with his chin protectively atop the elven mage's feet.

"Where's Tarin? I thought this was supposed to be his shift," I comment, wincing as Vhiané helps me ease onto the edge of the table before taking his leave.

Mal shrugs. "Aye, it was. Sable was havin' trouble with her nightmares again an' he asked if we could switch so he could help her. Or try to."

"That poor woman," I sigh, and regret it immediately. "Ow!"

"What's wrong?" His brow wrinkles in concern.

"Vhiané trounced me," I inform him through gritted teeth. "Apparently, I'm a little bit rusty fighting warriors who are actually. Damn darkspawn have made me soft." I shift gingerly and reach for the straps on my armor, hissing slightly in pain as I undo them. "I'm pretty sure-ah!-that it's all just bruises and the like, but I figure-ouch-better safe than sorry, I should have someone check for me."

"An' a very wise decision tha' is, too." Mal stands, carefully easing his feet out from under Brandel's head, and shuffles over to where I'm perched. He rests a hand against my back, warmth of his skin sinking through my lightweight undershirt, and sends a pulse of magic coursing through me. It tingles and I jolt. "Sorry," he winces. "Only way for me tae see what's wrong."

"No, no, you're fine," I assure him. "It just... felt kinda weird."

"Well, I should be able tae take care a' you off just th' one. So no more weird." He smiles.

"So, how does that work, exactly?" I ask, mostly for conversation's sake. To keep me distracted from how much I ache.

"Th' magic travels differently through damaged tissue. So it lets me know where there are injuries," Mal explains, dead stare fixed somewhere over my shoulder as his fingers trace along my ribs. "Nothin' feels or sounds broken tae me. I think you were right; just bruises. But there's some nasty ones. He pauses for a moment, concentrating, and I feel a soft wave of numbness creep over various aches and pains. "That'll help for a little while, but I would recommend a warm bath. It'll do even more for ya than magic can."

"Thank you." I climb down from the table and gather my armor. "That helped a lot."

"Och, I'm glad," Mal replies, ducking his head shyly. "I'm just a wee bit rusty on the application side of healing magic."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. "You'd never know. You did a good job."

"Thank yeh." He shrugs, tucks a loose lock of hair behind his ear. "Last time I tried tae heal someone, didn't do much good."

"And who was that?"

He offers a grim smile and gestures toward his eyes. "Me."

"Oh." I bite my lip. "Well, you did a lot of good for me, Mal. If that helps at all."

"It does," he nods.

"I'm gonna go take that warm bath now," I mumble as I take my leave.

"Best a' luck with th' rest a' your day," Mal calls after me, and I can't help but smile.

oOo

The bath feels like heaven. Especially since it takes me long enough to get it ready that whatever Mal did has worn off and I ache. All over. I soak for as long as the water stays warm and then climb out, trailing water across the floor as I retrieve fresh clothes. Ones that won't smell like sweat.

I've finished dressing and moved on to brushing out my hair when there's a knock at the door. "You can come in."

"Sorry to disturb you, Commander," the dark skinned man apologizes as he enters.

I wave it off with the hand holding my brush. "Tarin, I'm the commander. I'm always available, it's in the job description. Plus, I really don't mind."

Tarin smiles sheepishly, rubbing a hand over his shaved scalp. "Old habits, Commander."

"What can I do for you?" I inquire, loosely braiding my hair and leaving it to hang over my shoulder. "It's about Sable, isn't it?"

"Yes," he nods. "I want to try again." We both know what he means.

"No." I shake my head firmly. "You don't have a good grasp on what you're doing, no training in how to use it properly. Last time it nearly killed both of you. I can't let you run that risk again. For both your sakes."

"Commander, she's my friend!" he protests. "I've tried everything else. Literally everything else. This is the only thing that might help her."

"Sorry, Tarin. I can't allow it." I hate denying him the only thing that may help ease Sable's nightmares-watching her suffer kills him and I know it-but the risk it'll just make things worse or outright kill them is too great.

Tarin sighs, cracks his knuckles. "There's nothing I can say to change your mind?"

"'Fraid not," I reply, shrugging apologetically. "Unless it's something like informing me you found a book on the topic in the library and feel much more confident in your abilities."

"I... understand, Commander." He nods reluctantly and turns to leave.

"'Rin?" I call, waiting for him to pause before continuing. "I really am sorry. I know what it feels like to not be able to help people you care about."

His lips twitch like there's something he wants to say, but all he does is nod once more as he leaves the room.

I groan and rest my head in my hands, hating that we don't know enough for me to feel comfortable letting him do this for her. Because I do remember the tightness in my chest when I was too slow to truly save Shianni, the ache of watching Alistair finish off the archdemon, the frantic , desperate helplessness watching Jowan face off with a Pride Demon or Melita slicing open Zev's face. And I hate it. So to be the one who puts someone else in that same position hurts. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose in hopes of dulling my encroaching headache. I think I need to take a page from Jowan's book and go brood.

oOo

So that's what I do. And it takes an hour for me to be found.

"How many places did you look before ya checked up here?" I ask Jowan as he sits next to me.

"Three. Your room, your office, and the stable." He scoots close and slips his hand into mine. "So, what's got you upset enough to sit on the wall and brood? I thought that was my thing."

I half-smile at the gentle teasing. "Tarin."

"Ah. He wants to try again?"

"Mm-hm. And I know what that level of helplessness feels like, so I hate telling him no, but-"

"You did anyway," Jowan finishes for me.

I nod, absently rubbing my thumb against the back of his hand. "If we knew more about this whole dreaming thing..."

"I know. But you know Dreamers, actual Dreamers-especially outside of Tevinter-are a rarity," he points out.

"Yeah, I do. I still don't feel right letting him take the risk with so little practice and knowledge. 'Specially after last time."

Jowan sighs. "That's a valid concern. But, Rahna, why don't you want to let him risk it?"

I frown in confusion. "Whaddya mean?"

"Are you worried about it killing them, are you worried about the threat of possession, about potentially losing two of you Wardens...?" He raises an eyebrows.

"All of the above," I concede after a moment of thought. "I had enough trouble killing abominations that I hadn't known before they were possessed, just knowing they were people at some point. To have to kill a turned friend?" I shudder. "The very thought gives me nightmares and you know it."

"Mm-hm. As for the risk... Why are you the only one allowed to take risks for the people you care about? You're always apologizing when Sigrun or Nathaniel or I help you and wind up in danger, yet throw yourself into things like Aeonar without a second's hesitation. How is Tarin taking this chance for Sable different than you coming to Aeonar to help me?"

I'm honestly speechless for a minute. "If a demon finds him and he can't resist..."

"So we have Declan supervise. The man was a templar, Rahna. He knows what to look for. And I can watch, too. Between the two of us, it should be much less risky."

I bite my lip. "You really think I should let him do it?"

"Yes," Jowan replies confidently, squeezing my hand as he nods. "Tarin's tried literally everything else, we can minimize the danger, and yes, I think you should."

"I like seeing you so confident," I comment, resting my head on his shoulder. "I'll think about it. That's the best I can give you for now."

He kisses the top of my head. "Good enough for me."

A/N:Alrighty, so now we've met all the new Wardens. To sum up, Vhiané is a warrior(I think sword/shield, but still making up my mind xDD), Arrik is a daggers!rogue, Sable and Tarin are mages; Sable focuses on creations magic(so she's heals/buffs/glyphs etc), Tarin's specialty is entropy, plus he's a Somniari/Dreamer(yes, like Feynriel). The only one I have a face ref for is Tarin(BJ Britt). Next chapter should involve everybody else finding out this secret Rahna's been sitting on for Nate, and reactions shall abound. :33

Also, writing Rahna's conversation with Mal now has me picturing him curled up in the corner of his cell at Aeonar, hands cupped over his eyes as he tries to fix himself but can't. *cries over my elf mage feels*