Chapter 14: The Healer
Something had changed.
Aneirin could feel it. He knew of course that the werewolves had struck Zathrian's clan. He had tried to help as he happened by several days ago. Aneirin did not take sides in such things; the elf used his powers to aid all. He had even helped the werewolves from time to time.
He did not take sides, and yet…there was something new in the forest. He could sense the power of it; he could feel it in the wind and in the earth.
He had just been about ready to bed down for the night when the strangers approached him. His hand went to his staff, but left it just as quickly. It seemed that they had need of his skills.
It was an odd group to be sure, several shemlen, a Dalish, a city elf, and a dark skinned giant that Aneirin did not recognize. They had a hound as well, but the beast kept its distance.
The giant carried a wounded elf in his arms.
Aneirin rose from his place by the fire, he would do what he could for the wounded one. If the werewolves had bitten the poor man there would be little he could do. He could ease the pain until the change was complete but that was all.
He hoped the strangers did not expect him to perform a miracle.
IOI
Bellethiel had never been so grateful to see the healer in all her life. It had been a long day; they had tracked the retreating werewolves for what seemed like hours. The beasts and spirits of the forest had tried to block their path, but Alim and his companions had denied them.
Alim, Bellethiel sighed, she found her eyes drawn more and more to the sorcerer, and it seemed that he had the strength of the gods themselves in him.
She…she was not used to feeling like this, this desire… to want to be close to someone. She had only just met him, and yet…she felt that she had known him her entire life. There had been men in her clan that had wanted to be, but she had refused them all…Alim…if he asked her…
She did not believe that she would refuse him.
They had come upon a strange fog bank in the center of the forest, the tracks showed that the wolves had passed through it, but the wardens and their allies had been unable to follow. It seemed that the beasts had protected their lair with magic.
Alim had been furious, neither he nor the witch girl had been able to breach the spell with their magic.
As they had searched for a way around the spell, they had come across Deygan. Bellethiel recognized him of course; the hunter had left days ago in a quest to retrieve Witherfang's heart. The hunter was badly wounded; the wolves had clawed him viciously.
She knew that they should try to take him back to the Keeper, but she doubted that Deygan would survive that long. Plus, Zathrian would be furious with her for leaving the clan. The Keeper might decide to cast the outsiders out; they could not afford that, not now.
Besides, she did not want to leave Alim's side.
That is when she had remembered the healer. Aneirin had visited the camp only days ago; he was certainly still in the area.
They were fortunate enough to find his camp.
The Qunari had complained about the delay, but agreed to carry the hunter at Alim's command. Now he gently lay Deygan down near the healer's fire, and Aneirin got to work.
The red headed woman said that the shemlen god must have watched over Deygan. The witch had scoffed at that idea, saying if the man owed his life to anyone it was his own gods, or perhaps Alim.
Bellethiel tended to agree with the witch
Alim and the witch had done what they could for the hunter in the forest, but Alim's healing magic was not the best and Morrigan was no healer at all.
Bellethiel had been grateful for their attempt, but was glad to have found help.
Aneirin offered them the safety of his camp for the night. Deygan was healing, but would not be able to travel until morning. Alim accepted his offer on behalf of the group.
The healer seemed quite knowledgeable about this place.
Alim hoped that the healer would know a way to get through the wolves barrier.
It was a chance at least.
IOI
Once the hunter had been healed, Aneirin had excused himself from the others. He…he found that he preferred solitude over company. The trees and the animals had always brought him a measure of comfort. Being around others was difficult for him now.
The elven mage approached the healer. Aneirin could not help but notice the mark of the circle that young warden wore. Aneirin had been a circle mage himself once, until he had escaped. He had thought he would never meet another after that.
It seems he had been wrong.
"How long were you in the circle?" he asked Alim.
"Too long," Alim snorted, "I was starting to like the smell of lake water. That is never a good sign."
Aneirin chuckled, it seemed that this Alim was not as stuffy as most of the mages in the tower. He thought that was a good thing.
"I escaped when I was fourteen," Aneirin informed him, "I fled to the forests here, looking for the Dalish."
"The Templars did not catch you?"
"Oh they caught me," Aneirin pulled open his robe slightly. Even in the fading light you could still make out the healed sword wound. After all these years, Aneirin could still feel the blade piercing his flesh.
Alim cringed.
"One of the clans found me," the healer sighed, "If they had not…I likely would have bled to death."
"Yet you did not stay with them. Why?"
"I couldn't," Aneirin replied sadly, "the chantry still had my phylactery, if they suspected I was still alive, they would harm whatever clan took me in. I…I could not allow that."
Alim nodded, he could see the other elf's point.
"And what of you," Aneirin asked, "Are you on the run from the circle as well?"
Alim sighed, "No. That…is a very long story. I was conscripted into the Grey Wardens. If I had not been conscripted…I would likely be dead now. The Chantry frowns on people who aid blood mages."
Aneirin's eyebrows went up.
"You…you aided a blood mage? Why?"
"I didn't know he was a blood mage, not at the time," Alim fidgeted, "Jowan…he…he was my friend, perhaps the only one I truly ever had. I…I could not just stand by while the Templars turned him into an emotionless freak."
"He was to be made tranquil then?"
Alim nodded, he did not feel like going into all the gory details. Lily, Jowan, they had needed his help; he knew he was possibly dooming himself, but he could not help it.
You looked out for your friends, even if their taste in women was not the best in the world.
"I had to help him," Alim confessed.
Aneirin nodded, it was a rare thing to find a good friend in the circle. Few mages risked that, if you had something that you cared for, the Templars could use it to leverage you.
He admired Alim's courage, even if the young elf had been wrong.
Alim sat down next to the healer. Aneirin pulled out a pipe, the leaves he smoked reminded Alim a little bit of jasmine. The healer offered it to him, but Alim declined.
Aneirin puffed thoughtfully, it seemed that he was debating something, finally he spoke again.
"In the circle, did…did you know of an enchanter named Wynne?"
Alim nodded, "I heard of her, but never met her. Why? Was she a friend to you?"
"She was an arrogant prideful sow," Aneirin chuckled.
The younger mage grinned.
"So pretty much your standard senior enchanter then," Alim quipped.
That comment made the healer laugh.
"She was my mentor, and I used to be so afraid of her. She would berate me when I did not carry myself in just the right way, or perform a spell to her satisfaction. She was probably the main reason I fled the tower."
"So…some good came out of her then," Alim offered, "I mean…you found your freedom."
"I suppose so," Aneirin sighed, "I have been thinking a lot about her lately, about what I left behind."
"Please don't tell me you're thinking about turning yourself in?" Alim asked.
"Creators no," the healer replied, "But…I…I find myself thinking about what could have been. What might have been?"
Alim said nothing, he understood what it meant to regret.
"I was wondering if you could do something for me," Aneirin asked.
"If it is in my power sure," Alim responded, "provided you help us find a way into the werewolves' lair."
Aneirin frowned.
"I don't know how to enter their lair, but I know something here that might. An old spirit…one who has possessed a great oak tree. I have spoken with him from time to time, he may aid you."
The younger elf frowned.
"Can such a spirit be trusted?" Alim asked.
"He is no enemy, I assure you," Aneirin smiled, "If I tell you where to find him, I must ask a favor," the healer removed a strange amulet from his neck. The amber stone was quite beautiful Alim noticed.
"If you find yourself back amongst the circle, I ask if you give this to Wynne. I want to let her know that I don't blame her. That I am grateful that she gave me the strength to discover who I truly am."
Alim nodded, it was not like they would not be heading to the circle after all. One of the treaties was for there.
Helping a fellow elf was the least that he could do.
Aneirin fell silent once again, and for a moment the two mages sat quietly, listening to the sound of the forest.
"The girl fancies you," Aneirin finally said.
"What girl?" Alim asked.
"The young huntress," Aneirin responded, "she fancies you."
Alim actually blushed, "Oh…well that is good. For a moment I was afraid you were going to say the chantry sister."
The healer snorted, the younger elf amused him.
"You do not like the sister?" Aneirin asked.
"They are trouble," Alim responded, he glared at the spot where Leliana had bedded down for the night, but his eyes quickly wandered to where Bellethiel slept, resting on a mat of grass and leaves.
Did she truly fancy him?
IOI
Later that night Alim stood his watch. He…he had not slept well and agreed to take Alistair's place early, Aneirin assured them that they were safe here, but Alim did not trust this place.
He did not like surprises.
The forest sounded peaceful, but Alim's magic told him that it was not. Whatever was calling to him out here was near, he could sense it. It…it felt like a plea, someone crying out hopelessly into the night, begging for help.
Alim was not sure what to think about that.
"You cannot sleep?"
He turned to find Bellethiel standing there. He blinked several times to make sure that he was not dreaming. She…she was a vision in the moonlight, her pale skin shown, her violet eyes flashed in the dim light. The Dalish armor she wore left nothing to the imagination, and Alim had an overactive one.
"No," he responded nervously, he found himself fidgeting and willed himself to stop. He did not want to look like a complete fool around her.
Belle sat down near him, close enough that he could smell her skin. Aneirin's suggestion that she might fancy him came back screaming. He willed his heart to slow but it was no use.
She truly was a beautiful woman.
"Tell me of your world Alim," she asked softly.
"There is not much to tell," he shrugged, "I was born in the Denerim Alienage, we moved to the village of Lothering when I was still very young. We were servants to a nobleman of that village. When I was eight, I was taken to the Circle of Magi, which is where the Grey Wardens found me, and where they recruited me."
Bellethiel nodded, "What was this…Circle like?"
Alim sighed; it was hard to put the circle into context for someone who had never been there. On one hand, it was a prison; he had been watched by the Templars constantly. On the other hand, it had also been his home, Irving, Jowan; these were the people that came to define his life. He would not be who he was now without them.
"The circle is where all with magical talent are sent," he began, "The human chantry fears us, and so we must be locked away for our protection, and theirs. It…it was not the easiest of places to grow up, but what I learned there…it came to… define who I am."
"Is there anyone waiting for you back there?"
"I don't anyone in the tower misses me," Alim snorted, "I was a major troublemaker there."
The look Bellethiel gave him brought him up short, it was clear that she was not asking him about his fellow mages.
She wanted to know if there was a girl waiting for him.
The air seemed to become more stifling then, Alim was starting to have trouble breathing.
Fortunately for him, Bellethiel changed the subject again.
"Once you have helped my people, where will you go?" she asked him.
"We have several treaties to fulfill," he informed her, "We must gather troops to help stop the Blight. We must find a way to kill the archdemon."
"Will the other wardens help you?"
"I don't think so," Alim sighed, "The rest of our order was murdered at Ostagar. The foreign wardens may try to come but they may be too late to help us."
Bellethiel nodded, so it was just Alim and Alistair against a horde of darkspawn, with these few companions and the treaties at their command.
It was truly great odds that they faced.
"If you would have me sorcerer, I would wish to come with you, when you leave."
"You would leave your clan?" Alim sounded surprised.
"I would protect my clan," she clarified, "We cannot outrun this, no matter what the Keeper says. The darkness will spread, and our home will burn. I…I would not stand by and do nothing. I would fight at your side sorcerer, as a Grey Warden…if you would have me."
Alim did not doubt the girl's skill, but she did not truly understand what she was asking.
"Being a warden is dangerous," he informed her, "I don't know the ritual that would make you one, but I warn you, if you went through it, it might kill you."
"I would gladly give my life to defend my people."
'And there would be none to miss you here?" Alim asked.
Bellethiel lowered her head.
"My parents would miss me, but I would like to think that they would understand why I chose this. Why I chose to go off with you."
The way the girl was looking at him made him nervous, he could practically feel the blood rushing to his ears. The way she said going off with him did not sound entirely like she meant going off to war.
Oh Maker!
Belle had moved so close to him, he was looking right into her eyes, and she into his.
"Will you allow this sorcerer?" she asked, her eyes bright with excitement, "Will you show me…your world?"
He was breathing so hard, she leaned even closer.
Their lips met.
It…it was like nothing that Alim had never felt before, every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire.
The kiss was chaste…at first, but then moved on to something more.
When she pulled away they were both gasping for air.
"Wow," Alim murmured.
Belle smiled warmly at him, her ears twitched with amusement.
"Wow? What is wow? I don't know that word."
"Here," Alim said gently brushing her face with his fingers, "Let me show you."
They kissed again, and again.
IOI
Leliana couldn't sleep. She was trying to be respectful, but that did not mean that she could not hear.
She was happy for Alim and Bellethiel, it was a rare thing to find someone on who you could depend on, that could offer you comfort in the dark hours. She had thought that she had found the same thing once…with Marjolaine.
That had ended very badly.
Leliana frowned.
She could still feel Marjolaine's blade buried in her side. She could still feel the brands on her flesh, the lashes on her skin.
Love was risky, it left you vulnerable, and it left you open to be hurt.
Like Marjolaine hurt her.
We're the same.
She shook her head, trying to push away the memories, but they remained.
She would see Alim spared that pain, but she could not tell him…she…she could not bring herself to warn him. She was not ready to share her past, not with any of her new companions.
They would never understand.
It was strange. When she joined the chantry she thought she was done becoming other people to serve her own ends. It seemed that she was mistaken.
It seemed that she had one last role to play.
She would do what she could to help, but in the end it seemed that she would have to keep her distance. It was like the first of the bards of Orlais said long ago.
A bard told tales of history.
They did not make history.