11. Mage, Mage, and More Mages
"I'm fine, really. It's just a cut." Tasha tried to wave off the concern from Alistair and the recruits even though she could feel the sharp sting and the blood sliding down her cheek. Damn hurlock. If she hadn't had the reflexes to jerk backwards, life could be a lot worse. Or nonexistent, as the case may be.
"But you're a mage and-" Jory stopped talking abruptly as Tasha pinned him with an icy glare.
"And just because I've got a cut, now I'm suddenly going to turn into a blood mage, right?" she spat, bristling. "Because I clearly have no sense of self control, right?"
"Let's just keep moving." Alistair shifted between the two, attempting to keep the peace. Medb's eyes flashed with green fire, resulting in a slight wince from Tasha, and she began to snarl at the knight, defending the mage. He didn't notice the whispering buzzing at the base of his skull, nor the tingle of magic in the air. The latter, Tasha did, and a shield snapped into place around Alistair just as a blast of lightning struck him. That was the first time she'd ever had a full power spell hit a shield of hers and she had to that say she didn't like it.
She spun around to see one of the genlock things leering at them. It carried a sickly looking staff. Her lip curled as rage she'd never felt before built and frost spread along the ground away from her feet. Medb went for her bow but before she could loose an arrow, Tasha had yanked a bolt of lightning down from the clouds and with deadly precision, slammed it directly into the genlock mage. It stiffened and then keeled over, staff clattering from its hand. Tasha didn't even realize how tense her body was, fists clenched at her sides, until the strain hit her like a brick and her head went fuzzy.
She was dimly aware that she fell to her knees but she was more focused on breathing and not passing out. "Okay," she coughed, wheezing. "I'm okay." She braced her hands on the marshy ground and let herself slide into the meditation exercises that had become second nature while she was living in the tower. Still, she could feel the cold biting at her, so with the little bit of magic she had left coursing through her veins, she pulled the cold energy into her body and forced it to react with her magic. Worry. Fear. Concern. Hatred. She had no more barriers up around her gift and she couldn't shift through the outside emotions besieging her.
It wasn't much but the extra addition of the cold bolstered her flagging strength enough that the cold mud soaking her hands faded away from her awareness and her breathing steadied. A gentle, metal-covered hand touched her shoulder. Unlike the last time they'd touched, he didn't flinch away from the defensive sparks that licked across the metal. "Tasha?" Alistair's voice was soft. Closing her eyes briefly, she sifted through the emotions besieging her. He was most of the concern though Medb took contributed a great deal of it. Sitting nearly buried under the concern was something she'd never felt before from anyone: wonder.
Her eyes opened and she slowly rocked back onto her heels. With painstaking care, she did not look at any of her companions and instead fixed her gaze on the dead genlock. "Guess I can kill things other than spiders," she murmured.
"What?" Medb asked, brow furrowed.
Tasha shook her head just quickly enough that her head didn't throb worse than it was beginning to. "Nothing. Just a thought I had. Help me up." Together Alistair and Medb pulled her to her feet. Taking measured steps, she carefully made her way over to her first kill as a free mage. Somewhere in the back of her head, she felt deep satisfaction that the genlock was a mage. Once she got its blood in the little vial, she turned to the others. "Okay. Unless there's something else we need to do that I also wasn't paying attention to, let's go."
Irritation flared from Jory as well as a sharp sense of disbelief. Before she could stop herself, Tasha turned on him, every muscle in her body once again tensed. Medb touched her elbow, glaring at the knight though she didn't know why exactly. There was only a slight wince from the elf as her leather glove had sparks dancing across it. "Not worth it," she muttered, glaring at their fellow recruit.
"Duncan wanted us to collect some Grey Warden treaties that were left here before the Wardens were forced to leave." Alistair explained quickly before the mage could blow up at her fellow recruit.
She studied the Warden long enough that he wanted to squirm uncomfortably under her even, unnerving stare. Then she swung her gaze up to a half-ruined tower built on the hill a distance away. "That's where you were leading us, isn't it?" she murmured. She missed the way he blanched but she did catch the flare of panic and tilted her head to look at him.
"You know, for being so completely oblivious, you're pretty observant," Daveth commented brightly, seeing to ease the tension, though he was concerned beneath the joviality.
Shoving the defensiveness down, she lifted one side of her mouth at him though there was just a hint of ice in her expression. "Or I could just be incredibly clever," she quipped back. Alistair smiled.
Mumbling something about foolishness, Jory pushed ahead, shoulders tight.
The glyphs on the broken chest, Warding and Repulsion, no longer gave off a faint hum of magic. Her temper flickered. "Maker damn it, they aren't here."
"What?" Alistair ignored the sparks that came from contact with Tasha as he nudged her out of the way. He let out a groan as he saw for himself there were no papers. For a moment, he was at a loss of what to do.
She was already upset and on edge after Medb accidentally summoned a demon called "Gazareth". Or possibly because of the attempted ambush with another genlock mage that had nearly killed Daveth. Or it could have been the hostility from Jory that sat just beneath the surface every time he looked at either Medb or Tasha. Or, and she didn't want to admit this one as a possibility, it could have been because she didn't know what to do with Alistair. So when the hairs on the back of Tasha's neck stood on end, reacting to the powerful wave of magic, she was about ready to scream. "Well, well, well," a feminine voice murmured huskily. "What have we here?" They all turned, Medb sliding an arrow onto the bowstring as she did so. "Are you a vulture, I wonder?" A woman was descending the ruined steps with an air fitting a barbarian queen and even Tasha blinked at how intensely beautiful she was. Black hair was twisted up onto her head but what was more interesting was her sharply intelligent raptor eyes. From the three men came the stirrings of desire though it was sternly quashed. Medb remained wary, on guard at Tasha's side. "A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" She stopped, still on the steps, tawny eyes appraising, judging, and narrowed when they fell on Tasha. "What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?"
This woman was a powerful mage and her magic swirled around her, cloaking her emotions. Warily, she watched her. "I would first know who you are and where you come from."
The woman lifted an eyebrow as she studied Tasha. There was no way she'd miss her being a mage but at this point it was more a question of whether or not the apostate would prove a threat. "You are the intruder here. I believe the first question is mine," she said mildly, almost disinterestedly. But Tasha had felt a flicker of curiosity from her through the shroud her magic produced. The apostate walked around the group. Medb tightened her grip on her bow. "I have watched your progress for some time," she informed them and did not miss the wariness in varying strengths cross their faces. "'Where do they go,' I wondered, 'why are they here?' And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that?"
After a moment, Tasha opened her mouth. "Don't answer her," Alistair cut in, watching the apostate. "She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby."
A sneer flitted across her face. "You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" she asked sarcastically, waving her arms to emphasize her opinion.
Alistair didn't blink. "Yes. Swooping is bad."
They were like two dogs growling at each other with hackles raised and the tension was forcing Tasha to fight the urge to wiggle. "She's a Witch of the Wilds, she is. She'll turn us into toads," Daveth said, eyes flicked back and forth between the Warden and the apostate who gave a short bark of laughter.
"Witch of the Wilds? Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?" The men bristled, clearly hating the implication. Tasha and Medb remained quiet, studying the other woman. Tasha, for her part, felt a deep kinship with this woman for one simple reason: freedom. She had freedom and Tasha got the impression that she would do anything to maintain it. For someone who'd been essentially imprisoned in a gilded cage, to find another mage so defiantly free was refreshing. The apostate turned to the two recruits. "You there. Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."
"I'm Medb and this is Tasha." The Dalish elf inclined her head toward Tasha.
"A pleasure to meet you." Tasha smiled. If the expression was a little stiff, no one commented on that.
The woman's sneer morphed into something that could be called a pleasantly surprised smile. "Now that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds. You may call me Morrigan." Alistair made a noise of disgust. She turned her sharp, tawny eyes on him, and softness vanishing. "Shall I guess your purpose?" she proposed, once more stalking about the group. Tasha could have slugged Alistair for that. "You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer?"
Alarm blasted through Alistair. "Here no longer? You stole them, didn't you? You're some kind of...sneaky...witch thief." Medb turned her head to the side and coughed to cover up the snort. Daveth watched her, eyes wide and nervous.
"How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?" Morrigan asked, deadpan.
"Quite easily, it seems," Alistair answered flatly. He straightened with the sound of splintmail sliding across itself. "Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them." The sinking sun lit him from behind, turning his blonde hair to golden fire, and even with his armor coated in darkspawn blood, he cut an impressive figure. Tasha could see the Templar he could have been but something itched at her mind. He reminded her of something, or someone, but she could not for the life of her remember who. But, more importantly, as her eyes swept his body, she found herself attracted to the man and the part of her still focused on Cullen baulked at the idea that she could want someone so soon. Guilt sliced into her heart.
Morrigan arched what seemed like an uncaring eyebrow. "I will not for 'twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing any longer if you wish; I am not threatened."
Alistair's brow sank down in the first glare she'd ever seen from him. "Who did remove them then?" Tasha asked hastily, forcing her attention onto the witch, and fighting against the tension in the air.
"'Twas my mother, in fact."
Medb tipped her head to the side. Her eyes were sharp, weighing the mage. "Can you take us to her?" she asked.
Morrigan smiled and the expression warmed her face. "There is a sensible request. I like you."
Wariness. Tasha glanced at Alistair, who continued to glare at the apostate. "It'd be careful," he warned Medb, eyes not leaving Morrigan. "First it's 'I like you…'" his voice went up an octave to badly mimc Morrigan's before falling back down into his normal range. Tasha his her smile. "Then zap! Frog time." Tasha held back a snort. What was with these men and frogs? That was not a normal mage skill so where did they get the idea that mages couldn't transform others?
"She'll put us all in the pot, she will. Just you watch," Daveth agreed. A light fr0st formed on the ground.
Morrigan met Tasha's eyes and confusion flickered across her eyes so fast, the other mage had to wonder if she'd simply imagined it. But she understood why. She imagined that the flavor of her magic, so heavily tied with her empathy as it was, was different from nearly anything else that could be encountered.
"If the pot's warmer than this forest, it'd be a nice change," Jory said. For the first time, Tasha found herself nodding in his direction. After a moment, he returned it and Tasha understood. She was a known threat and he'd rather deal with her.
Morrigan studied the group, eyes narrowed then she lifted her chin. "Follow me, then, if it pleases you."
Another trip deeper into the Wilds then. Tasha tried not to stay on guard, to put the woman at ease with her. But when they were brought to a small house, Tasha nearly went to her knees as magic more powerful than any she'd felt before in her life pressed against her shields, groping, searching, demanding. Alistair's hand went to his sword when she stopped, swaying and fighting to stay on her feet.
"I'm fine," she panted, pushing back against the magic. Amusement. She lifted her head to see an old woman step out of the shack. No surprise. That surprised Tasha and all of her attention went onto the seemingly frail woman. Somehow she'd known they were coming. There was no other explanation for it.
"Greetings, MOther. I bring before you five Grey Wardens who-"
"I see them girl," the old woman interrupted Morrigan. They had the same eyes, piercing, golden, predatory and the old woman's had a keenness to them that put Tasha on edge. "Hmmm," she said, studying the group. "Much as I expected."
Alistair scoffed. "Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?"
The woman lifted an eyebrow. "You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's eyes wide...either way, one's a fool."
"Fool is hardly what we should call you," Medb said, voice sharpening a little.
"She's a witch, I tell you! We shouldn't be talking to her!" Daveth was on the verge of bolting.
"Quiet, Daveth! If she's really a witch, do you want to make her mad?" Jory said, eyes darting between the three of mages. At this point, it didn't matter which she he was talking about.
"There is a smart lad. Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will." Her eyes fell on Tasha, and narrowed just enough that Tasha knew deep in her gut that Morrigan's mother knew what she was. Panic flashed through her before she swallowed it down. "And what of you? Does your woman's mind give you a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as these boys do?" There was a barely noticeable shift in her expression, but Tasha knew that there was a threat there somewhere. "It has been some time since I've met one of your particular talents and I must wonder if you know."
Know what? That the woman possessed a magic that felt ancient, older than the Tevinter statue? That at that moment she wasn't a threat but she also could be in the blink of an eye? "I'm not sure what to believe," she said slowly, eyebrows pinching together. She got the distinct impression that Morrigan's mother was impressed but…
"A statement that possesses more wisdom than it implies. Be always aware...or is it oblivious? I can never remember." The old mage shook her head. But her eyes never left Tasha. There was a keen intelligence behind the mad words and that concerned Tasha more than it should have. "So much about you is uncertain...and yet I believe. Do I? Why it seems I do!" A strange ripple went through her magic, feeding into Tasha's and once again she had to fight to stay on her feet. What do you mean? Tasha wanted to scream.
"So this is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" Alistair scoffed, stiffening a little when Morrigan's mother fixed her eyes on him.
"Witch of the WIlds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it! Oh, how she dances under the moon!" she laughed, throwing her head back.
"They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother," Morrigan sounded bored, but discomfort was clear in the slight tension in her shoulders.
"True, they came for their treaties, yes? And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these," Morrigan's mother said, offering a bundle of wax sealed envelopes.
Alistair puffed up in Warden indignation but then her words and action registered. "You-! Oh," Alistair said, deflating. He blinked, a little stunned. "You protected them."
Morrigan's mother lifted an eyebrow. "And why not? Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is greater than they realize!" The ripple passed over Tasha again and the hairs on the back of her neck lifted. She still had to force herself to stay upright, but the power wasn't quite what it had been. Or perhaps she was merely adjusting to it. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the old woman. Who was she?
"What do you mean?" Medb asked, tipping her head to the side.
"Either the threat is more or they realize less. Or perhaps the threat is nothing! Or perhaps they realize nothing!" SOmething about those words set Tasha's magic on edge but damn if she didn't know why.
"Thank you for returning them," Medb said. Her hand shook slightly as she took the envelopes but her green eyes, steady as they'd ever been, narrowed as she studied Morrigan's mother cautiously.
"Such manners. Always in the last place you look for. Like stockings!" The old woman laughed. Tasha's eyebrows lifted almost incredulously. "Oh, do not mind me." She laughed again and if Tasha hadn't known better, she'd almost have said the sound was a chortle. "You have what you came for."
"Time for you to go then." Morrigan sounded bored, tawny eyes glinting dangerously in the firelight.
"Don't be ridiculous, girl. These are your guests."
Irritation danced across Morrigan's face, but she clearly couldn't refuse her mother. "Very well. I will show you out of the woods."
AN: So sorry for not getting this uploaded again when I said I would. I was at a convention this weekend (IT WAS SO AMAZING) but it's over and I'm sad. So fandoms.