Zelda was glad for the presence of another healer. She was taking classes, something called first aid, but while that was teaching her a variety of important skills, it wasn’t quite the same as magic. And seeing the Triforce was being ominously quiet (not that it ever truly spoke; it just made it so she knew things and had the occasional dream where she lived through one of her ancestor’s lives) her only other option was to ask those who had more knowledge.
Not that she minded, really. The opportunity to learn was not one she would pass up, and she did need the help. Goddesses forbid that the next time someone was badly injured she’d heal something incorrectly, or somehow make something worse.
She had brought a gift (it was polite) and brushed her dress down before knocking on the door. If anything this would provide a few answers, and if not she could at least discuss the clinic idea a bit more. Besides a location, she had only the faintest idea of what it would actually need.
---
It had, perhaps, been inevitable that Anders’ initial excitement at finding both something to focus his efforts towards and another magic user in need to help would turn all-too-quickly to nerves. The parts of him that were more Spirit than Man were, naturally, elated - in many ways, Justice had been waiting for a new Cause since their arrival. The rest, though? That had started asking exactly why he thought himself qualified to advise anyone on anything, and he didn’t have any good answers.
He drummed his fingers on his knee while he waited, both sides combining to leave him fidgety and restless, and when the knock came crossed swiftly to the door (rudely dislodging Urthemiaow from their perch atop his lap), taking a deep breath and affixing a smile before he opened it, standing aside to let her enter, burying his hands in his hoodie pocket.
“Zelda, right? Glad you could make it.”
---
Her own smile was bright, and she clearly meant it. And because it was polite (again) she offered a quick curtsey before she entered. She’d been raised with the idea of politeness, and while usually she’d discern who needed what sort of bow on the fact of status or lineage, here everyone was more or less on equal footing so curtsies were what she’d settled on.
“Yes, thank you so much.” Smiling, she extended the gift. Because she didn’t know anyone, or personal preferences she’d settled on something as inoffensive as food. The local markets had plates with a variety of things and she’d brought one of those. Everyone, to her knowledge, at least liked food. “In thanks for offering your time, and your aid. I do appreciate it.” ---
The curtsey, and the gift, were both unexpected, and he floundered for a moment or two - “Oh. You didn’t need to…” - before taking the outstretched offering, his smile growing slightly more certain. “Which is to say thank you, but really, it’s no trouble. If anything, you’re helping me figure out what I’m supposed to do while I’m stuck here.”
He clicked the door closed behind her, crossing over towards the kitchen. “Please, take a seat. Can I get you anything?”
--- “As housing assistant, that is part of my job,” she offered with a smile. “And it is only polite.” As offered she found herself a seat. As she sat she folded her hands on her lap. It was an old habit, born of long hours sitting and listening to those who wished for her judgement or advice. As far away as she was from her lands, some things stayed with her.
“Something to drink would be appreciated.” she would, she suspected, have to explain a few things and she’d be grateful for the drink then. And while normally she’d make small talk, compliment things she could every room seemed to look a little the same. So while it was a touch impolite she moved to her purpose. “I should think it would be easier to know what I do. I know I can heal. It is somewhat different from the magical abilities of my people, as this particular magic seems to be limited to me. We have healers, but none have come forward to claim abilities similar to mine.”
She considered the other things relevant, “I was not born with my healing abilities. They came to me as I grew, even though I know them to be part of my lineage. And since they came, I have yet to be ill. Or suffered any injuries. However I cannot limit that to my healing. I have a relic embedded in me that protects me from outside influences. It may very well be that which is keeping me from illness.” She wished Naryu would tell her, but there were subjects it stayed quiet on. It considered this not relevant, therefore she didn’t know. “As for what I am capable of, anything to small cuts to sharing my soul.” The last, she knew, might be curious. “I did it once, but doubt I will be able to do it again. It was a dire situation. And I cannot say how I knew I would come back, or that I even knew I had the capability before I did it. I know that might be frustrating.” ---
"Drinks we can definitely do. What would you like? Tea, coffee, something cold? We've an entirely ridiculous number of juices" - that one was on him, though, in his defence, having luxuries such as fruit be quite so readily available was still incredibly novel - "and Hawke probably has wine around somewhere if you'd rather…"
He paused in his rummaging once she began to speak about her magic, leaning against the counter as he listened. "Okay. Right, well… In my experience - and it is just that, my experience, your world might well work completely differently - an awful lot of magic is not knowing if you can until you try. And the trying is a lot easier if you know where your powers are coming from. What I can do, I do by drawing on something we call the Fade… I'm guessing yours is something to do with this relic?"
--- “Tea should be splendid, actually.” Not much was the same as what she’d had back home, but tea always made her feel better. Different, but close enough. She listened to the explanation before shaking her head. “No, my healing is part of my blood.” It was almost hard to tell, as used as she was to hiding such things from court but she grew somewhat uncomfortable. Being a chosen was all well and good, but her parents had ensured she had her feet firmly placed on the ground. It would be too easy for her to let her head get too big for her, even with the Triforce’s influence.
“The healing is separate from normal magic,” she began, finding it the easiest route. “I can heal because I am a direct descendant of a Goddess.” She folded her hands together so she could interlace her fingers. “I do know how that sounds, but Divinities take a much more active role in my home then they do in most places. My relic does allow me some powers, but it’s role is imparting me with wisdom.” ---
There was something reassuring about the ritual of tea preparation - something familiar and grounding, for all the specifics had changed (the magic item-heating box, for one, was going to be a difficult thing to get re-used to not having once they found their way home) - and Anders busied himself with that while he considered his response. Thedosian gods - or those claiming their lineage - didn’t just casually invite themselves into your home and ask questions about their powers.
“Ri-ight.” He exhaled, adding the scoop of fragrant leaves to the pot, drumming his fingers on the counter while he waited for the ‘ping’ that would signify the water was properly heated. “No, you’re… our Maker doesn’t really do ‘active’, more conspicuously absent. But okay. Magic in the blood, that I get. It tends to run in families in Thedas too…. So talk me through it. When you heal someone. What do you do?”
---- She smiled at the reaction, feeling a bit odd about it. Her lineage and all that it brought with her was such a common thread in Hyrule it took her a bit back that no one else experienced such things. She couldn’t quite tell if she felt jealous or saddened by the fact that whatever divinities they had in other places didn’t take such an active role in people’s lives.
“The Golden Goddesses left,” she offered in explanation. “It is only their relic that remains. However Hylia is still present and active. She does not speak to me, but She does to my Champion.” She tilted her head, considering. “I just do. I know that is not helpful. I do not know more. I can tell when injuries have happened. And I know you are ill. I theorize I could help, although it would take a great deal out of me, and I do not know what is is that is making you ill but I know it as I know my name.”
She didn’t frown, such things were not for royalty to do, but she did look concerned. “And I know there’s someone else,” she gestured lightly to him, “but not specifics. But I cannot tell you how I do that. Naryu, the relic, is not keen on sharing everything about itself, or myself. It lets me know what it deems important. In this specific instance, I know I can heal by touching others. I know that the limits are however tired I choose to make myself. I do not know how I do it.” She gave a slightly sardonic smile. “Wisdom is knowing when not to say something.” It was terribly ironic, even if he wouldn’t understand. ---
He tensed at the mention of his ‘illness’ and then - halfway to a flippant “Honestly, I’m fi-” - again at the revelation she could sense Justice’s presence, stance shifting slightly, a faint shimmer of magic like a heat-haze hanging above his skin as the Spirit pricked up its own ears at that, more than a little of its own tone bleeding into his as he retorted - “Wisdom never was my virtue” - deep and resonant, two voices speaking in tandem, one glib and human, the other tinged with something nearer regret.
He sighed, retrieving the now-hot water and adding it to the pot, turning over the small sand timer that marked recommended brewing time.. “What I… what we can do, we do by touching something called the Fade. That connection makes reality… a little more malleable, is probably the best description?” Another faint shimmer, pulsing along his veins as he moved back into the lounge space, setting the tea tray on the coffee table. He scooped Urthemiaow up from the couch cushions (the small armoured creature giving an indignant squawk at the audacity) and setting them on his lap as he sat (slightly too upright and rigid to seem entirely human, Justice still hovering near the surface).
--- That made her consider. Talking to spirits was another part of her, but along with many things the line between what Naryu gave her and what her blood offered was thin, at the very best, but it was something she could do. And this spirit seemed, at the very least, bonded to a human. Still, it was a spirit. Decorum demanded she be polite.
She set one hand over her heart and bowed her head. Not the full bow she’d given to Link, but one close enough. Spirits like these were the protectors of her lands, and guardians against evil. It paid to show them reverence. “I greet Thee, Guardian.” It was certainly odd, in it’s own right but then again Link’s own soul-shape was that of a wolf, and her entire line was cursed to be kidnapped. Odder things were known to have happened.
“I do not think it is similar,” she lowered her hand, and the Triforce glowed on it. For a moment she was distant. New information always came with a headache, the limits of a Divine relic not understanding the limits of a mortal’s mind, but at least she had some to share now. “I do not know what the Fade is. My healing comes from within. It is both my blood and Naryu’s Gift. The touch of Goddesses. Take one I could still heal.” She studied her hands for a moment before smiling to the creature he’d picked up. “It is very different.” She did like animals, even though she had so little time for them. Even her own poor horse was woefully neglected by the affairs of state. “Has it a name?” ---
Respect was new. Fear they were well accustomed to, both the obvious terror of their enemies and the subtle but insidious wariness of their allies, but Zelda’s reaction had them both momentarily disarmed, head tilting slightly, brow furrowing, before they returned the gesture. That was probably right… ish. Maybe. Etiquette was confusing at the best of times.
“The… I’m told it’s a cat? Urthemiaow. It’s… if you’re Thedosian, it’s a hilarious and not-at-all insensitive reference to a terrible monster.” He shrugged, scratching the creature between its ears (one of the few soft areas not guarded by talon or scale). “This one mostly claws the furniture and traumatises its brother.”
“I’ll confess I’m a little envious, though. Cut off my link to the Fade and” - a beat, and an ill-repressed shudder; the horrors of Tranquility were not really fit for polite conversation, and he had to bite back the urge to rant about Injustices neither of them were in a position to change right now - “no more magic, amongst other things. Knowing they can’t ever take your power from you must be wonderful”.
--- The return, she figured, was probably a result of the human interaction. She had not known a spirit to respond like that. Still, it was nice so she smiled and eased herself. She could sit as rigid as she needed for court, but she had no need to wear her title here.
She didn’t fully understand the joke, but she nodded nonetheless. She couldn’t see the cat in it, but then again cucco’s existed and everyone here seemed to ignore the creatures that looked exactly like them. ‘Cat’s could very well have a wildly different meaning depending on where one went. “I never had the time.” she did, here, “even for a cat. It seems very sweet.”
That made her more concerned. They’d drifted a little from their original point but she couldn’t be expected to hear that there was a way to steal someone’s magic and leave them powerless and not feel affected by that. She cared, and even if he wasn’t one of her people she still felt a responsibility. “I would not let that happen. And if it does, find me. There might be something I could do.” She couldn’t give promises, especially now Naryu was being quiet again, but she’d saved Midna by sharing her power. Something similar might be able to be done. “There are ways to ensure I cannot interfere.” She glanced aside for a moment, still feeling the guilt for failing her people. “One person with all this power makes that an easy task. Put me in a tower, and all I can do is watch as people suffer.” ---
“I wouldn’t know to.” He smiled sadly, still pushing down that urge to rail against the Chantry, trying not to see Karl’s slack and almost-beatific features rising in his memory. His hands shaking slightly as he poured the tea, sliding a mug in front of her and gesturing vaguely to the milk and sugar in a silent help yourself “I wouldn’t realise anything was wrong. And as far as I know, there’s no cure for it. But thank you. It’s good to know there are good people here. I’ll keep it in mind if the Powers That Be decide what we really need is a few Templars to brighten up the place.”
His brow furrowed as she spoke about her incarceration. Some things apparently never changed. “Who put you in a tower?”
---
That made her consider. “Then tell someone of my presence.” at least some provisions could be made. She cared, and wouldn’t allow anyone to be hurt if there was something she could do about it. “I can at least try.” Divine blood had to have some benefits, considering everything else.
She took the tea and fixed it as she liked it, plenty sweet as she needed some indulgences in her life. “I do not know what this Templars are, but if I see one I will keep them from your door.” She wasn’t a fighter, all she had was her bow really, but there were plenty of other ways of keeping people away. She’d failed with Zant, but she wouldn’t fail here. To her thinking, everyone in these apartments was under her protection, and she’d do all she could to keep them safe.
She sipped from her tea before setting it down at the question. “Myself, in some ways.” Which was terribly unhelpful, but still true. “There was an enemy. His name was Zant. He came into my throne room and attacked my guards with a ferocity and power I had not seen before. Then he threatened my people. He would, he claimed, destroy them if I did not surrender myself.” she set her hands around the mug and gazed into the liquid. All that wisdom, and she’d still made the wrong choice. “My life, for the life of my people. It seemed an easy choice. The only choice, really. He imprisoned me. Then he cast my people into his realm and turned them into spirits.” she shook her head, feeling the ache of watching it happen and remaining untouched still. “I did not know he was working on my true enemies behalf. I should have. He always finds me, always finds some way to imprison me. I should have done more.” She blinked and offered a sad smile, feeling the weight of five lifetimes and knowing there were more behind her unless she found a way to defeat gods. “It was not an undeserved punishment. I was at fault for my people’s suffering. What I endured was nothing compared to what they did.” ---
“There is no shame in doing the best you could with the information you had.” Again that low rumble of a second voice, that blueish shimmer, though this time it was the human part that sounded more certain, her surrender skewing far too close to compromise for Justice to feel entirely comfortable condoning it.
Anders exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. Most of their time in Night Vale had just been them, Hawke and the animals, and he cursed how used he’d gotten in that time to not having to actively curate which parts of Justice made it through at any given moment. “So. What was it you wanted help with? You said you had questions about healing, right?”
--- She disagreed with that. She’d known she was to be the next representative of the Cycle, that someone would come to her and claim her Kingdom and power as their own. There was, to her thinking, no real excuse for allowing Zant to do what he’d had, considering she’d had the knowledge of her previous lifetimes. Plus, she had power at her fingertips. Naryu would have kept her safe, and her people wouldn’t have needed to suffer. She’d fallen for a lie, and she’d spend her entire life making it right.
But there was no reason to argue that, and it wasn’t the reason why she had come. The change in subject was one she would take eagerly. “Yes. I should like to learn how, mostly. Big things are hardly an issue, but a cut would be out of my reach for I do not know how to hold back. I could also inadvertently hurt someone, or heal something in a way that is not beneficial.” she wondered if she explained it properly. “I watched someone set a bone once. The healer in question had to break it, again, and explained to me that to do otherwise might have made it so the bone would not set properly. If I healed a broken bone, I might heal it improperly. It is that difference I wish to learn more about.”
She took a drink, more out of politeness than anything before offering a smile. “I understand most of that is practice. I am taking classes but magic is different. I suppose my only question is if you could aid with that.” ---
“Right. No, that makes sense, by which I mean yes, I can probably help with that? Once the clinic is up and running, if you want to learn… I’d be more than happy to have a second pair of hands; theory’s all well and good but it’s better to put that theory into practice, I think.”
He reached to pour himself some of the tea. “The way my magic works makes some parts of that easier; it’s about declaring what is and isn’t true, in a way. This leg isn’t broken, that man is on fire, there isn’t a hole through my chest right now, that sort of thing. But you still need to know what the end result should be, and when the ‘easy’ fix isn’t actually the best one for the patient.”
---- She wished she knew if her own magic was anything similar, and she suspected if she knew more about magic itself she would. But she’d never studied it. A failing, one of many, really. “I do want to learn. It would be the height of hypocrisy if I have all this power and choose not to do anything with it. And you are right. Right now I know the easy fix. Or at least know myself capable of being able to provide it.”
“Speaking of the clinic,” she set her mug down, wishing she’d brought paper. “Write down what you need, in as much detail as possible. It sounds trivial and perhaps intrusive but people like to know what they are giving their money for.” That much she doubted ever changed. And getting a budget and using it creatively was something she’d been trained to do. “There’s also plenty of empty buildings. Feel free to take a look at them and tell any of the Housing Assistants which one would be better. What may look good to me might be a terrible layout for an actual clinic, as my eye is trained for different things.” She offered another smile and motioned to the creature on his lap. “We are also planning a service that will provide care for the animals when their people work. Mostly for the younger ones, so they have opportunities to make a little bit of money while ensuring they still have time for being young.” ---
Anders blinked.
“... alright? Yes. Sure, I can do that.” An awkward, nervous laugh escaped. “I’m sorry, I’m just… not used to having a budget, or a choice of location. My last clinic was in a Maker-forsaken corner of Darktown, using whatever the refugees could spare. And since then I’ve” - a beat, as he considered how to phrase the ‘and next’, because he doubted Zelda would take well to, well, the whole Kirkwall thing - “been on the move... “
He smiled over at her. “It will take some adjusting to, that’s all. Is it alright if I get back to you with that once I’ve had a chance to think?”
--- “I do not know what Darktown is, but it does not sound right. Healers ought to never go without.” Hyrule was far from perfect, but whatever squabbles the nobility had among one another they at least saw to it their people were provided for. If any healer came to her with a desire for a clinic she’d have provided one. She had less of a reach here, and none of her resources, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep to that.
Not wanting to overstay her welcome she smiled and rose from her seat. “Of course. There is no direct need to rush. This sort of thing takes time.” With a smile she set her hand over her heart and gave the full bow, the same one she’d given Link. “Thank you, for the answers you have given me so far.” What might seem little had been plenty and she at least had something of a promise of help. She straightened then. “And do let me know if I can help.” ---
“Yes, well, the whole ‘we think mages are dangerous monsters’ thing does somewhat limit your options…” His smile thinned, for all he tried to keep his tone light. “Thedas isn’t kind to people like us.”
Rising as she did - Urthemiaow giving another indignant squawk as they were once again rudely dislodged from their perch - he moved to open the door. “Honestly, it’s no trouble; you’re doing far more for me, making this happen. Anything you need, well, you know where we are.”