If the Calling happens, I’ll need "help."
Who: Maia and Morrigan What: Maia gets caught practicing blood magic, and discussions of good/medical uses for blood magic and healing magic and what to do if the Calling comes when: recently Where: their house Status: Complete Rating: PG-13 for, well, blood
Maia needed to practice. While she couldn’t do any of her big spells, she could still do the little spells in the back yard. That still wasn’t really enough, but sometimes she closed her eyes and heard the whisperings, so she needed to make sure she was sharp.
Practicing Blood Magic was always the thing that made her worry. For herself, mostly. Obviously she would never use it against another living thing, so she had to practice with herself. Medical uses, mostly. Closing a wound, pushing out a poison or foreign body. The problem was, that left a scar if she did it too often in the same place. She just didn’t want to worry Morrigan.
Blood magic definitely worried Morrigan. Sure she had a few spells in her arsenal that toed the line of being blood magic, such as the ritual that resulted in Kieran’s conception, but she was no blood mage. She’d never used her blood to power spells. Though unlike most other mages of the Dragon Age, Morrigan knew it had it’s uses, that there was power in it as was in all magic. She simply did not precisely approve of it.
As Morrigan passed through the kitchen, she noticed Maia outside, apparently practicing magic. Curious as to what exactly she was doing, Morrigan stepped outside. “Maia?”
“Bugger.” Maia palmed her knife against the inside of her hand and turned towards her fiance. “Yes love? Just doing a bit of low-scale practice.”
“What low-scale practice?” Morrigan asked. She wasn’t instantly suspicious, but she did know Maia preferred the larger, more flashy spells. Sometimes it was hard to tell what low-key spells were in Maia’s arsenal.
“Certain spells,” Maia replied. The knife disappeared into her sleeve and she walked over to Morrigan. “Probably spells I shouldn’t be practicing.”
Damn. She couldn’t hide anything. She didn’t want to.
Morrigan had to appreciate the honesty, even if she didn’t particularly like blood magic. “Blood magic, then.” There were dangers in it. At least Maia wasn’t going to make like some of the desperate mages and do something incredibly stupid with blood magic. That, however, was the only thing that eased Morrigan’s fears a bit. “What precisely were you casting?”
“A spell boost. To charge other spells.” Maia pulled the knife out and flipped it in the air. “I’m afraid I don’t know too many healing or shielding spells but I wanted to see what happens when they’re boosted with the power of my blood.”
One of Morrigan’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity as she crossed her arms. “I see. Had you gotten anywhere with that?” Maia at least had good intentions with her blood magic, but it was a slippery slope. It went for anyone, really, but Morrigan wasn’t going to lose Maia to the throes of blood magic if she had any say in the matter.
“It’s much easier with destructive magic. Out in the desert I once did some serious damage. I think because that way is easier? Which is strange. Blood is life, so you’d think that would be easier than destruction.” Maia wondered if it was just a societal block that made it harder.
“Blood is indeed life, but it is also power, just as magic is power. Pairing blood with a destructive spell would be far more powerful than using blood to power healing.” Adding power to more power tended to be a bad combination at times.
“I wish I was better versed in the healing arts,” Maia admitted, a heavy sight making her shoulders slump. She came over to Morrigan. “A school I know just enough for an emergency, but not enough to really be useful.”
“I can teach you more healing magic, if you wish.” Morrigan reminded her. Shapeshifting may have been her initial specialization, but Morrigan had since picked up healing and necromancy to add to her arsenal of magic. Plus there were all the spells that Flemeth had taught her, and everything else in that cursed grimoire as well.
“Could you? I could give you some tips on your elemental spells.” Maia believed in a fair trade, even with the woman she adored more than her own life. “You always did have the hands of a doctor.”
Morrigan chuckled a bit. “Someone had to help keep us all in one piece.” Wynne was the actual healer, but Morrigan had her own arsenal. Besides, wasn’t it best to have more than one healer around? Especially when one was an old woman who was possessed by a spirit and could die at any moment? “To answer your question, yes I shall teach you healing magic.”
“Somehow, Wynne and Anders would object. Not that you ever met Anders…” Although Maia had some understanding of what Anders would become after they’d parted ways. It was...alarming. She took Morrigan's hand. “How do the basics go again?”
“Wynne objected to my very existence, so that is unsurprising.” Morrigan knew of Anders, though she’d never crossed paths with him. She’d been in Orlais by the time he’d gone Mage Vigilante and blew up the Kirkwall Chantry. On one hand, Morrigan actually really liked that. On the other, the chaos that was wrought as a result was not something she liked. Squeezing Maia’s hand, she lifted Maia’s arm a bit and pushed her sleeve up, exposing a fresh cut that she’d suspected was there.
“Healing magic takes some level of finesse, but I find that it is easier to utilize when it comes from the heart.” Healing magic wasn’t flashy or bombastic, but it took finesse to pull off some of the larger spells, like healing an entire group of people at once. Morrigan was actually working on a necromancy spell that could resurrect someone when they fell in battle. Bringing her free hand up, it began to glow as she concentrated on a healing spell, and she placed her hand over the cut. The glow spread into Maia’s arm, and when Morrigan pulled her hand back after some moments, the cut was healed.
Maia often wondered if she could have done something to stop all of that. If, early on, she’d simply done to Justice what one should to with any potentially aggressive spirit or demon. No Justice, no Kirkwall Rebellion, no Exalted March. No Mage Templar War. No Rift. No Inquisition. Boil it all down and if she’d done the right thing Thedas would have been a different place.
“Feels warm,” Maia noted.
If Justice had been handled differently, perhaps there would not have been a Mage Rebellion at that time. But in reality, it really was only a matter of time until mages rebelled. Though everything with Corypheus most likely would have still happened. Hawke was the one who first let Corypheus out of his prison. Solas was the hand behind all of it. And now Solas was going to tear down the Veil and destroy the world if someone didn’t stop him. None of that was Maia’s fault. Not to mention Morrigan was inevitably tied to whatever was going to happen considering she had the compulsion to Mythal.
“It is. It is the warmth of magic working to heal the injury. The more severe an injury, the more power it takes to heal it.”
“Can it heal scars? Or is a scar inevitable?” The question might be a deeper one under other circumstances. There were many kinds of scars, and Maia thought that magic always left one behind.
“It depends upon the injury. Lighter wounds are typically healed with little sign anything had happened. Deeper, life-threatening wounds will scar with certainty.” That was how Morrigan still had scars from her dragon fight. Magic and potions could only heal so much, much like modern medicine. The more invasive a surgery, the more noticeable the scar the left behind, for the most part.
“Like the ones from the dragon.” Maia’s other hand went to Morrigan’s stomach, where she stroked it lightly. She looked at the healing Morrigan had done. “Good as new!”
Maia felt somber. She couldn’t really place why, only it had been her mood all day. Getting caught practicing Blood Magic hadn’t helped all that much either.
“Precisely,” she said, a light shiver running through her at Maia’s touch. Morrigan smiled gently, fingers lightly brushing over the healed cut. “That is good. It can also heal broken bones, so there is little need to set a broken bone with a healer around.”
“Mm…” Maia put her other arm around Morrigan and leaned into her. “Morrigan, love. Can I count on you to do something for me?”
Morrigan slid an arm around Maia’s back, holding her close. “What is it, love?” She wasn’t certain what Maia was about to ask her to do. It could be any number of things.
“The Calling. If the Calling happens, I’ll need help.” There weren’t exactly any Darkspawn to go die to and Maia didn’t know what would happen to her. It was one of those things that the Wardens had been frustratingly vague on.
Morrigan had an idea of what happened to Wardens when their Calling came, and it wasn’t pretty. She hated that Maia would have to go through it if they couldn’t find a cure for her. Looking Maia in the eye, Morrigan lifted a hand and pressed it against Maia’s cheek. “You have my word, if that happens, I will be there for you.” It pained her to think of it, but Morrigan would do what needed to be done, regardless of what that entailed. If she had to kill Maia to stop her suffering? She would, even if it would break her heart in the process.
“Thank you.” It was a terrible thing to ask that of someone, but Maia knew Morrigan was practical enough for it. She didn’t know any of the others from their world well enough and Morrigan was the only one with a lot of time spent with Wardens besides. And if the last thing she saw was Morrigan’s face? She could die with that.
“You are welcome,” she responded, gently stroking Maia’s cheek. It was a heavy burden, but it was similar to one she’d ask of Maia if Flemeth ever showed her face her. Morrigan would rather die than be used for Mythal’s will. Max would be someone Morrigan might also ask for that, in the event that Maia couldn’t. Max understood, and she trusted that he would help keep her from becoming her mother’s pawn.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” She leaned into Morrigan’s touch, closing her eyes. “I rather hope it doesn’t come to that. I was looking forward to seeing you age elegantly.” She couldn’t imagine Morrigan growing old any other way. Aging like Julia Roberts.
“I hope it does not come it either,” she responded. She then chuckled a bit. “Admit it, you simply want to know when my hair starts to go grey.” And potentially to see if Morrigan ended up looking like a mirror image of Flemeth or not in her old age. Which she seriously hoped she wouldn’t, but she was afraid of it. Alistair had already gotten under her skin once by telling her she had the same nose as her mother. She didn’t need anything more than that!
“You’ll pull off salt and pepper fantastically,” Maia assured her. She put her hand over Morrigan’s and squeezed it. “You’ll look a lot better than your mother, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, love,” Morrigan responded. She could’ve made a teasing comeback about it, but she chose to just accept it this time. “I think you’d look even more stunning with a silver streak in your hair.”
“I was thinking of dyeing a streak, actually. Maybe not silver yet.” What colours Maia was thinking of, she’d leave to Morrigan’s imagination. Something wild, and unexpected, most likely. “So, since I’ve been a bad girl, how am I going to get punished?”