#magicofseheron

It’s blood magic! Don’t let him fool you! No one can look that perfect w/o blood magic.

Aetius VC: Of course I’m allowed! (why wouldn’t I be?)

“And when have I ever done what I should?” Aetius paused with a pained smile. Even seated at his desk it seemed he was uncomfortable. And yet it was clear that anyone, even Haleir, would need to take pains, to fight, to get the man to follow healer’s instructions. He was stubborn, and too used to doing everything on his own. Fine traits in the Magisterium perhaps, but inconvenient just now. “Are you going to drag me back to my bed by my ear?” 

“If I must.” The pale Keeper’s answer came without hesitation. “That would certainly be a sight to see, would it not?” Like clockwork he had appeared in the doorway to Aetius’ quarters, arms laden with a tray of food and medicine and a perturbed twist on his full lips. He didn’t wait for permission to enter, setting his burden down on the Magister’s desk and carefully moving a short stack of books off to the side to make room for his kit.

Aetius bit his tongue, doing his best not to let out the hiss of pain that wanted to escape. His wound wasn’t life threatening itself, not really, just a flesh wound on his side, but even so it was certainly unpleasant. Even more so when the elf applied a poultice of elfroot and spindleweed to sterilize it and reduce the swelling.

“I… really this isn’t nece— Kaffas!” The Magister’s words cut off with a curse as the slender little hand pressed the poultice tighter… proving of course that it was indeed necessary.

With a sigh of resignation, he frowned, but remained seated, managing an almost not-begrudging “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” came the Keeper’s reply, pale eyes still focused on the task at hand. “Careful, that may sting a little.”

Haleir might not have been capable of much in the way of healing by magic, but to his credit, his skills as a field surgeon came bolstered by only shining testimony from the vast majority of his patients...to say nothing of his vigilant bedside manner.

Righting himself, he turned to a small table within arm’s reach and began pulling rolls of clean bandages from an open satchel, setting them out ahead of time. The poultice still needed to do its work, but afterward the wound would require proper dressing.

The Magister at least had the good grace to look sheepish. “Ah - I apologize. I’ll admit that I found myself a bit… perplexed with you. You’re quite unlike other elves I’ve met, either Dalish or city elf.” A small smile curls full lips, “I do not mean it to be an insult. There’s a pride in being an individual.” 

That smile mirrors itself at the corner of his own lips, settling lopsided in mild amusement.

She was...not quite expecting that. They had been definitely spending more and more time together; but not in the way one would expect. First it was just teaching her how to control her magic further. Then it was teaching her how to speak Tevenae. And now they just spent the majority of their time in a little reading nook on the upper level of the library. But, today was a less serious day. She had found a book of poetry on her last visit to Val Royeaux, and he was more than happy to sit and listen to her recite poem after poem (ones she thought were truly beautiful). When she was having trouble reading a few stanzas or even pronouncing a word, he had slowly slid his way from being on his pillow to resting his head in her lap. It was not unwelcome, so she made no movement to push him away.

But, before long, she had noticed him growing quiet. And for a long moment, she was quiet as well. Had he truly fallen asleep? She gave a bright smile and gently let her fingers trail along his trusses, smoothing some back as she leaned back against the wall of their little nook, her hand on his shoulder until he needed to flip a page.

“I can concede that point,” Aetius admitted, “For all the great things I’ve seen humanity capable of, we are guilty of the worst in nearly equal measure. Perhaps it’s different for some, but for me… the great things make it worth going on. There’s goodness in the world that’s worth working for, worth fighting for, worth dying for.” 

@magicofseheron | crimson peak starters | selectively accepting 

❝One we are all guilty of, ❞ he said, expression more serious than most were likely used to. ❝And one we will all one day pay for.❞

He was exhausted, and the state of the world only seemed to be worsening if their information was accurate. Most knew the newly appointed Inquisitor was not fond of an aggressive approach; unfortunately, it seemed they were running out of options.