#baby will eventually be a force mage spec

[ramblinganthropologist]

Aftermath

Summary: After an adventure with a dragon, Kaaras has a headache. Here comes Dorian to make it worse. Damn it, you think he’d take “I’m not a mage” for an answer...

---

It was a lovely day and he wanted to stop existing.

“You’re shitting me, I missed him taking the dragon out?”

Iron Bull’s voice boomed over the tavern and rang in Kaaras’ ears. Normally, he didn’t like going to the Herald’s Rest. When it came down to it, he wasn’t a fan of noise. Plus, the place smelled like spilled booze. That was another reason he tried to avoid it at all costs. Unfortunately for him, he hadn’t had a choice in the matter that time. Once the Qunari had spotted him, all bets had been off – in he went, tugged by his favorite in-law to be without much chance of protest.

Thus he found himself at a table with the rest of the Chargers, a mug of mead in hand and a head poised on a migraine. Bull had recovered remarkably well after his encounter with the dragon – he didn’t even have any scars. No doubt he was disappointed about that. He often said the scars made him look even more badass. Unfortunately for him, first aid had been one of the trainings he had failed the least at.

He had still failed, mind you, but not as bad as he had failed at being a hunter’s apprentice. He still had nightmares about that.

“Yeah, it was pretty sick to see him throw the bomb into its eye socket like that.” Jackel was perched on top of a seat, the better to observe and to be closer to her lover. She too had a mug, though smaller than his. She could do a lot, but they definitely had different abilities to drink. Still, she could hold her own.

So… that was what they were going with. Good to know.

Kaaras allowed a careful sip as Rocky’s appreciative eyes found him, and he nodded back. Sometimes, he forgot his cover story. Sure, he knew explosives better than anyone in Clan Lavellan and had been the sapper of Valo Kas before winding up Inquisitor, but it had all started as a story. After all, if things exploded around him, it was a good excuse.

People didn’t need to know the real reason.

“You’d have to be insane to throw a bomb into a dragon’s skull.” The dwarf nodded towards him. “What’d you use, Adaar?”

The whole table groaned – probably because they were expecting a tech talk between two demolition nerds. They weren’t the only one – Kaaras paused as his mind scrambled. What had he kept in his pouch that day? Would it have been enough to blow things up? Would it even blow up in the combo he suggested? Would -

“I believe it was something small that packed quite a punch. At least, it looked that way to me when he threw it.”

A new voice made his ears pick up. Kaaras’ heart jumped to his throat as he saw Dorian approach at an easy enough pace. For a split second, he relaxed – but then he saw the man’s eyes. There was a question there, one that he didn’t want to answer.

He wouldn’t try it in the tavern, would he? He had more tact than that…

Jackel’s form stiffened as she watched him make his way over to the table. Her knuckles were white around the handle of her mug, either to keep herself from throwing it at him or stabbing him when nobody was watching. At least she paused to take a drink – hopefully she wouldn’t spit it at him as a distraction.

“Well, looks like the staff nerd pulled through.”

Her words held daggers in them, and the look in her eyes promised they’d never find the body if he said the wrong thing. Kaaras had seen the look countless times, and even witnessed the after effects. She was… creative.

He liked Dorian, but… well, he might have to agree with his cousin.

If Dorian picked out the meaning, he didn’t mind. He just smiled in that way that made Kaaras’ stomach churn horribly. “Yes, the healers here are quite advanced. I see they managed to get Bull back to working order as well. Too bad they didn’t leave any scars, no?”

“Yeah, they’re a little too good.” There was a hint of a sulk in the Qunari’s voice, but he lightened up. “You here for a drink, Pavus? We could find a place at the table for you, looks like the boss has some space by him.”

An appreciative low chuckle rumbled through the Chargers. Like their boss, they weren’t blind – they saw how he and Dorian interacted. No doubt they all thought they were doing him a favor, maybe they considered it a way to work a bet to their pocket’s advantage. Unfortunately for them, Kaaras wasn’t in the mood. His heart was pounding way too fast for that as he swallowed down the rest of his drink.

It was a bad idea – there was a reason he didn’t drink much. Immediately, his head began to pound. His tongue loosened, he groaned slightly and held around the area of his left horn. Looks like he was getting that headache after all.

“You don’t look too good, Kaaras.” Dorian’s voice was soft as he extended his hand. “I can walk you back to your quarters if you want.”

He wanted to say no, but the headache lowered his ambitions. In the end, he pushed away from the table and made his way over to the mage. His ears burned at the sound of a wolf whistle from one of the Chargers – or maybe it was Sera? It sounded far away – but he ignored that in favor of leaving the Herald’s Rest behind.

Outside, it was quieter, and a cool mountain breeze blew through the open space between the tavern and Skyhold proper. Apart from the distant noise of plate mail clinking in the distance from a guard on patrol, it was quiet. His head was glad for it as he sidled along, keeping his eye on the ground.

“You really don’t handle your drink well, Kaaras.” Dorian’s voice was soft as they started up the stairs to his quarters. “I guess you didn’t drink a lot when you were a mercenary.”

Kaaras risked a shake of his head – at least it didn’t make things worse. “No, I don’t like how it makes my head feel. I need to keep my wits about me anyway.”

Control was part of his cover too – if it slipped, bad things happened. He had learned that well enough over the years.

“A respectable line of thought.” They entered his quarters and Kaaras found the bed. Dorian stood by the desk, giving them space to breathe. “Though… I believe you know I had ulterior motives to walking you back.”

Of course.

Kaaras felt his stomach shift, and it wasn’t from the booze. The events of a few days prior flashed through his mind – the dragon, Dorian’s staff, and the energy that coursed through his veins as he aimed a clumsy spell at its head. If not for the mage’s proper barrier, they would’ve been hurt.

After all… he wasn’t a mage. He just had a few special effects.

“Jackel’s story about the bomb was inspired. No doubt she’s telling Rocky what kind now.” Dorian frowned. “I don’t understand why she lies about it, though. I thought the Dalish admired mages.”

He winced despite himself. “We do, they’re our leaders.”

“Does that mean you’re going to lead your clan one day, or does that honor go to your brother?” The man cocked his head to the side. “Why hide your magic, though? It isn’t as though you’re Andrastian like the rest here.”

Kaaras’ heart was pounding so hard he was sure his binder was the only thing keeping it in. Right then, all he wanted to do was run away and hide. This was something that never ended well for him to say the least.

Ataashi had never spoken to him again after he’d found out…

His mouth was dry as he tried to speak. “I’m not a mage, Dorian.”

“Kaaras, I know walking bomb when I feel it.” His eyes were sharp. “I felt your energy on my staff.”

Fuck.

There was no way out of this – Dorian was near the exit. The balcony led to the mountains – he’d definitely die if he jumped. No doubt the man would’ve stopped him anyway if he had tried, and even with the size difference he’d probably be successful.

So he was trapped.

“Kaaras?”

The qunari’s shoulders sagged as his strength left him. He felt his weight sink into the bed, as if he weighed a thousand pounds. Time had slowed in that moment, as if the entire world had stopped spinning.

This was why he tried not to develop feelings for people. It always ended badly.

“I… look, there’s five mages in clan Lavellan. We have enough.” He swallowed hard, as if he was trying to get down ground glass. “I’m just… an oddity, I guess.”

Oddity – that was the best way to put it. After all, he had been nearly 17 when he’d first had that disastrous blast of magic. Mages developed long before that – his brother certainly had. By the time they were his age, they had control. They were proper spellcasters, not idiots with a bit of strange energy that set things on fire by mistake.

He needed to remind himself of that more often.

Kaaras shrugged and regretted it as his head ached. “I worked with my Uncle Boralas. Neither of us are mages, but he knows how to keep accidents from happening around explosives. Along the way he taught me demolition.”

Why he was using Uncle Bori’s full name, he wasn’t sure – it felt odd on his tongue. Maybe it was how serious the moment felt.

“The Chantry isn’t going to be thrilled to hear the Dalish know their way around explosives.” Dorian’s tone was hard to pick out, but he didn’t sound too annoyed by the prospect – maybe it was due to him being from Tevinter? – but he wasn’t finished. “But… that was magic, Kaaras. You might deny it, but only a mage can use a staff like that.”

He could still remember how it had felt clutched in his hand, how the grain of the wood had dug into his palm, calling for his meager energy. It was like the call of the void, only stronger as it pulled him into oblivion. Wordlessly, it had screamed to him – use me.

It was hard to ignore, even now. But he had to – the alternative was far too dangerous to even consider. So he pushed it down, back to where it stewed, hopefully to stay put this time. The last thing he needed was for it to come out again.

“I’m just strange, Dorian, there’s nothing more to it.” He did his best to offer a fake smile, but even he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. “Besides, could you imagine the reaction if it were true? It’s bad enough I’m half qunari, how would the Chantry react that their Herald was a Dalish mage?”

Heads would roll, possibly literally. As much as he would’ve wanted to see it happen… reality was another story.

Dorian frowned a little, but in the end he sighed. “I suppose that is true.  You are on a bit of thin ice with the faithful.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Kaaras allowed a snort of self-depreciating mirth, which only made his head throb. “Oww… shouldn’t have done that.”

Next to him, the mage shifted and allowed him to lay back. “I’m going to guess that’s not a preemptive hangover brewing there.”

Another shake only made his head hurt worse, but he did it. “No, it’s been brewing since we got back. I should probably try to sleep it off, I’m no good to anyone like this.”

Or in general usually… but he wasn’t going to say that. He had learned from his time in Valo-Kas that people didn’t like when he talked about himself like that. They got weird looks on their faces and he usually got a lecture after.

At least Dorian turned to allow him to shrug out of his binder and crawl back under the blanket. Much to his relief, the mage dimmed the magelight hanging by his bed, allowing him some comforting darkness to sleep in. With the whistle of the wind outside, it was almost comfortable.

Almost, as long as you ignored the pounding in his head and the fact Dorian knew now.

“Sleep well, Kaaras. If you need me…” he hesitated, and from the sound of things he was by the stairs. “You can find me in the library. Your brother’s pulled ahead in his reading and I cannot let that stand unchallenged.”

He would have laughed, but his head hurt. Instead, Kaaras felt his eyes close as he did his best to sleep off the headache blooming behind his eyes. At least like this, he didn’t have to worry about what was going on or anything other than the pain. For once, he welcome that as he slipped away into a dream. He needed that much.

---

The next time Kaaras was conscious, the sun had shifted behind the mountains and the sky had gone dark. From his window, he could see part of June’s Hammer if he squinted – though that was mostly from memory. After all, he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

Yawning, he sat up. His head still hurt, but it wasn’t to meltdown levels. Like this, he could get work done if need be. And oh, did he ever – after all, he was technically leading a holy army of Andrastians.

That alone was a headache, but he pushed it aside in favor of glancing around.

Like Dorian had said, he had left to go battle his brother in the library over who had finished what book first. It was a stupid competition, but it kept them busy, and their head librarian didn’t mind digging out the rare volumes to sate their spiteful curiosity. If they found out something useful, all the better. He just hoped they kept their gloating quiet – they tended to bother the other people in the library.

“Maybe I’ll go see how he’s doing.” Kaaras bent down to grab his binder, but paused as he glanced across the room. Even in the darkness, he could see there was something there, propped against his desk and waiting for him. “What’s that?”

Curious, he left his binder on the floor and padded across the room. Just like he thought, there was something set there for him. His heart leapt straight to his throat as he picked out the details, wondering if this was just some bad dream.

But no. It was a long piece of wood with metal fittings and a dark purple stone on top.  Even worse, it came with a note.

“Dorian, I swear to the Creators…” Kaaras’ fingers trembled as he untied the note from the staff, the light brush enough to cause tingles up his spine. Unsurprisingly, the note was in the man’s neat handwriting, and even in the dark he could read it.

Kaaras,

Forgive me for my insistence. I said the staff was for your brother when I got it, something about him breaking his, so there’s no need to worry about others finding out.

While I don’t understand, I felt enough power that day to know you need proper training. I found a book from the library that should help you, but if you need further insistence we can work something out. You can find me in the library.

-        Dorian

Despite everything, Kaaras grit his teeth as he glanced down at the book and staff waiting for him. He might have liked the man, but Dorian was pissing him off in the moment. Right then, he wanted nothing more than to throw both off the balcony and forget it had ever happened.

But he didn’t. After all, it was a library book. Trevy would want it back unharmed. She’d get it tomorrow – he’d think of an excuse as to why he had it later.

“I guess I should have explained better.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t have any need of these, I’m not a mage…”

It was easy to say with the years of practice behind it. He could almost believe it most days. But that was the thing about his little accidents – the chance of them happening again after a dry spell went up if he was annoyed. And oh, was he. Maybe that was why he wasn’t too surprised when the paper in his hands caught fire, bringing light to the dark room.

At least he had the sense to throw this in the fireplace before it burned anything, his hands included.

“Elgar’nan’s balls…” Kaaras shook his head as he picked up the staff and tucked it out of sight, far in the back of a closet where he wouldn’t have to look at it. If anyone asked, it was his brother’s. “Maybe I should just stay in until I calm down… can’t have any more accidents.”

The tingle still dancing under his skin was proof of that as he sat back down on his bed to breathe and remember what his uncle had taught him. As much as he trained, he would always have to risk accidents.

Maybe it would’ve been easier if he was actually a mage – but then again, that probably would’ve made his job harder. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place…