Echo was out amongst the swamp reeds, and Morrigan wasn't watching her too closely, either. Not the most attentive parent, perhaps, but the swamps were safer than the cities and she knew that from experience. Besides, the girl needed to learn what was and wasn't safe, and she wouldn't be able to do that if Morrigan hovered.
Okay, so, I want you to rot this fish. She held a fish out towards her lover, freshly caught. Think about it rotting, scales and flesh dripping free, until you hold nothing but bone. Then, before you disintegrate the bones, stop.
'
@Loghain Mac Tir
The warm Antivan breeze rustled through the swamp reeds, carrying with it the scent of the sea and the distant calls of reed warblers. Loghain stood on the balcony of their rented villa, his eyes scanning the horizon, his thoughts consumed by the search for Asha. She had been missing for over a year, and though he had no memory of her, the void in his heart was undeniable. Morrigan had told him everything, and despite the gaps in his memory since she had brought him back from the dead, he was determined to find their daughter.
Their little cottage, nestled far from the bustling city of Antiva, was a peaceful haven surrounded by nature. The gentle chorus of birds and the croaking of frogs created a serene backdrop to his current endeavor. Echo, their youngest, was out exploring the swamp reeds, her laughter occasionally carried on the breeze.
Inside, the room was filled with an air of quiet concentration. Morrigan stood by the table, her presence a grounding force as she guided him through his latest lesson in controlling his newfound magic. A fish lay on the table before him, its silvery scales gleaming in the sunlight that filtered through the open windows.
Focus, right, just focus, He never imagined one day he’d be doing magic, let alone that Morrigan would be teaching him. Though he supposed he had one of the best people to teach him, even if patience definitely wasn’t one of her attributes. So, is this how Flemeth taught you? He was still focusing on the fish, but he felt like maybe if he didn’t focus QUITE so heavily on the fish, maybe he would have a better result.
Loghain took a deep breath, feeling the familiar tingle of magic at his fingertips. It was still strange to him, this power that had come with his second chance at life. He concentrated, willing the decay to begin. Slowly, the fish's flesh began to wither and rot, the smell turning his stomach. He pushed through the discomfort, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the delicate balance Morrigan had described.
Loghain gritted his teeth, sweat forming on his brow. He could feel the magic pulsing, threatening to slip beyond his control. Just as the bones began to emerge, he released his hold, the decay halting just in time. The fish lay before him, skeletal remains surrounded by a mush of decayed flesh.
Morrigan arched a brow at her beloved. No. Mother preferred to train in ways that were far more damaging to ones psyche. Kieran received training similarly. She responded, with a shrug. Though, with Kieran I never put him in danger. And I suppose, Mother never put me in real danger, but she'd certainly allow me to believe it was real. She'd been a better mother marginally, than her own. But her skills lay in teaching, and she recognized each student had a way of learning that would benefit them the most.
And her beloved, needed to do things slowly. She stood next to him, observing silently. Near enough to stop him, if he didn't quite stop himself. But soon, the fish had melted away, flesh peeling and unraveling, muscle following. Then bone remained, and she leaned to whisper, Very good. You might be my most apt student yet.
Loghain’s lips twitched into a faint smile at Morrigan’s praise, though it was a smile edged with frustration. The magic still felt foreign to him, like a blade he hadn’t yet fully mastered. But he was nothing if not determined, and he’d be damned if he let it best him.
Damaging to one’s psyche, you say? he murmured, glancing at Morrigan. Sounds like a bloody effective way to get someone’s attention. He wiped the sweat from his brow, looking down at the decayed remains of the fish. The sight was both grotesque and oddly satisfying. In his previous life, he’d dealt death with steel; now, it seemed, he was learning to do the same with a mere thought.
Loghain’s thoughts drifted briefly to Kieran, their son. He wondered how much of Flemeth’s teachings the boy had inherited, how much of Morrigan’s influence had shaped him. The idea that his children were learning the ways of magic, that they were growing up in a world so different from the one he had known, was both a source of pride and a nagging concern.
He turned his gaze to the swamp where Echo played, her laughter reaching his ears like a balm. Despite everything, she seemed untouched by the weight of their pasts, her innocence a stark contrast to the dark path he and Morrigan had walked. He couldn’t afford to let his failures repeat themselves, not with Echo, not with Kieran. Slipping up once again in his mind, forgetting what a hand he had in raising Asha.
Apt student, am I? he repeated, his tone a mix of dry humor and self-reflection. High praise coming from you, but I’m a long way from mastering this… but I’m getting there. He stepped back from the table, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off the tension that had built up during the exercise.
Flemeth must have been something, he added, more to himself than to Morrigan. The stories he’d heard about the Witch of the Wilds painted a picture of a formidable woman, one who had shaped Morrigan into the powerful, enigmatic force she was today. Loghain respected that—respected strength and the ability to survive in a world that sought to crush the weak.
He turned to Morrigan, his expression serious now. What’s next? I need to be ready, for whatever comes. This power— he flexed his fingers, feeling the residual magic still humming beneath his skin, —it’s not enough to just wield it. I need to control it. Completely.
Loghain’s blue eyes met Morrigan’s, the determination in them clear. He was a warrior, born and bred, but now he was something more, something different. He wasn’t about to let this new path overwhelm him; he would forge it into a weapon, one that would protect his family and help them find Asha.
I’ve always been a quick study when it comes to the battlefield, he continued, his voice low and resolute. This is just another war to win. So, teach me, Morrigan. Teach me what I need to know. He couldn’t help but wonder how much his new power would have come in handy back when he fought against the Orlesian occupation of Ferelden.
Morrigan's lips curled in a wry grin. I wasn't the most attentive student, y'know. Sneaking off to see the village boys... She smirked, chuckling quietly. But generally, Mother believed she needed to prepare me... For what, I can only imagine she was aware I'd leave her side to travel with the Wardens? Flemeth had known things she shouldn't have known. Morrigan learned her mother was rarely wrong about anything.
It made more sense, now. Knowing what they did about the world, about Flemeth herself. But it still made her uneasy to think about for too long. I tried to ensure Kieran could handle his own in case of danger, but would never be in true danger while in my care. And their son was an okay student, though he'd never quite lived up to her high expectations.
And Asha'bellanar... well, she had forced Morrigan to lower her expectations a lot. And she snorted quietly at the thought of the girl; missing and she had no idea where to start looking, and was powerless for the time being.
As long as you don't let your magic eat the house, you're doing great. She responded, to her lover's dry humor. He didn't believe her praise, and she didn't expect him to. He was like an infant, learning to walk for the first time, and she'd only have patience to show him the absolute basics for so long before he met with a crueler side of her that their children had only known.
Mmm, speaking like that reminds me of Flemeth. She believed, you should seek to control, completely. She'd have liked you. Probably, if she didn't eat you for knocking me up, she snorted, drily. But she met his gaze, regarding him quietly.
C'mon. We'll go into the ruins. Because Antiva didn't have much in the way of swamp wastelands. She'd have to take him back home to acquire those kind of conditions.
Loghain took a final look at the decayed fish, a grim satisfaction settling in his chest. As much as he still loathed the unnatural feeling of magic, he couldn’t deny its effectiveness. This was the edge he’d been missing for far too long.
Into the ruins, then, he said, rolling his shoulders. There was no time to waste—he couldn’t afford the luxury of hesitation. Morrigan’s wry humor was lost on him, but her praise, faint as it was, had registered. She wouldn’t throw empty words at him, and he appreciated her frankness.
His mind drifted to Flemeth, the myth and the reality, the mysterious specter that had shaped Morrigan. If Flemeth thought control was the highest goal, then it must have been for good reason, he muttered. I can respect that. Mastery, or nothing.
Loghain’s gaze turned toward the swamp, where Echo’s laughter echoed through the reeds. For now, at least, their daughter was safe. But he knew firsthand how quickly things could turn. He’d sharpen this power, mold it into something dependable—something that wouldn’t betray him when it counted.
With one last glance at Morrigan, he nodded. Lead the way.
