They’d been trailing the informant through the winding alleys and taverns of Lowtown all evening. This Thalo fella was annoyingly cautious and a rat, earning him the favor of the C rescinding his services. Meg had never met him, which was why she’d been picked to go along with a green fledgling and Danny. Nairn was lurking, somewhere nearby and while Thalo had been an inconvenience, the night had settled into an easy rhythm, working together in quiet tandem as they followed. Her magic softened their footsteps along the cobbles while Nairn guided them with signs, a moved sign here, a scratched mark on the streets corner.
When he did wait for them, his instructions were straightforward and Meg found something refreshing about his silent professionalism. Thalo had led them deeper into the city, down into Darktown into the maze of old mining tunnels. She was about to cast another subtle cloaking ward behind them when she caught his lingering, knowing look. Her smile flashed wider at him, fingers wiggled in silent query, staying the spell until he gave her an affirming nod or not. The less noise the better chance they had at catching the mouthy fool and they could all grab a well deserved pint sooner. But she didn’t say that, only thought it.
The deeper they wandered down the tunnel the thicker the air smelt of sulfur and oil, causing Meg’s stride to pause. Her voice was a soft whisper, eyes now searching the tunnels edges and connecting chambers for anything amiss, Tell me, I’m not the only one who smells explosives?
She’d stall the young lad with them from going too far ahead of her, pulling him back by the hood of his coat. Just hang back a sec, kiddo…
Nairn was a shadow; he melted easily into the background, with practice. People tended to run, when they realized he was on their tail, so it was better they never realize. It wasn't like he wanted the glory of recognition, either.
They were deep in a tunnel, when she whispered something about explosives. She was right, and one wrong move, one wrong spark of energy, could set the place off. He slipped from his place against the wall of the tunnel, Danny falling in-line with him.
The two scouted ahead, while Megara pulled the fledgling back, holding him off from joining them. It seemed safe enough, though, so Nairn moved forward, and Danny waved the rest of their party to join up with him.
After a few minutes, they heard the sound of a match striking, and Nairn snarled a curse, shoving Megara back against the wall, while Danny did the same for the fledgling. They were too close—
The tunnel shook with the force of the explosion. Nairn braced himself against the wall, expecting pain—he was familiar with using himself as a shield, and this time was no different. Except, the pain he was expecting never came.
At Danny’s signal, Meg released the boy’s hood, and they both slipped forward, carefully rejoining the others in their quiet pursuit. The smell of sulphur thickened the further in they went, a rancid, overwhelming odour. Just as Meg reached up to cover her nose, Nairn shoved her back against the wall, hard. Her vision flickered, and in that instant, she saw it. The red, searing wave of fire hurtling toward them down the tunnel, advancing too fast for anyone to outrun.
With only seconds to act, Meg pushed off the wall, launching herself straight into the path of the oncoming blaze. With a swift motion of her hands, she conjured a shield, planting her feet firmly and bracing herself. The fire crashed into the barrier, and Meg grunted from the impact, the pressure of the flames pushing her back. But she held her ground, forcing more of her magic into the shield, the energy shimmering across its surface, sealing off nearly all escape for the searing heat and smoke.
I... I got it… Meg gritted out, shifting her stance, focusing on maintaining the shield. Just… gimme minute… She took a deep breath, reaching deeper into the earth around her, drawing out the water held within the soil and stone. ...and one of you can kill this fucker… Something ahead gave a sharp ‘pop,’ and slowly, the thunderous roar of the inferno lessened, dying down to a hiss, punctuated by droplets trickling from above.
Finally, her hands dropped, and the last threads of magic faded with the shield, leaving the blackened tunnel, now damp and charred, revealed before them. Meg staggered forward, sinking to one knee as she caught her breath, relieved to be unburned. Her breath came in shallow, controlled gasps as she steadied herself, keeping her face as calm as she could manage.
Eventually Meg peered over her shoulder, gaze flickering between the fledgliing, Danny and then on Nairn. Sorry. I dunno about you though, but I didn’t agree to become toast on this job. You all ok?
Nairn cursed quietly, when Megara threw herself into the direct path of the flames — but before he could yank her back, hand outstretched to grab her shoulder, she was warding against it. And slowly, his hand lowered, falling back to his side. Instead, he turned to talk to Danny, murmuring softly. Pin the fucker to the wall. Set the scene.
Before she'd finished warding, Danny was giving the fledgling quiet instructions, and Nairn had moved to flash the mage a lazy grin. Knew I liked you, Daley. She was kneeling on the ground, as Danny and their shadow passed by.
He watched, for a moment, before he dropped to a knee beside her. Even Danny 'bout pissed himself, but you... He smirked, and offered her a hand. ...ran right at it. Takes guts, and arrogance. And a little bit of magic.
If she took his hand, he'd stand, pulling her with him. You got the stomach for an execution? He inquired, tilting his head to one side, 'cause I wouldn't mind an audience. They'd brought healing potions, too. Minor ones, that would keep someone alive while they were tortured beyond what their body could handle.
He'd release her hand, and leave her to decide for herself, if she'd come or stay back. Hands in his pockets, he made his way forward, boots crunching against ash, in silence. Danny and the boy had pinned Thalo, quite delicately, to the wall using small magic stakes, that would immobilize him for a period of time.
Nairn paused, forcibly scuffing his boot against ash, humming. Danny began to read from a short list of 'crimes' against the Coterie, as if he were a guard, reading a citizen their rights prior to arrest.
The ward held and as the pressure died down she could see Nairn approach her out of the corner of her eye. The remark brought a flash of a reflecting grin, he what?, but then it tempered again into a concentrating line until they were all finally safe. Meg’s breath was laboured and she leaned on her knee, offered Nairn only a short laugh when he cracked on about Danny.
Can’t have that. she’d shake her head. He’ll never get a girl if that gets out. Snickering, she’d take his hand but underestimating his strength or her fatigue caused the elf to stumble a step or two forwards, knocking a shoulder against Nairn’s. Um… maybe a bit more than a little. Phew, everyone’s ok tho’ that’s what matters.
His hand felt nice. Warmer than she’d expected, then suddenly the heat was gone and her hand found its way behind her, fingers tingling.
An execution though? A conflict began within her. Thalo was guilty, there was no doubt, yet she was not usually stirred by the more macabre acts. Yet the way Nairn’s head tilted had her suddenly considering it. Um… she started, chewing her lip, before offering an affirming nod. I’m def’ gonna punch him for nearly making us barbeque, but um… maybe… maybe another time. Her role was to keep Thalo alive long enough that he’d answer all of Nairn’s questions and hear the crimes credited to the fool.
Walking into their captives' view, Meg’s blood suddenly boiled at the site. Not of Thalo being staked, but to the sheer audacity of exploding something in Darktown, of all places. Who in their right mind hooked up explosives in an unstable mine? The fall out could have been catastrophic and with purpose Megara marched over to give a right hook that echoed off the walls. Fucker! You fucking stupid could’a killed us all not just us five.
Add nearly causing a landslide into the rest of the City, Danny. Ass could’a killed a lot more than us. glaring, she’d punch him again for good measure, moving away to shake the pain away. I’mma smoke… just call me if he tries to croak out early.
He'd expected the woman to balk at the idea of witnessing the rat's death. But what he did not expect was, for her to waltz up to the rat and punch him. Twice. His face remained impassive, as he reached to pull his mask up over his mouth. He shrugged at Danny, who repeated what the healer asked him to add to the list, aloud.
Fledg, he was addressing the boy. Guard duty. Watch the healer.
The boy frowned, and glanced toward the rat, and then back to the healer. "She don't need m-"
He was cut off, as Nairn pulled him two steps forward, gripping the boys chin. Nah, she don't need ya. But what happens if there's more than one assailaint in those shadows, kid? You want her next to you. He growled, shoving the boy backwards.
The fledgling scampered after Megara, and Nairn shook his head. So...
A series of questions were asked; and when Nairn didn't hear what he wanted, Danny broke a bone. Eventually, they made headway, and when a question was answered with what Nairn thought to be a lie, Danny'd torture the man. Delicate, enough so that they didn't have to call the healer back.
By the time it was ending, Nairn whistled, calling the fledgling back over. Danny was yanking the stakes out of the wall. The rat hit the ground, on all fours, and Nairn let a lazy grin cross his features. A'ight, Fledg. He gets a three minute headstart.
The fledgling looked startled; and Nairn stepped away, waving the mans questions off. The rat, was already on his feet, rushing as fast as he could, past the healer. Danny'll see to it, Fledg. Better keep him in your sights.
He'd turned it into a cat and mouse game, for the fledgling to prove himself. Nairn sidled up next to the healer, in silence for a moment, as their fledgling friend rushed past them. Danny, however, walked. Quickly, but not panicked like the fledgling had.
Let's take the scenic route home. Nairn's hands settled in his pockets, and as he started back the way they'd come, he spoke up, Who taught you to punch?
Death came for them all, but Megara felt the deserving had it coming sooner. Especially with Nairn on their tail. Thalo had just made the mistake of making it more personal for the she-elf by almost roasting them and potentially causing further harm to innocent bystanders. Selfish prick.
She walked away, her right hand splaying out fingers and retracting them as magic soothed the bruises before they had time to form. The other fished out her pipe and the elf would linger, facing outwards and smoking until the fledgling joined her. She’d not offer him a draw, not on the job and not knowing if he could handle it either. Now and again her head would tilt as a non-answer caused more pain and anguish.
Suffer, you gutless bastard.
When his bonds were cut and he bolted though, Megara couldn’t resist the final kick to the back of his knee on the way out. He got within her reach and the opportunity was too good for her to miss, sending him sprawling, scuttling about the ground until managing to get to his feet again. Yeah! You try and run. G’on kid, you’re up. She’d lean heavily against the wall, chest drawing in a deeper draw, but nothing was abating the fatigue settling in her bones. That ward had taken far more stamina than anticipated.
His scent reached her before his presence next to her. A comforting contrast to the smell of charred wood and stone. When his voice rumbled quietly, asking her about the smackdown, Megara smiled, shyly at first, fluttering into some mild pride. Um… Bertie gave me some pointers. Like, where to plant my feet, which she shifted into, standing in front of him. How my elbow needs to be at this level, where the power needs to be in the swing… She mocked a slow moving jab, nowhere near his face or person, but enough for him to understand she knew how. On the fake impact her palm splayed open and Meg pulled it backwards, mouth and vocals mimicking the sounds of an explosion.
On second thoughts, how about no more bangs… I dunno if could handle another one. Scenic is nice, but I… dunno if I’m up to a long walk. There was a dinging, or a clanging, some sort of noise building pressure in her head. Too much magic?
Nairn hummed, as she showed him what Bertie had taught her. But you bruised your hand? We'll have to work on that. He'd noticed how she'd shaken her hand, trying to shoo pain away with the motion. Gotta hit 'em in the sofer spots, or if you're hitting them head-on, use the heel, he tapped the heel of his hand.
Megara declined the scenic route, citing she was tired, and he hummed at her, for a moment. Studying her, silently. But very clearly studying her. C'mon, then. He knelt down, Long as you can hold onto me, we'll be alright on the scenic. Besides, it was really all scenic at this point. Darktown was a good walk from any Coterie safe-house.
Mmm. We got enough. Gonna have to report to Bertie when we get back, he'll wanna know how you did. And Fledg. He didn't know the fledgling's name, didn't bother learning if they weren't being raised up into the C, they had to prove themselves to earn their name.
Only person who had worth in Nairn's eyes from the moment they'd met, was Megara.
Probably because they'd met when he needed a healer.
A light flush spread across her cheeks at the observation. Meg glanced at the hand, offering a shrug, Well, yeah, but it’s not so bad. Some things are worth a bit of pain over. Then she realised what else he’d said. We’ll have to work on that. We. She was settling. Being...accepted. It warmed her heart in a way she hadn’t entertained in a long time. Well, I’m grateful for the help. Can’t always rely on my magic, can’t be sure who’ll see.
It was disappointing for herself to decline, but then he was kneeling and asking her to hop on. What? Oh. Um… okay, if you’re sure. Of course he was. Nairn didn’t do anything without thinking about it. I can hold on, yep. Legs tucked tentatively around his middle while her arms looped around his neck, pressing into his collarbone so as not to strangle him. Immediately her senses were assaulted by the scent of sandalwood, the rich woody scent held a warmth to it that enveloped her. Safe. Even as far as they were from the safehouse, she was safe… but who was keeping him safe.
I have to stay awake.
I’m glad you got something. And all Bertie will want to hear is I didn’t die. Big old 'Bertie the Softie' is more concerned about the kid than me, don’t be silly saying he’s testing me. She was teasing, chuckling behind him. You ask him when you see him. Ask him. Ask him about the day we met. Bet he’ll change his tune real quick She snickered, that story had been a secret between the two ever since Megara’s first night in the C’s mess.
”Elf saved my life. All you need to know. She’s one of the new healers. Don’t fuck with her either, or it’ll be my boot up your arses.” And that had been enough for most.
More like… ‘ohfuckohfuck I hope this holds. She shrugged. Her ear pressed against the back of his neck as she settled into the pace of his walk. No-ones more surprised we’re alive than me. Don’t think I could pull off a melted face…
Nairn chuckled, and as she settled on his back, he'd slip his hands to hold her legs, keeping her in place as he straightened and began walking. Bertie's been trying to partner me up for decades, Daley. Nairn's voice was quiet, as he replied.
Gives me a partner, every now-and-then. Never liked 'em. Danny's as close as he's come, but for my kinda work, you really need to be paired up with a healer. He adjusted her on his back, and walked. Slowly, steadily. Ignoring glances, gawking stares, quiet whispers. Though not really; he noted each, but that was all.
My kinda work is... solitary. Most healers annoy me, too. He snorted, and drifted into quiet as he walked. She had settled against him, relaxed. She felt safe, and it reminded him of their first time around Kirkwall; showing her his favorite places.
She was dimly aware of their journey along the way towards the safehouse. Between his scent and voice she was being lulled further into both succumbing to the wave of exhaustion and fighting every inch to hear him talk more.
Well. I don’t believe it. I can be annoying though…. I think everyone just gets disarmed by my smile? At least that’s what Linneh says… Linneh was another, less liked Coterie healer, but her brewing only bested Megara’s in quantity, dedicating her time to upkeeping the Coterie supply. Megara surmised that people would perhaps respond better if she was less overbearing, and so the conversation had come about.
Healing… takes all sorts. Some of us are cranky and solitary, like Ruth and Linneh. Others like working together, but we still butt heads… Her mind drifted, and she’d pinch her eyes closed tightly and reopen them in an attempt to focus. How long had they been walking? Megara felt her body becoming heavier with each step, but forced herself to maintain awareness of their surroundings, even as the clanging in her head continued to build in volume and pressure.
When they finally arrived at the safehouse, Meg limply righted herself as Nairn set her down for about three minutes before she finally succumbed. She was wobbly in those three minutes, though upright until at the last twenty seconds when she altered those around them.
Everyone lived. Well, not everyone. No one was cooked. No catas… catastrophe happened… and now someone better catch me before I crac- k, my skull off the floor, came out as a puffed jumble of words before she blacked out completely.
Linneh don't like me, then, I don't like Linneh. Nairn stated, adjusting her again, an attempt to keep his hands awake. She was talking less, now, and he was walking faster. Might be that the healer needed a healer of her own.
They'd made it to the safehouse, and he knelt to settle her onto her feet, watching her wobble and sway. He stayed close, and swept her into his arms when she dropped.
Let's get the Daley a healer. He encouraged the safehouse proprietress. And have 'em clean her up, I'll take her to the main house through the tunnels after. He stood there, staring at the woman in his arms, silently.
Eventually, a pair of healers slipped up from a panel in the floor, Bertie had sent a note with them. Nairn tore the note up, after reading it, and tossed it into the fires. He'd handed Megara off by then, they'd taken her back to another room to clean her up, check her injuries.
Then the healers reported to the stoic man; none of that friendly nature remained once they'd entered the safehouse. "She might be concussed—but mostly it feels like she exhausted herself with her magic. Did she do a lot?" He gave an absent nod.
"That'd do it. Proprietress said you'll be taking her through the tunnels? We'll wrap her in a blanket, so she won't get cold." The woman scurried away, to prepare the Dalish healer.
A few minutes later, Nairn had a short list of symptoms to watch out for, non-magical and magical, and what to do if he noted them tucked into his pocket. And the girl tucked into a blanket, in his arms. The tunnels were dark and damp, and he quietly cursed the chill as he moved through them.
It isn't her room that he takes her too, though. Arriving at his room first, he opted to settle her down there. They'd put her in some soft linen pajamas, and sent her clothes to the wash. Nairn got her settled, and sighed, as he propped himself upright, fully dressed (though he'd taken his boots off, he's not a monster).
After a while, deciding she wasn't going to wake up while he was showering, he disappeared into the bathroom. A quick shower, dark hair pulled back out of his face, shirtless, and in a pair of soft pajama bottoms, he settled back on the bed next to her.
Adjusting the blankets around her, he'd stay propped up, at some point slipping under the blankets. He didn't mean to fall asleep — but he did; eventually he was side-by-side with the elven woman, back facing away from her as he slept.
Megara’s consciousness flickered in and out, the remnants of her drained mana swirling like faint, fading embers within her. She could sense the edges of her exhaustion in the way her mana felt hollowed out, leaving her vulnerable, fragile. There was still enough to keep her safe from possession, but barely. Her magic, normally a constant, reassuring hum within her, was all but silent now. Just... drained, like an overdrawn well, utterly reliant on whatever safety she could find in the world around her.
For most of it, she was dimly aware of things happening around her—a sense of hands lifting her, shifting her weight, cool linens wrapping her, voices murmuring too softly to make out. When she felt herself in Nairn’s arms, though, the noise and clatter faded. She was safe there; in his hold, the tension that clung to her like cobwebs melted, even in her unconscious state. It was his scent. A grounding scent that pulled her back from the edge of consciousness, where she hovered unsteadily. Nairn was here. And that was all she needed to know. He hadn’t let her go, hadn’t even thought of it, and that steadied her more than she would admit.
The world was hazy, sounds muffled, voices slipping in and out, unfamiliar hands now took her shoulders, and the sensation of damp cloths and new clothes followed by a blanket wrapped around her, hummed on the edges. Yet, she was removed from him, from that familiar scent of wood, smoke and leather, and grew restless, agitated, her body instinctively reaching for him as her consciousness drifted further away. Eventually, she’d feel him close again, arms under her, that warm, creamy scent wrapping around her as surely as the blankets, and Meg gave in, relaxed completely, letting him carry her wherever he pleased.
Time slipped by unmarked, the heavy fog of her exhaustion letting her drift in and out. When she finally shifted closer, her fingers sought him out instinctively. She didn’t fully wake, didn’t quite understand what she was doing as her hand brushed against his hair. Half believing she was merely dreaming. This was just a dream.
The dark, soft strands curled through her fingers, grounding her in the warmth his presence brought. As she twisted the ends of his hair gently, rhythmically, she sank further into the comfort his nearness gave her. Like a tether holding her in place as she lingered between waking and sleep.
Finally, the soft rise and fall of his breathing under the blankets beside her coaxed her awake. She leaned heavily against his back, curling instinctively closer, though the strength to do anything more wasn’t quite there. She let her head rest against him, her hand still rolling the dark strands softly through her fingers as she took in the soothing warmth of him, feeling the weariness starting to lift, just slightly.
After a long, slow exhale, she whispered, half to herself, voice thick with exhaustion, ...I guess I overdid it… guess you feel smug, ‘cos you were right. I overachieved… There was a light quiet chuckle that followed. ... Thank you… for looking after me, this time.
The moment she moved, her fingers in his hair, he was awake. Even though his eyes stayed closed, and he feigned sleep for another few moments; long enough to hear her whispering. He sighed, more of a huff, really, Not smug at all, Daley. Worried. You were s'posed to be in the'firmary, but they wouldn't let me stay there. A lie, though she wouldn't know that. They'd recommended she go to the infirmary, but he hadn't bothered.
He didn't know if they'd really have sent him away. Skipped meeting Bertie last night, t'keep an eye on you, he murmured, shifting carefully, aware of her fingers in his hair. He propped himself up against the backboard, blue eyes studying her.
You overdid it. You can't do that again. Not if you're coming back out with me. He stated, leaning towards her, to murmur, So, we better discuss contingencies. He'd told her last night, he didn't like taking partners. That he never kept them past the first mission.
And even though he'd had to carry her on his back to a safehouse, she'd garnered more respect from him. Not to mention, it might actually be useful to have a healer he'd let touch him, on missions.
Nairn reached out to tug a strand of her hair, You're gonna make the rest of the girls jealous, Daley. I don't bring people to my rooms. He didn't take up with anyone either; save for a singular prostitute in one of the brothels. But he'd known her, forever.
She sounded tired, still, and he sighed at her. Lemme go down to mess, get you somethin' to eat.. Which skipping his meeting with Bertie had brought the man to his door to talk in person.
He had no doubts that passerbys had seen the sleeping woman in his bed. Though the thought did make the tips of his ears flush briefly. He'd have to unpack that, later.
His rumbled response caused her fingers to pause briefly, a lazy grin playing across her lips. Though she didn’t miss the heart of his words. Worried, and she felt a pang of regret at causing him that pain. ...Stay? Lifting her heavy lidded gaze she tried to understand where they were, if not the infirmary.
Her senses slowly came into focus, his body turning as her gaze drifted back. Meg blinked, her gaze wandering and settling, somewhat blearily, on Nairn’s chest. Her tired eyes lingered, taking in the sight, confused at what they had landed on until realising. He was lounging there next to her, bare-chested, a bit of dampness from his recent shower still lingering on his skin, a faint sheen catching in the low light. Her mouth parted to speak, but then closed after a moment, realising her stare had lingered a bit too long, quickly shifting her eyes away. Meg mumbled something in Dalish, low and incomprehensible even to her in her half-waking state, covering her embarrassment with a fleeting mumble.
I’ll make it up to Bertie… she sighed, fingers absently resumed their toying with his hair between the tired slow blinks.
Guess I didn’t quite nail that whole ‘balance your energy’ thing, she murmured, her tone light but underpinned with a touch of guilt. The fact that he’d brought her here, to his own room, spoke volumes she wasn’t entirely sure how to unpack. It was private here, a space he didn’t share, and she felt the weight of what it meant that he’d taken her here.
Trying not to break the moment, she looked up at him with a quiet acknowledgment, her voice low. She understood the gesture, understood what it cost him, and she wouldn’t intrude on that trust. Is that where we are? Well... they won't hear it from me. I know you like... you're a private person. I get it.
When he offered to head down to the mess to get her food, she shook her head slightly, her voice still hoarse from exhaustion. I’m not hungry, Nairn, just… tired. Spent, she admitted, feeling the weight of her own limbs pulling her further into the mattress. She didn’t want him to go. No, not yet. The thought of being left alone in the strange room, even for a few minutes, made her feel even smaller, more vulnerable. Her defences were weak, spread thin from spending so much mana at once. Yet his words of a ‘partnership’ had her ears perking, eyes attempting to focus on him fully, her entire attention on him.
Snickering, she couldn’t help but tease him, Told ya, a smile goes a long way…. Could use a smoke though… for the headache since I can’t… her fingers twirled around the strands of his claimed hair.. I’m all empty.
