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Calpernia marvels at Hadiza’s ability to lead. She is still the Inquisitor, no matter how many times she says she is no longer that. It is inextricably bound to her, a thread of fate she cannot cut. She directs the frightened and newly freed slaves, some still fresh from the markets and scarce acclimated to the exquisite cruelty of Tevene society. The ones who have homes to go back to are smuggled out. The ones with no past, remain to fight for a future worth living for.
Hadiza comforts the sick, and when she is not out playing the noblewoman, she is in the infirmary, always there, surrounded by the ailing, the dying, and the abandoned. Calpernia wonders if there is an end to the kindness in that woman, wonders at its source.
She feels jaded and cynical, has seen too often a price placed on kindness, only to find it hollow and meaningless, a shell to hide more refined and subtle cruelties. Kindness is an illusion used to lull slaves into a sense of security and safety. But there is no price on Hadiza’s kindness. There is no cruelty writ in her smile or gaze, no chill in her laughter. The infirmary is filled with the light of her.
When her day’s work is done, she comes to Calpernia, tired but content.
“You are a proficient healer,” she says, reluctant to give praise but Hadiza deserves it, “that is no small thing.”
Hadiza is toweling her hair dry, and raises her head to meet Calpernia’s gaze.
“No,” she agrees, “but I can still teach you if you’d like. You are skilled, but you mentioned your former master never truly honed your skills.”
And the Elder One sought only to use you as a vessel for a power that would destroy you.
Neither one of them says the words, but there they lay, naked and ugly, like a serpent that has wandered indoors.
“Is there time?” Calpernia asks, and Hadiza smiles.
“To teach you to mend those you have freed?” She asks brightly, “Always. Come, I will teach you what I know.”
Hadiza is shameless of her nudity, and glorious in it. Calpernia watches her move with careless grace, her hair wrapped in a heavy and thick towel, her skin dewy and smooth, silvered with scars, and her Rivaini mage mark stark and black against her skin, vivid and imbued with magic.
There is so much about magic she has yet to learn, but she knows Tevinter must come first.
Hadiza sits beside her.
“Most believe that healing is simply an act of casting a spell and thinking no more of it,” Hadiza explains, “but in order to be an effective healer, you must know the functions and parts of a human body the same as a physician. Magic is shaped by us…and therefore, healing magic is a precise art.”
Calpernia does not think of it, and merely slips into an attentive expression as Hadiza explains the rudiments of healing. She has never heard restoration magic explained in this way. Most Tevene mages scoff at it, but Calpernia has ever prided herself on being a cut above the rest.
She will be better.
They spend the night, practicing spells. Hadiza teaches her how to follow sickness in the blood with trace spells, how to cool fever, how to alleviate pains in the muscle and bone, and how to combine ice with restoration for migraines and headaches.
“There are spells you can do for childbirth as well, to ease the passing of the baby from the mother’s womb.” Hadiza explains, her gaze distant, remembering another life. “They take a great deal more effort than mixing tonics, but they are quicker. Tonics and potions must be consumed hours before to take effect, which can be a waste if the baby decides not to come.” She laughs, tells Calpernia a story about a girl she helped deliver while in Skyhold. Many babies were born that first spring, and Hadiza helped deliver more of them than she could count.
“There were children there?” Calpernia asks, incredulous, “Was that wise?”
Hadiza shrugs, lays on her back with a sigh.
“In retrospect, probably not,” she says, staring at the ceiling, but then looks at Calpernia with a warm smile, “but they were safer under my aegis than in the openness of the Hinterlands at the time. It was a rough winter for all of us, I will not begrudge them finding comfort and love in one another.”
Calpernia cannot fathom it. It is no small wonder the White Divine nearly dismantled the Inquisition. Hadiza was running a small kingdom from the sound of it.
“Do you miss it?” Calpernia asks, and her fingertips wander the plane of Hadiza’s bare belly. Hadiza watches, then sighs as restoration magic follows the trail Calpernia’s finger blaze.
“Skyhold? Yes. It was…for a while it was home. Before that, I was trapped and chafing in the Circle, and before that, House Trevelyan was going to make me a templar. Skyhold was empty, and I filled it. We all did. There was love there, and laughter, and safety, and all the things I longed to have.” Hadiza sighs again, throws her arm over her eyes.
“But it was all temporary. We knew it was. It was only a matter of how long we could keep it going. Still, I miss it.”
“And him.” Calpernia says, then regrets it. But Hadiza doesn’t flinch.
“Always him.” She says, then deigns to look at her. “But I carry it with me everyday. Just as you will carry all of what you have built.”
Calpernia swallows, looks away.
“The Archon wants my head on a platter.” She laughs, “I do not think I will live long enough to carry any of this.”
Hadiza laughs. “Corypheus came for my head. Sent his best and a corrupted dragon after me. And I’m still here.”
Calpernia purses her lips. “You seduced his general, and the Elder One wasn’t even truly the threat, was he? It was that damnable elf who made off with your arm.”
Hadiza smirks. “I have my charms. And it was no seduction that won my war. It was ingenuity and teamwork.”
Calpernia scoffs but there is no malice in it. Her fingers trace Hadiza’s hip, the magic continuing to follow. An ache Hadiza has long forgotten rises to the surface and melts away.
“You did it!” Hadiza exclaims sitting up. “Excellent work!”
Calpernia smiles.
“I’m a quick study.” She says proudly. Hadiza leans in, kisses the corner of her mouth.
“I know. Come, I’ll teach you how to draw out sickness before it damages the organs, next.”
Calpernia cries out as Hadiza pulls her onto the bed.
“How is this instruction?” She asks as Hadiza pins her down.
“Tomorrow, then.” Hadiza says, grinning. The towel comes loose, freeing Hadiza’s abundant curls. Calpernia sighs, and draws her down.
“You’re incorrigible.” She murmurs. “Teach me tomorrow, then.”
Hadiza smiles into the kiss that follows.