Of Instincts

In hindsight, Trinne had to admit there were probably much better--smarter--ways she could have reacted. But in the heat of the moment, without the luxury of time to rank her options from smartest to dumbest, she had fallen back on instinct. The same instinct she been following since she was eight years old: protect Jowan. A sizzling, angry lightning spell was a tad different than older, mocking apprentices, but her solution to both was to put herself between the threat and him. The enchantment on her new armor absorbed enough of the lightning to render it non-lethal, but not enough to keep her from crying out in pain as she dropped to her knees.

It was all sort of a blur after that. She was pretty sure she heard Jowan swear--a rarity in and of itself--as the sound of spells and combat filled her ears, but was more focused on breathing, trying to summon enough energy to heal herself, even a little. It hurt too much, she couldn't concentrate. And then Alistair was scooping her up to carry her back to camp, and she didn't even protest because if she opened her mouth she was going to whimper, she just knew it. They traveled in silence, the group of them, though Trinne could tell Jowan was biting his tongue--hard--to stay that way. When they reached the campsite, Alistair made a beeline for Wynne's tent, Jowan close behind them.

The white-haired mage looked up from the book she was studying, briefly puzzled and annoyed at the interruption before she absorbed the sight before her. "What happened?"

"Lightning spell," Alistair explained as he set Trinne down on the stool Wynne indicated. "Caught her in the chest."

Wynne tsked sympathetically and shook her head. "I'll see to her." She made a shooing motion. "You boys wait outside. I need room to work."

Alistair obeyed. Jowan didn't. "I need to talk to her."

Trinne watched the older mage purse her lips unhappily, noticed the thunderclouds in her best friend's eyes, and braced herself. "H-He can stay."

"Oh, very well," Wynne sighed. "Make yourself useful, at least, and help me get her armor off so I can see the extent of what I'm dealing with here."

Jowan nodded and turned his attention to the buckles on Trinne's armor, working so silently it was kind of unnerving, if she was honest. Quiet she was used to. Completely silent usually meant something was bothering him.

"What's got you all bent outta shape?" she mumbled teasingly as the breastplate came away and breathing got easier.

"Bent out-" Jowan's mouth pressed briefly into an angry line as he pointed at the scorched hole in her armor. "That, Trinne. That is what has me bent out of shape! You very nearly got yourself killed!"

"But I didn't! And it was protecting you!" she fired back, irritation trumping the pain momentarily as she pulled up her shirt for Wynne's examination. "You're welcome, by the way."

"That's not- I'm..." Jowan sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "I am grateful for that, don't get me wrong. But I don't need you playing chicken with death to protect me-"

"Contrary to all appearances," Trinne muttered, wincing as Wynne felt along the sprawling injury. The healer motioned for Jowan to turn around as she gently pulled Trinne's shirt off to see the extent of the damage.

"I was summoning a barrier," he snapped, spinning to face away from the women. "I would have been fine!"

"Well, I didn't know that!" she groused, biting back a curse as healing magic surged into the nasty electrical burn.

"You would have, if you'd waited another half a second before jumping in front of a lightning bolt wearing metal!" 

"It's enchanted metal, thank you very much!" Trinne protested, sighing slightly in relief as the pain in her chest eased. Her arm was getting tired, and she let it rest against the top of her head as she continued, "It has lightning resistance-"

"That you've never tested before!" Jowan pointed out heatedly. "How did you know it would be good enough?"

"I didn't, I just figured it was better I get hit than you..."

"Why?!" He started to turn around as he asked, caught himself, and settled for crossing his arms as he aimed the glare meant for her at the canvas of Wynne's tent. "Why is it better for you to get hurt or killed than me?"

"Because I don't know what I would do without you!" Trinne snapped.

"And, what, you think I'd somehow manage better if something happened to you?!" Jowan gave an almost bitter laugh. "I think you have that backwards, Trinne."

"No, I-" she growled in frustration, glaring at his back. "It's instinct. I've been lookin' out for you so long, it's just pure instinct at this point to put myself between you and danger."

His posture relaxed a little. "You don't have to do that anymore, though. I appreciate it, and Maker knows I needed it when we were kids, but I don't now."

"Oh, yeah, sure, just give up a behavior I've developed and reinforced over the course of almost a decade an' a half," Trinne deadpanned. "I'm sure that'll be easy as pie." A teasing smile quirked her lips. "'Sides, it's probably better this way; you and I both know I'm less of a baby about pain."

"That's completely untrue!" Jowan protested, and she would lay money he was rolling his eyes.

"Sure, sure," she drawled, pulling her shirt back on after a nod from Wynne. "That's why Sweeney rappin' our knuckles for passin' notes in class made you cry twice as long as I did."

"Trinne, I was eight. And he hit harder for me 'cause he's old-fashioned girls are delicate or something." Jowan turned, having deduced from the rustle of fabric that it was safe to look. "So, how bad did it scar?"

Trinne pulled up her shirt enough he could see the pinkish starburst scar poised at the lower edge of her ribcage. "Could be worse, even if it does spread far enough Alistair's gonna be the only one to see the whole thing."

Jowan made a face. "Aw, thank you very much for that mental image."

"You're very welcome," she replied sweetly, moving with only a little stiffness as she collected her armor. "And you're also welcome for the saving your life thing."

He half-smiled. "Thank you, really, but never do that again. I'm not worth it." He pulled her into a hug so abruptly she almost dropped her armor.

"Bullshit. You are to me!" Trinne protested. "But I'll work on it," she promised, voice muffled against his shoulder. "We've both done some growing since the last time I had to save your ass. So I will try to trust your instincts rather than just act on mine. But I can make no promises beyond that; I'll try."

"That's all I ask," he assured her, ruffling her hair as he let go.

"Brat," Trinne muttered in exasperation, shifting her grip as the pieces of her armor tried again to escape her grasp.

"And there's not a thing you can do about it," Jowan grinned, ducking out of the tent.

She huffed out a sigh, thanked Wynne for her help, and beelined after her best friend. We'll see about that.