That suggestion makes Bo’s brows raise in surprise. An instrument? She snorts in a scoffing manner at the thought of being a musician. “I don’t think I would be any good at it, but fine.”
The warmth surrounding her hand feels nice though and in a few moments it relaxes.
"The point is to get good," he explains patiently. "That means you're practicing enough to keep your hand flexible and build strength. If you keep being bad, you're ignoring the physical therapy. Again."
He gives her a pointed look. "You came to a healer for advice but if you're just going to ignore that advice the pain is your own fault."
Hawke isn't the sort of healer that will keep coaxing a person to take advice they've ignored. Either she'll do as he tells her or she'll cripple herself. That's her choice.
"Feeling better?" he asks as he lifts his hands off of hers. "Give it a flex."
She makes a face at the scolding but sighs in resignation. “All right, I’ll give it a try.”
Bo-Katan is willing to work at it, especially since she has the time, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be grumpy about it. An artist she is not. This was going outside of her comfort zone. Ultimately though, she didn’t want to have to deal with this forever.
Looking down at her hand she tried to move her fingers. They curled in but she couldn’t quite make a fist with it.
"Hmm, limited range." Hawke gets up and disappears down a hallway. Montoya lifts his head and watches his master go but doesn't get up.
He's back a few minutes later with a glass jar full of a slightly green paste. Hawke sits back down and offers it to her. "Salve for the pain," he explains before he takes her hand and sandwiches it between his.
The pulse of healing is much stronger this time, almost a cold, sharp blast of it. "Try again."
Bo-Katan breathes in sharply only because she hadn’t expected that sensation, but she takes it like a pro. When instructed to try again, she tried flexing her fingers again. It was an improvement but still not perfect.
A part of her wanted to cry in frustration and anger. Gideon had taken so much from her and destroying her hand had been his final act of spite against her. It reminded her every day of that man and she hated it. She holds back her emotions though, her face a practiced cool expression.
"Good!" Hawke, meanwhile, looks pleased. "There is some healing that your hand can still do. Keep up the visits to the hot springs and see me... oh, twice a week? We'll do regular sessions on top of your physical therapy and it should progress."
Hawke doesn't know how long it'll take. He's not that good of a healer but what he does know is proving to be useful.
"If I'm not around due to a Trial or some other nonsense my student, Mel, can help you. She's a very gifted healer." Hawke speaks of her with fondness. She's his favorite student and he's not ashamed to say it.
His optimism helps to soothe her inner turmoil, a glimmer of hope returning to her eyes as she nods. “I will,” she says, mustering up some of her determination. She can do this. If she could just get her hand feeling somewhat normal, that would go a long way in helping her feel like herself again.
“Thank you,” she says quietly but with definite gratitude. “But please. Don’t tell anyone about this. There’s someone here who wouldn’t think twice about using my weakness to their advantage.”
"I'll tell you right now, I'm not keeping this secret from my friends," he says with a little shake of his head. "They'll ask me what I've been doing and I'll talk about my healing. Best I can promise you is not to say your name."
And that's all she's getting from him. Hawke understands pride. He has a ton of it himself but he's not going to lie about what he's been up to. Hawke prefers to be honest whenever he can.
"And watch out how much you keep secret. A weak side could get people hurt if they don't know about it in a Trial." He shrugs.
She didn’t much like that and it shows in her expression, but she relents. “That’s good enough.” Or at least she hoped it would be.
“I only tell those I trust,” she says back. “If that person knows, it could get me killed.” It was more than just pride. It was self preservation. Her and Maul nearly went at it the other day. Despite how she very much would have liked to have kicked his ass, she had been more at a disadvantage than usual thanks to her hand.
"Good news, death is not permanent. And I imagine you have at least a few friends who would rally to you if this bastard tries anything." Hawke has seen the people rally together more than once around people. He knows he would go to war if someone threatened his friends here. Most of them don't need defending but that's not really the point.
"There's a combat school," he offers as he pours them both a cup of tea. "Someone there could teach you to fight in a way that compensates for the injury."
Hawke sprawls back in his seat, long legs bumping the coffee table. "Or you learn some magic of your own. Even a crippled hand won't slow down most casting."
Her expression hardens at the suggestion of going to combat school. “I don’t need lessons on how to fight,” she snaps. That hit a sore spot. She can fight just fine, it’s her hand that needs fixing. That hit her pride more than anything.
She huffs out an indignant breath, trying to get ahold of herself. This man didn’t know her after all. He was just trying to help. That was the whole reason she came here.
“That cat gave me fire magic,” she then admits after she had composed herself.
Hawke raises an eyebrow, unbothered by her temper. "If you're scared a man's going to kill you because you're currently crippled in one hand, I'd say you do. Because you don't know how to fight him with the injury."
She can be as skilled as she claims. Hawke doesn't know her from the Queen of Orlais but he will happy point out flaws in logic. "Besides, never a bad idea to learn new fighting skills even if you've been fighting your whole life. I've been some form of mercenary most of my adult life and I'm still learning new techniques."
He nods in understanding. "Yes, lots of people got that at the last event. I can help you with that too if you want."
“I’m not scared,” she hisses between her teeth. She just didn’t want Maul to have reason to get the upper hand on her… again. Having him around was bad enough, but knowing he could beat her down again was even worse.
But yes, his logic was sound, but her emotions weren’t exactly logical. Having the fire magic though, that’s something Maul wouldn’t expect. Perhaps that was something she could use to her advantage.
“All right, I’m willing to learn that.”
It’s a compromise. And maybe… she could ask Din or some ideas.
Hawke wiggles his fingers and a candle from a nearby book shelf lifts off and floats over to the coffee table. He does enjoy showing off his talents to new visitors.
"The best exercise when you're first learning fire magic is a candle," he explains. "My father when he first taught me magic said any idiot can light a bonfire. A mage can light every candle in the room and not melt a single drop of wax."
He snaps his fingers and every candle in the room including the one on the table light with a small, gentle flame. He snaps his fingers again and they all go out except the one on the table.
"Fire magic is one of the most dangerous forms if a mage has no control over it."
Bo-Katan goes quiet and watches carefully as she slips her glove back on her hand. Blinking in surprise as the candies are suddenly lit then go out. Again she feels out of her element as magic was never her thing. That was the Jedi’s alley.
“And how do you control it?” This asked cautiously as she has a feeling the answer will be something she doesn’t like. Again. Yet it’s ironic how fire seemed to suit her.
"Fire breathes," Hawke says as his face scrunches up in thought. It's always difficult to explain fire magic to new people. He's used it for so that it is instinctive. He doesn't really think about it anymore, he just does it. "So... you breathe it. A little breath of magic to light a candle, almost like a sigh. A scream to rain fire down from the sky."
He waves a hand because he hates his own metaphor. Hawke sits forward. "Fire is about the fuel you feed it. If you want a small flame you give it very little fuel but fire is also hungry and opportunistic. It will take what it can get if you don't pay attention. Fire is control and discipline no matter how wild it looks."
Hawke remembers he's talking to a fighter, a warrior. He should use her terms. "A wild punch isn't going to win you a fight, right? You're precise in your strikes. Do the same with fire. You control the tide of battle? You control the tide of fire."
For several moments Bo-Katan just stares at him. What he’s saying goes completely over her head. It sounds like a lot of Jedi bullshit to her honestly.
So it’s a good thing when he tries to adjust his vernacular. Still it makes her brow furrow in confusion. This was still hard for her to follow.
“But how? Throwing a punch with your fist is different than… that.”
She motions to the flickering flame of the candle. She can’t just tell the fire what to do. Can she?
"At the end of the day magic is willpower. Your willpower to overcome the reality you see before you. Sort of like a fight. Skill's important but the will to win is just as needed to be a good fighter."
Hawke pushes the candle closer to her. "You want it lit. You have the power to do so. Extend that power, that feeling outwards, and use your will to make it happen. If it makes it easier tie it to a physical gesture. I snap to show off but I don't need it."
Hawke does nothing and the candle lights and extinguishes all in a breath. "But you like physical things. A physical gesture can help casting."
He's speaking more her language now. It's clear that the wheels are turning in Bo-Katan's head as she listens and then looks down at the candle. With her head tilting slightly to the side, she stares at the candle as she ponders all of this.
Willpower she has in spades. Though it all sounds ridiculous and there's doubt in her mind, she's seen what the Jedi can do. If he says she has the power to do it, she believes it. So she gives it a try.
Reaching out her right hand, she points at the candle. Focusing her will and speaking it. "Light."
She then gasps softly as a small flame suddenly comes to life.
Hawke whoops and reaches across to pat her on the shoulder. "Good job! Nicely done!"
A first try success is something to celebrate. Many of his students have struggled with that but she got it. Willpower indeed. Then he pinches the flame and puts it out. "Now, do that again until it is second nature. Until you don't even have to think about it. It's as instinctive as throwing a punch."
As he settles back in his seat he holds up a finger. "But if I find out you're practicing your magic more than you're doing physical therapy I am going to scold you quite thoroughly and teach you no further magic."
While magic is impressive and Hawke thinks everyone should celebrate being able to cast it, he's not going to let her forget about her health. She came to him as a healer first, not a teacher.
Bo-Katan is stunned and stares at the flame. It actually worked. So much so she just blinks at the pat to her shoulder.
Once the initial shock wears off something glimmers in her eyes. As if something just dawned on her. She could be good at this. She could be good at something that didn’t necessarily have to do with war and fighting. Though of course it could be used for that too. And while it was out of her element… maybe she could be good at music too. Maybe.
Hawke holds out his hand to shake on the deal, mindful to use the one that won't force her to shake with the injured one.
"Make me a promise, Bo-Katan." Hawke is very serious about this. Healing is not his strong suit. It would be easier to teach her magic and let someone else handle the healing but she asked for this. He's going to make her keep to it.
They could expand what she's learning later. Perhaps even teach her how to heal if she showed any aptitude for it.
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The warmth surrounding her hand feels nice though and in a few moments it relaxes.
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He gives her a pointed look. "You came to a healer for advice but if you're just going to ignore that advice the pain is your own fault."
Hawke isn't the sort of healer that will keep coaxing a person to take advice they've ignored. Either she'll do as he tells her or she'll cripple herself. That's her choice.
"Feeling better?" he asks as he lifts his hands off of hers. "Give it a flex."
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Bo-Katan is willing to work at it, especially since she has the time, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be grumpy about it. An artist she is not. This was going outside of her comfort zone. Ultimately though, she didn’t want to have to deal with this forever.
Looking down at her hand she tried to move her fingers. They curled in but she couldn’t quite make a fist with it.
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He's back a few minutes later with a glass jar full of a slightly green paste. Hawke sits back down and offers it to her. "Salve for the pain," he explains before he takes her hand and sandwiches it between his.
The pulse of healing is much stronger this time, almost a cold, sharp blast of it. "Try again."
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A part of her wanted to cry in frustration and anger. Gideon had taken so much from her and destroying her hand had been his final act of spite against her. It reminded her every day of that man and she hated it. She holds back her emotions though, her face a practiced cool expression.
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Hawke doesn't know how long it'll take. He's not that good of a healer but what he does know is proving to be useful.
"If I'm not around due to a Trial or some other nonsense my student, Mel, can help you. She's a very gifted healer." Hawke speaks of her with fondness. She's his favorite student and he's not ashamed to say it.
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“Thank you,” she says quietly but with definite gratitude. “But please. Don’t tell anyone about this. There’s someone here who wouldn’t think twice about using my weakness to their advantage.”
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And that's all she's getting from him. Hawke understands pride. He has a ton of it himself but he's not going to lie about what he's been up to. Hawke prefers to be honest whenever he can.
"And watch out how much you keep secret. A weak side could get people hurt if they don't know about it in a Trial." He shrugs.
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“I only tell those I trust,” she says back. “If that person knows, it could get me killed.” It was more than just pride. It was self preservation. Her and Maul nearly went at it the other day. Despite how she very much would have liked to have kicked his ass, she had been more at a disadvantage than usual thanks to her hand.
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"There's a combat school," he offers as he pours them both a cup of tea. "Someone there could teach you to fight in a way that compensates for the injury."
Hawke sprawls back in his seat, long legs bumping the coffee table. "Or you learn some magic of your own. Even a crippled hand won't slow down most casting."
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She huffs out an indignant breath, trying to get ahold of herself. This man didn’t know her after all. He was just trying to help. That was the whole reason she came here.
“That cat gave me fire magic,” she then admits after she had composed herself.
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She can be as skilled as she claims. Hawke doesn't know her from the Queen of Orlais but he will happy point out flaws in logic. "Besides, never a bad idea to learn new fighting skills even if you've been fighting your whole life. I've been some form of mercenary most of my adult life and I'm still learning new techniques."
He nods in understanding. "Yes, lots of people got that at the last event. I can help you with that too if you want."
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But yes, his logic was sound, but her emotions weren’t exactly logical. Having the fire magic though, that’s something Maul wouldn’t expect. Perhaps that was something she could use to her advantage.
“All right, I’m willing to learn that.”
It’s a compromise. And maybe… she could ask Din or some ideas.
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"The best exercise when you're first learning fire magic is a candle," he explains. "My father when he first taught me magic said any idiot can light a bonfire. A mage can light every candle in the room and not melt a single drop of wax."
He snaps his fingers and every candle in the room including the one on the table light with a small, gentle flame. He snaps his fingers again and they all go out except the one on the table.
"Fire magic is one of the most dangerous forms if a mage has no control over it."
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“And how do you control it?” This asked cautiously as she has a feeling the answer will be something she doesn’t like. Again. Yet it’s ironic how fire seemed to suit her.
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He waves a hand because he hates his own metaphor. Hawke sits forward. "Fire is about the fuel you feed it. If you want a small flame you give it very little fuel but fire is also hungry and opportunistic. It will take what it can get if you don't pay attention. Fire is control and discipline no matter how wild it looks."
Hawke remembers he's talking to a fighter, a warrior. He should use her terms. "A wild punch isn't going to win you a fight, right? You're precise in your strikes. Do the same with fire. You control the tide of battle? You control the tide of fire."
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So it’s a good thing when he tries to adjust his vernacular. Still it makes her brow furrow in confusion. This was still hard for her to follow.
“But how? Throwing a punch with your fist is different than… that.”
She motions to the flickering flame of the candle. She can’t just tell the fire what to do. Can she?
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Hawke pushes the candle closer to her. "You want it lit. You have the power to do so. Extend that power, that feeling outwards, and use your will to make it happen. If it makes it easier tie it to a physical gesture. I snap to show off but I don't need it."
Hawke does nothing and the candle lights and extinguishes all in a breath. "But you like physical things. A physical gesture can help casting."
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Willpower she has in spades. Though it all sounds ridiculous and there's doubt in her mind, she's seen what the Jedi can do. If he says she has the power to do it, she believes it. So she gives it a try.
Reaching out her right hand, she points at the candle. Focusing her will and speaking it. "Light."
She then gasps softly as a small flame suddenly comes to life.
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A first try success is something to celebrate. Many of his students have struggled with that but she got it. Willpower indeed. Then he pinches the flame and puts it out. "Now, do that again until it is second nature. Until you don't even have to think about it. It's as instinctive as throwing a punch."
As he settles back in his seat he holds up a finger. "But if I find out you're practicing your magic more than you're doing physical therapy I am going to scold you quite thoroughly and teach you no further magic."
While magic is impressive and Hawke thinks everyone should celebrate being able to cast it, he's not going to let her forget about her health. She came to him as a healer first, not a teacher.
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Once the initial shock wears off something glimmers in her eyes. As if something just dawned on her. She could be good at this. She could be good at something that didn’t necessarily have to do with war and fighting. Though of course it could be used for that too. And while it was out of her element… maybe she could be good at music too. Maybe.
“Okay. You have a deal.”
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"Make me a promise, Bo-Katan." Hawke is very serious about this. Healing is not his strong suit. It would be easier to teach her magic and let someone else handle the healing but she asked for this. He's going to make her keep to it.
They could expand what she's learning later. Perhaps even teach her how to heal if she showed any aptitude for it.
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“I promise.”
And she will keep it as best she can, being the Mandalorian of her word that she is.