faderift | Blood Magic

Entry tags:

Blood Magic - 101

WHO: James Norrington, and YOU.
WHAT: Norrington gets ambushed, for information.
WHEN: Currently
WHERE: Norrington's 'office' (aka the table he's secured outside his tent to write reports)
NOTES: Warnings for blood magic, irritated Templar and probable Mage and Templar politics abounding, as well as people asking silly questions

Honestly, he really should have seen this coming. He was a known Templar Knight Commander - he had been hunting blood mages for nearly fifteen years now. His name were on several papers on Maelficarium, and he had trained Knights all over the Free Marches and even as far away as Orlais and Fereldan on how to properly hunt and kill blood mages.

Certainly, people were going to know of him. Certainly people were going to ask him about his past experiences. It was inevitable.

What he did not expect that was after coming in at the tail-end of an abomination attack to be bombarded by questions about blood magic - from soldiers down to the common folk. They crowded around him now, and you could just hear his voice over the fray of questions, stern and sometimes even caustic.

" -- NO I am not here to execute all the apprentice mages! One of them slipped - one. That does not mean the rest of them are suddenly going to start slicing open their wrists! They are children, they are learning. Is there a danger? Yes, but I sincerely doubt any of the mages here is blatantly teaching them ancient mind control rituals... "

There was a fast murmur of questions and then Norrington's voice could be heard again. "... No. You cannot do blood magic simply by cutting your finger and cursing. If that was the case every cook in the history of Thedas would be a blood mage. There are practices that someone must follow to use blood magic. If not, that is how we get abominations and demons from those failed spells."

Another fast and loud rat-a-tat of questions, and Norrington could be seen rubbing his face, "... No, not every blood mage is a Tevinter. Nor are they all Dalish. No, the Dalish do not practice sacrificing babies with Tevinter magisters -- do you know what the majority of the slave trade is? Yes, then it stands to reason that the Dalish and the Tevinter Magisters are Not In Cahoots. And NO the Dalish are not aiding Corpheyus with their tattoos -- their tattoos are not blood magic!"

Clearly, this is going well. So if you wish to help Norrington -- or just add more fuel to the fire -- please, feel free to stop by.

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She looks instantly wary. "Who are your people?"

"My ... well. My troop." He nods over at his camp, where Burns was making Giselle and Mullory burst out into laughter. The others were off taking care of their mounts. He smiled, a little, before looking back at her.

"I want them to know they should stop trying to find me 'a nice lady', as I have found one on my own. I ... well. I do not have any blood kin, as you do. They are my family."

She follows his gaze and shifts a bit.

"Is there harm in letting them continue? They need something to cheer them up."

One corner of his mouth lifts up, as he looks over at her, "Just as long as you are all right with them tossing strange women at me, certainly. I have a feeling you'll all have some amusement on my behalf."

She bites down on a smile, a gleam coming into her eye. "We'll have our own little prank in the works to pay them back. But it has occurred to me that Krem won't be back at Skyhold for some time. So it's probably my cousin Cyril we want for a chaperone. Blood family, by the way, isn't...really how it works for me, either."

"My lady Pel ... I like the way you think." He can't help the wicked edge to his smile, before he arched both eyebrows, "I see ... well. Then that is another thing we have in common. I would be delighted to meet Cyril."

A pause, "Provided he doesn't try to stab me for trying to call upon his cousin."

"Cyril's the least likely one to do that. I'll have words to see he doesn't spill to Merrick too soon, but even if he does, Merrick's off on a mission.

"I...grew up a long way from most of my family. My magic manifested when I was younger than normal." She remembers how Adelaide reacted. "Much younger than normal. I don't remember living with Clan Ghilan at all. I was sent to Clan Ashara. My mother had a cousin there who took me in till she died. Cyril's her son."

"I see ... so it is unlikely that I will have to deal with Merrick for a few more weeks. More than enough time to see where this shall take us."

He nodded his head at that, "I have heard that is the practice amongst Dalish mages - not too many in the same clan. I .. am sorry they separated you from your parents." He paused, and added quietly, "I lost my parents when I was very young, as well, along with my older brother. The Chantry, and the Templars, were the only family I had after that."

"I didn't...lose them, I never had them. Except two days every ten years, at the Arlathvhen. I was communally raised. And pretty independent, as children go. As First, I had to grow up pretty quickly."

He looked at her curiously, at that statement, before he looked around the open area of the courtyard. Then he tipped his chin, "Come, let us walk. There are enough people here that you can trust me not to do something ... well, brash."

He crooked a smile at her, before he asked, "So as the First, were you expected to take on many more responsibilities at a younger age? It doesn't sound like you had much of a childhood. Not that I am one to talk.."

None of this is secretive information to her. As far as she can tell, everyone had a shitty childhood. Her woes are small potatoes compared to Merrick or Ellana.

"Who does?" She gives a faint shrug. "A plague came through when I was nine. Left a lot of orphans, and a lot of work to be done with too few people feeling well enough to do it. I was between supervising chores and nursing the sick. What else was I going to do?"

Shitty childhoods seem to be what makes up most of the Inquistion, outside of a few lucky ones. He would not wish to put his childhood against any of the Dalish, or any mage child taken from their parents.

He looks at her for that, both a mix of sympathy, and admiration, "I am sorry for your losses, my Lady. You are ... stronger than many I know, to handle so much, so young."

"You would've handled it." Pel looks faintly uncomfortable with the praise. "Anyone would've handled it in my position. You do what you have to do. Help carry bodies to the pits, pretending they're dolls. No."

Deep breath. Not talking about that.

"I didn't come through it because I was strong. Coming through it was inevitable. You understand."

He nods his head, because of course he did. You survived, because that is what you had to do in that situation. You did not think about the blood splattered across your face, you did not think of all those you could not save.

You thought about the ones that you could, and you did.

"So tell me, once you were past surviving ... what did you do for family?"

"Well, there was Cyril still. And Merrick was little back then. I suppose I became the mother to some of them. Especially Merrick, when his father died a few years later. What about you?"

"... I was nine when my parents were murdered, and was sent to live with the Chantry after that. You spent a great deal of time, looking out for one another there." He looked towards the walls, and above, his gaze quiet.

"Those I grew up with - some were like brothers and sisters to me in truth. I protected them, stood up for them, helped them when they missed their families, or lack thereof. When you are orphans to everyone but the Maker, you learn that blood is not the only thing that makes siblings."

"It's true."

They find a place to stop. She settles down on the root of a tree.

"My...my brother by blood is here. He joined the Inquisition. He didn't know I'd be here. It's...strange, how different it is with him than it is with my other brothers. There's more of some things and less of other things."

He leans against the tree, a more casual pose then most would attribute to him. He looked at her, gaze thoughtful.

"You did not grow up with him ... but he is still your brother. Yes, I can see why that would be something that would need some adjustment. You sound like you want to be closer to him, though."

"We are close, but we're not. We don't know each other as well as I know, say, Merrick, but we mean a lot to each other. We have other things in common. We both love history, and...I suppose there's just something common between us. The biggest difference I've found I can't get past is that he grew up with our parents and just thought of me as an absentee sister. I grew up without any of them, so it wasn't just...a family with one really long arm stretched out to another clan. I was the extension. I met them once every ten years and I had to give them up every time, all three of them. He says it's not ideal for a family, but for me, there was no family."

"Do you resent him? For having that family? Can you forgive him for not being as you are, not being sent away to another clan?" Norrington asked quietly. "I do not think that is a matter of blood, Pel. I think that is a matter of knowing loss, and having that feeling brought home to you in a very ... real way."

"I don't resent him. I loved him the first minute I saw him. He's part of what I longed for. But I thought...I thought he'd understand what it was like when no one else did. I knew a lot of orphans, but nobody else who'd never had parents to begin with. I don't know why I expected him to understand. I thought too much of myself, maybe."

"Aaaah... " He nods in quiet understanding, before he put one hand to his chest, "I have not known that -- but I have known Templars who were brought in as babies. Burns is one. He has always explained as ... feeling disconnected, in a way. He chose the Templars, because he had no connection to anything else. It was all he had ever known." He muses on that for a moment, "I often wonder if Burns would have joined the Order, if he had anywhere else to go... if you had had a choice, would you have become First?"

"I don't know. Probably. I've never known anything else, and I've always been somewhat ambitious. It's been my purpose, always. Keeper Deheune saw the opportunity to raise me as her successor practically from infancy and she did it."

"Mmm. Yes, I can see that about you." He gave her a curious look, tipping his head, "So ... why are you here, if you are the First in your Clan? I would think the Keeper would be reluctant to have you away so long."

He certainly didn't want her to go away.

"She...set me free." A faint shrug. "Her words. Sorrel was Second, he'll be a good First."

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