Title: Blood Mages and Templars
Alternate Title: Moral Differences
Fandom: Dragon Age Origins
Rating: T
Characters: Alistair, F!Surana (Neria), Whatifconscripted!Jowan
Authoress Ramblings: A little (ish?) fic detailing some Returning with Andraste's Ashes/ Post Redcliffe convos (and some fluff?).
The tiny elven mage was illuminated by the fire, and her brown hair had a slight orange tint to it from the flames. She was picking at a biscuit, scattering crumbs into her lap. Alistair watched her, hesitating in going over to talk to her. Her head was lowered, her loose hair, covering her ears, was a dark contrast against the light purple robes she wore. It fell across her shoulder in tendrils, caked with blood, Alistair thought it was what the Blight would look like if seen from above, dark, bloody strands forcing their way into purity.
'Maker, she's beautiful' the former templar thought to himself, too bad he'd royally fucked up his chances with her, no pun intended. She stood and brushed the crumbs from her robes. She walked over to him.
"What's on your mind?" She asked in that mystical voice of hers.
"You allowed a blood ritual."
"Alistair…"
"Lady Isolde is dead!"
"Alistair…I did the best I could." Neria's voice was laced with anger, she was still shaken from the Trials of Andraste, and didn't need Alistair in her face about something that couldn't be helped.
"I know…I know…but still…blood magic isn't right…"
"I'm going to go get cleaned up…" Neria stood and gathered her things for a bath.
(Line goes here)
"Do you have anything to add, Warden?" Arl Eamon asked, looking at Neria.
"Jowan seems earnest in his desire to repent, milord." Neria's eyes were locked with Jowan's. This was her way of making up for failing him in the Tower.
"That is surprising, but what would you have me do with him?"
"Release him to me."
The arl, Alistair and Jowan all had varying looks of shock on their faces.
"WHAT? HE'S A BLOOD MAGE!" Alistair was outraged.
"That I cannot do." The arl replied, and Alistair calmed.
"Then I wish to invoke the Right of Conscription. If he lives, he lives, if he dies…he dies." Neria's voice almost caught as she added the last part.
"Let the Maker decide, then? Very well."
Alistair let out a squawk of disbelief. Neria ignored him and went over to Jowan.
"Neria…you saved me, again. Why?"
"Because you're my friend, Jowan." She said, unlocking the chains restraining Jowan.
"Can we get out of here?"
"Lets go." Neria replied, with a laugh.
Later that night, in camp, Alistair approached Neria again.
"You spared a blood mage."
"Jowan is my friend."
"He's a blood mage."
"Not all blood mages are evil!"
"Name one!"
"Jowan!"
The ex templar towered over the tiny mage, but both looked ready to murder the other. Neria was on her tiptoes to get in Alistair's face. The rest of their group paused in what they were doing to watch the Wardens.
"Name one who isn't your friend!"
"Neria Surana."
A hush fell over the camp as Alistair processed that. Jowan's eyes widened.
"Neria…Surana…that's…your name…"
"Picked up on that, did you?"
"YOU'RE a blood mage?"
Neria pulled her robe sleeve down to reveal the cuts. Alistair stepped back, his eyes wide and filled with horror.
"I…I don't know you anymore."
"Now you know how I felt when you told me when you're the heir to the country!"
Alistair and Neria went their opposite ways. The tense atmosphere in camp was thick and uncomfortable. Jowan and Neria retreated to their own corner to continue talking.
"Neria, you're a blood mage?"
"Yes, Jowan. I am."
The two were sitting on a log near Morrigan's fire, Neria was leaning on Jowan, like they used to back in the Tower.
"You've made your friend mad."
"He doesn't have to like me, he just has to work with me."
The pair were silent for several moments.
"Thank you. For saving me, I mean."
"You're my best friend, Jowan."
Jowan put his arm around her, and she sighed.
"I…I have something to say…Neria…I love you, I always ha-"
Jowan was cut off by Neria kissing him.
"I didn't save you just because you're my friend. I love you too."
