*Promises to catch up on free day* *Posts even later*


Prompt: Magic is meant to serve man, and never to rule over him. Write about your MCIT dealing with magic, good or bad.


Blood magic was the literal worst. As he struggled within his own mind, against his own body, he felt absolutely justified in his conclusion. He could barely even tell where he was, or what he was doing. The tight grip around his soul only lifted a little when his name was called.

"Trevor!"

That's me, he thought sardonically, but couldn't make his lips so much as twitch.

Three people stopped in front of him: Hawke, Fenris, and Merrill. Oh, fantastic. No, these were exactly the people he wanted to see him puppeted about by a madman. Whether he believed in the Maker or not, he was certain some cosmic force was fucking with him.

"Ah, you've arrived." The blood mage's voice echoed both outside-through Trevor's ears-and inside his head. Gross. "I was wondering if my new pet would get a chance to play."

Trevor's hearing went fuzzy afterwards and his body jerked forward. He vaguely felt a weapon in hand, and he went back to desperately straining against the control over his limbs; It didn't seem to do much good.

He met with Fenris in combat, both Hawke and Merrill jumping back to focus on taking out the blood mage and canceling his spells. He couldn't focus on them, because of his own fight, but he hoped they were winning.

Soon, Trevor was sporting several new bruises and cuts.

He would have grinned if he had control of his mouth. Fenris wasn't going easy on him, even considering they were… well, friends at least. Several nights spent rolling around in bed suggested a little more. He started to get worried when Fenris disarmed him, flat side of his blade used to push Trevor to the ground.

Would the mage make him get up again? Would Fenris cut him down for being unable to control himself?

His heart hammered as he got one question answered: his body slowly lifted itself from the ground, the blood mage's cursing filling Trevor's brain. Before he could move though, he heard a shriek and staggered-under his own power-into Fenris's arms. Was that a dying scream?

Trevor could feel himself tremble, and raised his arms, just to be sure. Yep, they were all his. He clenched his hands over the slim shoulders in front of him and tried to steady his breathing.

It took him a moment to realize several people called his name. He couldn't answer. He knew he should feel better, but the sudden change in his equilibrium had him reeling. That and…

The carnage around him was easier to see, since Trevor could look around under his own power. The first, and arguably the best, thing he noticed was the body of the blood mage lying on the ground near Hawke and Merrill, dead. Thank the fucking Maker or whoever was in charge. Decidedly less wonderful were the other bodies.

Trevor tried not to look too hard at them, but even with a brief scan it was difficult to ignore the way they had been treated. The blood mage had apparently kidnapped many before Trevor, and they had not fared so well.

Seeing them on the ground, mutilated and lifeless, Trevor felt a heat within himself. One of those bodies could have been him.

Recognizing the overwhelming roiling in his body, Trevor pushed away from Fenris and stumbled over to a few broken and rotted crates. He leaned over and retched.

The rest of his group talked in the background, but Trevor couldn't bring himself to listen in; They were keeping their voices quiet anyway.

More images of tortured victims danced before his lids and he retched again. Was this his life? No quiet? Just day after day of horrible shit? He couldn't handle it. The back of his hand wiped at his mouth despite the futility-his mouth tasted as terrible as he felt.

"Trevor. Let's go." Fenris sounded cool and unaffected, but Trevor didn't have the strength to really get angry.

"Yeah, of course. Get it together Trevor, it's only a little blood magic control." Though he apparently still had enough energy for sarcasm.

A hand settled on his shoulder, making Trevor tense. "That… is not what I meant."

Trevor snorted. It hurt his throat. When he turned to give Fenris another scathing comment though, the elf's face was, well, hesitant. It was hidden, but Trevor had spent enough time (pining) watching him to notice. Then Trevor noticed Merrill had crept closer too. She smiled, small and nervous.

"I can look you over. Make sure- Well, I'm sure you're fine, of course, but you can never be too certain. And we do care about you." She twisted her fingers together. "Oh, that's too forward, isn't it?"

Fenris didn't contest anything, just squeezed his shoulder as his brows slowly drew together in a look Varric always described as 'brooding.' It hit Trevor like a punch to the face. Fenris was worried. For him. Obviously, Trevor.

He wiped at his mouth again, self-conscious, but stood up with the help of the hand which moved under his arm.

"Right, yeah." He swallowed, despite the lingering sour taste, and looked over his companions. "Thanks."

Their smiles didn't fix everything, but he felt it was a good step.


Ahhh, well, I had trouble with this one. Not 100% sure what, but let me know if anything doesn't seem to make sense. Otherwise, huzzah! Another one down. It's progress, at least. ^^;