2/27/15

Carver was surprised and pleased when Anders stayed after Marian and Nathaniel's departure. According to the trio, the Mage was given the official title of recruiter and stationed in Kirkwall- giving the order a true presence in the Free Marches. The viscount had been understandably shaken, but unwilling to stand against a person as powerful as the Hero of Ferelden when she announced the issue with Darkspawn was "bigger than any nation."

Her smirk of pride as she left did get Carver to laugh. He appreciated the chance to do so, taking it as his distraction from the discomfort of life. His mother had moving into the mansion, and Carver had the newfound game tormenting nobles. Fellow nobles now, he supposed.

After three years he still found himself called on. The Amell/Hawke estate was known as one of the few to truly act and try to make things better. Carver had promised to be a force to be reckoned with, and so he truly was.

Merrill and Isabella were a mystery to him. His mother watched as both women doted on him and gave knowing smiles, but those smiles never seemed to make sense to the bemused man. Love was still a mystery to him.

Though Isabella was...a nice distraction.

Anders still hung out with the Hawkes extensively. His presence calmed Leandra, mostly because his demeanor was so like to Mari and father. Carver even found himself warming up to the odd blonde and his little ginger cat Pounce.

As Carver got settled into noble life, he took to truly helping the downtrodden of Kirkwall. It felt like an obligation to his new home. His group was still the same: his swords, Bella's daggers, and Merrill with Anders in the rear with magic. It made things quite easy for the most part.

During one of those outings however, Carver couldn't help overhearing the conversation between his two mage companions.

"So. Ser Pounce-a-lot...who knighted him?"

Anders sighed. Loudly. "Is...I'm sorry, is this a serious question?"

Merrill squealed with glee as the aforementioned feline peeked out of his owner's robes with a mew towards her. "We should get him a little sword! Or is he best with his claws to you suppose? I know! A dashing cap, maybe with a feather in it."

Anders groaned. "Would you stop making fun of my cat?"

Merrill replied by coming closer and giving the cat a pet. Unfortunately, Pounce startled as they moved down some steps and swatted, cutting the elf's hand before disappearing into the folds of Anders' robes again.

"And they say what I do is dangerous," Merrill sighed.

Anders paused, the whole group silent, before he finally spoke. When he did it was whispered but clear. "I don't know why I'm bothering with this but Merrill...you do realize it's crazy? What you're doing?"

Carver stopped the group, turning to chastise but seeing Merrill looking pensive, heart-broken- lost. "If I had other options, I'd follow them."

"You HAVE choices, Merril. You've always had choices. Stop using blood magic. Don't be the worst of us."

Merrill growled. Loudly. "Like you know anything about it."

"I do." The response was haunted, forced. Anders quickly took hold of Merrill's hands and guided her into an alcove. Carver and Isabella followed, watching out- though for whom neither was suddenly sure.

"You...what?" That was Carver, suddenly suspicious and unsure how to react.

Taking a deep breath, Anders explained. "Amaranthine. After conscription everything was kind of...crazy. Commander Hawke, she...she trusted me completely. Enough that I admitted I wondered what all the fuss was about blood magic." He looked at all of them, guilty. "So she told me to find out, as long as I was safe with it. The concept was...thrilling. At first. I never used it on anyone unwilling. Actually, the Commander was the only one I was even comfortable talking with about it, much less using for the power outside of myself. And then... Until... Maker!"he leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes.

"What happened?" Merrill asked. She mostly used her own blood for the magic, but Carver and Bella were sympathetic and didn't tend to mind a little cut here or there. Still, the look on Anders right now, and knowing he had done the same, made her need to know.

"I wasn't thinking. Neither was she. It was an ambush, and I had gotten comfortable with the power. I drew out for it while she was fighting one and pulled too hard. If Howe hadn't called out to her I wouldn't have even noticed she was down. My fault. Just a slip, an underestimation of our enemy. I couldn't do it after that." He shuddered. When his eyes opened again, haunted, he looked right at Merrill. "I was lucky. I have a strong affinity to healing magic and could reverse the effects. But turn away from this road, please. Most blood mages- we never get a second chance."