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Language:
English
Series:
Part 3 of Inquisitor Trevelyan
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Published:
2016-08-22
Words:
955
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
15
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223

Inquisitale: Wicked Grace

Summary:

The tale that the Inquisitor tells during a game of Wicked Grace with his companions

It's a short tale, enough for a drink

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Now picture this, one small petite woman, trying to barge her way up the tower in some of the finest gowns in the Free Marches, waving a fan angrily at some of the newer templars and mages, while carrying her giant pet rabbit, Fluffor. Fluffor wasn't exactly your small edible type of rabbit. He was fairly large and heavy… One of those Antivian floppy ears. So she hurtled up the stairs, fan gesticulating wildly at everyone while carrying a rabbit tucked under her arm.

Work Text:

It was the night of my Harrowing. I was standing in the middle of a room full of templars and senior enchanters. As the Knight-Commander read me the chant, I got the nagging feeling something was missing. I had everything I needed, Senior Enchanter Lydia made sure of it and checked it a few times.

It was only when the ritual was about to start when I realised my brother was not among the templars in the room. Understandable given the possibility that I may be turned into a demon and so on. Unfortunately, that was not the reason as to why he was actually absent. In fact he was right at the bottom of the tower, trying his best to dissuade my mother from coming up. Somehow, Maker only knows how, she had gotten wind that I was going to have my Harrowing that night. Usually they don’t tell us when it is, but I suppose she has her ways of finding out.

Now picture this, one small petite woman, trying to barge her way up the tower in some of the finest gowns in the Free Marches, waving a fan angrily at some of the newer templars and mages, while carrying her giant pet rabbit, Fluffor. Fluffor wasn't exactly your small edible type of rabbit. He was fairly large and heavy… One of those Antivian floppy ears. So she hurtled up the stairs, fan gesticulating wildly at everyone while carrying a rabbit tucked under her arm.

They had absolutely no idea what to do with her and her behaviour. It’s one thing to have a demanding senior enchanter or high ranking templar, but a noble from one of the more powerful houses of Ostwick? They were completely out of their depths and had no idea what to do. So my mother bullied her way up the tower, despite my brother’s repeated pleads, but she silenced him under threat of revealing all his mishaps when he was younger. Templars and mages who tried to stop her either got a fan to their faces or Fluffor bit them.

The chant was interrupted by my mother’s shouting as she neared the room. Needless to say the Knight-Commander didn't look pleased at the sounds. He suspected a fight had broken out among the newer recruits and opened the door to shout.

But before he could finish his words, my mother smacked him on the nose with her fan and barged right in demanding that she be allowed to watch. Fluffor was shoved to my brother to hold. Despite their best efforts to quell my mother, apparently quite a few senior enchanters owed her favours, along with some of the templars, which she reminded them of rather harshly. That was when the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander realised that my mother had more than half the room, them included, wrapped around her finger. My brother and I just stood at the side rather awkwardly while she went on a tirade. It was just little favours she had done, getting them things or just ensuring messages were passed. Minor things which had no impact such as helping them get hold of books from other areas and so on, or weapons, but over time and when added together amounted to a lot.

Now while my mother went on calling out on favours owed, Fluffor was getting very agitated, likely due to the lyrium fumes that were present in the room. Quentin is a fairly strong man but if you've ever tried to hold onto an agitated Antivian floppy ear you'd be in for a surprise. They're fairly strong and Fluffor wrestled his way out of my brother’s grip.

The next part seemed like a scene from a comedic play when you think about it. Twenty to thirty mages and templars ran after one rabbit who kept escaping from their grasp. It didn't help that they collided often into each other in an attempt to grab hold of it. Quite a few candle stands were knocked over but the mages extinguished the flames fast enough, but some curtains were burned by the end of the day. They didn't manage to get hold of it until one of the senior enchanters found a basket about and threw it over Fluffor. The nearest Templar then sat on it keeping it in.

By then the calm conditions were disrupted and my mother, the First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander got into a heated yelling match over her antics. Several of the senior enchanters had been knocked out in the melee and many had bruises or bite marks. My mother eventually got her way after an hour of arguing. It was either they let her have their way or continue the argument until the sun rose again.

As such I went through my Harrowing with my mother and brother watching. It wasn't pleasant but it was probably a good thing I came out unscathed. No doubt she would have brought hell on them if I had to be killed, rules be damned. Hell hath no fury like a woman determined to have her way.

Once she was satisfied and contented, she left and the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander took my brother and I aside and told us under no conditions was she to ever step foot in the tower again. We assured him that we would never willingly invite her over, but that it was out of our hands if she decided to come over… Mainly because she's our mother.

I was the first Mage ever to have family present at their Harrowing. They put me in the Ostwick Circle History Book, which the First Enchanter kept under lock and key, and never spoke of it again.

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