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"Fine." The door swings open. Jahenna is belligerently naked. "I invoke the Right of Conscription on this little shit, on the assumption that Metella isn't just fucking with me for the sake of fucking with me." She turns her head from side to side and shouts at top volume. "LET IT BE KNOWN THAT THIS BRAT IS NOW A RECRUIT OF THE GREY WARDENS. NOW FUCK OFF."

The door slams. There is a bedlike thump from within.
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"I wasn't expecting her to be quite this unsociable," Metella murmurs. She puts the ward back on the door. "I don't think I'd better let you out of my sight until the Grey Warden is properly awake."

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"...So, is that not how you conscript someone?"

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"I'm sure you are validly conscripted. I'm less sure that the Templars will believe you're validly conscripted if they come for you before Jahenna wakes up and I'm not there to politely explain."

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"Didn't any of the other mages hear her? She's got impressive lungs."

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"Who do you want there to politely explain your conscription to the templars, other mages or me?"

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"I'm not objecting to you being my protectoress, Metella. That'd be silly."

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"Good."

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"...Breakfast?"

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"Sure."

Breakfast.
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It is breakfast! That is a thing that it is.

Halfway through breakfast, Jahenna descends blearily from the upper floors. She grabs a nearby elf and growls a demand for boiling water. (The elf diplomatically does not clarify that he's actually a member of the administrative staff, and instead quietly relays the demand to a more appropriate elf.)

"'Lo," she grumbles to Metella and Zann.
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"Good morning," says Metella. "This is Zann, your new recruit. Zann, this is Jahenna."

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"Hi! I just wanted to say that I so admire the work you do, and I look forward to working with you!" Zann thrusts out a hand to shake.

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Zann retracts her hand. "Good talk."
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"I think you're either going to get along pretty well, or very, very badly," Metella predicts.

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"I think this might be lack of tea," hazards Zanna as the serving elf shows up with boiling water and a teabag.

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Jahenna takes the teabag and hurls it into a fireplace (from some distance; she's got good aim), then takes the water and drops in a red crystal. Thick smoke explodes from the cup, and when it clears the cup is full of still-boiling black liquid. Jahenna throws it back in one swallow, then pulls a glowing red vial out of her belt and drinks that too.

She turns to the elf. "You're just some serving elf. I specifically asked that fucker Sinthari to bring me the water. Tell him I told him to go fuck himself, and that his mother should have drowned him in a river when he was born."

The elf flees. Jahenna nods, then turns back to her companions. "What were you saying? I no longer hate you. Or at least I no longer hate the one that I've confirmed isn't shit, I don't know you."
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Metella patiently indicates Zann. "You conscripted her this morning. Congratulations."

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"Oh. I recall that. She any good at killing things?"

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"All right, then. Excellent job, Metella."
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"Thank you."

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"I'm going to go forage for bacon," Jahenna says decisively, "and Maker help any man who stands in my path."

A man stands in her path! Actually, several men. Greagoir and Irving are first among them.

"Warden, stand aside. We are here to execute that girl for blood magic."



Jahenna blinks. "Nnnnno, I don't think so."
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Metella sits very quietly and observes this interaction.

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