[Robb thinks magic works that way. That it is more powerful than anything man can do. He has heard stories about how Renly came to a rather odd end. No sword could have defended him. Not the entire army of Mace Tyrell that he had besides him. None.
So he gazes at the flame and cocks his head while his eyes narrow.]
I would burn my hand. Or do you know a spell that could undo the burn?
[He does not take the flame, he just stares at it.]
[that's the simple way to put it. She's quickly learning that as familiar as magic is, even then all the different sorts are different to one another. She's never had to explain how it works, or why it does this or that, and yet here she's done it numerous times.
It's a nice change, she thinks. She loves talking about magic, and that people care enough to bother, whether it's out of interest or fear, well]
Magic can be seen as an - extension? - of a person's will. It does as it is commanded, just as a lord would command his men in battle.
So you control the flame and the damage it can do? That is the magic spell?
[He still looks at it with the wary eyes of a medieval farm boy, hesitant to move and even more hesitant to trust. She seems nice and probably is nice, but he does not know her well enough to trust her magic. Gods, he does not even trust the lady Granger’s magic and that has resulted in quite some difficulties.]
But that is not the same. [Robb shakes his head.] I am sure it is not. [Because he absolutely knows magic, absolute.] Magic is just for some people. I don’t think it has something to do with their will.
I control the flame and what it can harm. I cannot control what damage it does to what I do want it to touch.
[she feels like she's about to give a full on lesson about magic to this poor boy, and while she wouldn't mind, she doubts he wants to hear her go on and on about it. Nor does she want it to turn into an argument either, so she lets the spell fade to put him at ease]
It may not work that way in other worlds, no, but that is how it is in my world, depending upon the wizard or mage. [she makes a vague gesture] There is a difference between just casting a spell and controlling a spell. I have spent a great deal of time mastering my craft, which is why I have the control I do over spells like that. I cannot do that with all of my magic, though - just the fire spells.
[Robb smiles a bit while staring at the flame she is holding.]
You are asking an awful lot of trust from me, my lady. [After saying that he focuses his gaze onto her face. He has to say that she looks rather beautiful in some sort of wild way. Not a dainty maid used to silks.
It is hard to let his wariness go but it helps when the flame disappears again.]
I thought they came hand in hand. [He remembers himself that Bran would have found this so very interesting. Gods, the boy would gobble up every word she’d say.] Uttering spells and controlling them. Because why would you utter spells and not be able to control the sorcery that comes from it?
You would make quite the bad sorcerer if you can do one thing but cannot follow through. It is like holding the best sword but not knowing what to do with it.
That is a very good way to put it. [she crosses her arms loosely now that she isn't holding onto the flame, and gives him a bit of an amused, wry look]
Thankfully, there are very few wizards around. There is plenty of magic here, of course, but it works differently from mine. You may run into someone who will tell you everything opposite of what I just did, for all I know.
[she tilts her head, then gives him a quick grin]
Though, if I have not chased you off with my sorcery, you're welcome to build your bravery up so that you can come hold my spell.
Well, a friend of mine is a sorcerer as well. I have seen her doing it. It is different from what you can do. She can make things appear and disappear and go to other realms. [And he got uncomfortable because of it and it finally ended up in a fall out.] It is odd to live amongst people who rely on magic.
[Normally Robb does not doubt his bravery. But now he is here, away from what he has left behind at home and struggling with all that had been so normal to him at first, he wonders if he truly is brave enough.]
Ah... [There is hesitation in his voice.] Very well then. But if my hands end up scorched I have to take up my sword. [If he can hold one with burned hands.
Slowly he extends a hand towards her.] I hope it is wise of me to trust a stranger.
To different realms? [her eyebrows go up] That is a new one for me. There are different realms in my world, but not many of them are accessible by magic alone - and one cannot make something disappear there at their will.
[she wasn't expecting him to build his bravery so soon, but it does make her smile - not the mischievous sort, but a genuine one. She uncrosses her arms]
If your hands end up scorched I will bow my head to make the cut all the more easier.
[she murmurs under her breath, bringing the little flame back to life. And, as if the thing in her hand is a solid object, places it in his hand.
It's warm; comfortably so, and it simply hovers there above the palm of his hand. She drops her own hand and tilts her head at him, eyebrows raised as if to say "I told you so"]
You've chosen wisely, as I am the honest sort of stranger.
Yeah...I think so. [He frowns and tries to recall the things Hermione did.] She could get letters from here to my home. But eventually...I only chose to send the one to my lady wife. It could be a different sort of magic. She is a sorcerer after all. She can do things I only hear of in stories of old. [A melancholic smile appears on his face.] My brother Bran loves to hear them...
[Robb can see his hands tremble a little and he tells himself that there is nothing wrong with being afraid. And that there is nothing wrong with showing it either.]
That would be rather messy. I would not bestow a death sentence upon you. I am no king here.
[So all he does is watching and readying himself to pull away the second his skin would burn. And he smiles when it doesn’t. All he feels is warmth and the odd sensation that he is holding actual fire in his hands.]
I am not known for being good at judging people.
[There’s a bitter smile around his face. He surely misjudged lord Bolton there. Cunning he might be, but he never thought him a traitor.]
That is very true - I have seen and heard of magic far different from what my world has to offer here and elsewhere. I would not be surprised. [no, she would be - she's a magic nerd. She tilts her head] A younger brother?
[if she sees his hands trembling, she doesn't give it any attention; after all, he's trusting her with this, and as much as she teases, it does mean something.
What he says does strike a chord, though, and her smile is just a bit wry]
Well neither am I, but perhaps this is the start to better judgement, yes?
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So he gazes at the flame and cocks his head while his eyes narrow.]
I would burn my hand. Or do you know a spell that could undo the burn?
[He does not take the flame, he just stares at it.]
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[that's the simple way to put it. She's quickly learning that as familiar as magic is, even then all the different sorts are different to one another. She's never had to explain how it works, or why it does this or that, and yet here she's done it numerous times.
It's a nice change, she thinks. She loves talking about magic, and that people care enough to bother, whether it's out of interest or fear, well]
Magic can be seen as an - extension? - of a person's will. It does as it is commanded, just as a lord would command his men in battle.
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[He still looks at it with the wary eyes of a medieval farm boy, hesitant to move and even more hesitant to trust. She seems nice and probably is nice, but he does not know her well enough to trust her magic. Gods, he does not even trust the lady Granger’s magic and that has resulted in quite some difficulties.]
But that is not the same. [Robb shakes his head.] I am sure it is not. [Because he absolutely knows magic, absolute.] Magic is just for some people. I don’t think it has something to do with their will.
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[she feels like she's about to give a full on lesson about magic to this poor boy, and while she wouldn't mind, she doubts he wants to hear her go on and on about it. Nor does she want it to turn into an argument either, so she lets the spell fade to put him at ease]
It may not work that way in other worlds, no, but that is how it is in my world, depending upon the wizard or mage. [she makes a vague gesture] There is a difference between just casting a spell and controlling a spell. I have spent a great deal of time mastering my craft, which is why I have the control I do over spells like that. I cannot do that with all of my magic, though - just the fire spells.
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You are asking an awful lot of trust from me, my lady. [After saying that he focuses his gaze onto her face. He has to say that she looks rather beautiful in some sort of wild way. Not a dainty maid used to silks.
It is hard to let his wariness go but it helps when the flame disappears again.]
I thought they came hand in hand. [He remembers himself that Bran would have found this so very interesting. Gods, the boy would gobble up every word she’d say.] Uttering spells and controlling them. Because why would you utter spells and not be able to control the sorcery that comes from it?
You would make quite the bad sorcerer if you can do one thing but cannot follow through. It is like holding the best sword but not knowing what to do with it.
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Thankfully, there are very few wizards around. There is plenty of magic here, of course, but it works differently from mine. You may run into someone who will tell you everything opposite of what I just did, for all I know.
[she tilts her head, then gives him a quick grin]
Though, if I have not chased you off with my sorcery, you're welcome to build your bravery up so that you can come hold my spell.
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[Normally Robb does not doubt his bravery. But now he is here, away from what he has left behind at home and struggling with all that had been so normal to him at first, he wonders if he truly is brave enough.]
Ah... [There is hesitation in his voice.] Very well then. But if my hands end up scorched I have to take up my sword. [If he can hold one with burned hands.
Slowly he extends a hand towards her.] I hope it is wise of me to trust a stranger.
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[she wasn't expecting him to build his bravery so soon, but it does make her smile - not the mischievous sort, but a genuine one. She uncrosses her arms]
If your hands end up scorched I will bow my head to make the cut all the more easier.
[she murmurs under her breath, bringing the little flame back to life. And, as if the thing in her hand is a solid object, places it in his hand.
It's warm; comfortably so, and it simply hovers there above the palm of his hand. She drops her own hand and tilts her head at him, eyebrows raised as if to say "I told you so"]
You've chosen wisely, as I am the honest sort of stranger.
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[Robb can see his hands tremble a little and he tells himself that there is nothing wrong with being afraid. And that there is nothing wrong with showing it either.]
That would be rather messy. I would not bestow a death sentence upon you. I am no king here.
[So all he does is watching and readying himself to pull away the second his skin would burn. And he smiles when it doesn’t. All he feels is warmth and the odd sensation that he is holding actual fire in his hands.]
I am not known for being good at judging people.
[There’s a bitter smile around his face. He surely misjudged lord Bolton there. Cunning he might be, but he never thought him a traitor.]
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[if she sees his hands trembling, she doesn't give it any attention; after all, he's trusting her with this, and as much as she teases, it does mean something.
What he says does strike a chord, though, and her smile is just a bit wry]
Well neither am I, but perhaps this is the start to better judgement, yes?
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[He nods when she mentions his brother.]
Yes, Bran is his name. He is not here anymore. The lords of Atroma sent him back. [To misery and an inevitable end of his life.]
Different judgement. Not the one I used back in Westeros.
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[her expression turns a bit sympathetic, even if the smile remains] I am sorry to hear that. Should he return, you will have to introduce us, yes?
[she tilts her head, eyebrows raised]
Different, then.