#Narinder my symbol and my sponge for all religious trauma

[iridiss]

I want a (non-canon compliant) Narinder whose gentle.

I want a Narinder who was once a kitten, newly crowned immortal, under Shamura’s careful mentorship. Who grew up the hard way, who learned you have to be rough, loud, mean, manipulative, and maniacal, you have to be bloody and violent and cruel, in order to survive in this world. In order to survive against Leshy and Heket’s brutality and Kallamar’s back-handed cunning. He learned from a family cruel and cold that love was a fool’s game, that sentiment was insignificant, that caring was weakness. So he scoffed at caring for anybody at all and learned how to break and toy with people as if they were dolls, made only for his own consumption and desire. That’s what his siblings told him, that’s what Shamura told him, that’s what his subjects and the fight to survive told him.

But he never saw his toys fit for anything more than the most necessary use, he never let them come any closer than professional arms-reach business, and he made sure to throw them away the second they were no longer strictly necessary. And he hated the cruelty of his siblings. He hated how they treated him, he hated how they made him fight for his fair share. And then he kept rebelling against the doctrine of the Old Faith. He would take the cruel, old, traditional rules of how one was supposed to act, and he would take them more as loose suggestions than anything severely concrete that you had to live by. He would start making up his own rules, or ignoring other rules that he simply didn’t like or deemed “inconvenient.”

He quickly became the black sheep of the “family.”

And then the Gods of The Old Faith betrayed him. And everything he was ever taught became a horrible lie. Everything became unjust. Everything turned into a false, corrupted kingdom that had to be torn down, that he could fix, that he could replace with something better. He tore it all down, violently lashing out against the family he had trusted, the family he had followed to the end of the road at his own expense, tearing them apart with his own two hands, because the scars he bore over the years became far too fucking loud to bear. Because everything had been a lie all along. Everything had been wrong, this whole damn time.

And they killed him for it. He screamed so loud about their lies that they simply had to smother the sound. They murdered their own brother—if he was ever a real “brother” to them at all, or nothing more than another religious heir to a crooked throne.

He was a God turned exiled heretic.

So he’d make his own fucking kingdom instead. He would undo everything, and start anew, following the doctrine he always knew was better. What he thought was superior. But problem is, it’s not that easy to shake off the entirety of one’s religious upbringing overnight. He was still clinging on. He would scream and shout about the incongruities and arrogance of The Old Faith all damn day—but then he’d keep Aym and Baal, a gift from his old mentor and oldest sibling, close to his side. He would call them fools and tyrants and wretched liars, but he’d remember the Darkwood flowers with a fondness, yearning to stand in his brother’s flower fields again someday. He would stay in the Lamb’s cult, when he could easily become a constant dissenter and leave like any other follower, when he could attack them, maybe even kill them, at any given moment. He doesn’t. He stays. He clings on to the fondness. He never fully let go of that old sentimental feeling.

I want a Narinder who doesn’t understand what love looks like, because the closest thing he’d ever known to true, honest love growing up was the scraps he’d receive from a withdrawn and uncertain Shamura. Those rare moments where Shamura was kind, warm, gentle, full of love, when he’d listen to the lullabies and the poems that they would weave to put him to sleep, when he’d be wrapped up in the blankets of their webs and their nests. When they would give him gifts.

When they gave him their final gift.

He doesn’t understand love. He was trained to view it as weakness. He still feels deeply, severely insecure about showing said weakness, he doesn’t want to face the severe and violent consequences of welcoming it. There’s a part in him deep down that understands devotion, that already internally understands what real trust, respect, loyalty, and integrity looks like. But it’s buried deep, under layers upon layers of indoctrination, manipulation, fear, insecurity, doubt, ungodly amounts of pain, and rage. He has enough of a natural moral compass to be able to tell when someone’s entire belief system is flawed or fucked up, and he has enough justice in him to want to tear the entire damn world apart from the ground up. Even if it’s just in the name of avenging the kitten in him that was forced to die all those centuries ago.

He isn’t aware of it. He doesn’t understand what’s going on inside of him. He’s never even taken an introspective glance at himself and why he feels everything that he does, he’s never even asked himself why everything hurts so much beyond the simple “my siblings betrayed me, therefore they all must die as they killed me” surface level. Frankly he’s too scared to look, so he pushed it all away and easily leans on the grinning, devilish, mean mask he always depended on before.

Then I want a Lamb that’s everything he ever needed. Literally, yes, as the vessel prophesied to save him, but also emotionally.

The Lamb had everything taken away from them by The Old Faith. They were killed and thrown away to Narinder’s feet like a broken toy. They want to destroy the doctrine of the Old Faith, they want to rip the world apart from the ground up and completely start anew. They share Narinder’s moral core, his drive for justice, his drive for revenge.

But they also learn, through their own cult, how to rule with love and mercy. They save and spare each follower individually, they marry their own followers, they cook for them, clean for them, house them, decorate for them, they love their followers. They learn that there is value and strength in utilizing the “sentiment and care” that the Bishops deemed as weakness. Literally: one of the best and most overpowered mechanics of the game is building your friendship level with your followers. You can’t live without them. You are their servant as much as they are one to you.

And when Narinder demonstrates his upbringing at its fullest by betraying Lamb and throwing them away like they were nothing more than a toy—The Lamb spares him, too.

I want to express to you how much that means, especially to him. I mean, hell, Narinder wasn’t spared by his own family. But instead, this tool, now proven Almighty God, gave him a level of grace that he wasn’t even allowed to fathom before. There couldn’t be a stronger, faster way to take a wake-up-sledgehammer to someone’s childhood manipulation. The Lamb was sent to destroy every last trace of the Old Faith, and I don’t think Narinder ever considered the extent of what that entailed.

He’d been lied to his entire childhood, being told that heart was weakness, that kindness would be his downfall, that sentiment was heresy. And yet here was a God besting him and every other deity/bishop in the land, and still cleaning up their servants’ shit with a broom. And I like to think that Narinder would undergo a massive change during his time in the cult.

He’d start off hostile and vicious and mean, because he’s still convinced that the Lamb betrayed him and “betrayal” is kind of a very emotionally heated topic for the guy right now. Even if the Lamb actually did the opposite of what his siblings did to him. He’s also terrified, confused, lost, and he certainly doesn’t trust any of the flowery, overly friendly mortals getting all touchy-feely with him.

But maybe he starts to show a little more wistfulness and nostalgia through his side-quests, maybe he’s trying to gauge how trustworthy the Lamb is by asking them to bring him special items from his childhood, and when they follow suit, he dips his toe in the water and shows just a little bit more of his heart, a tiny, itty bitty fragment. And then they don’t hurt him for it. They treat him with the same kindness they give to all of their followers.

And over time, he starts to see that the Lamb’s dominion is one of safety. All of their safety had been violently torn from them in the hunt for the last lamb, so now they do everything in their power to make their cult a home. And they welcome Narinder into that home, and Narinder is safe, and he’s loved, and he’s taken care of, and he’s respected, and he becomes one with the community. The Lamb is able to rule like this and still keep their power. And actually, their power is tripled by their bond with their people! Their kindness literally becomes a strength, and Narinder has never seen anything like it before, but they pull it off! In fact, the Lamb literally defied and beat Narinder into the ground because they weren’t willing to give up their home and their people.

I think he’d come to see The Lamb very differently over time. He’d go from seeing them only as an insignificant weapon for someone else’s use (possibly projecting a lot onto them), to bring in total awe of them, to learning that they’re trustworthy and safe, to seeing them as an equal.

I think they’d be two halves of the same whole. They understand each other in ways that no one else ever will. They’re the Gods of Death, past and future, they belong to the same power. They sit on this throne together. They teach each other everything they ever needed. They’re immortals together. Lamb once served Narinder in total devotion, then Narinder served Lamb in total devotion, and now they’re equals in every conceivable way. They have literally trusted each other with their lives. They were forged in very similar religious trauma and bloodshed, they were there at each other’s darkest time, working as a team. They’re vengeance-bonded. They saved each other. They spared each other, gave the other a second chance. They made each other better. Bonded in blood, divine vows, death, and resurrection. They are THE POWER TEAM.

As their bond grows, Narinder would end up letting his repressed soft side shine through. I can see him allowing himself to be kind for the first time, learning to recognize that not only is it safe for him to care here, it’s fully embraced and encouraged. The Lamb will punish him if he’s too mean to one of their followers. He can be gentle here, he can let his guard down and unwind. So he does, and he becomes a whole new cat. The Lamb eventually trusts him with leadership positions in the cult, until they’re ruling side by side, as they should. Narinder moves on from any desperate reach for power, because he’s secure enough in himself to know he doesn’t need to fight for it anymore. He would fight and die for Lamb as much as they would fight and die for him. They’ve given him true sanctuary, true family. True devotion.