Entry tags:
No Maker, No Master
WHO: Cade & Cullen
WHAT: Blond Templar Situational Discussion Power Hour
WHEN: After most people have returned from the Fallow Mire.
WHERE: Skyhold dungeon
NOTES:I'm down with thread-hopping for spies and/or eavesdroppers if you should feel so inclined.
WHAT: Blond Templar Situational Discussion Power Hour
WHEN: After most people have returned from the Fallow Mire.
WHERE: Skyhold dungeon
NOTES:I'm down with thread-hopping for spies and/or eavesdroppers if you should feel so inclined.
Nobody really knew what to do with the Templar in the cell. He showed no intention of harming anyone further, and also seemed, strangely, to have accepted his position and made no argument as to why he should be released. Like a crated hound, Cade seemed to take solace in this cold, quiet place as an alternative to going back up into the world and being faced with more apostates that he couldn't wrangle. The Inquisition guards knew this much: if released, he might attack again, whether in his right mind or not, and they couldn't risk it until he was dealt with by someone of a higher authority.
Cade's extremities shook from lack of lyrium, his eyes glazed and his head throbbed, and he knew that he could die from this, but he accepted it. He had already failed his men and his Order; there was no glory left for him, and surely the Maker had turned His eye away. All there was left to do was wait, either for death or for absolution.
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A night in a cell should calm tempers, and the next morn found Cullen heading down there to visit the man. "I heard it was quite the spectacle you put on."
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Cade was dozing in the corner when he heard a voice, and snapped to attention with a haste that was almost uncanny. As soon as he had found his feet, he dropped to one knee in deference to whom he previously understood to be the Knight-Captain.
"My apologies, Ser," he said hoarsely, keeping his gaze lowered. Though he wanted to follow with a qualifier: I was mistaken, I don't understand what's going on, I'm half-crazy from withdrawals; he had never liked to make excuses, regardless of their validity.
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Cullen was quiet for a few moments after the apology, still trying to decide exactly what he was going to do with the man. He can't fault him for the way he acted from withdrawal. "Up on your feet. You don't need to kneel to me."
Cullen's tone is hard, but not harsh. "I don't need apologies, I need answers. What is your name?"
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When the guard beings the keys over, Cullen makes short work of opening the door. "We have several options, considering your current situation."
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"Ser," he said, deferentially prompting him to continue.
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The obvious option, so to speak, a logical one in any Templar's eyes. "Or, you wean yourself off of the lyrium and we take it from there. It's hard, and there are significant side effects, but it can be done."
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He opened his mouth to protest, and closed it again, too taken aback to even formulate a question. Did Cullen realize he was a Templar? Was Cullen not a Templar? What kind of loony bin had he staggered into?
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Bombshell dropped, and Cullen's thankful that none of the other guards are around to hear him. No one but Cassandra knows of his decision, and he still fights with it every day. "The choice is yours."
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He glanced over the man, amazed that he was in as good of condition as he was. "I-- ...I can't imagine I could and still be useful to you, ser."
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"Then by all means, continue taking the lyrium. You are not forced into doing anything you don't wish to do."
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