faderift | [ CLOSED ] I'm in here, can anybody see me?

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[ CLOSED ] I'm in here, can anybody see me?

WHO: Cade, Nerva, Zevran
WHAT: Discussing some delicate details
WHEN: After Zevran Returns from Antiva
WHERE: Cade's Room
NOTES: Self flagellation, flogging as therapy (kind of), vaguely BDSM lifestyle related setup.

Nerva's idea, truly, to meet Cade in his room. To discuss this where he would either feel his most safe or his most Vulnerable- Zevran honestly could not say. He kept to the shadows out of habit and followed along behind her as she made her way to the door, as she knocked and was given leave to enter by the Tranquil that tended Cade night and day.

Zevran slipped in afterward, standing off to the side, silent and unobtrusive.

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"So you, keeping with the vows taken to serve man and protect them, were trying to keep your fellows from being murderous bandits and bastards. They failed to listen to reason, followed a greedy man, you killed them." Zevran shrugged. "In your shoes I would have done the same. You did due diligence by attempting to control them. It is not your failing if their greed overruled their good sense. They became bandits and bastards; you handled them as such. Where in this does the sin become yours?"

A lack of proper leadership? Hardly. Zevran squeezed Cade's hand tighter- wanting to reach up and smooth his hair out of his face but- he'd said only the hand. So he shall keep to only the hand.

"How is this your failure?" He did everything that had been expected of him.

Cade hung his head, glancing at their hands but then diverting his gaze to the stone floor. "I was in charge of them," he weakly replied, "they were my responsibility. I..." He shook his head. "I was made Knight-Lieutenant when the acting one was demoted for drunkenness. It was a... superficial title, I was never... never supposed to inherit command." He had, more or less, been told just that.
"..I didn't do my job. And so many died as a result." He sniffed wetly, and as he lifted his other hand to press at his eyes, he realized he still didn't have a shirt on.

Oh yeah.

He looked again at Zevran, this time with a new awareness-- not that he hadn't been aware before that, but he had been so wrapped up in himself that he'd actually forgotten what they'd been doing, why they were here. His gaze fell to the flogger, then past it, as he found himself at a loss for words.

"And yet you were, and yet you attempted to do as was your right and your duty- to ensure they fell in line and weren't complete bags of shit. It is not your fault that they failed. Were you commander or someone else- they would have failed all the same. Greed sinks its hooks deep into men of all sorts. Their sin? Is not on your hands." He would not sit here and listen to such things.

He could not help but wonder how many have done just that- or did not care.

"Are you here once more?" He offered an apple as he had last time, not sliced as knives right now? Not the best idea.

Cade didn't disagree right away, instead just watching Zevran thoughtfully. He didn't necessarily agree either, but the reassurance had jogged something strange in his memory: something said to him by a boy whose face he couldn't recall.

You were able to let love in, once.

He took the apple with mild hesitation, but nodded the affirmative, and just held it in his hand for a moment as he looked at it, his eyes distant.

There was a place for it. There still is.

A question swelled in him, but he was almost too afraid to ask it. He opened his mouth, took a breath, closed it again, tried again, then pursed his lips and looked away for a moment. Then he forced the words out.
"If this weren't about preventing... another incident," he began, "would you still...?" He trailed off, the word 'care' unspoken. If the answer was no, he wouldn't be too thrown by it; that was just how things were.

"Still...?" Cade would have to use his words. Still flog? Still mind him? Still give half a damn? Without context he couldn't sort out exactly what it was Cade meant to ask. There were too many variables and he still was not quite able to pick out what mattered most to Cade in all this.

The structure, the contact, the understanding that came from someone that endured what he lived through? Someone that worked around it?

"Still what, Cade?" He cannot answer without knowing. Moreover? He would not. One wrong word in all this? And what little progress they've made? Will come tumbling down.

Cade nearly lost his nerve when Zevran pressed him. Maybe it was stupid, maybe he was wrong to guess. But nobody had ever listened to him before.
"...care," he timidly concluded, glancing at Zevran's face and then away again. Assuming he had ever cared.

Only all his years of training kept his face open and empathetic. Kind. Caring. It was a trick he'd learned as a child in the Crows, to project empathy. He...perhaps might be bothered to assist were Cade not a danger, if he knew what he'd endured. But one was tied deeply to the other. After a moment's consideration- not so immediate as to seem insincere, not so lengthy a pause to seem an outright lie, he murmured. "Yes."

Whether or not Zevran's answer was sincere, Cade needed to believe it, so he chose to. Otherwise, it would mean life was pointless again, he was unsalvageable. Disposable.
He didn't press. Instead he just nodded, looked away again, and bit carefully into the apple, since it was given to him and this was expected. He wasn't even sure what he had wanted to come from the exchange, because now he proceeded to sit there in awkward silence, his back smarting and his hand still under Zevran's, the absurdity of the situation slowly encroaching on him.

Then he remembered something. The thing that had started the fuss in the first place.

"...Seiler slammed me in the back with his shield," he said sheepishly, "...he had the others distract me." As if that knowledge suddenly made it his fault, Cade quickly added, "...I didn't know that would happen. Just now."

Idly, for there was no way for the gesture to be but idle, Zevran rubbed his thumb back and forth across Cade's knuckles. Something stable and soothing- as much for himself as it was for Cade. He did not enjoy knowing he'd put someone back into such a place. He hated it when he slipped himself from now to then, whenever or whatever then might have been.

At least he'd been attentive enough to stop before more damage was done.

"That would explain it. We shall avoid the flogger from now on, yes? You got more out of the cat." He stopped himself from saying 'enjoyed' as that had been a large point of contention in the past. Better not to dig into that particular argument. "They would take the lash to us often, in the Crows. Both for training and in the bedroom. It took months for me to stop associating it with them, to learn to like the sting. The first time surprised me as well, when I went somewhere that should have been good or at least useful to that memory."

Cade's hand tensed under the movement, but he was determined not to be a bigger mess. It was just a hand, he told himself, even if his entire awareness seemed to center on that one point of stimulation.

He blinked a few times and shook himself out of it. "Um," he replied, "yes. All right." Remembering the apple, he took another bite of it and chewed thoughtfully. He was going through an odd mix of emotions, between feeling slightly reassured and enduring the tension he could still feel in himself, coming down from the flashback, and quieting the animalistic terror it had woken in him. But he was here, on the ground, in a tower. With an apple. And a man stroking his hand.

"..should I, um..." he began, and motioned awkwardly toward the wall. He'd interrupted with his dramatics, but that didn't mean they were done. At least as far as he knew.

Little things. Baby steps. Little by little discussing what he'd endured- little by little becoming accustomed to touch that was nonsexual and nonthreatening. It seemed to be working.

"Do you wish to?" Punishment is punishment, penance is penance, but he's been pushed into something he did not want, something they did not agree on. But should Cade truly be up for another round? He would get the cat, see what happened.

It worked better, last time. For both of them.

Without confirmation or a request to release it- Zevran continues to hold Cade's hand, his grip loosening somewhat. More than enough for Cade to let go if he so wished.

Cade took stock of the current state of his back, and, with a twinge of actual hesitation creeping through his usual hateful masochism, he determined that he could deal with more. Nothing had been... resolved, after all-- he had messed it up before the ritual could be concluded. He was still on the hook.
When Zevran loosened his grip, Cade took it as a cue to withdraw his hand, which he then used to support himself as he got up off the floor. He took one more bite of the apple before he carefully set it on the table with the implements, brushed his hands off, and went back into position against the wall.
He was still chewing as he stared at it, waiting, but with more determination than nervousness. He had to do it, and he had to do it right, or he was just as cowardly and worthless as everyone thought. ...or at least he did.

"...You truly are remarkable, you know that?" That he was determined to continue on despite the jarring moment? Despite being shaken? Zevran allowed real pride to seep into his voice- some genuine appreciation for Cade. It seemed to do him some good to hear such things and Zevran? Was pleased to survive.

"We were on eighteen. Would you like to continue from there with the cat, or start fresh?" If he started fresh Zevran would wish to offer him some of an elfroot potion, give him a cleaner slate to mark up.

Zevran's tone took him by surprise, and he looked back at the elf to find that it wasn't a joke. This elicited a rare, small but sincere smile from Cade, and he faced forward again, committed to proving Zevran right.

"...um.. the first one," he decided. Despite his bravado, even he knew it was probably best to avoid the thing that had made him feel like he was dying.

"Then you owe me two strikes more, four sips of elfroot, and a meeting in the morning to check your back." That was all he was obligated to endure. Zevran levered himself to his feet and set the flogger aside, taking up instead the cat.

"If you wish this to stop?" Starting fresh without quite starting fresh.

Cade was almost disappointed by the number, but he decided instead to focus on doing everything else right. "I'll say stop," he dutifully responded, feeling a twinge of guilt for having not been able to earlier.
But he was going to do it right this time. No mistakes. He had to be remarkable.

"And if you want more, after the two? What do you say?" Because that will always be an option if he wished it. Zevran rolled out his shoulder, swinging his cat through the air with a confident hiss. Adjusting to the new weight, the new flick.

Cade actually couldn't recall having agreed on anything specific, but he did remember what he'd said the last time. "..more?" he guessed.

"Very good. Two, and then I check in. Are you ready?" As soon as Cade said as such or gave sign, he swung. A sharp crack on each shoulder, that stinging blow from days ago. Two blows, as promised- and he checked in.

"Cade?"

On an already sore back, the new strikes were like being slashed with knives. He jumped in surprise with an undignified yelp, then settled back again, blushing. Well... once again, he was reminded that he wasn't quite as tough as he imagined.
He nodded anyway, exhaling before murmuring, "more." There was an awful burning on his shoulders, but he would endure it.

"As you wish." He would not second guess Cade in this- another five lashes across his shoulders- though not quite with as much force as he had the last time he'd done this- or as much as he'd used with the flogger. It'd bruised him, left him oversensitive. He did not need to lean into each crack of the Cat to give him what he wanted.

Cade bit his lip and balled his hands into fists against the wall, straining to keep himself from writhing. This was actually quite a bit worse than what it had been with the flogger, but at least this was its own kind of pain, not reminiscent of being struck by another person. Not a pain that would send him to that place again.
It still hurt like Maferath's balls, and by the time the five strokes were completed, Cade was in tears and trying to hold himself together.

"Deep breaths, Cade." The next swing and hiss of the Cat's tails ended not with a blow upon his back but flicking over Zevran's shoulder. Not stopping, not yet- but offering the man a break. "You are doing well."

Obediently, Cade drew in and sighed out a shuddering breath, taking a moment to wipe his face with his forearm and re-brace himself against the wall. He could do it, he was doing well. Zevran said so, and he wouldn't let him down.

"Just like that." Again that warmth, again that approval thick in his voice as he swung the Cat free and readied himself for another five blows. Half force, working relatively light and easy across Cade's shoulders and upper back.

[ CLOSED ] I'm in here, can anybody see me?

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