faderift | [semi-open] hold onto me

WHO: Cade Harimann and YOU, also a few starters for specific people
WHAT: A thing has changed. Whether it's a good or bad thing remains to be seen.
WHEN: late Solace
WHERE: around Skyhold
NOTES: It's likely that some conversations will end up pertaining to things like suicide, child abuse/molestation, and so forth. Take care and feel free to ask first if you aren't sure about tagging in!

[open]

Early risers may have noticed a severely underdressed and clumsy Cade returning to his room just after sunrise on an otherwise typical day in late Solace. He had no shoes on, looked like he had just warn his sleep clothes out onto the battlements, and in fact appeared to be drunk. Perhaps Ruby was with him, perhaps she wasn't.

Or, you know. Maybe they didn't see anything at all.

I. Main Hall

If possible, Cade has gotten even hidier than before, resurfacing pretty much only for meals. The guy doesn't look good; he's skinnier than he should be, his skin paler, and the circles around his eyes darker. Needless to say, he sits alone, and eats as quickly as he can manage before disappearing again.

II. The Chapel

All of the above applies, though Cade usually goes to pray in the early morning or late at night, when he's less likely to be disturbed. He'll sit there on his knees for hours, and never seems to find any relief in it.

III. Not the Construction Areas

Though he has been assisting with the building efforts of the Inquisition's assorted laborers, after that morning he has been conspicuously absent. He can potentially be found in transit between the chapel, the main hall, and his tiny cell of a room up above the gardens, but never for long.

[for Beleth]

Unbeknownst to most, at least half the reason for Cade's absence is the fact that he made himself sick as a dog by sitting outside being sad in the cold all night. Since he'd almost literally rather die than ask for assistance, he has been keeping to his bed and leaving only when he absolutely has to, which is essentially to eat or compulsively pray or take care of basic hygiene.
what a dummy

[for Alistair]

With the note sent and presumably received, there is nothing left to be done. Cade can only assume that Alistair has made his decision about where they stand, and is at the very least grimly appreciative of being left alone.
He's eating by himself, a book laid open beside his bowl, as he sits placid and safe in the assumption that Alistair is definitely not anywhere near him at the moment. Absolutely not. I'm not hinting at anything YOU ARE

[hit me up if you want one! or just jump on in]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's a beat before Cade speaks again, in which he opens and closes his mouth several times, trying for words and failing to find them or the courage to speak them. The situation is complicated, and although it seems everyone in Thedas now knows his secret, Cade is desperate to shield it from those who still don't.
"Um," he stammers, "I... it..." A small part of him is angry with Zevran, for violating his trust and not caring, but a much larger part is, as usual, convinced it was all his own fault anyway. "...he did something I didn't agree with," he decides, tensing his jaw as he shakes his head. "...and... I don't have a handler. Right now." That ledge is starting to feel pretty attractive again.

James rests his index fingers on his lips, before concern flashing over his expression once more. That he was struggling to find words, James had found, was just a way of Cade looking to avoid talking about the real problem.

"Well, if he did something you didn't agree with, Cade, why didn't you talk to him about it? Zevran has always struck me as a man who is willing to listen."

Another pause, a longer one, while James closes his eyes. Damn those Seekers - damn them to the Black City and back again. He had told them - Aleron had told them - Cade needed help. Of course they hadn't done a damnable thing about it. Where was Nerva, anyways?

His eyes opened, and James answered briskly, "Well, then it seems you are under my direct care again, Cade. Which means we are going to get you sorted - physically and mentally. Since this arrangement with Zevran was actually helping you ... I think our first step is to work things out with him."

Cade looks like he wants to argue, but isn't confident that he has a right to complain or didn't somehow deserve what happened. When in doubt, it's generally easier to assume it's his fault.
When James is silent for a time, Cade becomes increasingly nervous, and is almost startled when the Commander speaks again. He pales at the thought of speaking to Zevran, especially about their arrangement, especially with a third party present, especially with that third party being his Knight-Commander. Maker only knows what this will yield.
Cade clears his throat as though to say something, but thinks better of it and looks away.

Sometimes, Cade, your face says exactly what you are thinking and it gives James the urge to shake you like a dog with a rag doll. Say something, argue, protest, show that you care what happens to you, man!

Still,, there was something in the way that he looked away, that had James adding, "We don't have to talk about what your arrangement is. In fact, all I want to do is make sure to mediate for both sides, so you can work together again. As for what you will do now ... I have use for you. Since taking on as the Inquisition's representative for the Templars, I've gotten three times the amount of paperwork. Do you have a decent writing hand?"

Arguing and protesting is for people with authority, or for people whose opinions matter, and Cade has little reason to believe either is true of himself.
Norrington does at least manage to reassure him slightly by not needing to know the details, but Cade is still not looking forward to the exchange. However, he can't disagree that it needs to happen. Something needs to happen. And his Knight-Commander is trying, so he has to try too.

He looks intrigued but cautious over the potential task, and gives a small nod, which he follows with "I've been told so, ser."

"Good. Then I am assigning you as my personal aide. If you do well, I can see that a promotion back to your former title is included." James takes out a piece of parchment, ink and a quill, starting to write the details of the order. "You will report to me every morning at nine. When I am at training with the other Templars, I will have you work with us to make sure that your sword arm stays sharp, but you will not be doing anything but fighting against dummies. We will start you off again with a wooden sword. After that, you'll see to it that my correspondence is taken care of - some people here I will have you deliver letters to personally. In the afternoons we will take care of reports, duty rosters, complaints and requests."

He looks up from his writing, giving Cade a thoughtful look, before asking, "Any questions?"

Cade is a bit shocked by this, but not unhappy. He watches Norrington write all the while the man is speaking, a glimmer of pleasant surprise in his tired gaze.

He has no real questions, just a rush of some foreign feeling that resembles relief. Maybe hope. "...truly, ser?" he asks, afraid of the answer, in case this is a joke or a dream.

James pauses, before both of his eyebrows raise together. After a moment, he quirks a faint smile on his lips. "Yes, Cade, truly. I believe it is time we showed a little more trust in one another, yes? And I ... do not like the thought of you alone. We are in a dark time, and it is better to stand together to find the light."

He snorts, as he continues writing, "Besides, I would like to have some time of my own to not be writing reports. You'll be doing me a huge favor."

It's as though he's been sitting in a shadowy cave, and somebody finally kindled a fire: the space hasn't warmed or illuminated completely, but there's a start. Cade sits up a little straighter, a bit of energy returning to his eyes as he nods. "Yes, ser," he says quickly, "I'd be honored to, ser."

James exhaled in relief himself, before his mouth curved up at the corners up at the corners. "Good, I am happy to hear it. Now, I want you to come to me ... with any concerns, any questions, any doubts. If you do not show up to work promptly, I will come, find you, and badger you until you do tell me what is wrong.'

This pleases Cade somewhat less, but he takes the man's meaning. A small nod follows, and another murmured "yes, ser."

[Want to just graft the talking-to-Zev log onto this one?]

Listen, Cade, you're not slipping through any more cracks. James is concerned enough about you already. "Very good. Now. Let's go find Zevran, shall we?"

And onward they go.
Cade doesn't know immediately where to find Zevran, but since Alistair is sort of allowing him near the Warden camp these days, it's easy enough to go poking around in places he can at least guess the elf will be. A little less skittish with the Knight-Commander in his company, Cade is able to make his way through most of the Keep without too much anxiety, at least not beyond what's already building in his gut from the prospect of talking to Zevran again.
But then they find him. Cade clears his throat awkwardly, stalling in place of what might eventually be a greeting.

Well, James has no need to stall. In fact he is altogether pleased to see the assassin, and it's clear in his respectful bow and the glow of his eyes as he smiles at the other man. "A good day to you, Master Zevran. A pleasure, as always, to see you again."

[semi-open] hold onto me

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