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WHO: Nerva Lecuyer and literally anyone who wants in on the fun
WHAT: A Templar escorting two Tranquil arrives at Skyhold
WHEN: From nowish and open to people as they come back from the Mire
WHERE: The courtyard
NOTES: lots of hatred

It was incredibly cold, and getting colder, but the deep fur cloak around her shoulders insulated her armour and kept most of the wind off, so it was bearable. Her charges, however - two Tranquil that she had rescued as she fled from the Templars - were difficult. They would not mind the cold even if it was killing them, so she had to be extra vigilant in checking them over for frostbite every night that they made camp. When they finally made it to Skyhold, her soul was as exhausted as her body, and she only made a very cursory introduction before pleading for a place to lay her head, and for protection for the Tranquil. Once she had both, she slept for a long time.

The next morning was bright and clear, and the air felt warmer in the castle despite the early winter that stormed in the mountains around them. She was at a loss, for a few minutes, as to what she should be doing - the entire Inquistion unfamiliar and disconcerting. So few templars, and so many mages, coming and going freely, with no regulation or safety structures in place...

She would take her concerns directly to the leaders of the Inquisition, once she better understood the situation. Until then, it was time to get her bearings.

Training in the courtyard made things easier - let her take her mind off of everything and focus only on shield and blade. She had to pause, however, as she found that her two charges were watching her, waiting for orders.

"The Inquisition is our Order now," she told them solemnly. "You do not report to me, but I am at your disposal if you are in need of any assistance." She knew that assistance would never be requested, but she would offer it again, when she saw them.

Later, she would spend a long time in the Chantry, trying to find some kind of guidance.

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Being that it had been a few Inquisition guards who had done the hauling of this Templar away from the courtyard, it was likely they did simply just look for the armor. And here it was!
Cade's eyes shifted toward the cell door when the woman knocked, and he rose from the floor to make his way toward her with the air of a guilty hound. Never mind that a cursory glance over her armor told him he probably outranked her; she was out there and he was in here, and that was all the rank he currently needed.
"Ser," he greeted hoarsely.

"Why are you in here?" She asked, the words blunt and nearly pointed, her face stone. It was hard to be impressed by the predicament. There were so few of them, and here one was, in a cell, making both her job and everyone else's that much harder.

So she didn't bother with pleasantries.

Cade squared his shoulders and bowed his head, fully recognizing and regretting the difficulty of the situation.
"I came from the front, in the Hinterlands," he reported, his voice low and serious, "and was immediately accosted by two mages on my arrival. I acted rashly." He offered no excuses, though Nerva may have noticed by the occasional shudder of his body and twitch in his face that he was suffering from lyrium withdrawal as well.

"Define 'acting rashly'," She said, her tone sharp. "If I have to speak for you, I need to know what happened, and why."

And whether or not the insanity that had infected so many of the other templars had infected him, as well.

Cade resisted a flinch at her tone. It was no less than he deserved, he reasoned.
"I silenced them," he dutifully replied, "..and I..." had something of a full-blown panic attack in plain view, but he had no words to describe what had happened other than, "...lost my... wits." It was a shameful thing for a Templar have done, and he lifted his eyes miserably to watch her face for a moment.
"I lost my men to maleficarum in Redcliffe," he said tentatively, "I understand they are... not to be killed here. I..." He swallowed hard, and ran a shaking hand through his messy curls. "... I am at the mercy of the Inquisition."

She frowned, her expression finally changing from the stone it had taken before into one closer to confusion. That didn't sound like the madness she had seen - especially not the fact that he seemed aware of it. It sounded more like battle fatigue, from what she knew of it. When men saw too much war that their minds broke.

"They regard the mages here as free agents and allies," She agreed, the tone blunt but there was no longer quite the same edge of iron. "I am sorry, to hear of your men. Did you kill the mages who accosted you?" It wasn't an accusation, just a question.

Cade's brow furrowed at her assertion of the mages' position here-- how could this be, after Kirkwall?-- but he shook his head. "Not here," he replied softly. He had killed plenty in Redcliffe, and was struck with the uneasy notion that he may not have done the right thing in that scenario either.

That allowed her to relax slightly - the tenseness easing out of her spine slightly while she nodded.

"Then I expect the Inquisition will be lenient," She mused, mostly for his benefit rather than for hers.

She looked at him again - really looked at him - and in doing so it was hard not to notice the tells of the withdrawal in the way his hands shook, the odd look in his eye. "You travelled here with the intent of joining the Inquisition's forces, correct?"

Cade was somewhat relieved by her assumption, but couldn't rid himself of tension. He had a constant nagging feeling that the other shoe would drop soon, that he wasn't out of the woods yet, whether it pertained to being punished or simply having to confront mages on new terms.
He shook his head with a tired frown. "I was told Knight-Captain Cullen had gone to Haven," he quietly explained, "to be a Commander. And when I found only wreckage in Haven, I was directed here. I hoped..." Even now, his reasoning felt dubious. "...I hoped, after what became of Knight-Commander Meredith, he would have a plan." As he spoke, disappointment mingled with fear.

That made her twitch, visibly. "You are from the circle in Kirkwall," She realised - though it was said more as an admonishment. She'd heard stories.

Disgraceful stories. Disgusting ones.

"You will not find Knight-Commander Meredith's name a welcome one here," She said bluntly. "And I hope you do not share her methods, or you will find your life made very difficult."

Cade met her eyes nervously, then immediately looked away. Knight-Commander Meredith had been his commanding officer. To speak against her, in life or in death, would be unthinkable, despite her mistakes. He stood silently for several moments, unsure of what to say without offending this woman more or betraying his duty to the deceased commander.

"Kirkwall was destroyed by maleficarum," he said a bit uncertainly-- did he really need to explain to a fellow Templar what had happened? "...the First Enchanter used blood magic to become a monster." He shuddered at the memory.

"Which would never have happened if your Knight-Commander hadn't been abusing her power, and her charges." It was a simplification, of course it was. Nerva always considered these things in black and white terms, and she had no love of authority that abused its power.

There was a reason she was here, and not with her own Knight-Commander.

"Weilding the solemn and honourable Rite of Tranquillity like a mace--" She cut off, making a Disgusted Sound.

"What more could she have expected? If you kick a dog, it will bite."

A flush of anger spread over Cade's pale face, and though it very briefly looked as though he would argue, he sighed it out and dropped his gaze. He was in no position to argue, even if she was wrong. He knew too well the truth of her words, having been the kicked dog more than once in his life, not that he'd ever admit it.

He was at a loss for words, and stared wearily at the ground by Nerva's feet.

She let him stew in his silence for a long moment, before she sighed, heavily, and leaned her head against the bars.

"We have all done things that we regret, in this war," She said finally, decisively, as if she had passed judgement upon him, and decided to give him reprieve. From what, it wasn't clear. Her own opinion of him?

"But we must focus now on working together, on rebuilding the order into something beyond reproach."

Cade's eyes shifted back to her when she spoke, and he watched her warily, but gave a small nod in agreement. "We have a duty to uphold," he said softly, "we swore to it when we entered this life." An oath he had never taken lightly.

"Yes," she agreed, with a solemn nod, and then sighed.

"I will attempt to speak on your behalf. We do not have the resources to keep those who should be our friends jailed. But my voice here means little, so I would not put your faith in it."

Cade hesitated, then nodded. Even if the world had stopped making sense, there were still other Templars who understood.
"I appreciate it all the same," he said, with a look that nearly resembled a smile.

Nerva didn't seem to be moved by the smile - at least at first - until a very small, cautious, one crawled up her lips. A reassurance, more than anything else, because he still looked like a kicked puppy, and - most importantly - whatever else, they were comrades in arms.

She offered a tight bow.

"Then I shall take my leave. I hope to see you released soon," She added, but didn't wait for more pleasantries - giving him one final appraising look before leaving the way she had come.

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