[Open] Where There Is No Wine

[judgemewhole]

WHO: James Norrington and You. Yes you.
WHAT: Drinking wine solves everything. Or at least that is what James is trying out this month.
WHEN: After the Tevinter debacle
WHERE: The Blooming Rose - he's only there for the good vintages and the chess games, kids.
NOTES: Warnings for talk of torture, bloodshed, and general warning for drunk James

There are times in one's life where one simply wants to blot out a few of the worse hours of their lives. For fewer, it is days, perhaps even weeks. Very few want to blot out about four months worth of time from their memory, but after returning, barely, from Tevinter?

James Norrington, Knight Commander and 'fed-up with being calm, polite, and gritting his teeth', had decided to get absolutely and totally shit-faced. He was also going to get shit-faced in the best brothel in all of Kirkwall, but honestly it was because their wine cellar was second to none, and all of the ... employees of the establishment were more than willing to get 'paid' for their time with a glass of wine and a good chess game.

He didn't just disappear from his office. He wasn't off to have a bender and never be seen again. There was a note tacked to the door of his quarters, and his office, in the same bold print so anyone could find him if they really desired to.

It said simply, Off to share the Maker's love at the Blooming Rose. Blessing the fallen with holy wine. Please join if you are looking to save the sinners and enjoy a good Red from Antiva. - J. Norrington

He was saving them, persay. They wouldn't have to sell their bodies for at least an hour or two while playing chess with James. It totally counted as an act of charity from a member of the Templar Order. If he got to drink wine along with it, well, he was just blessing himself.

He needed a lot of damned blessings.

Comments

[onlyhymns]

It's been a while since they spoke-- in fact, it may not have been since Cade was kicked off the force. He doesn't really know what's going on with the other Templars at any given moment, something he is achingly aware of even at the best of times.
"What happened?" is all he asks, in a low and private voice. If there's one thing for which Cade can always be trusted, it's not running his mouth.

[judgemewhole]

It has been - at least that long. At least in James's recollection, and his recollection is vast. He looks over at the other man, with his permanently young face. If anyone could understand ... well. He suppose it would be Cade. He too, had been used and abused by the system.

So he wordlessly pulled up his sleeve, and removed the wrapping. Showed off the brand, set deep into his skin. "Do you know the mage Benedict? The one who came with the Venatori, a year or so ago?" He wouldn't even say their given name out-loud, but he assumed that Cade would know. Benedict was ... distinct.

"On the mission to return him, his mother set up an ambush for myself, Ser Coupe and Ser Ashlocke." He stops, closing his eyes, still able to taste the sand on his tongue, smell the blood. Watch as those brutes pulled Coupe away by her hair ... "We were tied up, tortured, and then marked ... with this. It is a brand of slavery, and if we were to show it in Tevinter we would be marked for death as runaway slaves."

[onlyhymns]

This is not entirely what Cade expected from their exchange, and he finds himself staring at the brand in mute shock. Wren too, and Simon? None of them have spoken a word of it.
Though he slowly moves to steady James' arm and get a better look, Cade doesn't touch it, instead just taking in what he sees, in the low light, cogs turning in his mind.
"How is he still here?" he asks, only loudly enough for Norrington to hear. "Surely this-- this can't be allowed."

[judgemewhole]

James covers the mark back up again, knowing that while he had promised not to tell anyone in the Inquisition brass .... well. Cade he could trust to keep this secret, because of what he was about to say next.

"I would think it obvious, Cade. Because Ser Coupe needs him, for whatever reason, to be her puppet on a Tevinter string. She is working for the Chantry, and that is what the Chantry wishes." An elegant, slow shrug, as he starts to amble back to the docks.

"As per usual, Templars are merely tools to the Chantry Mothers." Funny he can't even have it in him to be bitter. He is just weary of the whole damned thing.

[onlyhymns]

"Ser Coupe?" Cade repeats, somewhat disbelieving. When has she ever had a reason to work against the other Templars? Unless...?
"...the Templars are an arm of the Chantry," he says in the meantime, as a reminder. It's true that that's sometimes not a fair burden, but that's who they are, what they do.

[judgemewhole]

"We are an arm of the Chantry." He sighed deeply, "As of late though, we are used as a blunt force instrument of trauma, instead of our true purpose." He amends, because Cade is Cade. "Rather, there are corrupt individuals, who would use our ways against us. Hopefully we shall soon have a Divine who will be able to cleanse them from our Chantry, and we will have a better, brighter future."

Great Maker, he hoped so.

[onlyhymns]

Cade knows Norrington isn't lying, but it's still troubling to hear. "...who?" he asks uncertainly, then adds, "Ser Coupe?"

[judgemewhole]

Here, Norrington paused, then sighed heavily. "I always think that Ser Coupe is manipulating something - and I have always found her lack of faith ... disturbing, but I also know she has the right intentions."

He looked over at Cade once more, somberly, "I am just not sure if she knows how to act on them without destroying someone else in the process."

[onlyhymns]

On the one hand, Cade is smart enough to recognize that there are undercurrents and machinations to everything within or without the Order, and that the higher-ups don't always agree. But on the other hand, it's quite strange to hear this about the one person who stood fast when the Order abandoned him.
"Maybe it's because they need to be destroyed," he says, curtly, before he can stop himself.

[judgemewhole]

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. All I know, Cade, is that in our recent history of destroying places, people, and things ... all we have seem to have wrought is our own decimation." James paused, then added, "Perhaps in time, our own destruction. The center will not hold, unless we give it something to support."

[onlyhymns]

James is drunk, and he's waxing poetic, and Cade finds that perhaps this whole endeavor was ridiculous. Shaking his head, he steps away from his former Knight-Commander, and turns back to give a quiet utterance:
"Your."
He clears his throat.
"Your own destruction."

It was a mistake to come here, to involve himself with this. Unless James makes an effort to stop him, Cade turns and goes.

[judgemewhole]

The look on James's face is weary, but knowing. You asked, Cade. When you ask, you may just receive.

"Yes, mine. Not yours."

He lets Cade walk a few steps, before saying after him, "Are you not glad, to no longer be going down with this particular ship?" He paused, then added more soberly, "Go Cade. Do not look back. Look forward. You will survive this, when the rest of us may not."

Perhaps for the first time, he is grateful Cade was sundered when he was. Think of what state he would be in, if this had continued and he had to be under the Templar banner. Let one of them make it out of this, with fewer scars instead of more.

[onlyhymns]

"Glad?"

Cade turns, his expression dark, to watch James for a moment. "...I would have gladly gone down with it." He shakes his head. "...if I survive, it was for being robbed of choice. I would rather-- I would rather drown."

[judgemewhole]

"Then you are a fool."

Is James's sharp answer, green eyes narrowed. If it is a slap to the face, then so be it. It is meant to be. Cade needs to wake up. Still, his tone softens, because Cade has known enough cruelty from those who formerly commanded him. Let James let some wisdom seep in.

"Templars were not meant to be tools of the Chantry or Thedas, but swords. Warriors for the Maker." He lifts his chin up, "It is an honor, a privilege, to know you fight in the Maker's name. Yet here is what I know ... that if I ever decide to drop the banner, I will still be a warrior for the Maker. What armor I wear, does not matter. It is what I do with the skills the Maker has given me, that does. It is my belief, my faith in Him and the Bride that gives me focus, clarity, and the will to do the right thing."

He pauses, then adds bluntly, "If the Chantry is not doing the right thing, if the Templar Order is not doing the right thing, then it is up to the faithful to make sure the right thing is actually done. That should be the true calling of any Templar, Chantry sister or brother, Mother, or Seeker, for that matter. For anyone of faith. So ask yourself, Cade, are you doing it for the Maker, the Chantry, or are you doing it because in the end, it is the right thing to do? Andraste believed in sacrifice - She did not believe in suicide. Think on that."

[onlyhymns]

Cade has never been able to hold his own in a verbal argument, and this is no exception. He lets James talk at him, the bitterness he thought he'd escaped beginning to well up in his chest, to his throat, almost enough to choke him. It's so easy to say these things, when one still has the luxury of deciding.
Fearing that he'll lose his temper, Cade gives a quick, disgusted shake of his head, and turns to stalk away. Let James, let all of them, equivocate away. At the moment, he washes his hands of it.