[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

[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.