faderift | Dream and Idea

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Dream and Idea

WHO: Norrington and You
WHAT: Norrington and the Seven ~~dwarves~~ Templars arrive at Skyhold
WHEN: Beginning the 3rd week of Haring
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Warnings for the Chant of Light. Because Templars.

Night had fallen on Skyhold when the guards at the gate spotted seven soldiers mounted on horses, with another driving a car behind them, riding across the stone bridge to Skyhold proper. The call-out did not occur until the watchman on duty spotted the templar armor. The templars in Skyhold were many, but not so many that the watchmen didn't know who they were dealing with.

When they arrived at the gates, the man in front dismounted, and with a promptness that surprised the gate guards, gave them travel papers and proper identification. The man was clearly weary - his green eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion, but he held himself up right and straight.

The guards sent word ahead, to anyone who might be up and still in charge, and then opened the gates to let the templars in. They pointed them to the well, and to the stables, while they got someone to ... well.

They didn't look like red templars. Were they rogues? Were they spies? They were watched quite carefully.

For their part, the templars themselves seemed rather subdued. Taking care of their mounts, talking amongst themselves. Except the tall, dark haired man with sharp green eyes. He muttered something to the red-headed templar, before starting to walk around Skyhold itself. It was clear the man was looking to get the lay of the land.

...Or perhaps to figure out just what the hell he had gotten himself into.

Who was to say it could not be both?

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This element of the situation was a bit more difficult for Cade to reconcile, but he tried anyway. He continued to look down, aware of Norrington's gaze and unable or unwilling to meet it.
"On my arrival I was met by a pair of mages," he said, almost emotionlessly, "one of whom used some form of mind control on me. I drew on my power and silenced them." He glanced quickly at Norrington, then directed his gaze forward again. "I have since come to understand that such actions are no longer tolerated."

Norrington's lips thinned a little more, as he tried to suss out particulars -- but there was very little meat to this truth. He only had the bone of it. So, he continued his questioning in the same calm, firm tone.

"What form of mind control was it, and did you kill them?" Silencing them could mean a great deal of different things after all.

They were nearing the gardens now as they walked over the dungeons, and Norrington would be able to see the damage the abomination had done in its brief but terrible rampage.

"She spoke my thoughts aloud, ser," Cade explained, shuddering at the memory, "...no, I didn't kill her. I silenced the magic in the area."

Edited 2015-12-23 06:13 (UTC)

Norrington stopped, his eyes widening as he took in the wide-scale destruction of what must have been a beautiful and wild garden. It is on the tip of his tongue to ask what in the name of the Maker happened -- when Cade's words brought his thoughts elsewhere.

Not for long, because things do connect, after all.

" -- Cade, the only sort of magic that would allow someone to read your mind is spirit possession. Like the Riviani seers, or ... the Avvar augers. That or demon possession." No blood mages there, but still, unnerving. "I did not think either would come to join the Inquisition."

Now, his mind moves back here, "What happened?"

"That is why it worries me," Cade confirmed, but let his attention be drawn back to the garden when Norrington exclaimed at it.
"Abomination, ser," he grimly replied, "I was below when it happened, but I believe a fair few were injured." He shook his head. "The Mage council resists harrowings even now."

"Well, perhaps we can identify the mage in question - figure out what school she has been learning from." Make sure it wasn't blood magic or possession, at the very least. Still, he allows his attention to be dragged back to the garden itself.

He breathed in deep, as he walks along the paths, and sighs, "... Injured, and killed, if I was to guess." He frowned, jerking his chin towards Cade, "Wait, they are not ... they are not sending them through the Harrowing? Are all the apprentices that young?"

This was the perfect opportunity for Cade to unleash his torrent of concerns. He stopped walking and replied with a firm and anxious "no, ser. Unharrowed apostates are living amongst us at Skyhold, and the council of magi is rejecting the process entirely." It was a relief to have finally met someone likeminded on the subject. "If I know anything about maleficarum-- which I do," he added, with a nervous glance to one side, "we are looking to be overrun with them sooner than later if things should continue in this manner."

James's frown became more and more grave, the more than he learned. He tipped his head up, his gaze narrowing on Cade as the man spoke. "By the Maker ... well, what has the Inquisition Leadership put into place? Restrictions? Have they talked to the Templar Leadership about some sort of - I don't know - protective custody while they find some -- alternative to the Harrowing?"

"Not that I've seen," Cade replied darkly, "they appear intent on governing themselves, and if I didn't know any better, they intend to govern more than that within the Inquisition." He pursed his lips angrily. "And thus far there is no Templar leadership, as the Commander seems content to leave well enough alone."

"Hm." He sighed again, "I have no problems with the Mages taking more responsibility for themselves - as long as they grant us the same respect to form our own ... well. Reformed Order." Whatever that would be, "But I have to wonder if they've considered the consequences. Do you know anyone on the mage council, outside of Lady LeBlanc?"

Reformed Order. The phrase caught Cade's attention, and he watched Norrington curiously, though he gave a shake of his head at the question. "No, ser," he said quietly. He didn't know anyone on the mage council, actually, including Lady Leblanc.

"Well, that is going to have to change. For both of us." Norrington murmured as he looked around the garden, "We cannot allow more innocents to be killed, Lieutenant. It is ... well, it should be against everything that we are."

Cade was reluctant, but he gave a small nod and a "ser," of confirmation nonetheless. Getting to know mages wasn't his strong point. Doing anything but guarding and silencing and periodically killing them was, but he had learned since leaving Kirkwall that this was not the way most of the Order operated. It should have made him feel better to have departed that kind of brutality, but all it meant for him was a new and endless potential for being useless in a time of need.

He walked back over to Cade, giving him a tired smile, "Oh, it won't be that bad, Cade. We are not social creatures by nature -- but we came together as orphans, did we not? Are we not all orphaned now, by the Chantry?" Maker, he hoped so. If they did not find common ground, they could have spats turning into uneasy battles all over again.

"The thing to remember here is -- we are not here for the mages. We are here ... for ourselves. To do what we think is right. Their sins are not ours to bear."

In a sense, perhaps they were orphans. Cade had never considered it-- for all he knew his parents were still alive, but he could never show his face in their home again. He was orphaned by conviction if not by circumstance.

He managed a faint smile, but it was pained, almost a wince. He looked off over the side of the battlements, into the scorched garden, and shook his head with a sigh. Perhaps it was the Knight-Commander's more amiable tone, inviting candor. "...and what of our own sins," he asked, pensively knitting his brow and returning his gaze to Norrington, "should the mage council gather its power, will we be beholden to their wishes?"

Now that gets Norrington's full attention, and he looked at the young man again with a quiet, listening gaze. Finally, he shook his head. "No, we are not. We were on the Chantry's leash, and then for those fool enough, on the Lord Seeker's. We are beholden now to no one but ourselves - so we must decide how we, and our fellow Knights, answer for our crimes."

He sighed, "We have a lot to make up for - but after seeing what the rogue mages did? No kettle should call the pot black."

Again, Cade grew increasingly anxious, and then less so, comforted by Norrington's condemnation of the rogue mages. His eyelids fluttered as he saw the flying flames, the spears of ice, the sensation of the ground itself erupting from beneath him and his men; the abject terror and helplessness they had felt in the face of the power so much greater than they could conceive of, even with the aid of lyrium. To hear that at least one person, just one, believed the mayhem and the death and the terror hadn't been completely his fault, was a relief Cade didn't know he needed.

His eyes had gone distant, and he took a bit too long to respond. When he came back to himself, he nearly smiled, but caught himself before he could.
"I am at your disposal, ser," he said, quiet but sincere.

Well naturally it hadn't been their fault - fault of leadership certainly, but for those following orders? It was those who left the path completely that needed to be corrected, and fast. He would not allow for the condemnation of his brothers and sisters, however, those who did what they had to protect people.

When one is facing magic, or worse, blood magic, one had to do what one could to protect the people. He had grown up with that grim knowledge.

He looked at Cade, his gaze quiet, "We will do what we can -- for the debt we owe is to the people of Thedas, to the mages and our own brothers and sisters that we failed to save. Never forget though, we take responsibility for ourselves. That is what a Templar is, in the end. Shouldering the harder path. It is not to be thrust upon us."

Cade nodded without a second thought. "Of course, ser," he replied, in total agreement. Then, realizing he was meant to be giving the Knight-Commander a tour, he inclined his head and gestured forward for them to start walking again.

He started to follow Cade again, his gaze becoming pensive once more as he looked at the young man's back. "If you don't have a squad here, Lieutenant, you are more than welcome to join my people and I in training, or anything else. I ... know you must have lost many of your brothers and sisters in Kirkwall's uprising, and I am most sorry, for your losses."

Cade had been walking steadily again, but he stopped with a jolt as though he'd had ice water poured down his back. His hand rested on the wall and tightened into a nervous fist, then he lowered his head, speaking without turning back to Norrington.

"My squad," he said, his voice torn between anger and shame, "...defected." His shoulders hunched miserably. "My Captain was killed. And they took matters into their own hands. I couldn't stop them. I shouldn't..." He shook his head. "...they never respected me, and my inability to control them resulted in their deaths and countless others."
He angled his head to look over his shoulder at Norrington, his expression suddenly stormy rather than anxious. "It is an injustice that I am alive and my men are dead."

Ah, Maker. No wonder Cade seemed like such a mess. Of course he would be - losing control of his squadron, and then believing it was his fault that they had gotten themselves killed. He breathed in deeply, before he put the hint of command in his voice. "Lieutenant, although you can be faulted for losing control of your men - you are not to be held responsible for their actions after they defected. Their deaths were on their own heads, as were the crimes they committed. If you hold guilt, very well, but I strongly recommend focusing it somewhere where you can use it, instead of allowing yourself to wallow."

He gave him a more quiet look, his voice quiet, "How are you making up for your sins, if all you do is beat yourself? The Maker does not want your condemations, Cade. He wants your actions. Do you think you might be able to serve Him again?"

When Norrington spoke, Cade turned to face him more directly, his expression all business. He listened silently, with the perfect attention of a well-trained soldier, only beginning to show doubt when the Knight-Commander came to his point. A silence drew out between them, in which he was at a total loss for words.
When he did finally speak, it was hesitant and sincere. "..I don't know, ser." He didn't know how he was making up for his sins, and he didn't know if he was able to serve. He didn't know anything.

"Well, that is a more honest answer than I expected, Lieutenant." Norrington's mouth twisted, before he spoke frankly, "You are no good to the Maker dead, Cade. Even you can agree with that. You don't see the path very well right now, and that is fine. Without doubt to test us, how can we know how strong our faith is. You just have to find your bearings."

Despite his misgivings, Cade saw the wisdom in Norrington's words. "I will, ser," he decided, his voice hoarse but fraught with quiet resolve.

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