faderift | [Open] Blade to shackle-bearer, valiant of spirit

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[Open] Blade to shackle-bearer, valiant of spirit

WHO: Character(s: James Norrington, Alayre Sauveterre, Pel Ashara, NPC soldiers and templars and YOU.
WHAT: First Templar Training Session for Inquisition Soldiers
WHEN: 14th of Wintersbreath
WHERE: Skyhold Training Ring
NOTES: Warnings for Violence, Racism against Elves, Templars being badass.

.

Norrington had told all of the other Templars that he would begin training the soldiers in direct Templar training on how to handle abominations, and he was as good as his word. He put up a list for sign-up for the soldiers, and it was filled within minutes. His own Templars came to help train the fifty-plus soldiers, and James took on lecturing duties. Explaining the differences between demons and abominations, and beyond that, spirits as best as he understood them. Informed them that no, not all mages were simply 'abominations waiting to happen'. It was a conscious choice of the mage within the Fade to make that deal with a demon, and typically? It was because the mage had lost control of their abilities through either fear or ... coercion.

Then he had each soldier run through practice drills on the best way to defend against demons, using his Templars (and any who volunteered) to walk them through step by step. Then, to demonstrate how it all worked together -- James called Templars into the ring, and took them on, sword and shield. The effect was just what he was hoping for, the men were completely rapt with attention. Which was good - he wanted for them to soak it in.

And if any of the passer-bys wanted to stay and watch? Learn something or just know how much training went into actually hunting and killing demons? Well. Visual demonstrations were always ... effective.

And afterwards ...

Afterwards, James would be hanging milling on the side of the ring - talking to the soldiers or his fellow Templars. If you wanted to speak to him, challenge him to some sort of sparring match, or just taunt from the sidelines? Now was the time.

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"This was my own research, actually." She takes his hands, still beaming up at him. "I'm proud of you."

"Ah hah, so you've been reading up on how to better court me? I am absolutely ..." And here, he would sneak another kiss, "Flattered."

He smiled again, but was a smile that faded as he caught sight of something over his shoulder. It was a party of Orlesian courtiers. Low ranking, without a place to go or a boot to, well, do anything with. Still they had their silks and whatever gold they managed to grab before running like cowards.

One of them was sneering and making rabbit ears at him, along with kissy-noises. Norrington's eyes narrowed, before he looked at Pel. "Ignore them. They are idiots."

Her eyes fall at the gesture. At the noises, she looks wan. More reason to be anxious until Krem returns.

"Nothing I haven't heard before." She'd just hoped it wouldn't mar this lovely moment. "Can we go somewhere else?"

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. A comforting gesture, and one that allowed him to start to escort her away from the ridiculously dressed morons.

"We absolutely can." He stated firmly, and began to lead her towards the gardens.

Until, of course, that pompous little shite had to call out, his accent thick, "Knight Commander, we did not realize you liked your rabbit wild and already eaten. Or do you and Commander Rutherford share the same rustic tastes?"

Norrington stopped, his body tensing for a moment, before he inhaled. Slowly. Then exhaled. Evenly. He turned to Pel, a calm expression on his face one that did not meet his eyes, "My dear Pel, would you please hold this cup for me?"

Pel mutely holds out her hands for the cup, clearly shaken and humiliated. She takes the cup with a glance at James' face, uncertain what he's about to do. Lecture the asshole?

"Thank you."

And with that, Norrington turned on his heel and marched towards the Orlesian nobles, his gaze absolutely murderous. So murderous, the Orlesians mocking expressions faded into frowns, and then alarm. The one who had called out to them was the one that Norrington narrowed in on, however, and he was the one who let out a girlish shriek as Norrington's blade swung from his hip to the other man's throat in one smooth motion.

The courtyard went quiet, and that would have been the only way to hear Norrington's voice as he stated in a frosty tone, "You have questioned the honor of my lady, the woman I am courting and the woman I hope to some day be betrothed to. You've questioned her morality and her commitment to the betterment of her people." He lifted his blade, just so, so it danced along the edge of the man's adam's apple. "Therefore, per the traditions of honor, and chivalry, I am challenging you to a duel, right now."

The Orleisan squeaked, "You can't do that!"

Here, Norrington paused, "Oh yes, you're right." The Orleisan sighed out with relief, a short lived one, as Norrington shifted his arm back, "I first must strike you across the face for the insult, I believe. I am afraid the only thing I have is my fist - so I trust your face is made of sturdier stuff than your sense of decency."

He swung the shield back to give the man a glancing blow with his hand, but before Norrington could move, the Orleisan ... fainted.

Norrington arched an eyebrow, looking at the prone man, who might have wet himself if that smell was not the horses, then turned his glower to the other nobles. "Would anyone like to second him?"

"No, we're fine!" "We're quite sorry for the insult!" "Please tell your lady mage friend that we are humbly ignornant and do not wish to be hit in the face. Repeatedly."

Norrington snorted, before he turned to look at Pel. "My Lady, you are the insulted party. Would you care for me to challenge every last one of them -- or would you prefer to leave the confines of Skyhold so you make take care of them yourself?"

After all, Pel was a Lady, but she was also the member of a proud Dalish clan. He would hate to think he was insulting by not allowing her to throw them around with a tree.

Wh..at just happ...pened? Did James just challenge--yes he did. For her honor.

Betrothed? He's going there? So--

He doesn't mean--

Yes, yes he is going to hit a guy with his shield.

A bubble of laughter as the pansy faints first. Oh, is Pel smiling? Yes, she sure is, and it grows the longer this goes on. And the thing is, James isn't actually hurting anyone. He isn't bullying some cowards to prove how tough he is. He doesn't need to. He's making an example. He's sending Skyhold a message not to fuck with Pel.

She could be theatrical. She could make overtures to prove that she's a mage with real power, a force to be reckoned with, but no. She's not that person.

Instead, she shrugs, schooling her expression so she looks solemn and sagely.

"By Dalish law, villains like these who disrespect the clan are required to be taught gentleness and respect for nature once more. I will forgo a duel if each of these offenders follows Dalish law--to kiss a halla on the mouth three times in penance."

Good to have a halla in the stable.

Norrington's eyes widened, because he was more than fairly certain she was screwing with them, but he schooled his expression back into fierce anger as he turned back to them, shield up and blade still bared in his hand.

"Unless anyone feels like answering my challenge instead?"

He had to admit, for a bunch of mewling cowards, they certainly could run, They were falling over one another, to sprint to the stables. Perhaps he would recommend them to the Left Hand of the Divine, for messenger duties.

He sheathed his sword, put his shield on his back and nudged the comotose man with his boot gently. When no answer was forthcoming outside of a wheeze, he turned on his heel and headed back towards Pel.

"Would you like to watch them go kiss the halla, darling? I know how important your traditions are to you." He held out his hand for the glass, switched it to his other hand so he could kiss her hand and keep his amused look down against her fingers.

"No." She closes her hand around the kiss with a smile. "But if you could go stop them before they assault that poor halla, I'd be in your debt."

She hands his cup back to him and sits down beside the last man, patting his cheek gently to try to rouse him.

"All right there?"

Norrington sighs, deeply, before he nods. "Very well, dear. But only because I like the Halla."

He moves across the Courtyard, wondering if they even made it past Master Habren to get to the halla. That man wasn't for one messing with the mounts.

The Orleisan noble groaned, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he focused in on Pel.

And then he screamed. Again. A shriek as he tried to crawl away from her, "Non! I do not wish to duel you either!"

~~

Not a threat at all. Excellent.

"Are you sure? I wanted to be sure you were conscious first, so backing out now is sort of a pity after I went to the trouble."

The Orlesian whimpered a little, "No no, it is fine. I am sorry, you are clearly the ... you make a very beautiful couple and I am sure the Commander will sing at your wedding."

And watch while he tries to edge away. Quickly.

Oh no you don't. Pel reaches out to grab hold of that stupid cravat and pull him close.

"Commander Cullen and I have never been anything more, or less, than good friends," she says with just enough volume to carry, though her tone is icy and her face faintly amused. "But it's not him you'll have to worry about if an elf gets hurt and I find out."

She suddenly releases his ridiculous neck stock and briskly walks toward the stables to find James.

"Oh ... oh, all right then he is with the bl.... the very clever Inquisition Scout! Oh good, yes, so happy for all of you!" Pel could hear the sigh of relief when she let him go, and called across the courtyard, "Double weddings in your future!"

Down at the stables, James was calmly watching while the Orlesians, well, tried to get up on the roof and away from Horse Master Dennett, who was threatening then with a pitchfork. "You don't go near that majestic animal! You do and I'll have me some Holy Orlesians, if you get my meaning, and I think you do!"

James turned when he heard Pel approaching at his elbow, the scarf tied neatly around his throat. "Horse Master Dennet didn't like them going near the halla."

Horsemaster Dennet gets on Pel's good list then and there. She enjoys the sight for a moment before calling out:

"Listen to the horsemaster and leave the halla alone. Go back to your duties if you have them, and find one if you don't. You've learned your lesson."

"I would suggest talking to Lady Montilyet. I'm sure she has some use for Orlesians prattling along." James added, with a sharp smile, before looking over at Horse Master Dennet. "Thank you ser, for guarding the honor of the halla."

Horse Master Dennet huffed, before nodding at Pel and James, "Good enough." He glowered at the Orlesian nobles who climbed, or fell off the roof. and took off running again. "Damned prancy fools."

James smirked again, broadly, before he looked over at Pel, "Might I interest you in a prancy fool free evening, my Lady Pel? Dinner, perhaps, if we can find a chaperone?"

~~

Pel loops her arm through James' and beams up at him. She's elated, feeling freer than she has since she arrived. Freer from fears, those demons that turn up in her dreams. Instead of being trapped by her power, bound never to use her greatest strength in self-defense, James empowered her.

"A chaperone isn't going to want to see what I'm going to do to you," she purrs for his ears alone.

In that, James had truly wished Pel had known First Enchanter Lydia. The woman was an inspiration in using the force of words as opposed to the force of her abilities -- which like Pel's were considerable. Pel had that in her, he had seen it. That she was seeing it now in herself made him beam at her in turn.

Her words, ah, however, made him flush bright red. "Why Lady Pel - am I to understand that you wish to dine alone?"

"I...suppose that isn't the brightest idea," she admits as she thinks about it, blushing in turn.

He quirks a faint smile at her, even though his eyes were intent as he took her hand to his lips and gently kisses her fingers. "Oh, it is quite bright. And desired. But ... I think not yet."

"You're right." A long sigh, and she tugs his arm tighter against her side. "I think it's your turn to find a chaperone. Dinner sounds wonderful."

"Very well -- you have your pick. Gilette, Burns, Anamaria, Giselle, Murtogg, Mullroy, or Gibbs." He paused for a moment, before his lips twitched. "Or Sam. You could always choose Sam."

"I think I remember Burns making a very witty example on the notice board recently. Let's go with Burns."

"Hah! Have I ever mentioned I happen to like the way you think?" He grinned at her, green eyes bright. "Burns it is."

Pel stands on her toes to give him a kiss on the jaw, threads her fingers with his, and walks away with him.

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[Open] Blade to shackle-bearer, valiant of spirit

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