[Open] My Hearth Is Yours

[judgemewhole]

WHO: James Norrington and You
WHAT: Dining with the Commander
WHEN: Throughout Wintermarch
WHERE: The Great Hall
NOTES: Nothing but 'seriously dude, you're hiding something aren't you?'

Even Templars need to eat.

And drink.

Sometimes they have to do a lot of drinking, honestly, but Norrington kept his portions of wine to a reasonable amount when he had it with his supper. He always dined in the main hall, few times with his men, but often times he came in in alone with papers and letters in which he worked upon while he broke meat and bread off and slipped it into his mouth without thinking. His pen never seemed to stop, as he scripted pages and pages of writing -- before tossing some of them aside and grumpily burning others.

Once and awhile, you could catch him with no papers at all, but a book, his head propped up on his hand and his green eyes distant as he read the words on the page and sipped from his glass of wine.

Comments

[judgemewhole]

Well, it is true. He absolutely adores her. Even now he's probably grinning like damned fool.

He nods his head, bringing his expression back to seriousness. "I would not want anything less, from someone like Pel. She is ... she is not like any woman I have met before. I would be a fool to let her go."

[samahl]

"That's right," Cyril responds. "She is unlike any one else either of us will ever meet." Pel was important in ways that he couldn't full describe to anyone, let alone a human. It was good that James seemed to understand at least a bit of that.

"I think you've started well. The fact that you realize this will be a rough journey and seem accepting of it is a good sign. I wouldn't want her with a man who wasn't willing to face the truth."

[judgemewhole]

James nodded his head in solemn agreement of that, for Pel was different than other women in her strength, in her knowledge of all things, in her poise and in her composure. She was important ... well, because she was Pel.

"It won't be easy, for either one of us." He honestly had yet to hear anything from the other Templars as of yet. Didn't mean he wasn't waiting on it.

[samahl]

Cyril tilted his head a bit and considered James. "That's right. Your Order banned relationships with mages, didn't it?" Which, honestly, made the most sense out of anything else he knows about templars. Allowing relationships between jailer and prisoner blurred the line of consent too much. He didn't say that part aloud, though. James might might not like the comparison between templars and jailers.

[judgemewhole]

"Between Circle Mage and Templar, most definitely. It is considered a horrible abuse of power from a Templar, and the possibility of corruption from the mage. That is not to say it didn't happen, however." He paused, then added a little more wryly, "Your cousin and I are in a unique position - I am a Templar who has given no vow of chastity and for all intents and purposes to the Chantry, am rogue. She is an apostate First, in a land where all mages are now apostates. The old rules really do not apply any more - except, apparently, from society at large."

[samahl]

"You forgot the part where you are human, and she a Dalish mage. The thought..." He pauses and then, after a slight moment corrects himself. "Many assume relationships between men and women end in the same place. Children. The thought that a talented, hardworking, steadfast mage would weaken her bloodline is offensive to some." He sighs and rubs his face. "It's a little bit of a sore spot and makes things even more complicated."

Then he considers James again. "I'm still rooting for you though."

[judgemewhole]

James's lips press together at that, and he looks down at his hands, "I know. Any child I had would be rejected by the Dalish. More than likely would be rejected by a great deal of humans, as well, Templars and otherwise." Something in his jaw set, "But never by me. I don't care if he or she isn't Dalish enough or human enough ... that would be my child and -- and family is precious." He looked up at Cyril, his smile a little bleak, "I know, putting the cart before the horse -- but I'm the last Norrington. To have a child, any child, would be a blessing."

He looks at Cyril then, and smiles broadly, "Cyril, I rather like you. I hope we can become friends."

[samahl]

"I'm the one that brought up children, James. You needn't apologize for responding to it." He's smiling though at the way that James talks about any possible children. He imagines that's how his father would have been, had he been able to have any memories of the man.

"I'd like to be your friend as well. You're handsome, gentlemanly, and passionate about the right sort of things. That and having at least one of her Clan on your good side would relieve some of the stress off of Pel."

[judgemewhole]

"You were the caregiver?" Now he has James's full attention, "Were you just the caretaker? Or were you the teacher as well?" Here he was, learning new things about the Dalish all the time.

He cleared his throat, flushing faintly at the praise. "Why, ah, thank you. And ... yes. I would prefer to ease her pain right now." His jaw fixed into place, "And the more her own family makes this hard for her? The less I am willing to be polite about it."

[samahl]

Cyril is confused for a moment. "Oh, no. I meant I brought the subject of children into this conversation. I stated first that people assume men and women will eventually produce some. You weren't putting the cart before the horse by responding to my point." Then, after a moment. "My Clan had a plague many years ago. Several of us lost our parents. We learned to care for each other from that and the Clan came together to raise us. That's the closest I've personally been to raising a child."

[judgemewhole]

"Aaaaaaahhh. My apologies, I did not mean to misunderstand your meaning." he felt sheepish, before he nodded his head slowly. "Not unlike all of us youngsters in the Templar Order. We banded together, to look out for one another while we went through training."

[samahl]

"How young are templars usually?" Cyril asks because for some reason he can't picture them as children. Templars are pretty much the boogie men of many stories when you're in a clan hiding an extra mage, so he's always thought of them as being made as adults. This chance to learn the truth isn't something he wants to pass up.

[judgemewhole]

"Typically, a templar can be as young as an infant -- some are promised as childre. The typical age is around nine years, though." James explained, waving his hands, "For like mage training, it takes years to master the art of becoming a Templar, and what those powers include. It is also why so many templars can continue to use their gifts without lyrium."

[samahl]

"An... infant?" Cyril seems shocked by that news. "You take children and... train them into that sort of thing?" He frowns a bit. "Were you a child when you first joined?"

[judgemewhole]

"Those who were without parents were the ones brought in as infants. We do not begin formal training until we are at least eleven or twelve." Norrington stated, before he paused, "I was ... nine. My parents had been lost to me, and I was turned over to the care of the Chantry."

[samahl]

This conversation forces Cyril to re-think a lot about what he thought about templars. He frowns as he thinks all of that over. "What is your training like?" He imagines eleven or twelve year olds holding those massive shields and being taught that mages were evil and it just chills him. He doesn't want to run with that assumption though. He waits for James to answer to give him the truth.