faderift | [Open] My Hearth Is Yours

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[Open] My Hearth Is Yours

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.

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Now that was important to know - who Pel was, what she was, was important to her. As it was important to him. He felt that sense of connection again, smiling a little. "So she is working on becoming the scholar she always dreamed of being."

He paused, then his eyes narrowed. "Like whom?"

"Yeah, seems so." Sam smiles at that, remembering their talk a while back, her worries about giving up doing what she wanted to do because she had to go back to her clan. He was glad to know she was doing what she wanted.

Sam goes to take another bite of his food, but when James gives him that look he pauses. Sighing he tears off a piece of bread and tosses it at the man's head. "I'm hinting about you."

"Good. She should be focusing on this. It's her lifework." James cut his food into tiny bites so he could take a few more, and chased it with wine.

He looked up, getting hit in the face with bread, before his expression brightened. "Did she?" Then he realized just how obvious that was, and cleared his throat. "Aaaah. Well. That is good."

"Well it's important because it's about her people. She almost gave up doing it because of that reason, too." It couldn't have been an easy decision, but he was glad Pel had taken some of what he said to heart.

Sam sighs a bit at just how big of a goof James was, since he wasn't particularly used to seeing the Templar this bad. Course thinking about it, he was probably just as much of a goof when it came to Krem. "So, how did you two meet?"

"Wait, what are you talking about? Why would her people have made her stop doing what she is so passionate about?" Maker, he hoped it wasn't about him. He could no more separate Pel from the Dalish than he would from her arms.

A pause, and a wry, "Well, we met in the garden where she was doing Keeper magic, which I have never seen before this point, and I was stretching my legs. What started off as mutual wariness turned into ... a very interesting conversation."

Sam gives a sigh and thinks about that. A good example would be using the Circle, but he doesn't exactly want to bring that up. "From how I understand it, when she's with the Clan, Pel can't really leave. Research trips and freely coming and going to find things to help her would not be a thing."

There's a small hum from him as he chews on a piece of meat - didn't sound all that different to how he and Pel had met. "I take it she hasn't met Burns yet?" he asks with a bit of a grin, half making fun of the guy, and half not.

"Ah." Like a Circle, except it was a Circle of one mage as opposed to near a hundred. He frowned again, folding his arms on the table as he looked over at Sam. "Well, that doesn't sound like the sort of life she wants at all."

One corner of his mouth lifted, "She has. And let us just say the lady can hold her own."

"No, but the life the Clan would expect of her. It's not an easy decision, and something that shouldn't be taken lightly." Sam gives a sigh then. He's not exactly the most qualified to talk about the Dalish or their ways, but he's trying to let James know what he's come to understand.

He sighs further at knowing she's met Burns. Or rather Burns met Pel. "Pel is rather ruthless. I take it Burns is alright though?"

"Clearly not." He pressed his lips together looking thoughtful. "So it's not a life that she is ... looking to accept." He sighed quietly. "I understand responsibilities that you haven't asked for."

He quirked up one corner up, "Oh, he's taken the hits, but I believe he will survive."

"I'm not sure 'accept' is the right word. I think she would do that if she had to. It's more... not having to accept how things are and do something different?" That sounded a bit more like it, at least to him.

"He'll survive, but I'm sure he's moping and clinging to the others for attention isn't he?"

"So ... more along the lines of, her clan thinks she does not have a choice, and she thinks she does." He pushed his food around the plate, "I tend to lean more on her side of things."

"Of course he is." Norrington rolled his eyes, "He's Burns."

"Pel is supposed to be the next Keeper I believe? I think that complicates things a bit more on the matter." At least that's how he understood it, and she also knew that special Keeper magic.

Poor Burns. Honestly he should give him some slack and probably have his back a bit more considering he too was Ferelden. It was just easy to pick on him though. "Other than that does she seem... like she's doing alright with the lot of them?"

"I see ... then I understand more than they might realize." He himself was a Knight Captain before everything went to Maker Knows What in Kirkwall, straight to the Black City and not turning back. He could have retired there to have a family, except he had ambitions, thoughts of becoming one of the Knights Divine.

All gone, and placed in the responsibility of Knight Commander, one of the youngest of his damned age. He shouldered it because someone had to.

He pauses at that, giving him a curious look, before he sighs deeply. "Honestly? They are more concerned that Pel and I are going to let ourselves get bullied by the Dalish by giving what we have - as fragile as it is already - up."

Sam frowns slightly at that before taking a drink and thinking about it for a bit. "They're a good lot, but... clearly there's always going to be some issues. I get along with all if not most of them for a good part, but I know that being a 'shem' is always going to play a role."

For a while Sam picks at his food. It wasn't an old feeling, being judged for something that he was, but it is still odd. More because it wasn't because he was a mage but rather a human in this case.

He paused at that, before he sighed quietly and nodded his head, "Yes, it always will, won't it?"

It was a mutual feeling, and honestly, he didn't want to dwell on it. Onto more happier thoughts -- in the middle of a war -- hm. Oh!

"Did I tell you I am going to get a mabari?"

"Hm," he hums in agreement, finally putting a piece of meat in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

At the mention that James as getting a mabari, he stops, looking from his plate to blink at the Templar. "No, but you just did. You're getting a mabari?" He might be a little jealous. Always being teased about being a 'dog lord' and never actually having a dog. Course he liked cats, too, but that wasn't the point.

"You got one of those papers from Lady LeBlanc?"

"I will once there is a litter born. I am on the list." Which made him fairly pleased, all things considered. How hard had that been. "Lady LeBlanc promised to let me know as soon as puppies became available."

He looked a little wistful, "I have always wanted a pet - my mother wouldn't allow it when I was younger. Too much mess."

"You're lucky. Mabaris are smart, strong dogs." Even if he's never owned one, Sam still has that Ferelden pride when it came to the breed.

"So... you are going to be getting a puppy? They imprint better if you do, though that's going to be a lot of work."

"Yes, I am going to get a puppy." He shouldn't be so damned excited, especially about a dog, but it is clear. He is practically boyish in it.

Sam can see that James is rather excited about this, and seeing him like this brings a smile to his face. "You know you're going to have to feed it, clean it, takes it for walks, play with it-" Clearly James knows what kind of responsibility comes with a dog, but he still feels like teasing him. Joking aside though it was going to need a lot of attention, and hopefully James would be able to give it that.

James gave Sam a dry look, and resisted the urge to throw a roll at his head. Knight Commanders should not start food fights, after all. "I think if I can handle you and Burns, I can handle the needs of a young pup just fine."

Honestly, it was going to be significantly harder to separate James from the puppy to begin with. He might not look it, but he was a solitary soul who needed some unguarded affection.

Sam can see that James wants to do something, and grins when he doesn't - come on James he wouldn't tell. The grin only gets wider when the man mentions both him and Burns. "Clearly if you can handle two Fereldens you can handle one more."

Having a companion would be good for him, Sam just hoped he'd get the time to enjoy it and setup a proper bond. "Do you have any names picked out?"

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[Open] My Hearth Is Yours

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