Cade's Inbox

[onlyhymns]

[For personal threads, memos, things left in his quarters for him to stumble on, confessions of love, injunctions, jars of bees, and so forth.]

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[shortly after the Emprise fiasco]

[onlyhymns]

Alistair was leaving with Beleth, and Cade watched them go, his posture hunched and worried as he avoided looking at Nerva. There was blood on his gauntlet from where he'd struck the elf, and he eyed it queasily; he had never so badly wanted to scour his armor. Or himself.

A few passersby had stopped to watch the event unfold, but now that both of the parties involved had been separated and calmed, there wasn't much more to see. He was aware that a few were still staring at him, however, with fear or derision or amusement or some combination thereof, and the knowledge made him even more miserable. He wanted to hide, scrape all his skin off, and maybe die, in no particular order.

[keeperofmagi]

She didn't speak for a long time, just marched him onward, the scowl on her face more than enough to keep anyone from approaching them or attempting to talk to them. She stopped at her tent and pointed inside.

"In."

[onlyhymns]

Cade trailed along with her like a man on his way to the gallows, his gaze lowered and morose. He hesitated when they reached her tent, and it took him several moments to steel himself before he followed her command and made his way inside.

In his heyday as a templar, Cade had never displeased anyone enough to be spoken to so firmly. He had been a model soldier, at Knight-Commander Meredith's beck and call to the very end, and only after Kirkwall's sundering did everything fall apart. A once-guided if ruthless hand had been left to its own devices, and before long he lost count of the souls, just like Beleth, who fell to his sword on the trek through Ferelden. None of this was condoned by the Inquisition-- Knight-Commander Sauveterre had made that clear-- and since then, Cade had wondered why he had been allowed to live. He had come to the Inquisition seeking repentance, but could not repent what no one appeared to blame him for.
Meredith would have known what to do, but he had long since learned not to mention her name among those of the Inquisition.

Nerva was not his superior officer, and he knew she had no real authority over him. And yet, whether by her tone or her manner, he couldn't help but to defer to her. He stood inside the tent, facing her as though he were one of her own soldiers, shivering with adrenaline and misery.

[keeperofmagi]

"Tell me what happened." Her voice is still hard, but the edge has dulled, slightly, now that he has fallen in step. She points to the bed roll and gestures for him to sit on it, though she stays standing - even if the top of the tent is brushing against her hair.

"Everything."

[onlyhymns]

Cade looked at the bed when she gestured to it, and immediately felt sick. He didn't move toward it, but hunched his shoulders as though expecting a blow or a tongue-lashing for his disobedience, but nonetheless began to attempt an explanation.

"...I was on watch," he said, and realized he had no idea how to proceed from there. He vaguely remembered the elf approaching him, but the rest was a blur of rage and violence. "...she... was talking to me," he stammered, and swallowed hard, "she... got too close?" That seemed right. "..and I.. attacked her." He squeezed his eyes closed, hanging his head in dismay. He knew this much to be true, at least, based on the elf cowering in the snow, and the sword he had given Nerva when his mind had cleared.
"..Alistair," he suddenly remembered, his voice breaking as he spoke the name, and he put a hand over his face. Alistair had been there, Alistair had stopped him. His childhood friend had watched him try to kill someone.

[keeperofmagi]

She is still angry - horribly angry - but there's another twinge of something else that crosses her face. Pity, maybe. A glimpse of something broken that she was so close to becoming --

"She got too close and so you attacked her." She repeated it, incredulously. But she very, very glad that Alistair had appeared. "And if you weren't stopped? Would you have killed her?"

[onlyhymns]

Cade's hand was still over his face as he nodded miserably. This he knew to be true; he had killed people like this before. Apostates in Kirkwall and in Redcliffe, his own men when they had turned. He would go away for a while, and when he came back, he'd be covered in their blood. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Beleth would be dead if Alistair hadn't intervened.

[keeperofmagi]

She watched him silently for a long moment.

"No sword." She said, finally. "You may carry a shield, but no blade of any kind. You are to stay in my sight at all times, until we arrive back in Skyhold, and then we will report this to Commander Cullen, and he will take whatever further disciplinary action he sees fit."

She was silent for a long time, her brow beginning to furrow.

"... You didn't want this to happen, did you."

[onlyhymns]

Cade nodded to her instructions, his fingers tightening over his face as he felt tears sting his eyes. How repulsive, he observed: if he lost his composure in front of a fellow soldier, his disgrace would be even deeper.

Nerva's question broke him out of his thoughts, and he gave yet another tortured shake of his head.

[keeperofmagi]

She watched him a long time in silence. The pity was deep, but - disgust was there, too. Anger. She'd trusted him, to be able to hold himself back. She'd trusted him, and she shouldn't have.

"If you were a mage, I would suggest the Rite of Tranquillity." She said eventually. "I think you are starting to become a danger to yourself, Cade. Let alone the rest of the Inquisition."

[onlyhymns]

That got his attention. Tranquility as he'd known it had been a punishment for dissent, and only for mages. He finally removed his hand to look at Nerva, red-eyed and horrified, though in the back of his mind, a small part of him sighed with relief. He envied the Tranquil as much as he feared what the Rite stood for.

"I should... leave," he said tremulously, his breath hitching. He could just put down all his things, walk off into the wilderness, and disappear. He would die, certainly, from lyrium withdrawal if not exposure, but this way no one else would have to be responsible.

[keeperofmagi]

"No." Her voice was firm in this, and her eyes sharp.

"No, Cade. You will not leave, and you will not run. You will face your crime. If you are truly repentant, I am sure the Commander will take that into account. Do not deepen your guilt by running."

[onlyhymns]

She was right, of course. He looked at her for a moment more, long enough to nod, then away again, removing one gauntlet to duck his head into his now-bare hand. He couldn't stand being stared at, let alone with such disgust, so he turned away enough to hide his face completely.

[keeperofmagi]

She watched him for a long moment, and then sighed. She needed to go back - needed to check on Beleth, and with Alistair, but she was not about to leave Cade alone. So it could wait, until they were back at Skyhold.

"You'll camp with me," she continued finally. "We will fetch your things from your tent, and we will make for Skyhold." Not without notice, of course - a word to the camp organizer, and a letter sent ahead to Cullen should do the trick.

[onlyhymns]

Cade nodded, his back still turned. From here on it would be the anticipation that killed him, the knowledge of his impending and inescapable doom. And he would have to wait the better part of a week to receive it.
Needless to say, he wasn't going to be sleeping much.

[his and Korrin's tent, after the Emprise fiasco]

[onlyhymns]

Cade doesn't announce himself, but barges right in, red-eyed and blushing up to his ears. There's a shadow of another person outside the tent flap, standing and waiting as he begins to hurriedly collect his meager belongings.

A cursory glance is sent to Korrin, but he quickly looks away, appearing as though he'd like this encounter to be over with as soon as possible.

[time this whenever it makes sense for Cade's ICness]

[colecomfort]

It's difficult getting close to Cade. The worst part of it is, he doesn't think he deserves help from anyone other than the Maker, and sometimes not even then. That's what makes it hard for Cole to get close. People can't be helped without their permission.

But things shift. People change on their own, sometimes, gradually. A break in the clouds, however small, and light will be allowed to pass. Even if it's something as simple as wanting to be better.

Cole hears the whisper of Cade's thoughts from across the courtyard, and goes to find him.

[onlyhymns]

Cade has been pretty much a beacon of misery for the last month or so. He is constantly embarrassed and stressed out from being supervised at all hours by near strangers, most of whom are younger or ranked lower than himself.
When Cole finds him, he's eating lunch, alone save for his chaperone, at one of the tables near the kitchen. He looks up at the boy, wondering where he's seen him before, and immediately going on his guard; judging by his two black eyes, he has reason to fear everyone who approaches him of late.

[colecomfort]

He's sitting across from Cade. Before he even looks up, his fingertips curl against the wood of the table top.

"Red against white, blood and bone—" Quickly, he remembers how much his words disturbed Cade last time, can already feel the sharp edges pressing inward.

"Sorry," he interrupts himself, holding up a hand. "I want to do it right, this time."

[onlyhymns]

Cade knits his brow at Cole, already a bit disturbed by his choice of phrasing, but he doesn't spook immediately.
"...do I know you from somewhere?" he cautiously asks, his gaze flitting to the knives on Cole's belt. He looks then to the Tranquil nearby, who, as with Merrick, wouldn't be able to stop an attack before it's mostly played out. Already he's creating an escape plan in his mind.

[colecomfort]

The Tranquil is still staring ahead, mechanically eating the meal in front of them, with no concern for the food apart from continued survival. Not so much as a glance in Cole's direction.

"We met before - it doesn't matter." He doesn't pause long before going on: only for a second, enough to collect the words. He speaks with a sure, measured voice:

"It was wrong, what he did. Sometimes you think the words, but you blame yourself when you should believe them. He pushed the darkness onto you. You did nothing to deserve it."

It won't fix everything. Won't take away the pain. It is only, Cole hopes, the first brick in a wall that can only be dismantled piece by piece. Before he can forget, he has to forgive himself.

Cade will feel the intent behind the words stream through the cracks in his consciousness, illuminating darkened corners, dispelling shadows. The change may come with relief, a swell of emotion that leads to tears, the bite of buried memories that are now being uncovered, or all three to varying degrees. It is, after all, only a start.

[onlyhymns]

Cade looks for another moment as though he's about to flee, and maybe get anxious in the meantime, but Cole's words have a strangely calming effect on him. He watches the boy, pursing his lips, brow knitted uncertainly.
He knows exactly what Cole is talking about. It came to light recently, in an unexpected way, and for it to be dredged back up like this is... well, it would be alarming if it weren't Cole. Somehow he is able to accept that Cole knows this without anyone having necessarily told him.

"...I don't know where to go," he says quietly, imploringly.

[colecomfort]

"You don't have to go anywhere. You can stay still."

Easier said than done, perhaps. Simply being where you are can be the hardest thing in the world, when everything in you wants to run and hide. But being given permission might help.

As would being assured that the monster he wants to hide from really isn't waiting around every corner. Something else that may take more time. Another brick.

"Still in the stream, but still holding to what happened. Let go, and it all washes down and away."

[onlyhymns]

As far as Cade is concerned, staying still equates to death. Staying like he is? An inconvenience, a broken tool that no one has the heart to throw out? Cole isn't the only one who worries about being forgotten.

"I can't," he quietly insists, "this is my last chance." He knows it, deep down. He's been in the dungeon once already, and now this, and... he doubts anyone will still have any patience if he should 'let go' again, at least the way he's interpreting it.

[colecomfort]

Cole can sense the place where their meanings become misaligned, the piece of his understanding that Cade is missing. He tries to set it in its place.

"You think it means losing control. But you're still afraid. You're still holding on." To the anger, he means. It's a hard, hot, bitter thing, held so tightly for so long that it's solidified in Cade's grasp.

"I can help." He sets his hand, palm upward, on the table. He could do more than he has already, but Cade has to want it. Accept it.