The Rascally Duo

All that could be heard in the huge dusty library of Kinhold Tower was the slight rustling of old, brittle parchment and the screeching sound of quills as they scribbled across paper. Solona Amell raised her head and yawned, then moved her neck from side to side until she heard a satisfactory crack.

Maker, she was so bored. She sighed heavily. So bored.

Predictably, the immediate response was a strict shushing sound form the stern-faced Enchanter at the head of the table, who was responsible for watching over their study group.

The brunette mage secretly rolled her eyes, then tried to focus once more. It was hopeless. The letters jumped in front of her eyes, as if mocking her: look, we can jump, but you have to stay still on that hard chair, and not move, or dance, or run.

A slip of parchment floated down to her foot. She pretended to drop her quill, then bent to retrieve it and quickly stuffed it between the yellowish pages of her book. Sneaking a look to the Enchanter to make sure his attention wasn't on her, she carefully unfolded and read it.

"Tonight," it said. "Same place, same time, new tricks!"

She locked eyes with the mischievous blond apprentice across the table from her. A slight nod, her blue eyes twinkling, and Anders had to suppress his smile. She raised an eyebrow just barely in a secret question she was sure he would understand, and his lips pursed in an expression she knew spelt mischief. One corner of his mouth went up in a shadow of a smug little smile, the same one that Anders always had when he mastered some new spell, way before his fellow apprentices, or managed to confound his teachers with new spells and abilities.

Solona's mouth curled in an almost identical smile. Well. Anders had a new trick, huh? She had one too. After all, they were both prodigies, the most talented, promising apprentices the Tower had seen since Irving had been dragged through these doors as a young boy.

And that was ages ago.

Anders wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, and she choked back a giggle that nearly escaped her. A strict look from Enchanter Stuffypants, as Anders was known to call him, and they both returned to their books, Anders with a bored expression and she with a small smile plying around her bowlike, pouty mouth.

Anders and she had been brought to the Circle just days apart from each other- they had been the same age, both much older than when children usually show magic. Two adolescents all alone in an unfamiliar, threatening environment, with the recent trauma of being ripped from their families still fresh in their eyes. It had been no surprise they'd gravitated towards each other from the start. They had both been precocious, talented beyond their years, frighteningly intelligent with a mischievous, rebellious streak and a playful nature. The naughty little imp in her had found its perfect match in the one in him- they had become fast friends, partners in pranks, the Tower's 'Rascally Duo'. The cry of 'you little monsters' was as common as their names. In fact, she was sure some people knew them by that title alone.

She snuck a look his way and sighed. They weren't so little any more. Back then, they had both been lanky, skinny kids, just on the brink of adolescence, all legs and no grace. But Anders had grown into a mighty fine specimen of a young man since then and she had long ago grown into a curvy, graceful young woman. She could still remember how curious Anders had been when her curves had started filling out, and how she had teased him about the pathetic growth of downy soft fuzz he had tried to cultivate into a beard- and failed.

They had explored their budding sexualities together, feeling at first as if what they were doing was very close to incest- they had been growing up as brother and sister, after all. It hadn't started like that- in a Tower where adult Enchanters looked at you sternly for asking questions they thought inappropriate, every change in their own bodies had brought fear and panic- she could still remember when she had gotten her first blood and she had run to Anders, thinking she was dying, and how he had blanched in fear. Sometimes, she thought Anders had started training as healer because he had so many questions about the way their bodies were changing- not that he wasn't immensely talented at healing anyway. She could still remember, a smile coming to her mouth with the memory, when Anders had avoided her for days, ashamed to admit that he'd had an...accident, as he had put it, in his sleep. Relentless prompting had resulted, until a red-faced, mortified Anders had admitted to his first wet dream.

The nostalgic smile on her face widened a bit as she forgot about her book and just stared into space, remembering. Explorations that had started off from curiosity had soon evolved into touches and kisses and then heavy petting, as they had learned what it meant to be male and female together, until one night, when they had both been about sixteen years old, they had taken each other's virginity.

Amazingly, though, their friendship had not only survived, it had flourished. Even more unbelievable than that was the fact that they had never fallen in love with each other, they hadn't felt the slightest inkling of romantic feelings towards each other.

They were just friends- with benefits.

They'd both taken on other lovers too, hurried, secretive couplings in hidden nooks of the Tower. They were both curious, sensual creatures, and life in the Tower was stressful- no one could blame the apprentices for wanting to blow off some steam. In fact, she suspected the templars knew of these secret liaisons, and turned a blind eye to them. The Enchanters certainly did, because they had been distributing contraceptive potions to all the girls in the Tower since puberty. Anders and she had both played around, experimented with their sexuality- she could still remember Anders telling her all about his first experience with a man (Karl, she thought was his name) and she had shared all of her own experimentations with him, often laughing and blushing together.

In a different place, in a different life, they could have fallen in love with each other. But not here, not in the Tower, where having something you couldn't bear to lose was a weapon to be used against you. Because, just like all other places, just like in every other lifestyle, it hadn't all been rainbows and roses. Life in the Tower wasn't tough, but it wasn't easy either. Just like in every other place, there were pitfalls that you had to be aware of, and a monster or two hidden under beds and in dark corners. There were templars one needed to give a wide berth; there were others that they knew would tolerate their antics with an indulgent smile. There were mages that were just as bad- if not worse- than the worst templars, mages with cold, calculating eyes, that gave Solona the cold willies as she went by and felt their eyes trailing after her.

There were rumours in every generation of rapes- it wasn't just the templars that were always guilty, that was the scariest part. There were rumours of secret, forbidden romances, as well, of children being born in the secret rooms in the dungeons, of young mothers wailing as their babies were taken away from them. Solona was not naive; she knew ugliness like that happened outside the Circle as well, but here, they were more vulnerable than most. But she tried not to worry, not too much- Anders had her back, and she had his.

The blond mage had been there for her when her first adolescent crush had broken her heart; she had been there for him when he had one day been dragged back from the dungeons, after one of the templars took it upon himself to discipline the unruly child he had been; she had wiped away the blood from the lashes on his back, crying all the while, as he had clenched his teeth and endured. He had been there- standing over her with his fists bloodied and screaming bloody murder- when one of the Senior Enchanters had cornered her in a hallway, and made lewd comments before throwing her to the floor; she had been there when Anders had been locked up for three weeks after his first escape, sneaking past sympathetic templars to stay outside his door and sing to him, so he wouldn't feel alone.

They had always been there for each other- they knew each other inside-out. It was Anders that had first alerted her to what the strange little pitter-patter her heart was doing when she went past himwas, and it was her that knew all of Anders' escape attempts beforehand and helped him prepare, after trying in vain to dissuade him.

Life would have been good, even with Anders' rebellious streak blooming into a full-blown revolt. He had already attempted to escape more than three times- without counting the attempts where he hadn't gotten further than the Tower gates. Any other apprentice would have been tranquilled long ago, but Anders was Irving's star pupil- he got away with solitary confinement and loss of privileges. In any case, even with Anders' revolutionary agenda, life would have been good for Solona- she would be Harrowed soon, and be an Enchanter. She would have been perfectly content with her life in the Tower; it would have been good - if he hadn't been transferred to the Circle.

She sighed again as the image of a man she couldn't stop thinking about floated into her mind, and got shushed rather strictly once more. Anders' eyes twinkled at her. He conjured a small spark of electricity and touched it to the metal leg of the table making everyone except Solona jolt and gasp in shock- she knew well enough to pull back.

"Anders," Enchanter Samael, aka Stuffypants, hissed. "Behave!"

"Sorry," Anders whispered with a smile on his face that was anything but apologetic. "It got away from me."

"Don't do it again, or this," Enchanter Samael lifted the cane by his leg, "will get away from me as well."

Other people from the neighbouring tables protested at the noise and at that time exactly, the heavy stomping of metal encased feet echoed down the corridor leading to the Library doors.

"Change of the guard!" a voice outside shouted, and the templar by the door opened up to let the new rotation in, just as the men that had been stationed around the library started filing out. Solona blinked. These men were usually so quiet she had started thinking of them as statues, like those suits of armour nobles had decorating their halls. She watched as one of the templars that had been directly opposite her stretched and saluted the man that was quickly making his way towards him to relieve him of his post.

"Your Ser Hottie is here," Anders found the chance to lean in and whisper in her ear, making her cheeks instantly blush. Indeed, stepping into the spot of the same templar that she had been observing was none other than the subject of her deepest, darkest fantasies.

Solona's face reddened even more as Anders gave her a knowing look. The tall templar moved into position, weaving gracefully between tables and bookshelves, despite his bulky armour. He had his metal helmet under one hand and was looking around the tables with a genuine look of envy on his handsome, chiselled face. For the first time, Solona felt bad for a templar- at least she would be sitting down. She could see the longing looks he was giving the books and wondered what kind of education he had been given in the Chantry. Probably just the basics, the poor man. The Chantry didn't want thinkers as templars. She was getting educated, while he had to stand there, like a metal encased statue; for a man that looked as alert and curious as Cullen, that had to be torture.

He settled into the nook directly across from her, ran a hand through his short strawberry blond hair, and then settled his helmet in place, hiding that handsome face from view. All she could see now was his eyes thought that narrow slit in the helmet- those warm eyes, the colour of wild honey. For a moment, she thought that his eyes met hers, and she gave him a slight smile, her cheeks blushing. He shifted in his place and looked to the other direction, avoiding her gaze. Solona's mouth pouted and she turned to her book with a resigned sigh as the Enchanter at the head of the table rapped his fingers on the table and demanded silence.

"Quiet! Quiet all of you!" he chastised his students that had found the perfect opportunity to start whispering and giggling with one another. Heedless of the greyed mage, Anders leaned across the table to whisper in her ear.

"Don't stare like that, Solona baby," he drawled with a hint of laughter in his voice. "You'll give the man the hiccups."

"Anders!" Enchanter Samael raised his voice.

"Gee weez, old man," Anders drawled. "Add some fibre to your diet, will you?"

"Detention after class, Anders!"

"How original."

"Don't make me turn it into a few days of solitary confinement, Anders."

Solona kicked him under the table, trying to make him stop antagonising the old man. It was true that Enchanter Samael was overly stuffy and strict, and that he disliked Anders intensely, but he was a good teacher- and an elder. "Don't be such a cad," she whispered to him.

"Detention for you too, Solona!"

"What?" she sputtered. "But...but..."

Anders laughed- he couldn't help it.

Detention meant that Anders and Solona had to sit all alone in one of the empty storage rooms with only a templar watching on for company. They had been given a mountain of laundry to sort through, along with a basket of socks and underwear that needed mending.

"I wonder who used to do all this before we two got to the Circle," Anders said as he was folding a pair of underclothes. He looked up to the rather large pair and wrinkled his nose. "I bet you my lunch these belong to Ser Arthur," he mumbled. "No one else has an arse the size of a small house."

The templar behind them coughed into his hand.

"Come on," Anders smiled cheekily to the man. "You know it's true. Any larger and he'd have to go through the corridors sideways."

The man growled, and shot Anders a chastising look through his helmet.

"Aren't you a little chatterbox now?" Anders returned to his folding. "Aren't you going to say something?" he turned to Solona, who shot him a miffed look and returned to darning a pair of socks.

"I got detention because of you!" she hissed. "Again." She held up her needle to him. "I hate sewing, Anders. I hate it!"

"Poor little princess," Anders mocked her. "Careful you don't prick a finger, there, or ray-of-sunshine here might think you're about to go mawhaha on him and turn into an abomination."

The templar shifted nervously.

"He was just joking, Ser Vincent," Solona was quick to reassure the templar, who was a new recruit and a little jumpy. "Don't mind him. He's always like that- a complete and utter idiot."

"I stand offended, hurt, and acutely indignant."

"Like I care. Keep doing that, and a certain mage I know will not have dessert tonight," she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Oh, really?" Anders replied with a cheeky, suggestive smile. "And I wanted some cream tonight. Darn." He waved a sock at her, showing her a big hole in the heel. "Darn, woman."

She laughed, despite the fact that she was genuinely angry at him. Damn it, people were beginning to complain to her about her clumsy stitching- she was in here darning socks that often! Half of these detention times were his fault, too.

Well...if she was going to be honest with herself, half of his detention time was because of her. But she wasn't in a mood to be fair right now- she had pricked her fingers more times than she could count. Plus, she was missing out on Chantry service. Not that she was an overly pious sort of person, but it was the only time apprentices and templars sort of mingled- and she knew Cullen would be there, bent on his knees, his helmet off so she could gaze on his handsome face all she wanted.

"Why don't you get a needle and darn some yourself," she threw a sock at the blond mage. "Don't be a sexist, Anders. It's unattractive- and you're ugly enough as it is."

The templar let a little laugh escape him, then cleared his throat and straightened his back again.

"These fingers are too delicate for pointy needles and scrubbing floors, sweetheart, you know that," Anders wiggled his long, elegant fingers in front of her face.

"Don't remind me we also have to scrub the common room floor, Anders," she grumbled. "I'm not doing any scrubbing. Not on your life."

Anders leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Oh, but do you know who has guard duty in the common room, Solona?" he purred in her ear. "Wouldn't you like to get down on all fours and scrub while he's watching?"

A naughty smile lit up her face at that. She licked her lips a little at the thought; her, down on her knees, her backside in the air, her robes tucked up between her thighs, while Cullen watched. She smiled brightly, then resumed her sewing with a cheery smile, humming, while Anders laughed.

The young templar just removed his helmet and scratched his head, puzzled by her suddenly cheerful mood.