Faire Day
Chapter 1
Summerday. It was Summerday!
Lexa vaulted out of her bed in the apprentice's quarters and sped towards Jowan.
"Wake up, wake up!" she yelled at the groggy mage. He rolled over and glared at her.
"Andraste's ass, Amell…why are you yelling at me?"
Lexa shot him an agitated glance. "Get up you nerd," she hissed fiercely. "It's Summerday! How can you be so calm about this? WE GET TO LEAVE THE TOWER."
Jowan snorted his acknowledgement and rolled back over. "Its hours til we leave Lexa, and I, for one, don't intend to be exhausted on our only day of freedom. Go away."
"Fine," she huffed. "I'll leave you to it, then." Lexa rolled her eyes, gathered her clean robes and toiletries, and flounced off toward the bathroom.
She climbed into the large stone tub and relaxed as the warm water washed away the chill of the Tower in early morning. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander about the excitement of the Summerday Festival. It was a special privilege for the apprentices her age to attend the celebration in Redcliffe. Granted, it seemed like the entire battalion of Templars stationed at Kinloch Hold would accompany them, but even the thought of her ever-vigilant watchers couldn't spoil the excitement she felt at being free from the Tower for a day.
She wondered what it would be like. What would she eat? What would the merchant's stalls hold? She'd heard about the flower garlands the sisters in the Chantry spent weeks preparing to decorate the town. When she was younger, she watched the lights from paper lanterns that dotted the sky at sundown and longed to stand beneath them as they rose above the water. She couldn't wait to dance, actually dance to the ready music she knew would fill the air all day. Lexa heard the occasional lap harp played by one of the Senior Enchanters in the Tower, but to hear real music! She couldn't contain her joy, and a small giggle slipped out and echoed off the enormous walls of the bathing chamber.
Her water growing tepid, Lexa washed quickly and dressed before the damp could chill her again. She ran her linen towel vigorously through her thick brown hair, relaxing into the lavender scent it left on her damp head. Plaiting it quickly and pinning back the unruly shorter hair at her crown and temples, Lexa put on her favorite robes. They were red; slit up the left side to allow her freer movement with elbow length sleeves and a scoop neck. She loved the way her light olive skin looked in the color and the way the long column of her neck appeared graceful with her dark hair swept back. Satisfied, she grabbed her dirty clothes and towel and headed off in search of breakfast.
Lexa was just about back to her dorm to drop off her bathing accessories before following the fabulous smells emanating from the dining hall when she heard the tell-tale clanking of a Templar headed her direction. She huffed a bit at the impending loss of privacy, but as she turned the hallway, forgot her annoyance completely as she crashed right into 6 feet of solid silverite plate. Lexa bounced off the Templar like a bird hitting a window. Stunned and disoriented, she sat on the ground where she landed, surrounded by dirty small clothes, soap, and a damp bath towel, trying to catch her breath. As she looked to name the battering-ram that was her assailant, her face and neck turned the same bright cherry red as her robes.
"Of course, it WOULD be him," Lexa thought. "Here I am, blushing like a twit and surrounded by my dirty underwear. Absolutely fabulous." With her heart in her throat, she looked at him and hoped he couldn't see that she blushed for more than just her underwear. His green eyes were full of discomfort, shock, and…mirth? Did he think this was funny? Her mortification slowly gave way to irritation (at herself for letting him see how humiliated she was) and an armored gauntlet reached out to help her up.
"Oh…oh my goodness. I am so sorry miss. I did-didn't hear anyone in the corridor. Please forgive me," Cullen said as he hauled her to her feet.
Lexa made a pretense of dusting herself off, hoping he would not see the breast band displayed in all its glory next to her foot. She looked up and could tell by the beet-red coloring on his face he had, indeed noticed the armful of unmentionables strewn about the hall.
"Don't mention it," she mumbled to the floor at his flustered apology. "I was on my way to breakfast."
Cullen shifted his weight and grabbed a sock out of her hair. He handed it gingerly to her, doing his best to avoid eye contact. "I don't th-think this belongs on your ear," he attempted to joke as she furiously swiped the garment from him and hastily retrieved the rest of her clothing from the hallway. She tossed a look over her shoulder as she sped back to the dorm. He continued to stand in the middle of the hallway, and through his mortification, she swore she saw him chuckle.
-ooooOOOOOOoooo-
It was early, even for him, when Cullen woke. The sky held no hint of the sun yet, and his room was damp and chilly. He reached over to grab a candle only to realize his fire died sometime in the night. Cold and stiff, he grabbed the flint and tinder from his desk and went to work restoring the small bit of heat to his room.
Fire started and candles lit, Cullen made his way over to the basin by the window splashed water on his face. In the mirror, he could see the circles under his eyes were dusky this morning. He should try to go back to bed, he knew, but the excitement and apprehension of the coming day kept him thoroughly awake. It was his first watch away from the Tower, and he was nervous. Excited too, though he could hardly admit it. He wasn't going to jeopardize the safety of the mages in his charge of the safety of the villagers just because he was looking forward to leaving the oppressive stone walls for a day. With a sigh, Cullen finished his toilet, took his lyrium, and began the ritualistic donning of his armor. Since sleep eluded him, he might as well make himself useful, he thought. Geared up, he headed toward breakfast, hoping the kitchen staff was up early in preparation for the day's outing.
After a few fresh biscuits and a huge cup of tea, Cullen felt righted and ready for Summerday. As he aimlessly meandered the hallways, he heard a giggle echo off the walls in the apprentice's dormitory. Wondering who on earth could possibly be awake this early, he headed off in search of the mage, knowing there was probably no one around to guard. Finally, as he passed the dorm, he was unexpectedly waylaid as something solid and red ran right into the middle of his chest plate.
When his ears stopped ringing, Cullen looked about to see just what had almost knocked him over. What he saw, on the floor, was a mage—fresh from the bath and slowly turning an intense shade of pink. As his head cleared he took in the pretty red robes, the long plaited dark brown hair, and the elegant slender neck, and…oh. It was her. It was Amell. And she was surrounded by underwear.
He reached to help her up and mumbled something…some incoherent babbling apology, as she dusted herself off. Maker's breath, was that a breast band by her foot? Was that HER breast band…Cullen made a strangled sound in the back of his throat as he tried, unsuccessfully, to keep his face from answering the blush in hers, as they stood together in petrified mortification. For all this was one of the more embarrassing things to happen to him since he arrived at the Tower, (his life really,) he couldn't help but notice that not only was she as flustered as he, but she managed to get one of her socks stuck in her damp hair. He chuckled a bit as he gave it back to her, trying to lessen the tension between them. She made an embarrassed grab at it, and he could smell the lavender on her hair. She was close enough now that he could see, underneath the layers of blush, her dewy skin, fresh and sweet from her bath. Cullen hoped she couldn't hear his heart trying to beat through his chest, or see the pulse race at his neck as she gathered her small clothes and hurried off. He knew he should follow; she had no one else watching her, but he chuckled to himself, knowing that as uncomfortable as he was, she would need a moment to compose herself. Honestly, he did too. A chance to catch his breath and assume his role as Templar…not babbling idiot. After all, it wasn't his underwear all over the hall…and Cullen laughed silently to himself as he set off to wait for her at breakfast.
