Disclaimer: Oh, I wish I owned Dragon Age…but alas…
Every Templar was trained to know one truth: mages were a danger to themselves and to humanity. The apostates were mages that were beyond control. Wild, feral and dangerous like the beasts deep in the forests. Circle mages were no better. Granted that they could be controlled in the Circle of Magi, confined and eliminated should the need arise. However, there were times that even the most compliant mage could turn. Even caged beasts could turn on their keepers.
Cullen recalled seeing a man in Denerim who kept a wolf close to him like a dog. The man was a trapper, and would journey into the depths of the Bercilian forest to bring back captured predators for the amusement of nobles. He claimed he found the wolf as a pup after he had killed its mother. He said he felt pity for it and took it in. Pity, turned to fondness as the pup grew and Cullen recalled seeing the trapper share his meals with the wolf, pet the wolf like he would a dog and even talk to it, his face close to its own. Cullen supposed the fondness turned to love but just as he was leaving Denerim, a full templar, for his new post at the Circle Tower, he heard disturbing news. The wolf had turned on the trapper and ripped his throat out as he bent down to feed it.
It was a chilling reminder to Cullen that even the tamest of beasts could turn and affection towards any wild and dangerous being can and often did end in ruin.
This lesson seemed to be on the forefront of his mind as he took his post at the Tower. He had stood in on several Harrowings, all but one failed. He regarded the mages of the Circle like caged wolves or bears, tame enough, but always with the potential to turn and kill. Indifference toward his charges, allowed for no sentiment to arise. He was what a templar should be.
That is, until an apprentice came to his attention. He was at the tower for a year before he noticed her. There were so many apprentices and so few survived the Harrowing that it was useless to learn their names. But…Apprentice Amell was different. She was a fine specimen indeed, svelte figure, graceful as a cat. Her complexion was pale from the years in the tower. She had doe eyes of a peculiar shade that looked green in one light and blue in another. She always had her long hair in two coils at the nape of her neck.
Cullen could not deny that Apprentice Amell was breath taking, nor could he overlook her power as a mage that could take his last breath away. She was the First Enchanter's apprentice, chosen because of an incident in a farming town outside of Highever that involved weapons chasing bandits away.
The templar watched her from afar until one day when he was stationed near the stairs to the third floor. Apprentice Amell had entered the First Enchanter's study for a lesson. The door was open and the angle that he was standing at allowed for a view of the lesson. Amell was working on a lightning spell with surprising ease. Her casting was working its own magic on Cullen and he almost allowed three young apprentices on the third floor.
As he turned the young ones away, he heard footsteps lead to the First Enchanter's door. The apprentice came into view, rouge strands of her honey blond hair poking out near her face. She had an arm full of texts and scrolls and an ivory and blue shawl was draped around her to keep out the cold of the tower.
"Read those texts I gave you about Creation spells for next time. And Danae," First Enchanter Irving added as she turned to leave, "Please stop asking Templar Bran if you can leave the tower. You've been here since you were a child and he doubts any apprentice of mine could be so forgetful."
"It's not so much forgetfulness as much as…" she paused trying to find the right word and scrunching her nose in the process, "…a test of positive thinking."
The First Enchanter laughed as he ushered her out with a fatherly hand guiding hand on her back. "In other words you will ask Bran until he grows tired of answering you and give in. My girl, I would advise you to give up this test. We allow you out on the grounds whenever we can, allow that to be enough."
"But it's not. We can barely see what lies beyond the lake from the windows in the upper levels! I don't see why we mages can't-" She paused at the elder mage's held up hand.
"My dear, we are embarking on a conversation of politics but I am afraid that I must finish a few things before a meeting with Greagoir. If you'll excuse me." He quietly shut the door behind him, leaving Cullen and the apprentice in the empty hall.
She walked a few paces and then rested her head against the stone wall and heaved a sigh before turning to walk down the opposite end of the hall. As she walked away, her shawl slipped off of the crook of her arm. She paused and looked down at the shawl on the floor. Cullen almost let out a laugh as Apprentice Amell turned in a circle, her arms too full of reading material to grab the shawl.
"Allow me," Cullen called out, leaving his post and striding swiftly to her.
She gave him a look that was a mixture of defiant and frightened. It wasthe look of a deer that crossed paths with a hunter. She stepped back as Cullen reached out to grab the shawl.
"Thank you, but I can take care of this." Her voice was crisp and clear to hear. Cullen decided it suited such a beautiful creature.
Cullen didn't reply but slowly grabbed the corner of the shawl that was on the floor and gently draped it across her shoulder so as not to spook her into flight.
"Thank you but that wasn't necessary." She informed him, looking him in the eyes.
Up close, her eyes seemed to be green and her skin was as pale as marble. Her gaze and the smell of lemon and lavender made the man trained to not be taken in by mages, freeze. It was a different kind of magic, though, one that the Chantry could not control.
She was gazing beyond to the end of the hall, though where the same young apprentices were attempting to enter the Great Hall before dinner.
"Look behind you, Templar." She told him after a moment.
"Andraste's breath!" Cullen cursed, turning his back to her as he called to the apprentices that the hall was closed before dinner.
The didn't heed him and Cullen raced down the hall, certain that the Knight-Commander would be livid when he found Cullen left his post.
The clear voice that spoke had so much authority that he stopped in his tracks. It took Cullen a moment to realize that it was Apprentice Amell speaking.
"Young ones, why don't you go down and ask Templar Bran if you can go outside?"
The young apprentices rushed to Amell. They appeared to be no older than eight years old and were probably new to the Circle.
"Really?" One cried.
"You betcha. And if Templar Bran says 'no' just ask louder; it's part of the game!" Amell replied, watching the young apprentices rush off.
Cullen took a moment to admire the lopsided smirk on her face before he spoke and made her turn her attention back to him. "Thank you, but that wasn't necessary."
The smile spread further across her lips as she answered, "Danae Amell never forgets a favor…." She trailed off, prompting him for his name.
"Oh, ah…Cullen." He stammered.
Danae nodded and turned to walk down the hall. She spoke over her shoulder, "If I were you, Cullen, I would return to your post before anyone else creeps through."
She stalked down the hall before Cullen could respond and he returned to his post, looking over his shoulder at her, like a hunter who had just caught glimpse of a she-wolf in the wild.
A/N: Well, here it is! And yes, I know I took the 'it's part of the game' line from Gilmore Girls, but gosh darn it, it just sort of fit. Not quite sure where this will go, but it seems that what Cullen felt towards Amell was more than a simple crush and a bit more obsessive. Hmmm….perhaps I shall have to put in cake. Please review and give me your thoughts.