It was late; past curfew in fact, but Niamh couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about Jowan. She had betrayed him, told First Enchanter Irving everything. Jowan had been her best friend since she arrived at the tower and she practically condemned him! Now he was gone; he had escaped the tower during the commotion that Enchanter Ulrick had made with his return, but she knew the templars would be looking for him. When they caught him, he would be killed, or worse; be made tranquil. Even if most of the tower was distracted by Ulrick's stories of Ostagar, it wouldn't last long enough for Jowan's memory to disappear. Part of her hoped he might escape for good, the same part of her that hoped he would forgive her some day. She knew, however, neither one of them would come true.
The halls were dark when Niamh opened the door to exit the Enchanter's quarters when she was certain everyone was asleep. She summoned a small flame in the palm of her hand as she shut the door behind her as quietly as she could. The hallway before her was quiet and empty; not a templar in sight. This was normal in the Ferelden Circle, the patrols tended to be more on the lax side. Templars did wander the halls, but they were few and far-between and it was easy for mages to evade them, though Niamh never tried. Being Irving's star pupil, she wasn't one to willingly get herself into trouble. Tonight, however, she needed this escape. Her destination wasn't far, after all. It would be quick and quiet and it would calm her heart if not just a little, perhaps even help her sleep.
Niamh reached the chapel within a few minutes. She lit a few brazers in the room to light her way as she strode to one of the Statues of Andraste. Extinguishing the flame in her hand, she knelt before the Holy Figure. Bowing her head, her white hair fell to her face and she closed her eyes, beginning her prayer.
"Blessed are they who stand before The Corrupt and Wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the Peacekeepers, the champions of the just." Niamh was so enveloped in her chant that she did not hear the footsteps stopping behind her, nor did she realize that a young man's voice joined her own.
"Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's Will is written." As the last verse was being said, she noticed the voice speaking with her and felt the presence behind her. She turned to see a young man in templar armor standing very close behind her. She jumped, falling back toward the statue.
"Cullen!" she yelped, "er, I mean Ser Cullen…I uh…" Niamh couldn't help but stutter. Not only was she embarrassed to be found breaking curfew, she was embarrassed that he had to discover her doing so. True, she was one of his charges, but she liked him to think of her as mature and knowledgeable. Despite him being a templar and her a mage, Niamh wanted Cullen to think she was more than just one of his charges; she wanted him to think she was pretty and she wanted him to like her. She found him to be the most handsome of all the templars in the circle, not that she felt this way about any others. He was also sweet and caring, he was shy as well, always seemed to stutter when they spoke. Yet now, she was the one stuttering.
Cullen raised his hands in protest.
"It's alright; I'm not here to reprimand you. Well…I was before I saw it was you. But since it is you, well I know you're not doing anything wrong. Well, you are…sort of…doing something wrong. I mean, it's past curfew…but I…" Cullen noticed Niamh still lying on the stone floor with a look of shock on her face. He stopped his ranting.
"Are you alright?" he asked gently.
"Y-Yes." Niamh replied.
"Here, let me help you." Cullen held his hand out to assist Niamh in standing. She smiled slightly and placed her hand gently in his, which was covered by his greaves.
Cullen felt his skin prickle. As a templar, he could feel her magic, but this wasn't what was making him react. Niamh was beautiful; he had always thought that, since the day she was assigned to him. She made his heart nearly leap out of his chest if she so much as glanced his way. In this moment, with her small hand in his, he wanted so much to feel her skin. In his nervous state, however, he tugged a bit too forcefully on Niamh's hand and she crashed into his chest upon being pulled up. Both of them turned bright red, as this was the closest to each other they had ever been. Cullen's breastplate was cold under Niamh's cheek and she wished more than anything to hear his heartbeat. Suddenly, she felt Cullen's arms wrap around her. She, in turn, slid her arms around his armor as best she could until they both stood together, alone, embracing. After what seemed like an eternity, a wonderful eternity, Cullen jumped, stepping back from Niamh.
"I-I am so sorry. I didn't—I-I mean I…did mean to do that but I…I shouldn't have and I'm sorry." He was starting to back away from her, afraid of his own actions.
"It's alright, Cullen. I—"
"No, you are my charge. It was, inappropriate. I just…"
"What?"
Cullen sighed, was he really going to tell her this?
"I…find it difficult to control myself around you. Ever since I first met you I've…thought differently of you than any other mage. I shouldn't think of you this way, it's…it's wrong but…" he paused, "I have tried to purge these thoughts of you from my mind. I have prayed for answers but..."
Niamh stepped forward, placing a hand on his forearm.
"Maybe…maybe these feelings aren't so wrong. Perhaps…it is the Maker's will that we."
"I am a templar, and you a mage. We should not…"
"But Cullen I…" Niamh pauses for only a moment, trying to catch the words as they escape, "I love you!"
Cullen's eyes widened. He had dreamed of Niamh saying those words to him for so long…was he dreaming now? He could see tears brimming in the young mage's eyes. He had never seen her so desperate, so vulnerable before. She always seemed so mature and knowledgeable, but now; now he wanted nothing more than to embrace her again, to make her smile. He stepped closer to her. Perhaps she was right…perhaps this was the Maker's will. Why else would this moment be happening? Her words lit a spark in him and before he knew what he was doing, his hands cupped Niamh's cheeks. Leaning down, his lips met hers, softly and gently. Niamh's arms slid around his neck, pulling herself closer as Cullen's arms went from her cheeks to her waist. It was a kiss that was long overdue, a kiss waiting years to occur, and her it was; finally. They kissed for a long time and when they parted, Niamh was beaming. Suddenly all of her troubles had faded away and all she wanted was Cullen.
"Let's run away!" Niamh exclaimed, taking Cullen's hands.
"Wait…what?!"
"Let's just…let's just go, Cullen! We'll can leave together and never look back!"
"We…we can't just leave Niamh."
"Of course we can! We can leave right now!"
"What about your phylactery? Isn't that—"
"Destroyed; Jowan destroyed it when we broke into the chamber. I'm free, Cullen."
"But…what about the Templars? Surely they'll come looking for us."
Niamh paused. She clearly hadn't thought through this plan, but she didn't care. This was her chance, their chance to be together, Mage and Templar, free to live their lives outside the confines of the tower; Free to be in love. An idea came to her after a few moments.
"You could tell the templars guarding the door that the Knight Commander told you to escort me to Denerim for judgement for assisting the Blood Mage, Jowan."
"But you were found innocent." Cullen protested.
"They don't know that. All they know is what Jowan did and that I was there with him. The…Knight Captain sent you because I am your charge and he didn't want to leave the tower without his authority."
Cullen thought on the idea for a few minutes before he responded.
"That…just might work." He looked into her bright, blue eyes, "Could we really do this, Niamh? Could we really run away together?"
Niamh gently cupped his face.
"We can. And we will."
Cullen smiled. He felt a flutter in his chest when he thought about the idea of running away with Niamh. He felt like a child again, giddy with excitement. This was really going to happen; the moment he dreamed of for so long. Cullen leaned down and kissed Niamh quickly, several times, letting out a giggle as he parted from her.
"Let's go then!" Cullen exclaimed. He had always been a good templar, always followed the rules, but something in Niamh made him want to throw it all away just to be with her. In this moment, everything felt so right; nothing could possibly go wrong.
"I just have to get a few things from my room and then we can go." Niamh said, kissing Cullen's cheek as she scurried to the door. He was quick to follow and grabbed her hand.
"Wait." He whispered, "Let me have a look…just in case there's anyone else on patrol." Niamh nodded and stepped back, letting Cullen peer out into the dark hallway. After a few moments, he motioned to Niamh to go. She slipped past him, summoning a small flame in her palm. Light on her feet, she seems to glide down the hallway, leaving Cullen slightly mesmerized at her gracefulness. He kept a distance behind her, just in case someone were to see them, and watched her open the door to her quarters and disappear into the darkness.
Cullen stood outside the Enchanters' Chamber door waiting for Niamh to gather what little possessions she had. During this time, his mind began to turn against him.
"What if she doesn't come?" he thought, "what if she's using you to escape?"
"No, she wouldn't do that." The other part of him thought, "she said it herself, she loves you. She wants to be with you! Why else would she risk so much?"
While he was deep in thought, he heard the door next to him open and it made him jump slightly. Out stepped the white-haired mage he would escape with. He beamed as their eyes met.
"Ready then?" Cullen whispered.
"More ready than I've ever been." Niamh replied, taking his hand. She had a small satchel over her shoulder that held her pillow, blanket, and an amulet given to her by her family. Niamh looked up at Cullen.
"Do you need anything from the Templars' quarters?" she asked. Cullen smiled.
"I have everything I need right here." He squeezed her hand, then blushed, "B-besides, templars…aren't allowed to keep any possessions." He rubbed the back of his neck with his open hand. Niamh giggled quietly and began to pull him down the hallway.
The two neared the staircase to the apprentice quarters on the first floor of the tower. Quietly, Cullen opened the door for Niamh and guided her down the stairs. He peered out the door at the bottom to make sure no one was on patrol. It was quiet; eerily so…
At night, the halls were always quiet, somber, but tonight was…different. It was the quiet you might hear in a cemetery; the sound of death. Cullen kept a hand on the hilt of his sword as he walked ahead of Niamh. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor. Niamh followed close behind Cullen until she heard a slight splashing noise under her feet; she stopped. Bending down, she put a hand on the puddle of liquid on the floor. She pulled her hand up to her face. As her eyes adjusted, she saw just what the liquid was. Her curious expression quickly turned to one of horror.
"C-Cullen!" the terror in her voice caused him to turn.
"What?! What's wrong?" he hurried to Niamh's side. She lifted her bloodied hand so he could see.
"Blood…" Niamh said breathlessly, her eyes wide with panic, "Who's blood?!"
Cullen was silent. He didn't know what to say or do. Tears filled Niamh's eyes.
"Cullen, who's blood is this?!" her voice grew louder as she became more and more frightened.
"I-I don't know!"
"There's so much…" she replied, "I've never seen this much blood…"
"Maybe Jowan wasn't the only blood mage…"
"No! This is too much!" Niamh pointed to the pool of blood at the base of the door, "Blood magic only uses a little…never…"
Suddenly, there was a noise from behind the door. More and more blood flowed from under the wooden frame as the growl intensified. Cullen and Niamh looked at each other as the young templar unsheathed his longsword. Niamh put a hand on his.
"Together." She said, mustering a smile. He nodded back to her as he slowly gripped the door handle and turned. As the door opened, the horror only became greater.
The room was filled with corpses of templars and mage apprentices. A grotesque figure crouched over one of the bodies, caressing it softly.
"Sweet Maker!" Cullen exclaimed, covering his nose to keep the stench out.
"What have you done to them?!" Niamh shouted to the figure. It turned, revealing the face of a demon.
"More mortals for me to feast upon? Excellent." Its voice was low and coarse, "Looks like another little templar has come to play as well!"
Cullen had fully taken in the horror of the room. He knew the templars who littered the floor; some were his friends.
"You murdered them!" he screamed, "Roland! Shae! Conan! They're all dead!" Cullen's voice became low and angry. The demon scoffed.
"Weak, all of them. So easily taken, how easily they bleed." The demon hissed.
"Maker take you, demon! You will not kill anymore!" Cullen rushed the demon , but the creature easily knocked the sword from his grasp.
"Cullen!" Niamh cried out. The demon noticed this and began to taunt her.
"My, my; it seems the little mage has feelings for the little templar. Pity I must take him from you."
The demon lunged at Cullen, now open to attack.
"CULLEN, NO!" Niamh instinctively dove in front of him, the demon's sharp claws gliding through her flesh like a knife through butter. Her eyes widened as the life drained slowly from her. Cullen looked on in horror as the demon slid its hand from her, leaving her to fall to the ground like a stone.
"NIAMH!" Cullen let out a blood curdling scream as he cradled the body of the young woman. He didn't care what was going to happen now. He looked up at the demon.
"Just do it." He said, "just kill me…" The demon scoffed.
"Kill you? Why, that would be just too easy wouldn't it?" The demon snapped its fingers and two new mages stepped into the room, in an irreversible trance, "No…I think I would like a new plaything."
"You wanted to kill me! Just do it!" Cullen begged, holding Niamh's limp body to his chest as she still clung to life, spitting up more and more blood. A smile curled on the demon's distorted lips.
"Take him to the 4th floor." It ordered, "We will see how long it will take this little toy to break." The mages leapt to Cullen's sides and grabbed his arms with a force he had never encountered before. He could not break free of their grasp.
Niamh fell limp to the floor, reaching out for her templar as he was dragged from her.
"Cul-len…" she groaned weakly. Cullen watched as her hand fell to the ground and the life had finally drained completely from her; she was dead. He watched her die and now he was being taken somewhere to become a demons' pet. Just hours before, he was to run away with the girl of his dreams; now he was being dragged away into a nightmare.
