It is cold in Kirkwall today and even colder in the Gallows, where every icy glare the mages give me seems to penetrate my templar armor, piercing my soul with a frost unknown to common folk. I stand by my post, ever so loyal to our Knight-Commander, ever so persuaded that the mages are deserving of the treatment she inflicts upon them. The courtyard is empty—save for a handful of my colleagues, First Enchanter Orsino and his company of mages; the Champion's sister among them—and it is neither because of the rain that wets the slippery, marble tiles, nor due to the necessary curfews that Meredith has ordered. It is because of her arrival. The arrival of Warden Commander Amell., very Hero of Ferelden. The arrival of my only weakness.
"Awful day for Kirkwall to be appreciated by a visitor, don't you think, Knight-Captain Cullen?"
"I would think so, Ser Thrask," I reply. "But I doubt Kirkwall has much to offer, even in a sunny day."
"Indeed," the older man agrees. "Still, considering Meredith invited the Hero, there should be a warmer welcome for her."
To that, I choose not to answer. The drizzle falls on my steel-capped shoulders, producing a tapping sound, which gets more disturbing as each second ticks by. Meredith stands by the main gate, imposing and proud and strong, convinced she is acting as correctly as her role allows. Yet, even I have started doubting her tactics, her irrational acts and the reasons that lie behind them. I have started doubting the danger mages pose, and their so-called temptations. I have started doubting the need of imprisoning them at all. And, most of all, I have started doubting myself for still defending her against anyone who's valiant enough to question her. It is difficult not to doubt anything when the Hero of Ferelden herself—the thoughts of whom I had tried so much to avoid—haunts my mind, turning my flesh and bones into liquid just as much as she used to back in the Circle, before she became a Grey Warden, before she defeated the Archdemon.
"She's here," Meredith whispers to the elf beside her, her eyes fixed on the boat that docked in the entrance. I shudder in pure anticipation, every cell in my body tingling with just the thought of her approaching. "Orsino, I trust that you will keep your mouth shut and not trouble the Hero with useless talk." It is more of a final order than a statement, but Orsino pays no mind to Meredith's vicious warnings and the glare that follows.
The First Enchanter folds his hands behind his back, starring right ahead. "I think I'm old enough to use my mouth as much as I want, Knight-Commander."
Meredith glares, but the Hero is within hearing distance, so she cannot argue any further. The jingle of armor reaches my ears, the soft thud of rough boots meeting ground, the hard sound of staff bouncing with each step. I blink, and when I open my eyes, she stands in front of Meredith; professional, confident, cautious and ever so beautiful. I breathe hard by now, hard enough that Ser Thrask is giving me worried looks and I tremble. She has changed, that is my first thought. She has grown, she has matured, she is the woman who has slain the Archdemon; she has seen more and been through more than any of us ever will. But when she smiles, her eyes light up in the same way they used to and the corners of her cerise lips twitch her cheeks in those two adorable dimples that make my heart melt, that make me feel naked despite my heavy armor. I feel the need to hide, to curl myself in the corner of my tiny room and forget everything. I don't want her to see me; I don't want her to fix that astonishing gaze of hers on my face, because everything I have denied through all those years will fade away and I will again turn into the self-conscious boy that could not speak a word to her without blushing and shuttering. No, I don't want her to see me.
Or do I? It feels like every cell of my body is begging for a simple glance of hers. Everything in my mind is as messed and tangled as a ball of twine. I take a deep breath; she's the Hero of Ferelden, a skilled professional; she's a hazardous mage, a portal to demons. And I shall treat her no differently than that.
"Welcome to Kirkwall, Hero." Meredith bows her head slightly, not in respect—for she has none of that when it comes to mages—but in greeting. "Thank you for coming. Your support will be needed in these dire times."
Warden Commander Amell raises an eyebrow and the only thing I can focus on is the way her pale skin delicately stretches across her brow and, all of a sudden, I am wondering what it would feel like to run my fingers over that soft forehead, those smooth cheeks and glistening lips. The rain trickles down her nose, licking her skin slowly and deliberately and I have never wanted to be rain more than I do this moment. I swallow hard. "I will do my best, even though I hear you have a Champion of your own to rely on." My eyes close as I attempt to shove away the longing and urges this voice evokes in me.
"He's good at what he does." Meredith shrugs. "But he's no Hero of Ferelden." Her voice is as sheer as poison, yet I know the Hero's face too well to understand that she is not willing to support the Knight-Commander's cause. "This is First Enchanter Orsino from the mages, and my second in command, Knight-Captain Cullen. They shall be present during our conversation."
I'm left with my eyes widened in fear—I haven't been prepared for a straightforward introduction, much less stepping forward like Meredith is now beckoning me to. I sweat, even though the cold is chilling enough to pass through my cuirass. Yet my legs bring me forth, next to the Knight-Commander. My long years of training are kind enough to remind me to bow and automatically say; "Warden Commander, it is an honor to meet you again." I'm grateful to realize that my voice, even though hoarse, doesn't shake. As I straighten up, I catch her eyes and the flicker of shock that swirls in them, but I blink, and it is gone as quickly as it came.
"I could say the same, Cullen." Her sweet voice caresses my name ever so delicately as she smiles and it is all I can do not to fall apart right here and now. My knees buckle and the urge to grab her and embrace her form in my arms, to feel her flesh against mine and her lips whispering in my ear comes back, just like it did back in the Circle of Ferelden. I breathe in as discreetly as possible. "Oh—I'm sorry. It is Knight-Captain now, right? Time has changed you." Her orbs travel over the inches of my face and I can practically feel her gaze grazing my skin. I gulp, because I suddenly feel like she can see right through me.
"It—it has changed us both." I struggle to maintain an even tone.
"Cullen has been very dedicated to his duty," Meredith quips and I cannot decide whether I am grateful or annoyed by her interference. "That is why I wanted him to be here today. Come, we have a lot to discuss."
The Warden averts her gaze and I can see the slightest blush reddening her smooth cheeks. She follows Meredith in and this is the first time I notice she's not alone. There are more people with her; a dwarf, broad and stinky, grunts through his bronze beard as he walks beside her and another mage, kind and caring nods at me as she passes by—that one I recognize from the circle, Wynne—but all I can look at is her. Her and only her; she consumes my mind and, suddenly, Uldred's sick depravities, things that have disgusted me for so long, that have given me nightmares from which I woke sweating and screaming, do not seem as important anymore.
This isn't right. Mages are supposed to be dangerous. Mages are to be shown any kind of mercy. They are prey; prey to demons and themselves. But, as I look at her now, watching in pure fascination as she laughs to the dwarf's request for cheap ale, as she runs a hand through her wet hair to brush her luscious locks out of her twinkling eyes, I cannot help but realize; my chances of giving in to her temptation are bigger than hers of giving in to demon's temptation ever were. I'm more dangerous than she is. To both her and myself.
We all have weaknesses—hers is demons. And mine is her.
I may write a continuation to this story, with a dialogue between Cullen and the Warden? It depends on how much you people want to see something like that. This is my first Dragon Age fic, and it is different than anything I have ever written; I do not usually use first POV and Simple Present tense. But I wanted to present a deep insight into Cullen's thoughts. Hopefully, I succeeded.
I also didn't give the Warden any name or appearance—I want you to imagine your own character in her place.
Thanks to my beta, NinjaKick, for editing this!
Please, review and let me know what you think of it!
~Dora.