CHAPTER 1

She was their greatest secret. Living proof of their one moment of weakness. At least, that's how the Templar's saw her. Those who knew of her existence did not speak of it, lest the mages overhear. It might give them false hope. The kind of hope that provoked them to lash out against the very Templar's who confined them in the tower.

Fehnra had been there for as long as she could remember. Though, that says little since she could remember nothing before her 6th year. She accepted this early on – after all, she can't miss what she never had, right? And it wasn't as if she had friends to compare lives with. The stone walls were her constant companion. Maker knows she never had any visitors. Actually, that's not entirely true. Wynne comes to see her from time to time. Fehnra knew Wynne cared a great deal for her, but she could not bring herself to do the same. If she found herself longing for Wynne's visits, it would just make the time between them stretch longer.

These thoughts swam through her head as Fehnra traced a pattern on her desk, the rough wood grating against her soft finger. The light shining through her windows illuminated the table, revealing several piles of books, each one at least a few feet tall. Fehnra couldn't bring herself to read them, for their pages were already worn from the numerous times she had turned them. With the books' contents firmly embedded in her mind, she refused to pick them back up until the words were unfamiliar once again.

Fehnra sighed, tapping her foot against the table leg. She had already practiced her magic. The new scorch mark on the wall was proof of that. Fehnra's primal abilities were unmatched by any. At least, that's what Wynne and the Templars told her. She had never had the opportunity to meet another primal mage, and probably never would. How could they expect her to learn control if she was never allowed an instructor? Fehnra lowered her head to the table, lightly banging her head against it in frustration.

Fehnra's banging prevented her from hearing the trap door raise up from the floor, followed by a heavily-plated body. The Templar wobbled precariously, balancing himself on the thin stairs while carrying a tray of food.

Cullen yelped as he felt the stairs beginning to recede into the wall, and placed the tray on the ground as he clambered up and out of the opening. He turned and gently lowered the door back into its place. Cullen grabbed the tray and looked up, only to be met with Fehnra's glowing eyes.

Her eyelids drooped with boredom, and yet that did nothing to dim the brilliancy with which they shined. A waterfall of gold, spilling over her shoulders and waist, concealed her right eye. A waterfall was the only way to describe it, for it shimmered in the light like sun on a lake. 'Yes,' Cullen thought, 'A waterfall of gold. It has to be.' He pried his eyes off the perfect creature in the chair, and saw the blackened spot on the wall to his left. It was a single, concentrated spot, rather than the giant splash he was used to seeing. Her control seemed nearly perfect, an idea he and the other Templars had once thought impossible. If Fehnra could show Gregoir that she was not a danger to others, then perhaps he would allow her to join the rest of the mages…

Cullen seemed to wilt suddenly, turning his head back towards Fehnra. 'Look at her. She can never be like the others. Life would not be kind to her. Not that it is now.' His hands clenched around the tray as he considered the unfairness of it all.

He stepped towards the desk, watching as she shifted a pile of books to make room for her meal. The movement parted her hair slightly, revealing a single, pointed ear. Her features faintly resembled that of an elf, but her face was so perfectly sculpted that she could be mistaken for a creature of myth. When Cullen had first seen her, he had thought her a denizen of the Golden City, hiding on earth from the corruption of the Tevinter Magisters.

'What an outrageous thought that was,' Cullen thought.

Cullen placed the tray on the table, being careful not to touch the tall stacks of books with his large pauldrons.

Fehnra tapped her foot impatiently, having waited long enough as he had stopped to consider her and the wall. "How are you today, Ser Cullen?" she inquired.

"V-very well, Lady Fehnra. I see you've been, um, practicing a great deal since my last visit," Cullen said, gesturing towards the scorch mark on the wall.

"Oh yes," Fehnra said in an amused voice. "It's certainly more concentrated this time. I shudder to think of last years incident!"

Cullen chuckled, reminded of the instance where he and other Templars were awoken in the middle of the night to quench her drapes of the fire that had been consuming them. She claimed she could not sleep, and apparently the alternative was to practice her fire magic. Cullen had never seen Gregoir so angry. So much so, that he had forbidden Fehnra from practicing her magic for a week.

Cullen then sobered, remembering what had come of that punishment. Fehnra, as the templars had found, was so connected to the fade that she had to have an outlet for her magic. And that was to use it. The buildup of magic inside her for just a week put her in a coma for a month. The hidden room was not conducive to her unconscious state, so they were forced to move her to the infirmary. Under constant guard of course.

'What a headache that was. It was hard enough just to keep the entire tower from noticing her presence.' Cullen thought. He knew the month was most stressful on Wynne, who saw Fehnra almost as a daughter.

"Has W-wynne come to visit lately? She uh seemed a b-bit down when I saw her last."

"Not for a few days," Fehnra replied. "She's the best healer the tower has, I suppose she's just been too busy." Fehnra lifted a fork of potatoes to her mouth, savoring her favorite vegetable. She didn't get it often, seeing as the circle tower was in the middle of the forested part of Ferelden, which prevented the starchy vegetable from being grown locally. It was a treat she looked forward to every time Cullen was chosen to bring her the evening meal.

"S-she'll visit soon Lady F-fehnra, I'm sure of it. Wynne adores y-your company," Cullen assured her with an encouraging smile.

"I know," said Fehnra simply. She chewed her food thoughtfully, almost finishing with the chicken that was heaped on one side of her plate. The Templars were sure to give her plenty of protein. Though that did her little good with the small amount of exercise she got.

Cullen shuffled his feet awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself. "W-well, I think I'll just be uh... going, now." He paused, waiting for a response, but none came. He walked towards the trapdoor, dispelling the wards that prevented its opening, and proceeded to open it, pausing to wait for the thin staircase to materialize out of the wall before he descended, giving Fehnra a quick glance before he shut the trapdoor.

_...-…_...-…_...-…_

Authors Note:

Hi! This is my first story… ever. I would never have written this story, except that it's been flying around in my head for around a year. I did put some chapters up a year ago, but didn't have the time to work on it further. But guess who has time now? ;) But please, share your thoughts, and the only way to do that is to PM or Review. Thanks!

-Marie