A million thanks to my Beta Reader, Jen!
The Chant of Light and all characters in this story, with the exception of Blythe and Allis, belong to Bioware.
x~~~~~~~~~~x
Anders strutted through the library, followed by two tranquil mages, who were helping him to move his belongings to the first floor of the Tower. He'd passed his harrowing the day before, and after a long sleep in his bunk to recuperate, looked forward to sleeping in a double bed, in a relatively private alcove.
Hooray for me! He chuckled to himself, winking at every female apprentice that passed him. No more fumbled trysts in corners. I can take them back to my boudoir now, or, failing that, at least I can crack one off without worrying that the person on the top bunk will hear. Excellent!
He and the tranquil mages, all heavily laden with robes, books, linens and bottles, began to ascend the steps to the first floor. Two Templars flanked the door, and courteously opened it for him. The Templars were nothing if not courteous, but didn't seem to possess any other redeeming human qualities, Anders noted to himself, as he nodded at the two inscrutable masks now passing behind him.
He thanked the two tranquils for their assistance and slapped their backs as they placed his belongings on his new double bed. They looked at him blankly and said "you are welcome" in unison before slowly turning and walking away.
He shuddered. Tranquil mages gave him the creeps. That could have been you, he thought to himself. After they caught me the last time I was sure they'd make me tranquil. Why didn't they? He mused, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, they can't do it now, can they? Fools." He muttered to himself, as he began making plans for escape attempt number 5.
"Nice to have your own space at last, isn't it, Anders?"
Anders turned around, startled. "Cullen!" He and the Templar shook hands.
The only Templar Anders considered worthy of his time, Cullen had only been in the Tower for a few months, having previously been assigned to the Chantry in Redcliffe. He wasn't as aloof or intimidating as the other Templars, and very rarely wore a helm, which made a lot of difference when talking to him. He was a typical Chantry boy, shy and a little awkward, also very handsome, which made him popular with the female apprentices and mages, who teased him mercilessly. Anders often joked with Cullen that he was his only true rival in the Tower for the women's affections, a sentiment that made the bashful Templar blush from head to toe.
Cullen released Anders' hand and spoke. "I wanted to congratulate you on your harrowing. You were onto that Mouse character right from the start. We could hear you talking to it. Most apprentices don't cotton on until the end, when he asks them to help him leave the Fade. Well done."
"Thanks, Cullen. It was easier than I thought it would be. I'm half expecting Irving to accost me and tell me that it was only a practice, and now I have to do my real harrowing, and will have to battle a Pride Demon or something!"
Cullen folded his arms and chuckled. "No, Anders. That was the Harrowing, I promise you."
"Well that's a relief! I know you Templars aren't supposed to lie. I feel much better now."
"We aren't supposed to do a lot of things," said Cullen thoughtfully. "But some still do…"
Anders stopped arranging his belongings and lowered his voice. "Yeah, I heard about that. Macintosh being caught with…Liselle, wasn't it?" Cullen nodded.
Anders had known Liselle. In fact, she had known most of the Apprentices on the first floor. It was probably only a matter of time before she was caught…but with a Templar? Not very smart.
"What will happen to them?" he asked.
Cullen sighed heavily. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but you'll find out tomorrow anyway. This is between you and me, alright?"
Anders nodded quickly. "I promise."
"They're going to make Liselle tranquil. They don't think her abilities are good enough for her to become a full mage anyway. As for Macintosh…apparently this is the second time he's been caught with an apprentice. The first time, they were found in an embrace. This time, though…he was literally caught with his pants down. It's Aeonar for him." He sighed again and shook his head.
Anders stared at his feet. "Shit."
They stood in silence for a few moments. Anders stepped outside his alcove and looked around. He moved close to Cullen and whispered. "Look, you should be careful yourself, Cullen. There's…talk. Whether it's true or not, I don't know."
A deep line appeared between Cullen's eyebrows. "Talk? What do you mean?"
"Concerning you and Blythe Amell."
"What?" Cullen backed away from Anders, a florid pink flush rising from his neck to his face. "W-What kind of talk?"
Anders sighed. "That your relationship goes beyond the normal Templar/Mage relationship. She also passed her harrowing yesterday, as you know. She'll be moving up here later on today. And you're assigned to this floor. You really need to be careful, Cullen."
Cullen had a slight stutter, which was exacerbated when he was nervous. "I-I-I had no i-idea…"
"Calm down. Like I said, it's just talk at the moment. You know what it's like in here. There's always some piece of gossip or rumour flying around, which is usually forgotten when the next one comes along. I'm just warning you, that's all. Maker knows, I wouldn't warn any of the other Templars."
Cullen's face was now nearly as red as his hair. "Th-thanks, Anders. I…I'll be careful."
"So…" Anders folded his arms, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Are the rumours true?"
"What? Of course not!" Cullen cried angrily, his voice catching in his throat.
Anders coolly regarded the red-faced Templar. "I thought Templars aren't supposed to tell lies?" he bluffed, seeing if he could catch him out.
"I…I'm not, Anders. By the Maker, nothing has ever happened between us," Cullen stuttered, his voice now quieter.
Anders relented. "Alright. For what it's worth, I believe you…I think. I just know you and Blythe are friendly, and she is very pretty. Don't give any of these gossiping bastards any ammunition. I like the thought of having you and her on the same floor as me, and I don't want them moving either of you."
"I'll do my best, Anders. I…um, I'd better go." He turned to leave.
"Alright. Do you fancy a game of cards when you knock off?"
Cullen turned back, his eyes narrowing. "Are you going to swindle me again?"
Anders shrugged. "Probably."
He snorted. "Alright. I'll see you in the library later on."
Anders watched Cullen as he walked back into the corridor. You're going to get eaten alive in here, my friend, he thought to himself.
x~~~~~~~~~~x
Anders was soundly trouncing Cullen at cards when she wafted in. Both men looked up at Blythe, who was followed by four tranquil mages. There was something about Blythe that set her apart from the other female apprentices – well, mages, now she'd passed her harrowing.
Some of the others tried too hard. They'd wear their hair in all kinds of configurations, they'd wear make-up, often too much; and some of the outfits they wore left very little to the imagination.
Blythe's beauty was effortless. Her hair was shoulder-length, thick, wavy and medium brown. She always wore it down. She seemed to be forever blowing strands of it off of her face. Her skin was clear and pale, and she never wore a scrap of make-up. Her eyes were a pretty cornflower blue and heavy-lidded, making her appear to be half-asleep or in a daydream. Her mouth was neither full nor thin, but turned up at the ends, giving the impression that she was always smiling a little, even when she was not; and nobody in the Tower, save Mr Wiggums, had ever seen a glimpse of her legs or cleavage. She dressed very elegantly for someone so young. She was tall and willowy, but had some flesh on her.
She wore a midnight blue and silver robe, which clung to her in all the right places, but was not too tight. As she passed the two men, Cullen stood up, followed by Anders, after the mage realised that was the polite thing to do when a female entered the room.
"Would you like any assistance, Miss?" asked Cullen, taking a couple of steps forward.
She flashed him a radiant smile. "Oh, no thank you, Ser Cullen. We can manage well enough."
"How come you get four people to help you?" asked Anders indignantly.
She shrugged. "I'm a girl. We have more clothes and useless junk, I suppose." With that, she and the tranquil ascended the steps to the first floor.
Anders cocked his head and stared at Cullen. "Have you been running, or something?"
"What do you mean?" asked Cullen nonchalantly, knowing full well what he meant.
"Your face is bright red, Ser Cullen!"
"Well, it is very warm in here."
"Warm? In the Tower? In the depths of winter? Hah!"
"It's the uniform. I'm not naked under this, you know." He pulled part of his skirt up, revealing chainmail leggings and greaves.
Anders chuckled. "So now I know what a Templar wears under their skirt. How very predictable. Is that to protect you or to keep the women away? I expect most of them would give up out of frustration after trying to get that lot off."
Cullen looked at him evenly and folded his arms. "So we're going to have one of these conversations again, are we?"
x~~~~~~~~~~x
Blythe was delighted with her new…well, what would you call it? It wasn't a room, exactly, as it had no door, but it was a private space with a double bed, her own bathtub, cupboards and an armchair. A large velvet curtain hung at the entrance.
This part of the wing was deserted, as it had been reserved for the dozen or so apprentices who would be taking their harrowings over the coming weeks. She pulled the curtain closed and lay on her huge bed and stretched.
Bliss! She thought. No more sleeping in a dorm, in a bunk bed, trying to get to sleep amidst the sounds of snoring and the ever-present clanking of Templar armour.
Thinking of Templars made her think of him. He was so unlike the others. Quiet, modest, bashful. He blushed and smiled gloriously whenever she spoke to him. His voice was soft but had an edge to it, like distant thunder. His hair was light auburn, cut severely short, and a thin goatee framed his generous lips. She often wondered if they had ever been kissed before.
But it was his eyes that did it for her. An unusual colour, dark amber, they seemed to stand out from the rest of his face. There was something wild and desperate within them, she fancied. They pierced her and she felt naked whenever he looked at her, which, sadly, he didn't do very often, as he usually looked at her shoes or his gauntlets when he spoke to her.
Or was it because he was forbidden to her? Because she wasn't supposed to have thoughts like this?
She heard the familiar clanking and swishing of a Templar walking by. Not knowing why, she climbed off her bed, pulled the curtain back, and peered out into the corridor. There he was, making his way to the Templar quarters on the fourth floor.
"Erm, Ser Cullen?" she asked quietly, part of her wanting him not to hear.
He turned around. "Yes? Oh…um, is everything alright, Miss?"
She looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you think you could help me with something?"
"O-Of course, Miss." He made his way towards her.
She retreated back to her 'area' and closed her eyes, shaking her head. Now what are you going to do?
"What do you think of my new quarters?" she asked brightly as he entered.
He stopped and looked around. Her bed and the surrounding walls were swathed in red and gold fabrics and hangings. A few lit candles were dotted around, throwing dancing shadows onto the walls. A faint smile crossed his lips. "You have a flair for the dramatic, it seems."
"Come in," she beckoned. Have a look at these carvings. I think you'd like them."
He took a deep breath and looked around. Nobody was about. I don't want to be rude. Just a quick look.
"Hmm, yes, very nice," he mumbled as he fixated on the wooden carvings sitting atop her dresser, taking care not to look anywhere else.
Blythe pulled the curtain closed and took a deep breath. Do you know what you're doing?
She addressed Cullen's back. "Do you have any idea how long I have waited to get onto this floor, Cullen?"
He turned around. His eyes darted to the closed curtain then back to the carving he still held in his hand. "Well," he gulped, his mouth suddenly dry, "I-I knew it would not be long before your harrowing came. And I never had any doubt you would, erm, succeed." He coughed.
"I don't mean my harrowing, Cullen," she said quietly, walking up to him and taking the carving from his hand.
"Then what do you mean?" he asked, his eyes wide, deep frown lines forming between his eyes.
Blythe placed the carving back onto the dresser. She walked up to Cullen and took his hands in her own. They were sweating. "It means we'll get to see more of each other. I know you like me, Cullen. I've seen the way you look at me."
He weakly tried to remove his hands from hers, but she held firmly onto them. His eyes darted around her quarters and he swallowed hard. "Miss…"
"My name's Blythe. I wish you would stop calling me Miss. It makes me feel old."
He looked at her shoes, his eyes blinking rapidly. He took a deep breath. "I…I…should be going."
Blythe gently released his hands. "Off you go then," she whispered.
He closed his eyes and exhaled, and stayed where he was.
She looked at him, then brought her hand up to his face and stroked his cheek, planting a kiss on the other one.
There's the smile! He hung his head down and grinned from ear to ear. She took his hands and held them against her cheeks. "Your turn."
"B-but…our hands are in the way."
"I know."
He looked at her mouth – half-open, and slightly upturned at the ends in a lilting half-smile. Something stirred, deep inside him, beneath his navel. Something primal. A need as basic and essential as air or water. A burning ache rose from his loins and radiated outwards. He shifted his weight, suddenly feeling unsteady.
Blythe tilted her head and drew him near. She could hear his breathing getting faster. "Kiss me," she implored.
I don't know how.
She felt his sharp intake of breath as she removed his hands from her face and positioned them around her waist. Her own hands rested on his hair and her fingernails softly raked against his scalp. He closed his eyes and deep lines knotted his brow. He felt his stomach muscles clench tightly.
"Kiss me…" she asked again, bringing her lips to within millimetres of his. His eyes met hers. The warmth he felt radiating from her, combined with the candlelight, was intoxicating.
His will no longer his own, he moved his head closer and their lips met. His were tightly closed.
She drew back slightly and giggled. She brought her hand up to his mouth and placed her finger on his lower lip, opening his mouth. She leaned into him, took his lip into her mouth and gently tugged. She felt his body stiffen and his hands ball into fists. She drew her tongue along his top lip, achingly slowly. His hands relaxed and tenuously skimmed her waist.
Following her lead, he hesitatingly brought his tongue out, not quite knowing what to do with it. She took it into her mouth and gently sucked, at the same time tracing her fingers down his neck. A harsh grunt caught in the back of his throat as a bolt of desire shot through his body. His arms wrapped around her back and he drew her against him, surrendering himself to her tender ministrations.
There they stayed, for a long moment, lost in each other. Cullen felt dizzy and had to put one hand against the wall to brace himself. He felt his legs weaken. His entire body tingled and throbbed. Nothing had ever prepared him for this.
She murmured softly and her head fell back. Instinctively, he brought one hand up to cup the back of her head, as his mouth went to her neck and he tenderly grazed down its length. Her deep, guttural moan was like music to him.
Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.
"I…I'm sorry. Forgive me," he stammered as he pulled away, his breathing fast and irregular.
"It's alright, Cullen. You haven't done anything wrong."
He shook his head. His eyes were wide. "I really have to go now," he said decisively. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Blythe said sadly as he hurried away without a backward glance.
x~~~~~~~~~~x
Cullen passed by the Chapel before he retired to his room. Glancing around nervously, he made sure nobody was about before he sat down on a bench near the altar.
He took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow and neck. His breathing had almost returned to normal now, but his heart still raced.
He knelt down, clasping his hands together and closed his eyes. An image of her came into his mind and refused to leave. He began to silently pray.
Oh Maker, hear my cry: Guide me through the blackest nights. Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked. Make me to rest in the warmest places.
My Creator, judge me whole: Find me well within your grace. Touch me with fire that I be cleansed. Tell me I have sung to Your approval.
For You are the fire at the heart of the world and comfort is only Yours to give.
x~~~~~~~~~~~x
Cullen wearily pulled his boots on. Putting on the many layers of Templar armour seemed even more of a chore today than usual. He was exhausted. He'd hardly slept a wink during the night. He stood up and at once felt weighed down by his armour and the troubling thoughts he could not shake off, no matter how many times he'd prayed.
He was on duty in the library this morning, then had a harrowing to attend after lunch. She would be in the library. She spent every morning in there before lessons began, talking to her apprentice friends. His stomach knotted. He concentrated on his breathing. In for four, out for seven. In for four, out for seven…
He began the long trudge down to the library, nodding at fellow Templars and mages as he walked. Finally he reached it and took a deep breath as he entered. As he walked over to the Templar on duty, he could see her in his peripheral vision. There were many people milling around the library, but he saw none except her.
"Morning, Ross. I'm here to relieve you."
Ross nodded in greeting. He was wearing a full Templar helm so it was impossible to read his expression. "Glad to see you. I'm ready for my bed. Listen, keep an eye on that one," he said quietly, nodding over at Jowan. "He's been pestering Amell about something. He's acting shifty, even for him. He's up to something, I tell you."
"Alright," said Cullen, looking in their general direction, but not directly at them.
"Off to bed I go then," chirped Ross. "Maker, Cullen. You look pale. Rough night?"
"You could say that," he smiled weakly.
Ser Ross departed. Cullen positioned himself near the doorway and observed the activity in the library. Blythe and Jowan were deep in conversation. She had her back to Cullen, and hadn't noticed him enter.
She was wearing a deep burgundy gown, matching the colour of Cullen's skirt. Jowan paced up and down, causing Blythe to turn around, meeting Cullen's eyes for a second. His stomach flipped over and he suddenly felt very hot. Why didn't I wear my helm?
Blythe and Jowan's conversation seemed to be becoming heated. Cullen watched them intently, trying to read their lips, with no success. Anger flashed across Blythe's face. She grabbed Jowan's arm and led him into a corner then put her hands on her hips, again with her back to Cullen. Jowan's face was a mask of misery and contrition.
Cullen didn't understand how the two of them had become friends. Blythe was popular, outgoing, and made friends easily, whereas Jowan kept to himself, never smiled, and whined incessantly about his non-existent problems and how hard done by he was. He was forever distracting the other apprentices from their studies.
Well, he won't be a problem for much longer, Cullen mused. Irving intended to make Jowan tranquil.
Blythe suddenly scooped her books up in her arms and sped towards the far exit of the library. Jowan stood rooted to the spot. Cullen approached him, feeling a flash of anger towards this snake-like apprentice.
"What was that all about, Jowan?"
Jowan almost jumped out of his skin. He was sweating. "Oh-oh, nothing, Ser Cullen. Just a misunderstanding, that's all."
Cullen's face was hard and accusing. "It didn't look like nothing to me. And what are you so nervous about?"
"Nervous? Me? No! I'm just…hot, that's all."
Hot? Thought Cullen. I've tried that one myself. "Get back to what you were doing, Jowan. I don't want any of your nonsense today. Is that understood?"
"Y-yes, Ser." Jowan scurried away.
Cullen looked towards the far exit of the library. He wanted to go after her and get to the bottom of this, but was unable to leave his post for the next four hours. What had he said to her? And why are you so concerned, anyway? People are always quarrelling in here.
x~~~~~~~~~~~x
After a very boring couple of hours in the library, an incensed- looking Anders came charging in and headed straight for Cullen.
"There you are! I've been looking for you!" His eyes were blazing. He put his hands on his hips.
Cullen panicked for a moment, wondering if Blythe had told him about last night.
"Have you seen that worm Jowan anywhere? He's really upset Blythe. She won't tell me what it's about. But he'll tell me, once I get my hands on him!"
She's really upset? Cullen thought, not liking how that made him feel. "They were in here earlier, Anders. They seemed to be arguing. Then she walked out. I asked him what it was about, but he skirted the issue."
"Well, I can't find him anywhere," said Anders, looking around. "Shame there aren't any rocks in here. I'd be sure to find him underneath one of them."
Cullen nodded and laughed a little. "Maker, it's boring in here today, Anders. If you find him, bring him back here, would you? I could do with some entertainment."
"I certainly will," laughed Anders. "Fear not, Ser Knight. You have a nice, juicy harrowing this afternoon, don't you? I bet they're always good for a laugh."
Cullen's face hardened and he shook his head. "Quite the opposite, Anders. I dread every single one of them. I know some of the other Templars get excited about them, but not me. I'm always relieved once they're over."
Anders looked at him sympathetically. "Have you ever had to…?"
"No," Cullen stated firmly. "And I hope I never have to, either."
x~~~~~~~~~~~x
The time of the harrowing had finally arrived. Cullen felt so weary he had half a mind to duck out, but the thought of Gregoir's furious face and the inevitable tongue-lashing that would follow made him reconsider. He intended to stop off at his quarters on the way to the harrowing chamber to take some lyrium.
At the stairs to the third floor he made way for two men descending the steps. One of them was a regular visitor to the tower and a friend of Irving's. Duncan. Something to do with the Grey Wardens. Accompanying him was an elven mage, Allis Surana, his latest recruit for the Wardens. The two men were deep in conversation. Cullen greeted them as they passed, and they in turn politely acknowledged him.
Cullen continued on along the third floor. He was about to pass Senior Enchanter Irving's office, when Blythe exited from there hurriedly, nearly colliding with him.
"Oh! I'm sorry, Cullen. I wasn't looking where I was going."
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, though it was obvious she wasn't.
Blythe was breathing heavily and her eyes darted around, looking everywhere but at him.
"I, um…I can't talk now. You must be busy, anyway. I won't keep you." She walked away.
He caught up to her. "What's wrong?" he implored, a tight knot forming in his stomach. "Is this something to do with what Jowan said to you earlier?"
"Oh. You saw that, did you?" she looked like she was going to cry. Cullen felt panic rise in his chest.
"It was something stupid. You know what Jowan's like!" she laughed, but her eyes were wild and her breathing erratic. "Are…you alright, Cullen?"
"Me?" he asked in surprise. "Why do you ask?"
"Well…" she whispered. "I was worried that…last night. You seemed upset when you left. I've been worried about it all day. Look, I know what happened was…inappropriate. But you didn't break any of your vows, Cullen. Remember that." She looked into his eyes. "And I certainly don't regret what happened, even if you do."
Cullen took a deep breath. He didn't know what to say to her. One half of him was ashamed and contrite. The other half of him longed for her to kiss him again, to touch him and whisper to him, right here where they stood.
"I…um…" he trailed off. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I didn't. At the time, I was…um…well, it's alright. Really."
She met his gaze. Her eyes were full of regret and longing. "Cullen…if I were to do something really stupid, would you still…" she looked down. "I have to go, Cullen." Her voice started to break. "I hope the harrowing goes well."
He watched her walk away, wondering what she meant by really stupid. Whatever it was, it was eating away at her. His tiredness was replaced by sudden fury directed towards Jowan. I wonder if Anders has found him yet. After the harrowing, I'll find Anders and we'll look for him together. I want to know what's going on. And what was she doing in Irving's office?
He had no more time to ponder this. They would be ready in the harrowing chamber soon. He quickened his pace and headed upstairs to his quarters, needing his lyrium more than ever.
x~~~~~~~~~~~x
The harrowing over, Cullen returned to his quarters. He firmly closed and locked the door and fumbled with the straps of his breastplate. He felt like it was crushing him. He finally undid them and hoisted the heavy plate above his head, placing it on the ground. He rotated his head and massaged the back of his neck, trying to remove the painful knots.
He sat on his bed and put his head in his hands. The harrowing had been a disaster. The apprentice was an enthusiastic, but not terribly bright, young lad named Scott. Cullen had felt he wasn't yet ready for his harrowing, but who was he to question Gregoir and Irving?
A kind and helpful soul, Scott had fallen hook, line and sinker for the demon's entreaty to release him from the Fade, and it subsequently possessed him with terrifying efficiency. Cullen was the Templar assigned to strike the killing blow in this eventuality and he didn't hesitate, driven by the desire to rid poor Scott of this evil.
Gregoir had congratulated him for his quick reaction and shook his hand. Cullen didn't even feel Gregoir's hand grasp his. The other Templars shook his hand as well, and patted him on the back.
Am I supposed to feel proud of myself? Cullen meshed his fingers together to stop his hands from shaking. Is this what my life is going to be like now?
His eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill onto his cheeks. He swallowed hard and stood up, retrieving a phial of lyrium from one of his drawers. He gulped it down hard, knowing he'd already had too much today, but no longer caring as he felt it do its work. He felt warmth and strength wash over his body.
Forgetting that he'd removed his heavy breastplate, and was only wearing his chainmail and skirt, he left his quarters to find Anders.
Cullen would probably find him in the library. As he walked along the first floor corridor, he passed the wing where Blythe's quarters were. Her curtain was pulled across. He hesitated, not knowing what to do. Then he fancied he heard a muted sob.
Is she crying?
He took a step nearer. There was no doubt about it. His concern for her outweighed any hesitancy on his part. He stood nearer the curtain. "Blythe?" he asked softly.
No response. He stood for a moment, not sure if she'd heard him.
"Who's there?" she asked, her voice strained with a defeated tone.
"It is I, Cullen. I want to talk to you."
After a moment, the curtain was pulled across. She turned away from him. He closed the curtain. A pregnant silence hung between them.
He held her arm and positioned himself in front of her. She looked at the floor.
"Blythe? Whatever's the matter?"
She shook her head. "I…I heard about the harrowing, Cullen. I'm so sorry. I know what kind of a man you are. It must have hit you hard."
He swallowed hard as he tried to master his own grief. He brought his hand up to stroke her hair then hesitated. Seeing this, she took his hand and placed it against her cheek, leaning into it. She closed her eyes.
"I'm asking what's upset you, Blythe. What is going on between you and Jowan?"
"I…I can't tell you. I wish I could, but…"
"Look," said Cullen firmly. "Either you tell me, or Anders and I are going to hunt him down and make him tell us."
She laughed unexpectedly. She looked up at him, her eyes red. "Please don't do that. It'll only make things worse. I'm not deliberately trying to keep this from you. But I have no choice. Irving…" she stopped before she said too much.
"Irving? What does he have to do with this?"
"Cullen…please, just hold me."
She wrapped her arms around his waist and lay her head on his shoulder. She could get closer to him without his heavy armour getting in the way. You'll probably despise me when you find out what I'm about to do. Just hold me so I can remember this moment.
Cullen's arms went around her and he cradled the back of her head in his hand. He looked down and whispered to her. "I wish you would tell me. Maybe I could help you?"
She brought her head up and placed her hands on his face. "You're such a good man, Cullen. That's why I…why I like you."
He looked into her eyes and saw that same look of regret he'd seen earlier. His stomach knotted. "Blythe…"
He removed his gauntlets and dropped them to the floor. His bare hands skimmed her cheeks, moving down to her neck. She closed her eyes and they were irresistibly drawn together, their lips gently meeting. Cullen removed his hands from her face and wrapped his arms around her neck, drawing himself deeper in. I don't regret this. How can this be wrong?
x~~~~~~~~~~x
Cullen had left Blythe when he had to return to duty for a few hours before knocking off for the evening. They'd sat on her bed and talked, kissed and stroked each other, but had ventured no further than that. He came away feeling like he was finally getting to know her, as a person, and not as the fantasy figure she'd been to him since his arrival at the Tower.
He was determined to find out what had upset her so much. He went looking for Anders and Jowan, before he started duty, but there was no sign of either of them. He was supposed to report to Gregoir if Anders couldn't be found, but something stopped him. Did he find Jowan? I hope he hasn't done anything stupid.
He resumed his duty pacing the corridors of the first floor. This was the worst part of Templar duty, next to harrowings. The long, tedious hours spent standing still, or walking up and down the same corridor, with nothing ever happening. A few mages stopped and chatted, but the three hours drew out tortuously slowly.
The end of his shift finally approached when he heard a commotion coming from downstairs. The door at the far end of the corridor flew open.
"Cullen! Get down here! We need help!"
He started to run, as much as he could run weighed down by his heavy armour. He drew his sword and descended the steps. Another Templar whom he couldn't identify due to his helm was also running, and turned and beckoned frantically to him.
Please don't tell me Anders has absconded again. They'll put him in solitary this time.
The sight that greeted Cullen as he reached the main foyer was bizarre and horrifying. Several Templars lay groaning on the floor, drenched in what looked like blood. The floor was slick with it. A Chantry Initiate, Lily, stood weeping uncontrollably in a corner. And…what's she doing here? Blythe stood away from the Templars, wringing her hands. Her face was colourless and frozen in terror. Neither Lily nor Blythe had anyblood on them.
"Get after him!" One of the blood-soaked Templars shouted from the floor. Only the commanding but nasal voice identified him as Knight-Commander Gregoir.
"Who?" asked Cullen, snapping out of his trance.
"Jowan, you fools! Get after him!"
Jowan! Cullen and the unidentified Templar ran towards the main door. Blythe caught his eye as he passed. "I didn't know he was a blood mage, Cullen! I swear it!" she entreated.
Enraged, Cullen barged through the door to the main entrance hall. Four more Templars lay on the floor, struggling to get up. The main door to the Circle Tower was wide open.
He and the other Templar scoured the grounds, joined shortly by several bloody Templars, now recovered from the attack. There was no sign of Jowan. Giving up, they went back inside, fearing Gregoir's wrath at their failure.
As Cullen entered the foyer, Lily, flanked by two Templars, was being led away. Gregoir, Irving and Blythe were having a heated discussion. Duncan, Irving's friend from the Grey Wardens, was there too, as was Allis Surana. Cullen stood just close enough to hear them talking, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Your antics have made a mockery of this Circle! What are we to do with you?" Gregoir bellowed at Blythe.
"Er…nothing? I was just doing as I was instructed!" she bit back angrily. She hated Gregoir. "Tell him, Senior Enchanter!"
Irving folded his arms and shook his head wearily.
Gregoir rounded on her. "So, you compound your folly with lies?"
"What?" cried Blythe, pointing at Irving. "He told me to go with Jowan to the repository!"
"I can vouch for her, Knight-Commander," said Cullen, stepping forward. "I saw her leaving Irving's office earlier today. She was distressed, and when I asked her what was wrong, she told me she was not allowed to say anything."
Cullen and Blythe looked at one another, perhaps for a moment too long. Irving and Gregoir exchanged glances. They know! Thought Cullen.
Gregoir looked at Cullen with barely disguised disgust. "So, you are calling Senior Enchanter Irving a liar, as well? And what business is this of yours? Why do you care what happens to this mage?"
Cullen folded his arms. "I did not accuse Irving of lying. How could he lie? His silence is deafening."
Gregoir was not used to his Templars standing up to him, and knowing Cullen's feelings for Blythe, he knew that threatening him would get him nowhere. "Get back up to your floor, Cullen," he barked. "We need to decide what is to be done with this one."
Duncan, sensing that things were about to go ill, intervened. "If I may, Knight-Commander? I'm not only looking for mages to join the King's army, I'm also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I would like her to join the Warden ranks."
I bet you spoke highly of her, thought Cullen. This was the plan all along wasn't it? To break us up!
"Absolutely not!" shrieked Gregoir. "This mage has made a mockery of the Circle, and now she is to be rewarded by joining the Grey Wardens? Never! This one will be taken to Aeonar, along with Lily."
"What! Have you lost your mind?" shouted Cullen angrily, turning to face Gregoir.
"I told you to get back onto your floor, Ser Cullen! At once!"
Duncan interrupted. "I take this mage under my wing, and bear all responsibility for her actions." He turned and addressed Gregoir firmly. "I will conscript her if necessary."
"Wait!" cried Blythe, looking at Cullen and panicking. "Don't I get a say in this? I don't want to leave the Tower! This is my home! I have friends here! Please, don't make me leave!"
Gregoir folded his arms and addressed Blythe, whilst glaring across at Duncan. "No, you don't have to become a Grey Warden! You can go to Aeonar instead! Make your choice, mage," he spat.
Duncan placed his hand on Blythe's shoulder. "Come," he spoke softly. "Your new life awaits."
Blythe followed Duncan and Allis in a daze, only pausing to look back at Cullen, who stood red-faced and open-mouthed as he watched her walk out of his life forever.
As they exited the Tower, Gregoir's voice reverberated throughout the ground floor. "This is your last chance! Get back up to your floor!"