Chapter One – Amaryllis

So do I remind you of someone you never met?

A lonely silhouette.

And do I remind you of somewhere you want to be?

So far out of reach.

I wish you would open up for me

'Cause I want to know you.

4:18 Cloudreach; 9:28 Dragon

The final light of day spread across the waters of Lake Calenhad, splashing the clouds above in a beautiful array of mauve and lavender. There was a slight breeze, and the scent of an distant storm blew through the open window of the arboretum. Curled up in the alcove, Solona Amell closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She tried her best to end each day of study in the sunlit room, one of the few places that offered both seclusion and a view of something other than the stone walls of the Circle Tower. The bars would ensure that she wouldn't fall, or jump as so many others had done in the centuries past, and she savored the final moments of daylight.

The yard below was silent, the men having abandoned their training as the sun neared the horizon. No Templar at Kinloch Hold could ever brag of a sagging middle, which was more than could be said for some of the mages. Solona secretly wished that First Enchanter Irving would mandate exercise routines for her colleagues, if for no other reason than their own health. She had even voiced her concern to Wynne following one instance where a portly mage collapsed on the stairs, but her mentor had apparently not followed through on the suggestion.

The rustle of paper snapped Solona out of her thoughts as the last bit of light disappeared from the sky. She had forgotten the scroll in her lap, lost in thought as she had been. The bells would be ringing soon to announce the evening meal, and reluctantly Solona eased out of her seat and shut the glass. Knowing that she would most likely return after supper, she left her books on the table near the fireplace and slipped out the door. The silent but ever-present Templar nodded at her, acknowledging that she was the last to leave the room.

Most of her colleagues never bothered going to the arboretum unless it was necessary. It was housed on the same level of the tower as the Templar barracks, and being surrounded by their keepers was not something mages actively sought. Solona wasn't like most mages, though. She kept to herself, buried in her studies and her work. Her mentor, Enchanter Wynne, had trusted her alone with the plants and in the still-room for the past three years, and even the Templars had begun to go to her for treating their various ailments.

The first bell rang just as she was halfway down her first set of stairs. Thankful that the dining hall was only one floor below, Solona was ahead of the pack of fellow apprentices, but the sounds of their feet echoed through the stone stairwell from the lower levels. Small feet. The littlest mages never wasted a second of mealtime since it meant precious few moments of free time to playonce they had eaten. She mostly ignored the few youngsters that had managed to rush past her as they all approached the third level, but as she pushed open the door to the dining room, a familiar hand slipped into her own.

"Good evening, Faris," she said softly, giving him one of her rare smiles.

"Good evening, Apprentice Solona," replied the elven boy, returning her expression. "Did Enchanter Wynne tell you that you're to be my mentor once you pass your Harrowing?"

"She did," confirmed Solona, watching his expression brighten. Faris had already spent the past three moon-turns under her tutelage in the healing arts, but she hadn't been able to formally accept him as an apprentice since she was, technically, still one herself. The boy had been with the Circle since he was a mere four years old, packed up and carted away from Denerim with two other young mages and a half-dozen Templars fresh out of training. They had bonded almost as soon as he arrived, with her only rival for his affection being one of the young men he had traveled with. Her studies had never put her in direct contact with Ser Cullen, but Solona had learned quite a bit about the Templar through Faris.

"Are you scared?" he asked, breaking her unconscious habit of looking for the man whenever she knew he would be around.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," she admitted, leading him to the sideboard where an array of trenchers and stew had been placed.

"You'll do fine," a voice behind them piped up. Turning, Solona saw a lopsided grin smeared across the chiseled features of her friend Anders. "You've been ready for the Harrowing for nearly two years now. I honestly don't know why the First Enchanter has waited so long."

"Chantry law states that mages can't go through with the Harrowing ritual until after their..."

"Seventeenth birthing day. Yes, I'm familiar with it. A stupid rule as far as I'm concerned."

"Everything is a stupid rule as far as you're concerned," Solona countered, steering Faris to a seat with a bowl in hand, away from her conversation with Anders. She honestly didn't know how they had become friends in the first place. The handsome blonde Enchanter was four years her elder, charismatic, had a weakness for wine and women, and was a troublemaker to the Nth degree. Solona was the epitome of what a Circle Mage should be. Mostly.

"You just don't know what life is like outside the Tower," he countered, just as he did every time his various antics were brought up.

"I don't want to know. Maker, Anders, do you remember how many bouts of influenza I tended this past winter? How many broken bones, burns and concussions I've treated? Food poisoning, lyrium addiction, birth control? The Circle infirmary keeps me busy enough, and now I'm facing my final test to become a fully-trained Enchanter and take on my first apprentice." She had kept her voice low to avoid drawing attention to their conversation, and Anders had walked with her to a relatively isolated table, but she could still feel eyes on them as they talked.

"For which I am insanely envious of, you know," he admitted as they sat together. "They didn't give me an apprentice, and I passed my Harrowing two years ago."

"You're lucky to not have been made Tranquil."

"True enough," sighed Anders as he shoveled a bite of stew between his lips. "At least here I have you to keep me in check."

"For the most part."

"Also true."

"And you don't have to eat your own cooking."

Solona bit back a smile as he nearly choked with laughter, but at least it had cut the tension. She hated arguing Circle politics with Anders. For as long as she had known him, he tested the limits of the rules, and had even managed to escape four times already. She hadn't been joking about the Tranquil comment. Several of their acquaintances had been subject to the rite for lesser infractions, but for some reason Anders had never received anything harsher than solitary confinement for a few weeks.

As baffling as their friendship was to everyone, she was glad for it. True companions were few and far between in the Tower, and Solona could always count on him for a pick-me-up right before she realized that she even needed one. He was the closest thing to a brother she was likely to have, and if he ever managed to sever his ties with the Circle of Magi she would miss Anders terribly.

"You'll do fine, Sol," he said quietly, reaching across the table and placing a hand over hers. When she managed a weak smile in reply, Anders gave it a quick squeeze, and she didn't know if he was talking about the Harrowing or her current chain of thought. "If you don't, they'll probably make me take on your Apprentice and then I'll be stuck here."

She stole a glance behind her, resting her gaze on Faris. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of familiar brass hair across the room and quickly turned back towards Anders. She laughed aloud at the mental picture he painted, carrying on about being on the run with an elven apprentice trailing behind him, and for a moment Solona tried to forget her worries. Would that the Harrowing be the greatest of them.

.oOo.

Cullen was exhausted. He had drawn morning duty in the library, followed by an entire afternoon consumed in the training yard. True, he had only intended on the usual daily workout, but Graegoir's news has spurred him to continue long after. Finally, once his frustrations had been sated and his body was weary, Cullen had retreated back indoors to bathe before the dinner bell. It was all he could do just to lift the spoon to his mouth, let alone pay attention to his surroundings.

"How long do you think they've been at it?" said a Templar to his left, nudging him in the shoulder. Stew splashed onto the table, but Cullen wasn't up to the task of cleaning it just yet.

"Who's been at what?" he asked, hoping to not seem rude by ignoring the conversation completely as he wanted. His companion waved casually in the direction of a table on the other side of the room and Cullen's stomach lurched. No matter how many times Faris had told him that his tutor and Anders were just friends, he still had a strange aversion to seeing them together.

"They've been joined at the hip since before either of us came to the Tower," Cullen replied, hoping to convince himself as much as anyone else listening in.

"Cullen's right," remarked an older man across from him. "I was here when they brought Anders in. She was still in pigtails then and he was the first Healing Apprentice close to her own age. They act more like kin than lovers. There's affection there, sure, but I've never seen him look at her the way he does the other lovelies."

"Not sure why," replied Kayal, the first speaker. "She's certainly a looker."

Cullen couldn't deny that fact. Tall and willowy, with just the right amount of curve, she had drawn the eye of most males in the tower, himself included. In fact, this wasn't the first conversation he'd been coaxed into concerning the quiet apprentice with the silver-blonde hair. Closing his eyes to drown out the others, Cullen reflected on what the Knight-Commander had told him earlier that afternoon.

When he opened them, all he saw was Solona. Laughing at some joke Anders had told, no doubt, from the way her head was thrown back and the smirk of triumph on the older mage's face. Her silken tresses swayed slightly with the movement, giving him a glimpse of the curve of her neck and shoulders, tempting him with desires he had tried so hard to suppress. She was a woman grown now, not the awkwardly beautiful adolescent she had been when he first arrived at the Tower.

"Her Harrowing is tomorrow," he said softly, turning his attention back to his meal, even though he had completely lost his appetite.

"Don't worry, son," said the elder Templar, a hint of sympathy in his voice. "She's a strong one. That fool friend of hers made it out of the Harrowing chamber intact, and she's ten times the mage he'll ever be."

"If he'd ever manage to get hurt or sick, he'd know that," snorted someone behind him. Cullen grinned at the Knight-Commander as he turned and the entire table started to stand at attention. Graegoir waved them back down and continued. "The First Enchanter and I have every confidence in Apprentice Solona's ability to pass her ordeal."

"She'd better," grumbled Kayal. "One of the few mages in this place that's worth a damn. Rest of 'em are only fit for Tranquility if you ask me."

"Just because the Maker's purpose for them isn't always clear, doesn't mean He doesn't have one," Graegoir chided, and the young Templar shrank in his seat. "Rest well, men. Ser Cullen, I shall see you on the morrow."

Cullen watched as the Knight-Commander left the dining hall, then gathered up his plate and stood. He nodded a farewell to his companions, but not before Kayal managed to get one last question in.

"You're in the Chamber tomorrow, aren't you?" Cullen dipped his head in the affirmative before turning and walking away from the table. "Lucky bastard," he heard, faintly, from one of the others. No, he thought, heading towards the stairs to seek out his bed for what he hoped to give him a decent night's rest. Luck had nothing to with it.

.oOo.

As expected, the arboretum was dark and silent when Solona arrived following the evening meal. Normally she would have spent the evening in the dormitory, but with the buzz about her pending Harrowing, there was no way to guarantee any peace until she waited for the majority of the other apprentices to go to bed. Braziers burned low in the corners of the room, enchanted to keep a constant temperature for some of the rare plants the mages needed for their various potions. With the barest touch of magic, Solona lit a lantern near her favorite window and moved forward to her perch in the sill.

She hadn't gotten through more than ten pages in one of her books before the shuffle of feet in the doorway caught her attention. The enormous silhouette of a Templar filled the space, and she nearly overlooked the smaller one standing next to it. As the two cleared the small bit of darkness between the entryway and the pool of light from her lantern, Solona noticed that Cullen had brought Faris to see her. Putting down the book, she extended an arm and motioned for the boy to join her in the window, sparing a curious glance at his escort.

"The Senior Enchanter said I could come see you," Faris said matter-of-factly, crawling into her lap and leaning with his back against her chest. "But it's past curfew so she asked Ser Cullen to bring me."

"Well that was kind of them both to accommodate you," she replied, her words for the boy but her gaze on the Templar. He was tired, that much was clear, and Solona was certain that if anyone but Faris had made the request, Cullen would already be fast asleep in his bunk. At his nod of acknowledgment, she gave her attention to the child and ran a hand over his still-damp hair. "Did you remember your manners?"

"Yes, ma'am. I thanked them both already." They sat in silence for a few minutes, with Solona looking out across the water while she stroked her fingers through his dark hair to dry it. She was keenly aware of Cullen watching them, certain that he had been ordered to stay until Faris was sent to bed. Even without his armor, he cut an imposing figure standing at attention, though she knew this wasn't an official assignment.

"You're welcome to sit down, Ser Cullen," she suggested, mustering up her courage and nodding towards a small couch near one of the heaters. He seemed to startle the tiniest bit when she addressed him directly, almost as if he had expected his presence to be ignored. But she was pleased to see that he took her suggestion to heart, and moved towards the seat. Cullen sat straight on the couch, feet on the floor and hands in his lap. It may not have been the most comfortable position in Solona's opinion, but at least he wasn't standing on the edge of the shadows any longer, and the ghost of a smile tugged at her lips before turning her attention to the child in her arms.

"What are those flowers down there?" he asked, pointing out the window to the water's edge. In the moonlight, there was a good view of the training yard and the small expanse of grounds beyond it, and Solona easily saw what Faris was talking about. "I can see them from the dormitory, but I've never seen them grown in here."

"That's because they won't grow in arboretums or hot houses," she replied. "The Tevinter name for it is 'Amaryllis' but here we call them Witch's Tears."

"Why are they called that?"

"I don't know the whole story, but have you seen the red streaks in the middle of the white petals?" Faris squinted, concentrating on the flowers, and Solona envied his keen elven eyesight. When he nodded, she continued. "When the flower first blooms, it's completely white. As it matures, it gets the red stripes, almost as if it's crying. There are a few varieties where it's blue or pink, but the red is most common."

"Red like blood?"

"Yes, red like blood. Because blood can corrupt the pure."

"And what about the other colors?"

"Well, the pink varieties come from someone who had too much time on their hands a long time ago and they tried to breed out the red. Pink was the best they could do."

"And the blue?"

"Healer's Touch," said Cullen softly, startling the two mages into remembering that he was there. When they looked at him, he shrugged and leaned forward in his seat to peer out the nearest window. "I had a similar conversation with someone when I was Faris' age."

"I was a little younger when I asked Wynne, but I'm a girl, so I guess my interest in flowers at the age of five is justified," Solona replied, giving him a genuine smile. Shyly, Cullen returned it before returning his attention out the window and fidgeting with his hands. It was apparent that he wouldn't be leaving until they did, and the hour was starting to get late for all of them. Shifting from her seat in the window, she helped Faris down and stretched out her legs. "Will you be returning us to the dormitory, Ser Cullen?"

"It would be my pleasure, Apprentice Solona," he said as he stood, scooping a sleepy Faris into his arms. Her stomach flipped at the sight of the handsome, muscular young man carrying the petite elven child, and Solona masked it behind the gesture of blowing out the lantern. In a different world, she could allow herself certain fantasies, but Kinloch Hold was not the place for them.

Mages and Templars just did not happen.

A/N : All rights for the Dragon Age series belong to Bioware. Opening lyric credit: "Amaryllis" by Shinedown.

This is the first chapter of what will become "The Amell Chronicles: Volume I." At this time (1-25-2013), there are 29 chapters outlined and five completed, but postings will be every 3-4 weeks due to time constraints in real life. "Volume II" is in the planning stages. "Volume III" depends on if I can work something from "Dragon Age III: Inquisition" into this particular storyline once it's released this fall. For the most part, this will follow the regs for a "T" rating, but there will be a handful of chapters to warrant the "M" rating, and I feel it's easier to start with this rating than change it later. This is, by far, my most adventurous undertaking in the realm of fanfiction, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. :)