Minor Heaven (Tarja; iPod Shuffle Challenge 1)
He doesn't know when he started noticing her. He doesn't even know when she came to the Circle. He doesn't know why she'd want to become a Chantry sister, let alone come to Kinloch Hold in the middle of the cold and lonely lake. All he knows is that she's more beautiful than any Chantry sister he's seen; he didn't think they were allowed to be beautiful, that they set aside their beauty when they took their vows.
She catches him staring at her during chapel service and she blushes. He looks away quickly, blushing himself. Secretly he's satisfied, because he's never made a woman blush before.
He starts using his free time to go to prayer; the Templars all approve of this, because as a mage, Jowan is inherently sinful, an abomination waiting to happen. There, with his head bowed and his eyes (mostly) closed, he sits quietly and listens. She sounds like she's from Ferelden. The Revered Mother tsks disapprovingly. "No, Lily. You must practice the ritual again." Jowan closes his eyes before anyone can catch him glancing to the side to catch Lily's flame-red hair in the candlelight. The pink and maroon robes of the Chantry initiates normally wash out the other women, but when combined with Lily's red hair, it makes her skin look soft and creamy. He can't tell what color her eyes are; he hasn't gotten that close—yet—but even now he doesn't care.
She's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.
Lily sighs as the Revered Mother's footsteps fade away. There's another mage on the other side of the room praying. Jowan wants to tell Keili that no matter how hard she prays, the Maker's not going to suddenly make her not-a-mage. He suspects she wants to be made Tranquil, and for that, Jowan can't bring himself to even try to be nice to her. He sighs too. Yes, mages are dangerous, but they are what they are; none of them had any choice in the matter. Not like Lily, who had a choice to come here.
Lily kneels down beside him and bows her head, but he gets the feeling that she's not praying, either. "What did you do wrong?" he finally whispers, swallowing his fears. What does it matter if he fails? Success, failure… they mean nothing in here. He has nothing to lose.
"I didn't burn enough incense," she says.
"That's all?" Jowan asks. He dares a glance at her.
Her eyes are blue.
She is smiling. "Yes, that's all." Suddenly she giggles, an alien sound in this heavy, solemn place. Keili looks up, her perpetual frown pasted on her face. Lily looks away from her. "I'm not cut out for this," she says ruefully, tugging on a strand of dark red hair. She glances up at Jowan through her thick, dark lashes, and her blue eyes are twinkling.
"Sometimes I don't think I am either," he says, entranced. "Not that I can do anything about it. At least I've accepted that, unlike her," he says, waving his hand at Keili, who's back to her fervent prayer. "I'm Jowan," he says.
"Lily." She sticks her hand out for him to shake.
Jowan stares at her creamy, pale hand and his own palms sweat. A dozen or more questions dance through his mind. Can I touch her hand? Am I allowed? Among them. He glances about nervously to see if anyone is watching.
Lily giggles again. "It's not against the rules to be polite," she says with a smile that melts away any caution Jowan may have had.
"Thank the Maker for that." He takes her hand.
His blood pulses in his ears. He's coming undone, all at the touch of her soft skin. His breath catches in his throat and he's holding her hand too tightly but she doesn't move. She smiles. "It's getting later. You should go before they send the Templars in after you," she says.
Jowan drops her hand. "Right."
He leaves, having forgotten to pray. He doesn't care. He's unforgiven, and he's about to commit the greatest sin of all.
He is in love.