Dragon Age Origins: ©BioWare
Heart and Blood
Chapter Two: Her Templar
It was so hard to open her eyes, but when she did she realized she'd fallen asleep. Rae sat up as quickly and quietly as she could. Instead of whispering she heard the sound of snoring and even breathing. Some were warbling in their sleep. She got up, feeling the cold from the ground rush up her legs and give her a chill. Silently, she tip-toed across the room to Jowan's bed. Just as she thought—he was already gone. Damnit! Alright think… she crept to the door of the room and took a small glance outside, swiftly pulling herself back in. There were two templars guarding the hall just outside. So how did Jowan manage to escape? She wasn't going to give up, not when her curiosity was so piqued. Back to his bed she went to search for some kind of clue. If he was clever, he wouldn't leave any hint as to his actions, but she knew him better. Sure enough, wedged beneath his mattress was a piece of parchment, hastily scrawled upon. It was… a spell. As she further inspected his bed she found a runic symbol in black ink on the underside of his mattress. This was interesting. Rae sat down on the bed then silently mouthed the words on the parchment. In an instant she was no longer in the room. She was somewhere else in the tower entirely.
A teleportation spell? Not just any spell… it had to have been one that couldn't be detected. That was crafty, especially for Jowan. Her intrigue was swiftly replaced with a nauseating fear. Why would he need such a powerful spell to maneuver through the tower unnoticed? No, first thing's first… where was she? Wherever she was, it looked to be abandoned. A sealed off portion of the tower that Jowan had discovered at some point? All these secrets…
"Oh Jowan… why…" she whispered sadly as she traversed the old, dusty space. Her feet slowly became stained with dirt as she made her way across the floor. She grimaced in dissatisfaction, but pressed on. She would just wash her feet when she got back to the apprentice's quarters—if she could get back. Swiftly she turned and made haste to where she appeared. There indeed was a runic symbol. So it was a two way spell. Excellent. She would just have to make sure she got back before Jowan did—if she didn't find him. Folding the parchment she placed it down the front of her dress and pressed forward.
She passed rows and rows of shelves filled with tomes ruined by age. They crumbled as her fingers touched them, so she left them alone. What a fascinating place… where in the tower was this exactly? Door… door… where was there a door? She continued to maneuver through the ancient bookshelves, keeping track of the things she passed so as to not get lost on the way back. Finally she emerged from the maze and found a door. Hopefully it was the right one. Cautiously she grabbed the handle, and pressed her ear to the wood to listen. Nothing. Taking in a deep breath she opened the door a crack and peered out. It led into another darkened place just as weakly lit as the decrepit library.
It was a corridor she emerged into and it didn't seem to branch off anywhere as she stepped lively along, hugging herself from the cold. She should've at least thrown on a cloak of some sort—maybe put on her shoes. She wasn't expecting to end up, well, wherever it was she ended up. At the end of the hall there was another door. She groaned and pressed flush against the warped wood, listening carefully. When she was satisfied that there was nothing on the other side she slowly opened it. The light that greeted her was welcoming and signaled her reentry into a small niche in the main section of the tower. Now which floor was she on…?
Voices reached her ears and she quickly shut the door then sprinted across the hall and under the archway on the other side. The stockroom—she was on the second floor. To her horror there were three templars standing just across the way at the other end of the room. She halted where she was and fled into the shadows, curling up in the darkness as tightly as she could, making as little sound as possible. The patrolling templars went on past the archway, while the three on the other end of the room eventually parted ways. Where was Jowan?
When it was clear she stood, taking in deep steady breaths to try and calm her worked nerves. Crossing the storeroom she peered out the other side. The hall was clear—for now. She stepped out and began silently stalking down the corridor, listening intently for the sound of clanking armor. She passed the tower Chantry, rolling her eyes as she caught a glimpse of the statue of Andraste. Then she froze. Someone was there. She stepped back and stood in the entrance for a time, studying the back of the person on their knees in front of the statue. It was a man's voice, softly praying. She brought her hands up to her mouth in surprise. Cullen? He was out of his armor and in everyday dress, praying fervently, but his voice was too hushed.
She almost didn't hear the patrol coming around. Rae stepped inside the room and pressed her back flat against the wall beside the archway, hoping Cullen didn't turn around. Friendship or not, he would have to report her out of bed—but aside from that, she didn't want him to believe that she was out doing something dire; and there was no way she was going to tell him she was after Jowan. When the patrol passed she made to leave; then halted. Just what was Cullen praying so eagerly about? As quietly as she could, she stepped forward, her bare feet making no sound on the stone floor. His words became clearer when she neared him. Rae crouched behind a pew, listening. His prayer was interwoven with the Chant of Light.
"… Let this burden pass from me please…" Rae felt her blood begin to prickle in anxiousness. "Let it not have to be my blade…" He was praying—about her. "Andraste forgive my weakness… I do not have the heart to slay her if the time ever came—I fear for what I would do…" Rae slowly sat down altogether. What did that mean? He didn't have the strength to carry out his duty? What was duty to him? "I find myself confused—but I find as well that I am not troubled by it…" Her heart leapt madly in her chest. She wanted to rush out to him, to kneel beside him on the floor and place his face in her hands so she could look into his eyes and tell him it was alright—she felt the same. "Should I be troubled? Maker's breath…" Cullen began to rock back and forth. All at once her elation fled from her.
She was the cause of this—his uncertainty, this pain he must have been feeling at the dereliction of his oath. The man could not sleep because of her; this unhappiness was her doing. There was a sound at the door. Rae laid flat on her stomach and saw beneath the pew, the feet of one of the patrolling templars standing in the opening. Her heart froze in her chest, her blood chilled. No, no, no. The templar addressed Cullen who lifted his head, then stood and turned, facing the door. Rae all but held her breath to keep from making any kind of noise. She'd never known fear greater than this moment. Cullen stepped forward to the center of the room, directly across from her. Slowly—slowly she pushed herself while remaining flat, beneath one of the pews beside her and moved no more after that.
"You're up late," said the templar at the door.
"Late or early, it makes no difference when one is giving of their time to the Maker," Cullen replied. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. Such a casual gesture for him, when she'd seen nothing but straightness of posture and composure. He looked so—normal, but she couldn't let that deter her from what he still was.
"I suppose," the patrol replied.
"Calm night I take it?" Cullen asked.
"Usually is around here. No sign of that alleged blood mage running around. Again. We should count ourselves spoiled with some of the stories I hear about the other Circles. The only other Circle that's as uneventful as this is in Kirkwall—but that place is not afraid to call their tower a prison."
"Are they truly that strict?" Cullen said in mild disbelief. The man across from him shrugged.
"Just things I hear." Cullen rolled his shoulders back, giving out a great yawn. "You should really get some sleep."
"I have night watch, I can sleep through the day. I'm always better on a night watch when I stay up late the day before," Cullen replied. It was so odd to see him conversing so—casually. Even in their dinner conversations there was an air of restraint. She almost began to forget there was any danger at all in her being there—though she was most certainly not going to step out and say hello. Cullen withdrew one of his hands from his pocket to run back and forth over his short hair and then scratch his chest. She watched him almost hungrily. His broad chest… usually kept hidden beneath the armor, and there were his hands, without gloves.
"Oh, the first enchanter and knight-commander received word a few hours ago that the mage Anders has been caught and is being brought back to the tower—again," said the patrol. Cullen smirked and shook his head, laughing lightly.
"That man is going to get himself killed one of these days. I get the feeling that's what he wants," the off-duty templar remarked. Rae couldn't help but smirk—Jowan was close. So Anders was on his way back—provided he wasn't made tranquil she was going to have a lot to tell him.
Tonight was a fruitless effort in finding Jowan. After this scare the courage had all but left her to continue on her hunt. Anders was a master at sneaking around, he could aid her. Oh no… she needed to get back before Jowan. What if he already returned? How was she going to have to explain appearing on top of him on his bed? That was going to be an awkward situation—maybe slightly entertaining, but mostly awkward. Something else Anders would enjoy hearing, perhaps Karl. She wished the men would hurry up and finish their conversation so she could leave.
She rested her head in her arms as they continued their discussion—mostly about the patrol schedules and Greagoir riding them to be extra vigilant for the rumored blood mage. Jowan was no blood mage. He may have picked up a few more tricks, but that was bound to happen hanging around Anders so much. For all she knew he was the one who showed Jowan the trick. He probably knew where Jowan was sneaking off to every night and he didn't tell her. Well, if that was the case, when he returned being made tranquil would be the least of his issues after she was done with him. He would wish he was a blissfully mindless drone. The minutes dragged on and she became increasingly anxious with each passing one. Didn't that templar need to get back on his patrol? She was surprised at the laxness of security. Especially at night—though she was not ungrateful. Jowan had to have been back by now, so what was the rush anyway? She opened her mouth in a wide yawn and fought off the urge to close her eyes. No, that's what got her into this mess in the first place—her inability to actually force herself to stay awake.
"Well I best return to the rounds. You going to head out now?" the patrol asked. Rae perked up.
"I'm still not feeling the call for sleep yet. I'll probably linger here for a few more moments then leave," Cullen replied. The patrol shrugged.
"Suit yourself. Goodnight." They bid one another farewell and the patrol left. Cullen remained where he was for a moment then turned and went back to his place sitting before the statue. When Rae was sure he was going to be there for good she quietly got up and snuck over to the door. This was a giant waste of time, and Jowan was going to be so upset with her—provided she could even remember how to navigate that ridiculous maze of shelves back to the rune on the floor. If by some stroke of luck she did make it back before Jowan she would have to revisit that place under less pressing circumstances, really inspect the shelves. She glanced back at Cullen once more, her eyes falling on his back as his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders when he hunched over in prayer.
"You don't honestly think you're going to get away that easy do you?" she heard him say as she took a step out of the archway. Rae tilted her head back and shut her eyes, resisting the urge to stamp her foot on the floor in her temper. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She turned and saw him standing now, staring right at her. She suddenly felt so naked clad in her small gown, without her robe and him without his armor. "Are you going to come away from the door, or just stand there until a patrol sees you?" he asked her firmly. Rae walked forward hesitantly, stopping just in front of him. He gently took her by the arm and led her into one of the alcoves, away from the line of sight of the door.
"Cullen I…"
"Are you mad? I truly mean it, are you mad? You've picked a fine time to go sneaking around the tower in the dead of night, what with the rumors of a blood mage running around these halls," he chastised. "What am I supposed to think?"
"I just… I—I don't know," Rae said. She couldn't say anything about Jowan, but the situation looked very grim for her. "It's not what you think. Please, believe me."
"Then explain yourself." He didn't need the armor to strike the fear of authority in her. This was the Templar Cullen before her now. She could turn this in her favor, she had to.
"No… you explain. Why didn't you give me up to the patrol?" she asked. He firmly set his jaw in frustration. "Aha, I've caught you. I have a good point don't I?" Rae added, pointing a finger up at him accusingly with a grin on her face.
"This is not funny."
"What if I said I was sleepwalking?"
"Rae," Cullen said forcefully.
"Ah! You said my name. That's twice now." He sighed, clearly annoyed with her jokes and her teasing—but it was working. He didn't appear nearly as upset, and he even relaxed his shoulders. She noticed his eyes briefly look over her form. There it was, the opportunity. "I'm not trying to make this a difficult situation for you, and I'm sorry it turned out that way, please understand that. I just… you know I couldn't sleep, and that's the truth."
"How much did you hear?" he asked her suddenly.
"Before… or after the patrol came by?" Rae hesitantly replied. Cullen crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow as if to say, 'you know exactly what I mean.' The smile on Rae's face faded and she hugged herself, fidgeting somewhat as she did.
"…If it's any consolation… there isn't any other I'd rather have to be there to… help me if something were to go wrong at my Harrowing," she said. His expression softened and he let his arms slowly drop to his sides. "Which, nothing will go wrong. I'm going to pass it obviously with flying colors and top marks and…" He wasn't smiling.
"…You heard everything then," he said somberly.
"Yes. You don't need to torture yourself Cullen. When you look past the circumstance, you are a man, and I am a woman. Both born of the Maker's hand, are we not?" He shook his head and turned from her. No, not this time. She grabbed his arm and he looked at her sharply—but did not pull away. Who was she all of a sudden? Sneaking out of the apprentice quarters—lunging after templars… several days ago if someone had told her she would be doing all of these things she would have laughed and thought them to be lyrium addled. She took his hand, feeling the rough callused skin. It did… feel different. He remained still as she brought his hand to her chest, placing it over her heart so he could feel how fast it was beating. "This… Cullen. This…"
All at once he took her by the shoulders and pressed her to the wall beside the statue then kissed her hard, pinning her head back. She closed her eyes and reached up, placing her hands on either side of his head while she tasted of his lips—his tongue. When he pulled away she gasped to catch a breath that would not come so she curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him forward for another. Her blood stirred within her hotly as he pressed flush against her, his leg fitting snugly between her legs while his lips journeyed across her jaw line and down her neck. Her skin rose in reflex to his actions; every nerve in her body fired wildly at the touch of his fingertips finding their way to her bare skin.
Her head spun as the sound of their heavy breaths filled the room, and the heat between them chased away the last bit of cold from her. "Maker…" Rae felt his hot breath against her collarbone as he spoke. "I do not know if I can control myself…" He raised his head and looked into her eyes. The templar curled his fingers into her own and pinned her hands up against the wall, their lips just brushing. Rae's breathing came in short, gasping breaths and she rested her head back against the wall, looking at him through half-closed lids. She was very well aware of what her body wanted—and she hoped for an answer to its call—but Cullen was a gentleman; and a templar. He reluctantly let go of her hands and let her off from the wall. She was not his plaything.
Rae remained where she was for a moment, allowing for her blood to slow in its parade through her veins. She was just as unsure about her self-control. She felt almost animalistic in her need for him, and it somewhat frightened her. Love—it needed to be about love and not blind lust. What Cullen didn't realize was he was not only doing himself a favor, but her as well. Or perhaps he did understand this. "I apologize…" he said.
"No. There's… there's definitely no need to apologize," Rae quickly replied somewhat breathlessly. Cullen smiled bashfully. "What I find myself wondering… is where you templars learn moves like that if—well… you understand…" Rae impishly asked.
"Uh… well, I… was not raised in the Chantry…" Cullen answered.
"And?"
"Let's just say had anyone told me back then that I was to become a templar—I would have laughed in their face…"
"And thought they were lyrium addled?" Rae finished.
"Exactly," replied the templar. Rae chuckled. "That being said…" Cullen stepped forward and took her hands, running his thumbs across the backs of them. "I knew… more than a few women."
"I see," Rae said. Cullen placed a hand gently on her cheek.
"You are special—unique, incredible. In the Chantry, and in my training I learned a respect for women, and myself. For that reason… I cannot—will not take advantage of you tonight," he said. Rae felt a large smile pull at the corners of her lips and nodded. Tonight huh? She refrained from speaking the thought aloud.
"Thank you Cullen… thank you, but do believe me when I say… you have nothing to apologize for—trust me," Rae said reassuringly. The templar grinned, slyly, and gave a single nod. Rae slid down the wall to the ground and Cullen joined her at her side.
They sat on the floor of the Chantry for a while, leaning up against the wall. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm.
"…Where do we go from here…?" Cullen quietly asked after a time.
"I don't know… back to the apprentice's quarters and the barracks?" Rae tiredly jested. She looked up at him to see a smile on his lips.
"If this is meant to be, then I suppose we needn't worry with those kinds of questions," Cullen said. Rae rested her head on his chest. Leaving things up to such chance never did sit well with her.
"Yes…" she absently said. Cullen reached across his chest and tilted her head up to look at him.
"I am more than willing to give this a fighting chance." Rae sat up as he spoke, smiling warmly in comforted reply. This was more than she'd ever expected to experience in her lifetime. She joyfully kissed him, and as she pulled away he brushed the hair from her face and smiled. "You're… absolutely breathtaking. I only wonder how it was I held back for so long…"
"Because you are a good man Cullen."
"Is it strange that I feel no guilt? That I actually feel as if the Maker has blessed me?"
Rae smirked and shook her head. "Should that even be a question?" He ran his fingers back through her hair.
Cullen stood, reaching down to give her his hand. He pulled her to her feet. "I don't know how you got out of the apprentice quarters, but can you get back safely?" he asked—genuinely concerned for her.
"Yes."
"Good. You can go ahead and leave that little part a secret… so long as we meet tomorrow night?"
"Of course." Together they walked to the open door of the Chantry, listening for the patrol. With one final lingering parting kiss he watched her off. She swiftly moved through the hall and then into the stockroom, retracing her steps. Her pathway was clear of patrols, as if it was designed to be so by the Maker Himself. She entered through the old door and into the abandoned portion of the tower.
Her anxiety returned. What was going to happen when she teleported back? It took her several moments longer to navigate back through the maze of bookshelves, having somewhat forgotten how she got through the first time. So much for taking the time to carefully remember small markers her first time through.
When she finally cleared the network of shelves and found the rune on the floor, momentary relief washed over her at having actually found her way, replaced again by nervousness at what might happen next. She stood upon the marking and took the folded paper from the front of her dress. It was a miracle it hadn't slipped out. Here goes nothing. Closing her eyes she read the words, feeling the magic pull on her body. She remained still, and then opened an eye, realizing she was still on her feet. The sounds of snoring told her she was back in the apprentice quarters, except she did not appear on top of Jowan. Instead she was standing in one of the baths. As she moved from her spot she noticed one of the stones was loosened. A runic symbol had been drawn beneath the carved out stone, then put back. There was no way Jowan had come up with this on his own. What an intricate spell. She wondered how it worked that the rune from the library teleported her to the one in the bath… Anders. Nothing she could deal with at this moment.
In the meantime she removed her clothes and silently washed the bit of privacy a welcome change; then she redressed and headed back to her bed. The sun was beginning to rise—she could feel it. There were no windows to confirm it however, but her body knew it as she slipped beneath the covers. Lying on her side she stared at the bunk next to her for a moment. It felt like a dream. Her eyes trailed across the floor in the direction of Jowan's bunk, though she couldn't see it behind all of the others. She suppressed the feeling of guilt in her chest. No, he was in love with another, and she was certain of her feelings for Cullen. This was how things were meant to be. Her lips curved into a smile. All that had happened—it indeed felt like a dream. A wonderful, wonderful dream. Already she felt unable to wait for the night, but with all of her excitement, her body finally forced her into a peaceful sleep.