A.N.: First of all, so so sorry for the huge absence. It's the end of my second semester so you all probably know how that goes... more work than I can handle but I finally managed to get some time for writing. So yeah, I'm not giving up just yet :p Lost Moments isn't quite on hold... I just need some inspiration and to get back on the writing rhythm. Well hopefully I haven't alienated all of the people who read my stuff... yet :p
Cullen couldn't help but feel uneasy at what had just happened. Uneasy, wronged... excited. No, he couldn't feel excited. Illene was, most of the time, her usual quiet self but this side of her, he most certainly did not expect to see. Or feel. He was far more than surprised when the small mage rose her heels and planted a kiss on his lips. A kiss he still felt, even now, as he sat on the common room and stared more at his food than he actually ate it. A part of him kept reminding him constantly of the double jump his stomach did at that particular moment but his vows quickly rose up a wall against it. Taking a small baked potato to his mouth, Cullen chewed on it pensively, reassuring himself that it was all a nuisance and that if he wanted to be a good templar, he shouldn't dabble in such things. Illene was young, cocky and foolish. As many mages were.
Even so, vivid images of her dark alabaster hair, flowing behind her when she turned away, flooded his mind. Her scent clouded his thoughts and it all felt like poison seeping through his skin. His fists clenched on the side of his plate and he rose up, stiffened in anger, leaving his meal barely touched and the room as soon as he could. Shutting himself out to the rest of the world, Cullen hurried through the empty halls, as everyone were having their evening meals. As soon as he found the door to his room, he pushed it forcefully and locked it behind him, leaning against the heavy wooden frame, letting out a deep sigh that had been caught on his throat.
His knees buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground, not even minding the pain as his knees clashed against the hard stone floor. His eyes quickly were closed shut and his hands clasped together as his lips muttered words that only he could hear, in his frantic prayer. Perhaps Andraste could purge these thoughts from him, to breathe them away from his soul through every pore. But her presence would not leave him and would surely follow him to his sleep. So he did not even regard his bed, afraid that the vision of it would bring the sight of her. So, he prayed.
Illene sat on her bed, dangling her feet while she chew on her finger. She kept biting her nail without any intent, merely taking up the task as a means to keep her hands occupied. She thought of the First Enchanter and her meeting with him. Of that warrior he had presented to her, of the Grey Wardens, he said. The prospect of being recruited was both alluring and repellant. Here, in her gilded cage, Illene had all she wanted... a roof, food, her books. But did she truly want to grow old in this place, with no tales to tell except of how she passed her Harrowing? But then again, the thought of battling Darkspawn... even all the promise of adventure and glory of battle soon faded when she thought of her enemies. She had read about these creatures, of how they tainted the land all around them and of how they had robbed the dwarven people of their own cities.
Exhaling deeply, Illene threw herself backwards, letting her head land on the pillows she had splayed on the bed. Without realizing it, she licked her lips, bringing the tip of her fingers to them. Ever since she had kissed the blushing templar, they felt somehow... different. Illene couldn't help but frown at the knot she felt forming on her stomach, at the thought. Being with a man was nothing new, but she was hardly proficient at it. She had been with someone who was far more experienced and to see someone like Cullen, completely oblivious, untouched, was utterly fascinating to her. How could someone live without the touch of another, the momentary affection of the flesh, instead trading it for prayer and the salvation of one' soul...
It baffled her. And as much as she tried, Illene couldn't even begin to understand what would make someone take that path, make that choice. True, the templars were chosen at a young age, much like mages. But Cullen was very much a man now and he could make his own choices. And he chose to devote himself to the order. She couldn't understand... truthfully, she didn't want to. It was far more fun to make him see her point of view.
Stretching out her arm, Illene reached for the small book she kept on her nightstand, opening it above her on the spot she had last left.
To successfully weave a web of energy...
...close one's eyes and shut one's mind...
...imagine a doorway...
...feel it through your veins...
Illene tried to concentrate on the text but the words, the letters even seemed to do nothing but jumble themselves together. The empty room she laid in seemed so cold at the moment and she felt so alone, the silence feeling so... quiet. Leaving the book opened on the bed, Illene left her room in haste, wearing nothing more but her nightgown.
Cullen was setting his armor on the wooden stand he kept on the corner of his room when he heard the door behind him being opened. He quickly turned his head back and widened his eyes at the sight before him, mentally repeating the prayer he had uttered over and over before, but he quickly lost his train of thought as Illene stepped inside, her bare feet not making a single sound on the cold floor. Her bare shoulders leaned against the door behind her and she looked at him, mouth slightly agape. A few strands of her hair laid softly on her shoulders and her chest, barely covered by the white fabric.
Cullen could feel the heat flushing to his cheeks as his eyes laid on her hips, memorizing how every inch of the almost sheer fabric clung to her flesh. He opened his mouth but quickly closed it again, averting his gaze in shame.
"Hello Cullen. I..." Illene tugged on the fabric of her nightgown and looked at him, her eyes burning through him.
"I wanted to apologize for before."
"You c-can't be here."
Cullen mentally slapped himself, his stuttering betraying his nervous state. He wanted to look calm and collected but how could he do such a thing when she was there, looking every bit like a goddess?
She frowned at his words and took a step forward, looking intently into him.
"I can't? Why? I'm merely speaking with you."
Cullen tried not to notice when she took another step forward and her hand grabbed his bare arm, the heat of her skin on his being almost unbearable. He couldn't even breathe, reciting in his head every single prayer he had learned since a small child. Mages were not alluring, mages were not inviting.
"I could not help myself..."
They were dangerous and an impending menace and...
"I've seen the way you look at me. It's hard not to notice. And I simply..."
Her breath. Hot on his chin, her chest nearly touching his as he kept his eyes firmly glued to the ground, trying as hard as he could to ignore her presence. But her hand slid upwards, heat surging from her fingertips and making him feel dizzy.
"...couldn't resist."
Getting away from her grip, Cullen took a step backwards and grabbed a discarded blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders, still averting his gaze from hers.
"You're..."
You're not decent.
"You'll catch a cold."
This is not right.
Cullen fearfully rose his eyes to meet hers. Heat was surging to her face but it all came from the anger that now clouded her eyes. Her teeth were clenched and her eyes were wide at him. His seemingly innocent gesture did not please her. At all.
"You... you!" She grabbed the blanket and threw it on the floor, exasperation seeping from her every movement.
"Illene..." Cullen tried to call out for her, surprised at her reaction, of how the wall that Illene had kept in place at all times, quickly crumbled. She shook her head, a scowl tarnishing her features as her hand flew to the door handle and she violently opened the door in one swift motion.
Before Cullen could say a single word, she was gone. The templar wanted to sigh of relief, to feel at ease. Then why did her departure make him feel like he was in the midst of the coldest Winter?