Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed this story!

A very special thank you to my awesome Beta-Reader and friend, Jen, for rescuing some of my sentences, and for being a top bird!

~O~

Gabby and Nathaniel waited patiently in the main foyer of the Circle Tower. Gabby looked around and sighed. "It's been a long time since I was last here," she said wistfully.

"Do you miss it?" Nathaniel asked.

"I don't know," Gabby said thoughtfully. "I miss my time as an apprentice, certainly. We had a lot of fun. I had a lot of friends here," she continued, her voice growing quieter. "Some of them were like kin to me."

Nathaniel watched her for a moment. "So, in a way, you lost your family here," he said quietly. Gabby looked at him, then cast her head down. "I'm sorry," Nathaniel apologised. "It's just that you never talk about your time here. It must still be very painful for you."

"It was painful for a lot of people, Nathaniel," she replied softly.

Two Templars approached; the first one was Ser Drake, who had gone to inform the Knight-Lieutenant of their arrival. The second was a tall, slim man with close-cropped, black hair and a dusky complexion. He sported a short beard. As he reached them, he extended his hand, first to Gabby.

"Good day," Gabby said, "I am Warden-Commander Surana, and this is my Lieutenant, Warden Howe."

"Greetings, Wardens," he said cordially. "I am Knight-Lieutenant Smyth, second in command of the Templars."

"Second in command?" Gabby asked, confused. "Since when has there been a second to the Knight-Commander?"

"It's a new rule," Ser Smyth replied. "The Chantry have effected many changes since…well, I'm sure you know." He cleared his throat. "The Knight-Commander is unavailable at present," he explained. "May I be of assistance?"

"We've come to annoy you," Gabby said cheerfully.

"Ah," Smyth replied with a small chuckle. "You are recruiting then, are you not?"

"I'm afraid so," she grinned.

"Let us sit and talk," Smyth replied, deciding against using Cullen's office in case he returned. "This way, please," he said as he led them to a small room, sparsely furnished with a desk and some chairs. He invited them to sit and closed the door.

"Now," he began. "As I'm sure you're aware, Warden-Commander, we are still building our contingent of mages from…well, what happened before…"

Nathaniel noted that the mages and Templars alike seemed reluctant to discuss what had happened at the Tower.

"…so I am afraid we cannot spare any mages at the present time," he continued. "However, we do appear to have a glut of Templars," he grinned. "The Chantry assigned us many new Templars…too many, in fact. A lot of them have too much time on their hands."

"Are you suggesting we test Templars for the Grey Wardens?" Nathaniel enquired.

"I am indeed, Ser," Smyth replied, "if that would be helpful to you?"

"Come now, Knight-Lieutenant," said Gabby with a wry smile. "Do you really think Templars would take orders from a mage?"

"Not all of them, no," Smyth said honestly. "Some of the older Knights, definitely not. However," he added, "some of our younger Knights may be more tractable."

Gabby glanced at Nathaniel. "What do you think?" she asked.

"The Templars are renowned warriors," Nathaniel reasoned, "and their dispel abilities would be very useful against Emissaries and the like." Gabby nodded, but was unsure of how Templars would integrate with her and the other Warden mages at Vigil's Keep – most of whom were apostates.

"I will think on it, Knight-Lieutenant," she replied. "I want you to know I appreciate your co-operation."

"Of course," Smyth replied. "Have you made arrangements to stay at the Spoiled Princess?" he asked.

"Oh, erm, no…" Gabby said hesitantly. "I thought maybe we could stay here, if it's not too much trouble? You should have plenty of spare rooms, no?" seeing Smyth's hesitation, she added quickly, "but if it's inconvenient, then, yes, we could stay at the inn, if they have any rooms."

"Oh, it's not inconvenient, I can assure you," Smyth replied, suddenly feeling rather hot. "It is just that I have to seek the Knight-Commander's permission before anyone stays here, and as I said, he is unavailable."

"So, how is Greagoir?" Gabby asked, more out of politeness than genuine concern.

"Erm," Smyth mumbled, clearing his throat. "Knight-Commander Greagoir no longer resides at the Tower."

"Oh?" Gabby asked sharply. "Where is he, then?"

"He has moved on to pastures new," Smyth said evasively.

"I see," Gabby replied, realising that no further details would be forthcoming. "So, who is in charge now?" she asked curiously.

Smyth took a deep breath, unsure of how the news would be received. "Knight-Commander Cullen is now in charge of the Tower," he said calmly, watching her for a reaction.

"Cullen…really?" she replied nonchalantly. Nathaniel was none the wiser, but Smyth sensed a sudden spike in her mana field. They exchanged glances, and, for the briefest of moments, they both knew.

"How is he?" she asked casually, keeping up the pretence, although she could not meet Smyth's eyes.

"He fully discharges his duties as Knight-Commander," Smyth said carefully, not wishing to lie.

Another spike. "I see," Gabby said quietly, feeling a headache coming on. "Perhaps it would be best if we stayed at the inn, then."

"If you feel that is best," Smyth replied with relief. "I shall have Kester take you across the lake when you are ready."

"Knight-Lieutenant?" a frantic voice called from outside.

"Excuse me for a moment," Smyth said heavily, rising to his feet and closing the door behind him.

"Why are we staying at the inn?" Nathaniel asked. "Do you not get along with this…Cullen?"

Gabby sighed deeply. "We, erm…have some…history," she said miserably.

"History?" Nathaniel replied, narrowing his eyes. "Do you mean…"

The door opened and Ser Smyth entered, appearing a little flushed. "Please forgive me, Wardens, but I am needed elsewhere and must take my leave of you," he said apologetically. "I shall return shortly. May I ask that you remain here until my return?"

"Is something wrong?" asked Gabby. "May we assist?"

"No, but thank you, Warden-Commander," he replied. "Are you in need of refreshments?"

Gabby and Nathaniel exchanged glances. Nathaniel shook his head. "No, Ser," Gabby replied. "Please, attend to your duties. We will wait."

"Thank you," he said gratefully, closing the door. They listened as his footfalls broke into a run.

"I wonder what's going on?" wondered Gabby. And why is Cullen unavailable? She thought. Does he know I'm here, and wishes not to see me?

~O~

Ser Smyth strode after his fellow Templar up to the fourth floor. 'Something's happened to the Knight-Commander,' had been his only words. They quickened their pace as they reached the corridor leading to Cullen's quarters; a trail of blood led to his door.

Upon entering, Smyth was astonished to see a female mage tending to Cullen, who lay unconscious on his bed. His armour had been removed, leaving Cullen in only a shift and leggings. The bed sheets were spattered with blood. Two more Templars stood next to the bed, and made way for Smyth as he entered.

"What in Andraste's name has happened?" Smyth exclaimed.

"He was found collapsed outside his room, bleeding heavily," replied the mage, whose name was Leigh. "He had a deep gouge in his forearm. He'd applied a healing poultice, but it was insufficient."

"He injured himself?" asked Smyth. "But how? I spoke to him only 20 minutes ago! He said he was feeling unwell, but…" he stopped as he remembered the blood on the floor of Cullen's office.

"May I speak to you in private, Knight-Lieutenant?" asked Leigh, glancing at the three other Templars in the room.

"Of course," Smyth replied. "Clear the room," he ordered, waiting for the Templars to depart before closing the door.

"Ser," Leigh said, turning to Smyth, "I believe that this injury was self-inflicted."

"I don't understand," Smyth replied. "What do you mean, self-inflicted?"

She held up Cullen's left forearm. It was covered in old scars, many of them appearing to be from deep wounds. Ser Smyth closely examined the scars, his mouth agape.

"His other arm is the same," Leigh explained, "and his right thigh has been stabbed several times in the past. Whether those injuries were self-inflicted or not is hard to say," she added. "What I cannot explain, however, is this."

Leigh pulled Cullen's shirt up and, with Smyth's assistance, pushed him onto his side, giving a clear view of his back. Ser Smyth recoiled in horror at what he saw. The skin on Cullen's back was raised and puckered; in some places the skin was black, in others, an angry purple. "What…what is that?" he stammered.

"It's a burn, Ser," Leigh replied gravely. "A magical burn."

Ser Smyth glanced sharply at her. "Are you saying this is the work of a mage?" he whispered.

"Without a doubt, Ser," Leigh replied, pursing her lips. "Although, I cannot think for the life of me what kind of magic was responsible. None that any in the Tower possess, that's for sure."

Ser Smyth covered his face with his hands and paced to the other side of the room, trying to take it all in. He was fairly certain that Uldred had been responsible for the disfiguring burn, but the rest of Cullen's injuries made no sense to him.

"You said that some of his injuries were self-inflicted," Smyth said to Leigh. "What makes you think that? And why would anyone injure themselves on purpose?"

"I've seen it before," Leigh replied quietly, shaking her head. "Sometimes, when a person feels overwhelming grief or torment, they use self-injury as an emotional outlet, where none other exists." She pulled a blanket over Cullen. "It is indicative of a deeply troubled mind."

"I've never heard of such a thing," Smyth muttered in disbelief.

"It's more common than you think, Knight-Lieutenant," she replied. "I've put him to sleep," she added. "I'll return and check on him later."

"Erm," Smyth mumbled, thinking that may not be a good idea. "I shall send for you, Leigh, if it becomes necessary. You've done a fine job here. Thank you."

Leigh sighed and walked toward the door.

"Oh, and Leigh?" Smyth called.

"I know," she said with annoyance. "Not a word." She closed the door firmly behind her.

Smyth sank back into a chair and closed his eyes. This was an intolerable situation. He had two Wardens downstairs who were after recruits. Smyth couldn't release anyone to the Wardens without Cullen's consent. Cullen would want to speak to the Wardens, when and if he was in a fit state to do so. Smyth racked his brain to think of a way for the Wardens to depart with what they wanted, without Cullen ever knowing their identities.

Finding no answers, he decided he should return to the Wardens before they started roaming the Tower. He headed downstairs, and went straight outside to the jetty, where Kester waited. He did not want the Wardens around when Cullen woke up.

"Ah, good evening, Ser," said Kester politely as Ser Smyth approached.

"Good evening, Kester," Smyth replied. "Just wanted to let you know that the Wardens will be departing shortly – they wish to stay at the Spoiled Princess for the night."

"The Spoiled Princess? Not a chance," Kester scoffed. "Full to bursting, it is. They put a sign up this afternoon – 'NO MORE ROOMS'."

"Full?" Smyth exclaimed with dismay. "Are you certain?"

"Quite certain, Ser," Kester replied. "It's always full when the weather's good around the Lake – lots of young couples come here to er, well…be romantic by the Lake."

"Oh. I see," Smyth replied, feeling defeated and tired. "Well, thank you anyway, Kester. Good evening to you."

"Good evening, Ser," Kester replied as Ser Smyth headed back into the Tower.

~O~

Ser Stanford and Ser Thorpe, both off duty Templars, gossiped idly as they stood in a corridor, after first ensuring no one was around. "I feel sorry for Smyth, with what he has to put up with," said Ser Stanford, "what with the Knight-Commander the way he is."

"Well, I think he's finally cracked, this time," mumbled Ser Thorpe. "I heard he tried to do away with himself this afternoon."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Stanford laughed derisively. "He'd never do that. Who'd do his floggings for him then? Bastard." he muttered.

"No, I'm telling you, I overheard some of the mages earlier on," Thorpe replied. "They said he was found upstairs in a pool of blood. That healer, Leigh, tended to him."

"Are you sure it wasn't attempted murder?" Stanford snorted. "Mind you," he added, "that Cullen always was touched in the head. I wouldn't be surprised at anything he does."

The conversation ended abruptly as a nearby door flew open and a furious-looking mage stood in the doorway. "Perhaps I should inform Knight-Lieutenant Smyth that the pair of you have nothing better to do but gossip!" she raged.

"Oh, erm, no, Miss," Stanford stammered. "W-we meant nothing by it, honestly."

A hand firmly gripped Gabby's arm and pulled her back into the room. "What are you doing?" Nathaniel rebuked. "We're here to recruit, not to involve ourselves in the internal affairs of the Tower!"

"This used to be my home once, Nate, in case you've forgotten!" Gabby said hotly, using his nickname, which he disliked. "There are still a handful of people alive here that I used to know!"

Nathaniel sighed and fell quiet. Gabby massaged her forehead. Her head pounded. "Look, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I know you're right; I just heard them say something that…disturbed me."

"About the Knight-Commander?" Nathaniel asked cautiously. Gabby nodded, looking at the floor. "Gabby," Nathaniel said softly, "what happened between the two of you?"

"Nothing," she replied sourly. "Nothing ever happened," she said, her eyes glazed over as pictures of past memories came into her mind. "We…we had…feelings for each other, at one point, though," she added quietly.

"And that's forbidden, isn't it?" Nate asked astutely.

Gabby laughed mirthlessly. "It's about as forbidden as it gets, yes!"

"So, if nothing happened…" Nathaniel began.

Gabby sighed and sat down; Nathaniel joined her, sitting opposite. "I used to flirt with him, and he…well, he was embarrassed by it," she recalled. "He was really shy. One day I asked him if he wanted me to stop," she said, smiling fondly. "He blushed and said 'no.'

He wrote me a poem once, you know," she grinned sheepishly, nodding her head at Nathaniel's surprised expression. "I still have it. It was really sweet. It was pushed under my door one day. It was written anonymously, but I suspected it was from him. I decided to call his bluff, and the next day I thanked him for the beautiful poem."

"How did he react?" asked Nathaniel.

Gabby smiled lovingly. "He turned the brightest shade of red you could imagine, Nathaniel, and he stuttered so hard I feared he would be sick!" She shook her head and sighed.

"Then I was conscripted, and thought I'd never see him again," she continued, "and then I became involved with Alistair. We had to return to the Tower, eventually, though." She hung her head and fell silent for a few moments. Nathaniel said nothing and waited.

"Most of them were dead when we went inside," she whispered, her eyes staring through Nathaniel's chest. "I thought they were all dead…I thought he was dead. But he wasn't," she said, her voice taking on a brittle edge. Nathaniel noticed that her hands were clenched. "We found him trapped. Uldred had…well, I don't know what he did, but he'd turned Cullen against the mages. He turned on me…the things he said…I…"

Nathaniel's brow wrinkled as she dashed away a tear. She laughed suddenly, bitterly and completely devoid of mirth. "When Alistair – the King – and I got back to camp afterwards, he told me he loved me for the first time…" she stood up and began pacing the room. "I really know how to pick them, don't I?" she said to Nathaniel. "I seem to have a penchant for emotionally crippled Templars!"

Nathaniel was at a loss for what to say. "I'm sorry, Gabby," was all he could muster.

Ser Smyth re-entered the room and looked at Gabby with dismay. "Are you alright, Warden-Commander?"

Gabby stared at the Templar, trying to decide if she should demand information as to what was really happening in the Tower, but decided against it. She had learned from Nathaniel that subtlety and patience were often the best routes to garnering information.

"I feel a migraine coming on, Knight-Lieutenant," she replied, not altogether untruthfully. She touched her forehead and was bathed in a blue, glowing light. "That's a little better," she murmured.

"Are you a healer, Warden-Commander?" Smyth asked.

"No, Ser," she replied.

"Well, if you wish, I could send for a healer to tend to you," he offered.

"That won't be necessary, Ser," she responded gratefully. "I think I shall feel better once we're on our way across the Lake. The fresh air should do me good."

"Unfortunately, Warden-Commander, I have just learned that the inn is full to capacity," Smyth informed them. "Therefore, I have arranged quarters for you both. I shall take you to them now," he said, gesturing with his hand for them to exit the room. "You will find food and drink in your quarters."

Gabby and Nathaniel thanked him, and he showed them to their quarters on the third floor, with the Senior Enchanters. He thought about assigning them an escort for the duration of their stay, then decided against it; he did not want to arouse suspicion, and, as far as Smyth knew, the Wardens knew nothing of what had transpired.

"Will we be able to speak to the Knight-Commander tomorrow, Ser Smyth?" Gabby asked before she entered her room.

"I hope so, yes," he uttered, hoping she wouldn't notice the doubt in his voice. "I shall have someone send for you both in the morning."

"Thank you, Knight-Lieutenant," Gabby replied. "You're very gracious."

Ser Smyth bowed and wished them both a pleasant night, before heading off in search of a healer to tend to his own headache.