Quite a bit of Cullen in this chapter, just 'cause I love him. Not as much as I love Morrigan of course, so he definitely won't be getting his happy little Amell wedding and such, but I feel I owe it to the guy to give him a little more text-time for being so darned adorable. Anyway, I promise we'll be getting to the main game soon, after a chapter of what may be relatively confusing flashback sequences. What can I say? I'm a flashback whore. Ooh, also… there is a big Dragon Age two link, which my friend and I thought was neat, as it would be able to be referenced in her story. It also made some other things easier to explain later. You'll see…

Chapter Three: On The Run

Breathing becoming ragged, Natalia forced herself to keep moving. Her legs were burning with an ache that coursed through her very being, seemingly tearing at her insides as she ran faster than she had ever had need to before. She didn't know how long she could keep going at the pace she was, with no thought for direction or destination.

She did know however, that it was necessary.

Trees and branches whirred past her as she went, the landscape blurring into a hue of colour and sound, only made worse by the tears that had begun to fill her eyes. She was desperately trying to hold them back – she had never been one for crying – but the constricting pain in her chest was not even close to the hurt she felt welling up inside at the thought of how bad things had turned out.

Once again, she was awfully aware of how alone she was as she raced through the trees, urged on only by the refusal to let everyone's sacrifice be in vain. For that reason, more so than any thought for her own life was why she continued to run, leaping over fallen branches and dodging past thick trunks at incredible speed, unwavering even as her fatigue grew to increasingly painful heights. Adrenaline was doing most of her work for her, combined with the sheer force of will to survive driving her onwards.

Despite her determination, there were times that her legs felt ready to collapse from beneath her and that her chest would explode, when she felt sure she could go no longer. It was times like these, in which she briefly wondered how things had managed to go so wrong…

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXI

Cullen knelt pensively at the feet of a stone Andraste, his hands clasped and his eyes shut tight in an attempt to stop seeing that blasted mage everywhere around him. It was no use, as even when he closed his eyes, she was all he saw.

It had been the same since he had arrived at the Circle, seeing her for the first time with her head in a book, a confused expression pulling her brows in opposite directions as she chewed on her lower lip. Her delicate face was framed softly by two waving strands of hair that fell from either side of her bun.

With a sigh, she took her hand from the book and pulled at the bun until it was undone, releasing a long cascade of dark hair, falling past her shoulders in waterfall of chestnut hues. He remembered thinking that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, his chest constricting in surprise after being brought up in a chantry of stern, old women.

He also remembered smiling humorously from behind his helmet when she sighed; throwing the book back onto the table with a noise that sounded something akin to "meh", completed with a shrug for emphasis.

Moments such as that seemed to happen often after that, feeling his heart warm a little more each time he saw her. Even when she was causing trouble with her elven friend Kallian, he couldn't bring himself to be angry or severe because every time it happened she had a mischievous glint in her eye and a smile on her face that only seemed to make his breath hitch and chest even tighter.

Eventually, his secret admiration from afar, developed into an infatuation which left him a stumbling mess whenever he was around her, his thoughts beginning to drift towards the unholy. It was wrong. He knew that mage's were unpredictable and dangerous; it was his job to hunt them down and kill them should they ever step out of line.

Yet there he was, a Templar in love with a mage.

He was wary to admit his love, even to himself. It was a violation against the maker and he knew it was wrong. So how then could it feel so perfect? He had tried to stay away from her for a long time, hoping to avoid ever being in the position to break his vows. Ultimately however, he had failed when faced with those crystalline eyes that stared up at him with pure want and perfect, soft lips drawing ever nearer to his.

He couldn't believe that he had broken his vows, yet part of him was completely unable to regret it. Still, he knew he had to talk to her about where they stood.

As he was about to stand up from his position in the corner, he heard a familiar voice resonate against the walls of the room from the doorway.

"Tranquil! What do you mean Tranquil Jowan? Th-they can't! it's… are you sure?" Came Natalia's panicked voice, almost bordering on a desperation that made his heart break. Kallian's voice followed.

"Talia… that document in Irving's room you asked me to look at, it had the orders on it. I saw it with my own eyes. Look, don't worry because-" Her voice slowly trailed off as she caught a slow movement in the corner of her eye, quickly flicking her head in its direction.

Soon, all eyes were fixated on Cullen's now visible form, wearing a distraught expression that punched the air from Natalia's lungs as, his eyes glued to hers with pure abject pain and accusation. After a few moments of painful silence, Cullen straightened his shoulders and stormed straight past the group into the hall, determined to put as much distance from himself and that lying, calculating mage as possible.

"Cullen! Wait-" He soon heard rushed footsteps following his, followed by a hand resting on his plated arm. Instantly, he pulled back like he'd been stung, turning to face her with a rage that no-one had ever witnessed from him before. Natalia looked taken aback by the fury evident in his features, even worse when it did nothing to hide the anguish that lay beneath it.

"You used me!" He stated, his jaw set into a hard line. Natalia sighed. Despite being awful with anything remotely emotional, she found that she hated having hurt him. In reality, she hated to hurt anyone, or disappoint them; for that reason, it was easier to let them have low expectations of her in the first place. Cullen however, had always put her on a pedestal and it was something she didn't know how to deal with, as the fall had been a painful one.

"In part. And I'm sorry. I…" Her gaze fell to the floor, cursing – not for the first time - how bad she was at expressing her feelings.

"Believe it or not, I really do like you. In fact, you're probably one of my favourite people in this entire circle. Not that I have anyone outside the circle, so I guess that means you're one of my favourite people in general. I mean-" She mentally slapped herself for beginning to sound as nervous as he usually did. Cullen simply regarded her coolly, before turning and starting to leave.

"They're going to kill me Cullen." Natalia knew it was unfair to drop all her problems on him so suddenly, but from what he had heard already, and the mood he was in, their plan would be over before it had even begun if he ran off and told Graegoir.

He turned again, all hatred washed from his face only to be replaced with a confused horror.

"What?" At hearing the worry in his voice, Natalia was sure she could trust him. She had to trust him; without this, they would fail.

"They think it's blood magic, my sway over people; especially you. How could a Templar fall prey to a mage if it weren't for blood magic?" She muttered angrily, unable to believe that anyone could think such a thing. Was it truly so implausible that she was simply that good of a whore? 'Apparently so' she sighed to herself.

"They can't just kill you." He sounded so sure, though in part, it was obvious he was trying to assure himself more than anything.

"You're right. They're going to make me tranquil instead."

The shock on his face would have almost been laughable, if it hadn't been for the grief that underlay such an expression. He swallowed the frantic outburst that threatened to spill forth quickly, attempting to stay calm as best as possible.

"They wouldn't do that. It goes against all chantry law to make a full mage tranquil. You passed your harrowing; you're no longer an apprentice. It's not possible." He spoke defiantly, still desperately hoping he was right, clawing at any chance that this was all some kind of sick joke.

The look on Natalia's face told a different story.

"You saw my markings Cullen, on my back. Do you know what they mean?" Cullen shook his head, not trusting his voice at that particular moment. She continued.

"They mean that I am far more valuable to them alive than dead. They mean that the potential power I possess is too important for them to waste. No, better to keep me as a mindless slave don't you think?" She spat the words out bitterly, unable to meet his eyes.

"I don't understand." It was an understatement. Cullen was barely able to keep track of anything with all the thoughts whirring round his head, incomprehensible fears and desperation clawing at his insides.

The two were interrupted by quiet footfalls. They turned to see Kallian joining them, a sad look in her green eyes.

"Those markings are the work of a very evil man with an impossible idea that almost cost Natalia her life and wiped most of her memories of her childhood. Those markings should have killed her outright. Lyrium, embedded in the skin – especially the skin of a mage – should be lethal. But he found a way. Sick bastard." She muttered angrily, silently cursing the man responsible for such evil. Cullen however, was still wrapping his head around the whole idea.

"Lyrium? That's… but, that's impossible."

Natalia sighed. She really wasn't prepared to rehash the event that had brought her the pale tattoo like swirls that traced her spine, nor the unfathomable lengths to which a madman had gone in order to create a super-mage. She certainly wasn't ready to go into detail about the process itself; it had been the single most excruciating experience of her life, something she could still remember so vividly as being her first memory. Or one of her first at least; little things came back to her every so often, through a scent or an image that reminded her of a time otherwise lost to her.

"It doesn't matter. There's only one thing that truly makes a difference to any of this... was it blood magic?" Cullen looked taken aback by Natalia's question, who was now staring at him pointedly with a indecipherable expression.

"Sorry?"

"Am I a blood mage? You either believe as they do, or you're on our side, and it all comes down to whether you broke your vows because I used a vile magic to get inside your head, or because you - a Templar – did the unthinkable, and fell in love with a mage."

There was an abrupt silence as Cullen regarded Natalia thoughtfully. It would be easy to say yes. She was a blood mage and had forced him to break his vows, something that was completely out of his control.

He knew it was a serious possibility; she could have easily manipulated him in such a way if she were indeed a maleficar. She could even have sway in his mind even now, sinking in her claws as he stood there defenceless. He almost wished that were the case. But as he looked into those now so familiar eyes - feeling his heart squeeze pitifully as he remembered every smile – he knew that he could blame no one but himself for the way he felt when he was around her.

He loved her.

"You're not a blood mage." He whispered, knowing what it meant. Letting her be made tranquil was not even close to being an option and the vast array of rules he would have to break for this woman were overwhelmingly shameful. Though, as both she and Kallian grinned, wrapping their arms around him he couldn't bring himself to care. Her smile was like watching the clouds part and seeing the maker himself cast a heavenly light in their place. To keep that alive, he would do anything.

It was then the three parted at a new voice in their midst. They turned to see Anders with a smug grin on his face.

"Welcome to the team Cullen. Now, would you like to hear the plan?"

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

During her long run, Natalia had often thought that she had never properly thanked Anders for the part he played in her escape. She also regretted not saying all the things she should have said to Jowan and Cullen; most of all however, she wished she could have said goodbye to Kallian. She couldn't have known that they wouldn't make it with her however, but she berated herself all the same.

She could soon feel the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, making a horizontal path due to the wind that rushed past.

The plan had never been perfect. It was a rushed and desperate affair, a result of great risk and terrible urgency. Though they all knew that there was no other option; a fate worse than death awaited them if they failed to go through with it. Though, as she ran couldn't help but wonder if it had been worth it. She would forever be running… alone.

The thought terrified her. She had risked so many people to save her own hide.

A gasp of frustration and pain could be heard in the near silence of a clearing she had recently journeyed into as her foot caught on a loose rock on the ground. She bit back more frustrated tears, adamant that she would not succumb to such weakness, but push on in haste, lest her friends sacrifices be all for nought.

Her weakness got the better of her however, as she lay defeated in the cool grass, comforting her broken form. She was suddenly aware of how tired she was, the seemingly ever strengthening fatigue resting heavily on her shoulders and refusing her the ability to pick herself up.

She knew the Templars could arrive at any moment. Though she had gotten a head start in their little race, Natalia had no clue as to where she was heading, other than a general Eastern direction. She was aware she had passed by close to Highever the day before, afraid to go any closer to the population for fear of Templars that would be sure to grace the chantry there.

She had originally hoped to eventually reach Denerim and destroy her Phylactery, but originally there were also supposed to be others helping her. Things seemed to have a way of not working out at all. Instead - drained and unsure of herself - she continued to wander, picking off animals and finding streams where she could.

Those hunting her however, knew the lay of the land. They knew exactly where she was and how to find her at all times. The thought was not an encouraging one.

She didn't know how long she had been lying before - as if to answer her nightmares - she suddenly heard the sound she had been waiting for. The heavy rustling of grass alerted her to a great many people approaching at speed and for a moment, she was almost resigned to her fate.

So tired and alone, she couldn't help but feel a little hopeless. She couldn't run forever, and she certainly couldn't find and destroy her phylactery by herself; that was even considering whether she made it to Denerim at all. No, in that brief moment she was almost glad it was over. Almost.

It was in that brief moment of despair that Kallian's voice popped into her mind.
'Don't you dare give up now idiot; you are not a quitter…Fight damn you!' Her Kallian-mind-double was right and she knew it. Natalia was not a quitter, and if anything she was determined to go out swinging.

With a new found resolve she picked herself up off the ground, dusting herself off without even caring to glance in her company's direction.

"Finally, you will meet your justice maleficar." The helmeted Templar spoke every word with an assertive self-righteousness that made Natalia grit her teeth in anger. She finally looked his way, refusing to flinch at the sight of ten Templars lined up and ready to destroy her.

"Just try and kill me. Let's see how dead you get." She smirked. Unfairly, she couldn't quite judge their reaction to her arrogance.

"You misunderstand me. Graegoir wants you brought back alive. Apparently your talents are too rare to go to waste. Besides, death is far too lenient for your sort if you ask me."

"I don't think anybody would. You're clearly not the sharpest sword in the armoury if you think you're going to get me back to that prison."

To her surprise, he laughed, though there was nothing humorous in it. His laughter was something different entirely, something spiteful and cruel. Seconds later she realised why.

"Kallian!"