Shattered Promises- Chapter 3

The door was shut when she got to Greagoir's room so she decided to stand against the wall quietly until it was her turn to speak with the Knight-Commander. She wondered where Cullen was, or if he was the one in the room with Greagoir.

A sudden angry hiss of voices from the other side of the door caught her attention. She looked about the empty hallway for any signs of movement before she ambled quietly over to the door. Her hands were the first in contact with the wooden barrier and then came her pointed ear. The voices were hazy and mumbled at first but as she quieted her breathing she could hear the distinct ridicule of Wynne's tone and that of Greagoir's firing back.

"It should not be without question, Wynne. You know as well as any other that she is still a mage despite her being a hero and a Grey Warden…" His voice took on a sharp edge. "And because she is both of those things, there's all the more reason she should be held as an example-"

"She did not need a Templar at her heels when she was enlisted into the Grey Wardens, and she did not happen to need one when she was traispsing around Ferelden trying to save it from the descruction-"

A heavy sigh from Greagoir cut the mage off beore he continued. "Those were different times, Wynne. She has pledged her loyalty to the Circle once more, and as such-"

Wynne's voice rang out harshly in the air. "I do not need a history lesson, Greagoir. I know full well the rules. What I will question however, is your choice of the Templar in question. I do not think it a good idea. Given the history-"

"What are you doing?" She thought it such a strange question from Greagoir…until she realized that it wasn't Greagoir who was speaking. She quickly hurried back from the door and looked to her left. Cullen stood there next to her questioningly, his brows rising in stunned silence.

"I-I was just…" She felt the tips of her pointed ears turning a scarlet red. She thought of herself like a child who had been sneaking their hand into the cookie jar and been caught. She wondered how he had crept so close to her without her hearing a thing. Maybe she had been too enthralled with the strange conversation? But his armor was so bulky and loud at any other time, even now.

He apparently didn't find it entertaining in the least. His steely gaze drove through her in continued inquiry. He opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut just as quickly as he heard the door to Greagoir's office opening. Wynne stepped out swiftly, her features taking on an exasperated expression as she caught the two in her sight.

"I tried to place some sense into that thick skull of his." That was all she said to the both of them before she hurridly made her way out of view and down the steps.

A confused look filled both their faces as Greagoir's frame stepped into the doorway. "Cullen, Auriel. Please come in. There are some things we must speak on." He waved a tired hand behind of himself as he turned and strode toward his desk. With a loud thump Greagoir sat in the wooden chair behind of his desk. He started his speech even before the door to his room was shut.

"There have been certain things that have come to my…attention." He motioned for Cullen to shut the door before continuing.

Cullen quickly did as commanded and came to stand beside Auriel at the head of Greagoir's desk. He shifted uncomfortably numerous times before finally quieting down. His fingers began to shake and his brow allowed a trickle of sweat to form.

"As you know, Auriel, mages are rarely…if ever given the chance to step outside the tower once they have been admitted." He looked pointidly in her direction. "I understand that there were many times that you were not under the supervision of the Templars, technically."

"Yes." Auriel nodded once, her dark brows knitting slightly in thought. Her lips twisted vaguely as she reflected back on those times but they were quickly drowned out by Greagoir's voice.

"The fact that you are considered a hero…" He cleared his throat softly at that. "…and a Grey Warden has been brought to my attention several times by Wynne. It is no excuse, however, for the Templars to fall lax in their duty."

Cullen wiped one of his sweaty brows as he watched Greagoir with an unblinking gaze. His lips were held in a tight line, one of obvious displeasure. Greagoir continued unphased.

"You will no doubt be called out to help the Grey Wardens with certain things…or for political reasons…or for…certain…social calls." Every word ran dry on the tip of his tounge as he continued on the topic.

"Therefore, as you have once more sworn your allegiance with the Circle you are still bound under the watchful eyes of the Templars."

Auriel cleared her throat softly. Was it beginning to get a bit warm in here, or was it just her? She didn't like where this was heading. And she supposed Cullen didn't either by his rigid stance and unblinking features. Well, if he wasn't going to speak up about it, she was. "I understand what you are implying, but-"

"My choice is Cullen. He shall be your personal Templar if you ever decide to leave the tower. If you step a foot out of the tower without him there right behind you I will have to declare-"

A sharp intake of breath from Cullen could be heard at the sudden news.

"I regret to say that I will have to declare you an apostate." Greagoir opened a locked door to his desk and pulled out a small but beautifully laced envelope. He held it out for Auriel to take. "If you are going to leave the tower concerning this, I will have to know; as will Cullen, for obvious reasons."

Cullen finally seemed to have gained enough courage to speak. He shifted in his armor, a bleak and horrified look settling on Greagoir. "B-but…Knight-Commander. There are others better suited for the task at hand. Perhaps-"

Greagoir cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. "I trust you in this Cullen. It should be an honor to serve, should it not?"

Cullen's horror-struck look only deepened as he allowed his head to fall. "Of-Of course, Knight-Commander." He gave a half-bow in response.

Auriel took the letter from Greagoir's grasp quickly, her gaze drifting over the impeccibly clean white ribbon tied around the envelope. The materials looked overtly expensive and she wondered how Greagoir ended up with something of hers. She decided not to comment or ask anything else, right at this moment. Greagoir was set on his ways and would be on these types of matters. She was too curious at that point and time and she wanted to head back to her room as quickly as possible to unveil what the letter might be, or say. Her heart lept to her throat as she took hold of the ribbon and yanked softly on it.

"You are a mage capable of great power Auriel, and as such the demons will be drawn to you thriceover. We can never take too many precautions, particularly now, due to what has happened previously. I can only hope you understand why I had to make the decision that I did." Greagoir tipped his head to each of them and then gave them leave as he began to dip his quill to write a notice.

Cullen left with barely a word, the gleaming flash of his armor the only trace of him as he stepped from the room and bounded angrily down the stairs.

Auriel wasted no time in taking the steps to her room, two sometimes three with each stride. She stumbled in excitement a few times before she finally scuttled to her room and shut the door loudly behind of her. She placed herself on her bed in a cross-legged position and went to turn the sealed letter over. Her breath almost went ragged as she saw who the letter was addressed from. She placed a hand over her fluttering heart before she turned the envelope over. The stamp on the back sealed the opening of the envelope. It was a royal stamp, one she guessed that belonged to the King of Ferelden himself. With a hopeful heart she carefully peeled the envelope open and turned it upside down.

To her amazement beautiful dried petals of every color bounded from inside the envelope and placed themselves upon her bed. From brilliant yellows to profound reds, they all seemed almost perfect in shape and size. Her heart skipped a beat. Were these petals…were they all for her? The sheer amount of time Alistair must have taken to collect each rose and dry them…

She let out a long, merry sigh as she opened up the letter. She wondered what he was going to say to her. What he could have possibly been thinking about all these months away from her. Perhaps he realized, like she did, that they needed each other more than they both cared to admit and—

Her stomach nearly lurched as her eyes followed every bold flowing letter. She couldn't stop herself. She wanted to, wanted to stop the horror from filling her with each word she read but she was bound and helpless; enchanted by each word's wicked spell to continue further.

You are cordially invited….to witness the much anticipated marriage of beloved Alistair, King of Ferelden and…Evandi…on the fourth day of…please dress your finest…bestow a gift upon the lovely soon-to-be-wed couple…it is time for the land to celebrate this most glorious union…

Her mouth went agape, her eyes grew wide. Her tounge felt like cotton. What was he thinking sending a wedding invitation? To her of all people…maybe he wasn't thinking at all. Breakfast threatened to spew forth from her stomach. She threw the invitation away from herself as if it was burning her fingers to even touch the thing. Pain and hurt overwhelmed her senses and the grief that she had been holding back for her lost lover came spewing forth as if a dam had broken.

A scratching sounded on the outside of her door. It was continuous and followed by loud, persistant whines. Auriel stood and went to open the door for Ember. He bounded happily into the room and jumped onto her bed. She sighed heavily and closed the door before proceeding to sit next to her canine companion. She buried her face in the fur of his neck as her fingers wove through his chocolate-colored coat. He stayed there the rest of the night to help comfort her as she cried her frustrations out.