A/N: Sort of an interlude of a chapter, plot gets going again next installment. Also…forgive the review whoring, but…please? As much as I love Claufont, Apollo Wings, KatDancer2, and mandymc (and seriously, how can I not? The word awesome comes to mind….) I would love to hear from my lurkers. Nothing kicks writers block in the face faster than a review, lovies, so don't be shy!
Cullen hissed as the blade parted his flesh, pain blossoming before the blood even appeared. His fingers rose to dab gently at his cheek, leaving a small crimson stain behind.
"Need some help?" Thais inquired distractedly from her perch across the room. Cullen frowned at her reflection in the mirror, noting that she had not even glanced up from that twice damned book of blood magic when she made the offer.
"I'm a grown man," he muttered, raising the dagger once more to his face, "I do not need help shaving."
"Clearly you do, seeing as that's the third time you've cut that pretty face to ribbons."
"Just focus on your descent into evil, would you?" he grumbled, tilting his chin up to reach the stubble along his neck, "You're distracting me."
It had been a week since they had stumbled upon the plague struck village and their circumstances seemed little better than when they had first arrived. It seemed like every day brought with it a new death, and those that Thais managed to keep alive never quite seemed to get fully better. Galena, the apostate mage whom they had healed upon their arrival, seemed of special concern to the healer, though Cullen thought she appeared to be stable in recovery. She had become a vital asset to their crusade against the disease, offering to brew healing potions when she had the strength to do so, and it had helped to keep a few more souls alive. It had shocked him to discover an untrained mage hiding in plain sight, and his templar training took over, thoughts of how to sweep Galena off to the circle forming immediately in his mind. By this point Thais knew him well enough to see the weight of vows written on his face and she had shoved him into the nearest wall and bared her teeth at him in a feral snarl.
"If I ever see that girl at the circle, so help me, I will destroy you. Tranquil or not, I'll remember her, Chantry Boy and if she steps one toe on the shores of Kinloch Hold there won't be enough healing magic in the world to put that pretty face of yours back together. Is that clear?" she had threatened low and ominously. He had been so taken back at the display that he simply nodded, the motion harried and quick. Later, when he thought upon it, he realized with shame that he had been about to return Galena's offer of trust and compassion with oppression and deceit. So while a part of him had railed at the decision to leave well enough alone, his moral compass remained, more or less true to course…the less being that he was far more interested in keeping Thais happy than he cared to admit.
And so they had passed the week, Thais healing, Galena brewing, and him hovering and being of very little help. He had been more than happy to assist in whatever way he could, be it gathering herbs or boiling linens, but as of late his talents had been used to dig the graves of those poor souls whose bodies just had not been strong enough to pull through. Even now, in this rare and peaceful moment the two had stolen, Cullen knew it would only be a matter of time before one more mound of soil dotted the landscape of the tiny village.
"Blast! This is such….shit!" Thais cried, flinging the book she had been perusing across the room. Raising an eyebrow at her outburst he quickly finished his ministrations along his jaw and turned to face her expectantly.
"Problem?" he inquired lightly and she glared at him before angrily stomping over to retrieve the tome.
"The problem is I have no bloody clue as to what I'm doing," she lamented. "I have used every trick I know, both magic and medicinal to heal these people I and it just isn't enough. And there is nothing is this stupid book to help me!"
"Well…why would there be?" he asked with a bit of a chuckle, crossing the room to crouch before her. "It's a book of blood magic…one would think it would have the opposite effect of what you're trying to accomplish."
"You religious types," she muttered, flipping through the pages once more, "it's all demons and downfalls, with you isn't it? Not every spell requires a compact with the underworld, you know. But…as much as it physically pains me to admit it, you're right; there isn't s a single ritual in any of the pages that could help me."
"Then I think it's time to leave well enough alone and rest for a bit," he offered.
"I can't," she groaned, rubbing her hands over her face in an effort to scrub her exhaustion from her mind. "I can hear it in her lungs, Cullen. Galena's chest rattles like she has a bloody rat caught in her ribs…they all do."
"What good are you as a healer if you can't even take care of your own well being?" he countered. "When's the last time you slept for more than an hour at a time? You're burning through too much mana and it's taking a toll. I can't even remember the last time you ate a decent meal."
"Not like I've had the time for a feast, what with being on the run and all," she groused, though he could see the resignation in her eyes and he smiled softly in triumph. Glancing down at her lap, it quickly faded and he gently pinched the book that lay there between his thumb and forefinger, brandishing it before him as if it were a dangerous serpent.
"Afraid blood magic is catching, Chantry Boy?" Thais remarked wryly through a gentle grin. Cullen huffed and flicked the book away before settling his gaze upon her once more.
"Even it were, I doubt that I would succumb," he stated primly and Thais rolled her eyes at his statement.
"Of course you wouldn't," she crooned, laying a hand upon his cheek with a patronizing pat, "you'd have to have to actually like mages for that to happen."
"I like mages just fine," he protested, hauling her to her feet before steering her towards the small pallet that lay in the corner of the room. It was little more than a worn feather mattress on slats of wood, but compared to sleeping on the ground it was heaven. Not that either one had really had the chance to utilize such a luxury, busy as they were with the plague.
"Could have fooled me," Thais sing songed before collapsing on the bed, eyes half lidded as sleep dragged at her.
"Just because I follow chantry law does not mean I abhor mages," he explained, producing an apple from their stores and holding it out in offering. "That sort of logic is post hoc ergo propter hoc and completely useless."
"You speak Tevinter?" Thais asked with a shocked laugh, fingers twining with his to take the proffered fruit.
"Surprised? That's a laugh coming from the woman who can speak Lugnassadah," he remarked wryly as he perched on the edge of the bed, near enough to converse but a safe and proper distance from the mage nonetheless. "At least most modern tongues have roots in Tevinter…yours is all misplaced consonants and silent G's."
At his gentle teasing Thais pushed herself up right to defend the dead, and if she had to admit it, useless language, but was immediately thrown back against the mattress by a firm and commanding shove from Cullen.
"Rest," he ordered, voice daring her to defy him.
"Ooh Chantry Boy, didn't know you had it in you. Though I think you really ought to buy a girl a tankard of ale before you throw her down on a bed."
"No flirting," he insisted, trying desperately to stifle his laughter and maintain a stern countenance, "only food and rest."
"Ruin all my fun," she pouted, though acquiesced and brought the apple to her mouth. Cullen could not help but watch in fascination as her petal pink lips parted, splaying out over the waxy skin. When a trail of juice escaped the soft flesh of the fruit her tongue darted out to catch it, lingering far too long for his comfort.
"Enjoying the show?" Thais asked sweetly when she caught him staring and he coughed to hide his blush. She chuckled softly before setting into the apple once more, eyes sizing him up in a fascinated sort of manner. "Well?" she prodded, "Out with it! What's it mean?"
"What's what mean?"
"Post hoc ergo propter hoc," she clarified, the words muffled and thick around bits of apple.
"It doesn't translate," he sighed. When she quirked an eyebrow at him, clearly thinking him a liar, he hastened to explain. "That is to say it does, but the words don't justify the meaning. It's a turn of phrase."
"I'm a bright girl, Cullen," she remarked dryly, picking at the apple's stem.
"After, therefore, because of it," he translated, and her blank stare had him smiling. "You're a bright girl, figure it out." He barely managed to avoid the apple core that whizzed by his head and he laughed brightly at her frustration. "It means that just because one action follows another the two are not inextricably linked."
"I still say your Templar indoctrination has colored your view on mages towards the shit-green end of the spectrum," she insisted as she stretched her arms high above her head. Her back arched at the action, torso lengthening and tensing and Cullen turned away.
"I like mages," he insisted softly, "I like you, don't I?"
"Yeah," she snorted, oblivious to his turmoil, "like me so much you're marching me towards everlasting imprisonment." Cullen had nothing to say that, and so remained silent, turning her words over in his mind. It was a topic that had nagged him ever since she had healed Galena their first day in the village, and it resurfaced when he saw her dedication to every patient that came before her. Thais was driven to help people, almost to a fault. Every instance in which he insisted she rest or take a few moments for herself was met with glares and dismissals; so determined was she to see just one more person, heal one more child. Cullen could see the toll it was taking on her, the stress and exhaustion etched in the shadows under her eyes, as bruise purple as the iris's they surrounded. Her robes, tattered as they were, hung just a bit loosely about her frame, the spoils of having refused regular meals for the past few days. Worst of all her voice, so musical and tempting when he had first met her, held the barest whisper of a scratch, and he knew that singing and chanting so many healing spells over and over were taking their due. Thais was sacrificing her own wellbeing for the sake of the dying, and Cullen could not help but admire her for it. Oh he thought she was downright foolish to do so, but the admiration remained nonetheless, as did his growing concern. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the worry the woman stirred in him, but he could not help but fret over her, setting his will against hers when he feared she had worked far beyond her means. Cullen thought her noble and caring, and Maker help him, stunning. This entire detour had him all tangled up, and an angry part of him laid the blame squarely at her feet. If only she had been predictable, a vile blood mage drunk on dark power; it would have been so easy. But as it was he had been completely unprepared for Thais Amell, a born blood mage who healed with such a tender and passionate heart, flirted like it was breathing, and had the most entrancing set of eyes he had ever seen.
Cullen knew that eventually this little sojourn of theirs would end and they would once again be headed for the circle, and he had no idea what would become of them. He was all too aware the outcome rested on his shoulders, and his sense of right warred with his faith as he sought to tangle out the mess he had found himself in.
"I wanted this, you know," Thais murmured sleepily, breaking through the dangerous thoughts that swirled about the Templar's mind. At his disbelieving stare she laughed quietly and shook her head. "Not the plague part, mind you…but the village. Some place quiet and out of the way. I'd pass my harrowing, prove what a good little mage I can be, and be sent off to some little nothing of a steading that had need of a healer. I'd live out my days setting bones, curing coughs, and delivering babies. It was my grand plan…guess that went to shit, eh?"
"It could still happen," Cullen remarked softly, though he knew it was a lie.
"Unless the entire Templar order has suffered a sudden change of heart I very much doubt it," she snorted. "I know the score, Chantry Boy. When this is over, when we're back in Kinloch Hold I know there will be no babies and bruises waiting for me in some idyllic pastoral setting…only stock rooms and sun brands."
"Thais-"
"I don't blame you, Cullen," she offered sweetly, head lolling to the side with a sad smile, "For all you are my captor, you aren't any freer than I am. We're both chained by the Chantry…you just happen to be ahead of me."
"Or perhaps I'm just really far behind," he murmured in defeat, echoing her words from their night in the forest. Thais laughed and closed her eyes, a smile on her soft lips.
"True enough Chantry Boy," she whispered as her breathing even out and she slipped away from consciousness. Cullen watched her for longer than he cared to admit, tension singing through his veins. He wanted so badly to fix this, though he knew their paths were set in stone. Ever so slowly, and with great hesitation, he glided a hand across her hair, secretly and dangerously offering comfort. It didn't matter that she would never know, oblivious in sleep as she was, for the action was less about her and more about his regret in being so utterly powerless that he could not change their fates.
A soft knock at the door had him jerking away from her, as if caught out at doing something wrong, and he hurried to answer it lest it wake his resting charge. When he cracked the door he was greeted with grim expressions and tear stained eyes. No words were spoken, though they did not need to be, Cullen knew that his moment of respite had ended; it was time to dig more graves. For the briefest of moments he considered waking Thais for she would want to hear the dire news, no matter how much it hurt. But when he glanced over his shoulder and saw her lying so peaceful and lovely on the small bed, a shadow of a smile on her lips, he could not bring himself to rouse her. He would let her dream of better days, for in the end death has all the time in the world, and Thais' was finite.