A quick round of thank yous to macramaegoldstar and Sherry205 for their kind comments - it's always nice to hear that I'm doing something right in making this story interesting enough for all my lovely readers - and followers - out there. Also a quick shout out to SNicole25 for chiming in from the start - you my dear lady are awesome and it's always fun to see what your reaction/comment will be.
And last but not least - welcome all my new followers!
I hope you enjoy my little scribbles down there and of course - a BIG thank you for deciding to join me on this journey through the whims of my imagination. Bon Voyage ;-)
"Isra?" She heard his voice gently call out to her as soon as she passed him on the hallway. Her name sounded a lot more exotic and poetic when he spoke it. "Wouldn't you rather…lie down?"
Isra turned around to look at him. Cullen never asked questions or talked all that much for that matter. The longest conversation that he initiated had happened this morning, when he woke her up. "Hm?" She didn't trust her own voice around him. For some unknown reason, she stuttered almost as much as she did with Anders. And then there were those dreams…It definitely made for an awkward circumstance, feeling as if she had already known him a lot more intimately, causing her to teeter on the brink of another blushing fit. Now that the alcoholic haze has warned off a bit, she felt more than a little embarrassed at their morning exchange and her dreams. A part of her felt more than a little dirty, for using him in her dreams so unbeknownst to him.
Cullen looked mildly embarrassed, rubbing his neck with one hand and desperately trying to avoid her gaze. "I-I mean. You…um. You look a little…sickly today. I mean you're still beautiful, but…" his face suddenly went through a myriad of transformations, ranging from outright panic, to a look of agonizing constipation. He cleared his throat quickly. "I mean you look fine. But a little…under the weather." At this point he was staring at his shoes with fierce determination. "Wouldn't itbebetterif… you laid down? Recuperate. I mean." He cleared his throat again, shifting his gaze towards a spot somewhere above her head.
Isra registered only one part of his speech that caused her blush to fire up immediately reflecting the warmth spreading through her veins all over her body. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"What?" He looked like a hare facing its predator. "N-no. I mean. Not today. No. You do…I-I have to go." A sudden look of relief crossed his features at that revelation and he marched down past her with determination, barely short of running.
Observing his retreat with open fascination Isra noticed Raja coming towards her, giving Cullen a short apologetic nod, which turned into confused gaping as she apparently noticed the expression on his face.
"What's his deal?"
Isra waved the question a way, uttering a few noncommittal sounds. Saved in the nick of time. Internally she cursed Raja's arrival for interrupting that little conversation, but she managed to hide it fairly well. At least she hoped so. "Nice to see you're still alive. How are you holding up?"
She noted that Raja looked fairly normal, dark circles under her eyes the only sign of her less than restful night. "Yeah… about that. I think I may need to apologise to the Runaway there." She commented quietly, nodding in the direction in which Cullen disappeared, looking apologetic. "I kinda…overslept a bit."
"A bit?" Isra gave a short laugh. "That's an understatement."
"Well it was a rough night, as I'm sure you are aware." She replied with a crooked grin. "But you're changing the subject. What did you do to him?"
"Do? Me? Why would I do anything to him? Besides, what could I do anyway? He was just…feeling …a bit tired. You know, because you left him alone in his duty and stuff. Protecting me is a stressful job...or…so I hear."
"Uh-huh." Raja seemed unconvinced. "Extremely. Fine I'll just ask him. Or I'll wait until I get you drunk again."
"That has to be illegal. Doesn't your Templar…code...or whatever have a passage along the lines of thou shall not imbibe innocent mages with copious amount of alcohol?"
"No." Raja answered with an ominous grin.
"Well not yet anyway." Isra replied sending her a dark look. "I'll have to talk to the Knight-Commander about remedying that situation."
Raja snorted loudly in reply. "Well good luck with that. In the meantime…where are we going?"
"I have … a few books to pick up." Isra quickly added, deciding against revealing her true intention.
"What, more? I thought you've already had a sizable collection of those."
Isra grinned widely. "Yes. More. I need a big enough stack to hide behind from you wicked Templars trying to get me drunk."
"Oh in that case you don't really need more. One of those monstrosities you've been hauling around lately is more than enough of a deterrent for me."
"Good to know." Isra made her best effort to offer her Templar guard the most nefarious smile she could manage. "Let's go then."
Raja sighed, rolling her eyes. "Let's. But I'm not helping you haul them about."
Isra offered her a sweet, and innocent smile before she started walking down the hallway. She was not really worried about the prospect of carrying books around, considering the fact that she made that task up. She was more worried about the prospect of approaching Anders with her request regarding her hangover if Karl wasn't there, or was unwilling to offer her any explanation into why he had decided to opt out of helping her.
- o . O . o -
To her grave disappointment, Karl indeed was not there when she arrived. None of his things were in fact. Puzzled, Isra sighed dejectedly deciding to go and look for Anders. Apparently there was no other way around it.
She didn't have to look very long he was sitting behind his desk in his own little room, arms crossed and eyes closed, brow furrowed in deep concentration.
"A -Anders?" Here we go, she thought to herself. The stutter had already made its appearance. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to take a step forward.
He offered her a tired smile as he slowly opened his eyes. "Isra."
Isra felt a tingle down her spine at the sound of her name. His voice made it sound magical. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I kind of need you right now."
"Oh?" His smile transformed into an amused grin that by all standards could be considered cheeky. "You need me?"
Even though it sounded less magical, this word had a greater impact on her that the last one, causing her face to erupt in flames as it turned bright red immediately. Isra cleared her throat again, cursing her telling blush for the thousandth time."Er…yes. But not like that. I-I'm feeling a little…sick."
"Oh? What is wrong?" His manner turned professional almost immediately as he crossed the room.
Isra offered him a sheepish smile. Him coming closer definitely had worsened her state, having the good old effect of making her feel as if she was going to burst into flames right there on the spot. "Er… a headache. And...some… queasiness."
"Well, you do look a bit off." He commented quietly as he observed her with interest. "But you don't really look that ill."
"Thank you." Isra decided to pretend it was a compliment. "I'm not really ill, just sick…in a hangover-y way…"she almost whispered the last one, her shade of red deepening with embarrassment.
"In a what way?" He seemed torn between incredulity and amusement.
"Do I really need to say it again?" Isra felt her nausea return with vengeance. She blamed the stress of speaking to him, the cheeky little gorgeous bastard. "C-can…can you help me? Or at least find me a bucket, before I decorate your floor with my lunch."
Anders bit his lip, suppressing his own amusement as he gently touched her forehead. She felt his magic flow over her, making her feel all tingly in its wake, erasing all traces of nausea or headache. Instead a new feeling asserted itself in her belly and that one felt a little too filled with a strange arousing excitement that plagued her in her dreams lately. "There. Better?"
Isra nodded slowly in reply. "…you could say that." She wasn't sure that arousal was preferable to nausea in this very moment.
"Is something bothering you still?"
Isra shook her head vehemently. "No. N-nothing. I'm fine. Completely fine." There was no way she'd ever reveal the type of her current ailment to him, knowing that it was caused by a sickness, more common known as a crush-on-the-healer.
"Good. Anything else?"
"Er…yes… do you know of Karl's whereabouts?"
Anders sighed, an uncharacteristic sense of gloom starting to permeate around him. "He's…he was …sent away I'm afraid. Apparently the Circle in Kirkwall is in great need of his … talents."
"What? Why?" Isra was surprised to say the least. "But he didn't say he was leaving. I still have his books! When is he coming back?"
Anders smiled bitterly, stoically accepting her onslaught of questions. "I can't tell you that, because I don't really know. I doubt he will ever come back, though. It sounded like a rather…permanent arrangement."
"But… Most of his stuff is still here." She noticed that his books were left untouched, lining up the bookcases surrounding his bed, when she went to look for him.
He nodded slowly. "They are."
"So…why? Why would they send him away? Why now? I doubt is as simple as the – oh we need his talents, pluck him out of there and send him over here, will you?" Isra finished in her best imitation of what she imagined the First Enchanter of Kirkwal sounded like. To be fair, she based most of her impression on Irving, considering the fact that she had never met that First Enchanter or even knew if he was a he or a she, for that matter.
Anders laughed, shaking his head. "It rarely is that simple. Especially when the Templars are involved."
"Templars?" Isra felt a cold shiver run down her spine, erasing the feel of warmth from a few moments ago. "Do you think it has anything to do with the…you know…the thing we talked about last time?"
"I wouldn't dismiss the possibility of that completely."
"You know something?"
He offered her a wry grin, clearly stating that he did. "I thought you said you don't want to get involved in all of this anymore."
Isra replied with a pointed look. "I have no intention in ferreting out the information or continuing with the investigation myself that is true. However, that doesn't mean I plan to keep myself in the dark. If you already know something, let me know. Please."
Anders smiled slightly. "Not here. Not now."
"Then where and when?"
His eyes flickered to something behind her, before quickly shifting back. "If you want his books, you can keep them. He said you can select anything from the pile next to his table." He motioned toward Karl's little partition, leaving Isra feeling flabbergasted at this abrupt change of subject, until she turned and saw Raja coming towards her.
"I'm sorry to interrupt. I've been called away – orders." The Templar said quietly with an apologetic smile when she got close enough to be heard. "I came to escort you back to your dormitory."
Isra sighed tiredly. Of course there had to be an interruption at the most inconvenient moment. "Sure." she replied, unenthusiastically. It appeared her earlier excuse about needing to pick up some books was of prophetic nature. "I have a few books to carry back. Can you help me?"
Raja sent her a dark glare as she squeezed her reply through her teeth. "Sure."
"Right." She decided to take all the books Karl has left her. There could be some useful information among them at least.
- o . O . o -
When Isra finally arrived back to her Dormitory, weighted down by her burden and a disgruntled Raja, trudging her own hefty amount of Karl's books in tow and complaining the whole way, she found her bed occupied by a prone, snoring figure of Mica.
Raja sent her a surprised look from under her own pile of books, one eyebrow raised in clear disapproval. "What's this then?" she commented quietly as she gently laid down her burden on the growing stack at the foot of Isra's bed.
"You'll note that he is on my bed, not in it." Isra replied pointedly, before the Templar could get the wrong idea. She let go of her books with a little less care as Raja did before her, causing them to hit the bottom stack with enough noise to wake up her sleeping guest with a start.
"Wuzat?!"
"Good Morning. Don't you have your own bed to sleep in?"
Mica slowly rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up. "I do?"
"I'm off." Raja commented quietly with a shake of her head, a disapproving look seemingly stuck to her face permanently.
Isra nodded. "Right. See you later then. And thank you for helping me with the books."
Raja grunted something under her breath, before replying. "Never again. I'm your guard, not your mule."
"I'll try to keep that in mind."
"Please do." She added with a wave in goodbye as she left, still muttering something about mages and their fetishes for big books loud enough for Isra to hear the gist of it.
Smiling Isra shake her head in amusement and turned her attention back to Mica. "So what's the reason behind this invasion of my mattress?"
"Oh you make it sound positively dirty."
Isra smiled slightly in reply, noticing he seemed unusually haggard. "I try. You look awful by the way."
Mica offered her a tired smile. "Thank you. I feel awful." He stifled back a yawn and slowly stood up. "I haven't managed to get any sleep yet. Unless you count this…" he motioned towards her bed.
"And what has been keeping you up all this time?"
He sighed deeply, stretching his back as if he were an old man. The effect would be comical, if not for his sombre mood. "I have news."
Isra's ears prickled at this. "Oh? What kind of news?"
"The kind involving our tin friends." He picked up one of Karl's books from the stack Isra and Raja had just created and started moving towards the small tables that lined one end of the dormitory, indicating fto her to follow him. "I don't suppose you have anything that could help me stay awake a bit longer, do you? Considering the fact that you look suspiciously well, even though you drank nearly as much as I did…"
"You should have seen me an hour ago." Isra said with a wry smile. "Anders." She added after she had seen his sceptical expression.
"Oh? Last time I heard, you were unable to talk to him in full sentences without stuttering, blushing or running away."
"Oh, Ha. Ha. I'll have you know…I got a bit better at it…I didn't run away at least." She added quietly, causing him to chuckle.
"I'm almost impressed."
They reached a table that was the furthest away from the rest and in a fairly isolated spot.
Mica plopped down on the nearest chair with a deep sigh. "Let's get this over with, before I fall asleep on this table."
"Would you at least like some water?" He looked downright terrible.
"No. I'll survive." He opened the book in front of them, apparently intending to use it as a cover in an attempt to at least give off an appearance of studying. "Right. After I returned from our late night outing made of bad decisions – remind me to never touch that sweet, chocolatey thing ever again. I mean it." He grimaced at the memory, clearly feeling as sick as she was a couple of hours ago. "Never again. So… after…well I was on my way back and I heard a scuffle. Drunk as I was, it was a miracle I could still stand or sneak about or think clearly for that matter…" He shook his head at the memory. "Anyway I immediately hid behind the nearest statue and it turned out it was just in time, because lo-and behold three Templars came blundering down the hallway, right past me. Now let me just say that this trio looked quite sinister. You don't usually see them prancing about in that number in the middle of the night all…sneaky and stuff."
"No. You usually don't." Isra commented quietly, remembering her first meeting with Cullen.
"So. There I was. There they were. As soon as they were past me and far away for me to risk sticking my neck out from my cover, I suddenly noticed a mage, shuffling not too far behind them. Just like that. In the middle of the night and in the middle of the hallway, all relaxed and stuff. Like everything was normal."
"Did you recognise him?"
"It was a her. And no. I didn't. But her robe was an enchanter's robe. And she appeared to be quite tall. It was too dark to really make out anything else." Mica sighed, rubbing his forehead in concentration. "And she had her hood on, so I couldn't see anything."
"So you see this Enchanter, and she was following the Templars? She could have been just walking along." Enchanters and Senior Enchanters were one of the few denizens of the Tower that could walk about its premises in the middle of the night. It was still a highly rare occurrence from what Isra had heard or seen when sneaking about at night, but it was known to happen.
"Not following them as in following…them. You know? Not sneaking behind them or anything. More like…walking behind them."
"You're awfully eloquent today." Isra commented with a wry smile, earning a narrow look of annoyance from him.
"I'd like to see you talk so…eloquently after being awake since yesterday morning and hungover."
Isra smiled slightly. She knew he was right. If the places were reversed, she'd probably be speaking in monosyllables by now and not because of being hungover, but because of the lack of sleep. She needed copious amount of it to function properly. "Sorry. Do go on."
"Right. So after she moves past me I get out of my cover and head down the hallway in the opposite direction. I was drunk and I really wasn't in any condition to follow them about to see what they were up to." Mica added with an apologetic shrug. "All in all, I kind of regret it now. Anyway, I go down this hallway and a couple of moments later I come upon a small elven girl, sitting by the side of the hallway, looking all dazed and dishevelled and completely unresponsive, eyes open wide and staring somewhere in front of her."
Isra felt her skin prickle at this. "Oh no. No."
Mica sighed heavily. "She didn't seem to be hurt and thankfully I sobered up a bit by that time, so I managed to rouse up enough to get her up and help her get back to her dormitory. She didn't say much, except to thank me in the end, but by that time I already knew who she was. I recognised her as one of the girls Katara used to hang out with."
Isra nodded quickly. Katara came from the same alienage as Silani. They were related in some way or another, but for some reason Silani never liked to talk about it. "Right. So did you manage to get anything else out of the girl? About what had happened?"
Mica frowned, slowly shaking his head. "No." he replied quietly. "I'll try that later. I didn't want to bother her about it so soon after…it happened." He rubbed his eyes again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I couldn't really sleep after that. So…I decided to go to the Cove. Clear my head and all. I needed to think. And while I was there…" He pulled out a small piece of paper, crumpled into a small ball. "…I found this."As he unwrapped it gently a pendant fell out that made Isra's skin crawl. A sword of mercy. Templars received these after they passed their vigil and were initiated into the order.
Mica slowly turned it around. There was a small inscription on the back.
"Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just." Isra read quietly. It was the last verse from the Canticle of Benedictions. Under it was a smaller inscription, containing what appeared to be the date this particular Templar has completed his test and a name. "Whitaker." She looked up at her friend only to see him staring back at the cross, with a certain amount of distaste. "Do you recognise this name?"
Mica shook his head. "No. But I recognise this." He showed her the unfolded piece of paper he was still clutching in his hand this whole time. A small "S" was scrawled on the inside in handwriting that Isra could have recognised absolutely anywhere, making her hairs prickle on the back of her neck. It was Silani's.
