Hukomuyo, I hope this one takes you longer. :)

A/N: A little angsty, yes I know. Bronwynn and I went around and around on this but she insisted this was how she wanted to deal with this issue.

It's going to get to where ya'll are wanting it to go, I promise.

Disclaimer:I own nothing of DA trilogy it's all Bioware and EAGames

Chapter 21

Bronwynn blinked as her senses returned. He had stopped kissing her; and although most of her thought that was a terrible thing; the thinking part knew it was for the best.

"Don't make that sound, love," he groaned as he stepped away. She gave an ironic chuckle as she reluctantly released him.

"Thank you," she said softly. He gave her his crooked grin and her heart turned over.

"Don't misunderstand, my love. I want more," he said. She could hear the desire in his voice, could see it in his now ocean blue eyes. She felt her own desire spike with the knowledge. She laughed again.

"And since I have never been able to tell you no, you stop?" she said; a slight bitterness invading the question. He laughed at that.

"I have always wanted you to want my touch; I hope I never gave you cause to think you had no choice," he retorted acerbically. She gasped and her eyes widened in shock.

"I-I'm sorry. Of course I never felt that way. Andraste, Cullen, you even asked me if I wanted it when you were inside me the last time," she said, making him blush. "Why did you stop?" she asked, and although she wanted to step closer, she didn't.

"Because I know how badly I want you; and how much I hurt you," he said somberly. She nodded slowly to show she was listening. "I can't just pretend I didn't hurt you, my love," he continued. She raised her chin and straightened her shoulders.

"I appreciate that sentiment," she said with composure that cracked very quickly. "But I don't think I can let you go yet," her voice was just above a whisper. "I am not asking you to shirk your duties, vhenan. I just need you to stay with me until dawn," her voice broke on the last word and he pulled her to him to kiss her forehead.

"For you, my love, I would shirk my duty," he said; she gasped at his sincerity.

Cullen quickly removed his armor; leaving on only his small clothes while she removed her robe to just her small clothes. When they met in the middle of the bed they both sighed in relief.

Their bodies relaxed into slumber; resting as neither had in over a year.

Isabella slid out of Hawke's very large bed and began to dress. This was becoming a habit. She wanted to be in his bed more and more often. He never asked, he always let her decide. He never tried to make her stay when she left; and for some reason that upset her.

Isabella didn't want to be tied to anyone, for any reason; especially not for love. Love was an excuse for owning; for controlling another. She turned hazel eyes to the slumbering man, he had simply stretched out when she had exited the bed. His black hair was always just too long, just in his eyes. He always looked as if he had just gotten out of bed. Isabella wanted him to open his eyes and look at her; she loved the color of them. An amber so light they appeared to be gold.

She wanted him to smile at her; his lips would spread across his face, opening up just a little to show straight white teeth, and he smiled so rarely it was a treasure. He smiled for her, a true smile everytime he looked at her.

But he asked for nothing. Why?

Not that she wanted him to ask her for more; she had made that plain. He was the port she wanted for now, but that would change.

Wouldn't it? He growled in his sleep and rolled onto his back, the covers sliding off his nude form as he did. She drank in the site of his muscled body like a starving woman. He had brought her to orgasm three times in two hours and still she wanted more of him.

"Keep staring, Bella," he said. His voice was heavy with sleep and desire. Her hazel eyes met his golden ones, she raised her raven brows in a challenge. Her heart flipped over when he smiled at her; a promise of pleasure.

Isabella removed what clothes she had put back on and crawled back into his bed.

"Can you keep that promise?" she asked with as much seduction as she could in her voice. He didn't answer with words.

Bethany Hawke and Jean Marc Stroud were deep in conversation as they entered the manor in Hightown the following morning. They discovered that Bronwynn had not risen for the day yet; and as it was just shy of mid-morning they were concerned.

"Milady Warden is sleeping quite soundly, Serra," the butler informed Stroud when he expressed concern and started to head upstairs to her room. There was something about the way he said it that made Stroud stop and look at the older elf.

"Soundly you say?" he asked. The elf nodded sagely. "She doesn't sleep soundly," Stroud informed the man. This had been her first night alone in the house; the servants may not have noticed her habits as of yet.

"Normally, Serra, you are correct, however last night she managed to be asleep by midnight and hasn't stirred. I felt it best to keep the staff occupied elsewhere so she could rest as much as possible; given her trouble," the elf replied with no small amount of assertiveness.

"Are you telling me to leave her be?" Stroud asked with surprise.

"Of course not, Serra. I am informing you of the circumstances; I know you care for your subordinate's health," the butler answered, he even managed not to sneer at the senior Warden. At this Bethany let out a tinkling laugh.

"Leave it be, Stroud, let her sleep. She truly does need it," the mage said with humor. Stroud sighed and nodded his agreement.

Neither noticed the disheveled blond Templar leaving the courtyard, or saw him hesitate and look back at the room on the second floor. He did not hurry as he left; and the look on his face was one of awe and regret.

Bronwynn heard Stroud and Bethany in the hall as they decided to let her sleep and for that she was grateful. Cullen had woken her with a kiss. It was so full of passion she had thought he would actually make love to her; but he hadn't. He had simply kissed her.

She had felt herself floating from that kiss, her mind clouded with such passion as she hadn't felt in so long it frightened her. When he sighed and pulled away from her she had moaned in denial.

"Don't make that sound, my love," he had groaned again, this time with passion filled laughter.

"Then stop kissing me like that," she had retorted smartly. Her reward a crooked grin. Her favorite look on his face.

"Never," he had whispered, almost too low for her to hear so she had ignored it.

"It's way past dawn," she had said instead. He grinned at her with chagrin.

"I don't care," he had answered. "I needed you," he continued. "Right where you were last night," her own lips spread into a contented smile.

"Will you come back?" she asked shyly. She wasn't sure where she stood with her Templar any longer; she knew what she wanted though.

"I-" he stopped and looked at her. "I think we should figure out what we need to say to one another," he finally replied. Her stomach began to knot.

"I know I love you, my heart," he said when her brow began to furrow from the worry. "But can you honestly tell me that knowing I'm alive doesn't change how you feel about what happened?" he asked her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply before shaking her head.

"No, I can't," she replied. "I want to, though," she said with a small laugh.

"We have time," he said. There was still reverence in his voice, and she could even see some worship in his eyes and wondered if her eyes mirrored his.

"Yes, this time we do," she had said.

His leaving had been harder than she had thought it would be, but she had kept her tears to herself. It would do no good to keep him here from guilt; she had never wanted him to feel guilty for any argument they may have had.

Well, maybe this time he should.

"Damn!" she whispered as she realized that Alistair had known all along that her lover had been alive. He had told her he was dead on purpose. She frowned as another thought came to her.

Anders had known as well. The abominated rat bastard.

"Stroud!" she shouted as she grabbed her armor and began sliding it on. There was a fury in her voice that he had never heard before and he and Bethany ran up the stairs to her chambers. She was buckling her greeves on her legs as they stormed in.

"What?" he demanded, having drawn his weapon yet seeing no one in the room. She gave him a scathing look that threw him off. There was color in her cheeks; her green eyes were alive with ire and snapping with life. Something had changed; she was clearly no longer depressed.

"I want to know if that ex-warden Anders is from my old Circle," she demanded. She wasn't going to assume there were no other Wardens named Anders since it was a common thing to call those from the Anderfels. Stroud frowned at the question, he wasn't sure of the answer. Bethany was.

"He escaped the Circle of Fereldan seven times," Bethany said as if by rote; and Bronwynn narrowed her eyes and gave a satisfied smirk.

"Good," she said with malice. "Would you happen to know where the abomination is?" she asked with feigned politeness.

"Wait, how did you know he was an abomination?" Stroud asked her.

"We encourage any and all means of destroying a blight; except possession by and summoning of demons," she said to him with that false cheeriness. "Why else would he be an ex-Warden?" she asked him, the malice leaking through again.

"He was trying to help a friend," Bethany said with a compassion that marked her naivete and youth. Bronwynn smiled gently at her younger cousin.

"A spirit doesn't want to become a part of you; Bethany. A spirit friend doesn't desire anything more than your company, without being a part of you," she gave her friends a death's head grin as her ire began rising more. "He became possessed, he's an abomination," she said with glee. Stroud began to wonder where his friend and sister Warden had gone overnight.

"Bronwynn," Bethany said; and there was enough fear in her cousin's voice to penetrate the older mage's ire. "He speaks the truth when he says he only wanted to help his friend. A spirit of Justice," Bethany said. Bronwynn closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I have known spirits of Justice, Beth. If they ask to join you they are no longer Justice - they have become Vengeance. No human can be a host to a spirit. We have too many emotions, we are too raw, too wild!" she sighed.

"Anders was my friend in the Circle. One of the few I knew would not hurt me," she looked at Stroud with eyes full of questions. He sighed and closed his own.

"He was wilder than most mages. Clarel assigned him an ex-Templar as a partner," Bronwynn gave a bitter laugh at that. "Just after the attack on Amaranthine by the Darkspawn he began to show signs of restlessness," Stroud sighed in resignation.

"So Clarel, a mage, didn't trust a fellow mage because he wanted the freedom to come and go as the rest of the Wardens do?" Bethany asked with a cynicism that belied her young years. Stroud merely nodded.

Bethany and Bronwynn shook their heads.

"Fine, cousin; I'll talk to him first before I pass judgment," Bronwynn said as she and Bethany left the room. Stroud tried to stop them to find out what Bronwynn wanted with the ex-Warden; but she wouldn't answer.

It didn't take long for the girls to reach the clinic that Anders ran for the poor in Low Town. There were several people in the clinic waiting for the healer to get to them. Bronwynn had always known Anders was an extraordinary healer; his intuition for healing was beyond anyone she knew. She could see for herself that there were several children who were suffering the start of plague. Bethany, having trained under Bronwynn, could see it as well. The two of them began to work with the children who were ill; helping heal as many as they could. Anders acknowledged them, but made no move to speak to them until the clinic was clear. His few helpers left for the evening after having made sure there was food and drink for the three mages. He then turned to look at the two women with trepidation.

"I see you have recovered well, Bethany," he said to the dark haired mage first. Bethany gave him a small smile.

"You saved my life, and I am grateful," she said with only a small trace of sadness. Bronwynn was proud of her, she was working through her anger. Now Bronwynn had to work through hers; preferably without killing Anders.

"I'm glad Bronwynn was with them; she was the one who really saved you," he countered. Bronwynn snorted in derision. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. When his yew bark colored eyes met her emerald green one's he shrunk in on himself. She was angry; and he had a feeling he knew why.

"You're looking better than the last time I saw you," Anders tried to hedge with Bronwynn, she tsked as a muscle in her cheek flexed. He tried his most charming smile and she merely gave him an even more steely glare.

"You look angry with me, Bronwynn," he finally hedged.

"When did you leave the Tower for the last time Anders?" Bronwynn decided to ask; before she accused him of duplicity. He shivered.

"A few weeks before Uldred tried to take it over," he said; and the horror in his voice was real enough. Bronwynn looked at him with her aura sight; and saw the spirit that was entwined with his soul.

"How are you still a spirit?" she asked aloud, not really meaning to.

"I try to remember it's justice for mages I wanted; although it is getting harder," Anders answered, and Bronwynn sighed with regret.

"You invited it in?" she asked. He frowned at her.

"He was brought over from the fade by a demon who had possessed a blood mage an age ago," he said. "He ended up possessing the body of a fellow Warden. He's not a demon, he never was a demon, why should he have to play the demon?" Anders demanded; Bronwynn shook her head at her old friend.

"If he had completed his task and returned to the fade I would agree; he was not a demon," Bronwynn said quietly. Anders' face contorted into anger.

"He should have to suffer-" Anders started to shout, when the spirit inside him seemed to speak to him.

"He is no longer a spirit of Justice, Anders, you know this."

Anders looked at her helplessly. She could see he was torn, and that worried her more than anything.

"If it is still your friend, a spirit of Justice; then it will want to leave; to go back to the fade and not let you be harmed," her voice was implacable. Unbearably reasonable to his ears.

"If it does not want to leave, if you will not give up the power, Anders; you have become that which you once claimed to hate," again, she was calm and logical.

"I did not use blood-magic to summon him," he insisted. She shook her head.

"Yet still you are an abomination. Justice twisted becomes Vengeance. Did it offer you power for Justice for mages?" she asked him cannily. He swallowed and nodded involuntarily.

"I am still in control," he said and she laughed sadly.

"No, you aren't" she replied. Bethany put her hand on Bronwynn's shoulder as Anders seemed to fold in upon himself.

"When you kill an innocent, Anders; my friend, I'll deal with you," she said. His tawny eyes were bleak with resignation when he looked at her.

"What makes you think I will?" he asked, and she heard the demon in his voice.

"You have always wanted freedom for mages; and you have always been willing to fight to get it," Bronwynn answered.

"Leave Kirkwall," Bethany said to the healer, he turned silver brown eyes to her; that she didn't shiver said much for her strength. "It may be the only thing that saves you," she finished.

Justice looked at the women before him and felt his ire rising. How dare they threaten him?

He looked at the older woman with red hair and saw, beyond her own pain and anger she felt compassion for this man. She did care about his well being; and she would do whatever it took to save him, even from himself.

Justice receded and allowed Anders full control again; perhaps he did need to listen to the mage more; the mage did counsel patience.

"Why did you want to know about the Circle?" Anders asked in an attempt to change the subject. He was relieved when Bronwynn let him.

"Alistair sent word to Blackwall and myself that all the Templars in the Tower were dead," she said and his eyes widened in shock and horror. He reached out and took her hand; squeezing it gently.

"I had no idea you had heard that, I would have sent word if I had!" He exclaimed. "I would never have let you suffer; him, yes but never you!" He was so earnest, she believed him.

"I am grateful you like me enough for that," she said with humor. He gave her his charming grin again and this time she relented and kissed his cheek. "Please don't make me regret not fixing this," she whispered to her friend.

"I promise to try," he answered with sincerity. She nodded her acceptance of the promise.

After leaving the healer Bronwynn and her cousin made their way back to the manor; Bethany seeming to want to stop somewhere but never asking.

"We can go see your mother and brother," Bronwynn said as they entered the Warden manor. Bethany shook her head.

"It will hurt too much," she replied. "So, who is he?" Bethany asked with a smile.

"My lover, from before."

"Before what?" Bronwynn laughed.

"Before when, before the blight; before I was a Warden," she sat down and looked out a widow. "My Templar," she whispered.

"You thought he was dead?" Bethany asked curiously. Bronwynn nodded slowly.

"Alistair had reported they were all dead; I was in deep shock," she turned to look at her cousin. "I suppose I could always send him a scathing letter, eh?" Bronwynn commented with humor. Her anger was fading as she thought about the situation.

"Well, he is the King now," Bethany said with a laugh. Bronwynn grinned and then laughed herself when her stomach growled.

"To the kitchen!" They laughingly cried in unison.

Several hours passed and Bronwynn had taken the time to think. Cullen had spent most of it working through several layers of subterfuge by Templars and Mages alike. So many of the mages in this Circle seemed to be maleficarum; yet he could see the abuses by some of the Templars. Still; he couldn't fault them entirely.

He kept his mind on his work, setting up patrols and guard rotations; assigning Templars to rituals and Harrowings.

Not that there were that many in this Circle. Orsino didn't have the power most First Enchanter's did; Meredith decided who was given the chance to advance.

He heard rumblings of issues in town with the Qunari. There were so many who were afraid of what they would do; Maker forbid anyone attempt to work with them and help them get out of Kirkwall.

He didn't allow himself to think of his mage until nightfall. Then his mind would play nothing but memories of her.

She was alive; alive and herself! His heart rejoiced until he remembered what she had done. Yes, he had hurt her; but to risk- he sighed and shook his head. What was he truly angry about?

The fact that she had risked the vegetative state at all; or was he still jealous of what he perceived as a sexual relationship with the Warden? As he thought about the way the Warden and been so intimate with his nearness he realized it wasn't just anger, but jealousy as well. Yet both she and the Warden had denied there had been anything between them. Did he have a right to still be jealous?

He laughed softly at himself. No, he had never had a reason to be jealous; but he had loved the woman beyond reason.

'Be honest with yourself, fool' he thought. 'Had you loved her beyond reason you would have left the Order for her.' Yet he hadn't; and although he had entertained the thought it had been only to decry it as impossible. She had made it clear she had known this; and hadn't expected any less.

Now he wondered; would she have returned to the Circle for him? A little voice in his head whispered yes. Now he began frowning and felt anger rising again. Yes, she would have given up her freedom to be with him. Not because she loved him more than he loved her; because she had been that dependent on him.

Cullen grabbed the volume of potions and stormed from his room, pausing only long enough to strap a sword on his leather clad hips. His face was thunder and none of the Templars on duty questioned him as she left the Gallows for the second night in a row.

He made his way to Hightown with quick strides, anger evident in his every step as he retraced his steps from her home earlier that morning.

Bronwynn was laughing softly as Stroud finished recounting a misadventure during his training as a Chevalier when the pounding on the door startled the group.

She and Stroud were the first to the hall when the butler answered the door; she recognized Cullen's clipped tones and stepped further into the hall.

"Milady is entertaining," the butler was saying to the irate Templar. As Bronwynn stepped behind the butler, she could see he was wearing leather armor instead of his heavy plate. His blue eyes locked on her when she appeared behind the butler.

"Well she can entertain me," was his growled response. Bronwynn's eyes widened in surprise.

"Adan, please show the Knight Captain to my sitting room," she said softly to the elf.

Cullen followed the elf, glaring at the men that stood behind his mage as he did so. Bronwynn sighed and rolled her eyes; she had a feeling this was about to get extremely awkward. She turned to look at her dinner companions and saw Blackwall grinning at her. She could see a relief in his eyes and she smiled back at him; recognizing he was happy for her.

"I think, Sister, we will take our leave and head to the Hanged Man," he said before anyone else could speak up. She nodded her thanks and headed up to her rooms, chuckling when she heard Stroud demanding an explanation and Blackwall answering it really wasn't any of his business. They were clearly friends.

She passed the elf who asked if she would like anything and she asked for refreshments, he nodded quite seriously. She didn't see the concern in his eyes as he concealed it until she had passed him. The servants all liked the young lady as she was never rude to them and often tried to make their jobs easier. He hoped the Templar wasn't going to harm the mage.

Bronwynn entered her room and found the Templar standing by her desk flipping through one of her notebooks. She took the chance to look him over, taking in the changes to his appearance. He was thinner than he should be, his skin had a waxy look; as if he wasn't sleeping any better than she.

"You're angry?" she asked; and when he turned to face her she could see the rage clearly. He held out another book, she could see it was one of hers.

"You left this in our chambers," he said with very controlled precision; keeping his voice normal by sheer dint of will. She frowned but stepped forward to see what book it was.

She sighed as she realized what she had done. How she could have forgotten to take it … she heard the compassion spirit whisper an apology and closed her eyes. It had meant well.

"I am sorry I left it behind," she said, although it came out woodenly.

"I thought you had overdosed on the potion," he said; again in clipped tones.

"What potion?" she asked him warily.

"The one to control your emotions," he said, and again his words were precise and clipped; barely controlled rage. She closed her eyes and put the book down on a nearby table.

"Why did you think I had overdosed?" she asked, fearing she knew the answer.

"You, who are so careful and efficient when when making potions; left a mess." She shuddered. She hadn't been the one in control; the compassion spirit had taken over long enough to make that potion. She had let it because she wanted to stop being.

"I would say I'm sorry for frightening you," she said, opening her green eyes to look at him. "But I have never lied to you and I won't start now," she sighed softly when he just blinked at her. She then quickly cast a silencing charm over the room as his voice began to echo around her.

Bronwynn had a feeling he didn't even know what he was saying, although he kept his hands at his sides.

"You left me!" he finally said, no longer shouting but just as emphatic. "You left me and didn't even try to fight to make me listen!"

Cullen was breathing hard, as if he'd run twenty miles in heavy armor. He hadn't known he'd had all that bottled up inside him; didn't even know what all he had said. He knew, now however; that the part that bothered him was the last part.

He looked at her, standing there listening to him; letting him heap it all on her head. He saw the stubborn lift of her chin; could see the defiance in her green eyes.

"No, I didn't." she answered calmly. "Why should I have?" His head jerked as if she'd slapped him.

"You say you hadn't slept with the Warden…" he started to say and she laughed.

"No, you don't get to use that. You knew I hadn't. You knew I wouldn't have done that to you," She stepped forward, her chin lifted and firmed her green eyes flashing jade fire at him. "You knew how much I depended on you for everything," he started to shake his head and she went on, implacably.

"You knew then I hadn't slept with him. You knew and you just wanted to hurt me," she said with a venom she hadn't known she felt. "I told you, you were wrong. I denied it; you didn't want to hear it!" she stepped back from him and met his glare with her own.

"You wanted to let me go; it was obvious when you called me a liar," her voice was steel and part of him knew it was his doing. "Why should I have fought to make you listen when you knew?" she asked him.

Cullen wanted to answer but couldn't. She was right, he had known then and knew even now. The conversation was imprinted in his brain, part of his nightmares.

"I broke that day; vhenan. The only reason I did not take my life when you locked the door was my promise to you," she said softly. "You were my whole world; my everything. I'm not just being dramatic, it's the truth," she nodded towards the outside.

"You were jealous of Blackwall and I being close? He is a friend to me. Someone who reminds me enough of you I feel safe with him, and had you actually wanted to hear what I had to say that day you would have heard that. We are friends, not lovers," she stopped talking, waiting for him to respond.

"Did you ever," he swallowed guiltily. "Did you ever let him touch you?" he asked with dread, her answer confirming his one of his fears.

"Yes," she simply. He moved so he was sitting in the chair by her desk.

"Then I have lost you," he said softly.

"You're not hearing me, again." Bronwynn said in exasperation. He looked up at her and gave her a pained frown. "We are friends, not lovers," she repeated. "The day I got the message you had died I," she faltered. "I don't remember much after reading that message. Gordon tells me he spent hours trying to get me to stop being hysterical," she sat on another chair and looked at the man she still loved.

"Why were you hysterical?" he asked in confusion.

"My world was gone," she said. "Yes, I made the potion and even used it; as I directed it to be used. I couldn't function when you said we were done." Her eyes became unfocused as she thought about hearing he was dead.

"It was different when you were alive. Alive I could go on because the air was still worth breathing," she refocused on him and smiled ruefully. "It took time but I was dealing with the pain," he nodded to show he understood and was listening.

"With you dead," she shuddered. "Maker, Cullen, I had nothing. No reason to go on. That was how much I needed you," she shook her head. "Gordon finally managed to make me hear him say you wouldn't want me to give up. After that I managed; barely, to hang on to sanity."

Cullen saw her eyes echo the bleakness she had felt until the day before.

"Yes, vhenan; I left you. I left you because it was what you wanted me to do. Whether you meant it for my own good or because you wanted to hurt me stopped mattering when I thought you were dead," she shook her head and sighed.

"I love you," she said. The statement filled Cullen to bursting.

"I love you and I will not ask for anything of you. Knowing you live is enough for me to go on. As dramatic as that is; it is the truth," she finished.