A/N: Okay I lied...NOW there will be two more installments after this. But as an apology I post two chapters tonight! Okay so I lied again...it's really one chapter split into two because it was so infernally long.

"Are we done here?" Cullen demanded, pushing himself up from the cot in an effort to break free of the healer's ministrations He had been holed up in one of the circle's many sick rooms, suffering the pokes and prods of the tower's healers for over an hour. His assurances that he was more or less fine fell on deaf ears and he was subjected to various spells and tinctures in an effort to erase any mark that marred his skin. It had been torture to feel the brush and tingle of the healing magic; the way it sunk beneath his skin, crawling and sliding along muscle and bone until it left it's indelible mark upon his very framework. The magic elicited too many memories, both good and ill, and twisted his mind until he was too tired to do more than be angry at his circumstances. The soothing tingle brought the image of Thais into stark relief; a tangible memory of when she had first healed him. Her hands splayed firm against his torso, the soft blue light of her power drawing the pain out and away, leaving him whole and utterly confused. But the invasion of it all, the lack of control, it reminded him all too readily of the last time Thais had deigned to use her magic upon him.

Cullen still could not wrap his mind around the fact that she had violated him. That moment in which she had laid that blood slicked hand upon his brow was forever burned into the recesses of his mind. He could still recall the feeling of something being pulled forcibly and violently from his body; a piece of himself so vital and undeniably him that for the few moments that followed he felt untethered; not of the world...not of anything. It had lasted but minutes, just enough to fell Maharette once and for all, but those minutes would last an eternity in his mind. He still could not believe that she had done it, that Thais would betray him in such a fashion. It did not matter than she had saved them all...it only mattered that she had so spectacularly ended them. And yet, despite his anger and fury he still loved her, still ached to touch her one more time and feel the satin of her skin beneath his calloused hands. Even if he could see past her damning actions, find it in him to forgive, it would not ease his torment. They were once again within the stone walls of Kinloch Hold and as such their stolen freedom had come to an end.

"I highly insist you rest, Sir Cullen," the healer, Wynne, admonished, a stern expression crossing her grandmotherly features.

"I assure you, I am quite well," he ground out, leaping up from the cot and hastily donning his armor. "Twas not my first battle and I only suffered minor wounds. All of which you have healed, so unless I am suffering from some mysterious malady, I trust we are done here."

"Be that as it may, I urge you-"

"Save your talents for one who needs them, Wynne," he huffed, crossing to the door. Before the healer could sputter a protest he crossed the threshold, leaving the stillness and oppressive feel of magic behind.

He stormed through the halls, a nameless need driving him to an unknown purpose. He was sick to death of being hovered over, treated as an invalid, and he needed to move, a restlessness gripping him. As he rounded the bend of the hallway that circled the classrooms of the third floor he was brought up short by an amused, yet all together displeased voice calling for his attention.

"All better, I take it?" Cullen stumbled to a halt, his head whipping around to seek out the questioner. When his eyes landed upon Anders leaning rakishly against the wall he felt a twinge of irritation spark through him.

"I don't have time for you," he said stiffly, averting his eyes and continuing along in his course.

"Make time," the mage insisted, pushing off the wall to bar his path. Cullen glared down at the man, his jaw twitching in warning. "I don't relish the idea of suffering your company any more than you do mine, templar, but as it is we are about to have an abrupt conversation."

"And what, pray tell, would this little tete-a-tete be comprised of?"

"You and I need to have a chat about a girl," Anders said with a finality, the tone brooking no refusal.

"I don't want to talk about Thais," Cullen insisted, trying to side step out of the mage's reach, "least of all with you."

"Well that's just tough, Cullen. You all may have had a grand old time messing about underneath each other's knickers, making moon eyes and dabbling with the demonic, but things are a mite different now. That...out there...it's not real. Kinloch Hold is real. And before the ax falls down on a woman who I've come to care a great deal for I'll have you tell me just what secrets you plan on divulging to your fellow wardens."

"You care about her?" Cullen growled, his jealousy and anger melding into a dangerous and less than stable stew of emotions.

"Oh look at the good little soldier, all puffed up and possessive I've got no designs on Thais, so kindly untwist your knickers and answer my question."

"I'll tell them...I'll...I don't know what I'll tell them," Cullen sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

"That doesn't exactly inspire confidence, Cullen," Anders muttered with a frown. "Look, I know you're in a position to do whatever you damn well please, but as a courtesy to the woman who risked life, limb, and eternal damnation to save your sorry hide, at least give me fair warning if the secrets you spill will put Thais under threat of tranquility."

"Why?"

"Because she deserves better," Anders replied fiercely. "Instead of being a sensible mage and leaving you and all your blasted brethren to a well deserved fate, she threw herself into the fray, slew a hell-bitch of a mage, and saved your sorry institution. Some thanks you'd give her by taking away her magic."

"She's a blood mage," Cullen replied tersely, his stomach in knots.

"Yes. I'm not quite thrilled about it myself. They haven't done much to paint the mages in the best of light, but I don't see Thais slicing veins and summoning demons, willy-nilly. What she is doesn't change what she's been. She's still a healer who very nearly rivals my talents, a devourer of stories and tales, and she's a woman who cared more about your life than her own freedom or happiness. So I'll ask you again...are you going to condemn her because you're feeling pissy over still being alive?"

"Do you know what she did?" Cullen hissed, leaning in close and fisting Anders' robes in his tightly clenched hands. "She deconstructed me. Siphoned off a part of me, and used the vilest of magics to do so."

"And I know her well enough to know that she'd do it again and again if it meant your ungrateful ass would still be drawing breath," Anders spat, shrugging out his grip. "Thais committed the ultimate sin, Cullen. She fell in love. And as such she thought of your well being above her own, knowing that she would lose the man to see the templar whole. If you cared for her at all you'd do well to remember that when you make your report to Gregoir."

Anders angrily brushed by him, a fire blazing in his eyes, and Cullen stared after him, his brain a foggy, scrambled mess of too many emotions. He knew the man was right, that Thais had acted out of a selfless need to save them all, but it did not change the methods she had chosen to get them there. But perhaps the reason he was feeling so betrayed had less to do with blood magic and more to do with the outcome that followed. There was nothing else Thais could have done that would have ended them more completely than her invasive spell, and perhaps that is what hurt the most. The fact that her solution claimed a casualty of not only Maharette but of their love as well. He could not help but imagine that there was another way, a different spell that could have turned the tide in their favor, all the while keeping their love intact. It was petulant and juvenile, but Cullen felt the pain of that more acutely than anything else.

Groaning in frustration he made to continue on along the hallway but was brought to a stop once more by yet another unwelcome visitor rounding the curve of the hallway. The familiar blond of Edmund's hair set his temper on edge, and he narrowed his eyes in warning, itching to lash out at the man who had tried to break the only woman he had ever loved.

"Cullen," Edmund called out good naturedly, "damn it's good to have you back. I heard about the scuffle. I'm a bit jealous that you're getting all the glory, we both know you're not half the swordsman I am."

"I'm a bit busy, Edmond," Cullen replied with great effort, his tone less than courteous "I must make my report to Gregoir."

"I'll walk with you," Edmund offered, easily falling into step beside him. "Rumors abound my good man. I'd rather hear the tale straight from your lips. A month or more spent with an apostate out in the world, culminating with a grand battle against a maleifcar? It's more excitement than we've had in years."

"She's not an apostate," Cullen ground out, "she came willingly."

"That's a first," Edmund snorted in derision as they passed a trio of apprentices hurrying by with downcast eyes. "Bitch has never been willing in her life."

"What did you say?" Cullen demanded softly, his body tense with imminent violence as he stumbled to a halt. Edmund stopped a few paces ahead, turning back with a lecherous grin upon his thin lips.

"Oh she plays the part," his one time friend explained, "all smiles and flirtatious glances. But the minute she's in a position to offer something the cock tease rabbits away."

"Have a care Edmund," Cullen warned, his temper fraying.

"You must have seen it, traveling with her for so long." Edmund continued on in a conspiratorial voice, oblivious to the dangerous undercurrents of the conversation. "The woman uses what the Maker gave her to seduce men into willing little slaves. And when we ask for something in return? What do we get but a pair of broken legs and a battered skull."

"You deserved all that and more," Cullen snarled, brushing briskly by the man. Edmund's hand came up hard around his bicep, forcing Cullen to stop in his tracks and spin about to face his fellow templar.

"Sounds like Thais has been telling stories again," the templar huffed, his eyes crinkled in displeasure. "You've been too long in the company of mages, my friend, if you're taking the word of a bitch like her over one of your brethren"

"You're not my friend, and you don't deserve to be called a brother," Cullen hissed, shrugging out of the man's grip. Edmund stiffened in anger, a harsh diatribe hovering on the tip of his tongue, but something in Cullen's face must have given him pause for instantly his whole countenance relaxed and a smug, satisfied smile crept over his lips.

"Ah, so that's the way of it," he sneered, "seems Cullen the pious isn't so chaste as he'd have us believe. How was the forbidden fruit? Sweet and juicy?"

"You want to stop talking, Edmund, now," Cullen threatened, advancing upon the man, his fists clenched tight against the desire to lash out.

"I bet it was," Edmund whispered, provoking and mocking all at once. "A girl doesn't play a man's desires so easily without knowing a thing or two. I bet the bitch was begging for it."

"Edmund-"

"Don't worry, Cullen, you won't have to kiss and tell. As soon as the slut is made tranquil, I'll get my turn...we all will."

Cullen exploded with a maddening sort of fury, roaring his anger out in one long, guttural howl. A fist struck out, connecting with Edmund's jaw, even as the other reached out to clamp upon the man's throat. He drove them back, slamming his enemy into the smooth polished stone of the wall, and the ensuing crack of bone against rock echoed around them with a triumphant resonance.

"If you ever touch her I will end you, Edmund," he spat, squeezing the man's windpipe with every syllable "Do you understand me? I will come in the dead of night and gut you. You will know pain the likes of which man can not fathom, and before it's done, before you draw your last breath I'll give you over to Thais' tender care...trust me when I say you have no idea what she's capable of."

"Look at you," Edmund sneered, each word an effort as his throat worked hard around the fingers that dug into his flesh. "You're her bloody champion, aren't you? She must have been quite the tumble. Tell me, Cullen, just how fast did the lady mage spread her dimpled knees?"

Snarling in rage, Cullen, struck out, raining blow after blow across the man's face until the flesh became pulpy and split. Blood speckled outwards with each concurrent punch, and Edmund made choking sounds of begging from between ruined teeth.

"Cullen, stop!" a frantic voice cried out, but he paid it no mind, the sound of bones shattering beneath his fists too seductive to ignore. Edmund's face became a study of violence unchained, the very structure of his bones swollen and deformed, blood burbling from lacerations that blossomed along the skin. It was only when a pair of delicate, feminine hands wrapped around his forearm, pleading him silently to quell his fury did he step back from the edge of anger and let Edmund crumple to the ground.

Thais, now clear in his vision, rushed to the fallen templar's side and hastily began to heal the damage his rage had wrought. As the blue glow vanished beneath Edmund's skin, filling and mending collapsed cheek bones, smoothing lacerations and erasing bruises, Cullen watched with a hollow sort of detachment. Every muscle in his body shook and his breath came in ragged, gasping pants, more from anger than exhaustion.

"What's gotten into you, Chantry Boy?"she demanded, throwing him a reproachful glare over her shoulder. "Forget going 'round the bend; you've jumped off the damn thing."

"I was defending your honor," he growled, unhappy to have incited her displeasure.

"That's a lark. I don't think you're allowed to defend such a thing when you've made it clear I lack it to begin with." Rolling her eyes she turned her attention back to Edmund and slapped him smarty across his newly healed face. "Wake up."

Edmund startled to awareness, eyes blinking rapidly and scrambled away from the woman who loomed over him. Thais quirked a grin in amused triumph and gracefully rose to her feet.

"Am I-"

"Dreaming? No, but how sweet of you to remember," she cooed, batting her lashes in a mockery of flirting.

"Oh how I'll miss that sense of spirit once you're tranquil," Edmund leered, blatantly letting his gaze travel over her body. "No matter, I'm sure you'll feel the same, sun brand or no."

"Careful, Edmund," Thais cautioned, even as she placed a warning hand against a newly enraged Cullen's chest, "I just got done healing that pretty face of yours, it would be a shame to let Cullen make a mess of it again." Edmund made to retort but was abruptly cut off by a commanding voice coming from just off to their right.

"You two," Gregoir, fully outfitted in the regalia of knight commander, ordered, "in my office. The sooner we get this blasted mess settled, the sooner I can get on to the next crisis. Bloody grey wardens keep asking for more recruits for their new encampment at Ostegar, and frankly I can only deal with one cock-up of a headache at a time."

"Grey wardens?" Thais replied with false interest, training her gaze upon Edmund once more. "My, but that's exciting. Come to think of it, Edmund, you would be quite the asset to the war effort. I'm sure the wardens could use your talents in their efforts to stop the darkspawn."

At the mention of the tainted creatures all the blood drained from Edmund's face and he took a stumble back, eyes wide in fear and remembrance Try as he might he, Cullen could not fathom why the mention of darkspawn would elicit such a strong reaction, but the malicious gleam in Thais' eyes gave him the barest of hints. His errant charge may have used the man to warn the templars of what was laying it wait, but she also took the opportunity to have a bit of fun at Edmund's expense. Cullen was unsure whether he wanted to know just what tortures she had set upon the man, but refrained from inquiring, lest she take it as sign that he was ready to forgive.

The two of them fell into step behind Gregoir, dutifully following the elder man to his private study, Cullen staring straight ahead all the while. He could feel Thais try for his attention, even being so bold as to reach out in an effort to grasp at his hand, but he quickly moved away, putting a proper and respectful distance between them. He was still so damned confused, unsure as to what he felt. One moment he was filled with a bitter sort of anger, despairing over Thais' actions, the next he was beating a man half to death for daring to besmirch her honor. Never did he think he could feel such diverging emotions towards another person, but Thais had ever been a walking contradiction