I left the Grey Warden's quarters more confused than enlightened, still swimming with the thoughts of darkspawn and all the nonsense surrounding it. What did I know of a blight? Much less of the outside world. My world was within these walls, a cage as well as the only fortress standing between me and whatever was out there. By the sound of it, the outside wasn't as great as I had (and many others) imagined. It made me want to go outside less, to be honest.

Duncan the Grey.

He was a strange man. I couldn't decide if it was arrogance or strength he so easily flaunted; I had never seen him in combat, so I might never know. Still, the curiosity compelled me. I didn't know what to make of him-tall, proud human creature that he was. I did not feel threatened by him, yet I had the creeping sensation that I should be.

I was so busy in my thoughts I barely noticed Cullen standing right in front of me.

"O-Oh hello.. I-Isthalla!" I blinked and looked up to find him looming over me with a dumb grin on his face. I frowned.

"Hello..?" I said back. I was busy; uninterested in whatever stuttery conversation he was looking to have with me (which would be none, I assure you). He fidgeted with his armor like a bashful five year old and glanced at the floor. I waited.

"H-How-I mean… are you-?" he stumbled over himself, well-remembered to my anger over his constant concern of my health. I am fine, thank you. I always am. Quit asking.

Though I had to hand it to the poor boy, he was trying at least. I would rather talk to him than any other templar, to be honest (though that wasn't saying much). He fell short, lost in his own comprehension of what might be the best thing to say to me. His brow creased in a slightly attractive way, then border-lined on appearing just plain upsetting. I mirrored the expression.

"Is everything all right?" he breathed out all at once.

Wow.

A full sentence without pausing. I felt impressed.

A sympathetic, withering smile flashed across my face as I turned to fully face him. What else did I have to do for the moment? I didn't much feel like taunting the poor thing; too much energy to waste on that. Conversation.. Maybe? Could we try that sort of thing?

"Well I suppose.." I started, my brow still furrowed lightly as I tried to work out what sort of expression he was going for. I gave up on 'unintentionally stupid looking' and decided to move on. Cullen was not a strong conversation starter, which meant he was trying his very best to put on his big boy voice. I had to give him some due credit.

"O-Oh.. okay," he said, sounding crestfallen. I smirked. Was he expecting to hear my life had all gone to hell? That I might secretly be an abomination about to tear everyone limb from limb? Actually.. that would be much more interesting. I tilted my head to the side and crossed my arms.

"Cullen what do you know about all this?" I tempted myself; dare I ask? Maybe I could get him to slip up for once and tell me. I put on my best pleading expression I could, and saw him effectively recoil against it.

He really needed to get out more..

"A-About what?"

Trying to play dumb, then? I knew better.

"You know exactly what-" I lowered my voice and tone, demanding his cooperation. He straightened. "The templars. Greagoir. That Duncan fellow. What is all this nonsense about?" Cullen looked more confused than ever as he shook his head, bewildered, and dropped his arms at his sides.

"I-I don't know what you mean, Isthalla.." he replied with an empty shrug. He was unfortunately being honest.

Damn.

"They've been babysitting me all hours of the day, guarding my every move!" I tried. "Greagoir called me an abomination just yesterday, and now suddenly everyone is entirely absent as if it never happened?" I shook my head, incredulous.

"What happened to the guards? The threats? What changed?" I demanded. Cullen looked at me with a gawkish, surprised stare.

"He called you an abomination?" he demanded. I heard anger in his voice. I blinked and took a step back while unfolding my arms in surprise.

"Damned if I know," I said, shrugging, "the man never did like me. I dunno, I suppose he's too paranoid, old bastard…" I trailed off. I tried my best to recall the memory, back to the grave sound of Irving's voice and to Greagoir's rage. Nothing made sense, and trying to find answers seemed to result in more confusion. I found my eyes staring at Cullen's shifting armored boots, and looked up.

"Why haven't they been sending guards anymore?" I asked plainly. I locked my accusing eyes on Cullen. If anyone should know about it, he would. He tended to be around me more than any other templars; he should know if any other stalkers were to be stationed in my wake. This seemed to wake him up a bit, and with widened eyes he straightened again and swallowed something in his throat.

"I-I haven't I mean-heard anything," he shook his head vigorously. "No one has been told to watch you, a-aside from me of course." He turned a little red in the face, appearing as if he'd said too much, then blinked.

"You don't think that counts, do you?"

"I don't know," I sighed, frustrated. I tapped a finger to my lips then decisively nodded. "Walk with me." Walking helped me clear my thoughts. Cullen obeyed, following behind me as a happy dog does for it's master. I smiled when my back was turned.

We walked in silence for a few minutes; I spent that time thinking, occasionally turning to make sure Cullen was following. He walked shoulder-to-shoulder with me, a rather new development considering the man never got within a foot of me since the Chantry incident six months prior. Certainly was a skittish human, for a templar.

Now he seemed more at ease, nearly brushing his armor to my shoulder as we strolled through the hallway towards the first floor. My attention began to shift from thoughts of abominations and darkspawn to the fact how often he truly was around me. The man practically shadowed me, though I'd never stopped to think about it. In the library, the hallways, even outside our dormitories-I tended to run into him more than any other templar. 'Run into' being the quite relevant term in that description-if I didn't know any better I might say it was on purpose.

I glanced up, briefly, but long enough to catch a fragment of his expression. He stared straight ahead-strict, yet calm-watching passerbys with alert features. We walked the tower at least once a week together, if not more depending on my mood; somehow it had become an unofficial meeting where we would sometimes converse. I usually spent it in silence, contemplating things whilst he followed a good few feet behind. Walking beside me, however-I admit I felt slightly distracted.

"Does this make your job easier?" I piped up after walking in silence for ten minutes. He straightened entirely too much in his armor and came to a dead halt to face me, his eyes wide.

"W-What do you mean?" I blinked up at him, then turned and stared at the hallway.

"Befriending mage-kind so you can justify their death.." I trailed off. A bit of hurt entered my voice at the end of the phrase, feeling slight betrayal that it could be the reason he'd chosen to do so. A templar could easily take advantage of any mage in that manner, whether it be for "justified" purposes or something crueler. I'd somehow believed Cullen was exempt from that horrible truth..

He seemed to relax at my response-I still wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. I turned back to him, pleading and anxious, and frowned sadly.

"That seems like a cruel thing to do to a person, mage or no-" I glanced away, unable to look at someone and try to be sincere at the same time. "Even I don't condone twisting another person's humanity against them." Cullen looked at me, shocked.

"Really? Well that surprises me," he spoke quite seriously. I paused and stared long and hard at him, then finally glared and slapped him on the arm-a mistake considering he wore armor.

"Yo-OW! You cruel bastard!" I yelped as he let out a warm, quiet chuckle. My contorted expression instantly relaxed as I realized something-it was the first time I'd ever heard him laugh. I stared stupidly at him for too-long a moment, then shook my head and straightened back up.

"That wasn't funny.." I mumbled while crossing my arms and hunkering down into my own body. I could feel my ears falling down-a remarkably unfortunate trait of my faceless family's, I suppose, that my ears could give away my embarrassment. I turned to find a red-faced smile still widened on Cullen's face, and decided I couldn't be angry at him. Actually, I was surprised to find it made him look quite handsome. Laugh lines stretched on the corners of his lips, and his eyes looked less hardened. He looked kinder, allowing the strictness to-briefly-leave his features. He looked like a living being, for once.

"You're still a miserable old bastard, you bastard-" I grumbled while turning to stare at a wall instead. I didn't want him to see I had blushed.

"I-I'm sorry Isthalla," he smiled. "I only meant it in good fun." I believed him, unfortunately. My ears flattened more, and suddenly I felt too exposed. He fell quiet.

"But really, listen-" he reached out a hand and wrapped it lightly around my upper arm. I felt my body tense up as I prepared to yank it away, but recoiled instead and turned bewildered eyes to his face. You just touched me.

"I need you to know-" he paused when I looked at him, and I saw his ears redden once more.

Too bad yours don't flatten.

He furrowed his brow in recession. "I would never do that to you; take a-advantage of you, I mean," he finished, his face still unsure what expression it held. I blinked in utter surprise.

"I don't ever want you to think I'd use you for that purpose; that's immoral." Suddenly the conversation was not so light-hearted. I felt exposed and entirely uncomfortable standing there in front of him-perhaps less than a foot away-with his eyes looking right through mine. My face had to be apple-red by now, damn it all. His face suddenly screwed up from the overbearing sincerity he'd just accustomed himself to and into a abruptly surprised look as something new filtered through his brain.

"D-Did you just-admit I was your friend?" he asked, baffled. My face lit up bright red.

"NO!" I yelped too quickly, slapping his hand off my arm and yanking it away. A wide smile crept onto his face.

"You did, didn't you!" he chuckled. It only made my ears flatten more as I tried to turn and hide my face.

"I never thought Isthalla the mage would consider a templar her friend," he mused in a misty voice. He was not taunting me, but to my horror I found him admiring me for what I had said. I couldn't stand another minute.

"I-I have to go," I stuttered out while my eyes rapidly searched for the quickest exit. His expression shifted to crestfallen, and my chest made a sudden, dropping lurch in response. I swallowed and crinkled my face, willing the strange sensation away.

"O-Oh.. all right," he said quietly. I pressed my mouth together in aggravation.

"I-I have to go meet-Jowan. I'm sorry, I-" I glanced at him, then quickly looked away and began jogging down the hall. I decided finishing that sentence was not worth it, and quickly darted down a staircase before my eyes could betray me and sneak another glance to see if he still looked upset.

Why does it matter?

I was barely down the last few stairs to the first level of the tower when I found myself smacking straight into another body. They reached out and grabbed me by the arms before I had I chance to catch myself.

"Damn it I-" I looked up and snarled. A rather familiar, cheeky face smiled back at me.

"-DAMMIT JOWAN!"

He was laughing himself to death; bastard thought it was funny, did he?

"Shut your mouth or I'll hex it off!" I shrieked while shouldering past him. He fell to a low chuckle and followed after my stride effortlessly.

"Aren't you in an awful fluster?" he cooed. My brisk walk turned into a jog, which he easily matched with long, loping strides.

"Shut it," I snapped.

"And aren't you just as red as an apple? What happened, then?" he jeered. I elbowed him hard while making a swift turn for the library.

"Shut it," I hissed while shouldering past two bewildered magi exiting the library doors. Jowan waved at one of them before trampling after me inside of the library.

"Whoah, what's the rush there?" he stepped in front of me before I could reach the end of an aisle, blocking my escape and forcing me to look up. I shot my nastiest, most enraged get out of my way look I could, but it was no use. He was entirely too interested in my business, the idiot.

"Greagoir didn't say something awful to you, did he? I'll go beat the Maker right out of him if you like," he tried. I crossed my arms and glared at a bookcase.

"Jowan you know you can't beat Greagoir in a fight, you idiot.." I mumbled. Stupid oaf.

"Then what has my pretty little elf in such a fit, then?" he laughed while brushing a hair out of my face. "It wasn't that templar was it?" he laughed. "That bloke has got to find a new hobby other than you. Got a thing for you, doesn't he?" I felt my ears flatten to my shoulders and eyes widen.

"NO!" I shouted while shoving past him and heading for the door. I ignored his confused calls after me as I ran out the door and headed straight for the staircase. I couldn't think anymore. I didn't want to. I hated feeling so flustered and so stupid over something so ridiculous. Why couldn't he just go away? Why couldn't they all go away? And what the hell did it matter how Cullen felt? Damn it all. I hated being this frustrated.

I wanted everyone to go away.

Maker help me..

I spent the rest of my evening in my room-alone-and away from every blasted male in the damn tower.

Bloody humans.