Inspired by the r/dragonage prompt: Awkward flirting. "Your hair looks like a fire bomb at sunset... Really pretty."
"Ser Cullen, if I may."
Cullen took a brief moment to compose himself before he turned to nod at the mage. He didn't particularly like Uldred; no one really did, as far as Cullen could tell, not even the First Enchanter. But he was an accomplished mage, one who was surprisingly good at rooting out blood magic, and evidently he was also a valuable teacher.
Not that Cullen cared for more than one of his pupils in particular.
"I need someone to gather some ingredients for me from the gardens, but I've been informed that mages are currently not allowed out of the tower without explicit permission." Uldred expectantly held out a sheet of paper.
Cullen eyed the paper with indignant confusion; he wasn't some servant at the Enchanters' beck and call. "I believe Ser Bran is on duty," he said coolly. "He could gather whatever it is you require."
Uldred's lips thinned with apparent annoyance. "Forgive me, Ser Cullen, but some of these plants require a delicate touch. Junior Enchanter Amell is well versed in these rarer ingredients, and I trust her to gather them without spoiling their properties."
Cullen sincerely hoped Uldred did not notice the heat threatening to rise up his neck. "Enchanter Amell," he repeated, trying to appear nonchalant as he took the paper — evidently some sort of permission form Uldred had created to get around the increased security.
Uldred stepped closer, and it took a worrying amount of Cullen's training to keep from instinctively moving back. "I know you're off duty, but Arda — Amell, I mean …." Uldred hesitated, lowering his voice. "She approached me with some…." Uldred paused again, seeming to have trouble finding the right words. "Well, I don't want Ser Bran to be alone with her," he said finally.
Uldred waited patiently throughout the long moment it took for Cullen to understand his meaning. "Bran — I mean, you have concerns about Ser Bran?" Cullen asked, forcing his tone to remain even while a flare of anger crept up his spine. It certainly wasn't unheard of for his brothers to push themselves on their charges — but the idea of it happening to her was intolerable. Cullen took a deep breath, aiming for calm before he asked, "Have you told the First Enchanter?"
"For all the good it did," Uldred replied with a bitter scoff. "Unwanted advances are somewhat an expected norm, as I'm sure you well know." Cullen's brow furrowed at the implication, but then Uldred added, "Which is why I am asking you to accompany her. I don't believe you'd force the issue."
Cullen certainly would never. Some of the other templars might use their position to such an advantage, but he would never do such a thing.
Unless…no, that wasn't what he was doing with her. Right?
"I understand. Tell her I'll meet her at the doors shortly."
She was already there by the time Cullen arrived. Arda kept her gaze down, silent and demure as Cullen explained to Bran — who seemed incredibly suspect of the whole thing — how he would be accompanying the mage to gather some necessary ingredients by the order of the Senior Enchanter.
"It's on your head if she takes the opportunity to run," Bran said as he finally stepped aside to allow them to pass. Before Arda could follow Cullen out, Bran suddenly grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her back. "Hold on, you."
Without further warning, he dropped a Silence. It wasn't a particularly strong one, just enough to weaken her connection to the Fade, but she stumbled to her knees anyway. Hating himself for not being able to catch her, to hold her, Cullen was forced to watch as Bran tugged her roughly back to her feet and hissed a warning in her ear.
"That was just a taste," he hissed in an audible whisper. "I'd love to shove the meal down your throat."
Cullen's hand clenched into a tight fist, but he otherwise did not react. Bran was only behaving like this since that one mage had escaped on his watch — for the third time. And as much as Cullen wanted to punch Bran or simply tell him to fuck off, he couldn't take the risk.
Only when they were a good distance away from him did Cullen quietly ask, "Are you all right?"
Arda didn't answer right away, her eyes still downcast. "No," she said finally, hugging her arms over her chest. "It's like stripping off my skin. I hate when they do that."
They. As though Cullen wasn't one of the Templar Order.
"It's these increased security measures," Cullen said almost automatically, wincing a little at how easily he was defending such a violation. "After what happened with that Anders fellow, well, you can understand."
"Oh, can I?" Arda replied softly, though when she finally looked over at him there was a little twinkle in her eye.
Cullen stood by as expected, keeping just close enough to keep talking rather than any of the things he truly wanted to be doing. They were currently still within sight of some templars, after all. Once they moved onto the next bit of the garden they would be within the trees, and thankfully not near any doors or windows. So long as they kept in the shade, they should go entirely unseen.
But the dark was not where he would like Arda. She was fiery, inside and out, and Cullen knew it was just as difficult for her to act submissive as it was for him to pretend to be distant. The sun set her hair gleaming, beautiful deep reds with shimmering golden highlights. She was pale, excessively so as most of the mages were, but with hints of adorable freckles over her nose and a light but beautiful shade in her cheeks. And despite how little exercise the mages were generally afforded, Cullen knew the shape under that ugly robe was both perfectly curved and wonderfully defined.
He knew why it could never be, but he could not help but think that Arda should be free of any walls or barriers, allowed to shine as the woman she was without fear.
Cullen said the second stupidest thing to come to mind instead. "Your hair is like a fire bomb at sunset."
Arda froze midway through trimming some embrium. "Pardon?" she said with a small smile, arching an eyebrow at him.
He hadn't meant to say it out loud. It was an echo of a line from a novel he'd recently been indulging in: a stupid, fantastical romance. "I — um." His face was getting red, he could feel it and knowing he was blushing only made him blush harder. "It's very pretty," Cullen said sheepishly. "You're very pretty," he added, hoping that would somehow make up for the clumsy compliment.
Arda giggled quietly, a delicate flush touching her cheeks. "You know, there are some romances in the library that could provide you with some guidance when it comes to flirtation," she teased.
Cullen awkwardly cleared his throat. "That…that was from a romance."
Arda's smile was like the sun itself. "The gallant Ser Cullen reads such things?" she said with delight. "I'd never have guessed. Which one is that from?"
Pretending he hadn't been poring over it every night this past week, he attempted to shrug nonchalantly. "It's quite a strange one. An uppity bastard from Tevinter comes south and runs afoul of some templars."
"And finds love with one of those templars?" Arda predicted.
Cullen struggled to swallow, sincerely hoping Arda had not read the same one. He could hardly believe he'd enjoyed such an indecent book himself. "Uh…yes. I don't know why the mage even uses that comparison; the templar isn't a redhead," he said with a nervous chuckle.
"I'd love to read it," Arda said brightly, shifting into the shade of the trees and out of sight of any potential onlookers. Since the gardens were currently off limits to almost everyone, Cullen felt surprisingly comfortable stepping toe to toe with her, leaning with his hands on either side of her against one of the trees. "Did that book give you ideas, Ser Cullen?" Arda whispered, her eyes glinting mischievously as she tilted her head back to look up at him, offering up her soft lips.
Cullen took that hint without hesitation, leaning close and savoring the taste of her mouth, the faint moan that escaped her throat, all while fully trapping her against the tree as he eagerly pressed closer to her. He never tired of touching her, of kissing her, and he imagined he never would.
She was beautifully flushed when he paused for breath, her eyes twinkling as she gazed up at him. "Mmm. Was there something you'd care to try out with an uppity mage, perhaps?" she purred with a confident smile. "Maybe you should search me. Who knows what I'm hiding under my robes," she suggested, soft fingers delicately drifting along Cullen's neck.
Instead of prompting him to take more of what he desired, Cullen's heart dropped.
She was trying to please him. She always did, but suddenly that thought didn't warm his heart or send a rush of desire through his core.
Mages would do this sometimes, find favor with a templar who would protect them by offering whatever that templar wanted. That's how that book even went — the mage seduced the templar, and although they did finally fall in love in the end, the entire relationship was problematic at best.
This was real. That made it worse.
Cullen slowly stepped back. The two had awkwardly flirted for weeks, shared many hurried kisses in the shadows and a few passionate dalliances in the night — and he had never stopped to consider the reality of it.
He was a templar. He was in a position of power, one that he had never intended to abuse. But he was also the perfect one for her to pick — the templar who had been ordered to kill her during her Harrowing, who had hesitated just long enough for her to awake. She had never shown interest in him before that, and then suddenly she was casting him warm smiles from across the room, approaching him at every excuse, learning exactly how he liked to be touched, to be kissed. He had thought she had finally fallen for him just as he had at a distance for her, but what if she was simply being what he wanted?
"Arda," Cullen started carefully. The woman tilted her head, brow slightly knitted. "Senior Enchanter Uldred said you had gone to him, about Bran."
Arda's face fell as she looked away and nodded. "I was lucky," she said softly. "One of the Sisters — well, you don't need details. He didn't get far." Fresh anger curled in Cullen's chest at the thought of a templar, someone who ought to be there for protection, forcing his touch on her — before Cullen realized that he was a templar doing far more than touching his charge.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked to cover the horrifying thought. "I could have—,"
"No, you can't do anything," Arda said quickly. "Please, Cullen. I don't want…it's important you don't give me special treatment." Twisting her fingers, she took a deep breath. "I don't want them — anyone — to know about this. About us."
Cullen tried to believe that she wanted to keep them a secret because what they had was something real, but his thoughts ran wild with other potential reasons. Before his mind could get much further than to wonder if she was hiding relations with other templars, he asked, "Why not?"
Arda exhaled sharply before chuckling with disbelief. "Because they'd take it away," she replied breathlessly. "Probably send me off to Kirkwall or Maker knows where." She stared down at her hands. "They can't have — they don't want people like me to…." She gulped. "Cullen, the romances aren't real life. If…am I just a mage to you?" she asked suddenly, tears glimmering in the ocean of her eyes as she looked back up at him.
"No!" Cullen replied, a little sharper than he intended. "No, but I…when Uldred mentioned Bran, and I realized that I was, or that I could be…I don't want to be like them." He was well aware that he hadn't made any sense, so he dared add, "When you approached me after your Harrowing, it didn't occur to me that..." In case it wasn't true, he didn't want to say it, but now that the thought had occurred to him he could not summarily dismiss it. He loved her, but the last thing he'd ever want was for her to be with him solely because she thought she had to be.
Arda stared at him blankly for a moment before her eyes suddenly widened. "Cullen, no." She took his hand and pulled him closer. "I don't think of you as a templar," she said softly, reaching up to brush a stray curl from his forehead. "You're a human. Just like me." She pressed his hand over her heart. "You could never be like the others."
She leaned forward and gently kissed him. It was more hesitant, much more like their first kiss than any of late.
"I can be me with you, love," she breathed against his lips. "Who could ask for more than that?"
All it took was that little word, love, and Cullen forgot his worries that somehow he was taking advantage. He would never, had never, couldn't possibly — not while he was hers.
Cullen chased her mouth when she leaned back into the tree, kissing her deeply and pouring all those words the two never quite said into her as best he could before tugging aside her robes. In what world could this be wrong, when his mage gripped him so tightly, moaned so beautifully, and gasped encouragement in his ear like a prayer.
He longed for a day when they could have all the time in the world, but for now this was everything he could ask for. He bit back the words, determined to remain at her level in their affair, but he could still think it without fear: I love you, Arda.
It was all too easy to pretend she whispered them back.