I wallowed in my embarrassment for the first half of our walk. I couldn't bring myself to speak, or to even look at Cullen. I could tell he was uncomfortable with the silence, worry for me causing his eyes to flick my way every few seconds.
He'd rub the back of his neck, but keep his lips pressed firmly together. He wanted to ask questions, but didn't want to force me to converse before I was ready. I wished he would say something - anything - as what was trying to spill out of my mouth I feared would overwhelm him.
"It seems that we will be in the Hinterlands longer than I expected," Cullen voiced suddenly, his eyes away from me and his hand rubbing that spot at the base of his neck, "I am glad I left Rylen in charge back in Haven. He will continue getting the recruits in fighting shape. I just wish we had more templars in our ranks to help properly train against the foul demons. The few we have can only be stretched so far."
"I would like to know more about the templars," I said, grasping at the topic to generate conversation.
"If you want insight as to what the Order is doing now, I'm afraid I can't offer more than you already know," he looked just as relieved at having something to talk about as I was, "Anything else, I will answer as best I can."
"Why did you join the Order?" I asked, finally looking at him.
Cullen didn't hesitate in his reply, "I could think of no better calling than to protect those in need. I used to beg the templars at our local Chantry to teach me. At first, they merely humored me, but I must have shown promise or at least, a willingness to learn. The knight-captain spoke to my parents on my behalf and they agreed to send me for training. I was thirteen when I left home."
I could sense a mixture of happiness and sadness as Cullen spoke of his childhood. "I remember you telling me how young you had been," I murmured.
"I wasn't the youngest there," Cullen shrugged, "Some are promised to the Order at infancy."
I gave Cullen a shocked look.
"Still," Cullen continued after a humorless chuckle at my expression, "I didn't take on full responsibilities until I was eighteen - when we met, that is, when I came to Kinloch Hold. The Order sees you trained and educated first."
"What about your family? Your brother and sisters? Did you miss them?" I asked, a brow quirked.
"Of course," he acknowledged, guilt flickering on his face briefly, "But there were many my age that felt the same. We learned to look out for one another. Believe it or not King Alistair and I were trained together for some time," he laughed.
I looked at him, mouth agape.
"I'll tell you stories about that another time," he smirked, mischief in his eyes.
We'd arrived back at the cabin, standing at the door in silence for a moment.
"I could lend you my tunic while you dry yours?" Cullen offered as his cheeks pinked, "You could use your magic to dry them more."
"I'm so sorry to cause this trouble," I apologized, "You don't need to do that."
"It's no trouble," he smiled as he held out his tunic, "I'll wait out here while you change."
"Thank you," I nodded, took it from his hand and headed inside.
Quickly, I removed my damp tunic and small clothes before pulling his tunic over my head. Ignoring the urge to inhale his elderflower and oakmoss scent, I laced it to the top as it fell almost to my knees.
Opening the door for Cullen, he glanced over me. I turned away from him, not wanting to see his eyes catch on my marred skin. Going to work drying my clothes, I did my best to keep my small clothes hidden from him.
"Prior to the Conclave, I'd only encountered templars in the Circle. Do they do anything besides guard mages?" I continued when I heard one of the beds groan with his weight as he sat.
"Templars protect against the dangers of magic. Before the Order left the Chantry, that meant serving in a Circle. They were also tasked with tracking apostates or fighting demons inevitably summoned by the weak or malicious," he spoke the last part with scorn.
"Surely not every apostate summoned demons?" I asked, "There had to be some who simply wanted to live in peace?"
"Of course," he agreed, "But many who escape or evade the Circle are too weak to keep the demons at bay, even when they try. There are few who are exceptions to this such as Bethany, her father, Leliana has told me of one of the Hero's companions named Morrigan, Dalish elves who possess magic, and Solas. Those are at least the ones I have personally interacted with, but the exceptions are overwhelmed by the rule."
"I understand, but exceptions should be proof enough that mages are not inherently evil? Especially when some of those exceptions have never set foot in a Circle?" I pushed.
"I have never said that mages are inherently evil," Cullen murmured, "They are no more inherently evil than any creation by the Maker's hands. A snake has its venom, a bear its claws, a mabari its teeth, water its current, and fire its ability to burn; but those creations have no choice in how their weapons are wielded or who they harm - mages do. Are there those who unknowingly or accidentally bring danger to others or themselves? Yes. Are there those who do so knowingly and with full intent? Yes. How are we to know which will be? We can't, thus the Circles. A place for mages to safely learn to use magic. To learn how to resist demonic temptation. A place to be protected from those few common folk who believe magic is inherently evil."
"Yet, templars don't lock up every torch, dam up every river, kennel up every pup or kitten, or slaughter snakes in their nests," I argued.
"No, we don't," he assented, "Do you regret being taken to the Circle?"
"No, I am one of the exceptions to the rule that all mages hate the Circle," I sent him a roguish smile, earning a chuckle from him before I continued, "Had I not been taken to one, I would be bleached bones in the wilderness somewhere after having been stoned to death. While there, I was well educated; I found faith that I not only believe is true, but gives me comfort and hope when there is none. I also gained friends and learned how to wield magic in not only ways that helped others, but to protect myself."
"So, do you want the Circles gone?" he asked.
"No," I shook my head, "I guess I wish the Circles were more like places of education - a choice to attend and mages can return home to their families when they wish. Mages can either stay and work at the Circle once they've passed their Harrowing, or can leave and work outside or live in peace. Maybe they need to check in or be checked on every so often by a templar. A place to be educated or a place to call home if you have nowhere else."
"I like the sound of that," Cullen spoke, "I agree that mages need more freedoms."
"Defying the Order?" I asked sarcastically, turning to look at him.
He was sprawled on the bed, his legs out in front of him crossed at the ankles. He had his arms behind his head, the bend of his elbows causing the muscles of his shoulders and biceps to flex. That flex pulled on the muscles in his chest and abdomen. I quickly looked away, returning my eyes to the work of drying my clothes.
"Perish the thought," he countered, his voice a little husky.
"Well, I know how I spent my day in the Circle, but what was a typical day like as a templar?" I asked, ignoring the blood pounding in my face.
Cullen chuckled darkly, "Typical. The last time I was in a Circle was right before it fell apart. Nothing was typical."
He was teasing me, a mischievous look on his face when I met his eyes. I stuck my tongue out at him, "Before that then."
He smiled, but continued, "Certain rituals require a full guard. A mage's Harrowing, for instance. I've attended a few."
"One being my own," I pointed out.
"Including your own," he nodded, "Most of the time, you merely maintain a presence - on patrol or in a Circle. Ready to respond if needed. Mages pretend to ignore that presence; but they're watching you just as closely."
"I didn't ignore them," I grinned at him mischievously, to which he went a little pink, "The rest, however, rarely spoke to us."
"A habit often mistaken for coldness, I'm sure," he conceded, "But we are expected to keep a certain distance from our charges. A rule occasionally broken," I gave him a look of 'you don't say' to which he blushed deeper before continuing, "If a mage is possessed or uses blood magic, you must act quickly, without hesitation. Your judgement cannot be clouded. Of course, ignoring one another does nothing to foster understanding."
"No, it does not," I shook my head.
"I am sorry again for my behavior towards you after...after," Cullen apologized.
"You don't need to apologize. I understood," I offered.
He was silent for a long moment, so I turned to find him sitting up, studying me. He had a strange look on his face. A combination of anger, confusion and regret.
"How do you forgive me so easily?" he muttered, his eyes boring into my own.
I gave him my full attention now, my clothes forgotten, "What is it that you think you need forgiveness for?"
He blinked at me, "They used you to…I wanted to…I did…"
He sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. I listened to the scrape of his callouses on his stubble. As his hands lowered, I caught a glimpse of the tortured expression on his face. He was still ashamed of what had happened at Kinloch Hold.
"Cullen, you have nothing to seek forgiveness for," vehemence in my voice which brought his eyes back to mine.
"But I do," he shook his head, "If I had listened to everyone's warnings, the demon would not have taken your form and I would not have…violated you."
I couldn't help the bark of a laugh that escaped me causing his face to twist into utter confusion. "Violated me?" I quoted, "Cullen, you kissed the demon, kissed her," I emphasized when he opened his mouth to protest, "And not me, but a pathetic imitation. And every time you came close to giving in you stopped, you resisted, you sent her away."
"But it was still you -that is, your…body," he went scarlet.
"And?" I quirked a brow.
"Doesn't that…disgust you?" he asked, looking down at his hands.
Don't I disgust you? Is what he was really asking. I put my clothes down and padded my way over to him. Joining him on the bed, I tucked my legs under me, sitting on them, before taking his hands. His golden eyes met mine, disbelief in them. My heart started to pound its way into my throat, but I swallowed it down, "Why do you think it should?"
Cullen met my eyes again, the gold in them starting to burn, "Well, I…we were - are - friends. Friends don't…think of each other…that way."
"Were we just friends at the tower?" I asked, my sudden bravery shocking me.
He leaned forward, one of his muscled legs now hanging towards the floor, the other tucked beneath his thigh. My insides quivered at how intense his eyes had become. Smoldering like embers in a fireplace.
"I don't know," he whispered huskily, "Were we?" Touché Commander.
"So…so you were just worried about how I would feel? You weren't ashamed of the form it took for your own sake?" I stammered, unable to rise to his challenge as my sudden bravery left just as quickly as it had appeared.
"I was ashamed that it used you like that, but not ashamed of…what it meant," he confessed, his eyes searing me, "I worried for your sake when you saw it because of…what happened in Kirkwall," he continued when I said nothing, "But to be entirely honest, right after it was…hard to look at you without thinking of the demon. I knew I was hurting you by my...cruel behavior, so I left."
Hard to look at you. For your sake. Kirkwall. I leaned back, his words washing over me like a bucket of ice water.
"Why would you want anything to do with me after they used my face to torture you?" I questioned, my tone harsher than I meant it to be, "It would only keep the pain fresh. I understand, more than you know."
"What do you mean?" he asked, a hand reaching out.
I realized I had said too much. I knew the details of his trauma, but he did not know mine.
"Meira," he breathed, when I said nothing, "Please, tell me what you mean."
I knew if I crossed this bridge and told him, there would be no going back. We could not live in obliviousness of only being friends and eventually we would have to make a choice. He would have to choose what he wanted me to be to him and I would have to choose wether I would leave or stay. As I looked into his eyes that were earnest and worried, I knew it was time. It was time to get all of the unasked questions out, to shine light on the secrets swirling between us.
"Would I disgust you if I said that Alrik used a demon wearing your face to torture me?" I offered quietly, my eyes not leaving his.
The realization, understanding and relief that dawned on his face shook me to my core to watch. Then his face shifted from relief to horror. I started to pull my hands away, shame and rejection threatening to crash down upon me like a wave of the sea. Cullen clamped his own hands down on mine, his grip strong and unyielding. I met his eyes again, fearing what I would see, but I was rendered paralyzed as his eyes shone with tears.
"You remembered? Maker's breath, I am a simpleton!," Cullen swore, "I should've known, should've realized. Meira, I am-forgive me. You told me plain as day back in Haven after your sister closed the Breach that you had remembered and I...forgive me."
A little bewildered at his words I asked, "Why are you apologizing? The spirit that saved me said I would remember."
"You should not have remembered what he did to you," Cullen murmured, "I - we, that is...Bethany's sister, Marian, knew of a mage that could enter the Fade and reshape memories. After I found you...you were...I wanted to save you from that. There was no reaching you, no recovery. Bethany recommended having Marian contact a mage named Feynriel to see if he could reshape the memories in your mind. If he were able to, Bethany theorized you would return to your normal state. Feynriel came, in favor to Hawke, but when he tried...Meira..."
Cullen's head dropped at this, the guilt lining his features not escaping my notice before he hid his face from me. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say; what the guilt eating at him indicated. So many pieces falling into place from how he'd acted while I had still been Tranquil, why I couldn't remember who he was as a Tranquil. Tears burned in my eyes and I gingerly lifted his face to me.
"You put the brand to my forehead," I stated, relieving him from having to say the words.
He gave a nod before he broke, pulling me into his arms, "Forgive me. There was a demon. It was the only way to save you, but it...I..."
He was clinging to me like he did that night after I stumbled into his dream, as if needing absolution. Weight upon weight held us down, chain upon chain bound us together. The weights of guilt, shame, doubt and desire; the chains of hurt, trauma, betrayal, hatred, and prejudice.
Yet buried beneath all of that, I felt a cord: braided together with love, friendship, hope, faith and endurance that tethered us together. The connection I'd felt in the tower, during those days of stolen moments. Did he feel it too? Rising from the darkness, weaving its way once again into my soul?
"Cullen," I spoke, my voice surprisingly steady, "Look at me."
He pulled away, his eyes no longer shining with tears, but his face was still twisted with agony and shame. Slowly, I rolled up the sleeves of his tunic to reveal the scars on my skin. I took one of his hands in mine, spread his fingers and ran the pads of them along my left forearm.
I flinched as his fingers lifted and fell with each violation that my captors had inflicted, but I did not move his hand away. The demon's face shadowed part of Cullen's, but I focused on the real Cullen's face. His eyes looked at my skin with pain and sorrow. No pity, I thanked the Maker, he would not dishonor me with pity, but he did not hide the rage that overpowered the other emotions.
"Tranquility gave me peace, pulled me from the ocean of darkness I was drowning in," I spoke, my voice sounding far from me, "When I remembered, I could face it knowing I made it out. That I had survived. That you had saved me."
I looked into his eyes, placing my right hand on his cheek, "I told you that you were the reason that I endured. I endured as long as I did because I could only ever see the look on your face after what happened with Uldred: the fear, the anger, the pain.
"That you, who I held dear, had been so hurt by the results of those who did give in to temptation. I couldn't be the catalyst for you being hurt again nor could I live with the idea of causing the same kind of pain for others or the Maker who created me.
"That conviction helped me endure, knowing that I did not want to be a monster. But enduring drove me to instinctual survival; the pain, the isolation, the abuse broke me so thoroughly that once I knew it was over - once I was in your arms leaving that cell - I let go of the need to survive.
"Once I let go, I was lost. I appreciate what you tried to do through Feynriel, but forgetting wasn't the answer, not really. I earned these scars, they are a part of me even if I hate them. They are proof that I endured, testimony that I survived and motivation to walk through the fire and emerge victorious.
"Putting me through the Rite was what you had to do to save me and the brand is proof that I am alive," I confessed.
My heart pounded as if it sensed that I was cutting it open for him. He simply studied me, his eyes so intense I thought my skin was burning where their gaze landed. My eyes drifted over his face, falling to his lips when he finally parted them to speak.
"I know whatever I say will not be enough to answer the strength or the courage of what you just told me," he murmured, "But your valor, your faith, and your will are so incredibly beautiful there are not words enough to say to honor them."
My face flamed, but I did not lower my eyes from his as I could tell he was not finished speaking.
"I simply wish I had been as...gallant in the aftermath of my ordeal," he admitted.
I gently placed a hand on his face again, "Admitting our mistakes and correcting them is just as gallant, Cullen."
He gave me an appreciative nod, but I took hold of his face with both hands asking him to pay attention to me, "Do not be fooled. I did not resist temptation. I gave in in one moment of complete weakness and selfishness. It is only because Alrik killed the demon before it could possess me that I did not become an abomination. You may regret what you did in the aftermath of your trauma, but you don't have to regret giving in to temptation. And I am still trying to find my footing in this war-torn world I've awakened to; I'm bound to make some mistakes," I gave a self-deprecating smirk.
His lips twitched, but he stayed serious, "Will you allow me to be by your side as you find your feet?"
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped, dropping my hands to his chest and then quickly tearing them from his bare skin to my lap.
"That is...Maker's breath...that sounded better in my head," he grumbled.
"I could use a steady shoulder to lean against, but even more, I could use my dear friend," I smiled, warmly.
He returned my smile, grabbing my hand and squeezing it, "I'll gladly be both."
"Now, on a lighter note - what does templar training involve?" I asked, giving him a playful grin as I squeezed his hand and slipped off the bed.
If I didn't get away from him I was going to break the "friend" rule. I put plenty of distance between us as I returned to drying my clothes. They were nearly dry, but still just a little damp.
He laughed before obliging my question, "There is weapon and combat training. Even without their abilities, templars are among the best warriors in Thedas. Initiates must memorize portions of the Chant of Light, study history and improve their mental focus."
"Did you enjoy your training?" I asked, the answer obvious, but I figured I'd ask anyway.
"I wanted to learn everything," he answered with vehemence, "If I was giving my life to this, I would be the best templar I could."
"You were a model student," I mocked, giving him a sardonic grin. A model student he was not, if his track record with obeying rules around me were any indication.
Cullen chortled, "I wanted to be. I wasn't always successful. Watching a candle burn down while reciting the Chant of Transfiguration wasn't the most exciting task. I admit, my mind sometimes wandered."
I laughed before a thought occurred to me, "Do templars take vows? 'I swear to the Maker to watch all the mages' - that sort of thing?"
"Not those words exactly, though maybe I should advise a change in the language of the vows," he joked before answering honestly, "There's a vigil first. You're meant to be at peace during that time, but your life is about to change. When it's over, you give yourself to a life of service. That's when you're given a philter - your first draught of lyrium - and it's power," he spoke of lyrium with almost a reverent fear, "As templars, we are not to seek wealth or acknowledgment. Our lives belong to the Maker and the path we have chosen."
Another thought occurred to me, that had my heart sinking, but also would put the pieces in place as to why he'd never acted on romantic feelings for me - if he had them, "Are templars allowed to marry? Or do you take vows of celibacy?"
I remembered relationships being carried out in secret at the Circle, but had never really thought about the why before. While Cullen had broken some rules in regards to his friendship with me, he valued his title as "templar" enough to respect the vows he would've taken.
Aside from vows, he also had understood the wrongness of a templar seemingly taking advantage of his charges. If he'd taken vows, it would doubly make sense why he'd kept our relationship platonic and still continued in that path.
He cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening, "Why-why would you...That's not expected. Templars can marry - although there are rules around it, and the Order must grant permission. Some may choose to give up...more to prove their devotion, but it's, um, not required."
Well, the Order would never allow a templar and a mage to marry. However, now that he was no longer a part of the Order that didn't stand in our way. The only thing that would were vows he'd taken.
He may have left the Order, but I could see him keeping his vows as a way of respecting the title he once held and for his fellow templars. My heart started thumping in my chest and a lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
"Have you?" I nearly squeaked out.
"Me? I...um...no. I have taken no such vows," Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, "Maker's breath - can we speak of something else?"
I nodded, a calm reply in response to the soaring in my chest. No vows, no Order, no Circle. There was nothing standing in our way any more in that sense, but he'd made it clear that as commander and subordinate he wouldn't cross that line.
It wasn't the time just yet, either with everything going on; but I held hope in my heart that the time would come soon. I said nothing for fear I would declare my love for him and make things tense all over again. With everything we'd discussed, it finally felt like we could breathe and truly enjoy being friends again. I turned to my clothes, which were nearly dry.
"Well, I think my clothes are dry enough now," I said after clearing my throat, "We should try to sleep."
Cullen stood, but hesitated before leaving so I could change. He walked towards me and my heart started pounding as that intensity returned to his eyes from earlier. He stood before me and I had to look up into his eyes.
"My name is Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition's Armies," he took my hand gently, bowing to kiss it, "It's lovely to make your acquaintance."
"My name is Meira Neria Lavellan, I am glad to make your acquaintance," I touched his face as he straightened.
Cullen continued to stare into my eyes, the gentleness in his own causing my heart to ache. We stood there in silence and my knees began to grow weak.
"I should let you change," Cullen murmured as he squeezed my hand before he turned and left.
I changed and hurriedly opened the door. My heart dropped when he wasn't there, but I wasn't entirely surprised. I folded his tunic with care and placed it on the end of his bed for when he returned. I had a nagging feeling that Cullen felt the same way as I did, and just as I did, knew it was not yet time. Would the Maker bless us with happiness or were we doomed to lives of misery because of the accursed hole in the sky?
Oh Maker, hear my cry...
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