As Always Bioware was the master and I'm just playing around
This is my First Dragon Age Fanfic it is another one of those stories, that have been laying about on my hard drive, waiting to be published. Chapter one, two and three will be up at once, the fourth may take a little while, since I'm glued to my drawing board whenever I can at the moment. A small fraction of it is used as the cover for this collection ;). Anyway there will be connected chapters and one-shots later on.
Love and Fluff and Sass, whatever I come up with^^. Anyway I hope you enjoy :)
I'm sorry for the long chapter...believe me it was even longer before I found a good place to cut something off xD. The next two are shorter :)
Part 1 - Glimpses of her past
Cassandra always wondered how there could be people out there possessing the ability to move without creating any sound. The absurdity of this was clear as day to her. Everything created sound. She had consulted Leliana about the matter, which had basically meant that she had blurted out her aggravation over her own inability to move without announcing her presence to everyone, after a few too many glasses.
The Inquisitor, Cassandra had quickly determined, was one of those people, though the Seeker secretly accused her of enchanting her clothes especially for that purpose even if it was just to calm her own vexation of being constantly startled by the quiet noble. Today was no exception as she was bent over mounts of scripts, reports and maps when a slight cough beside her startled Cassandra into pulling the hidden dagger at her belt. "For yours and the Makers sake Inquisitor, would you stop sneaking up on me like that?"
The woman beside her only blinked her Ocean blue eyes, unaffected by Cassandra's sudden outburst and continued what she had come for originally, placing a plane but quite thick book in front of her.
"I'm sorry Seeker. I just came to bring you this journal from a mage of a circle in the Free Marches. It seems to reach from childhood to adulthood, some time after her Harrowing. Unfortunately some pages have been ripped out and could not be found in the vicinity. Nonetheless did I sense it could be of some interest since we don't have many records of mages in this particular region." Her tone was as was mostly typical for her, calm, almost dismissive, something Cassandra had taken some time to get used to in the beginning. With time it had gotten easier discerning the fine differences in her intonation and the more familiar the Lady Trevelyan had gotten with the people around her, the more had she started to open up, revealing to everyone's surprise that her way of speaking could be actually closer to the sing-sang usual for Ostwick and Starkhaven.
The way her gaze lingered on the worn leatherback with the initials "H.E.T." imprinted on it, in what seemed to have been gilded letters a long time ago, had the Seeker raise a brow. Maybe someone she had known back then, or tried to find, but Cassandra knew her well enough now to know if Helena Trevelyan didn't want to reveal information, one better not tried to push her. Nodding and after uttering a simple, "Good day to you," the Inquisitor left her to her musings. Aside from her workload Cassandra's gaze started to unavoidably wander towards the tome as if it was something forbidden, holding information to some dark secret, distracting her until she couldn't bare it any longer and opened the diary.
Drakonis: 9:25 Dragon Age
Mother wants to forbid me to train with Alex and Michael. Father disapproves, he says it "is any Trevelyan's duty to be able to wield a sword properly". I told him in secret that I just wanted to learn it so I could beat that terrible boy I had met at the last ball we had visited. Such a boring event. The adults think they can say everything they want around me because I´m just an eight year old child. They have no idea.
I know mother does not love me as much as she does love Cedric and she knows I love father more than her. To her I am just a puppet she can shape into whatever she pleases. I need to be obedient and quiet she says and always tidy and in fine clothes and smile, even though I don't like the person I meet. No sword and bow practice, but dance, song and literature.
I don't want that! I want to defend everyone against bad men and mages who use blood to manipulate others, just like father when he tells me his stories. And Sebastian. He and I have been learning how to use bow and dagger, but now that Mother forbids it I fear I won't see him that often anymore. She hates when he visits us. Says he was a bad influence on me.
Bloomingtide: 9:25 Dragon Age
Please someone make her stop. I'm not her slave. Mother has taken me to the Chantry whenever I openly disobeyed her. I shall become a sister one day, she says. But not here, no. Somewhere far away from her. I can read it in her eyes. Father does not know this. If he did he would be angry.
Cedric is already off to Templar training and Alex and Michael will follow him soon. I miss them already since mother always rushes me out of the door before I can protest.
I'm secretly training with Father and Sebastian again. He's already so good with a bow and I love watching him. Though I don't want to be send away I have not told Father anything about it. I fear he'll be too angry with Mother to ever look her in the eye if I did and I don't want that. In his way he loves her, I know and I can not understand how a woman, able to make my gentle, righteous and honest Father fall in love with her, could despise me so.
Whatever she feels I do not understand.
Did I do wrong? Is it wrong for me to have greater affection towards someone other than her?
These days I feel sad I don't know why. It's as if I were just watching while everything around me moves past without acknowledging me. Leaves me behind. Alone. Is this sensation new? Or is it always like this?
I'm alone...
Firstfall: 9:25 Dragon Age
Dear Maker what have I done?
I can already hear them rushing around outside, waiting for my parents to come to my door and get me. Ask for answers though they know what has happened already. I'm a mage. I knew it the moment I met the spirit in my dreams. She was sweet, gentle as she explained to me what it would be like. I only understood half of it, but one thing I knew: I would need to leave as soon as my parents found out. And so I kept it secret. Until now.
Sebastian and I were playing in the garden. It had started to snow last night and we were throwing small snowballs at each other. I had been feeling funny for a few days, but I didn't care, I wanted to play. Sebastian had just hit me in the head that little twerp and I wanted to show him. I felt it like ants under my skin, but as soon as the snowball had left my hand it was too late.
Sebastian dodged but the tree behind him was hit by the blue ball of lightning that had left my hand seconds before. The spot sizzled, glowing red under the heat and we fled into the house.
Everyone I passed in the hall was afraid, their eyes avoiding me. Not Sebastian. He held my hand and still does as I write this. I fear they'll take him away from me to protect him, but I'm no threat. Am I? I don't want to be! I could never hurt him or anyone else!
Father was the one who came. He did not take away Sebastian, but he asked him to stay outside. He hugged me and I felt save. No rejection. But then he let go and looked me in the eye. They are like mine, but he looked sad. So very sad.
I told him not to be and he smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. He kissed my forehead and sighed. He asked me if I had done something like this before. I told him I didn't. He believed me...
It does not help. They are sending me away next week. I will never see my friends again.
Sebastian...
I need to be strong even though every muscle in my body is set on staying. I want to scream at them, beg them to keep me. They would not listen. It is pointless. I'm a mage. I need to learn control, Father says. If so, I may be able to come back one day, because we are nobles and he is the Knight-Commander of the Circle in Ostwick.
It is not fair, but I cannot say anything.
My brothers were not there as I left. I'll write to them if I'm allowed to. Father says he'll try to spend time with me as often as he can. Mother was quiet. She did not even say farewell as I went. She did not cry.
Are you happy now mother? You got rid of me and it is forever. If you can help it. I don't want to hate you. Not even a little. Because I remember days when I felt warmth around me and a soft voice singing to me the most beautiful songs.
What has changed? Am I the reason? If so I'll try to become better at the Circle. So you can be happy with me again.
Satinalia: 9:25 Dragon Age
It's not so bad they say. I am not stupid. I don't want to be here. It's Satinalia for Makers sake! I want to be home with my family. The wonderful smell wafting upstairs from the kitchens. The warmth in every room.
Father would be home and we'd go out riding without a saddle. Just us, the warm back of the horse and the crunching of snow under its hooves.
The Circle is cold. Some try for festivity, but mostly we are simply sitting by the fire learning. I don't hate the books they present to me. They are the only things not full of rejection, distrust and envy. But I simply miss home.
I need to stop whining. No one will help me, I need to recognize that. I'm the youngest and I feel their eyes on me wherever I go. I'm too young, I hear them whisper. Too strong for my age. Their fear makes them hate me. It's also because they know who I am and who my Father is. Even the templars seem to keep their distance more than usual.
The slight ringing of chainmail behind her had Cassandra jump yet again. Why did everybody have to startle her today. Missing the rustle of his pelted coat though the Commander sidled up beside her, his gaze scanning over the abandoned reports until his eyes fell on the opened book before her.
"I hope I'm not interrupting Seeker," he asked as polite as ever "you seemed quite absorbed by your reading. I'm sorry should I have startled you." Judging from the stern look and raised eyebrow he figured he was accurate, but didn't want to raise her ire towards him, so he kept his assessment to himself.
The more he was surprised, when she closed the little leather-bound book and handed it over to him. "This is a journal from a mage somewhere in the Circle of Ostwick. Since I am not as familiar with the Circles there as you, maybe you could skim through it and report back to me should there be anything of use to us. I need to finish all these reports before Leliana or Josephine give me an earful again." She said unenthusiastically, rolling her eyes.
She had to know his desk didn't look any less stacked than hers but he was momentarily distracted by the book in his hands. Turning it he caressed the worn leather, feeling a familiar buzz beneath his fingers. "It's marked." He murmured and had Cassandra turn to him again. "It is marked? How come I didn't notice it? Why would the Inquisitor give this to me?" Her eyes had gone wide in alarm before Cullen could raise his hand in a soothing gesture.
"That's not what I meant Cassandra. It simply carries some kind of magical signature of its owner. Weak as it is, it is no wonder you couldn't pick up on it, I've had cases in which the marking could only be felt as long as the owner was close by," his gaze lowered onto the object "It's interesting. I didn't think I'd still be able to sense something like this after all this time. He or she must have carried it wherever they went." Looking up again he asked, "The Inquisitor gave this to you?"
"Yes I don't know where, or when she found it. If she knew its owner she did not say. It does have initials imprinted though and the girl even mentions Ostwick's circle, but you'll have to ask the Herald about it. I'm too busy right now. So if you'll excuse me, or was there something specific you needed from me?" Judging by the look on his face he was far away again, so untypical for him and he twitched a little when she put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right Cullen? Something you wished to talk to me about?"
He had in fact come to talk to her about the Lady Trevelyan. Something of personal nature but Cullen could see she was busy and rather agitated that his own problem seemed too insignificant. He had a full desk to return to as well after all. Excusing himself he left for his tower. Turning the initials "H.E.T." around in his head, he did not notice the woman coming towards him, until he bumped into her head on. His free hand automatically came up around her waste pulling the figure snug against his chest only obstructed by his chainmail and well fitting armour for purposes of training the soldiers.
Looking down, though he didn't have to strain himself doing so, he recognized in horror, that he was clutching a ruffled Inquisitor to his chest and could already feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Her curves seemed to fit so perfectly into his embrace.
"Inquisitor!" he exclaimed breathless "I am so sorry! I didn't pay attention." She blinked at him seemingly confused "Please don't be Commander I was simply distracted myself. Are you well? Your face is quite red," she said her own cheeks becoming a light crimson, as she gazed down upon his arm still tightly wrapped around her.
Clearing his throat in embarrassment he let her go, his hands still holding her upper arms gently as she adjusted her balance. "Again I'm very sorry. It will not happen again. Good day my Lady." Rushing up the stairs to his tower on the battlements, his mind never left those piercing eyes that liked to keep haunting him for the rest of the day. Her gaze followed him all the way, still feeling the phantom of his touch through the cloth of her blouse. She shivered and turned to head back to her own work.
Closing the heavy wooden door behind him Cullen massaged the muscles of his neck, trying to prevent the oncoming headache he felt from spreading. Maker she must think me a total imbecile, always stumbling over my own two feet when she's close. Well he would make an even bigger fool of himself if he tried to prove otherwise since everything even remotely eloquent he could think of saying, turned into total rubbish as soon as she fixed those cerulean eyes of hers on him.
I'm hopeless.
He sank onto his chair, a tired sigh escaping his chest as he eyed all the loathsome papers that were looming over him mockingly until a pressure in his side became impossible to ignore and he pulled out the book from between his belt. Again he was surprised and intrigued by the familiar hint of magic meeting his fingertips, as he caressed the back. Well now I'll have to figure out who you are. He already had an idea, though he didn't yet understand why she would want to keep it a secret.
The first chapters awakened his sympathy and Cullen wondered how many mages were out there, whose childhood had been simply taken away. Never to see their families again. And there was never a guarantee they would find friends inside the Circle. It also made him think of his own parents. Not always the happiest place in Thedas, but he was surrounded by his siblings and friends. Warm days in summer, working on the farm, fishing at a little hidden grove he had kept secret to everyone else. Finding repose under the willows on the shore. Hours spent lazily dreaming of knights and damsels as he lay in the grass.
There had also been those nights when his father had gotten himself drunk and ended up beating Cullen for less than nothing.
He had never dwelt on it since he knew his father too well to accuse him of intentionally abusing his eldest son. Especially since it had only occurred three times before he had left to become a templar. He had still loved the man for all his faults and finer qualities.
He had not been there when he passed. Something Cullen had not really been able to forgive himself if he was honest. Even though his templar-training simply had not allowed any distraction. It ultimately led to his Knight-Captain not telling him about his mother's letters at the time.
Drakonis: 9:33 Dragon Age
I notice it has been ages since I have used this diary for something else than study my gravity manipulation skills on it.
It was a present from Father after all. How could I blemish it so readily? Strange how easily I have forgotten how fond I always was of writing down my thoughts. For my eyes only.
Life in the Circle has become...I don't know. Normal? Somehow I'd wager. Have I come to terms with being caged like an animal all the time? At least with two templars at my back, following me around and watching every step I take? No and I think I never will, but I guess my first three years were the hardest to accept my predicament. Now that it has been almost eight, I have forgotten the difference between being caged here or back at the manor.
Eight years. Half my life.
I don't need to like it, but I can not cry about everything they took from me anymore. It does not help and it is petty really. That, I knew five years ago already, but knowing and understanding are two different things I have learned during that time. There is nobody else here to allow you to go outside and ignore the consequences. Either I decide what to do next, or I need to accept what I can get. So fate, I bow my much too young, yet disillusioned head to you. There is no way out and I'm not ready to die for it. Yet.
I'm still lonely. Their demeanour towards me has not changed, because they don't take it well that I am only sixteen summers old this year and my Harrowing is to be held next month after my birthday. I still don't really understand. Maybe they feel threatened by someone who is so much younger than themselves, but can already manipulate the elements as if they were born from it. I'm exaggerating, but still...it is not a gift.
It is the upside of being alone. I study all the time.
My father ordered the other templars to allow me to use the courtyard for training whenever they can.
I love the Circle's gardens. They are most beautiful in spring when aside from the herbs we grow, all other fruit trees are in full bloom. We would sit outside and study or tend to plants, enjoying the sun on our skin, the song of birds filling the air. I take all the moments of peace I can. They are a blessing I invite with open arms whenever I stumble upon them. They are also the only moments when I have reason to believe in a Maker. A little. I never disliked to read the different Chants. They are great pieces of literature with some meanings behind them I think I'm still too young to understand. Or maybe it's because I have never been able to venture outside these walls. Explore this world. Meet different people. Oh, who am I trying to convince. I would probably never talk to anyone I meet, only if I was forced to.
I'm shy which is why I never respond to the little smiles one of the younger templars sends my way whenever he sees me. I just try to stay out of any kind of conflict that could arise. I'm not self-conscious about my abilities. I know they should not be triggered by emotions. I knew it after the incident with Sebastian in my childhood and learned it later after burning myself a few times last year.
I'd never use it to manipulate someone into submission, or harm them on purpose. What gain would I have? Serve but not rule. Sure it's an amicable intention, but in a world where history teaches us, that power irrevocably leads to corruption, it seems a hopeless endeavour. The Fade only interests me as a teacher. I have not yet encountered a demon, that showed an all too keen interest in me, thank whoever is out there. The spirits residing in the Fade, have been wonderful storytellers and I find myself ever intrigued by what else one could learn from this place.
For a girl so young she was awfully mature, thought Cullen, sipping at a cup of tea one of the servants had brought him. Not like his favourite blend but good nonetheless. Undoubtedly on the Inquisitor's orders. She had been the first to bring him tea when he had been sitting over his writings all night. Saying she had still seen light in his windows, fully aware that she was just as awake and looked just as tired as him. Maybe her own work kept her up so late. If she slept poorly she would not tell him if he asked. It was none of his business anyway.
They had talked about how glad they both were to have made it out of Haven alright and it had been impossibly endearing to see her blush faintly as she asked if he had left someone behind in Kirkwall. She had asked and he had answered noticing too late as he blurted out that specifically no woman in Kirkwall had caught his eye. He had kept his distance since then, his only way of reading her moods and physical health being his eyes as they assessed her from across the war table.
It was a drama how he could not speak properly when she was there. Why? He didn't really know himself. She was beautiful, very even if he needed to compare her to most of the women he had encountered. Her facial features were finely cut, sharp and yet soft in all the right places as was her physical appearance. For a woman her height she was extraordinarily delicate, but curvy and naturally graceful in the way she moved. More than any noble woman he had ever met.
He liked her well enough, sure what was not to like? But this behaviour was more than embarrassing for a man his age, behaving like a young boy in love with a beautiful girl for the first time.
Wait. What?
No. No. No...Just No! You are not in Love with that woman. First and foremost this is the Inquisitor you are thinking about and secondly she does not even show any sign of returning this...affection. Now that he thought about it the Inquisitor was a very shy and private person. Not that he hadn't seen her laugh once or twice when she was talking to Varric or Dorian. Even with him, but the mage especially seemed to make her smile since he had joined them to help. A sudden wave of aversion pulsed through his veins.
What was that? He could not be jealous. No that was absurd. Him? Jealous? Unacceptable. He had to stop this line of thought.
Stop pondering and go on reading you fool.
Cloudreach: 9:33 Dragon age
I'm somehow exited and yet a little anxious. Father is coming to visit and he said he'd bring all my brothers and someone special with him for my sixteenth nameday. I can guess who it is already.
They are here. I have not seen my brothers in ages. They all are so tall and handsome and proud. They smiled when they saw me and I admit I started crying, because strange as it sounds they are the only ones around whom I still feel safe enough to show my emotions truly. I have missed them all terribly. The same counts for them. There was not an inkling of fear, or rejection in their demeanour towards me and I realize how blessed I am.
As my eyes had finally turned to my best friend though, my heart had stopped for a moment. Sebastian is probably the most dashing man I will ever encounter. He is twenty summers old now and I can only imagine how the women back in Starkhaven are swooned by his beautiful blue eyes in contrast to his reddish-brown hair, the aristocratic shape of his nose, the chiselled features and this sensual mouth that is turned up in a bright smile as our eyes met.
Just like when we where kids he took me in his arms an swirled me around in a circle, whispering a very familiar sentence in the old language of Starkhaven. I know what it means, because he taught me when we were children. We often would talk like that, laughing every time one of the servants would throw us a disturbed look from lack of understanding.
It was our little way of keeping, what we wanted to share, to ourselves. He kissed my cheek and wished me a happy nameday, promising he had something for me after I passed my Harrowing tonight. He laughed about my cheeks as they turned bright red and I tried to swat his shoulder, but he evaded me elegantly.
I think of my trial and it makes me nervous. What if I don't make it? Most of my family will be there, since all my brothers are templars now. Cedric is already soon to be Knight-Captain and father is so proud of him he says, yet once in a while I see this glimmer of sadness in his eyes, telling me that sometimes he wished his children had not taken the same path as himself.
I asked about mother and heard everything was fine, how sorry she was to not have made it. It's the same thing every year.
Once she wrote me a letter, telling me how sorry she was to have done this gruesome thing to me, that she never wanted any of us to go through what her father had. I don't know, but if she could not tell me the reason why she was so indifferent towards me when I was first discovered a mage then why tell me now?
Because I would be less sad about her rejection now that I was older? On the contrary. She left me eight years ago, no explanation, no tears, no farewell. If anything I felt even more betrayed now than before, knowing that she did not have the courage to tell me then.
How hard could that be? That's what happens if you don't talk to the people you care for. Things get misunderstood and turn into bad decisions. Maybe someday. I don't know. Maybe I'll write her back tomorrow and send it with Father telling her I'll need time to forgive her, but that maybe next year she could join us here.
If I make it until tomorrow.
Am I pathetic for wishing it were true that my mother did not hate me? That she simply felt guilty for condemning one of her children to a life in a tower?
I have passed my Harrowing! I still can´t believe it myself. I had wandered the Fade in my dreams before, talked to spirits and such, but never have I encountered a harmful spirit or demon. It felt so surreal that I'm not sure if I'm actually awake, or if I have succumbed to its advances and am just a puppet.
What am I saying? I am me! There is nobody else beside me in my mind.
They said the only other person they know to have passed so quickly is the woman they call the Warden now. A mage who was recruited to fend off the blight that was still terrorizing Thedas two years ago. I wonder why we didn't notice anything.
Maybe it's because we are too far North for it to have spread from Ferelden.
They would like to call me Senior Enchanter, but since I am not yet eighteen I'll have to wait until then. Father gave me one of his signature bearhugs in front of everyone, uncaring of the open display of affection, telling me how proud he is and I had to fight off the tears stinging my eyes.
I'm glad Father is the one to keep my Phylactery safe. Again I feel judged by everyone, because my father is the Knight-Commander of the Circle and I am lucky being a Noble's daughter. Of course we are taking advantage of it. Why shouldn't we?
I know they are right in some way. Why should I be able to leave or have more privileges than the others, even though I'm nothing but another filthy mage, cursed by the Maker to always defend my sanity against the demons waiting in the Fade and those lurking under the skin of the people in this world. It's not that we didn't try to keep it out of the open, but in a place filled with people, closed off from the outside world, nothing stayed hidden for long. At least since my run in with that young templar two years ago, just outside the tower, do they know something is even more strange.
The isolation stayed the same, so there was no change there.
After everyone had settled for the night I sat in my room, sprawled on the floor and enjoying the moonlight as it bathed everything in a soft ethereal glow. I heard a knock at my door and immediately a shiver ran down my spine. What could someone possibly want from me at this hour? I slowly moved towards the door, my left hand already prickling with lightning.
Until I heard Sebastian's voice carry through the wooden barrier. However he had managed to get rid of the templar, who normally waited in front of it I still don't know, he has not told me. The more alarmed was I when he suddenly took my hand to pull me along with him. I resisted telling him we were not allowed to leave our rooms after curfew, but he only smiled telling me in his old language that everything would be fine, again tugging at my hand and this time I did not resist.
Now that I think of it I could hit myself. What if we had been seen? I still can't believe we did not stumble upon anyone.
Holding hands we wandered the garden until we reached my favourite tree, its heavy branches casting shadows over us.
A small beam of moonlight hit Sebastian's eyes and I had to gasp at how otherworldly he had looked. His gaze caging me in its intensity.
I'm writing down what he said, even though I could hardly forget it. "I am so sorry a chridhe, for not coming to see you earlier. I unfortunately had troubles of my own, which kept me from seeing you since your thirteenth nameday," he said kissing my knuckles gently. The same way he had done so the last time we had seen each other.
Sebastian had never been afraid to touch me, not even after my magic had reared its ugly head. He had always had a gentle soul, but there was this sadness constantly present in his gaze. I had seen it in his eyes already three years ago. Something was amiss. He was hurting. And so I stretched out my other hand and touched his cheek, his head automatically leaning into my touch, yet his eyes were still on mine. I asked him what was wrong, feeling the need to apologize for not seeing it back then, clouded by my own crisis. It felt so petty now.
Again he had kissed my knuckles before speaking. "I have told you once how much I hated my parents for treating me like I was worth nothing for being the third son, yes?" I nodded and remembered how I had cursed them back then too for treating their child as if it was only a tool to file away into storage as soon as it had outlived its purpose.
I cursed them for it again now and earned myself one of his smiles, but it lacked its normal honesty. "I did something foolish a chroì," he began, his eyes hard. "In my youthful foolishness three years ago, I have tried to sully my families name and defy my father. He punished me and sent me off to the Chantry in Kirkwall." The regret was heavy in his voice.
That's why he had not been able to make it back since then. "Oh Sebastian," it had slipped from my mouth before I could control it. My voice heavy with pity, but before I could say any more he had touched his finger to my lips to quiet me.
"It's alright a chridhe (My heart) I have already come to terms with it, though I have not forgiven him for treating me so inferior. It's actually not so bad to be taught in the Chantry. The meditation is especially liberating for the mind and I find myself more concentrated in my archery practice. So don't be sad for my sake. I will live with it."
His thumb on my lips turned into a gentle caress and his eyes regarded the rest of my face. "Tell me mo àlainn eun beag (My beautiful little bird), how have you been?" I smiled and told him how I had missed him these past few years, because it was the truth.
The moment he drew me into his arms, I thought I never wanted to be held by any other man than him. This time when he let go he had this roughish little smile on his lips and I felt a weight dangling around my neck.
It was a delicate, little pendant on a braided Silverite chain. An owl, more specifically a barn owl, carved from an opal. Her wings spread in flight. Of all the expensive jewellery I had seen my mother wear, this was the most beautiful thing I had ever set eyes upon.
His gaze had turned a little sheepish as he watched my expression change and he said how much he had wanted to carve it himself, but how he had only been able to draw a sketch for the jeweller. I told him he was being foolish and that it was the best gift I had ever received. I would never take it off.
What he said next is actually too private even for a diary such is this, but I still want to read it in years to come and remember my first love as he was then, since he'll probably change in the future.
"Tha gaol agam ort a chridhe (I love you my heart). Always. You know that right?" Tears had started to well up in my eyes while he said it and I could only nod for my throat had closed up by the emotion. "Tha gràdh agam ort cuideachd (I love you too)." I croaked finally.
And then his lips where on mine. A gentle whisper. Indescribably soft and warm. I had never been kissed before. It left my mind in utter disarray, my whole body tingling, warmth flooding my skin.
I will never forget the morning as I woke up encircled by his arms. His face relaxed and peaceful above me on the pillow.
It had still been early when I awoke him gently, watching as his clear blue eyes blinked at me blearily still heavy from sleep.
He looked so boyish that I had to laugh and earned myself a stern look and a little "punishment" before I had to throw him out, making certain no one else was awake yet.
I never told my father about the events of that night. He would have simply killed Sebastian on the spot. If I were just another noble, he would have gotten him to sign a marriage agreement right away, but I would never experience such bliss. Even my blood could not afford such exceptions.
I don't know what the future holds for both of us. Maybe Sebastian and I will always be friends, loving each other from far away. I know that he wants to take vows of chastity for the Makers blessing back in Kirkwall to pay penance for his behaviour before. All I can do is be there, if he ever needs me and be happy, should someday a woman cross his path, whom he'll revoke his vows for. Then I'll know she deserves to be the guardian of his heart. My gentle and dearest friend and once upon a time lover.
Solace: 9:35 Dragon Age
I write this even though I can hardly move my arm without feeling the same searing pain shooting up and down my spine, as when the templars uncontrollable Smite had hit me in the back.
I had been in the gardens teaching some of the younger mages about strengthening their mind against demons and how to use their Force Magic accordingly, when I saw how one of the others, attending the herb garden accidentally cut himself on the sharp hoes we use. Adjourning my group practice for a moment, I stepped over to him to look at his arm, which was bleeding profusely from a cut just over his wrist. He was still too young to know and just barely kept from crying, that I decided to heal him myself.
The next thing I noticed from the corner of my eye, was a dark figure stomping towards us, his sword raised. The moment I felt the air around me shift, I pulled the boy to my chest and turned my back towards the Smite that had been intended for him, without a moment of warning.
I still can't believe what had given the man, only a few years older than myself, the impression, that one of us or both, had been practising Blood Magic. I only remember the pain slicing through me as I was drained of my power, the unbearable heat tearing through my clothes. And then the world had turned black. I had found myself later lying on my stomach in the infirmary, cool compresses on my skin slightly dulling the burning, reaching from the base of my scalp to the small of my back.
I remember soft wrinkled hands patting my head, making me strain my neck to see who sat at my side.
The First Enchanter gazed down at me with his knowing green eyes. His expression sad. "I'm sorry child that you had to become victim to such fatal misunderstanding in our midst. Nobody really knows what Randel was really thinking when he saw you grabbing the poor boys hand to heal him."
"What will happen to him now?" I managed to say feeling my head becoming heavy again by the healing draughts they clearly had bathed me in, judging by the thick fog in my mind.
The first Enchanter had only shrugged. "He's probably being torn to pieces by your father at the moment for smiting his only daughter and almost killing her in the process." He sighed at my incredulous look and added. "Randel has not been called a templar for that long yet. His power still wild and hardly controllable. He brought you so close to death we don't know how it was possible for you to survive such an ordeal. You must be blessed by the Maker child."
I remember how I had snorted at him and then winced when agony blinded me. Still I was able to reply. "I don't think so your Honour. Don't you know the saying, "Those the Maker loves truly, he takes away young."?"
He had laughed about that and had patted my head again. I only remember him murmuring "Sleep child." before I drifted off.
The next day my father had come to visit, dragging a very sorry Randel along with him. "If you cannot heal her you can at least apologize for mistaking her for one of those leeches, before I haul your sorry ass back to school for the rest of your life." My father had announced grabbing the young man by his collar and setting him in front of me.
For a long moment there was complete silence in the room until he slowly stretched out his hand.
I put mine in his hesitantly, feeling the trembling in his muscles from fear. But he was gentle and cradled it in both of his, kneeling in front of me to look me in the eye.
"I am so sorry my Lady I had never intended to hurt you so. I will never be able to recuperate what I have done to you. I am so sorry." I had felt a little compassion towards him. Wounds of the flesh would heal eventually, but those of the mind stayed open for long if not forever.
"Just promise me that you'll tread more carefully the next time you have suspicions about Blood Magic. That'll be compensation enough for me." I had never seen a man cry openly in front of me before Randel had pressed his forehead to the back of his hand, still wound around mine and sobbed, all the while murmuring a "Thank you," and "I'm so sorry."
Later after he had gone and everything had settled down again, my father had come back to my bedside, taking my hand in his. He was quiet for a long time and I saw how sadness had etched itself deep into his normally handsome features, making him look years older. In the end it had been me again, who patted his hand telling him it would be fine.
The only thing he was able to reply then was, "You know that these kinds of burns leave a deep mark until the end of your days." Yes I knew. I had read it some time ago in my research about the origin of the Templar Order.
Again I patted his hand. "I know Da." I used the pet name I had given him as a small child, not able to say Father yet whenever he was upset about something.
"Does mother know already?" I asked into the silence hanging heavy in the room. He would tell her as soon as he came home, he said before giving me the biggest smile he could muster at that very moment, which was not very much, and kissed me on the temple.
My wonderful, caring father. Always so torn between the nature of the gentle guardian and the fierce, all overwhelming warrior. Never would I grow tired of telling him that it was not his fault that his daughter had come out a mage. Before that, the Fade would explode.
The next pages had been ripped out and the rest was empty, except for a small scribbling of a symbol, made of dots and three claw shaped markings at the end where it curved.
Taking in all he had read had him exhale deeply, rubbing his neck, strained from bowing over the book.
Looking at the notes in front of him Cullen was met by the evidence to his earlier assumptions. Only a blind man would not recognize the blatant parallels between the Lady Inquisitor and the author of this journal. But why hide it under the pretence the diary was not hers? And why give it to Cassandra?
Was there any chance it was not her? He had enough indicators to be certain, though he felt it would be tactless to approach her, since he had not been the originally planned recipient of it. Subtlety was not one of his stronger traits, when it came to people.
It hit him suddenly and in a wave of anger. This was a symbol of trust that she would share such intimate information with the Seeker and Cullen felt guilty, even if it had been done unknowingly, for spying into her privacy like this.
Maker grant me the sense to explain the matter to her...Please
It was a strangely ironic picture, seeing the Inquisitor at the head of the dinner table, surrounded by this strongly diverging group of people which formed her Inner Circle. Varric was seated to her left and Dorian and Cassandra to her right along with the rest of the bunch. Leliana and Josephine were absent as always, probably still busy with war reports and maps, as would be his usual occupation, had he not other things on his mind.
Even bigger was the number of surprised looks he received by the attendants, as he took the seat between the Seeker and the huge Qunari, who gave him an acknowledging nod.
"Now now, what brings you to our table of merry thugs, mercenaries and the occasional noble Curly? Has even your tower finally had enough of you scowling at papers?" Varric teased, sending the Lady beside him a wink that made her smirk as she watched his reaction. Sighing to keep his temper in check he replied, "No, Ser Tethras. Despite the mountains of paperwork trying to drown me, I felt the need of at least a little friendly banter, some warm food for a change and a good cup of heated wine."
That had at least some of them close their mouths from trying to give a witty remark at his expense and the rest was silenced by the Lady Herald as she raised her own goblet. "Then I hope you'll enjoy this fine company as much as I do Commander." A cheer erupted from the group and he saw how Dorian beside her whispered something into the Ladies ear, that had her laugh heartily. He had never seen her so relaxed before. Well he had never had dinner with her and her group either.
Cassandra beside him gave him a light shove with her shoulder to draw his attention. "It is good to see you in our midst Cullen. I feared I'd get another scolding from the Inquisitor tonight on your behalf." The befuddled look on his face had her explain. "The Lady Trevelyan always feels terribly guilty for her advisors working themselves into the ground, while she has dinner with everyone. She makes sure to send trays to each person who is not able to attend."
So that had been the reason for the filled trays suddenly appearing inside his office whenever he had missed dinner.
Whoever delivered it never made any noise to draw his attention. He didn't know Skyholds servants could be so sneaky and if he should be delighted or rather alarmed at that fact.
Taking a sip from his wine his gaze, even though watching the whole of the group, inevitably wandered to her, observing her as she conversed with those close to her. How her long blonde tresses would catch flickers of the fire drawing out its red undertone and every now and then her hand would wander to the silver chain around her neck, curling it between her fingers.
If it included a pendant he could not tell, for the long chain disappeared beneath the neckline of her tunic. Feeling eyes on him Cullen looked up and was met by cerulean blue looking at him inquiringly, stilling her hand until she was yet again distracted by one of the others.
Dinner had seemed to pass far too quickly and he had found himself walking back to his tower alongside Solas, who wished him a good night before disappearing in his own quarters at the base of the library. As much as he had wanted to clear up the mistake he had made, Cullen had been neglecting his true workload all day and now had to face the consequences. Not that he minded. Not truly at least, since he had not had a good nights rest since almost a year ago. Hell, since Kinloch.
Time passed and the only sounds in his office where the scratching of his quill on paper and the muted sound of wind and animal chatter, coming through the hole in the tower's roof. He didn't know how long he had been at it when the sudden, quiet closing of the door to his left had him jump from his chair and rush out onto the battlements. Everything was quiet, the only movement he could make out coming from the guards patrolling the courtyard and walls of the great fortress.
Glancing upwards he could see light in the windows of Skyhold's highest tower. He was not the only one still awake. Sighing he thought back to the matter at hand. Either his withdrawal had made him become paranoid already, or some of the servants loved to play tasteless pranks. The first thing he noticed, as soon as he entered his office again, was the smell. Elfroot, Honey, Cinnamon and a hint of Vandal Aria. Just the way he liked it. He couldn't remember ever telling the servants about it.
He was too tired and busy to wreck his head by trying to figure out every strange phenomenon that happened around him right now.
If you made it this far without returning to the main page, thank you very much for reading and I'm sorry for any more bad typo or grammatical mistakes!
Yes I used quit a lot of Scots Gaelic for interactions with Sebastian, but I really love to add it whenever he is involved. Anyway here are translations and I tried to give you an idea how it could sound (No phonetic script):
a chride: "My heart" (spoken: a hrije)
mo àlainn eun beag: "My beautiful little bird" (spoken: Mo aaling ian beg)
Tha gaol agam ort a chridhe: "I love you my heart" (spoken: ha gɯːL agam orsht a hrije) gaol sounds a lot like the French word gueule for mouth of an animal, only pronounced softer ;) (sometimes used as a curseword "Ta gueule!" - Shut your trap!)
Tha gràdh agam ort cuideachd: "I love you too." (spoken: ha gra agam orsht kutshachrk) Last word is a nightmare to find anything similar...
I'll spare you the proper phonetic script, since it is another scientific process in itself.
Anyone who is able to speak any form of Gaelic I applaud you for your tenacity to learn this language. I'm always enchanted by it's beauty.
Cheers!
