Tired and aching from her day training, Aerowena lay in bed, thinking. While her body was tired, her mind was racing. Escape. Freedom. The two words swirled inside her head in an endless loop. Some deep dark part of her knew leaving the Circle was dangerous, and possibly wrong, but she saw no way to change the Circle's harsh rules from the inside. While mages were dangerous if possessed, so were any other magic users, including the Templars. "Who is watching them?" She asked her ceiling. Who decided that mages were more dangerous than any other possessed soul? Wasn't the cleave of a possessed Templar's sword just as dangerous as a ball of lightening? This prison she was in was intolerable. She was an animal, kept in a cage. The Circle didn't treat elves or humans differently, but the world treated mages so; packing them away, forgotten. She wouldn't be trained and leashed like a dog because they were afraid she might go rabid.

Jowan's plan to escape by destroying his Phlactery would get her out of the Circle, but, since hers was in Denerim, she'd be tracked down the instant she left. However, if she could arrange for one of their best Templars to look the other way, she might buy some time to get to Denerim and destroy it. Yes, it was time to go look for Cullen.

The midnight hour had most of the mages asleep. Training was grueling and many collapsed in bed without dinner, let alone extracurricular activities. While halls were relatively thin with mages, the Templars still guarded doorways and exits.

Mages were forbidden from Templar quarters, so Aerowena had to hope Cullen was free from guard duty or guarding somewhere private. His "duty" she thought disgustingly, would prevent him from leaving his post. "At least without very good incentive" she whispered and smiled. And she intended to give him incentive beyond his wildest imagination.

She managed to run into him as he was on his way into the Templar quarters. His eyes widened in surprise and then quickly narrowed in disapproval. "Mages aren't allowed in Templar quarters."

"Oh… yes, I know. I was hoping to run into one because I um…" she managed a practiced innocent look, "I um needed to pick some elfroot and wanted an escort onto the grounds! Have you the time then? To escort me I mean" She widened her eyes and forced a guileless blink as she looked at him.

She heard a shaky intake of breath, "I suppose I could escort you"

"Oh thank you so much, Cullen. I was terribly nervous to go out on my own at night, and I am training during the day." She was often surprised at how easily men succumbed to the helpless woman needing assistance.

The moon was high and full; the stars bright and abundant. With anyone else she would have given over to fanciful thoughts of love and courtship. With Cullen, however, she'd have to settle for passion and intrigue. He made it easy though, feeling that passion that is. She'd been watching him practice swordsmanship and other weaponry training ever since she'd heard of his infatuation with her. Although he wore the practice leather during training, she could see his shape and form beneath the molded fabric. A slightly shaky breath suddenly came out of her this time as the images flashed in her mind.

"Is something amiss?"

"No Cullen, I just am glad the moon is full so I can see what I'm doing"

As they approached a small garden full of herbs, she lay down her basket on a nearby worktable and began to take off her robe.

"Wh…what are you doing?" His voice sounded anxious and his eyes almost angry.

"Cullen, you can't expect me to kneel down in the muck in my best robes, can you? I still have my shift under this. You needn't worry about seeing me naked," she paused for effect "or was it worry?"

"I…uh… I don't think that's appropriate, but I shall turn my back to avoid impropriety" And then his back was to her.

Aerowena glared furiously at his back and looked around for a rock. The only one she could find was too large to pick up and throw. "Impropriety, duty. Pious, upstart!" she muttered, mockingly.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," she bit out to his back. And then her eyes shifted to the rock again. This time, however, a gleam appeared in her eye.

Cullen stared out into the lake and tried, with great difficulty, not to think of her hair glimmering in the moonlight. He tried harder not to think of the way her upper lip poked out slightly, or the way her tongue sometimes traced it while they talked. Mostly, however, he tried not to think about how the moonlight would outline her shape underneath the gossamer shift she he'd glimpsed just now beneath her robes.

Forbidden wasn't the only word that came to mind with the other thoughts swirling in his head. Treason, disloyalty and betrayal were there too. They mingled and fought against desire and love. Love for this smart, beautiful creature with her tall pointy ears and translucent skin. It was love that clenched his belly when he watched her from a distance. And it was love that quickened his breath when she flirted with him, shamelessly. Oh, how he fought his love for her with his love for the Chantry every day.

A short cry broke through his thoughts as he turned quickly to see her fall backwards towards the ground. He arrived at her side just as she landed. As she lay motionless in the dirt, he looked for injuries. He removed his gloves and knelt down beside her. Just as he leaned down to inspect her head she opened her eyes, lifted her head and pressed her lips against his. Just like that his mind was no longer at war. He was lost in her soft lips and wild scent. She smelled of wild flowers and the ocean. The taste of honey invaded his mouth and he longed for more. He'd never kissed before, so he was unsure of what to do, but one hand threaded into her hair, cupping her head, while the other gripped her shift in the back. He was holding onto sanity by the barest string, when her tongue flicked his lip the string snapped. His mouth opened and he gripped her hair.

Her tongue slipped into his mouth and his tentatively touched it. A soft cry of passion against his mouth slammed desire through his entire body; tiny explosions burst in his belly, along with a familiar tightening of need. Suddenly his tongue wasn't tentative. Suddenly it was searching and his own moans filled the night, mixing with hers. Blood pounded in his ears and deafened him. She squirmed and he could feel her trying to get away. She pushed him suddenly and reality came crashing in around him.

"Cullen?" She was breathless and wide eyed. She stood there, chest heaving, staring at him expectantly. Her hair was wild, her lips red and bruised.

"I…" He what? What could he say? He stood up abruptly. He had no excuse; no defense. He allowed this infatuation, this abomination to continue. He stared at her, angry with himself, furious at her.

"Did you hear what I said?"

He couldn't bring himself to respond to her question. His anger was like lava, pushing against his skin. It coursed through his veins. However, his anger did nothing to dissipate his desire, and as the moon shown through her shift as she stood, fulfilling his earlier fantasy, he took a step towards her and reached out his hand. Her eyebrows rose and she put two hands against his chest to ward him off.

"Cullen!" she broke through his daze. He shook his head and blinked at her. "Your armor!" she pointed.

He looked at her, perplexed. His armor? What had…? Understanding dawned on him. He drew in a breath to get himself under control. "I'm sorry. I should never have… you have to see this is… wrong…"

"I see no such thing, Cullen. I see a man who wants a woman. What could be more natural than that?" She stepped closer to him and he backed away. "How can you deny something the Maker so obviously wants you to have?"

She was confusing him with her strange logic. He'd made vows to the Maker, vows to the Chantry and the Templars. How could he abandon his beliefs, his vows, and his duty?

"Cullen…"

"NO!" He bit out furiously. "I cannot betray everything that I believe in, no matter how much I love you. And you cannot profess to love me, if you would have me do so. For that is me. My duty!" He once again turned his back on her. "I think we'd best go back in now"

He heard her rustling behind him, "Love? Love, Cullen?" He was shamed by the disgust in her voice. "What do you know of love, Cullen?" she brushed past him and ran inside.

His breath caught as sadness and desire lay against his heart like an anvil.

Alone in her room Aerowena threw a bottle of lyrium at the wall. "Unconscionable, pious, uptight, fool!" she screamed as she stomped ineffectually on the stone floor. "Love, he professes, as if he knew the meaning of the word!" She began to pace in front of her bed.

Her body ached with want and need. Both of which warred with anger. For the most part, anger was winning. Anger at his pious, self righteous sense of honor and duty. Anger at his words of love and duty. Anger mostly, at herself, for not saying the words that would bring him to his knees. All she had to say was she loved him and she could have turned him. His desire for her was undeniably more powerful than his so called duty. So why had she not said it?

'Perhaps it was too close to the truth?' a part of her whispered. She shook her head to rid herself of the thought. Love was not real, was not wise, was not faithful. And duty was no better. Duty kept her confined to a life not her own. Duty was death and destruction. Love was for weak minded sots like Cullen. And love would be his undoing, she vowed.