He had heard that the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander were arranging for another apprentice to undergo the Harrowing ritual soon. And he had been the lucky Templar chosen to stand vigil over the lucky apprentice. Of course, that actually meant that he was potentially going to be said apprentice's executioner. Though he would never dare to voice this thought out loud. Despite what most of the mages thought about them, most of his colleagues did seem to… care about the mages. There were still the handful that rubbed him the wrong way, but he did understand where they were coming from. He used to grow up on the gruesome stories of abominations and rampaging lunatic blood mages that chilled his blood. One of the reasons he had taken up the sword in the first place.
Cullen was, once again, standing guard in the library when Solona walked in. She had a rather large tome in her hands and she retreated to her usual spot in the corner. He found himself inching closer to her until he was very nearly next to her. She poured over the tome feverishly, as if it held all the answers to her internal dilemma.
"Are you, um, alright?" he dared to ask.
She looked at him, startled.
"Yes," she sighed. "I mean… I was just told that I was going to do my Harrowing soon. I-"
She stopped herself and looked down at the tome.
"I don't know what to expect," she said at last.
He was very, very sorely tempted to reveal the secrets of the ritual.
"I'm sure you'll do just fine," he opted to say.
She looked up at him again and smiled gratefully.
"Thanks, Cullen," she said softly then cleared her throat. "I should…"
"Oh- right, I'll leave you to it," he nodded and shuffled away.
Ever since that night he had stumbled upon her in the corridor, he had made it a point to check the library before the curfew bell rang. He especially made it a point tonight to check it before he resumed his duties, and felt a little relieved that he did. She was slumped over the tome, fast asleep, tendrils of dark wavy hair falling over her cheek as usual. He shook her shoulder and she stirred, blinking up at him blearily.
"Cullen? Wha-?"
Just at that moment, the curfew bell rang and she jumped out of her seat.
"Maker's breath!" she exclaimed. "Thank you so much, Cullen!"
He couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction.
"Somehow I knew I'd find you fast asleep here," he told her.
She smiled at him sheepishly. "I should get back to the dorms now."
He nodded, taking a step back. "I could- uh- walk back with you… I'm heading in the same direction."
The look she gave him nearly made him pass out from holding his breath too long.
"I would be honoured, Ser," she said.
"No, the honour is mine," he bowed his head before gesturing for her to lead the way.
The corridors were empty as they made their way to the apprentices' quarters. Most of the denizens of the Circle had long retired to their beds and the only person they had passed by was Owain, rearranging the items in the stockroom again. Once they had reached their destination, she turned around to face him.
"Thank you for escorting me, Ser Cullen," she said politely but there was a twinkle in her eyes that he easily recognised.
"It is my pleasure, Solona," he replied in the same tone with a small smile.
She leaned forwards and gave him a peck on his lips before quickly retreating into the dorms. The door closed after her, but he had managed to catch the impish look on her face.
That minx.
They would steal kisses in the shadows when they were alone. He knew it was wrong, that it was against his station and that it was strictlyforbidden . Yet the idea of forbidden love thrilled him, and he found himself growing more confident in her presence. She would throw him looks in the library, seductively biting down on her bottom lip, just like how he usually did in their little trysts.
Neither of them wanted to further what they had, and he was surprised to learn that she was, in fact… still innocent. He had thought, by the way she acted and the rumours flying around the Circle about her and the escapee mage, surely… she had kissed many boys, she admitted, but that was the extent of that. She had always known that she had a pretty face and she used it to her advantage. Solona liked to say that she had more than magic at her disposal, and he wholeheartedly believed her.
Then the day came for her Harrowing. He was almost certain the Knight-Commander himself had figured out his overwhelming concern for her that night, if he hadn't already figured it out before. He was pretty sure he was assigned her slayer because of that. When she collapsed onto the floor, he had sprung forth from his position and knelt down beside her still form. She was breathing softly, eyes closed and hair falling across her cheek. Exactly like all the times he had awoken her in the library, but she had not looked as deathly pale as this and he doubted she was going to wake easily right now. The First Enchanter went to his side and placed a hand on her forehead. He nodded to Greagoir.
"It is done," the elderly man said. "She has passed her Harrowing."
"Very well," Greagoir nodded back. "Cullen, please see that the mage returns to her bed safely."
He gathered the young woman up in his arms, attempting to wipe off the frown on his brows in front of the Knight-Commander. Her skin felt cold against his cheek as he shifted her in his arms when he descended the hundred steps from the tower. The next day he stood around the corridor near the Chantry in hopes to catch her on her way to see the First Enchanter. He was not disappointed. Her hair was a mess as if she had just woken up (which was very likely) but there was colour in her cheeks again. He heaved a small sigh of relief at that.
"Hello, Cullen," her eyes lit up the same way they did whenever she saw him.
"Hello," he smiled back. "I'm glad to see you're alright…"
"Yes," she nodded.
"It would have been horrible if you had decided to turn into an abomination," he said jokingly. "They assigned me to be the Templar to strike the killing blow, you see."
"Awh, such a shame," she pouted. "I'm sure my abomination self would have gladly fallen… to your sword."
He resisted the urge to blanch. He didn't think he would ever get used to the occasional risqué comment she liked to throw around. He looked around quickly then back to her, feeling a flush creeping up his face.
"Solona," he chastised.
She threw him a wink and ran off to the First Enchanter's office. How she enjoyed torturing him so. She had passed by again a few minutes later with another man in tow. He recognised him as the Grey Warden that the whole tower had been all a thither about. He seemed exactly the kind of grizzled and hardened warrior from the tales of old. She was chatting to him about the war to the south and he caught the man mentioning that they needed more mages to bolster their ranks.
He had been taking a rest in dining hall when he heard the shocking news. A blood mage had just escaped the tower and the Knight-Captain was barking out orders for his recapture. More gossip revealed that an initiate and a newly Harrowed mage had been involved in his escape as well.
Newly Harrowed mage.
Newly Harrowed… Maker's breath, Solona.
His brain told him no, but his heart desperately needed to see her. He hoped she had managed to talk her way out of another indiscretion but this… his heart sank into the pits of his stomach. During all the commotion, he had managed to slip down to the mage quarters where her new room was. He entered, finding it empty save for the various piles of vellum littered across the table and a few robes lying on the bed. He was sure the Tranquil had moved her things in already. Was this really all she owned? He turned around and was about to leave when he looked down into her familiar brown eyes.
"A little eager to see me off?" she smiled up at him.
"Andraste's blood, Solona, I heard what happened," he began. "What happened?"
She laughed but he really could not understand how she was managing that in light of the situation at hand.
"Have you ever seen the sea?" she asked.
"W-What?" he sputtered in disbelief.
"I've always wanted to see the sea for myself," she said. "I always read about it in storybooks, the crashing of the waves and the call of gulls amidst the sky. It sounds hopelessly romantic."
"They're going to make you Tranquil," he said. "Or kill you!"
"I'm leaving the tower," she told him, all jokes aside. This was the first time she had ever been this serious before. "I've been recruited as a Grey Warden."
"What?!"
She looked away and started to gather up some things. She picked up a small wooden box from the table, hidden underneath the vellum.
"Apparently, Irving had already planned for my recruitment," she said. "Although they were not about to bring it up until tomorrow."
"Until you decided to help a blood mage escape- what were you even thinking?" he hissed at her.
"I didn't know he was a blood mage!" she turned to face him. "It was Jowan, they were going to make him Tranquil. He's my friend, I couldn't…"
"If they were going to make him Tranquil, the Knight-Commander would surely have had reason to-"
She pressed her lips against his, cutting him off mid sentence. Her kiss was intense, desperate and sad. He wrapped his arms around her slender frame, deepening the kiss and savouring the taste of her tongue on his. They both knew that it would be their last. She broke away first, leaning back to look at him.
"It has been a pleasure, Ser," she whispered.
"The pleasure was all mine, Miss," he whispered back.
She opened the wooden box and picked out a silver ring. It was obviously too large for her and bore a red crest of what looked like two birds joined together. She handed him the ring and in exchange, he slipped his amulet over her neck. He then stepped back and they looked at each other, before he turned away and made his exit.