Chapter 3

Cullen sat up and drew a sharp intake of air to fill his lungs. This time, the desire demon wore Shaye's face as he was made to watch despicable acts of barbarism. The nightmares never ceased. They simply took whatever was dear and tender to his heart and made it into something horrific. He grabbed his shirt and used it to wipe some of the sweat dripping from his face. He swung his legs over the side of his bed. Head bowed, he sat there, trying to will the tears of anger and frustration away.

He got up and stoked the fire. He pulled on his breeches and went to the wash basin. Dipping his shirt in the water, he washed himself as best he could. He pulled on his uniform and left his bedroom. As Knight-Captain, he had been granted his own suite. The rooms – a living area, a study, and a bedroom - were small and secluded, but pleasant enough. There was ample room for his books. He was grateful. No need to disturb anyone else with his nightly thrashing and screaming.

He went into his study and lit the candles in the small candelabra that adorned his desk. It was one of the few things he took with him when he left Ferelden. It was a gift from Irving, knowing he would spend many nights unable to sleep. He was sure that Irving had imbued some kind of magic in the candles – for after almost three years, they had barely melted. It comforted him.

Cullen tried to concentrate on work. He pulled the duty roster and reviewed assignments. Meredith had asked him to see if he couldn't double up the number of Templar's on duty at night. She claimed to have heard rumours that some Mages and Templars were leaving the Gallows late into the night. Perhaps I should volunteer, he thought grimly. It is not as though I am sleeping. At any rate, it was not possible, not without exhausting the men. Meredith would not be pleased.

The more he got to know the Templars and the Mages at the Gallows, the more concerned he became. The Mages here were poorly trained and the veil was thin. Not a good combination. Orsino was a kindly man, but rather ineffectual. Perhaps to spite Meredith's iron rule of the men and women of the Order, there was some dissention. Her "enthusiasm" as Greagoir had diplomatically put it, came perilously close at times to zealousness. She kept a core group of men under her direct command. Men over whom Cullen had no authority and men whom Cullen did not trust. But it was clear that she was trying to keep order. Although like Cullen, she had been horribly victimized and traumatized by a Mage possessed, unlike him, she had no alternate experiences with Mages to mitigate that. She would not be able to recognize a strong Mage – one like Irving or Wynne, or even Bethany -one that could not be corrupted. And, the reality was that in the Gallows, Cullen had yet to come across a strong Mage. Like it or not, the Mages here were inches from becoming abominations.

Cullen got up from his desk and moved into the living area. He brewed some tea and sat down in the big brown overstuffed chair in front of the fire and sighed deeply. His thoughts turned to Shaye.

Since running into her at the parapet, they had met there often, much to Cullen's surprize and delight. Like Cullen, she had adopted the spot as her own sanctuary, adding a potted tree and a wooden box with a woollen blanket inside "in case it got cold" she had said. He smiled as he thought of her. She evoked feelings in Cullen that he did not know he had. When he was with her, nothing else seemed to matter. She made him feel as though his heart could heal at last. He knew he was falling for her. But he wasn't sure how she felt about him. As a Templar his ability to read people was almost uncanny. But with Shaye – he simply wasn't sure. He knew a relationship with her did not make sense. He was a Templar and she was a friend to the mages. It was in her blood. Moreover, she was a rogue, engaging in activity that sometimes bordered on illegal. Templars were knights, bound to uphold all laws not just Chantry law.

But try as he might to dismiss his feelings, he could not. She was to leave for the Deep Roads soon. Perhaps her departure would change how he felt – out of sight – out of mind.

The tension at home had become almost unbearable some days. Shaye had told her mother about certain rumours amongst the Templars that her father was considered a free Mage in Ferelden and was not in danger of being taken. Her mother denied it, and Shaye wasn't sure about what to believe. But it mattered not. Here they were in Kirkwall, and the real battle was about Bethany and the Deep Roads expedition.

"Mother!" Shaye yelled. "It is enough. You have made your feelings perfectly clear. This is between you and Bethany. She is a grown woman. She wants to come. It is for you that we are doing this. If you want to forbid Bethany from going then go ahead. But talk to Bethany about it and not me. I love you Mother, but I will not be triangulated!" And with that, Shaye walked away. She slammed the door behind her.

Thank-you Cullen, she thought to herself as she made her way to the sanctuary as she now called it. Cullen always listened patiently as she vented her frustrations to him. He had gently pointed out to her that trying to protect Bethany and her mother from one another served only to perpetuate the problem. She was allowing herself to be caught in the middle – she was becoming the focal point, instead of Bethany. The fight should be between Bethany and her mother. She was being "triangulated" between them, he had said.

"You are making that word up Cullen. I know you!" Shaye had pouted. She hated it when he was right. And pouting usually worked well. It made him smile, and give in, much to their mutual delight.

"Well, I admit I have not ever heard the word, but it fits doesn't it?" Cullen said rather too smugly for Shaye's taste.

There was always tension between the two of them. They argued about almost everything. She was as well-educated as he, and could challenge him, much to his exasperation at times. But the tension between them was tempered with humour and genuine affection. In the last few weeks she had met Cullen frequently. And when she went to the sanctuary and he was not there, her disappointment was almost palpable. And when he was, she felt her heart sing. He made her laugh and he made her think. And while he seemed flirtatious at times, interested in her as a woman, he hadn't tried to kiss her. Perhaps he didn't find her attractive. Perhaps he wasn't interested. Or perhaps it was his politeness. He was a Knight. He had taken vows. There was a code of conduct to which he had to adhere, and what was she - a rogue living in Lowtown with a sister who was a Mage.

She ran up the stairs to the parapet hoping he would be there. And he was, shirtless, on his hands and knees, examining one of the legs of a small table he was building.

He looked up smiling brightly. "Ah Shaye. Would you please hand me the oil? It right there by the bench."

He sat upright revealing his broad, chiselled chest at which Shaye found herself staring. He was tanned and fit, but the scars were plentiful. She wondered about the story behind those wounds. Her knees felt a little weak as she brought him the oil. She tried to avert her eyes, and act casual. If he noticed her stares, he was kind enough not to say anything.

She watched him intently. That she was physically attracted to him was undeniable. It was a sexual attraction that ran deeper than she had ever before experienced. And with Cullen, there was something much more. He was a man with so many facets. He was intelligent and well read. He was a highly skilled swordsman. He was a warrior who crafted furniture! He was self-assured and confident, yet shy and reticent. They rarely agreed on things religious or political, but he was true to himself and his beliefs. He stood for something. And she admired that. But she thought to herself, he is a Templar. He hunts mages. He makes them tranquil. And he is a man who seems haunted by his past.

When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he took a seat beside Shaye and gratefully accepted the ale she poured, still cool in the metal flask she had bought. She reluctantly passed him his shirt and told him about her encounter with her mother. Cullen grinned taking great delight in telling her he told her so.

"Fine, so you were right once. I admit it." She smiled. "So, what do you suppose we will fight about today?" Shaye asked.

"Do we have anything left to fight about?" Cullen asked grinning. "And do we agree on anything. I have forgotten."

They laughed. Shaye closed her eyes and let the sun warm her face. Cullen gazed at her. He wanted desperately to kiss her, to take her hand in his, but he was afraid. He had thought long and hard about what intrigued him so about this woman. She was beautiful to be certain. But he had been with pretty women before. As a recruit, there were several attractive women who were more than happy to meet his needs, to fall in love with him. Good women, kind and loving. But none as beautiful as Shaye, at least not to him. None as strong and determined, capable and intelligent. None that made him laugh, who allowed him to forget the painful memories. She was like a warm light that shone strongly enough to melt the chains of his fear. His fear that he could not love. His fear that the demon had tainted him somehow and he would only bring pain to anyone who dared to know him.

His reverie was broken.

"Cullen" she said. "Have you ever been in love?" She wasn't sure quite why she had asked him that.

"No." Cullen replied thoughtfully. "I had a terrible crush on an apprentice at the Circle, but of course, nothing ever came of it. I was 19 at that the time. What about you?"

"No. Never in love. But you must have had girlfriends, a handsome man like you." Shaye said coyly. She chastised herself immediately. What a perfectly stupid thing to say!

Cullen looked at her intently, his eyes narrowing. Alright, I'll play he thought.

Smiling and looking a tad flushed, Cullen replied. "You think me handsome? I am flattered. No girlfriends. What about you? You are a remarkably beautiful woman. No doubt you have had numerous marriage proposals."

Shaye burst out laughing. "Not a one! And do you really think I am beautiful, or are you just returning my compliment."

"I believe I said you are remarkably beautiful." Cullen said, surprizing himself with his own boldness.

His words hung. Shaye was quiet.

"We aren't fighting are we?" Shaye finally said.

"I don't think so." Cullen replied. "I think maybe we are sparring."

"I think you may be right."

"Wow – right twice in one day. I will mark it on my calendar."

"Shaye. Why did you ask about, you know, me and women?"

"I don't know really. We've talked about a lot of things Cullen. But nothing too personal. We seem to steer away from that. I guess I was just curious." She said.

He leaned closer, as though to kiss her… and then, they heard the screams from below.

~XXX~