He broke away from her, groaning and running a hand through his hair.
"You should go, before I lose all ability to control myself," he told her softly. He ran a hand down her cheek again, pulling her close and wishing he could protect her from the Tower, from the loneliness, from the world.
When he released her, she slipped away through the door, looking back at him with blue eyes filled with tears… tears and a gentle smile.
She understood. Darkspawn take it, she understood, and she shouldn't have to. He shouldn't have to.
But so well trained and indoctrinate was he, that he never thought to try to escape. It was impossible. He of all people should know that—he was one of the people that made it impossible.
So he returned to his desk and tried to focus.
The next morning was cold and damp, and he was in a bad way. He'd been plagued all night by dreams of Miranne being taken by Darkspawn and Maker-knew-what-else. And snakes.
He hated snakes. Why did he have to dream about them?
He trudged up the tower steps to the meeting room. Today, all the senior Templars were to be there to guard the halls of the meeting room. The apprentices in particular liked to sneak up and learn what the meetings were about. But this one was important, so there would be no eavesdropping today.
He paced the hallway as the hours stretched. He thought of one thing only… the one thing he shouldn't have been thinking of.
Then the Fade broke loose. Pandemonium erupted inside the meeting room, and Templars and mages alike poured forth. "Run!" screamed one panicked senior mage.
Miranne! The thought plunged Andrew into terror. If something terrible was happening, she was surely in danger. He sprinted towards the stairs and down and around. And around. And around.
The tower echoed with magical detonations, explosions of arcane power that echoed through the halls. Screams and panicked bodies flew past him, as he raced for the source of his heart…
Blood mages be damned, he was going to save the woman he loved.