Thank you to my Beta Reader Jen for making sense of my ramblings!

I'd also like to thank Nithu, Shakespira, Yvanna and Eva Galana, as well as Jen, for sticking with me and inspiring me to keep writing! :-*

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen charged through the corridors, his face red and his eyes ablaze. Loiterers and passers-by were taken aback to see this normally mild-mannered Templar looking so fearsome, and thought it best not to approach him.

He headed for Anders' quarters. As he turned and entered, he spied Anders kissing some young apprentice goodbye behind his half-closed curtain.

Anders, hearing the dreaded sound of Templar armour, spun round, aghast. "Cullen! Erm…this is not what it looks like! She was, erm…upset…"

"I don't care, Anders!" Cullen exclaimed through gritted teeth.

Anders, dismayed at Cullen's fury, nudged the girl outside. "I'll see you tomorrow, darling," and winked at her, then gave her a firm push.

Cullen sat down on the bed and dragged his fingers through his hair. His right leg was jiggling. Anders didn't even know Cullen was capable of being angry, and approached slowly, sitting in the armchair opposite him, and waited for him to calm down.

Cullen eventually composed himself enough to talk. Anders listened in horror as the story unfolded, and occasionally interjected with cries of "you what?" "the bastard!" and finally, "the Grey Wardens?"

Anders stood up and paced back and forth, his fingers meshed together behind his neck. "But the Grey Wardens…they have to kill darkspawn! She's only just passed her harrowing! And she's a healer, like me. She'll be no match for monsters like that!"

"Well, Gregoir and Irving didn't leave her much choice!" barked Cullen. "I know Irving put her up to it. I saw the look in his eyes!"

Anders looked at Cullen in disbelief. "But why didn't Irving say anything? He usually loves scoring points off Gregoir! I don't understand!"

Cullen stood up and rotated his shoulders, grimacing. "Oh, it's quite simple, Anders. They knew about she and I, and wanted to get rid of one of us!"

"You and her? I thought there was no you and her!"

Cullen sat back down and sighed, moving his head from side to side in an attempt to rid himself of the painful tension that had built up in his neck. "Look, Anders," his voice was quiet now. "When we had that conversation, I didn't lie to you. Nothing had happened between us. I just didn't tell you everything."

Anders looked out into the corridor and pulled the curtain fully closed. He sat back down in the chair. "So, something has happened since then?"

Cullen nodded, looking down at the floor. "Yes. But nothing sordid. We…got talking…and…well, she kissed me."

Anders' eyes widened. "Really? And what did you do?"

Cullen shrugged, a shy smile tugging at one end of his mouth. "I kissed her back," he said simply.

Anders raised his eyebrows. "I see…and you said you didn't tell me everything when we spoke before?"

Cullen looked directly at Anders, his face pale and drained. "The truth is, Anders, I had longed for that to happen from the first time I met her. Gregoir knew, maybe after seeing me talking to her one too many times, and gave me a warning."

Anders cast his eyes down as he felt a stab of pity for Cullen. "So…you had feelings for her, then?"

Cullen shrugged. "Before I came here, I had no experience of women at all, so I don't know what you'd call it. But, yes, I think…especially over the last couple of days…"

He stood up. "But none of that matters now, does it?" He said bitterly. "We're never going to see her again. I'm sorry, Anders. You knew her for much longer than I did. She was your friend. I was just some moron who giggled stupidly whenever she deigned to speak to me. There are plenty of others here who acted the same in her presence."

Anders was grieved to see Cullen, whom he considered a friend, so distraught. "I don't know if this will make you feel better or worse, Cullen, but I happen to know that Blythe did have feelings for you. She made every excuse she could to walk past you and talk to you. Yes, there were plenty of other men after her, but she wasn't interested.

Do you remember when your sash fell off somewhere in the library and you couldn't find it? She had it. She saw it fall, and she snatched it up and kept it. And remember now and again you would find little pots of liniment or soothing balm in your pockets, and didn't know how they'd got there? She made them for you. She would see how uncomfortable your armour was and would drop them into your pocket while she was talking to you."

Cullen stared at the floor, his face etched with confusion and misery. He took a deep breath and exhaled. His head pounded.

Anders sighed. "I'm going to tell you something now, Cullen, that you won't thank me for. The reason she didn't approach you sooner is because I warned her not to. I tried to convince her that nothing good would ever come of it, for either of you.

I'm sorry, Cullen. I just didn't want the two of you getting into trouble. Look what happened to Macintosh. I didn't want that for you."

Cullen felt a sting at the back of his throat. "I need to be on my own for awhile, Anders. I'll see you tomorrow."

Without another word, Cullen walked away.

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen closed and locked the door to his room and sighed heavily. He removed his gauntlets, breastplate, greaves and boots and put them to one side. Then he began the torturous task of removing his chainmail. He unhooked it piece by piece and threw each of them to the floor, realising that in the morning it would be like putting a jigsaw together. But he no longer cared.

He removed his leggings and walked over to his dresser in his smallclothes. He retrieved a pot of soothing balm from a drawer and looked at it. So she made this for me? He opened the pot and sniffed the contents. There was the aroma of rosemary and mint, and something else he couldn't identify.

He sat down on his bed and melted a little of the balm between his palms. Then he rubbed the balm into each of his shoulders. He closed his eyes and imagined she was there behind him, massaging him and whispering to him softly. He took a deep breath and sighed. At last some of the tension began to leave him.

He jumped as somebody knocked his door. "Just a minute." He pulled on his leggings and a loose white shirt and opened the door.

It was Ser Duggan, one of Gregoir's lackeys. "Cullen. Gregoir wants to see you immediately." He walked away.

Too tired to care, Cullen put on his boots and trudged downstairs.

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen reached Gregoir's office and knocked. "Enter!" he heard from within, and went inside.

Gregoir was sat at his desk. He looked disapprovingly at Cullen as he entered. "Ser Cullen!" he barked, "why are you not wearing your uniform?"

Cullen clasped his hands behind his back and looked just past Gregoir, focusing on the wall. "Because I'm off duty."

Gregoir glared. "Whether you are on duty or not, I expect you to adhere to the dress code at all times! When you enter your Knight-Commander's office, you should be dressed appropriately!"

Cullen cut in. "The message was that I come immediately. It takes 15 minutes to put on the full set of armour. I suppose if I had done that, you would have berated me for not coming sooner."

Gregoir regarded Cullen carefully. He'd never known him to show such defiance. What had gotten into him?

Cullen folded his arms and spoke again. "Was there something you wanted?"

Gregoir stood up. "You forget yourself, Ser. You will address me as Knight-Commander!"

Cullen remained impassive. "Was there something you wanted, Knight-Commander?"

"Yes," replied Gregoir, feeling himself break into a sweat as he sat back down. "I understand that you are on friendly terms with the newly-harrowed mage, Anders. Is that correct?"

You know it is. Why are you bothering to ask? "That's correct, Knight-Commander."

Gregoir clasped his hands together. "Well, normally I would advise against getting too close to the mages, but in this instance we can use it to our advantage. With the departure of Blythe Amell…"

Gregoir watched Cullen for a reaction. Although Cullen's face remained unchanged, Gregoir fancied he saw a flicker cross his eyes.

"…We can probably expect an escape attempt from Anders soon. I want you to spend more time with him, gain his trust. Obviously you shouldn't ask him direct questions, but try to note his movements, who he talks to, and so on. We are monitoring his mail. Report directly to me at the end of each day, or before then if you find anything significant. Any questions?"

"None, Knight-Commander."

"Very well, Ser Cullen. You are dismissed."

Cullen crossed his arms and bowed, but it was a hollow gesture. This was the man who'd sent a young Chantry Initiate to Aeonar and would have done the same to Blythe, if Duncan hadn't intervened. Cullen had lost any remaining shred of respect he'd ever had for Gregoir.

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen entered the chapel, intending to pray to the Maker for guidance. There were several Templars in attendance this time, all on their knees in silent prayer. Cullen wondered if they too were asking for forgiveness for some perceived sin.

He found a space and knelt down, clasping his hands together. He closed his eyes, but no words came to him. He felt neither conflict, nor shame. Perhaps I don't need guidance in this matter, he mused.

He stood up and bowed to the statue of Andraste, bride of the Prophet. He headed back to his quarters, needing an early night. His mind was clear now. He knew what the morning would bring.

As soon as he got to his room he climbed into bed, too tired to wash or brush his teeth. He reached underneath his bed and retrieved one of the wooden carvings he had taken from Blythe's quarters before her belongings were put into storage. Yes, he had sinned by taking it, but somehow he didn't think she would mind.

He ran his fingers along its polished surface. He held it to his chest and lay back as sleep overwhelmed him.

He awoke in Blythe's double bed. She was next to him, asleep against his chest. He watched her for a while, then ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead. She awoke and smiled at him sleepily. Her hand reached up to his chest and traced downwards, purring softly as she reached his hard, defined abdominal muscles.

He lay on his back and stretched languidly. She positioned herself over him and brought her face close to his. Her hair brushed against his cheek as they gazed at one another. She took his hand and placed it over her breast. He could feel her heart beating against his hand.

She brushed her lips against his cheek, and moved slowly towards his ear.

"I love you, Cullen," she whispered.

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen was awakened the next morning by a knock on his door. It was a very particular knock, signalling that a pitcher of hot water had been left outside his door. He went to sit up then frowned, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He pulled his blankets up and looked beneath.

"Oh, no…" he groaned.

He pulled on some leggings, retrieved the water and locked the door.

After his ablutions, Cullen put his uniform on, even though he wasn't on duty until later, and headed to the library to find Anders.

Cullen reached the library and stood in the doorway until he could attract Anders' attention. Anders walked over to him, sensing that something was amiss.

"Come with me," said Cullen quietly.

He led Anders to a storeroom on the first floor. It was mostly unused, and they would be afforded privacy there. Cullen glanced around nervously as he unlocked the door and ushered Anders inside.

Anders recognised the storeroom. He'd been in there before…entertaining. A disturbing thought crossed his mind as Cullen locked the door, then he smiled to himself and shrugged it off.

"Would you light these candles, please, Anders?"

Anders rubbed his palms together and small flames appeared at his fingertips. He walked around, lighting a few candles dotted around the room.

Cullen sat down on a wooden box and motioned for Anders to do the same. "Anders," he began nervously. "You and I are kind of…friends, aren't we?"

"Sure, Cullen," replied Anders, the disturbing thought still at the back of his thoughts. "What's on your mind?"

Cullen sighed and was silent for a few moments. "Listen, Anders. I could get into a lot of trouble by telling you this, but I've had enough. I'm sick and tired of the game-playing and point-scoring that goes on between Gregoir and Irving. When I was at the Chantry, I had it drummed into me that mages are evil and wicked, and that we Templars are righteous and good. I was terrified when I was first sent here!

However, since my time at the Tower, I've found the opposite to be true. You mages and apprentices have always been friendly to me, and you're all good people, which is surprising, considering you're kept prisoner here and given no say at all in how your life unfolds.

The Templars, however…" he shook his head. "Most of them treat the mages with disdain, or worse. They treat you like children, like you're stupid and have to be watched and guided every second of the day. You're never given a chance to be yourselves. I've felt that to be wrong ever since I set foot in the Tower."

He leaned back and sighed. Anders looked at him in disbelief. "I never thought I would hear a Templar say anything like that, Cullen. I'm…well…I'm speechless."

Cullen leaned forward. "Gregoir has asked me to keep an eye on you. He knows we're friendly, and he suspects that you're due for another escape attempt. He wants me to get even closer to you, so I can gain your trust. I think he's hoping that you'll slip up and confide in me. But I won't do it…it would be wrong. Especially as I've…been having thoughts along those lines myself."

Anders cocked his head, not understanding. "Thoughts? What kind of thoughts?"

"I want to leave the Tower, Anders. I hate it here."

Unable to help himself, Anders laughed, then realising that Cullen wasn't joking, lowered his voice. "Just leave, then, Cullen. Request a transfer. Go back to the Chantry. It's easier for you. You, at least, have a choice."

Cullen moved around so he faced Anders directly. "You don't understand, Anders. I don't want to be a Templar anymore. I transferred here from the Chantry in Redcliffe, after they took in a heavily-pregnant apprentice. I thought they were going to help her, but she was kept under lock and key. When the baby was born, it was taken away from her. I still remember her screams. After she'd given birth, she was made tranquil."

Cullen put his head in his hands. Anders saw him wipe a tear from his eye.

Cullen continued. "I knew I couldn't remain there after that. I thought life would be different here…but with everything that's gone on lately, after young Lily was sent to Aeonar, and after poor Scott's harrowing…"

He shook his head and cleared his throat. "After Gregoir spoke to me last night, Anders, I got to thinking. One day, I could be one of the Templars sent to track you down when you escape. You know as well as I do that if you keep escaping, eventually you'll be branded a maleficar and we'll have orders to kill you. I thought about that…and I know I couldn't do it. I may as well face the truth, Anders. I'm not cut out for this life."

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes. Anders finally spoke. "Can Templars resign?"

"Oh, yes," laughed Cullen bitterly. "We can leave at any time! Only, it's not that simple."

"What do you mean?" asked Anders.

A shadow passed over Cullen's face. "When Templars take their final vows, we are given lyrium."

Anders interrupted. "But you're not a mage! You shouldn't be taking that stuff! I dread to think what kind of effect it would have on you!"

"It has an effect, alright," replied Cullen. "It makes us feel stronger, and it numbs our emotions, for a time. Supposedly, it enhances our abilities, but that is up for debate. The real effect, though, is that the more of it we take, the more we need. I have to take it 4 or 5 times a day, Anders. I'm addicted to it. We all are."

Anders stood up, his hands over his mouth. "So when we get the shipments from Orzammar, it's not just for the mages? It's for the Templars as well?"

"Yes," replied Cullen. "So you see, I can't just leave. I'm as much a prisoner as you are. And the mix of lyrium the Templars are given differs from that which the mages are given. Lyrium potions may be bought in stores throughout Thedas, but they are only suitable for mages. I drank a mage's lyrium potion once, and it had no effect on me. The Templar mix can't be bought anywhere, and I would have no idea how to make one."

"Cullen…" asked Anders. "Are you asking me to take you with me the next time I get out?"

Cullen nodded. "That is exactly what I am asking."

Anders sat down, facing Cullen. "Think about this, Cullen. Do you have any idea what they will do to you if we're caught? Me, I'll probably be put in solitary. But the risk is worth it to me, for the chance of freedom. But you? You'll be seen as aiding an apostate to escape, Cullen. They'll hang you."

"I'm not under any illusions about what will happen, Anders. But if I stay here, I'll die anyway. Inside, slowly. I just can't live like this anymore. I'm prepared to take the risk. And perhaps we will both have a better chance if we put our heads together and properly organise this. I know that you usually escape on the spur of the moment, when an opportunity presents itself to you. If we work together, Anders, and plan it properly, we may succeed this time."

Anders pondered this for a moment. He stood up and addressed Cullen determinedly. "Alright, you're on. But we need to address the lyrium issue first. Can you bring me some of your lyrium mix? I'll study it and see if I can replicate it."

Cullen stood up and shook his hand. "I'll get some from my room right now."