Chapter Text
A young templar closed the door of Knight-Commander's office with a heavy heart. His orders were clear: tomorrow he would take part in a Harrowing of a certain apprentice Amell. His duty would be to kill the apprentice should she fail the test.
He sighed. It was going to be hard.
"Hey, Cullen! What did Commander want with you?" he heard from one of his fellow templars passing by on a patrol.
Cullen was not eager to speak with anyone right at that moment so he tried to get rid of the unwanted attention: "I have my orders, Ryan. Now if you would excuse me, I have other duties to attend." And he hurried away. It was wrong to treat his friend that way, but he wanted to be alone. Much to his luck it was already late and the whole Circle went deadly quiet save for some patrols. So he headed to the chapel, the most calm and undisturbed place in the whole tower.
While he descended the stairs, many thoughts ran through his mind. Why was he, of all people, assigned to deliver the killing strike and why for her Harrowing? He wondered if anyone had noticed his attention towards her or it was just the cruel fate. Cullen remembered how he first met her while she was attending her lessons with First Enchanter and he was standing watch. That day her lightning spell went amiss and he had to help her to stand up, while also ensuring that the wrong spell wouldn't harm anyone. He was quite proud of himself that day as he completed his task not without grace. Since that day, try as he might, he could not forget her slender frame in his arms and her beauty haunted his dreams.
The chapel was quiet as always that time of a day, and he entered slowly trying not to disturb its peace and secretly hoping to find his own peace inside. Suddenly something odd caught his eye, trained to stay ever vigilant. Beneath the statue of Andraste among the candles he noticed a small hooded figure. In the surrounding darkness Cullen couldn't figure out who or what it was, but he decided to approach carefully. A mix of fear and anger filled him: who could it be? Who lingered here so late in the evening?
"Who are you?" He asked. The reply never came.
He repeated the question having come closer, but still was not answered. As he came even nearer he realized that it was certainly a mage apprentice considering the robes. The apprentice was collapsed on his knees on the floor, hands clasped together, elbows sticking out to the sides, and head bent forth. The templar's anger strengthened alongside with a shame that he was for a moment frightened by an apprentice. Swiftly he stepped up to the apprentice and lifted him, dragging him up by an elbow quite harshly:
"Answer me, apprentice!" He ordered. The hood fell off. "...Amell?" It was her.
And then it was her turn to be angry. "Don’t you dare touch me!" she threw, pulling her arm from him forcefully. So unexpected was her reaction, so strong was her image of an offended one, that he gave in and backed away muttering something like "I'm sorry, forgive me, my lady."
When that image faded away and he managed to compose himself again, she was already her usual self: "No, no, ser, it is me who is sorry. I was lost in my thoughts and I beg your pardon."
Following the surprise written on his face, she continued to explain. "I was born and raised as a noble; I still can't get fully used to being here in the Circle."
"You are nobility?" He couldn't believe her words.
"I was once," she corrected him. "I am Amell. You are not a Kirkwaller, I presume, or my name would speak for itself. Maybe once, you will visit my hometown to admire its stone beauty." She was speaking with dignity that he had not seen in her before.
Cullen was trying to convince himself that he was not dreaming again. A girl he loved was standing so close to him and her voice was filling his head. Young and enamored he was, so he stared and listened not being able to interrupt her.
And Amell was glad to have an audience. "My mother concealed my magic for as long as she could, even from me. Eventually, it was one of our family’s friends, and a Knight-Captain also, who sensed the magic and got me here." Her voice was filled with warmth, no hint of anger in it.
"So... you don't hate, um, all the templars?" Cullen tried to show as little personal interest as he could.
She was surprised by his question."Why should I? I have always thought of them as protectors, selfless and brave... And the one I mentioned before was very kind to me, while we were travelling here, taught me some basics about magic as well."
"I still don't know why he took me here. I suppose my family wanted to get rid of me." She sighed, and added, "But I'm grateful anyway. It's the best for me and for all, I believe."
Her modesty and dignified acceptance of her fate moved the templar deeply. He wanted to comfort her, to support her, but he couldn't, he shouldn't do that. He had already spent too much time there with her.
"Anyway, what are you doing here so late at night?" He inquired, frowning a bit."It is a rude violation of order."
"I came to pray." She was looking straight into his eyes, honest and sincere.
Cullen didn't expect such an answer. "To pray? I thought mages were not very religious as such."
"Mages are different, as the templars are." She said quietly." I was raised in a faithful family; it's only natural for me, though I don't do it often now."
He didn't interrupt her, sorry for his previous remark, and she hurried, as if she was afraid to leave something important unsaid.
"I came here-That is-I'm so scared! There are rumors that my Harrowing is soon, any day now, and of course, I can't know for sure, but I feel- Oh, by the look of the First Enchanter- I know, these rumors are true! Oh Maker..." Her voice trembled with fear and distress. "I'm so scared," she repeated, "they don't tell us what we have to accomplish during the Harrowing, but many of the apprentices had not returned...and I- I don't want to die-" she nearly sobbed, but took a deep sigh to calm herself and finished, "I wanted to find some comfort in praying, but as I came here, I realized...I just can't remember or find any words anymore." Solona shook her head in disapproval. "So I just sat here thinking and dreaming...Not in the Fade, I swear!" she added quickly, catching the sudden alarm in his gaze.
"But you, you must know the Chant very well, don't you?" Her thought almost made her smile in spite of all her fears and tears in her eyes, "won't you help me to start?" She pleaded.
Cullen felt his heart was breaking into pieces as he watched her pain, and her unusual request caught him off guard completely. ‘I will be your judge tomorrow, and maybe an executioner as well,’ he thought grimly, ‘might as well be your priest today’.
"I will," he replied calmly, "just repeat after me."
And then he lowered himself to one knee and she sat on her both beside him. She was so close that he could feel the warmth of her body. After a second's thought he drew out a sword and placed it in front of him on the floor." It is wrong to address the Maker armed", he explained to her, noticing her flinch involuntarily at the sound of a sword unsheathed. ‘Also, it would be easier to use it if necessary’, he thought to himself, still bearing in mind that even to be lost in thoughts was dangerous for a mage.
They both lowered their heads in respect, and the templar started:
"O Maker, hear my cry: Guide me through the blackest nights," his voice was quiet but clear and strong.
"O Maker, hear my cry: Guide me through the blackest nights," she repeated obediently.
And so they prayed together, him leading and her repeating over, and in a while his thoughts drifted to his own fears and worries. For indeed, that Harrowing would be a test for him also. May the Maker grant him power to do what he must.
"For You are the fire at the heart of the world, And comfort is only Yours to give." Cullen finally concluded, adding a line of his own, "Grant me strength to do what has to be done when the need comes." He closed his eyes trying to find his inner peace.
"Grant us strength to do what has to be done when the need comes." She repeated passionately.
Her mistake made him open his eyes and turn to her staring: "Us?"
She felt his gaze and also turned her face to him, her eyes bright and reflecting the candlelight. She had not noticed the slip of her tongue. She also didn't dare say anything, for they both suddenly felt the intimacy of the moment they shared.
Seconds passed, and the templar was the first to regain his composure."I think it is enough," he tried to sound as formal as he could," now you must return to your quarters immediately. I will escort you there to ensure it myself." Cullen also promised himself not to say a single word to her again tonight.
She felt there was no room for the discussion on the matter, and headed out of the chapel and to the stairs. He followed her closely, his eyes vigilant and his heart aching from the memory of how close to him she was a moment ago.
They descended slowly, and he was grim and silent. She, on the contrary, seemed to be freed from her burden for a while, her spirit light and full of joy. The memories of her childhood and youth were apparently the subject of her thoughts again.
"You know, as a little girl, I listened to the tales my mother read me. The tales of ladies and knights, they were my favorite. I dreamt that one day I would be a lady myself and have my brave and loyal knight..." She sounded carried away by her fantasies."Wait, but you are a knight, a true one, with a sword and everything!" Solona clapped her hands like a little girl. Well, she was not so far from a little girl, being still very young.
"And you were always so polite with me, not counting today..." She rubbed her elbow that was still sore, and Cullen frowned inside: ‘Would it kill you to be a little more gentle?’ he scolded himself mentally.
"And I can easily, oh yes, so easily imagine, that you're not convoying me to the Apprentice quarters, but instead accompanying me in order to protect me from every evil that I might encounter on my way." Her voice was solemn and full of admiration. Suddenly she halted and turned around to face him, and with a theatrical gesture stretched a hand pointing towards him, exclaiming:
"Will you be my knight, ser Cullen?"
His reaction was quick enough to stop when she stopped, now standing two stairs lower than him. He was staring at her in surprise. Though her tone was mocking, her eyes were earnest and looking at him with affection and admiration. It was the first time she called him by his name, which he was sure before she didn't even remember.
He was undone. Later he would not be able to explain his actions, but now he wasn't thinking. Swiftly he took her hand stretched towards him in his both armored hands, pulling it to himself and placing the lightest kiss on the back of it. He dared not let it go after, pressing his lips and nose against her hand, his eyes closed.
He couldn't say how much time passed. She was astonished by his sudden passion, and her hand burned from the sensation of the contrast between the cold of his metal gauntlets and his hot lips. Finally, she was the one to break the silence:
"I should really go now, the Apprentice quarters are just behind this door," she backed away, drawing her hand gently from him. Cullen let it go effortlessly, his eyes cast down.
Quickly she caught his left hand before it fell down by his side and placed something small in his palm, pushing his fingers to the center of it to cover her gift safely. “Maker watch over you, my knight,” she whispered tenderly, “take this as a token of my favor.” With that, she disappeared behind the door, leaving him alone.
Cullen looked down at his palms again, not being able to believe that they had just touched her and held her. And when he looked, he found a small golden ring with a crest that depicted two mighty birds looking at each other.