Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Small chantry in the Gallows' courtyard was dimly lit – cold winds from the Waking Sea blew out all but a handful of candles. Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford kneeled in front of the altar, bowing down his head in prayer. He came to chantry to pray every night, and every night he fervently begged the Maker for forgiveness, but nothing could quell dull pain in his chest. His sin was too grave to be forgiven.

It all started back in Kniloch Hold the day he laid his eyes upon Neria Amell half-dozen years ago. He was knighted less than a fortnight before, a proud sixteen-years-old boy, trying to be a man. As he learned later Neria had just celebrated her fifteenth nameday. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen with her huge bright blue eyes, long black hair and fair skin. But, most importantly, she was very special. He’s never met her like again, and he knew that he never would.

Neria was quiet, bookish, and did not warm up to people too quickly from what he observed. She’d often spend her days in the library reading. As a new Templar he was often assigned to the library duty, since most young mages usually had more interest for practice rather than theory, and most senior enchanters have already developed vast popular libraries. As such, there were often less than a handful of people at the library at any given time. It is in the library of Kniloch Hold that their friendship had started.

One time he mustered up enough courage to ask her what she was reading – and next thing he knew they have spent almost three hours taking. The same thing repeated the next day and the day after that. Talking to her was much easier than he imagined. Soon enough they started seeking out each other’s company outside their meetings in the library – he would “accidentally” run into her in the courtyard or be on duty near her room, while she would just as “accidentally” meet him in the Tower’s chantry.

He remembered their first kiss so vividly, as if it happened only moments prior. He was escorting her back from a late class she had with Wynne, when she spun around on the staircase and hugged him saying, “I really like you.” He put his hand on her cheek then and kissed her. He still remembered how she blushed, and how soft and warm her lips were. Looking into her bright blue eyes again he suddenly realized that he was in love with her.

He confessed his feelings soon enough, and found out that she felt the same. While emotionally they grew closer with each passing day, he was reluctant to let their physical relationship develop past kissing. While mages enjoyed more freedom in Kniloch Hold than in any other Circle, becoming a Templar’s lover could certainly put a mage in the harm’s way. And he wanted, more than anything, to keep Neria safe.

But flesh is weak, and they were young and full of passion, and soon enough they’ve spent a night together. That night was followed by many more nights – until the day the Grey Warden came to the Tower and took her away from him. He still remembered the look she gave him, still savored the final kiss they shared and could still hear her words, “I will come back to you.”

Some mages joined the king’s army, and he begged Commander Greagior to let him join the army, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Fate works in surprising ways. There was nothing he desired more than seeing Neria again, but when his wish was granted he pushed her away.

“Maker knows my sin,” he told her. “And I pray he will forgive me.”

“They use my shame against me, my ill-advised infatuation with you…a mage of all things!” he screamed at her.

“They deserve to die, kill Uldred…Kill them all,” he pleaded with her.

She did not listen to him of course. Neria was a hero – and saved everyone who could be saved. She tried to talk to him before duty called her on the road again, but he refused.
“And to think I once thought we were too hard on you,” were his parting words to her.

He could almost see how something broke inside her upon hearing those words. There was not a single emotion on her face, and her once bright eyes suddenly looked frozen and lifeless. She did not respond to him, and within an hour he was informed that the Grey Wardens and their party left the Tower.

He felt sick upon hearing that Neria sacrificed herself to slay the Archdemon, saving them all. He felt even sicker when one of her former companions, the red-headed woman named Leliana, sought him out in Kirkwall and delivered a pendant – a gift he gave Neria all those years ago. “We are not all evil, Cullen,” read the note hidden inside the pendant. He cried that day for the first time in years.

He cried every night in the chantry too, when begging the Maker – and her – for forgiveness. For the Maker indeed knew all his sins, but loving Neria was not one of them.

Chapter Text

“It is lucky that the Hero of Ferelden died in battle – she was their king’s friend, I hear, and would have influenced his decisions, no doubt. Mages cannot be allowed to have any power.”

Anders slammed his mug into the table, and turned around to see who was speaking. Templars, of course. He had seen the scrawny, dark-haired one before, but he’s never encountered two others. Vengeance reared its head, hoping for a fight. He could not hope to defeat all four of them by himself, however, and, besides, Varric and Isabella would never forgive him if he destroyed their beloved hanged man, so he got up and headed towards the door.

The day was windy and cold droplets of rain fell fro the skies, but Anders took a long way to his clinic, ignoring the cold. He was furious – furious with the Templars because they dared to speak of her like that, but also with himself because he could not do anything. Just ran away like a helpless coward, as always.

Neria… He vividly remembered the first time he’d met her – after yet another unsuccessful escape attempt, and months spent in solitary confinement, Grand Enchanter Irving decided that it would be beneficial for him to have another mage visit him from time to time, and so Irving he sent Neria, a young apprentice, to keep Anders company some days. Initially, Anders was reluctant to speak with her for fear that she was reporting to the Templars, so the two just spent time in silence. After a while, however, he warmed up to Neria, since Mr. Wiggums – his most trusted friend and companion - took a liking to her. Their friendship blossomed, and soon he was scared to admit how lonely he felt on the days she was not visiting him.

He also felt grateful to her, since every visit she brought him books from the library. Neria, as it turned out, had an excellent taste in literature. One day he was telling her about the legend he just finished reading of a mage who saved the kingdom from a monster, but who was later still executed by the king who feared that the mage had too much power. “There is nothing a mage can do to prove himself,” he told Neria. “Everyone needs to be protected from you. The end.”

“It’s just a story,” Neria smiled at him.

“Then why are we locked up in the tower?” Anders asked her, but she did not answer.

He fell for her before he even knew it. Suddenly he was thinking about her often during the day, and during night…he had his dreams. In his dreams imagined running his hands through her raven-black hair, down her back and then pulling her closer. Neria would look up at him, blush coloring her lovely face, and he would stare into her bright eyes, as blue as the spring skies. He’d kiss her then, and she’d respond with eagerness. He’d slide her robes off her shoulders and feel the smoothness of her skin…

He woke up every day, yearning to kiss her, to touch her, to hear her moan and to feel her come apart under his skillful touch. He was aching to bring her pleasure, to feel her pull him closer as she lost herself in the moment, to cradle her in his arms afterwards.

His dreams, however, were bound to stay just dreams, as one day Neria came to visit him and asked, “Anders, have you ever loved?”

“Of course – I love everybody, don’t you know?”

“Stop jesting, I am serious,” Neria answered, looking at him with a half-smile, “I need advice, but I have no one to turn to, so I thought I should ask you.”

“Why can’t you ask Wynne?” Anders wondered. He remembered Neria telling him how close the two were.

“I have my reasons,” Neria replied and lowered her eyes. He noticed she was slightly blushing.

For a moment he thought he head misheard her. His heart pounding in his chest, he walked over to her, and put his hand on her cheek. Neria looked up at him, and his head started spinning – it was so much like his dream.

“You can trust me with anything, Neria, you know that,” he said, lowering his gaze to her lips.

“The man I love - he is a Templar…” she started, but Anders did not hear a word she said after that.

For a moment he forgot how to breathe and it felt his heart stopped. She loves a Templar. Fate is a cruel bitch, indeed. She is asking for advice, I can talk her out of this, he tried to calm himself, I just need to explain to her that she cannot be with a Templar.

“Neria, he will break your heart,” Anders started. “You cannot have a relationship with him – he holds all the power over you. What if one day you’ll anger him – he could go to Greagoir, and claim that you are a blood mage. Even Irving would not be able to protect you from such accusations.”

“He would never hurt me,” Neria replied defiantly.

“He will, he is a Templar, that’s their sole purpose – to hurt mages, to hunt us down, and keep us locked in the Circles like slaves!”

“Enough,” Neria replied, her face becoming serious. “I should not have brought this up with you, I apologize. I better go now.”

She had not come to see him for three weeks after that. He feared the worst – that Neria had to go through Harrowing and did not pass it. When one of the apprentices brought him food one morning, he pleaded to know what happened to her.

“A Grey Warden was in the tower about two weeks ago – he conscripted Neria to join the Wardens.”

In his blind rage Anders almost completely destroyed the room he was locked in. He was so angry with himself that he started the argument last time he saw her. At night he would dream about seeing her again. He would apologize to her for losing temper, and then confess his feelings. Even if she did not share them, he could not keep them secret from her any longer.

Fate is not always cruel, and his wish was granted – he met her again in Denerim, after escaping the tower for the seventh time. Neria looked exhausted, like she had no rest since the day she’s left the circle, with sullen cheeks and huge dark circles under her eyes. He could barely believe her when she told him abut what happened in the circle. As sad as he was about the fate of his fellow mages, he could not help but notice how pained Neria looked anytime she or anyone else mentioned the incident in the tower.

Anders sought out Wynne later that evening, hoping that a conversation with her could shed the light on what happened.

“Neria is not the same after seeing what happened to Kniloch Hold,” Wynne agreed. “None of us is. It was horrible. But it seems like that Templar’s words have especially affected her.”

“Which Templar?” Anders asked.

“Cullen, one of the younger ones. We saved him at the top of the tower. Poor boy was trapped in the magic sphere for so long – he thought we were visions when he saw us at first. He said a lot of cruel words, but I cannot blame him – living though something so horrible is very difficult,” Wynne replied.

“Was Cullen the Templar you were talking about?” asked Anders, entering Neria’s tent uninvited.

“He was,” Neria replied simply, as she knew exactly what conversation he was referring to.

He wanted to tear the Templar to pieces, to burn him, to do so many horrible things to him, all for pushing Neria away. He also wanted to hug Neria, to cuddle her, to give her the tenderness and warmth that she seemed to yearn for. He did not dare though.

“He broke your heart,” was the only thing Anders could say, and Neria smiled in response, sadly. They sat in silence till the dawn, and then she told him that it was time for them to leave. He asked to come with her, but she shook her head. “Be safe, my friend,” she told him as they parted, “And if there is any mage that can prove his worth, I know it’s you.” He never saw her again.

Fate is strange sometimes – he was hopelessly in love again now, with Marian Hawke, a woman whose eyes were as bright sky-blue as Neria’s. When he thought it could not get any stranger he had discovered that Hawke and Neria are related – upon seeing a portrait of Neria’s mother, Revka Amell, in the Amell – now Hawke- estate. Neria was a copy of her mother.

His heart clenched when he saw Hawke talk to Templar, whose face looked slightly familiar. “I cannot help you with that, Cullen,” Hawke told the Templar, and Anders felt blinded by rage. Cullen, of course he is here. Anders wanted to kill him, and then bring him back and kill him again, but even that would not be sufficient punishment for Cullen breaking Neria’s heart. He noticed that Knight-Captain also looked like a shade of his former self – pale, with sullen cheeks and dark circles under eyes. Good, he deserves all the suffering he gets, Anders thought vengefully.

He contemplated killing Cullen until he heard Hawke talk about him to Merrill and Bethany. He could not do that to her, he could never break her heart. Even if that bastard does, I will be there for her. I’ll help her pick up the pieces, Anders told himself. In the meantime, he was going to take Neria’s advice and try to prove his worth to Hawke and to others. I can prove her that I’m worthy…Worthy of her. After all, Neria Amell must have believed in him for a reason.

Chapter Text

Sorting through the papers in her desk, Wynne sighed. There is no need to be doing this, they will have someone else get rid of my belongings once I leave the Circle, this time for good. And yet she felt wrong leaving any unfinished business behind. The spirit’s power was weakening, and Wynne knew there was not much time left. By King Alistair’s orders, all mages in Ferelden could leave the Circle at any time, and she intended to take advantage of this change. Although she considered Kniloch Hold her home and all the mages there – her family, she never wanted to spend her last days lying in her bed, waiting for death to claim her. No, I shall meet my end on an adventure.

Looking through another stack of papers, she noticed a very familiar handwriting. This was written by Neria Amell. Quickly reading through it again, Wynne smiled – Neria has been one of the most talented students she has ever mentored, and this work clearly reflected her brilliance. Thinking of her student, however, still caused dull pain in Wynne’s heart – it has been but a few months since Neria perished in battle with the Archdemon, sacrificing herself so they may live.

Wynne remembered well the cold winter day Neria arrived to Kniloch Hold. Upon Irving’s request, she was helping another enchanter deal with newly arrived apprentices when she first saw her. Neria had the brightest blue eyes Wynne had ever seen and was very small and thin, with sullen cheeks, and pale skin. As Wynne learned later, Neria’s last adoptive family believed that they could “starve” the magic out of her, and kept her locked in the basement of their house for about a month before the Templars discovered her though the neighbors’ reports.

Neria quickly demonstrated to Wynne – and to her other teachers that she was an extremely talented student. Quiet, bookish, reserved, she spent most of her days in the library reading and studying. Wynne has rarely seen anyone with that much thirst for knowledge – and had never seen anyone with that much raw potential. Leaving for Ostagar, she was hoping to come back and see Neria become a fully-fledged member of the circle, so she could further develop her magical abilities.

She was devastated to learn that Neria was conscripted to the Grey Wardens. The girl is dead, she thought, no Wardens survived Ostagar. Wynne knew the Warden’s task was important and noble, and yet she could not help but feel resentment. They always pick the best ones… Such a waste, she could have achieved so much, she had potential to become one of the greatest mages of our time. It felt unfair and wrong that she was taken away from that path and led straight to slaughter.

When she saw Neria walk through the doors of the tower again, she could not believe her eyes. I am likely dead and am just dreaming in the Fade, she told herself. But she was not dreaming, and Neria did, in fact, return – to stop the madness Uldred unleashed upon the Circle. Neria and her companions left the Tower soon after Uldred was death with, and Wynne left with them – she’s seen at Ostagar what the darkspawn were capable of and was willing to do anything in her power to help stop them.

“What does it mean for you to be a Grey Warden?” she asked Neria once in camp. Wynne wanted to ask Neria for awhile, but chose to wait seeing as Neria had many other things to deal with.

“I’m not sure,” Neria replied after a short silence. “I’ve never wanted this. Not, that I am one, I understand how important the task is. And yet I still do not think I’m the person to do it, or that I should even be here.”

“But you are strong, smart, and resourceful,” Wynne countered, “And you got us this far. Surely it counts for something?”

“I don’t know,” Neria said quietly. Wynne could see the toll the task was taking on Neria – she looked pale and had deep shadows under her eyes from the lack of sleep. She must not eat enough, Wynne thought seeing, she looks emaciated.

“Also, even when the Blight is over, being a Warden will not be,” Neria continued after a pause, “even if we win this war, I could never go back to the life I had at the Circle.”

“Would you go back? To the life you had before leaving with the wardens?” Wynne asked.

“In a heartbeat,” Neria answered without even thinking about it. “The wardens’ burden is a lot to bear.”

“The Maker smiles sadly upon his Grey Wardens, for no sacrifice is greater than theirs,” Wynne recited, remembering the words she had heard years ago form a mother at the Chantry.

Neria did not reply, simply looking at Wynne.

“Ill tell you what, my dear child” Wynne told her then. “Sometimes it gives me comfort to think that everything will end up the way it is supposed to be, that it will be all right. You were chosen, you survived the joining when others did not. It was all meant to be - you were meant to be the Warden, perhaps, you were meant to save us all.”

“You are right,” Neria said after a short pause. “What is one life compared to so many? I shall do my duty.”

Wynne never learned if Neria truly felt this way, or had simply accepted her fate – Neria was a reserved woman, not quick to share her feelings with anyone, even with her old teacher. However, seeing the bright light rise from atop of Fort Drakon, witnessing the darkspawn flee in terror from Denerim gate, and later learning that it was Neria who stroke down the Archdemon, she could not help but feel that maybe it was all a part of the Maker’s plan.

Neria has become much stronger during her time as a Warden, her magical talent flourishing. She ended the Archdemon's life with a spell the like of which none of the mages on top of Fort Drakon has ever seen. No, her becoming a warden was not a waste, it was a blessing. If not to her, then to the rest of us. She saved us all.

“Wynne, Neria asked me to tell you something,” Alistair said, when he first saw her after the battle.

“What was that?” Wynne asked him.

“Perhaps, it was meant to be.”