Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Tales of a Warden: Emmalyne Amell	By : emmalyneamell Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4707 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or its characters. I receive no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-In The Circle Tower
- 2-The First Night
- 1
- 2
Author's Note:
This is my first submission ever. I just recently started writing Dragon Age/Mass Effect fanfics, and after reading and enjoy many others online, I decided to take the plunge and offer up my own works. If you'd like to review, please please be gentle! Thanks for reading!

        I was alone in my quarters, poring over the tomes I’d borrowed from the Circle library. Lessons had ended for the day, and most of the apprentices were using their free time to roam the halls and gossip amongst themselves. At the other end of the spectrum, the devout Andrastians were no doubt praying for their sins in the chantry; the self-loathing mages who believed their magical gifts were actually a curse of the Maker to be feared.

         As for myself, I was preparing for my upcoming Harrowing ritual. I was filled with apprehension, having no idea what sort of challenges I would face. I’d spent the better part of the afternoon in the library searching for books on an array of subjects: arcane magic, elemental magic, healing magic, Chantry history, Circle history, even a very rare book on the Tevinter Imperium.

          I was determined to get through the Harrowing with flying colors and become a fully-fledged mage of the Circle. First Enchanter Irving had been a great help to me ever since I came to the Circle, an orphan at only nine years old. He’d been nearly like a father to me, always following my progress as I received high marks in all of my magic lessons. But now that it was time for me to end my apprenticeship, the First Enchanter had become suddenly distant, explaining that he was strictly forbidden to aid me in any way, or to give me any clues as to what the Harrowing entails.

   It was forbidden for any senior mage or instructor who had undergone the Harrowing to speak of it to the apprentices. There were terrifying rumors, of course, but the only thing anyone could say for certain was that the ritual itself was very dangerous. It had been said that years ago, long before I came to the Circle, there was a mage who died at their Harrowing. The details of the apprentice’s death were never spoken of, however.

          I was reading about advanced level fire magic when I heard a familiar voice call my name. “Emma, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

         Reluctantly, I looked up from my book. Jowan had come to the Circle some years after myself, though he was two years older than me. Apparently he had shown no signs of magical ability until he was fifteen, when he accidentally started a fire and nearly burned down the cottage where he lived with his mother and father. The terrified parents had sent their son immediately to the Circle, feeling no remorse at seeing him go.

         Like myself, Jowan had very few friends; in all honesty, we were each other’s only friend. While I was ostracized for being the First Enchanter’s “star pupil,” and having little time for anything other than studying, Jowan was shunned for his poor marks and clumsy skills. But while Jowan was unpopular with the other apprentices and the senior mages, at least the instructors liked me.

         The kinship of being outsiders was what bonded us. Jowan and I had become quite close friends over the years, and though many of the other mages suspected we were romantically linked, in truth there was no attraction on either of our parts.

         Jowan came into the room and settled in the simple chair that sat a few feet from my bed, which was piled with the stack of books I’d already finished. The rest of the tomes I’d gathered were towering on my desk. My quarters were small, and cramped, but at least they were private, a perk very few apprentices were given. First Enchanter Irving had seen the need for my solitude when it was resolved that I would soon be going through the Harrowing. The large dormitory most of the apprentice mages shared was too much of a distraction for me to get any real work done.

          I sat at the head of my bed, cross-legged, with the open book on my lap. “Where else would I be, Jowan? My Harrowing is the day after tomorrow. I’ve got to research as much as I can.”

         Jowan chuckled at the sight of all the books. “Maker, did you bring the whole library with you? I doubt the Harrowing involves memorizing...”

         He picked up the nearest book at the top of my desk and read: “Xavier Howl’s Guide to Griffon Training. Haven’t griffons been extinct for ages?”

         “Like I said... the Harrowing is in two days. I’ve no idea what the test involves. I have to be prepared for anything.”

         Jowan stood up and put the book back atop one of the piles. “Well, why don’t you ask your Templar friend, Cullen?”

   Against my will, my face immediately flushed. “Wh-why would I speak to Cullen?” I knew I was stammering, but the mention of Cullen’s name suddenly had my heart fluttering. He was one of the Templars of the Circle in charge of keeping order amongst the mages. While most of the Templars barely spoke two words to us, unless they were the words “move along”, I’d always found Cullen to be quite kind. On several occasions, he and I had shared some memorable conversations together. He seemed a gentle sort of man, and I found it difficult to understand why someone like him would become a Templar.

         It was also true that Cullen was extremely handsome. I’d heard many of the other mages, apprentice and senior mages alike, remark on his striking face, his blonde curls, and his tall, strong figure. Of course I appreciated his good looks, but it was his gentle mannerisms and genuine sweetness that drew me to him. He was a bit shy, often stumbling when he spoke, and rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand when he found himself at a loss for words.

          Of course, it was considered highly inappropriate for a mage and a Templar to fraternize with one another. After all, it was a Templars’ job to keep the mages in line, and to hunt them down if any should try to leave the Circle tower.

   “I see the two of you chatting all the time,” Jowan was saying. “Perhaps he can tell you about the Harrowing. Anyhow, back to the reason I came.” He pulled the chair closer to the bed, so that he was sitting right next to me. There was a sparkle in his eye and a bright grin on his face. And yet, I was worried.

         “I have to tell you something,” Jowan said. “But you must swear not to tell another soul. It’s a deep, deep secret. Do you promise?”

         Amused by Jowan’s childlike enthusiasm, I smiled. “Of course I promise, Jowan. Whom would I tell, anyway?”

         Jowan’s grin widened. “I met a girl, Emma. We’ve been speaking for a few months now. I really like her, and I think she likes me, too.”

         Surprised, but delighted for my friend, I touched his shoulder. “Jowan, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you. But why is that such a big secret? Who is she?”

         Jowan’s expression became suddenly guarded, though the smile was still plastered on his face. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t tell you. Not yet, anyway. It’s just... really complicated right now. Please understand...”

         I felt a jab of wariness at his elusive reply, but I chose not to pry. After all, he seemed so happy, how could I damper his spirits? So I said, “Yes, of course I understand. Just be sure to tell me if there are any wedding plans for the future.”

         Jowan laughed. “Well, it may be a bit soon for that, but Maker willing.” He stood up. “Well, I’ll leave you be. Try not to study too hard, all right?”

         “No promises there.”

         Chuckling, Jowan shook his head. “Well, at least don’t forget to get some sleep tonight. Remember Enchanter Quintus’s exam? You stayed up studying for two nights straight.”

         I shrugged. “Well, I got perfect marks on that magical shielding test, didn’t I? And you nearly had your eyebrows burnt off!”

         Jowan crossed his arms defensively. “I was only barely singed. And they did grow back. Eventually.”

   I stifled a giggle. “I’ll be fine, Jowan. I’ll talk to you later.”

         “Okay, okay, later then.” He gave a little wave before leaving the room. He neglected to close the door behind him, so I stood up to do so. Out in the hallway, the senior mages were lighting the wall sconces, and the Templars on evening duty were taking their posts. It was nearing curfew.

         I glanced back at the piles of books on my desk. I still had a long way to go before I could sleep. Sighing, I closed the door.

The next day

       The hallway was crowded as I made my way through the throng of apprentices, carrying a mound of books as high as my nose. Tomorrow was my Harrowing, and I was frazzled from growing anxiety and lack of sleep. I nearly ran straight-on into one of the head Enchanters as she exited a classroom.

       “Do be careful, Miss Amell!” the older mage said with stern annoyance. But I could not stop, and as I turned my head to call back an apology, I slammed straight into what felt like a solid wall, and the books went toppling to the floor.

       “Oh, I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, not even seeing what I had bumped into as I knelt down hurriedly to gather up the heavy tomes.

       “Emma, are you all right?”

       Startled, I looked up to see Cullen standing over me. I froze for a moment, book in hand, and feeling utterly idiotic as he knelt down to assist me by with picking up the books.

       “Please, I’ll do that,” I insisted, but Cullen continued to gather up the rest of the weighty volumes of magical text.

       “It was my fault,” he said, “I saw you coming but I didn’t say anything.”

       “Oh, no, of course not, I should have been watching where I was going.” We both stood, looking at each other for a moment. Then we both laughed sheepishly at ourselves.

       “Where are you going with all of these, anyway?” Cullen asked.

       “I’m returning them to the library. Most of them, anyway. I still have many more to get through.”

       “Well, er, perhaps I could assist you. I’m not due at my post for another twenty minutes or so.”

       “That would be lovely, thank you.”

       We walked side by side down the hall, our arms full of books. I noticed a few curious glances our way, but I elected to ignore them.

       “I’m just so preoccupied,” I said, breaking the silence. “I was reading all night and I’ve barely slept. My Harrowing is tomorrow...”

       “Yes, I know. I-I mean I heard.” Cullen smiled warmly. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. You’re the best apprentice mage in the Circle, even better than some of the senior mages, I’d wager.”

       I blushed. “I’m not so sure about that. But thank you.” I sighed. “I’m just so worried. If I knew what to expect, how to prepare, at least then I’d feel a little more certain of myself. I wish I could speak to the First Enchanter, but he’s been so busy as of late, and I think he’s deliberately avoiding me.”

       Cullen pursed his lips. “I’m sure that’s not true. Besides, there’s very little he could tell you. The Harrowing is supposed to be kept a secret.”

       “Yes, of course, you’re right. I know.” I closed my eyes, exhaustion weighing heavily on me. “A part of me wishes I could just get it over with, and another part of me wishes that I didn’t have to go through with it at all. I know it’s required for all mages to go through the Harrowing, but why does it have to be kept such a secret?”

       I was asking rhetorically, of course, but I thought I heard Cullen give a sudden intake of breath. I thought his reaction strange, but I was not bold enough to ask him what was the matter. We were coming upon the library now, and we both slowed to a stop next to the door.

       “Well, I had better get to my post,” Cullen spoke in a rush. He gently placed the remaining books on top of the pile I carried. He paused as he looked at me, and I wondered what he was thinking. I mentally remarked how tall he was, at least compared to my petite stature of five feet three inches. I also took a moment to admire how blue his eyes were, and how lovely they looked in the morning light.

       I blinked several times, forcing myself back to the present. “Yes, of course. Thank you so much for your help, Cullen.”

       “You are welcome, Emma,” he said, his voice soft as he smiled gently at me. I loved that he called me that, rather than use my full name, Emmalyne. Jowan was the only other person who called me Emma, but it didn’t have quite the same effect as when Cullen did it. The way he said it somehow seemed so intimate, as if we were...

       It took me a long moment to realize that I was standing alone in the hallway, staring off into space like a fool. Embarrassed, I hurried into the library with my heavy burden before my clumsiness got the best of me again.

       The day came and went, and evening came much too soon. The candle I had lit on my desk was nearly a pool of liquid wax. I was dressed for bed, and should have gone to sleep, but as exhausted as I was sleep was continuing to elude me.

       In only a few hours, I would be facing my Harrowing. So many fears and uncertainties clouded my brain, and caused my body to tense with anxiety. There was no way I would be able to get any quality rest tonight. I wanted to weep, to let all of my stress and fear out in the form of tears, but they just would not come.

       I was certainly going mad.

       I had read all of the books, some of them twice, and yet I still felt no more prepared for tomorrow’s ritual. I kept trying to tell myself that it would be fine, it was only a test, like so many others I had taken and passed with perfect scores. Surely this one would be no different... it wasn’t like it was a matter of life and death.

       Was it?

       Oh, Maker, I had never even considered that until now! What if the Harrowing was, in fact, something I might not live through? After all, there have been records of mages dying during a Harrowing. But surely those had been special circumstances, not a common occurrence. Yet how could I know, not knowing exactly what the Harrowing was?

       I was in a panic now, my heart racing and my breath becoming short. I tried to breath evenly, take deep, sucking gasps of air. I attempted to reassure myself, mentally chanting, You’re all right, it’s all right, you’re just being silly, of course you’re not going to die, you will be fine...

       My breathing finally evened out, and I felt immediately foolish. I was a good mage... no, a great mage, and I would do just fine at my Harrowing, whatever the test may be. There was no need to be so worked up, I just had to relax, get some rest, and everything would be fine.

       But I have to know.

       I knew it was true. I had to know what the Harrowing was. One of the books I’d read had discussed the controversy surround the Harrowing rituals, as a number of scholar mages believed that the Harrowing was a cruel, unnecessary, and dangerous ceremony that should have been stopped years ago.

       What if it were true? What if the Harrowing was wrong?

       I have to speak to the First Enchanter. Surely he can help assuage my fears.

       It was after curfew, at least by a few hours, but my mind was made up. Perhaps I could sneak down the hallway to the back stairs. They were not far from my room, and the Templars almost never guarded them. They led up to the library, and the library was adjoined with First Enchanter Irving’s office.

       I quickly grabbed my dressing gown and threw it on over my sleeping gown. The sleeping gown itself was thin and made of silk, but the dressing gown was warm and lined with velvet, so it would keep me warm in the cold stone halls, and I would be at least halfway presentable.

       Quietly, I opened the door and peered out into the hallway. There were two Templars in the hall; one of them on guard just outside the female apprentices’s main dormitory, and another at the far end of the hall guarding the main stairs. They were to my right; the back stairs were to the left.

       I stood and stared through the slight opening in the door for what felt like hours, but was mostly likely only minutes. The Templar guarding the main stairway was on the very far end of the hall, and would surely not present a problem. The guard outside the dormitory, however, would surely see me the moment I stepped out of my room.

       Maker, help me, I prayed.

       And by some miracle, He must have heard me, because someone called for the second Templar at the other end of the hall, and he turned his back to me as he proceeded toward the direction of the commanding voice.

       Quickly, I slipped out of the room and closed the door soundlessly behind me. I wore nothing on my feet, and so they made no sound as I rushed down the hall toward the back stairs. Blessedly, the door to the stairway was unlocked, and I pushed it open and slipped through.

       The stairway was pitch black, and I cursed myself for forgetting to bring a lamp, or at least a candle. But I had taken the stairs many times before, and I knew that after the first set of stairs, there would be a landing, then a turn to the right, more stairs, and then the second landing would be lit by a sconce right next to the library door.

       I ran up the steps as quickly as I could, my bare feet slapping against the stone steps, but I no longer worried about making noise. Nobody ever guarded these stairs, not even at night. At least that was what I thought.

       “Who goes there!”

       I gasped and stopped immediately in my tracks. I had made it to the first landing, and quickly I placed my back against the wall and tried to hide in the shadows. There was a long silence, and I held my breath. In horror, I saw a flickering light at the top of the second set of stairs, and it was getting closer.

       Panicked, I tried quickly to think. Perhaps if I ran back down, I could make it to the door before whoever it was could see me. But then I would have to run back to my room, and surely by now the Templar from the hallway was back in his post. Andraste’s blood, I was surely done for!

       The light was getting closer, and now I could hear footsteps. I turned and started to race back down the stairs, for it was all I could do now rather than wait to be caught. But then the voice called again.

       “Stop! You there! Stop now, or else!”

       The male voice was commanding, and yet it wavered, as if unsure of itself. I heard the sound of a sword being drawn behind me, and struck cold with fear, I froze on the steps. The light was illuminating the stairway now, and I knew the owner of the voice could see me, standing still like a frightened rabbit.

       Surely, they would not use their sword? I was no maleficar, I had given them no reason to attack me, I was simply out passed curfew. Tears welled in my eyes, but I closed my eyelids before they could fall. “Please,” I said softly, my voice shaking. “I’m sorry, I meant no harm. I just needed to see the First Enchanter.”

       There was a long pause. And then...

       “Emma?”

       Oh, Maker, no.

       Slowly, I turned around.

       “Cullen?” Maker, what must he think of me, sneaking around in the dark after curfew? “Cullen, I’m so sorry, I just had to speak to Irving, I have to know about the Harrowing...”

       My words came out in a single rush of breath, and I was on the verge of sobbing. Cullen abruptly shushed me, and I watched as he made his way down to the bottom of the staircase, carrying a lantern in one hand and his sword in the other. He pushed the door open slightly, peering down the hallway, then closed it. Then he rushed passed me up the stairs, and I saw him look around the corner toward the second landing. Apparently all was well, and he came back down to meet me, setting the lantern into a small alcove in the wall.

       “Emma, what were you thinking?” His look was one of both concern and anger, much to my chagrin. “It is far passed curfew, you could get in serious trouble. And the night before your Harrowing, no less!”

       More tears sprang to my eyes, and I cursed myself for feeling so helpless. “Cullen, I c-can’t do it, I can’t go through with the Harrowing,” I stammered. “Not without knowing what I’m facing. I came to find Enchanter Irving, to plead with him to tell me what I must do, or possibly to beg him for a postponement, or something, I don’t know...” I was rambling now, but I didn’t know what else to do. I wiped the tears from my eyes, struggling to get a hold of myself.

       I stared down at the floor, unable to look him in the eye. Then a heavy sigh came from Cullen.

       “Maker help me. I could be stripped of my Templar uniform for this, but I cannot stand to see you so upset.”

       Confused, I looked up at Cullen. He was rubbing the back of his neck, as he did so often when he was nervous. Then he lowered his gaze on me, and his expression softened.

       “You will be going into the Fade,” he said.

       Shocked, I could only stare dumbly at him. “The Fade?” I said finally. Cullen nodded.

       “But why?” I asked. “What must I do there?”

       “It is mostly likely you will face a demon.”

       “A- a demon? But what am I to do? Must I fight it?”

       Cullen shook his head. “I don’t know. I... I believe that it may try to tempt you somehow. You must overcome the temptation, as that will be part of your test, no doubt.”

       I thought this over in silence for a moment. Face a demon? Could I truly do that? But what if...

       “What if I fail?” I asked Cullen. “What if I... become an abomination?”

       It was every mages’ worst fear. Being possessed by a demon from the Fade, becoming a monster. Maker, I would rather die!

       Cullen visibly swallowed, then paused to clear his throat. “That is how I know what the Harrowing is. I’ve been assigned to attend yours; my first, in fact. If for some reason, you were to... change... then it will be my duty as a Templar to strike you down.”

       I choked on a sob that came to my throat. Horrified, I took a step back from Cullen. There was a look of deep sorrow in his eyes, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

       “Cullen,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “You... but, I thought...”

       Stricken by grief, I could no longer hold back my tears. I wept openly, sinking to one of the steps, curling my knees up to my chest and my back against the hard stone wall. I held my hands up to my mouth, struggling to muffle my sobs.

       “Emma, please, don’t cry!” Cullen knelt down in front of me, taking my hands in his. He lifted me to my feet, and I immediately fell against his chest. His armor was cold and hard, but I didn’t care, as I wept with my face pressed against him. After a moment of uncertainty, I felt Cullen wrap his arms around me.

       Cullen held me for what seemed an eternity as I cried tears of rage, sorrow, and fear against him. How could they? How could they force me to face a demon, to have Cullen, of all people, be the one to kill me if I failed? The injustice of it all was just too much!

       “It’s not my choice,” Cullen said softly, holding me tightly against him. “I swear it, I would never have asked for this. Besides, I have faith in you, there will be no need of me, you’ll do fine, I’m certain of it!”

       Cullen gently pushed me away at arms’ length, though still holding onto my upper arms. I lifted my eyes to look at him, and I saw him give me a sad smile. Oh, Cullen, sweet, gentle Cullen, even now he would try to comfort me, knowing what he had to do.

       I sniffled like a child as Cullen lifted a gloved hand to dry the tears from my cheeks. I wanted to laugh bitterly, knowing how childish and awful I must look; red nosed, red eyes, no doubt I must look a sight. But Cullen did not seem to notice, he only brushed the last of the wetness from my face and tenderly rested his hand on my cheek.

       Our eyes met, and we stared at one another for a very long time. My heart raced, and though I should have been cold in the dark stairway, my whole body felt flushed with heat. His hand was still on my cheek, and though he wore leather gloves, the contact felt so intimate that I nearly shivered.

       “Cullen,” I whispered. I didn’t know what to say, so I stopped there.

       Cullen’s gaze lowered briefly, and I suddenly realized that the sash on my dressing robe had come undone, and was now open to reveal my thin nightgown. I blushed, my first instinct to quickly close the robe, but I resisted, a part of me wanting him to look at me, wanting him to find me beautiful.

       “Maker forgive me,” Cullen whispered, and before I could ask him what for, he leaned his head down and covered my mouth with his.

       I gasped audibly, knowing that I should push him away, but I was overcome by the feeling of his soft lips against mine. I had been kissed only once before; strangely enough, by Jowan, but we had both been only children and were curious about what it was like. It had been an awkward act for both of us, and we decided after that that there was no chance of us ever being romantic together.

       But this was different- oh, so different. Cullen’s lips were soft and warm, and so very inviting. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, resting my hands on his neck. Instinctively, I opened my mouth ever-so-slightly, and I heard Cullen make a sound like a low growl in his throat. I felt the tip of his tongue touch mine, and I gasped. He must have mistook me, for his tongue quickly drew back, but I reassured him by shyly moving my own tongue to stroke against his.

       Cullen moaned, and he moved his head slightly to deepen the kiss. His hands moved around to my back, pulling me closer, and I lifted up my toes in order to reach him better. We stood there for an eternity, kissing each other with my back against the wall, barely able to keep our balance on the steps. I moved my hands upward to run my fingers through Cullen’s tightly curled hair, and was amazed by how soft it was.

       Cullen’s gentleness began to wane as his lips moved hungrily on mine, his tongue sliding deeper into my mouth. Our breathing became labored, both of us gasping for air, yet unable to pull away from each other. Cullen’s hands moved from my back to my waist, and I wished that he was not wearing his armor, as it prevented us from getting closer to one another.

       I was surprised suddenly when one hand moved up from my waist and went to cup my breast. I had rather large breasts, something that I had always felt self-conscious about. I’d reached womanhood at an early age, and had endured a number of snickering and whispers from other apprentices about the maturity of my body. And so, reflexively, I grasped Cullen’s wrist and pulled his hand away.

       Abruptly, much to my disappointment, Cullen wrenched his lips from mine and took his hands off of me as though I had burned him. “Maker, Emma, I’m so sorry! This was a mistake, I shouldn’t be doing this, you’re a mage, and I’m….”

       He covered his face with his hands and sighed heavily. Distraught, I tried to think of something to say. He was right, of course, we should not be doing this. He could lose his Templarhood, be kicked out of the Circle. I did not wish that for him. And yet, my body ached for him, and my heart felt as though it would burst if he did not kiss me again.

       “Cullen, I… I want you.” My voice was barely a whisper, and I knew I was pleading with him. “I know we shouldn’t, but… If I were to die tomorrow, my one regret would be not being with you tonight.”

       My words surprised even me. I had never been with a man, of course, I had spent far too much time locked away with my books. But now that it seemed my mortality loomed before me, I realized that I did not wish to die without knowing the touch of a man. Without knowing him.

       Cullen removed his hands from his face to look at me with bright eyes, a mixture of surprise and desperation in them. Then his hands cupped my face, and he lowered his head to gently kiss my forehead. “Oh, Emma,” he said softly, “I want you, too, so badly I can hardly stand it.” His finger tipped my chin up so he could look at me. “Are you certain this is what you want? You know that it is forbidden for a Templar and a mage to be together?”

       I smiled up at him, lifting my own hand to touch his. “Yes, I know. I don’t care.”

       A wide smile spread across his handsome face, and Cullen leaned down to kiss me again, softly, on the lips. It lasted only a moment, and then he took my hand and began leading me down the stairs.

       We stopped at the door and Cullen looked out first, keeping me hidden. After a moment, he pulled me out into the hallway. Surprisingly, the Templar guards were nowhere to be seen, though I heard quiet voices in the distance. Hand in hand, we rushed down the hall, Cullen nearly passing my quarters until I pulled gently to lead him through the door into my room. He closed the door quietly behind us.

       I let go of Cullen’s hand finally, walking away from him to light another candle on my desk. The old one was barely a lump of wax, so I blew it out and lit a few more. Behind me I heard Cullen removing his armor, the shuffle and clunk of metal as he attempted to do so quietly.

       Taking a deep breath, I removed my dressing robe, then draped it over the back of the nearby chair. Slowly, I turned around, feeling suddenly naked, though I still wore my nightgown. I was worried that Cullen would not find my body attractive; that I would not be slender enough or tall enough. I had never considered myself to be pretty, nor had I cared if anyone else thought so or not- until now.

       Cullen had managed to strip down to a white tunic and breeches, his armor and sheathed sword in a pile on the floor. I saw him staring at me, and a part of me wished he would stop, afraid he was assessing me, perhaps silently judging me. His eyes pored over me for so long that I wrapped my arms around myself as a shield.

       “I’m sorry,” Cullen said suddenly. “I know I was staring, it’s just… by the Maker, you are lovely!” He stepped forward and placed his hands on my arms, gently caressing the bare skin. He had removed his gloves, and I could feel his warm, calloused hands on me, and the skin-to-skin contact made me shiver.

       “You’re cold?” Cullen asked softly.

       I shook my head. As I looked up at him, I saw his face was so close to mine, his mouth just inches away, and I longed to taste his lips once more. Shyly, I lifted my face to press my lips against his. Cullen groaned, wrapping his arms around me and parting my mouth with his tongue. He tasted musky and sweet, like wine. I placed my hands on his chest, longing to touch his bare skin, but his cotton tunic barred me. So my hands went to his neck, my fingers finding the baby hairs at the base and stroking them gently.

       With heated breath, Cullen’s mouth moved from my lips to trace my jawline, and then he began kissing my neck, using his tongue to taste my skin. I sighed with pleasure as I tilted my head back and ran my fingers through his hair. Then his head moved lower to the swell of my breasts, and his hands lifted them through my nightgown as he kissed the tops of the mounds. I cried out softly, my breath catching when Cullen pulled the thin straps of my gown down over my shoulders and arms.

       The cold night air made me shudder as my breasts were bared, the silk gown settling around my waist. Cullen proceeded to lift the heavy mounds of flesh with his hands, and I gasped when his tongue flicked against one of the hardened nipples. He thoroughly licked one and then moved to the other, and I cried out his name as he sucked the tip into his mouth.

       His lips still latched onto my breast, Cullen lifted me up by my waist and carried me over to the bed. He laid me down gently on the mattress, removing his mouth finally from me as he rushed to pull the nightgown over my hips and down my legs, removing it completely and tossing the fabric to the side. I watched as he sat up, and with impressive swiftness, he pulled the tunic over his head and threw it away. I had only a moment to marvel at his muscled chest, shoulders, and abdomen, before Cullen leaned down to kiss me once again, hungrily thrusting his tongue into my mouth.

       Our bare chests rubbed against one another, and I relished the amazing sensation. He had just a touch of hair on his broad chest, and the friction of the tiny hairs on my skin felt wonderful. I moved my hands over his shoulders, arms, and back. Beneath Cullen’s trousers I felt something poke against my belly, and curious, I reached down to touch it. Cullen moaned, and feeling bold, I stroked the erection slowly, then gently squeezed.

       “Maker’s breath, you must stop, or I’ll come too soon,” Cullen growled against my lips, and I quickly pulled my hand away. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I did not want to upset him. So I caressed his arms once again, admiring the toned muscles. Templar training must be rigorous, I thought.

       I had never felt anything like this in my life. My entire body was on fire as Cullen kissed and touched my bare skin, his fingers stroking my flesh and bringing it to life. His lips kissed my neck again, and his tongue swirled over my earlobe. I moaned with pleasure, thinking that I could die here and be completely happy.

       Then Cullen’s fingers moved lower, stroking against my thigh. He gently moved my legs apart, and suddenly his fingers were caressing the soft mound of skin covered by curled hairs. No one had ever touched me there before…I had never touched myself there before, except when I bathed. Even so, I had never realized how sensitive I was there, until Cullen gently pushed his finger inside. I gasped, my back arching at this unexpected twinge of feeling.

       Gently, Cullen slid his finger over me, and I gasped again and grabbed onto his shoulders. I could feel that I was getting wet and sticky, and I wondered if that was normal. Cullen continued to slowly stroke me there, until he found a place that made me cry out loudly in surprise.

       “Shh,” Cullen whispered. “You must try to be quieter, lest someone should hear us.”

       “I- I can’t help it! What are you doing to me?”

       Cullen chuckled softly. “Perhaps I should stop…” he teased.

       “No, no please, don’t stop. I… I like it.”

       I felt myself blushing with embarrassment, but Cullen only smiled. “Very well. But you must try not to be so loud, Emma. Try biting your fist.”

       “Yes… all right.”

       Slowly, Cullen began sliding his fingers over me again. I moaned softly, closing my eyes and struggling to catch my breath. When he found that secret place once again, a tiny spot at the top of the crevice, I took his advice and had to bite down on my fist to keep from shouting.       The sensation was both maddening and wonderful, and I muffled my cries the best I could as Cullen continued toying with me, rubbing his fingers against the nub. I felt something building inside me, a wave of feeling that swelled up, the pressure so intense that I thought I might scream.

       “Cullen!” I cried out, as the enormous pressure crashed against me like giant waves upon a shore, and I had to sink my teeth into my hand to keep from screaming.

       At last it was over, and I gasped to catch my breath and steady my racing heart. Cullen removed his fingers from me, and I watched as he untied the front of his breeches and rushed to discard them. The protruding limb I’d noticed before was now visible, large and standing stiffly from between his legs. I’d known that men had such a part that they used to urinate, but I had never actually seen one… and I had no idea that it could do that.

       Both of us were naked now. I reached out to Cullen, hoping for another kiss, but there was a look of hunger and determination in his eyes now that could not be deterred. He grasped my hips, settling himself between my legs. Then he reached down to grasp himself, and I gasped as he rubbed the tip of his member against the portal between my thighs. He used the fingers of his other hand to spread the lips of my vagina open wider, and before I could discern what was happening, Cullen thrust himself into me.

       Forgetting the need for secrecy, I cried out, not in pleasure, but agony.

       The shooting pain was so sharp and sudden, and completely unexpected. Why did it hurt so much? It felt like I was being split in two, and unwillingly tears came to my eyes.

       “Emma!” Cullen exclaimed. “Are you all right? Oh, Maker, you’re… of course you are, how could I be so stupid? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking, does it hurt very badly?”

       I couldn’t speak for several moments, struggling to ease the pain by taking long, deep breaths. Slowly, the sharpness dulled to an ache, and I could breath normally. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I just didn’t know it was going to hurt so much. I feel better now, really.”

       “Oh, Emma, forgive me! We can stop, if you wish.”

       A part of me wanted to stop, was afraid that there would be more pain. But as I looked into Cullen’s eyes, I could see the strain he was feeling, holding himself so still, while still inside me. There was sweat on his brow, and he seemed to be holding his breath. Was he in pain as well? Perhaps it was different for him.

       No. I wanted this. Needed it. Needed him.

       “It’s all right,” I whispered. “Don’t stop. Just… try to go more slowly, please.”

       A look of relief washed over Cullen’s face as he exhaled a heavy breath, and he nodded. Slowly, he began to move, and I cringed at the anticipation of more pain. There was none, however, much to my relief. In fact, as he moved inside me, I began to feel more relaxed, enjoying it more and more. I sighed and wrapped my arms around him, pulling his head down to kiss his lips. Cullen moaned and kissed me back, as he steadily, gently, increased his pace.

       Then Cullen lifted his head, grinding his hips and moving deeper and faster inside me. I watched in fascination as he squeezed his eyes shut, and his breathing became heavy and sporadic. He thrust into me, hard, as his body tensed and his face was frozen in what seemed like a silent scream. Then he exhaled with a low groan, and I felt his body relax. He collapsed on top of me, resting his head on my chest and taking deep breaths. I stroked his hair, as though comforting a child, and waited.

       Finally, Cullen lifted himself up, and slowly slid out of me, as both of us exhaled heavy sighs. He looked down at me and touched my cheek, his gaze searching.

       “Are you all right?” he asked tenderly.

       I wasn’t quite sure how to answer. I felt strange; I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. I was a different person now, in a way, and I wondered if Cullen felt the same.

       At last I said, “Yes, I’m all right. What about you?”

       An odd expression suddenly washed over Cullen’s face, and I thought he looked almost sad. “I… I’m fine.” His tone was dull, emotionless, and an anxious feeling came over me. He sat up on the bed, swinging his legs over the side and placing his feet on the floor. I rolled over onto my side, watching him, as he stared off into the distance. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what. Why was he suddenly so distant, so cold? Had I done something wrong?

       “I should go,” Cullen finally spoke. “I need to get back to my post before someone suspects.”

       He stood and quickly dressed, putting on his armor faster than I thought possible. I sat up in the bed, covering my nakedness with a blanket. A feeling of fear washed over me, and I felt suddenly ashamed. We both knew that what we’d done was forbidden, and yet we had done it anyway. I didn’t regret it, not really, and yet… what if we were discovered? What if Cullen was kicked out of the Templars? I wasn’t so much worried for myself, but I didn’t think I could take the guilt if something were to happen to him.

       “Cullen?” I said softly, watching as he tied his sword belt around his waist.

       He finished adjusting his sword, then turned to look at me. I stared at him, as though asking a silent question, wishing I knew what he was thinking. Cullen gave me a soft smile, but it didn’t have the warmth that his smiles normally did, and it worried me.

       “Your Harrowing is in the morning,” he said simply. “You should get some rest.”

       Then he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

The day of the Harrowing came and went, with Emmalyne Amell passing with no trouble. The events that followed would change her life forever. With the discovery that her friend, Jowan, was in love with a Chantry priest named Lily, Emmalyne agreed to assist them in escaping from the Circle. However, the three were caught, and Jowan revealed himself to be a blood mage, a maleficar who uses forbidden magics that include blood sacrifice. While Greagoir, the Templar commander, insisted that Emmalyne receive the most severe punishment, it was instead decided that she be conscripted into the Grey Wardens. Soon after this decision, Emmalyne speaks to Cullen one last time.
      It didn’t take long to pack up my belongings; it wasn’t as though I had much to begin with. I had only two sets of robes (one of which I was wearing). I had two books in my satchel- one was titled How to Serve Man with Magic, and Not Rule Over Him, and the other was blank; a journal that had been gifted to me by Enchanter Irving long ago, but I had never written in. Now that I was to begin my new life as a Grey Warden, I thought that now would be as good a time as any to begin writing in it. There were a few other odds and ends, such as a few pairs of undergarments, a magical amulet, some health poultices, and lyrium. I also carried with me the staff that had been awarded to me after completing the Harrowing.

       Even with so little on my person, my bedroom seemed so empty. There were no books scattered on the desk or chair, no candles, no glass bottles and flasks filled with potions that I’d so often experimented with. The bed had been stripped of blankets and pillow, making ready for the next mage to move in.

       A deep sadness, like a crashing wave, washed over me. The Circle was no longer my home. There was truly no place I belonged now.

       I took a deep, steadying breath. I was grateful to Duncan, the Grey Warden, for conscripting me, for saving me from imprisonment or worse. And yet, even though I was being cast of the Circle as a disgrace, I would forever miss this place. All the hours I spent studying in my rooms, all the talks with Jowan, and the discussions with Irving… they would never happen again.

       And Cullen…

       Would I ever see him again? Would we ever find a way to be together? I knew in my heart it was impossible, but still a glimmer of hope lit up inside me like a dying flame. Perhaps, once all of this was over, somehow, we could find a way…

       Behind me the door creaked open. I turned slowly, expecting to find Duncan, or perhaps the First Enchanter, arriving to tell me that it was time to leave. I was reluctant to leave so soon, but I knew there was nothing left for me here.

       But as I turned around, it was not Irving or Duncan I faced, but Cullen.

       I smiled, feeling a swell of happiness despite myself. He had come to wish me farewell! Thank the Maker, I was worried I would not have the chance to see him again!

       “Cullen!” I wanted to rush forward, to embrace him, but his posture gave me pause. He was dressed in full Templar armor, and his stance was defensive, slightly off to the side, rather than facing me directly. His hands were in fists down at his sides, and he would not look me in the eye. His mouth was creased into a frown.

       He was silent for a long while, staring off into the distance, refusing to look at my face. “Cullen?” I said again, softly, questioningly, wondering what was on his mind.

       At last, he spoke.

       “You willingly helped a blood mage.”

       The ice in his voice froze me to my very core, and I was frozen to the spot. I did not answer, I only stared at him, willing him to look at me. At last, his face turned toward me, and my blood turned cold at the look of pure disgust in his expression.

       At first, I was awash in feelings of guilt. Jowan’s betrayal had hit everyone hard, myself most of all, and I knew that I had broken so many rules in order to help him; something I had never done in all my years at the Circle. But then, my shame turned to defensiveness, as I felt anger rise in my throat.

       “I did not help a blood mage, I helped my friend!” I exclaimed. “I had no idea Jowan was a maleficar.”

       A scornful laugh burst from Cullen, a single, staccato sound, bitter and ugly. “You had to have known! He was your…. friend, was he not? The two of you were in on it together. You broke through locked doors you knew were forbidden to you. You helped him to destroy his phylactery, for Andraste’s sake! Now it will be impossible for us to track him down!”

       Tears stung my eyes, and I struggled not to let them fall. “I only wished to help Jowan be with the woman he loved! Can’t you sympathize with that, even a little?”

       How could he be so callous, so unforgiving? I looked deeply into his eyes, begging him without words to understand. After all, didn’t he and I have feelings for one another? Didn’t that night we shared mean anything to him?

       As though reading my thoughts, Cullen turned his face away, which had become suddenly pale.

       With shame?

       “That night was a mistake,” Cullen stated, flatly, emotionless.

       His words were a knife in my heart. All the love and affection I had borne for him, all the pain and uncertainty, the torture of knowing we could never truly be together… it had all meant nothing? I blinked in astonishment, and one of the tears I had been holding back escaped and fell slowly down my cheek.

       “How can you say that?” The words were barely a whisper, a croak from my throat, as my eyes fell to the floor.

       “I am a Templar,” Cullen stated, simply, his words filled with conviction. “I have a duty to the Order. My… infatuation with you was nothing but a foolish distraction. I should have been stronger. I should have…” His face twisted into something that looked like a mixture of shame and disgust. But it was gone quickly, replaced with a cold certitude. “I will never make such a foolish error again. Farewell, Miss Amell.”

       With that, he turned and marched out. Desperately, I raced after him into the hallway, but he was already disappearing around the corner.

       “Cullen! Wait, please!” I called out.

       There were several onlookers in the hallway who turned and stared- mages and Templars alike, though I did not notice.

       But Cullen was gone.

       At least I could feel the eyes on me, looking at me strangely, judgmentally. Feeling suddenly ashamed, I went back into the room and closed the door.

       It was dark, save for a single lit sconce on the wall. And in that dark room, I sank onto the hard stone floor, curled up against the wall, and wept. I sobbed openly, not caring that I could be heard by those out in the hall. I let out all my pain, my anguish, my heart bleeding openly. I cried until my face was soaked with tears, my nose dripping with snot, and I didn’t care, and still I cried some more. It may have been minutes, or hours, I could not tell.

       Finally, the tears stopped.

       And I knew what I had to do.

       I had to move on. This life I knew was over. I was leaving it behind me, forever, and beginning a new life, as a Grey Warden. I had no idea what sort of journey lay before me, but I could not cling to the past. I could not let it defeat me.

       And so, with new found resolve, I took one last moment. One moment to think on all that had happened: the night with Cullen, the Harrowing, the discovery of Jowan being a blood mage, Knight-Commander Greagoir’s accusations, and the disappointed face of my mentor, First Enchanter Irving.

       And Cullen, rejecting me, turning his back, claiming that the night we shared meant nothing, that it was a mistake.

       I took all of those things, and in my mind I combined them into a single, shining ball of concentrated matter.

       And I let them go.

       Taking a deep, shaky breath, I stood up from the floor, and I picked up my traveling satchel and my magic staff. Duncan had said he would be waiting for me by the Circle’s entrance. I opened the door, walked out into the hall, and made my way to meet him there.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tales of a Warden: Emmalyne Amell