Chapter Text
Cullen forced his eyes open again and the woman poured more of the cool water over them. She was murmuring softly in his ear and his reaction to that, coupled with the fact that she was cradling him in her arms one hand idly stroking his cheek, was unexpected… Not because she was hideous—far from it—and not because he didn’t have desires (all men did) but his reaction to a woman he’d not met? An accused mage? His reaction was as a young (ish) man, not the response that a templar should be having. Honestly though, if she were actually a mage, she would have likely taken the opportunity—his incapacitation—and she would have ran. He blinked again, once again taken back by the resemblance she had to Hawke. ‘How is that even possible?’ He closed his eyes again, letting them water a bit and slowly clear a little. When he looked up, his eyes finally focusing a bit he met her gaze. Green eyes. He realized that she did resemble Hawke—but not as much as his first glance of her had initially seemed. She had a… softness that he had rarely seen and… and definitely not in Hawke. He saw her lips move, and realized belatedly that she was saying something to him, he finally caught, “How does it feel?” her words were soft enough that he was certain he was the only one who heard it.
He took quick assessment of himself. Head pounding? Check. Throat sore and raw? Check. Eyes feeling tender and still burning? Check. As it were he would survive… He’d survived worse, after all. “I’ll live.” He stated, his voice barely more than a croak.
“Knight Captain?” One of his men coughed, “Are you alright Ser?”
His man’s voice reminded him that he wasn’t alone with her. Not that he needed to be—or wanted to be, of course… He sat up, forcing himself not to scowl at the younger man simply for showing concern. “I’ll be fine.” He coughed, trying to clear his throat.
“Ser, the woman,” Karras said, “She must be punished.”
Cullen glanced at the woman who was shivering now, still crouched down in the snow with so few clothes (such odd clothes). He had never seen clothes remotely close to what the girl wore. He realized though that Karras was right. Cullen would have to investigate—and until they found out for certain if she was a mage or not, she would have to be punished. She’d attacked one of his men… Some part of his mind though sputtered over the ‘punish her’ and returned with some mental images that caused the tiniest bit of a blush to cross his cheeks. Fortunately it was cold enough outside that he, if asked, could attribute it to the weather. “Take her to the holding cells.” He ordered.
Green eyes widened, “What?!” she cried, “No!”
“She will remain there until such time as I determine whether or not she is a mage.”
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Betrayal burned across her face as she stared at him when Karras said, “Excellent.” He then came forward and wrenched her up by one arm which he twisted awkwardly behind her to keep her struggling to a minimum. She stopped moving immediately, not wanting to do actual permanent damage to her shoulder. “Let’s get you to your new, temporary home, mage.”
“I. Am. Not. A. Mage. Jackhole.” She bit off, “If I were, you can guarantee I would be electrocuting your ass by now.” She jerked, as he tightened his grip—It obviously hurt, “I can walk just fine by myself, thank you very much.”
Karras’ used his free hand to grab her by the hair, releasing her arm. He pulled her close to him, muttering into her hair, “Keep pushing your luck girl. You’ll see first hand what happens to smart mouth mages in the Gallows.”
She was fairly certain that if it weren’t for Cullen standing watching him, the words would have been accompanied by something violent or creepy. Despite that fact (ok, so maybe because of it) she said, “Right. And when it’s proven that I’m not a mage—and it will be proven that I’m not—I’ll show you just what happens to douchebag templars who like to abuse their power.”
Cullen blinked, not understanding one of the words that she’d used except he could tell that it was derogatory. That said—he didn’t approve of the way that Karras was treating her. The woman hadn’t done anything to Karras specifically but he was being especially hateful to her. “Release her Karras. I will escort her to the cells myself.” She was still scowling.
Karras’ grip on her hair tightened minutely—enough so that she thought that he was going to rip a large chunk out of her head. “But Knight Captain, ser, is that wise? Should she attack you? Has your vision returned to normal?”
Cullen frowned at the lower ranking man, unappreciative of him questioning his orders, “I can see just fine.” He stated, a small fib, “and I am perfectly capable of fending off one possible apostate.” Karras had definitely forgotten the stories that he had to have heard regarding Cullen’s time in Ferelden. An apostate was really the least of his worries, and he still wasn’t convinced that this girl was one. “Ser Karras.” His gaze leveled where the elder man still held the woman by her hair.
The red haired templar did not look happy, but released his grip on the woman’s hair, “As you wish Knight Captain.” He muttered to her, “Thank your stars mage.” He turned and stalked across the Gallows pretty undoubtedly furious that his ‘charge’ had been taken from him.
Cullen unconsciously sighed, unsure how Karras had been accepted into the order. They didn’t usually accept children. She had turned her scowl fully on him now, her posture straight and rigid as they walked back into the hallway that led to his office and the holding cells. The scent of pepper spray still lingered in the air. Cullen opened a doorway across from his office, which held three small cells. Small to the point that if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to lay down in them. No bed. Just a five by five with a bucket for waste. He opened the barred door, allowing her to walk in then shut it behind her. He stood watching her for a long moment, and she stared impassively back at him. She felt her lips pull when she couldn’t help but tell him, “You really need to wash your hands. That spray sticks to things—if you touch your eyes it’s going to irritate them all over again.” Even though she was well and thoroughly ticked off, she wasn’t generally mean and she didn’t want him going through that a second time.
Cullen looked surprised, then looked down at his hands, “Thank you.” He said softly.
She gave him a half hearted smile, shivered, then sat heavily on the floor in one of the corners. “Anytime. Thanks for not letting your guy rip anymore hair out of my head.” She wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. Cullen got an eyeful of leg, before dutifully averting his eyes and stepping out of the room. She sighed, tilting her head down so it was her forehead resting on her knees then.
When he walked back in, she glanced up having heard him. He offered her a blanket between the bars, “Here. Most of the rooms here are drafty; this one is just as bad… with your clothes… You’ll need this.”
“Thank you.” She said softly, pushing herself to her feet and walking closer to take the blanket.
He caught her hand, not harsh or painfully, but enough to keep her from moving away again for the moment, “What is your name?” ‘Of all the questions you could ask, that’s the one you choose?’ he thought to himself—but for the moment it was what he wanted to know most.
“Gwen.”
‘Gwen. It’s fitting.’ A very unusual name, but pretty. He started to introduce himself, then realized something… His grip tightened, not quite painfully, but to get her attention and it was close, “How did you know my name?”