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It had been one week since Solona’s Harrowing and Jowan’s escape, and the tower still could talk of nothing else.
Personally, Cullen thought Solona had done the right thing by telling Irving what the blood mage was planning. She’d tried to stop it, and it was the First Enchanter’s insistence on catching Lily in the act that had led to the poor outcome.
Unfortunately for Solona, Cullen was the only one in the tower who felt the same.
Greagoir was furious she hadn’t come to him, demanding they assign a templar specifically to watch Solona every day to ensure she wouldn’t try to escape. Unwarranted, Cullen thought, but at least it was a better reaction than that of the mages, who were shunning her for tattling. She couldn’t even find comfort in a teacher - Solona had wanted to learn Spirit Healing, but Wynne had yet to return from Ostagar. Given that Irving was too busy to mentor her himself, that left her basically alone.
Solona had spent every day since then in the exact same way: she’d wake up, eat alone, then find the most isolated spot she could in the library to study magic by herself, her daily Templar standing over her and watching. Cullen was beginning to bristle that it was never him. In fact, Greagoir had removed him from his normal post in her library, so he wasn’t even able to watch her.
It made no sense to him. He’d been trusted at her Harrowing. If she was going to have a dedicated templar, it should have been him. He was determined to finally be chosen, to be able to speak with her.
They gathered around the knight-captain, who had their normal roster. The only assignment in question was Solona. “Right. Greagoir still wants Amell covered for now. Who wants on Irving’s pet today?” There was a ripple of laughter through the men and Cullen tightened his jaw in response.
“Obviously Cullen,” came a voice from the back, “but who’s going to watch her?”
He stared at the floor, face flushing but unable to say anything. He wanted to defend her, at the least, but he couldn't make himself speak.
“Very funny,” the knight-captain replied, “But Greagoir forbid it.” Cullen looked up sharply at that. “Drass, I’ll assign you to babysitting duties. The rest of you proceed as planned. Dismissed.”
Cullen waited for the others to file out of the room before confronting Hadley. “Why won’t Greagoir let me watch Amell?” he asked, aware that he was blushing but needing to know.
“Doesn’t want you two alone together for hours, I suspect,” replied Hadley, his attention gone from Cullen back to the roster. “Talk to him yourself if you want a real answer.”
Cullen turned on a heel, ready to stride out of the room, but he was stopped by Hadley grabbing his arm, who groaned in annoyance at him and added, “I’d leave it, if I were you.”
“Why?” Cullen asked. “He chose me to stand at her Harrowing. She’s my charge. I’m responsible for her -”
“That,” Hadley said, pointing at Cullen, “right there, is the problem. She’s not yours. You don’t own her. We’re all responsible for all of them.” It took all of his will not to snap back that she may as well be his, with how she talked to him after her Harrowing. As angry as he was, he realized that was the last thing that would help his case.
“Fine,” Cullen said, seeing no way around it for now. Fighting to be the one to protect her would just lead to them being separated even further. “But eventually you’ll have to assign me to her. No one else will do it.”
Hadley sighed heavily. “Let’s hope Greagoir changes his mind about assigning her a hound every Maker-blessed day before it comes to that. Get out of here, Cullen. Try to think about something that isn’t Amell.”
As if he could.
The next two days proceeded much in the same way, with Cullen being skipped over and another being assigned to spend the day with Amell. He tried to catch her eye from across the room, but she seemed to understand Greagoir’s implicit demand that she not speak with anyone. He desperately missed the days of her coming up to him to make idle chat.
Finally, an opportunity presented itself one evening when the Templar assigned to Amell approached him.
“Look,” he said, “I’m exhausted, I don’t fancy staring at Amell moping all night. You want to watch her?”
“Yes,” Cullen said instantly. It wasn’t technically going against Greagoir’s wishes - he hadn’t been assigned to her. He was just helping a fellow Templar. The man clapped him on the back, and Cullen took up his abandoned post. It was far enough away from her that she hadn’t even seemed to notice the switch. Amell didn’t look up from her work as the library’s occupants thinned. Eventually, finally, the two of them were alone.
The evening had grown late enough that no one was likely to walk in on them. Everyone was either sleeping or getting ready to. Even the templar assignments patrolling the tower were thin, given the late hour.
Cullen debated speaking up, or walking over to her, but finally her tired face rose from the book. She looked at Cullen with a hooded expression that made his chest clench, her eyes widening as she quickly realized it was him. Her hands twisted nervously in her lap, and he walked over to her, leaving the length of the table between them. He had to prove to himself and Greagoir he could both protect Solona and follow his duty to the order. To him, those things were one and the same.
“I-it’s good to see you,” Cullen managed, marveling at himself that they’d been separated for a week and a half and that was his best opening line. Solona stared at him for a moment before looking down at her clasped hands. She had been picking at the skin around her nails - he could see where she’d been bleeding. Cullen suppressed the urge to cross over to her and take her hands into his own.
“Are you speaking to me now?” she said, picking at one of the wounds on her thumb.
“W-what?” Cullen asked, still feeling a little off balance.
“I’ve had a different templar follow my every move for the last week,” she said, her voice sounding so hurt that he involuntarily took a step towards her. “And it’s never been you. I thought you - You hated me -” her voice cracked with tears and Cullen couldn’t stop himself from closing the distance between them. He nearly put a hand on her back to console her but caught himself at the last moment and placed his hand on the back of her chair.
This close, he could see her exhaustion. The shunning from the mages and scrutiny from the templars had taken a toll on her. She was pale, which made the dark circles under her eyes even more pronounced. It occurred to him that he never saw her at meals more than once a day - had she not been eating?
“No - “ Cullen said, his hand gripping the back of her chair. “I c-could never hate you. You didn’t do anything wrong. They - “ he stopped himself. She looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears and mouth twisted into a miserable expression.
He remembered Hadley’s she’s not yours and stared at her lips. She wasn’t a thing to be owned. Solona Amell was a person, the same as him, and the only difference was, she was in the Circle due to fate. She was so beautiful, and powerful, and he could never remember wanting something more than this. He swallowed. He wouldn’t kiss her. Couldn’t. It was wrong.
“Greagoir didn’t w-want -” Why was it always so hard to find his words around her? “Want me t-to be -” he trailed off, and Solona burst into tears. He couldn’t help himself - he put a hand on her shoulder, needing to offer her some form of comfort. Even if it wasn’t Greagoir’s intention, isolating Solona from the one friendly presence left to her in the circle was hurting her.
She abruptly stood, throwing her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. He couldn’t hear a sound, but her body shook with silent sobbing. He wondered with a pang how often she’d cried like this since Jowan had betrayed her friendship.
Cullen paused for a moment before resting his hands on her back. The armor between them prevented her from pressing too close, and with his gauntlets on he could barely feel the warmth of her back. The only real points of contact were her tear-streaked face on his neck and her hand twining into his hair at the back of his head. He focused on that, the sensation of her fingers curling and uncurling sending a shiver down his spine. Gently, he rubbed a small circle into the middle of her back, hoping it would help.
Solona’s sobbing grew more intermittent until finally she stopped, and the two stood together in an embrace. She took a half-step back, and Cullen let his arms fall to his sides. Solona didn’t release him, her arms still around his neck, one hand still twined in his hair. She looked up at him, gaze intense, as though she were memorizing his features.
Her eyes were red, her face splotchy and the discolor heighted by how pale she was. He didn’t care. He imagined removing his gauntlets, cradling her face in his hands and promising her to set things right. Imagined smoothing her hair, pressing kisses to her eyelids before capturing her lips with his own. Cullen wasn’t strong enough to step out of her embrace, but he at least had the self-restraint to ignore those urges.
“I wanted to touch your hair ever since I first saw you,” she said to him, and he could feel his face grow hot. Cullen cleared his throat, her confession bringing him back to the reality of who and where they were.
“S-sorry,” he said, feeling the urge to flee her again but not able to leave her. Her loneliness was palpable. He wanted her to release him and pull him closer in equal measure. “I’m - t-that was - “ he cleared his throat again, trying not to notice the way she looked at him. “I should - w-we should -”
“Thank you,” she said, so sweet and sincere that he lapsed into silence. “I needed a friend.”
Friend was safe. Friend was a place he could meet her. He was certain Greagoir couldn’t object to a friend.
“I-I’m glad,” he said, knowing he shouldn’t be staring at her but unable to tear his gaze away. Being kept away from her had made his longing even stronger. “I-I’m always here for you. Y-you can talk to me whenever you’d like.”
Her lips gently curved up into a smile - the first he’d seen from her since he ran away after her Harrowing - and he tentatively returned it. “Thank you,” she repeated, finally removing her arms from around him. He missed her already. “I’ll… go back to my room. You don’t need to walk me there. They’ve been leaving once I fall asleep anyway.”
“G-good night,” Cullen replied, unable to say more as she shut her books.
“Good night,” she replied, looking at him one last time before heading back in the direction of her new room.
Cullen watched her leave, feeling conflicted. He understood now why Greagoir refused to assign him to Solona, and at the same time he was desperate to be the only one for her. He mulled it over as he returned to his assigned post. There had to be some way to convince his Commander that, if Solona needed someone with her, it would be him.