The Essence, a dragon age fanfic

A/N: In an effort to get me to write more, I'm listening to a random song a day in the hopes that it will spark something in me. Today's selection happened to spark an idea that fell within the DA cannon. The song was "Rev. 22:20" by Puscifer. I will post the full lyrics at the bottom for anyone curious.

(Pray)
'Til I go blind
(Pray)
'Cause nobody ever survives
Prayin' to stay in her arms just until I can die a little longer
Saviors and saints, devils and heathens alike
She'll eat you alive

Jesus is risen, it's no surprise
Even he would martyr his mama to ride to hell between those thighs
The pressure is building at the base of my spine
If I gotta sin to see her again then I'm gonna lie, lie, lie

-Rev. 22:20 by Puscifer-

Cullen's hands gripped the hilt of sword tighter in rage and fear. The bodies of his fellow templars lay managed in the underbrush of the clearing. He was all the remained of the hunting party sent out to retrieve an apostate blood mage.

"Stand down, Edmund, by order of the chantry!" He called out to his foe, knowing the words would fall on deaf ears. The mage said nothing but grinned at him, the magic pulsing around him in a fiery blue cloud. Cullen grimaced and charged at the man, sword held across his torso for protection. Edmund laughed and darted out of the way, but he was simply to slow, and Cullen managed to score a dark red line across the mage's chest. Edmund fingered the wound and let out a menacing growl.

"That was quite foolish of you," he taunted before digging two fingers deep into the wound. Cullen had a brief moment of panic when he realized what the mage was setting out to do.

"No!" he cried, leaping towards the man only to be hit with a painful burst of electricity that sent him sprawling to the ground. Edmund continued to agitate the wound, letting the blood flow fast and free. A strange chant of guttural words poured of his mouth and Cullen felt the world shift as the veil was ripped open. Edmund screamed as the power of the fade coursed through his body, granting him immense power, but at a steep cost.

It was over in a matter of seconds, the veil snapped shut with a hollow sound and Cullen sprang to his feet, ready to face the apostate and end this disaster quickly. But when Edmund's eyes met his, they were no longer the watery grey they once had been, they were now filled with a scarlet fire, power crackling within their depths.

"What have you done Edmund?" Cullen demanded, taking a swing at the man. The mage neatly sidestepped the attack and purred seductively at him.

"Edmund cannot hear you, lover," a distinctly female voice intoned from the mages throat.

Maker Cullen thought with a sick feeling in his stomach, he's possessed.

"He cannot hear you, but I can, and I do like what I hear."

"I will strike you down, foul creature!" Cullen warned as the creature advanced on him. He watched in horror as Edmund's features began to snap and shift beneath the skin, taking on a haunting alien quality that was meant to entice and seduce.

"Such power and command," the demon purred as snatched out to grab hold of Cullen's sword, "I would so enjoy hearing you pant the Maker's name as you moved within me."

Shuddering in revulsion, Cullen tried to dislodge his weapon from his enemy's grasp. The creature simply clamped down harder on the blade, causing blood to run down its length. She hissed out a laugh and Cullen swore he could feel the sound caress his skin beneath his armor.

"Come, let us have a peek at what you desire my love," the demon whispered as she placed a hand on Cullen's face. He screamed in terror as she probed his mind, reaching into the farthest reaches of his thoughts. It took but a moment and the demon released him from her power with a laugh.

"That is rich!" She called out as Cullen collapsed to ground panting. "The templar in love with the mage!"

Cullen snapped his head up at the statement and let out a growl of anger.

"You will not seek to speak of her," he warned as he struggled to his feet.

"I could be her, you know," The demon offered, circling around the templar, "Galena Amell? I could wear her image and let you slake your lust in her tender flesh."

"Shut up!" Cullen muttered as he drew on what little strength was left to him.

"Don't you wish to know what she tastes like?" the creature taunted, ignoring his rising fury, "don't you want to feel her tight little body quivering with need as you stroke-"

With a roar of pure hatred Cullen swung about and planted his sword through the demon's chest. A scream of rage boiled outwards from her throat as she stumbled back and fell to the soft earth. Cullen stomped after her and placed a plated boot on her chest, seeking to remove the steel he had planted deep with her. The creature struck her hand out, faster that Cullen would have dreamed possible and grasped his wrist in an iron grip.

"You may kill the vessel I have chosen, but you will never kill me," she snarled, blood seeping from her lips.

"Go back to the fade and rot you unholy bitch," Cullen spat as he tried to shake of her grip.

"Oh I will, but first, a token of my affection," she said malevolently before roughly pulling him down so that her face was but a breath away from his. There was not even time to protest before the demon mashed her lips to his in a suffocating kiss. Cullen struggled to get away but was soon hit with a flash of warmth suffusing his body. It was there and gone in moment and Cullen ripped his head away from the demon. With one last cry of defiance he ripped his blade from her chest and brought it swiftly down on her neck, severing her head from her body.

Cullen collapsed on all fours, his breath haggard and uneven. He watched with sick fascination as the body began to transform back to that of Edmund the blood mage. After what seemed like an eternity he struggled to his feet and slowly walked to his fallen companions. He took the time to kneel by each of their still forms and murmur the requisite prayers. Then, without another glance back at the carnage he left the clearing and started his journey back to the circle.

~oOo~

It had taken him the better part of a week to return to the circle, and the whole time he was plagued by fears of what the desire demon had done to him. True, he felt much the same as he always had, and his dreams were not plagued by ill thoughts and deeds. But the memory of that flash of warmth; it haunted him and he couldn't shake the feeling that the demon had altered him somehow. Which went a long way to explaining why he had left the demonic kiss out of his report to Greagoir. He wasn't about to risk his career and duty on the suspicion that some corruption had taken place. But the thought nagged at him still.

He was lost deep in his thoughts as he rounded the corridor leading to the library and nearly collided with a lithe figure coming the other way.

"Oh Solona! I'm sorry," he blurted, holding a hand out to steady the woman. When his skin made contact he felt a powerful desire surge through his body and he drew in a sharp gasp.

"Cullen? Are you well?" she asked, her delicate features furrowing in concern. Cullen could not answer for he was too transfixed by her full lips and hooded eyes, the way her hair rippled blue-black in torchlight. It was as if a fog had covered his common sense, leaving only his base instincts in control. His hand started to softly stroke her arm of its volition, and Cullen marveled at the silky feel of her robe.

Solona frowned when no answer was forthcoming and raised a hand to rest on his cheek, as if checking for a fever. Cullen moaned and turned his face into her touch, inhaling her soft, spicy smell. He could feel his pulse beating through his veins and every nerve in his body cried out for more contact. He felt her stiffen in surprise at his reaction before relaxing and taking a step closer to him. Cullen removed her hand from his face and brought her slender fingers to his lips, gently kissing each one. Solona sighed softly at the contact, eyelids flickering slightly. He slowly trailed his eyes over her alluring frame, savoring the way her robes clung to every seductive curve. A small, nagging voice, in the back of his head railed at him to stop, that he had taken vows to the Maker, but it was so hard to hear it through the fog that coated his thoughts.

When at last his gaze came to rest on her parted mouth he let out a low growl and wove his fingers through her hair, bringing her flush to him. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and breathed in deep that alluring scent. Just as he was about to trail his tongue in one slow line against her flesh Solona spoke.

"Maker! Cullen! If I didn't know any better I'd say you were possessed," she gasped in pleasure and pressed herself tightly against him.

Cullen's eyes snapped open and cold clarity swept through him.

But first, a token of my affection. The memory rang clear in his head. The desire demon had done something to him. What exactly, he wasn't sure, but he was most certainly not acting himself. He had always found Solona Amell alluring, had even found a place in his heart for her, but he had buried those feelings under years of templar discipline. Why now would such a simple contact break his resolve?

With a strangled cry Cullen pushed himself away from her, causing her to lose her footing in surprise.

"Cullen!" She cried as she scrambled to her feet, shock writ plain in her gaze. Cullen ignored her discomfort and shuddered in revulsion. He swallowed hard and brushed past her, fair running down the corridor, away from his most dire temptation. Solona's voice calling out his name haunted his every step.

~oOo~

Cullen slammed the door to First Enchanter Irving's private study open and hastily approached the desk.

"What is the meaning of this?" Irving demanded, shocked at Cullen's lack of decorum.

"You have to help me," Cullen pleaded, his hands digging into the wood of the great desk before him.

"I have to do no such thing," Irving countered, his voice frosty.

"You don't understand!" Cullen cried in frustration, "That bitch did something to me!"

"Young man!" Irving scolded as he walked out from behind his desk, hands gripping his staff in warning.

"That-that thing. That demon did something to me!"

Irving stopped short at the mention of a demon, his mouth half open in surprise. Cullen shook as he tried to reign in his fear, swallowing hard.

"The knight commander sent a party out after an apostate, a blood mage," Cullen explained, his voice hoarse and strained. "When cornered the man tore the veil and welcomed a demon within him. I managed to dispatch the creature, but not before…before…" Cullen was unable to give the incident words, afraid that doing so would give the demon more power over him.

"Before what?" Irving demanded, the color leeched from his weathered features.

"Before she kissed me," Cullen whispered in shame. Irving cocked an eyebrow in disbelief and the templar began babbling in an effort to defend himself. "She said it was a token of her affection. I resisted! I did! But she was too strong! I swear, First Enchanter, I swear I was not taken in and seduced. And now! Now I am unable to control my desires. She was so close, and she smelled so seductive. I've tried to banish my feelings for her, but her body was close and her skin so soft-"

Irving held up a hand, silencing Cullen's frantic speech. The templar sagged in exhaustion, his eyes pleading for help.

"Who are you speaking of, child?" Irving asked quietly, searching the templar's face for answers. Cullen felt himself flush with embarrassment and quickly looked away.

"I do not know her name, sir," he stammered, the lie coming hard to his lips, "she was but a random mage I stumbled into outside the Library. Everything was fine until I touched her and then it was as if I was drowning in lust."

Irving arched an eyebrow, clearly unwilling to believe Cullen's tale. But the templar steadfastly refused to reveal Solona's involvement in his indiscretion. No one was privy to his feelings for the raven haired mage, it was his secret to keep and it would take much to cause him to reveal it.

"Am I possessed?" Cullen asked, his voice catching on the words.

"No, I do not think so," Irving replied, allowing him the lie. Cullen watched with hopeful eyes as the First Enchanter turned to search his many shelves of books. "There are legends-rumors really- of demons being able to pass along a part of their essence to a victim. Usually as a punishment for having foiled their devious plots."

"But what good does that accomplish?" Cullen asked, his mind still reeling from all that had occurred.

"Imagine, if you will, a rage demon imbuing a man with a ferocious, all encompassing anger. And the man, completely unaware of his condition, goes about his daily life until something triggers the compulsion the demon has placed within him. He then flies into a kind of maddening rage and slaughters those around him with such a savagery that it borders on insanity. Once his anger has been spent he is left as he once was, but surrounded by the carnage of his actions. It is not something that one would easily be able to bear, much less live with afterwards."

Cullen gasped at the idea, and muttered a prayer to Andraste out of habit. Irving spared the templar a wry glance before turning back to his books.

"Thankfully, that is not the case with you. I do not believe you the essence of rage or anything so dangerous within you. If I was able to decode your frantic babbling I do believe that you have the essence of desire running through your blood."

"Desire?" Cullen chocked, his mind flashing back to the way Solona's body had pressed against him.

"Yes, something just as dangerous but in a much different way," Irving answered as he plucked a codex off the shelf and brought it to the desk.

"Is there anything you can do?" Cullen whispered, horrified at what was inhabiting his skin.

"I believe there is, but it will take some time to prepare. In the meantime I suggest you sequester yourself away from the…female population of the tower. It would sadden me greatly to hear that you had forced yourself on of the women who call this place home," Irving muttered darkly as he flipped through the pages of the tome open before him.

"Do you honestly think I am capable of such…vileness?" Cullen demanded, anger welling up inside him.

"Under normal circumstances? No,' Irving answered with a sharp glare, "but these are not normal circumstances. As soon as the desire grabs hold of you, I am unsure as to whether you shall be able to control your actions. Lock yourself away, Cullen, and do it now."

Cullen remained silent, eventually nodding in defeat. He felt depression wash through him, shamed that he was no longer the master of his own life.

"What shall I tell my Knight Commander?" he asked quietly, eyes downcast, "I am scheduled to patrol the novice's dormitory this night."

"Leave that to me," the First Enchanter said dismissively, "I shall tell Greagoir that you contracted a highly contagious disease in your travels and need to be quarantined until our healers can find a cure. Now go, leave me to my studies. With any luck I shall have a solution by morning."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Cullen quickly slunk out of Irving's study and made his way to the harrowing chamber. The mage closest to undergoing the trail was Solona, and she was still weeks away from being deemed ready. It was the one place he was sure to be left alone.

Once safely behind the door of the chamber, Cullen let out a shaky breath.

"Morning," he muttered, "I just have to wait until morning and then I will be cleansed of this…this taint."

A wave of exhaustion suddenly overcame him, and he wearily began to divest himself of his armor. Once he had tripped to nothing but the loose linen breeches he wore beneath his plate, he collapsed on the bed nestled against the far wall. With one last hurried prayer to Andraste to make him whole, he succumbed to his exhaustion and let sleep claim him.

~oOo~

Some time in the early hours of the morning Cullen awoke from a restless sleep gasping. His skin was sweat slicked and he could feel his cock hard and throbbing beneath his breeches. He had been dreaming…vividly. Of Solona. He could still hear her gasping his name in ecstasy as she writhed beneath him.

"Damnit!" Cullen cried, fisting his hands through his hair. He desperately hoped Irving could come up with a solution by morning; he wasn't sure how much longer he could stand this untamed lust running though him. He angrily strode to the narrow window that overlooked Lake Calenhad and through the pane open, relishing the frigid air that played over his skin. Just as he was beginning to grab a hold of himself he heard a tentative knock at the chamber door. He closed his eyes, and bit down on his lip, unwilling to answer.

"Cullen?" An achingly familiar voice called out and he felt desire surge within him.

"Go away, Solona," he demanded his voice rough and thick.

"Cullen, please let me in," she pleaded rattling at the door.

"Leave me be!" he cried, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to maintain control. Of course she would not listen, she was always willful. Always throwing herself headfirst into whatever came her way. It was one of the reasons he loved her, her ability to face the world on her own terms.

The rattling at the door continued and Cullen had to physically grip the ledge of the window lest he run to her and throw the door open himself. He could hear her cursing softly as she fiddled with the lock. A muffled, "Oh, sod it," came before he felt a blast of power shake the room. He whipped about and was greeted with the sight of the doors lock glowing red with heat. The door began to shake as something heavy thumped hard against it over and over. Finally the molten metal gave and the door burst open, spilling Solona into the room. Maker, she was beautiful; her hair wild from her exertions, eyes flashing triumphantly.

"Cullen," she stated, the word full of questions demanding answers.

"You shouldn't be here, Solona," he growled as he pressed himself against the stone wall, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

"What is wrong with you?" She asked, taking a step towards him.

"Don't!" he shouted harshly, bring her up short in surprise. "Don't come any nearer!"

She let out a huff of anger and shifted on the balls of her feet…delicate feet that Cullen now realized were bare and peeking out from the hem of her robe. Oh, how he wanted to run his hands over that skin, tracing a line from her toes, up her calves and across those thighs-

"No!" he cried, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, as if he could erase her lovely image from his mind.

"Maker's sodding balls, Cullen, tell me what is going on!" She demanded, hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides.

"I can't, Solona, now please, GO!"

"I'm not taking a single step out of this room until you explain yourself!" She countered, eyes narrowed in anger. "What am I to think when you very nearly seduce me in the halls, only to shove me to the ground and run away? And now you are keeping secrets and are treating me as if I am the most vile thing you have laid eyes on! How am I to take that, Cullen?"

Her words caused a strangled cry to rise up out of his throat and he took an unwilling step closer to her.

"I do not find you vile, Solona," he said through clenched teeth as he continued step unsteady towards her. "Far from it. There are a hundred words I could use to describe you and vile is most assuredly not on that list, and that is why you must leave."

"Not until you answer my question," she countered stubbornly.

"Fine!" He cried taking two hurried steps closer to her before regaining a measure of control and stopping short. "I am…not well."

Solona snorted and rolled her eyes, "Yes, as someone who has been training as a healer for the last ten years, I am quite aware of that. But if you think I'm going to buy that load of nug shit Irving was spewing about a strange illness then you give me far too little credit. What happened to you, Cullen?"

"There was a demon," he snarled, "a hell bitch of a desire demon and she…infected me with her essence! There! Are you happy now? To know that the mighty templar is a slave to his lust and must be locked away lest he let his passion lose on the female populace?"

Solona's anger melted from her face and was replaced with understanding. "No," she murmured as she crept closer to him. There were mere inches between them and Cullen shook with the effort not to pull her against his chest and slake his desire. "I am happy that my dear templar has told me the truth."

Solona tentatively raised a hand and laid it against his bare chest, her fingers splayed out over his heart. Cullen hissed in a sharp breath at the contact, his resolve wavering.

"You want to leave this room, Solona," he warned, his voice thick with desire.

"I've heard of this, you know," she intoned softly as she gently began to knead his skin with her fingers. "'Essence of the demon.' They say the only way to free the victim is to let the essence run its course."

"Solona…"he whispered, eyes closed in desperation.

"Cullen," she replied as she brought her mouth to hover over his, "please…" And with that plea, his resolve shattered and he succumbed to the desire boiling through him.

"You should have gone," he muttered before seizing her mouth in his with a fierce kiss. Solona melted against him as she parted her lips, welcoming his hungry tongue. He kissed her as if he were a drowning man and he was drawing the very breath from her. He was distantly aware of small, hungry sounds coming from Solona's throat but he was too distracted by the feel of her pressed against his hips. He tore himself away from her lips and trailed a rough line of kisses down her throat, licking the sweet hollow at its base.

"Cullen…" she moaned, her fingers gripping his shoulders tightly as she trembled beneath him. The sensation of her skin on his made him want to rub himself against every plane of her flesh. But she was wearing far too many clothes. With a growl of frustration he balled his fists into her robe and pulled harshly, causing a large tear to form down her back. Solona gasped in surprise before letting out a throaty chuckled that only spurred his desire. He hastily pulled the ruined cloth from her shoulders then reclaimed her mouth with crushing force. She responded by deftly unlacing the bindings on his breeches and pushing them to the floor.

Cullen could feel her breasts pressed again his chest, rubbing teasingly with every breath she took. He moaned into her mouth and brought a hand up to cradle one roughly. Solana hissed in pleasure and tore her lips away from his, head thrown back in ecstasy. He watched her face as he moved a thumb over the gentle peak of dusky nipple, feeling it tighten in response to his touch. Her mouth parted in a wordless prayer as his fingers kneaded and teased her flesh. She began to pant and thrust her hips into his as he continued to arouse her with his touch.

Unable to hold out any longer he swept her into his arms, letting the ruined robe lay discarded on the floor. He hastily carried her to small bed and deposited her gracelessly upon the mattress. Solona barely had time to form a coherent thought before Cullen positioned himself between her thighs and lick a slow trail from her neck to her navel. Cullen smiled when she arched her back in response and bucked her hips. He hesitated when he reached the silken hair that lay at the juncture of her thighs and breathed deep of her scent. His head swam with the sensation and he sighed before placing a hesitant kiss upon her folds. Solona shivered in response and he smiled. Ever so slowly he began to lick a delicate line up her length, savoring the honey-cloved taste of her. He took great pleasure in the way she whispered his name with every stroke and gradually increased his tempo, causing her to cry out.

He worked on her for what seemed like an eternity, savoring her cries of pleasure and the way her taste slid along his tongue. It was only when she begged for release that he let his passion free and he cleaved her with his tongue, seeking out the slick little pear that nestled between her folds. A feral scream tore from her lips as he sucked her clit into his mouth, tongue flicking over it in rapid succession. He could feel her wet juices fill his mouth and he greedily lapped up every drop.

When she lay limp and exhausted, he crawled up her form, randomly placing kisses along her ribs as he did so. Solona gazed up at him with half lidded eyes, a secret smile painted on her lips as he wound her arms about his neck.

"Please, Cullen," she murmured, "I need you."

Cullen shuddered; not from desire, but from the overwhelming feeling of love that briefly chased away the driving lust. He smiled softly and gently caressed her face with a trembling hand.

"Solona," he whispered her name as if it were a holy prayer. He pressed himself against her opening and the feel of her wet center against the swollen head of his length brought the desire roaring back to the surface. His body went rigid as he thrust deep within her in long stroke. It brought a gasp to both of their lips as they lay trembling, savoring the sensation. Solona was the first to move, rolling her hips slowly against his, causing his to shiver in pleasure. With a growl he began to move within her, matching her movements with every thrust. Solona arched her back, seeking to take him deeper within her. Cullen was suddenly over taken with a deep desire to see her above him, writhing and riding his cock to her pleasure. With an animalistic sound he wrapped an arm around her waist and flipped them over. Solona giggled in shock, pausing only briefly to steady herself before continuing her pulsing movement.

Cullen watched in fascination as she lost herself in pleasure. The unconscious licking of her parted lips, the slender hands that rose to grasp her supple breasts. It was all becoming too much to bear and he gripped her hips tight in warning. Seeming to understand his fraying control, Solona thrust her hips faster, moaning a litany of nonsense as she rode him hard. Just as he was sure he was about to burst he felt her muscles constrict around his member and she screamed his name to rafters. He groaned as he felt her silky walls caress and milk his cock, hot spurts of his release erupting within her.

Solona collapsed on top of him, panting in exhaustion. Cullen took a moment to savor the feel of her hair against his skin before gently easing her off of his now flaccid member.

"Did it work?" She asked breathlessly, a wicked smile painted on her lips. He tried his best to appear as non-plussed but he could feel sorrow welling up in his chest.

"I don't rightly know," he murmured, trying to keep his voice light. She laughed softly and closed her eyes.

"We shall have to check in the morning," she murmured sleepily, "I need my rest before making another such attempt."

Cullen said nothing but watched her slip into a blissful sleep, the smile still gracing her face. When he was sure she would not be awakened by his movement he quietly slipped out of the bed and donned his discarded breeches.

It had worked. Cullen was now free of any trace of desire and shame filled his soul. He had broken his sacred vows, he had become a slave to his baser instincts. Worst of all, he had used the women he loved to do so. In his wildest fantasies he had never imagined that they would engage in such a dalliance at the behest of a desire demon. It was not the intimacy he had wanted for Solona, and the knowledge filled him with bitterness.

~oOo~

In the early hours of the dawn, Cullen crept through the silent halls of the circle, stopping at the First Enchanter's door. He sighed heavily before giving it a token knock and quietly turning the knob. Irving was hunched over manuscripts and tomes bleary eyed and barely awake.

"When I said morning, I did mean once the sun had fully risen, Cullen," he muttered with annoyance.

"You can stop your seeking," Cullen said softly, refusing to meet the First Enchanter's eyes, "I have been cured."

Irving snapped a tome shut angrily and leapt to his feet.

"Have you, now?" He said menacingly, daring the templar to admit his deed.

"She came to me, Irving," he explained with sorrow, "she asked that she be allowed to help me. I was too far gone in the essence to deny her."

"Who?" the mage demanded, his voice still laced with anger.

"Solona," Cullen whispered, eyes closed tightly at the memory. Irving paused then sat back in his chair.

"Ah, yes. The Amell girl. I am hardly surprised."

Cullen glanced up at that, surprised at the implication.

"Your…infatuation with each other has not gone unnoticed by everyone, child. You especially stare at her as if she is your very salvation."

She was, Cullen thought, not willing to voice his feelings when they were still so raw and fresh.

"Which begs the question, if she helped you to your cure, then why are you here?"

"I have a favor to ask, First Enchanter," he said, voice breaking.

"Oh? And what is that?"

"Make her forget." Whatever Irving had expected the templar to ask, it most certainly wasn't that. Cullen swallowed hard before begging once more. "Make her forget. I do not wish for her to know that I gave into my desires at the behest of a demon. She deserves far more than that. Please, Irving, just make her forget!"

Cullen was sobbing by the end of his speech and collapsed to the floor, head cradled in his hands. He did not hear Irving rise from his desk and approach the sobbing man, but he could feel the old man's hand come to gently rest upon his shoulder in comfort.

"As you wish, my child. As you wish."

~oOo~

True to his word, Irving did as Cullen had asked. And the next time he saw Solona she offered him a shy smile and pleasant greeting but said nothing of their shared time together. For his own benefit, Cullen began to pull away from her, offering polite yet terse answers to her queries, leaving her with a baffled and slightly hurt expression on her face. It cut something deep within him to know that he was hurting her, but this small hurt was far easier to bear than the truth.

With each passing day it grew easier to live with his secret. After a month it no longer plagued his every waking thought as it once had. But he would still wake gasping in the middle of the night, the memory of her screaming his name ringing hollow in his ears.

He thought he had moved past it when Solona's turn for her harrowing grew near. By some cruel twist of fate he had been chosen to be the templar to wield the executioner's blade. Those moments when he held the blade above her throat were so fraught with warring emotions he almost fled the room. Thank the maker she had passed the trial and he was spared the choice to striking her down or abandoning his last remaining vows.

When she sought him out after she had recovered, he tried to keep his voice light and detached, but he was so happy that she was alive and well that he couldn't help but let some of his true emotions slip into his words. Solona was always incredibly bright and picked up on the change immediately. She leapt at the chance to have the familiar Cullen returned to her and sweetly tried to seduce him. It took everything he had not to give in, not to lay a trembling kiss on those full lips. But his will won out and he babbled some nonsense before running away from her. When he was safely out of her view he staggered back against a wall and cried hot tears of regret over the woman he had loved, but could never have again.

And here are those lyrics as I promised. Check the song out, totally sexy!

"Rev 22:20"

By Puscifer

Don't be aroused by my confession
Unless you don't give a good goddamn about redemption, I know
Christ is comin' and so am I
You would too if this sexy devil caught your eye

She'll suck you dry
And still you'll cry to be back in her bosom
To do it again
She'll make you weep
And moan and cry to be back in her bosom
To do it again

She'll make you cry
I'll sell my soul to be back in her bosom
Gladly now please suck me dry
And still you'll cry to be back in her bosom
To do it again

My pulse has been rising, my temples are pounding
The pressure is so overwhelming and building
So steady now, Freddy, I'm ready to blow
What is she, what is she, what is she waiting for?

(Pray)
(Pray)
(Pray)
(Pray)

(Pray)
'Til I go blind
(Pray)
'Cause nobody ever survives
(Pray) Prayin' to stay in her arms just until I can die a little longer
Saviors and saints, devils and heathens alike
She'll eat you alive