The k!meme prompt was this: f mage plays a game with the templars. She tries to get them to "break". Sort of the same game tourists play with the guards at the Tower of London.


It was the same thing. Every day, without fail, Solona would wander past him. He'd catch a whiff of her perfume. Her hips would sway. She'd bite her lip and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and he'd break. The templar veneer would crack and fall away, revealing the man beneath.

Of course, this would happen if Solona weren't Solona. She was madly in love with Cullen. So in love that she'd agreed to play that game with the other apprentices. Not necessarily seduce a templar, just get one to lose that templar bearing. They weren't statues after all, no matter how used to them one got.

So far, she'd broken her nose twice. She'd also ruined a batch of potions, not to mention a torn robe and some seriously wounded pride. It didn't help that she was better at setting things on fire than healing.

She'd spent the last two days studying the other girls and learning how they walked. Maybe her hips were attached differently. Two days of practice and she felt ready.

Lingering after the dinner bell, she was the last mage to exit the dormitories. Cullen was on guard, as usual. She glanced around to make sure he was the only templar there. Assured that they were alone, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Tonight would be the night.

She walked towards him. She tried to sway her hips the way she had practiced. Feeling silly and starting to blush, she bit her lip. All was going according to plan until she tried to look at him through her eye lashes. It was more than her uncoordinated body could handle and she tripped.

She heard a loud clang before her vision went black. When she came to, she was lying on the ground. Cullen was kneeling next to her, patting her cheek. Her head was aching. Gingerly she put her hand on her forehead, finding a large lump.

"Oh, Maker," she groaned. "I'm such a fool."

"Miss Amell, are you alright? It looked like you had a seizure..." Cullen trailed off. "Right. I'll get you to the infirmary." He helped her to sit up.

"No, it wasn't a seizure. Just me. Making a fool out of myself, as usual." She tried to smile. "What did I hit my head on? The wall?"

"Uh, no." He tapped his breastplate, indicating the large dent. "You hit me, in fact. What in the Maker's name were you doing?"

"It's silly." In for a copper... At least she had succeeded, in a manner of speaking. "It's a game the girls play with the templars."

"That's what you were doing?" She blushed and he hastened to explain. "We know all about it."

"Of course you do," she muttered. "Well, since the Maker hasn't seen fit to have the floor swallow me up, I guess I'll go to dinner."

He stood and helped her to stand. She took one step and tripped again. Cullen managed to catch her this time. They stood still, neither knowing what to do next. She watched the blush creep across his cheeks.

Carefully, she stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss on his lips. "Thank you, Cullen," she said, as she ran off for dinner, but not before stepping on his boot and cracking her elbow against the wall.