A note: Co-written with Gaspode5. Series of hugs to all who has written wonderful reviews e.g. ALL OF YOU! You make our day!

Disclaimer: The usual

The rift

When Josian materialised with the junior scout in tow, his usually vaguely worried expression was grim. "They're holed up in a cavern at the top of a ravine and there seems to be a lot more of them than the report said. Also I'm not certain but I think there might be an Emissary with them."

"Smart Spawn, what is the world coming to?" Roland puffed as he removed his helmet; his hair was plastered to his head with sweat.

Josian nodded towards Duncan, "We could have used you," before glancing over at Ser Abelard. Riordan gave a snort of disdain and earned himself a dirty look from their leader. Abelard was of an Orlesian noble family, a terrible snob and an idiot to boot, but he had brought with him a hefty donation, a typical example of Warden Politics gone wrong. If Abelard had any redeeming features at all, it was that Vittorio hated him. Duncan was holding himself carefully in check now, but Riordan could see that slight twitch in his hands that indicated that his patience was wearing thin. Unusually quickly too.

Riordan settled on the ground next to Roland, any brewing argument could manage perfectly well without him. The Orlesian indicated Duncan with his head. "Did you do his woman or something?"

Riordan winced. "Sort of."

"Bah, it'll pass. We'll find him a good solid farmer's girl with tits like wagon wheels and he'll get over it." Roland paused thoughtfully. "That Bellis girl...

Riordan managed a grin. "Good thinking." He hated the fact that Roland had noticed the rift between himself and Duncan but he owed him. It was Roland who had dragged him across the courtyard yesterday, growling at him, 'You heard the commander, you're THIS close to Jader!' The Orlesian had then dumped him into a stall where a surprised horse rolled her eyes as Riordan emptied what little was left in his stomach whilst clinging to her. To be transferred to Jader was a byword for being either criminally insane, even beyond the rather loose Warden standards, or such a malcontent that had you been a dog, you would have been put out of your misery long ago. He had spent most of that morning sprawled in the stall trying to sober up, at least a bit. The only good thing about being that sick was that it effectively distracted him from dwelling on his actions in the baths, something that days of boozing had failed to accomplish. No such luck today.

As Roland prodded him he absentmindedly handed over the canteen of water. What the bloody fucking Blight did he have to go and do that to Duncan for? He had been taken by surprise, true, but it had been Duncan for the love of Andraste! There was simply no excuse. Riordan rubbed his hand over his eyes. At the very least he should stop lying to himself. There HAD been a moment before Duncan had brushed it off as a game..., 'Fuck that had been close, too close'.

"This is what happens when we listen to reports from Chevaliers." Roland muttered sourly before shouting over to Duncan, "I suppose it's too much to hope for that the critters will come storming out if we approach."

"Unlikely. Spawn aren't very smart but they probably won't abandon such an advantageous spot when all they need to do is wait for us to get bored and move in. Even they have some sort of instinct," Duncan continued as he studied the map, "the ravine would make for a great ambush if we could just piss them off enough to forget about it and come out."

Vittorio's voice cut in. "It seems the Maker finally smiles on us then. Perhaps we have found the perfect use for the Bastard after all, seeing as nobody can annoy like him."

"Why don't you do us all a service and get dead!" Riordan shot back without much feeling; he just couldn't muster the energy today.

"Wait, Vittorio has a point," Roland nodded towards Riordan, "nobody can draw Spawn like you," he looked around, "If Riordan approaches the cavern he can Call them. It might be strong enough to lure them out AND make them miss the rest of us long enough for a half decent ambush."

Abelard seemed to lose his permanent sneer and eyed Riordan curiously. "Is this true? This might work and if it fails, little is lost."

Riordan spat, "Forget it, I'm not going to play sitting duck."

"You can't be serious!" Duncan butted in angrily.

"I believe I am in command here Warden!" Abelard snapped before turning his attention on Riordan again. "Are you refusing an order?"

Riordan shrugged. "If that idiotic idea was an order, I guess so."

Duncan looked like he wanted to hit both of them but instead he took a deep breath and ground out, glaring at Abelard, "The plan is flawed and dangerous, Makers arse, it's not even a plan and we haven't thought it through!"

"I suggest you watch your tongue Warden." Abelard said coolly. "We're supposed to do whatever it takes, yes?"

"Right and where will that take YOU when Riordan calls them, to the back?" Duncan snarled.

The two men were so close their noses almost touched. Everybody suddenly seemed to have found bits of ground and sky that proved infinitely interesting whilst Riordan felt anger flare in his chest. This was none of Duncan's fucking business, Riordan didn't need his bloody protection, and he hated the sudden tight feeling in the throat too. His body screamed for action.

"Bloody Maker fucking Andraste sideways, I'll do it!" Everybody stared at him except Duncan who stared at the ground with his fists clenched and for a few moments all that could be heard was the soft breeze in the trees.

"Well done Warden, it seems I have misjudged you." Abelard finally said smugly.

Riordan swallowed the simmering anger and gave Abelard his most insolent smirk. "Yeah. So if this doesn't work, what do you suggest I do next? Moon them?"

As he headed for the ravine the others silently slipped away to find their places. He brushed past Roland and murmured "Thanks a lot!" He could feel the Taint slither under his skin, numbing him to the sun that warmed the side of his face. As he stopped and listened, all he could hear was Spawn whispering in his mind. Repulsive and tantalizing the Taint begged for him to come closer, to feel more. 'This might work and if it fails, little is lost.' Well that arrogant shit Abelard had a point. Riordan obeyed the pull of the Taint and moved further up the ravine until he could see the cave opening. He closed his eyes and sent out the Call. It reverberated through his mind, cocksure and taunting as his blood suddenly sang with anticipation. The whispers in his mind halted, only to rise into a howl and moments later Spawn poured out of the cave like ants from a disturbed nest.

Duncan leaned against the tree trunk with a rag pressed against the wound in his neck, trying not to be too obvious as he watched Riordan and the new recruit Bellis. It was an ironic twist of fate that had Riordan as the almost only Warden to come out of the battle more or less unscathed after Duncan had made a complete ass off himself by almost coming to blows with Abelard over his safety. He tried to tell himself that he would have done the same had it been one of the other's life on the line, but deep inside he knew he would never have gone so far had it not been Riordan. He was also painfully aware of that he was avoiding his friend, but every time the man came near he wanted to just vanish. As if that wasn't enough he felt guilty.

'He's struggling with his horse's harness when he hears Roland's voice rise in argument. "Now, do I look like I give a toss? Oh fuck!" There's the sound of someone being violently ill. "Are you done? You heard the man! You're THIS close to Jader." Duncan can't hear the reply but he recognises the other, more subdued voice as Riordan's. "Get your act together and get on that bloody horse and you'll do my armour too, all of this mission! I missed breakfast because of you." A moment later Riordan is half falling into the stall next to Duncan's, saving himself by grabbing hold of the mane of his horse. He clings to it as he gets sick again. Guilt swamps Duncan, it has been quite some time since he saw the other man in that condition, yet he withdraws silently like a coward.'

With their healer down it would have to be Riordan or Bellis patching him up since Riordan already was known as a handy man with bandages, needle and thread and Bellis was the only other warden not injured. Duncan silently prayed that it would be the woman. She was pretty with curves in all the right places and could double as a nice distraction from his stupidity days ago.

Each time he thought about that evening, the memory of his thumb travelling over Riordan's mouth insinuated itself into his mind. Blight! In the painful clarity of sobriety he couldn't believe how incredibly moronic he had been. Riordan had never shown interest in men any more than Duncan had. With a sigh of relief he saw Bellis head towards him. Then, as if to really rub in the fact that the Maker had turned his back on them all, Riordan stopped her and after a brief exchange the man headed towards Duncan with a grimly determined look on his face. Duncan groaned inwardly and closed his eyes. He didn't open them even when he heard Riordan crouch next to him. "Let me have a look." Riordan's voice was gruff.

"It's fine, just a few stitches, Bellis can sort it."

"Stop playing the hero and let me see!" Riordan snapped and pulled Duncan's hand aside. Riordan was strong, they both were, like any men that daily fought for their lives and nobody could look at him and take him for anything else, but even that was deceptive for his strength exceeded what was seen, as Duncan had learned the hard way during their many sparring sessions. Now his arm was caught in an iron grip and Riordan's eyes held his just as firmly before the man turned his attention to the wound. "Makers arse Duncan!" he said exasperated, "What have I said about watching your left?" There was something like affection in his voice and it made Duncan feel sick. Riordan prodded the wound and the pain was welcome. "Lean you head that way!" he ordered. Duncan tried to make his mind blank as Riordan tugged at the straps of his armour. A generous amount of liquid was poured on his neck; it stung enough to make him hiss.

"You're a bloody sadist, you know that." He grumbled.

"It's for your own good." Some more liquid hit the wound. "About the other day...I was drunk and stupid, we both were, I'm truly sorry! It was, as you said, just a bit of fun, right?"

"I guess so..."

There was some rummaging behind him before he felt the first prick of a needle. He steeled himself and after a while chanced a joke "Could you make that a bit more painful?"

"Move again and you'll know for sure!" The voice was relaxed. "We're good then?"

He felt Riordan's breath on his neck as he worked.

"Of course!" He knew what Riordan offered him, a lie, they both knew it, but a lie that would enable them to move on and keep their friendship.

"I would not lose your friendship over something like that, it's ...too important."

Duncan was astounded. "Now that must have been like pulling a tooth."

"Much worse and if I were you right now, I would hold my tongue."

Duncan left Bellis with a smile and some sweet words after she had re-bandaged his wound. He'd managed to open it during their lovemaking. A frustrated Riordan had palmed her off on Duncan when she finally broke down, unable to deal with a death amongst her friends. What had started out as an offer of comfort had quickly turned into something else, a brush with death sometimes had that effect, Duncan had noticed. It had been frantic and sweet, yet oddly dissatisfying. Perhaps he was still off balance from his suddenly appearing attraction to Riordan. He had no idea of what to do about that, except ignore it and hope it would go away as surely it must.

As if to demonstrate his good will, Riordan had spread his bedroll next to Duncan's earlier and in that enviable way of his, snatched a moment's rest before heading back to check on the wounded. As Duncan approached the spot now, he could see Riordan was back, making what seemed a rather half-hearted attempt to clean blood off his armour. At Duncan's approach he looked up, his face full of shadows. "Guess you made another wench happy, I thought you might." His tone was odd.

Duncan settled next to him and tried to catch a glimpse of his eyes but failed. "It was you who shoved her in my face. If you wanted her for yourself why didn't you just say so?"

Riordan huffed. "I had enough on my plate. Disgusted he threw the rag and the armour aside. "Why are we discussing this?" Duncan watched in silence as the other man lay down, that his back was turned might have been coincidence; if you didn't know him.

As Duncan stretched out next to him he said, "I'm not sure, you tell me." Perhaps it was time to take a leaf out of Roland's book. "You know you're much more important to me than she'll ever be." To his relief the other man said nothing.

Riordan remained silent so long Duncan was sure the man had gone to sleep when he suddenly turned and reached out to gently touch the bandage on Duncan's neck. "Would probably not have been able to hoist the flag anyway," he murmured, "All the time she hung on to me, all I could think of was if that cut of yours had been a tad deeper or a finger's breadth to the right..." Abruptly he turned over again. "I'm beat, if you speak you're dead!"

There was no risk of that. Duncan stared at Riordan's back as he rolled a number of responses around in his mind but nothing he could think of could possibly describe what he felt. "Goodnight." he managed eventually.