"You are insane," Velanna said, trying not to break something in frustration. Lance nodded.
He was rifling through the armory, gathering up equipment. He had a pair of shortblades, the type to be carried on your back. They were light, fast, just the thing he needed to carry. He was looking for a proper set of leathers, something to keep him light for travel.
"I can't let you do this, Commander," she said. Lance didn't pay attention to her. He was grabbing what supplies he could find, trying to guess what he would need.
He had to hurry. By the time the Wardens came to, they would know exactly where he was. He had the advantage, though, whether or not they knew it.
Velanna grabbed him roughly, tried to get him to face her.
"What are you doing? They will kill you."
And he looked her in the eye, his determination apparent.
And she gasped to herself.
"That's it, isn't it? You want them to kill you. You think if they kill you then everything will be better, you'll be redeemed."
He hesitated, cleared his throat. How could he word this to her? How could he tell her what he was thinking, how he felt?
"I'm hoping," he said, feeling again the disdain he had for himself, the sound of his voice echoing his weakness, his foolishness. "I'm hoping that I can save her."
Velanna, squeezed his arm tighter, closed her eyes. And she nodded.
"I'm going with you," she said. Lance balked. He wanted to tell her no, to tell her that this was something he had to do himself. But he didn't.
"Let's go," he said. She turned to gather her own things. She held her staff tightly, the twisted heartwood. She hesitated a moment, seeing the cold determination in his eyes.
And she kissed him, quickly, before he could react.
He sighed, nodded to her, and left to get a few more things from his room.
She watched him go, praying that the Creators would guide his steps, that he would not falter. Because where they were going, she knew, they wouldn't be coming back.
He rifled through the drawer of his writing desk, searching for the pendant he had been given so many months ago, when he was first made a Grey Warden. The Warden's Oath.
He found it, held it so that the silver chain dangled between his fingers.
He hadn't worn it in so long. He had replaced it with the silver amulet given to him by the spirit of his father in that temple in the Frostback Mountains. But he couldn't wear it now.
He looked at the reflective surface, the familiar face that smiled at him. And he let it fall into the drawer.
"Sorry," he said. "Can't bring you there. Can't let you see what I'm about to do."
And he put the Warden's Oath around his neck, held it up to examine the swirling liquid, the sample of his Joining cocktail. The Archdemon's blood, the lyrium. It made him stronger, he thought. It gave him that ounce of strength necessary to go on.
And he stepped out into the hall, saw Velanna waiting for him.
"Are you ready?" she asked. He nodded to her. And she took a breath.
They stepped out of the Keep, soldiers watching them go. They didn't tell the other Wardens, didn't need them following. This was something to keep private.
But there was someone at the gate, waiting nervously. A woman, familiar. Her dark hair, the strong stature.
"Ser Cauthrien," said Lance, folding his arms as he approached her. She tried to smile, nervous.
"Hello, Warden Commander. Arl."
Lance tilted his head, waiting for her to speak. She looked very uneasy.
"I… are you recruiting?" she asked. "I want to join the Wardens."
He narrowed his eyes at her. The last time they met, they'd scuffled in the streets of Denerim. She hadn't exactly been a Warden sympathizer. In fact, she all but idolized Loghain and had begged him to show forgiveness to the man.
"Please," she said. She looked around, as though she didn't know what to say exactly. She wore her armor, a relic from her time as a real knight. She had since left the service, shamed for Loghain's actions. And here she was, standing rigid before the Warden Commander, begging to be let into the Order.
She reached out, took his hand, and bowed before him.
"I know that it must sound crazy," she said. "But I want to be a Grey Warden. I want to redeem myself."
"Could kill you," said Lance. She nodded.
"I am willing to take that risk."
"Go inside. Talk to the Dwarf," Lance said, and pushed past her. She grabbed his arm, pulled him so that he would face her.
"Where are you going?" she asked, eyeing his leather traveling armor, the blades at his back, the pack. It was obvious that he was headed somewhere, and she was eager to find out where.
"Don't," he warned. Velanna stepped forward.
"If you truly wish to be a Grey Warden, then go inside the Keep. You will be looked after there. But we have no time for you. We are leaving."
"Let me come," Cauthrien said. "Please, Commander."
He gaped at her.
"No."
She grit her teeth, obviously feeling quite haggard. And she spoke to him earnestly, honestly.
"I want to redeem myself," she said. "I have done so much wrong. Please allow me to join you. I will do whatever it takes, just let me prove to you that I am worthy."
Lance sighed. He didn't want to bring her. As it was he was traveling with one too many people. But she was insistent, even going so far as to take a knee.
"Let me pledge my life to you," she said. "Please. I can't put into words how important this is for me."
Lance pulled away, yanking his hand form hers.
"Fine. Just… get up."
And he was more than a little angry that he was now traveling with two women to save a third. It all spoke of… things that he really didn't want to speak of. He glared at the woman of his shoulder.
"You won't regret this, Warden," she said. "I mean, Commander. Ser."
"I will."
Velanna sighed loudly. If she had hoped for a quiet, intimate trip between the two of them, well, no such luck. And she looked quite perturbed for it.
He hurried them down the road and into the wilderness, headed north towards the mountains.
"What's in the mountains?" Cauthrien asked him. Lance snorted at her.
"An old friend," he said simply. And he trudged on. He judged that he had a few hours before those Wardens got the Keep, before they figured out what had happened. By the time they realized he intended to head for Orlais on his own, it would be too late for them.
Even if they got there first, he wasn't about to go on some clandestine mission to capture her. He was going to walk right up to the Empress herself and demand to see the women he loved.
But first, he was going to an old castle, in the mountains.