They made camp at the base of the mountain, in almost the exact same spot he and his friends had camped at a year ago. He washed up a bit in the same stream.
Cauthrien and Velanna were asleep, he thought. They had retreated to their tents and not come out for many hours. He sat up in the dark, watching the stars. He lay on the ground, near the dying remnants of the fire he'd built, his stomach heavy with the stew they'd eaten in Soldier's Peak.
And he pulled Avernus' vial out of his pocket, set it in the dirt beside him. He put Morrigan's Ring around the rim; let it sit there while he thought. He touched the ring gently, felt the wood on his fingertip.
"I miss you so much," he said to it. "I miss you."
He sat up, held the ring in his hand proper.
"You know, there're times I can barely get out of bed. I still dream about you. Almost every night. I try to drink so I won't, but I do. You were wrong, you know. You said that I would regret you. That I would regret us. I don't. I just… I just regret that I couldn't keep you."
He reached up, wiped his eye. There was a tear there. How'd that get there?
"I, uh, doubt. Sometimes. Doubt that we were… in love. I don't know, sometimes. I think we were. I used to know it."
He sniffled, his emotions getting the better of him.
"I heard – somewhere, it doesn't matter where – that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Is it true? Do you, maybe, love me more? That was the last thing you said to me, you know, that you love me. I love you."
Lance looked around, made sure that there was no one to see him now, that the girls were sleeping soundly, not watching him.
"I'm sorry. I… you saved my life, I know that, but you left me, and I… I can't go on. Not without you. Here I am with a whole country on my side, with countless friends and people who would call me family, and I'm so alone without you. I'm lost. I guess what I'm asking is, do you really love me? I keep telling myself that you had a reason – a good one – for leaving. But… It's so hard without you."
He leaned back on a tree stump, held the ring in his hand, talking directly to it. He might have looked like a fool, but he stopped caring. He wanted to pretend that she could hear him.
"Listen. I have to… do something. To other people. It's something… unthinkable. When I heard them say that they were going to execute you… Morrigan, I love you. No matter what, just know that I love you. I'm so, so sorry for this. What I have to do… what it will make me… you might not want to see me when it's done. Just, never forget that I love you."
And he took the vial, Avernus' dark research. The Power of Blood.
And he pulled the stopper, put it to his lips and tilted his head back, swallowing it all. He let the bottle drop into the fire pit. And he waited, for something.
He felt nothing at first, and wondered if it would not work, if it was all for nothing.
And then a searing pain shot through his midsection, causing him to double over in the dirt. He let out a gasp of pain, clenching his jaw tight so as not to wake anyone else in the camp. And put his hand to his mouth, screamed.
It felt like he was boiling alive.
He thrashed and writhed, got handfuls of dirt as he convulsed. His eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.
Quietly, from where she sat in her tent, Velanna stepped out, carefully walking to where Lance lay on the ground. He had one fist clenched around the ring, the ring that he had been talking to. She stared down at him, wondering about him.
She had only ever known the cold, hard Warden Commander. To see him crying, talking to a woman that wasn't there, trying to reach her... She knelt beside him, carefully moved his head to cradle him. She felt strange now.
She wanted this Warden Commander to be happy again, to steal all the pain and agony he felt constantly and make it so that he never had to hurt again. She had stopped seeing him as a shemlen a long time ago, and couldn't even think in such a limiting fashion anymore. She saw only a man. Worn, weary, and hurt, but a man nonetheless.
And she felt… something. She didn't want to put the word to it, but she knew what it could be called.
And she held him tightly, cradled him, tried to soothe him. Her lips went to his forehead, kissed him gently, sweetly, and she whispered so low that he might not have been able to hear.
"I am here, Commander," she said. "I am here for you. I always will be."
She held on tightly.
And then he was sitting up, thrashing wildly, screaming.
She let him go, surprised, and she scrambled away to keep from being attacked.
"No! No! No!" he screamed, and swatted at the air before him. Then he was on his knees, hands gripping his stomach. He lurched forward, vomited.
And he sat back, wiping his mouth and his sweaty brow.
"Oh, Maker," he whimpered, clutching his chest. Velanna moved towards him, reached out to touch him, comfort him.
"What did you see?" she asked.
He touched her, held her hands in his own, shook with fright.
"Dragons," he croaked. "She was surrounded by dragons, and I couldn't save her."
Velanna held him tightly, showing compassion uncharacteristic for her. No. It wasn't unusual. There were nights when she held Seranni like this. Promising to protect her.
"I couldn't save her," Lance whispered. "I tried so hard, but I couldn't. I couldn't."
"Hush, Commander," said Velanna, and she found herself kissing his head to comfort him, rocking back and forth quietly. "Shh."
Cauthrien emerged from her tent, brow furrowed and sword in hand.
"I heard screaming," she said, looking around. "Is everything okay?"
Then she saw Lance and Velanna, and the terror on Lance's face, the sadness in Velanna's eyes. And she stepped back into her tent, leaving them alone, despite the swirling thoughts in her head.
"I won't let it happen," Lance growled. "I'll kill them. All of them. Everyone. I'll kill them all."
She nodded, and held him tighter. But he moved away from her, forced himself to stand despite his shaking knees.
And he was looking around the forest, looking around their camp. At what, she could not tell. She stood beside him, scanned their surroundings to try to find whatever he was looking for. And then he shouted at the trees.
"I can feel you," he shouted. "Come out. Or I'll burn these woods down."
There was a flutter in the trees near them, like wings. Velanna stepped into a casting position, wishing she had brought her staff out with her. She reached out into the trees, felt around them, searched for whoever was watching them.
And she felt something strange, something the forest did not recognize at all.
"I surrender!" a girl shouted in mock fright. "The strong warrior has succeeded in drawing me out."
And someone was approaching, their form now visible in the dark. Velanna couldn't quite make out features yet, but knew that his woman was a human mage.
"Poor defenseless me," she said. "So vulnerable. 'Tis a shame that there is no strong, powerful man to guard my virtue."
"Who the sod are you," Lance asked, and gasped when she stepped into the fading moonlight. "No. You aren't Morrigan."
"No, I am not."
And Velanna could see her, too. Golden eyes, pale skin, full human lips, and long black hair tied into a single braid that ran the length of her back.
"I am Lilith. And I suppose you could say that I am the one that got away."