They were a few days from Orlais still, having camped at the very edge of the Waking Sea. The Wardens had probably reached Orlais by now, but they would not act yet. Lance was still sure that he could get to Val Royeaux in time.
The Frostback Mountains loomed ominously overhead. A chill air blew down the peaks. He recalled the last time he trekked to the top of the Frostbacks, cold air blowing around them. Snow so thick you could hardly see two inches in front of your head.
He remembered trudging through snow.
He remembered Morrigan's voice, rhythmic and musical.
Lovely! We can freeze to death while digging for the bones of a madwoman.
And he found himself once again feeling sorry for himself, once again fighting the overwhelming urge to just sit down and never get up again.
He looked down at the ring on his finger, rubbed it with his thumb, felt the wood. He could feel it stronger now. Avernus had been right. He was much more sensitive to magic. Velanna's presence made his body tingle with electricity. He felt like his bones were vibrating.
He couldn't even approach Lilith without risking a breakdown of sorts.
So he had separated himself from the others. From Velanna and Lilith and Cauthrien. The former knight gazed at him still with that strange look. Something like admiration and awe. He didn't like it.
He was sitting now at the very edge of the forest, watching the mountains.
It was quiet here, and he had time to think.
It was hard not to dwell on Morrigan and the good times. And then the horrid, awful times after that.
He missed her. He felt it with all his heart, all his soul – what little of it remained. He couldn't feel her on the other side of the ring, and he wondered why. Was it him? Was he just closed off to everything now? Or was it her?
It made him sad, but not in the same way he'd been sad. It was like losing a part of himself, a more important part than he would have thought.
So he was standing now, looking at the mountains, wondering what would happen when he finally got Val Royeaux, when he finally had his chance to be reunited with his love. There wasn't anything he could expect, really. He could only wonder, hope.
She probably wouldn't welcome him with open arms, not yet anyway.
He turned to head back to camp, to his tent and to get some rest.
As he did an arrow whistled past his head, causing him to drop low and turn to face the woods.
He probably should have figured that the Wardens were after him now. Considering what he'd done, what he was responsible for. They were coming for him.
But he was a little insulted that they'd only sent one.
He ran towards Lance, dropping his bow and drawing his sword. Lance wasn't armed except for the belt knife in his hands. The Longsword coming towards him just now wasn't something he wanted to tangle with.
So he chose not to.
That was the key, really, in combat. You fight on your terms, in your way, when you wanted. That was how to win. And if the enemy refused, then you didn't give him the option.
So when the sword came down to strike, Lance caught the wrist that carried it, twisted, and swiped the sword out of his opponent's hand.
The attacker didn't lose a stride, though. He was well-trained, just as Lance had been. But unfortunately for him, Lance was an experienced fighter and he wasn't.
Lance swept his attacker's legs out from under him, pinned him to the ground, He brought his belt knife up, ready to strike, knee on one of his attacker's arms, one on his chest, holding his wrist to prevent any defense.
Lance looked down at him, squinting to see him in the moonlight.
"Saul," he said, letting the man up.
Saul stood, rubbed his chest in irritation. He looked angry, but more that he'd been bested than that he had failed to kill him. He was young, a soldier, but untested. The Wardens would have to do better than that.
"Guess your reputation is well-deserved," said Saul. He held his hands out to show that he wasn't armed, but smiled as though he were speaking to a friend. "I should have waited. I wouldn't have missed."
"I'm glad you did," said Lance. He reached down and lifted up Saul's sword, held it out threateningly. He let the tip tap Saul on the chin, a little warning.
"Hey, I had a job to do," Saul said. "I'm sure you know what that's like."
Lance gave him a look. He dropped the sword; let it embed itself into the ground. He crossed his arms.
"Don't follow me," he said. Saul snorted.
"What kind of thing is that to say? You know that isn't an option."
He retrieved his sword, sheathed it. He tried to follow Lance as he went back to camp, chattering away as he went.
"Don't be that way! Look, we both know where you're going!"
Lance turned around, gave Saul a scowl. He smiled in return.
"I'm not even upset about the whole 'sleeper hold' thing," said Saul, making a gesture about his throat. He was trying to remain optimistic, as though Lance weren't seriously considering breaking his nose and leaving him tied up. "I'm coming with you."
"Who invited you?" asked Lance. Saul shrugged.
"I can either follow you, and we could do this again in a few hours, or you can let me tag along."
"You're trying to stop me. Kill me. I'm not that stupid."
"Aren't you?"
That got a dirty look.
"What I mean to say is that you don't have a lot of choice. You are going after the girl. So are we. My comrades – our comrades – are going on ahead."
Lance took a large step towards him, stood nose-to-nose with the man. He frowned. Saul leaned back, trying to look nonchalant. He opened his mouth to speak.
Lance struck him in the throat, causing him to double over, gasping.
"Sure you want to come with me?"
He held up a hand to stall Lance, trying to get him to stay put long enough for him to catch his breath. When he was able, he sat on his knees and spoke, trying to reason with the man before him.
"Hey, buddy, pal-" he stopped speaking when he saw Lance's scowl, changed his tone. "I mean, we both need to get to Val Royeaux. You have your reasons, I have my orders. They don't necessarily need to conflict."
"I'm going to save her life," said Lance. "You want to kill her. Doesn't conflict more than that."
And then Saul was sighing, raising his hands and trying to look honest.
"You… are the first Warden to defeat a Blight in centuries! You are a hero! I… I would follow your commands unto death. If this woman means something to you, then it's enough for me to side with you," Saul said. And then he was saluting, bowing. "Warden Commander, I am yours to command."
Lance grimaced. This was déjà vu at its finest. He hated commanding people. He hated having oaths flung around, pledges made. It was so… gross. He didn't want it.
"Keep it," he said. And he turned to go back to camp. Saul watched him go, dumbfounded.
Then, "Hey! I'm coming with you."
Lance didn't answer. He merely retreated to the camp, Saul following, trying not to get on his nerves too much. He was young, impressionable yet. Joining the Grey Wardens was still an honor to him. He was still amongst heroes.
It had yet to rot, to fester. He was not yet less than nothing. He was not yet the same as the evil he fought. He was not yet burning the Black City.
Lance had crossed that bridge long ago, had left it smoldering behind him. He was alone now. Had been for a long time.
And as he saw Velanna watching him, welcoming him back with a tight smile, and a curious nod to the man that followed him, he knew that he would be alone for a long while yet.
"He's comin' with us," said Lance, hooking his thumb at Saul. "Keep an eye on him. Have Cauthrien cut his balls off if he tries something."
Velanna nodded, grinning at Saul's discomfort. She took no small measure of joy from a human's plight. Even if she had come to understand them a little more.
Lilith sat watching him pass, caught the look in Velanna's eye as she followed Lance. And she grinned to herself, mentally making note.
"Oh! Are we to have more companions?" she asked, increasing her enthusiasm with each syllable.
"Shut up," Lance grunted. He pulled open the canvas flap to his tent, stepped inside. Velanna's gaze lingered, her finger running across her throat, the length of his scar. Lilith saw this, too.
And Velanna looked away, stepped into her own tent and didn't come back out for some time.
Saul was left sitting at the campfire next to Lilith. They looked at each other, both smiling at one another.
"Hello," he said. She grinned wide.
"Do you know how long a man can survive without functioning kidneys?" she asked. And Saul didn't talk to her again.