My Warden (COMPLETED)

Where It Began

It would have been more poetic if a sunrise greeted them as they emerged from the depths of the deep roads. Instead, the afternoon sun blazed down through the red cliffs crowded around them. If he'd stepped out an hour earlier or later, the light would have been blocked by the rocky precipices instead of into his eyes. They'd only been in the darkspawn lair for a day and a half but it felt a week passed. Cullen glared at the sun when he should have felt ecstatic at seeing it again.

A hand gently tapped his arm and he turned away from the sky. Lana had remained silent through their climb out of the deep, only gesturing to some danger or drop off and trusting he'd remain close enough without losing her. He had only the drum of his shoes upon the ground to keep him company through a mile of climbing back to the surface. By the summer day light her cheeks appeared wan, her eyes blotted and strained. She thinned her lips in a restrained thought, probably one he didn't want to hear. He'd tried to think of something to say to her as they walked away from the mage's body, but every idea warped in his mind into only renewing their buried argument. After a time, Cullen decided that if she wanted to talk she'd say something and it was best to let sleeping mabari lie.

"We can continue along this dried riverbed," Lana said, her voice rough as the rocky edge. "There's no need to climb the cliffs."

"No?" Cullen rolled his shoulders, trying to waken his strained muscles. At this point, the best his arms could offer was a meager shrug, scaling anything was out of the question.

"No death defying leaps off crumbling stairs this time," she sighed and tapped her fingers against his arm.

"Oh, that's almost. I mean, it wasn't so..." She wanted something, she needed something from him. For the Maker's sake, say it! "Where are we?" Not that.

Lana didn't catch on to the internal war ravaging behind Cullen's eyes. She slipped ahead of him and waved a finger that he should follow. Silently, she led him down the dead riverbed while limping over the red clay cracked like broken eggshells. It wasn't until they'd stepped out of the tower that Cullen realized she'd been injured in their fight against White. Lana silently tied up her ankle and relied upon her staff to support her. She didn't turn to him once for help.

Pausing at the edge of the riverbed where the land fell away as if a giant snatched it up, Lana pointed a finger below them. Cullen sidled up beside her and a southern wind blasted sea salt into his eyes. Gulls shrieked above the clouds while dipping in and out of masts of ships decorated with the flags of Nevarra, Kirkwall, and Ferelden. Despite over five years in Kirkwall, his knowledge of ships reached somewhere in the 'that's a big one, and that's a little one' range. There were a lot of big ones bobbing along the sea, most glinting in the glare of the sun off the calm waters. A handful of the smaller ones took up near the coast itself, the wooden docks extended like a complicated maze into the sea.

"Cumberland, or near enough to count," Lana said. She peered over the edge down at a dozen dock workers scrabbling against cargo. Two elves held a box between them, the crates marked with the symbols of every port they'd ever landed in, while a qunari of all things stood stone still watching over them. Lana pinched her nose and sighed, "I wonder sometimes if they have any idea how easily all of this could fall. Without the grey wardens maintaining the seals on the deep roads..." Her thoughts trailed off as she watched a box slide off the ramp and bowl through the elves. The qunari tipped her foot up and stopped the box without shifting.

"I..." Cullen understood her message and why she brought him here without her having to say it. He threw his shoulders back to stand in attention in the hope that would blot away the regret blooming in the back of his mind. "I can...shall take a ship back to Kirkwall."