My Warden (COMPLETED)

Failure

It stung less than she expected. Spring's thaw muddied the ground making traveling unpleasant; but the warm air, chirping birds, and fresh energy made up for the water weeping into her boots. She wrapped her hands around herself, a chill off the lake curling through her thin cloak. It wasn't really a lake, not an official one, and not on any maps. More an overgrown pond with lofty ambitions, at least that was how Alistair described it to her. They'd slipped away from the campsite and especially away from the others so he could show it to her. It was one of his favorite spots when he was a boy. He'd even tried to carve his name into a tree beside the watery edge. Her fingers drifted across the ALIS embedded in the wood. He wasn't good at finishing things.

Lana heard the sound of armored boots squelching in mud and metal clanging together keep the wearer upright. She turned from her vantage point to gaze off the cliff at the sound's source below. It was only a day and half before she heard an answer back from one of the beacons. One of her wardens accepted her meeting and they'd set the date for as soon as possible. Using this lake was her way of ensuring it was one of hers, very few knew its exact location. She said she'd go alone, but...Lana sighed, watching the blonde head bobbing along the marshland that was once forest. Someone wouldn't let her.

"I'm up here," she called to Cullen. His head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes against the afternoon sun. The watery sounds, like custard dropped in hose and slapped against the wall, followed his footsteps as he struggled up the grassy hill. The soldiers followed close on his heels, but none seemed particularly happy about Lana's spot.

As he reached the rocky edge his fingers flattened against the nearly unscalable cliff. Lana dropped to her knees and extended a hand to him. He gripped tight despite the wet gloves and together she hauled him up the crystal surface of the lake. The area was hidden atop a cliff that seemed insurmountable unless you knew about the secret path. Even then, one needed a bit of climbing equipment or a good jump to get up there. Alistair had wedged some of Zevran's old daggers into the rock for leverage when he first showed her. The assassin took the news rather well while twisting around his bent blades. He only hid four frogs in Alistair's bedroll as retribution. This time Lana used magic to assist her.

"I thought clandestine meetings were held in the depths of night," Cullen grumbled as he squinted at her through the burning rays. He'd tossed off that furry surcoat of his, but the piles of metal did no one any favors in the rising heat.

"Not enjoying the return of summer?" Lana asked, grateful to be in her messenger outfit. The linen against her arms breathed better than any leather would.

"Summer is fine, but to come from the mountain into this warmth takes a bit of adjusting."

Lana extended her hand towards the lake, "There's water to cool off. Just strip off your armor and dive in." The moment the words left her, she frowned at her impetuous tongue. Sweet Andraste, no. Do not start this again!

"That, uh..." He blinked against the offending light of the sun and glared at the still surface of the pond. "I am good, fine, it's not an issue." Shaking his head, he turned his wrath upon the two soldiers still below. "Cobby! Nollins!" That must have been the two soldiers' names as they both whipped their heads up at the commander and saluted. "No, don't bloody waste time...get up here."

"Right, Ser. We, uh, we're not sure how precisely," one of the soldiers called out.

Cullen's dumbstruck face was priceless. "You climb," he sneered down at them and then shook his head at Lana.

"You brought them," she whispered to him.

"Do not remind me," he added back. His breath warmed her cheek he spoke close so the soldiers wouldn't overhear the confidence their commander failed to have in them.