My Warden (COMPLETED)

Stayed Safe

9:44 Anderfels

Splashing echoed off the few trees providing a modicum of modesty. The king lay stretched out upon his bedroll, his skin clammy and yellow but looking far better than he had inside the fortress. He had explicit orders to remain seated at all times or... Neither of them knew what came after the or, but they didn't want to ask either.

Cullen sat perched upon the ground, his back turned to the woman trying to bathe two years worth of the fade off her skin. He kept close to hear her in case she slipped or needed help, and because she didn't want to be alone. They set up the camp near the edge of the river for that very reason. They, ha. As the only one capable of walking without assistance Cullen did most of it, having to help first Alistair, then...then her, and finally Honor out of the hole and to daylight. A warm sunset hugged the horizon, threatening to dip down into a chilly night, but for now they had a rosy glow to match a massive question hanging over their heads.

"How are you getting on?" Alistair shouted, his hands cupped over his mouth while he gazed up at the sky.

"Are you talking to me?" Lana called back, her voice strained but growing stronger with each passing moment. She'd drank both of their water skins dry and it still wasn't enough to refill her dehydrated body. Maker only knew how long it'd been since she'd had a real drink, a real meal, a real...anything.

"Who else would I be asking? Captain Sullen over here?" Alistair called.

"That's Commander Sullen," he shot back, trying to keep up with the ease with which the old...whatever they were fell into conversation.

It had to be his ears knocking against his heart, but he thought he heard a snicker from Lana before she smacked her fist against the water. "Going pretty good. Got at least an inch of the grime off, only another five more to go. And this is delicious!" Chewing sounds followed her statement, as she was probably finishing off the last of their rations. After holding her brittle frame, his fingers tugging against her gaunt cheeks, they were both happy to watch it all vanish into Lana's malnourished stomach.

Cullen shook his head and he raised his voice, "All that time and your first meal out of the fade is hardtack. Seems particularly cruel."

"Actually," Alistair rolled over to the side to look at him but didn't raise his head off the ground, "she loves that stuff."

"You must be kidding," Cullen grimaced. Hardtack was what you ate because it was preferable to starving. Durable, long lasting, tough as shoe leather but somehow tasteless. No one bothered to add any spice to it, because no one wanted to face the dangerous reality of one day needing to eat it. Armies marched to get away from hardtack.

"Ate her damn weight in it during the blight," the man who knew her inside and out said before shrugging his shoulders and dropping back down to the ground.

"I know you two are talking about me," Lana shouted from her private grotto. "This is rather idiotic all around. It's not as if you haven't seen me naked before."

Cullen pinched his hand to try and compete with the cauldron of emotions rampaging through his system. He wasn't certain if he should be ecstatic, scared, lost, or grateful so he tried for all at once.

"All right," Alistair cut through his mental turmoil, "what's your theory?"

"My what?" Lana asked, more chewing sounds punctuating her question.

"We've been out of the fortress for a few hours now, and I know you swiped some of their literature. You've got to have figured out what that Iquo whatever was built for, how it failed, and if we're about to have some world ending catastrophe on our hands. I hope it's something new, like gigantic baby nugs that can crush cities under their creepy feet."