My Warden (COMPLETED)

Bloom

9:44 Orlais-Nevarra border

"Welp, that looks like the dreaded crossroads," Alistair called from his perch on a borrowed horse. He directed the bay further across the road to glare down at the jointing of two different highways. "How many undead do you think are buried under there?"

Lana urged their horse to follow the errant king, her thighs digging into the shared saddle. She slid from the moisture hanging in the wintry air, but Cullen reached out from behind her to offer a steadying hand. "I suppose this is where we part ways," Lana said to Alistair.

Her voice snapped him out of his attempt to glare into the ground and hunt for any skeletons waiting to pop out. He'd healed rather quickly from the poison, only a day down - she was proving less resilient. "Guess so," Alistair tugged on his reins until his horse butted up against Lana's. "I know you're going underground and all, but you'll be sending me letters, right? I'll go mad if I don't learn who the Countess wound up marrying."

"You could always read the book yourself," Cullen interrupted. Travel was slow, even with the horses, and somehow Lana found herself retelling nearly the entire plot of an old epic tale to Alistair to pass the time. She had no idea Cullen even listened until he'd fill in the occasional missed detail for Alistair.

Scrunching his royal nose up, he turned to Cullen, "You're going to miss me, templar. I just know it."

"And the sky could split in half and all the demons of the fade would fall from it," Cullen answered, his words light.

"Or an archdemon would crawl out of the depths of the deeproads and plunge all of us into a blight," Lana spoke up.

Alistair scratched the back of his head, "Or, or, someone could destroy the veil and plunge all of us into a magic infested world of...eh, I've got nothing. Lanny, get better, eat all the tiny cakes in Orlais, spend a month in their bath houses, and I'm serious about the Countess. She'd better not have wound up with that brutish Duke or so help me."

He reached across to pick up her hand, gently shaking it. The warmth of his skin washed over hers that were always trapped in cold now. Gloves seemed to be an inevitability in her future. Dropping her hand, Alistair turned to Cullen, "Can't say it's been fun, but...it worked out. For your sake you better treat her right, or--"

"Or you'll come after me and finish what you started?" Cullen asked. Lana wished she could spin around to see his face because his tone gave nothing away.

Alistair snorted, "Me? I was warning you. You're both off to visit with Her Hatness. She gets even a whiff of you not being, you know, up to snuff... Maker, I don't want to imagine what she'll dream up." Rolling his head, he turned his horse and began down the road towards Ferelden. "So long," he called, waving his hand while trotting away.

"For now!" Lana shouted out, struggling to rise up in the stirrups so he'd hear. As she slumped back, Cullen's hands enveloped around her stomach and she leaned against his steadying chest.

"How are you feeling? If it's too much we could rest," he said, his fingers sliding down her thighs to dig blood back into them.

Lana shook her head against his chest, almost lulled into agreeing by the warm musk radiating off him. "We have a long way yet to go. And I'm, I'm good."

His hands broke from the massage to wrap around her shoulders in a one sided hug. "Lana, you do not need to push yourself. Val Royeaux will remain even if we take another day or two to arrive."

"I know," she gripped the rather patient horse's reins in one hand to hold onto his crossed arms with the other. "Now that Alistair's gone, we could always, uh, enjoy our alone time."