Moments

Moment of Home

"Watch your flank," he shouted, yanking the reins of his horse to emphasize the order. The chastised soldier only rolled his eyes, but veered off into the bramble, not about to disobey the command.

I urged my horse closer to him and said softly, "Cullen, we're on the road. I think we're good."

"There have been reports of bandits in the area, and we need to remain sharp lest any catch us off guard." His eyes darted through the dappled bracken, clipped and maintained across both sides of the road. It seemed the least likely place in Ferelden for someone to spring out and demand your gold or your life, unless the bandit was very foolhardy or it was his first day.

"It's been, what, a year? Year and a half? I think we're safe from Corypheus, the Venatori, and any lingering Red Templars. Haven't even run across a rift in near on four months," I said. Clouds rolled away, casting a sunbeam across my face to beat warmth through the light leather armor. The ride had been near picture perfect, with even a few fluffy rabbits pawing adorably by the side of the road. Of course, that only gnawed deeper into my poor Commander's nerves who needed something to go wrong either to feel useful or to distract himself.

"That does not mean there are no other dangers. Rumors of a rise in darkspawn due to the loss of Grey Wardens in the area crossed my desk."

I cracked an eye from my sunbathing horse-side and spotted the lone cloud rolling above his head. "Are you all right?" I asked. "This was your idea."

Cullen glanced to our flanks, noting the men and women he scattered into the forest far enough away to not overhear us. The retinue, while only a few soldiers, was still far too much for this meager trip upon the King's road. But, over-planning made him feel better, and who was I to argue?

"I haven't seen them in a time, a very long time. I..." his fingers curled tight around the saddle horn, flicking at a tear in the leather.

With the grace of a bronto on ice, I reached over to hold his hand but bumped his elbow by mistake, nearly sliding out of my seat. Almost two years with the Inquisition and I still barely kept in the saddle. No wonder enemies were always throwing me off the damn thing. Righting myself I said, "It will be all right. It's your family."

His honey eyes turned to me and he smirked, "Because the visit from yours was no trouble."

"Ouch," I laughed. "Low blow. Fine, if your sister and brother intend to drag you away from me to lead some city-state they're forming then I'll concede your point."

"I'm uncertain who to root for," Cullen admitted, smiling softly at me. But there was a tinge still, a bead of worry that creased his brow if talk of the future ever crossed our lips. I gave him my word that if or when I intended to return to the clan I'd tell him. That he would be a part of my plans, but some nights he'd grip tighter to me, as if afraid I might vanish into the darkness without a word.

"Always side with the Inquisitor," I quipped, spurring my horse past him. Ferelden's winding landscape shifted, and I twisted my horse past a copse of trees that had no intention to move for the road. Further in the distance I spotted a massive wooden gate embedded into a rocky cliffside to the left. The door was thrown open and a few carts squatted in the way of it. They looked immobile, chickens pecking around the road's grit beside their broken wheels.

Spinning in my saddle, I watched the prick of nostalgia bloom to sweet remembrance across Cullen's face. "Honnleath," he declared, gesturing to the village we'd set out for. The other soldiers pulled in closer, guiding their horses into a formation unlikely to make it through the gate. But it wouldn't do well for the Inquisition to have a shabby presentation even if it was just for a small village in the farming hills. I tried to slow my horse up so Cullen could take the front, but the soldiers pressed in. There was no choice but for me to continue leading. Story of my life.