Chapter Text
“No!” Camber screamed. As she knelt beside her wounded father, her dark eyes darted between Bryce and Duncan, a mix of fury and sorrow coalescing into tears that threatened to spill over. She threw her arms around her parents. “I’m not leaving them!”
Bryce lifted his head towards his daughter. “Pup—” his voice hitched, and he began hacking into Eleanor's bosom as she cradled him. Eleanor's silvery hair hung wildly about her shoulders, and she, too, sobbed through clenched teeth. When Bryce lifted his head once more, Camber saw the crimson outlining every tooth, as well as that which now stained her mother's clothing. A punctured lung, then. He's... dying.
“You—you must go, now!” Bryce finally stammered.
“I won’t!” Tears now streamed down her face to the corners of her lips, and she involuntarily licked the moisture. It was a mistake, she realized, because she tasted not only salt, but oil and blood and dirt, as well. Behind her, Judex whined and nuzzled her foot. “You cannot make me! I shall die here with you, if I must!”
Eleanor strained against Bryce's faltering weight as she desperately tried to keep him upright. "Camber, please... be... reasonable." She paused, taking a moment to catch her breath. "Oren and Oriana have been lost to us already, do not succumb to their fate out of nobility." Her emerald eyes looked unwaveringly into Camber's deep brown ones, and she smiled sadly. "It's all right, my love. We're going to be all right."
“A Cousland… always does her duty first," Bryce managed to declare between fits of coughing. "Defeat the darkspawn, aye?… and then see to it that Rendon pays for his treachery.”
Duncan looked down at the trio who sobbed and clutched each other as though... as though it would be their last chance to do so. And it very well might be.
Camber’s lips quivered as she struggled to breathe evenly. “Father, Mother,” she murmured, and kissed each of their cheeks. "I love you both... please don't leave me. Please.”
"I love you... my darling girl..." said Bryce.
Eleanor pressed her forehead to her daughter's nose before kissing her on the crown of her head. “And we love you. Now go!”
For their part, neither Duncan nor Lyra had made a sound during the emotional exchange. When Camber stood and turned to face them, neither of their faces betrayed emotion. It stung, to think that neither of them felt her grief. Well, fine. She did not need their pity. Camber waited for a moment, expecting Duncan to lead his two Warden-recruits. She then realized that they were waiting for her.
“The servant's exit is this way,” Camber stated flatly. “Come, Judex,” she said to her dog. She led Duncan and Lyra to the kitchens, and she snatched a burlap sack and began filling it with dried meat and produce, knowing full well that Judex would eat most of the meat. Camber voiced that was at least ten days on horseback to Ostagar, and they likely wouldn’t stop for a long time – perhaps until Kinloch Hold, or Redcliffe. Duncan nodded, and grabbed a sack; Lyra only followed suit after Duncan. She preferred to sneer at everything, it seemed. Camber then led them to the servant’s exit. Not bothering with the latch, she kicked the door open and stepped into the cool, night air.
That the Warden had been here had been a… complication. Rendon hadn’t intended on making enemies of the Wardens; but Duncan had shown up uninvited, so he would pay the price of his... discourtesy.
“Captain Kerin,” Rendon barked. “Where are they?”
Rendon had hidden himself in one of the offices on the second floor of the castle. He leaned forward onto a modest desk with fists atop a detailed map of the castle. Aside from three chairs, two bookshelves, and a potted plant, the room was otherwise sparsely decorated.
Kerin saluted his Arl. “Arl Howe, ser. The Teyrns Cousland were found in the larder." He paused before continuing, partly to gauge Howe's mood, and partly because he knew he wouldn't be pleased with the next part: "The Teyrn is gravely wounded, and the Teyrna has been captured.”
Rendon grimaced. “Bryce… was not… to be harmed.” Each word came out slowly, through gritted teeth. Rendon’s anger was on the verge of boiling over.
Kerin noticed it immediately, and he knew better than to let Rendon’s wrath manifest. “Rendon—my lord—the man who injured Teyrn Cousland has been dealt with already.”
“Good.” Rendon breathed deeply before speaking. “And what of the girl?”
Again, Kerin paused.“Camber Cousland… is nowhere to be found.”
“WHAT?!” Rendon grabbed the potted plant atop the desk and smashed it upon the ground. The shattered clay spread over the wooden floor, and dirt found its way into the cracks and crevasses. Kerin shook some of the soil from his leather boots and maintained a straight face. “How?!” Rendon seethed. “Nevermind that. Find her.”
Kerin waited for his lord’s composure to return... he knew from experience that Rendon needed time to process information, especially when that information was negative. “I have already sent scouts, my lord. I have instructed them to report to me as soon as she has been captured.”
Rendon sighed. “What of the Warden?”
“Unaccounted for as well, my lord.”
Damn that, as well. Nothing was going to plan! The approaching blight had presented the perfect opportunity, and despite his cunning, he hadn't accounted for imbecilic soldiers who couldn't control their own weapons. “Thank you, Captain," Rendon said with a sigh. "Take me to Bryce.”
“At once, my lord.” Kerin motioned for Rendon to follow, and he led the Arl through Highever Castle to the larder. Teyrn Bryce had been administered poultices to staunch the bleeding, but it wouldn’t be long before he died – not unless a mage were nearby, or the Maker himself intervened. Teyrna Eleanor had put up a fight and killed four of his men before she was overwhelmed. Her hands were bound, and she had been gagged – she had torn the flesh from one of his men’s arms with her teeth. She was spirited, Kerin gave her that.
When Rendon entered, he saw beads of sweat on Bryce’s deathly pale skin, and his breaths were shallow and uneven. Eleanor had given up on fighting, it seemed. Whether her will was sapped, or her strength had failed, no one could tell; but Rendon knew better than to assume either of those things were true.
“Leave us,” Rendon ordered. He knew his men wouldn’t give him complete privacy, but he could hope they wouldn’t overhear this exchange.
When Rendon had spoken, Bryce’s crystalline blue eyes had slowly opened. He looked at his old friend, and coughed before he spoke. “Rendon, why?”
Two words—two words were all it took to nearly break him. “Because,” Rendon whispered, and turned his gaze to Eleanor. He stared into those brilliant green eyes, framed by her tender face and once-blonde curled hair. Eleanor's nostrils flared as she bit down on the cloth which kept her from speaking.
“You took everything from me.”