Title: Far From Home
Fandom: Galtar and the Golden Lance
Rating: G
Length: 580 words
Author notes: Ah, the super-obscure fandom of my heart...
Summary: On nights like this, her mind traveled over the miles and back to Dindal.



It was well past midnight by the time Galtar and Goleeta finally stopped to make camp. They had spent much of the day dodging Gurza patrols, and there was a chance that they were still in danger, but it would be foolish to keep pushing themselves in the dark and risk injury or worse, discovery. Better to stop and take their chances and hope to get some rest before continuing on in the morning.

She'd drawn the first watch, so Goleeta sat alone with her thoughts and the night while Galtar snatched a few hours of sleep.

On nights like this, she kept one ear open for the sound of danger approaching, but her mind traveled over the miles and back to Dindal. How far had she come? She did not know how fast Thork could carry them, and she did not know how much ground they had lost backtracking to avoid patrols and dead-ends. In the end she knew it didn't matter anyway.

Because no matter how far her quest took her, Dindal was always in her heart. Sitting there alone in the dark, with only the occasional snort from Thork for company, she closed her eyes and remembered... familiar places and smiling faces, the smell of the markets and the taste of her favorite foods. She remembered her father, her mother, her brother...

She pushed her way through the bitter sadness that grew within her, ignored the empty place where her heart had once been. All of the things she had ever held dear were gone. This was simple reality: Dindal was lost to her, and there was only one way to get it back.

She had forsaken that place like the rest of its people, though she had been the very last to flee. She missed her homeland as much as anything else she had lost to Tormack's cruelty, missed it so much that it continually encroached on her thoughts, but the desire for vengeance was stronger than the desire to go back to that empty and destroyed land. There would be time for Dindal later, when she had conquered Tormack and taken back what was hers, when it was safe to rebuild and to call her people home.

A touch at her shoulder told her that Galtar was awake. Could that much time really have passed, while she was lost in the memories of her past? It must have. So she shrugged, trying not to show how much he had startled her, and let Galtar take her place.

Her vigil was ended, and it was time to get what sleep she could before the sun rose and they were on their way again. Knowing full well that there was another long day ahead of her, she lay down and dreamed sweet dreams of Dindal restored, with Goleeta herself sitting on the throne and Galtar standing at her side, her golden champion, ever ready to help defend against the rise of another Tormack.

Goleeta woke with the sunrise, feeling surprisingly refreshed. She rose and greeted Galtar with a grim smile. Before long, they were on their way again. As Thork effortlessly carried them over the uncountable miles, Goleeta held her dream of Dindal in her mind and would not let it go. This dream would sustain her and keep pushing her forward against impossible odds. It was all she had left. And no matter what it took, she vowed that one day it would be her reality.