Second Chance or New Beginnings?
Exiled to Orlais.
A year before the fifth blight, Lyla Rowan Guerrin, daughter of Eamon and Isolde, turned 20. Rowan, as she preferred to be called, was a tall, fiercely independent, young woman. She was a student of history, and read historical accounts on everything—of people, such as the Avvars, of places in Thedas and, of organizations such as the Grey Wardens, and events such as Blights.
When she was 16, Rowan was presented at court and refused to return to Denerim ever since. She had steadfastly refused to become some "nobleman's empty headed wife, who held salons, and birthed heirs." Her parents despaired of her and sent her to Orlais to live with her mother's family who they hoped would coax Rowan into finding an Orlesian husband or devoting herself to the Chantry.
There were two problems with this plan. The first was that Rowan thought that Chantry was idiotic in its insistence on praying to a god who supposedly turned his back on them. The second was that, despite her mother being from Orlais, Rowan hated all things Orlesian. While Rowan was in what she referred to as "exile" she decided to learn about Orlesian history as told by Orlesians.
One of the many things she read was the Orlesian account of the Rebellion, according to which, the Emperor, as his dying wish, granted Ferelden its freedom. She went on to read that King Maric was a good, if simple man, and that her namesake was a woman who did not know her place. However, it was Loghain Mac Tir for whom the quills of Orlesian historians penned their most vitriolic diatribes, writing about the dull-witted farmer who tried to exert influence far above his station. Rowan deemed it all rubbish.
Because her mother's family lived near the southeastern coast of Lake Celestine, Rowan spent much of her time in, or near, Montsimmard. It was there that she met the Grey Wardens. I know more about the Order, probably a bit more than I should. Rowan smiled. Who knew that the Orlesian Wardens only needed expensive ale and the sight of ample cleavage to loosen their tongues?
Trained to use two swords, as well as daggers, she was able to spar with some of the wardens, much to her family's distress. She was talented enough that Warden Commander Caron tried to recruit her. Rowan politely refused, glad the Warden Commander didn't try to conscript her. It isn't that I don't want to be a warden, it is more like I would rather gut myself with a rusted dagger than join the Orlesian Wardens.
Dreamers
It was during her time in Orlais when her dreams began.
Rowan would dream of battles she had never fought, where she was fighting with a sword, from horseback. In her dreams, she caught glimpses of a man, but all she could make out were his light-blue eyes. She dreamt of a wearing red silk dress, and of giving comfort to a blond-haired man, while light-blue eyes looked on with sorrow. None of the faces were clear, but she assumed they were dreams about her namesake, the King, and Teyrn Loghain, but she was never sure. The one thing of which she was certain was the look of the man's blue eyes. She shrugged off the dreams as a manifestation of her ire at the Orlesian historians.
Rowan haunted Loghain's dreams since the day she went back to Maric. Over the many years, as the memories faded, so did the vivid nature of the dreams. He remembered her being tall enough to look him directly in the eyes with her dark brown orbs. He remembered her luxurious chestnut hair that flowed down her back. He remembered the sound of her voice, and the red gown she'd worn that day. He couldn't' remember what the dress looked like, but the color never faded from his memory.
During, and after the Blight, Loghain's dreams about Rowan had changed. Rowan was younger, less world-weary. This Rowan, shared his fascination with maps. This Rowan liked many of the things he enjoyed. This Rowan still had that fiery nature and the uncanny ability read him like a book. More importantly, this Rowan chose him.
Return from Exile
The year after the Blight, Rowan's Orlesian family washed their hands of her and sent her back to Ferelden. When she returned to Redcliffe, her father had told her all that had happened during the Blight—what had happened to Connor and to him, how the two young wardens saved them both, and that one of the two wardens was Alistair. Alistair was a good kid. Mother's treatment of him was abhorrent, and father shipping him off to the Chantry was just as bad. I'm glad he is in the wardens.
What inexplicably tore at her heart was hearing her father talk about Loghain. Ever since she met him at court, she always has a soft spot for the taciturn, sharp-tonged Teyrn. Rowan never really gave it much thought until the dreams she had while in Orlais.
Her father called the Teyrn a 'power-crazed regicide.' Rowan had to admit to being puzzled at her father's poisoning, however, she steadfastly refused to believe that Loghain was responsible for the torture of Irminric and Oswyn, especially as they had happened at the hands of Rendon Howe. She also would not accept that Loghain intentionally abandoned Cailan. She had read enough military history, as well as the history of Blights, and the Rebellion to believe that had Loghain answered the signal, they would have lost most of the rest of the army. The only balm for her soul was that Loghain was still alive.
After her experience with the wardens in Orlais, and what she had heard about the Fereldan Wardens during the blight, she wanted to join them. When she told her parents, their reactions were as she expected—her father reminded her of her duty as heir to the Arling. Her mother thought that Rowan was possessed and wanted her to devote her life to the Chantry.
In the end, her father respected her wishes. Rowan suspected that her father's change of heart was due to her mother's desire to try to force their daughter into the Chantry. As the Arl knew, no one could force Rowan to do anything.
Two years after the blight, Rowan went to Amaranthine. She stayed in the city to find out what she could about the Fereldan wardens. She was surprised hear that the Warden Commander was also the Arl of Amaranthine. She wondered why her father hadn't mentioned this until she found out that Alistair Theirin was the Arl and Commander. She was also pleasantly surprised that Loghain was his Second, something else her father had neglected to mention. She also found out that Alistair's and Loghain's relationship was stained, and why.
The Fereldan Grey
It was about two years after the Blight. Aedan Cousland and Anora Mac Tir were on the throne, the succession sealed by the birth of two boys.
At the fateful Landsmeet, Aedan took the throne and accepted Loghain's surrender, Alistair stayed on to fight the Archdemon, although it required Aedan to literally tackle Alistair before as he left the castle, and fight with him until Alistair saw sense.
After the Blight, Alistair became Warden Commander. Alistair's Second was an Orlesian warden. Loghain went to Montsimmard. However a little over a year later, Loghain was reassigned to Ferelden and the Orlesian warden was called to Jader Alistair figured that Orlais had all they could take of Loghain, and while part of him felt failed to feel sorry for Orlais, the rest of him dreaded the man's return. At the continued urging of Varel and Nate Howe, Alistair made Loghain his second.
For the first year, calling their relationship stormy was like calling a fireball a warm breeze. Over time, with plenty of help from the King and Queen, Loghain and Alistair settled into a Commander-Second relationship, with all of their interactions kept strictly professional.
The Recruit
Alistair, buried in paperwork, had sent for Loghain.
"You sent for me, Commander?"
Alistair looked up. "We're expecting a potential recruit today. Please see to her."
"Does this potential recruit have a name, Commander?"
Even when Loghain is being formal, he is still a condescending ass. "Lady Guerrin. Arl Eamon's eldest. Dismissed"
Loghain nodded to Alistair and left the room. Eamon's daughter, wonderful, another warden who will hate me. He remembered Rowan from her court début. Eamon would name his daughter after his sister! After that he had no further interactions with her.
He waited. Just before lunch, he heard the call to open the gate, and went to meet the recruit.
The woman he saw waiting in the courtyard, made his heart skip a beat. She was tall; her hair was a thick and curly brown mane. Maker it's like seeing a ghost.
Loghain gathered his wits about him and went to greet her.
Rowan was momentarily speechless, when she found herself looking into to eyes of the man that had haunted her dreams for the last several years. It really was Loghain in my dreams.
For Loghain, looking into the recruit's dark brown eyes was like looking into her eyes. His voice was a bit horse. "You must be Lady Guerrin. Welcome to Vigil's keep. I am Loghain Mac Tir, Second in Command."
Even his voice was the same. "Good day, Warden Loghain. Please, call me Rowan."
He nodded towards the keep. "Lunch is being served; afterwards, I'll take you on a tour of the Vigil and you can tell me what brought you to the Wardens."
Rowan smiled. "Sounds good to me."
During lunch she met some of the other wardens. Anders and Oghren did their best to make her more comfortable. That it involved lurid opinions of the statue of Andraste, and descriptions of odiferous bodily functions, didn't matter. She too, had a bawdy sense of humor and laughed heartily.
Loghain and Rowan toured the Vigil and quickly fell into an easy rapport. Rowan talked about her time in Orlais, and her opinion of the country and its wardens. "Honestly, I think the Orlesians have raised insufferable arrogance to an art form."
This woman carries herself with the same grace and presence as her namesake. Even her voice was similar to Rowan Theirin's.
Loghain chuckled. "It seems Orlais has changed little. They still consider us to be barbaric dog lords."
"I prefer the smell the sweat from a hard day's work, or a dog, or newly planted fields, to any of the perfumes that seemed to permeate all of Orlais."
Loghain smiled in agreement.
To assess her fighting skills, they sparred briefly after their walk. She wielded two swords impressively, both in striking and in parrying. Her height is a huge advantage that she uses well.
Rowan's Joining was scheduled for tomorrow before breakfast, and Loghain fell into an uneasy sleep. Fear for Rowan fueling his typical darkspawn-filled nightmares.
Early the next morning, she underwent her Joining. When Varel said that she lived, Loghain let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, and whispered, "Praise the Maker."
Of Wardens and Farmers
Loghain and Rowan sat together during meal times and were frequently on watch together. Slowly, he began to see and appreciate the differences between Rowan and her namesake. Warden Rowan had a bawdy sense of humor, was a student of history, and was fascinated by maps, all things Loghain loved, but they were interests that neither his wife nor Queen Rowan ever shared. He saw Rowen Guerrin and Rowan Guerrin Theirin as two entirely separate people, and he found Rowan Guerrin fascinating.
In Rowan, Loghain had found a confidante and a friend. In Loghain, Rowan had found someone with whom she could talk to for hours and never run out of things to say.
As per the custom created by Alistair, a party was held on the first anniversary of a Warden's Joining. It was a year after Rowan's joining, and feasting, ale, and general merriment ensued. Everyone was having a grand time and, after a few ales, Flinn pulled out his lute and played good old Fereldan country-dance tunes. People were up and dancing, even Oghren, who still had his pants on.
There were more men than women, but there were several male wardens who were happy to step in. Rowan was a spirited dancer and while she usually partnered with Loghain, she poached many times. Rowan knew that Loghain deserved his reputation for being tough and taciturn, but the man that spun her across the floor that night was smiling and his beguiling blue eyes shone with joy.
The party began to wind down, a now pants-less Oghren was passed out, and people headed for bed. Rowan was looking out one of the windows at the clear night. She said to herself, "It would be a perfect night to just sit in the courtyard and look at the stars."
"It would, indeed."
Rowan started and turned. Loghain was standing behind her.
He held out his arm. "Shall we?"
Sitting in the courtyard, enjoying the star-filled sky, Rowan turned to Loghain. "I would never have pictured you dancing the the Black Nag, but you seemed so cheerful, like you were back in a happier time."
Loghain hung his head for moment.
Me and my mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't…"
He put a finger to her lips briefly. "I was just thinking how right you are; it was like going back in time." He looked up at the sky. "Would it surprise you that I never dreamed to be a soldier? When I was much younger, I wanted to be a farmer, still do. Then my mother was…killed, and we were arse deep in the rebellion."
For Rowan, something clicked into place. "So, in part, protecting and fighting for Ferelden is a way to protect others from needing to be soldiers."
His face relaxed into a smile. "You are the only one to understand that. Even Rowan didn't."
"I never asked. Is it hard to call me Rowan? You can use my first name if you like."
"What is your first name?"
"Lyla, and you avoided my question."
Loghain chuckled. "Well, as 'Lyla-and-you-avoided-my-question,' is too long to say, how about I just stick with Rowan?"
Rowan blushed. "After the rebellion, did you ever think about becoming a farmer?"
"Many times, but there were so many things that needed to be done. There was always something Maric needed, or Cailan needed. There was never any time."
"Have you ever thought of buying one of the farms next to the Vigil and splitting your time between the Keep and the farm?"
"What and leave the Commander without his Second at his beck and call."
Rowan flinched a little at sarcasm is his voice. "Couldn't you resign as Second?"
"What, and take away his whipping boy?" The bitterness in Loghain voice was clear.
"He can't punish you from now until your Calling."
"Can't he?"
"No. That would be conduct unbecoming of the Commander of the Fereldan Grey."
Loghain chuckled without mirth. "I presume you would be the one to tell him that?"
"Yes, without hesitation."
Loghain was surprised at her audacity and sighed. "It's nice to have someone on my side, for once." He gently brushed his hand across her cheek.
Rowan took that hand in hers, brought it to her lips, and looked into his eyes. "I…I had dreams about a man who I thought was you."
Arching an eyebrow. "Dreams? What kind? " He couldn't keep the smirk off his face.
She gently bumped his shoulder. "Not that kind…not that I wouldn't mind…Anyway, they were just hazy images. It was your eyes that I remembered the most."
Before the Blight, my dreams changed; I thought it was Rowan Theirin in my dreams, perhaps it wasn't.
He cupped Rowan's chin with his hand and brushed his lips against hers, looking in her eyes, hoping he hadn't gone too far.
Rowan saw the questioning look, and responded by gently pulling him towards her and kissing him.
Loghain depended the embrace. When they pulled apart, he cleared his throat. "If we are to continue this, I suggest we go somewhere less public."
He stood and helped pull her up from the ground. Rowan was tall enough that she could just about look him directly in eyes. He could see many things in those deep brown orbs, among them a life that would be worth living.
They walked into the Keep, each with their own thoughts. Rowan looked at Loghain. "Do you still want to…?"
Loghain pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she was breathless. "Does that answer your question?"
Rowan smiled and took him by that hand, leading him to her room, and for the rest of the night Loghain took the lead.
Wrapped up in each other's arms. He looked at Rowan. "I love you."
"As I do you, my Farmer."
She could feel the chuckle reverberate through his chest.
"Perhaps I'll do as you suggest. Alistair could use a Second he can stand, and the thought of tilling earth again feels almost right."
"Why almost?"
"How do you feel about tilling the earth with me?"
Rowan's response was not in words.
~oOOo~
AN: This was a CMDA Secret Santa fic from several years ago. Originally for Josie Lange