Title: Rewind To Springtime
Author: Donnie
Fandom: Dragon Age
Setting: Loghain's Bedroom
Pairing: Loghain Mac Tir/Maric Theirin
Characters: Loghain Mac Tir, Maric Theirin
Genre: Romance
Rating: K
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 320
Type of Work: Daily Drabble
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Introspection, Insomnia, Maric-Centric, Established Relationship
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Maric could always count on Loghain, even now.
AN: So, I had this sitting around for a while, it was a daily drabble I had written on paper. I've always got little things sitting around. I think writing on paper is more cathartic for me than anything, and I'm trying to get back into it. I hope you guys enjoy!
Rewind To Springtime ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Maric had never been good at being alone. He liked being king if only for the company. Most especially the company of Loghain Mac Tir. The man was a spitfire, the one person that didn't walk on eggshells for him. Even now, laying in the dark beside him, Loghain was a force to be reckoned with. Holding Maric in place as he slept, he kept a firm arm wrapped around the king's back. It prevented the wild thrashing that always kept them both up all night, the way that the blond slept like noodles. He'd start in one spot, pin straight, and by the time he kicked Loghain quite literally out of bed, he'd have taken up the whole bed.
At least the sentiment kept a smile on Maric's face. Count on Loghain to be able to ground him, even when he couldn't sleep. He really was a special man. The Maker smiled upon him when he granted him such a perfect general. 'Lover' and 'friend' were just added bonuses.
Sometimes, Maric wondered just what would have happened if they had met in different circumstances. Would they be in this bed right now? Would they even continue to know each other? Would it have been passing interest and nothing more? He very vividly remembered Loghain hating his guts for a long time. Then again, the man was about as emotionally intelligent as a piece of stale bread. For all Maric knew, that was his way of saying how pretty Loghain thought he was, how he was spectacular at his own things, if not fighting. It could have meant anything.
But it was these moments that meant everything to him. Loghain snored above him, Maric's head tucked underneath his chin, and the blond sighed in contentment. Even if he couldn't sleep, there was no one he would rather be held steadfastly by in the wee hours of the morning.
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