Written for the anon who wanted Loghain eating ice cream. Probably a bit sadder than they wanted, oops. Suddenly thought of Kieran, so here we are.
Sleeping was difficult now. Some of it was the darkspawn nightmares, some of it was the old age, and some of it was memories of his sins come back to haunt him.
The boy- his boy, he knew, was playing in the Skyhold garden. He liked to come here to rest, and, if he was honest with himself, to catch up on the sleep he'd missed the night before. With his reputation, few approached, and he was always able to catch a bit of shut-eye. The Inquisitor took their time hunting for Venatori or minerals or whatever they did, after all. He would be there for weeks.
The boy looked over at him. It was no accident, and Loghain shifted on his bench. The child had deep, dark eyes.
When he looked away again, Loghain breathed a sigh of relief and shut his eyes. Before he knew it he was dozing off to the soft chirping of birds and the quiet chatter of people talking.
When he woke, the child was staring at him, except now he was about fifteen inches from Loghain's face. Loghain narrowed his eyes, heart rate increasing.
"You can't sleep," said the boy. "Even though you're tired."
"You've noticed," he said dryly.
"You're so tired," said the boy. "Inside, too. Doesn't it hurt to think?"
"I do my best," he replied, rolling his eyes and straightening up on the bench.
It was then that he noticed that the boy- Kieran, if he remembered correctly, was holding two cones of ice cream. He had only had that type of sweet once or twice- it was a difficult confection to master, and he had rarely had the time or want for such a thing.
"I brought this for you," said Kieran. He sat on the bench, eyes trained on Loghain. "Maybe it will help."
The boy knew. His mother hadn't told him, but he was a strange child, and he knew. Loghain had not often thought of his second child, to be honest. He'd known Morrigan would be a competent mother. With this fragile child so nervously holding an ice cream cone out for him, he began to regret that.
He took the cone, his large calloused fingers brushing those small childish hands. Anora's hands had been that size, long ago. He had been embroiled in his own anger, his own terrors, at the time. When you're in war for years it doesn't stop the day the battle is won, and he spent much of the early years avoiding the peace he had earned.
Kieran was watching him still, so he began eating the ice cream. Too fast, it turned out, a throbbing pain entering his head. He paused and motioned for Kieran to eat his.
"Where'd you get it?" he asked finally.
"The kitchens," said Kieran. "A sad woman there likes me. She's less sad after I visit, though. Will that work for you?"
"It might," he said. It might do the opposite.
"Do you want more?" said Kieran. "I can bring it again tomorrow. I can bring it…" His eyes weren't strange, Loghain realized, they were sad. Hopeful.
"Bring it every day if you want," he said. "I'll be here."
The shy smile on the boy's face was familiar. Loghain smiled back. It wasn't much, but it was something.