Sacrifice
Loghain knocked on the door to Anora's private quarters, his heart heavy. He'd spent the evening pacing around the castle in an attempt to prepare himself for a conversation he did not want to have. It was a conversation he did not know how to have. How in Andraste's name is a father supposed to tell his daughter that he is going to die? Especially after she'd begged that Cousland wretch to spare his life.
Oh, this was going to be more difficult than facing the Archdemon. That was for certain.
She's the Queen, and he knew it was her job to deal with the harsh realities of life. But it was difficult for Loghain to think of her as anything other than his little girl. The same little girl who chased butterflies in the garden and who enthusiastically greeted him every time he returned home to Gwaren. He liked to remember her that way, before her duty to Ferelden and Cailan's many indiscretions weighed her spirit down.
Erlina, her elven handmaiden, opened the door. She took one look at Loghain and backed up, "Teryn Loghain," she bowed her head and stepped aside to allow him entrance.
"Thank you, Erlina," Loghain said, making no attempt to hide the disdain in his voice, and not bothering to correct her on his title. He was a Warden, he had no title- and no future. "I would like to speak with the Queen alone, if you don't mind."
Anora rose from her seat near the window, looking as regal as she always did in a blue, silk gown with a delicately embroidered collar. "Go on, Erlina," she watched the elf leave before addressing Loghain. "I didn't expect to see you until morning," she said with a tired smile. "I had assumed you would be planning strategy with the Wardens all night."
Loghain crossed the room and motioned for his daughter to sit. "I have been. But- I have something I need to tell you."
She sat down, watching her father with a penetrating gaze that was not unlike his own. Loghain sat in a chair across from her and took a deep breath.
"Father, you're making me nervous. I know when you're preparing to deliver bad news."
"Am I that obvious?" Loghain asked, annoyed with himself.
"A little," she admitted.
"Anora," he began. "I have spoken with the other Wardens, and after some discussion, it's been decided that I will be the one to strike the killing blow on the Archdemon."
"I'm surprised. I'd thought the Cousland boy would be chomping at the bit for a piece of the glory," she remarked, her lip curling slightly at the thought of the man. "Or is he too cowardly to face the Archdemon?"
"The man may be despicable, but he's no coward, Anora." Loghain said, shifting in his seat. "I suggested that I make the killing blow, and he agreed."
She smiled softly. "Being the Hero of River Dane isn't enough for you? I suppose the Hero of Ferelden has a nice ring to it."
"I am not doing this for titles or glory."
Anora's smile faded, her fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of her dress. "There's more to this, isn't there?"
Loghain nodded. "I cannot share the specifics, but something happens to Wardens when they kill an Archdemon. The Warden who strikes the killing blow does not survive," he paused for a beat, his cold, blue eyes meeting hers. "I will not survive."
Loghain watched as a myriad of emotions passed over his daughters lovely face. From disbelief, to grief, then finally anger. "No," she snapped. "Why you? Why not Riordan or Cousland? Why does it have to be you?"
"Because," he leaned forward and took his daughter's hands in his. "Anora, I have done so much wrong. I just want the chance to do something right."
She laughed bitterly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Sacrificing yourself is not the only way to make things right, father."
"Anora-" Loghain closed his eyes. He hated this. Hated knowing that he was once again causing his daughter pain. There was, in fact, another way. But he's certainly not going to tell his daughter about Morrigan's offer, nor was he going to take the witch up on it. No. It was better for him to perish than continue to live with the knowledge that somewhere there was a child - his child - with the soul of an Old God trapped inside. "There is no other way," he said calmly. "I just wanted to tell you first. I wanted you to know what to expect."
Anora's shoulders trembled as her tears started to fall. "So that's it then? You're going to die..."
"To save Fereldan-" he paused, his heart aching at the sight of his daughter's tears. "To save you."
She looked away from him at that, and wiped her eyes. His poor girl. She'd already lost so much; her mother, Cailan, and now she had to accept that her father would be dead by the next sunset.
But Loghain couldn't see another option. If he did survive this battle, what then? He'd travel with the Wardens for a time, fighting Darkspawn and all manner of vile creatures. But he knew his Calling would come for him sooner rather than later and he did not want to wait to fall apart once the taint had finished ravaging his body, and he didn't want to die fighting the Darkspawn in the Deep Roads.
He wanted to die on his own terms. He wanted to die on Ferelden soil and beneath the Ferelden sky.
Finally, after many minutes Anora turned to him. "I was so lost after Mother died and you were the one who kept me from falling to pieces," she gasped, wiping at her eyes. "You were there for me when Cailan died, and- I'll fall apart without you."
"No you won't. You're my daughter and you are strong," he said firmly. "You will get through this, and you will continue to rule Ferelden as you always have. You don't need me around to be a good leader, Anora."
Anora took a deep, shuddering breath and threw her arms around Loghain. In that moment she was not the Queen, but his little girl, and she needed her father to be strong for her. If he could do nothing else for her, he could at least hold his daughter as she cried.
Notes: This was written for a prompt on tumblr. I liked it well enough, so I thought I would share it here. I hope you enjoy it! Writing in past tense is very strange for me (I prefer present), but it was a nice change of pace.