Now, some people might consider it grossly unfair that Loghain blames the amazingly funny fanfiction writer Enaid Aderyn for something that I actually wrote (see my short piece Left The Horns At Home) :) But given that Enaid was the one who specified Ovaltine as part of that writing challenge, I think she's got a hard time pleading innocence in this case... And if you haven't yet discovered her Mabari and Magus piece, go look for it, you are really missing out on something.

Darkness. Dripping water. Only one set of cuffs this time and the prisoner whose wrists are secured in them twists against the restraints. Distinctly cold, but since the prisoner is naked, almost any room with stone walls would be cold. And since the prisoner is blindfolded further details about the room are impossible to ascertain.

But the voice that is currently kindly lecturing the prisoner is unmistakeable and there is no need of sight to identify the speaker.

"Now...Enaid Aderyn, isn't it? I have to admit that up until now you had passed completely beneath my notice. Unsurprising really given everything that Josie and Shakespira have put me through...and one of these days I will have to have a very long talk with Tyanilth. But for now, let me explain why you're here."

He paces behind the captive. "One word, Enaid. One word. Ovaltine. Have you ever actually tasted it? Only the Orlesians could take milk, eggs and malt, all worthy ingredients in themselves, and combine them to produce something quite that disgusting. One almost has to have respect for their chef, that miracle of recombination took a certain degree of talent."

The footsteps come back round to the front and suddenly the blindfold is removed. The prisoner's wide, blinking eyes fix on Loghain's ice blue ones. The gag has not been removed. Loghain clearly has no plans to hear excuses or mitigating circumstances.

"And the worst of it, Enaid, is that I actually had to drink some of the bloody stuff. Under other circumstances I could simply have hidden the wretched muck in the chamber pot that they so kindly provided for me. But since I had already convinced them that I suffered from certain night-time...problems I had no doubt that whatever poor servant they coerced into cleaning the place in the morning was under strict orders to report on the state of the chamber pot, and I doubt very much that even the stupidest Orlesian could be convinced that the Hero of River Dane pisses Ovaltine. Nor was there a window that I could throw the stuff out of, there was no pot plant to tip it into, there was no Mabari to feed it to, and I doubt I could find a Mabari stupid enough to drink it. And Muirnara flatly refused to help. So I had to drink it. And I lay the stomach upset that I had for two subsequent days firmly at your door."

The captive whimpers behind the gag.

Loghain's voice is an amused purr as he looks at the table. "Now, Enaid, we have various ways of solving this...little difficulty."

He picks up the coiled black riding whip that is sitting on the table. "We can deal with this in one of three ways. I can send you home in as much discomfort as I was in for two days in Orlais..."

He puts down the whip again and picks up the mug that sits beside it. "Second possibility. I can make you drink a half pint of Ovaltine and let you off the whip if you manage to keep the stuff down for more than 20 minutes. And be warned..." The voice is colder now, "this is the *original* recipe..."

If the captive was able to plead for mercy, then the pleas would surely be coming by now.

Loghain chuckles. "Or of course, I can give you the same choice I gave Josie and Shakespira. You can accompany me into the adjoining bedroom and I can take off the gag, and you can think up a suitable apology. And I have to say the pair of them were amazingly, inventively apologetic. At length for most of the night. And one of them left behind a very fetching black lace undergarment which I would like you to return for me once we sort out this little...difference of opinion."

He pauses. "So, Enaid. One whimper for the first option. Two whimpers for the second. Three whimpers for the third. Which is it going to be?"

Three pitiful whimpers.

He laughs and tips the Ovaltine into a bucket. "And all I can say, Enaid, is that I am being far more merciful to you than you were to me."