Title: Truth or Dare: Chapter 3
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Dragon Age belongs to Bioware, I'm making no profit.
Author's Notes: I strike again. Cyber-Cookies for who finds the nod towards Tolkien.
Thanks to mille libri for betaing, you're the best!
Truth or Dare
by owlet
Ceridwen was quite disoriented when she woke. She was snuggled up against a warm, solid body, but her head was spinning.
She tried to remember. Ah yes, Truth or Dare, kissing Loghain, then...
Oh Maker.
She had ... she had ... slept with Loghain.
Oh Maker.
She looked up at him. He was still asleep, his face relaxed and kind of alluring without the scowl. And his lips...
No. She had to get out of here before he woke and came to his senses. They had both been quite drunk, after all.
Gingerly she slipped out of his arms and got to her feet, the room spinning around her. Oh damn. She lurched forward behind the paravent just in time to spew the contents of her stomach into his washing-bowl. Retching helplessly she heard a rustle behind her and then two hands brushed her hair out of her face and held it behind her.
Ceridwen was close to crying. She had never been that humiliated in her whole life. When she was only dry heaving, she stood up carefully and took deep breaths of air. Loghain let go of her hair, went to his night-stand, and came back with a glass of water.
"Here. Take a few sips. You're probably going to bring that up again, but you should be all right after that."
"Thank you," she whispered, taking the glass from him with a badly shaking hand, and sipped carefully. Tears were streaking down her face and she wiped them off awkwardly. Loghain took the glass from her, set it down, and pulled her to lean against his chest. A few moments later she was doubled up over the basin again.
"Somebody please kill me," she muttered when she came back up.
"It can't be all that bad. Rinse."
She did so.
"Now go back to bed. I'll take care of this."
Ceridwen briefly considered defying him, getting dressed and leaving, but she felt too wretched; she probably wouldn't make it to her room. So she simply did as he'd said and crawled back under the blankets, trying to get her shivering under control.
Loghain rejoined her after chucking her mess out of the window into the flowerbeds below.
"I'm so sorry," she said miserably, hiding her face in the pillow.
He snorted and kissed the nape of her neck as he wrapped himself around her from behind.
"You're hardly the first woman I've seen vomiting."
Mulling the situation over, she came to the conclusion that she felt strangely reassured. He hadn't ridiculed her, hadn't tossed her out on her ear (or ass), had taken care of her; and now he was holding her gently, kissing her shoulders.
Her nerves calmed and so did her stomach, he'd been right about that. She still felt as weak as a kitten.
"How do you feel?"
"Awful. But getting better," she answered.
"Good to hear it. You should try to get some more sleep, it's still early."
DA:O
Oghren was quite amused at the cloud-heads he was sharing the breakfast-table with. They only nibbled at the delicious food, and whenever he took a sip of his morning-ale, they went an interesting shade of green. Wynne was sitting nearby, looking as calm as usual. He'd seen neither hide nor hair of the rest of his companions.
No, there was Ceridwen, accompanied by Loghain. Oghren sighed. He'd never get a word out of that one concerning the juicy bits.
He glanced over at Wynne and saw that her face was pinched in displeasure now, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Ceridwen and Loghain sat down across the table. The Warden looked a little peaky and ... was that a love-bite on her neck? Oghren grinned.
"Hello there. Had a good night?," he asked wriggling his eyebrows.
"Meddle not in the affairs of mages; they are subtle and quick to anger," the Warden replied letting a flame dance around her fingers.
"Just asking," the dwarf grunted. "You were more fun when you were drunk."
Ceridwen chose some scrambled eggs and bread and slowly began to eat.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You sent Her Majesty and Alistair into a cupboard," he chuckled, "Where they indeed made out. And when I came back from getting myself another pint, they were both gone. You were gone, Leliana and Zevran were gone, so I suppose everybody had a very good night indeed. Oh, look."
Ceridwen turned around and saw the Queen and Alistair entering the room. She was as regal and pristine as always, he was slightly hunched with a small grin and a blush affixed to his face. No question what had happened there.
Glancing over at Loghain, Ceridwen was slightly disturbed at his expression – she'd seen thunderclouds look cheerier. He got up abruptly and left without a word before the couple could reach the table.
"Good morning, Warden, Wynne, Oghren," the Queen greeted them cordially, "I trust you slept well?"
A chorus of "Yes, Your Majesty," answered her and Oghren could see Ceridwen blush. Ha, there were definitely juicy bits there.
"Warden, I have news for you, please come and see me later," the Queen added in Ceridwen's direction and passed on to her seat at the head of the table, Alistair waved shyly and blushed harder, trailing behind her.
"Ceridwen, what were you thinking?," Wynne hissed disapprovingly.
"I wasn't," Ceridwen answered and put her fork down. She got up and Oghren briefly watched her go, taking another sip of ale. Ah, whatever.
DA:O
Anora finished her breakfast feeling rather satisfied. Alistair had proven to be very sweet and honest, even if he was a little naïve. Once she had made him open up a little, it became apparent to her that he had a good head on his shoulders and that his stupidity was just an act, one ingrained in him since his early childhood. She had never liked Arl Eamon, but now she liked him even less; King Maric had trusted him to take care of his bastard son – and Eamon had not done right by Alistair by a long shot. A part of her wondered what it had been like for him as a little boy, disregarded and unloved, and what would be different about him, had he known a proper family.
She herself had never doubted that her father loved her, even if he had been hard on her at times and had never been one to openly express his feelings. But she knew that she'd had him twisted around her little finger since before she could walk, that there wasn't much he wouldn't do for her.
Cailan's death and her father's part in it had caused a rift between them, one she hoped they could mend in time; but the way he'd stormed off a few moments ago made her worry.
Her thoughts shifted to what she planned to tell the Warden. It hadn't been difficult to convince Alistair that this was a good idea; he'd been all for it once she had mentioned another reward for the Hero of Ferelden.
She rose and glanced affectionately at her Betrothed, who was still enjoying his breakfast. Better to go and look for Ceridwen, no time like the present after all.
DA:O
Ceridwen ambled through the palace vaguely on the way to the Queen's chambers. She was so deep in thought, that she didn't notice the looming figure approaching her purposefully.
Loghain grabbed Ceridwen by the neck and pushed her against the wall.
"You sent that mongrel into a cupboard with my daughter?"
"I told you, it was just a game," she croaked, the metal of his gauntlet digging into her skin. "Besides, they are going to marry!"
"That is completely beside the point," he growled, releasing her.
"Father!"
Anora had just appeared from behind and she looked furious.
"It isn't as if Alistair dragged me off against my will. I've been married once, I've ruled this country for over five years; don't you think I'm old and grown up enough to make my own decisions?"
"Daughters never grow up. They remain little girls with pigtails and skinned knees forever," Ceridwen remembered him saying.
Loghain looked stricken.
"I... I'm sorry, Anora."
The queen was on a roll, though.
"Don't apologize to me, apologize to her! Just look, she's already bruising. Just be glad she didn't blast you down the corridor."
Ceridwen hadn't moved from the spot and watched the heated exchange between father and daughter in amazement. Did they always go head to head like this?
Probably.
Anora irritably opened a door to a small sitting-room.
"In here," she growled, sounding remarkably like her father.
Loghain's face was an impassive mask when he chose a spot near the window and leant against the wall. Ceridwen awkwardly stood in the middle of the room until the Queen waved her into a chair.
"I told you I had news for you, so I might just as well tell you now. Since you," she glanced at Loghain, "lost your position as the Teyrn of Gwaren and I can't just give it back to you, we seem to have a vacancy."
Ceridwen stared at her quizzically. Where was she going with this?
"I have decided, and my future husband agreed, that it would be best if you," she looked at Ceridwen, "became the next Teyrna."
"What? Your Majesty, I know nothing about running a town, and I'm certainly not a noble!"
Loghain chuckled in amusement.
"Those were almost my exact words, when Maric dropped this on me thirty years ago."
Anora shot a wry smile at him and turned back to Ceridwen.
"I'm sure my father will gladly assist you wherever you need. I will make the announcement tomorrow and I'm leaving the details to you," she said regally, every inch the Queen. Then she sighed.
"You should probably go and see your healer. And get some rest, you still look a little pale," she said with a smile, then turned to Loghain once more, "Father," she said curtly and quit the room.
Loghain moved over to where Ceridwen still sat, armour clinking lightly as he went.
"I'm sorry," he said, crouching down next to her, touching her neck with a bare hand.
"Stop apologizing, what's done is done," Ceridwen threw his own words back at him.
"But I can make amends, I hope?"
Ceridwen grinned at him lopsidedly.
"Yes, you can accompany me to Wynne, so she can't chew me out in private. And you get to explain to her how I managed to get my neck bruised."
He winced.
"I've had enough poisonous glares from her to last me a lifetime," he said wryly, "but if this is the way to earn your forgiveness, I shall brave the terrifying creature at your side."
Looking at him askance, Ceridwen asked, "You're joking, right?"
"Only half."
"Don't worry, I'll protect you," she laughed, taking his hand and patting it.
Loghain grabbed her and drew her to her feet with him.
"Come to think of it, why didn't you, as my daughter put it, blast me down the corridor?"
"I don't know," Ceridwen answered sheepishly, "Probably because I felt a little guilty. I know that you love her very much, and I can understand your anger at me. If you had squeezed any harder, I would have set you aflame, though."
"I will keep that in mind. What you did to me at the Landsmeet was painful enough. I had never seen a mage using a sword before; you were quite a nasty surprise."
Ceridwen shrugged.
"I've gotten requests to teach other mages at the Circle, but Greagoir almost had kittens at the idea. Just imagine: a bunch of mages in heavy plate, armed with swords ... they'd wipe the floor with the Templars. Their mana-draining abilities would be all but useless. Should we recruit any mages though, I'm definitely going to teach them, if they want to learn. Have we procrastinated enough yet? Let's go and see Wynne."
DA:O
They found her in the gardens, sitting on a bench soaking in the sun. She was one of the last people Loghain wanted to see right now, but he did feel guilty. He very likely wouldn't have before last night, but after seeing Ceridwen so open and vulnerable ... and he had never lain a hand in anger on a lover before.
The mage opened her eyes and her gimlet stare immediately found the bruises on the other mage's neck.
"What did you do now?"
"That is my fault, madam," Loghain said with forced politeness. "I lost my temper."
He wanted nothing more than to wring the old crone's neck, but she was Ceridwen's friend and mentor. Her constant moralizing just grated on him; she had a knack for making him feel even worse than he already did.
"And she let you live?"
"Apparently," he bit out. He glanced at the woman beside him, who just looked on with a slight smile on her face and said nothing to defend him. Vicious little thing.
"You really didn't think, did you?," she asked Ceridwen, waving her hand and muttering a few words that caused the bruises to disappear; including the love-bite he'd given her last night, and he was a little sad to see it go. Ah well, perhaps she'd let him give her a new one.
"Wynne, please. He apologized and I have forgiven him. It's all right."
The old mage sighed and shook her head.
"Well it isn't really my business, isn't it? But you can't fault me for worrying about you."
Meddling old bat. But no, not even he could fault her for worrying about a close friend.
"Thank you," Ceridwen said, turning to leave.
Loghain gave the old woman a terse nod, which she returned, and followed his lover (the word tasted strange in his thoughts, but she was, wasn't she) out of the gardens.