Interlude I: The Night Before the Final Battle

He caught her arm as she turned to leave, amazed once more that she was real; that this woman, barely out of childhood was destined to save Ferelden. She lifted her gaze from the floor to stare at him questioningly, eyes flitting between the hand on her arm and at his face. Her own face was solemn, and he could see the darkness of resolve and regret in her already darkened eyes.

Her question was only natural. "Something more you wish to add to the plan tomorrow?"

Loghain shook his head. "No, I want you to reconsider the plan entirely."

A fair eyebrow arched up into her hairline. She was regarding him with some mild amusement. "Oh? What would you suggest?"

The hand at her arm pulled away and he turned from her towards the map of his beloved Ferelden that hung on the wall. His eyes wandered over Gwaren, over Denerim,, even over her own lands of Highever far to the north that were so far removed from the hills and rivers of his home. "If anyone should take the final blow tomorrow, it should be me. I have much to atone for."

"No, I can't allow you to do that."

Loghain imagined the resolve in her eyes now spreading across her face, and could see her in his mind's eye crossing her arms over her chest in disapproval and stubborn resistance of the idea. Still, as his eyes traveled over to the border with Orlais, he felt the need to press on and change her mind. "Don't play games with me, young lady. This is why you recruited me into the Grey Wardens, isn't it?"

The scratching of stone floors by heavy boots reached his ears. She was walking towards him. "No, I recruited you into the Grey Wardens because your life is better spent recruiting men and leading armies than staining the floor of the palace with your blood, pride and honor."

Down now they traveled to the Frostbacks, where Orzammar and the Deep Roads were hidden. "And what good is it for me to recruit and lead when you think me a xenophobic man capable of all manners of depravity?"

"When all this is over, it won't matter who you were." She had come to stand beside him, looking at the map before looking to him. Her hand, warm and free of her heavy gauntlets, came up to catch his shoulder and his attention. Reluctantly, Loghain turned to look at her and she continued on having captured his eyes, "Ferelden needs heroes, Loghain. It doesn't need young upstarts. You are the Hero of the River Dane. Everyone will remember that come the dawn of the battle's end."

"Heh, I am not so certain that will be the case." His eyes flicked back to the tiny, painted castle the represented Denerim.

She squeezed his shoulder, her fingers passing over the rough-spun fabric of his tunic. In the corner his armor lay newly-polished and shining, reflecting the light of the crackling fire in the hearth. Without it Loghain was subject to the distractions and manipulations that simple touch and tone could evoke. The Grey Warden knew this, for she was both woman and warrior, and could use the strength of her muscles and the subtly of her words to make her point understood. "I am. You have to have faith in me." Like the lick of the fire's flames, her fingers bit into him.

"I do have faith in you but," Loghain's sigh came loudly and not without a frustrated grunt, "your death is a waste. You are young; there is much yet that you can do, but you seem eager to march to your death."

"I have never been eager to meet death."

"Is that so?" He looked back at her, recognizing now the features of both Eleanor and Bryce Cousland. Like a map, he read her face. He noticed the landmarks and the telltale signs of her birth: the Teyrna's high cheekbones and pointed jaw, the Teyrn's full lips and stormy eyes, all of which were worn now with finality.

She made a scoffing sound in the back of her throat, denying his accusation. "Some things are just necessary. You know this." She drew her head back, staring at him with eyes half-narrowed. "You're a tactician."

His own eyes narrowed. "And I have made many tactical errors; but I also know them when I see them."

"I am not making a tactical error." This time it was she who turned away from him. She bowed her head as she walked, her hands gesturing down by her sides as she spoke. Her voice came in the quiet, hushed tones that only the surest and most desperate of dreamers can manage. "You are the best rallying point of Ferelden: a commoner come noble, tried and tested in the field of battle, who fell from grace and was redeemed. Everyone will come to you…" She paused, stopping just past his bedpost, laying a hand on it to support herself. Her last words were so quiet that she feared Loghain might miss them. "…for your story is greater than mine."

Then she turned to look at him over her the curve of her shoulder, her eyelashes obscuring most of her gaze, but still Loghain knew it nonetheless. She was not a child in her father's armor playing at grown up games like he kept trying to tell himself, she was a warrior and she had made up her mind. Though the disquiet he felt at the notion of her death was still settled in his gut, he felt something growing in there along side it. Was it envy? Anger? She was his commander, and he was beholden to obey her word, but she was young and foolish and…

She had faced him, curling inward towards her arm and resting her chest against the bedpost, her mouth twisted up into a smile. "You know I named my Mabari for your victory."

And perhaps it was her tone, or the nostalgic switch of topics (for he thought Dane was magnificent and couldn't not be flattered at the sentiment), but Loghain couldn't find himself to disagree with her. All he could do was let his shoulders droop in defeat and exhale the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I made the mistake of underestimating your political ability at the Landsmeet, and you continue to surprise me. I wonder if this is a trend of every Teyrn's daughter?"

"If Anora is any indication, perhaps it is." She chuckled, now resting her cheek against the polished wood. "I know that it will serve her well as Teyrna of Gwaren."

"She'll never survive the change from kingdom to province," Loghain chuckled darkly, "though I suspect she'll expand Gwaren's borders within a few years."

"We daughters are resilient; she'll be fine."

Loghain watched her eyes dart quickly to the map over his shoulder and then back to his face. What would Bryce Cousland have said to this situation? He was a grown man physically capable of overpowering her and forcing her from the battle tomorrow, yet he was cowed by her determination and seemingly unbothered air. The dead Teyrn probably would have laughed in his face and shrugged his shoulders, exclaiming, 'that is just how she is, Loghain. Just like her mother!'

The other Teyrn had seemed able to see his daughter as a grown woman with her own destiny. He, on the other hand, could only see the echoes of Anora in her face… and Anora would always be six years old, with skinned knees and fierce eyes. Still, would he have locked Anora in the highest tower on the highest peak if she was here before him, telling him that tomorrow she would die the death she was meant to?

No. He probably wouldn't have. Still, for the sake of all fathers everywhere, he had to try one last time to reason with the Grey Warden and get her to save her own life. "You shouldn't take the blow tomorrow."

Like a book quickly shut, her openness and jocularity retreated back into that part of her still untouched by the horrors of war and circumstance. She was standing straight and tall like a commander. Her shoulders were stiff and her jaw firm. The Warden was retreating from him, leaving no room for discussion in her wake. "I will see you tomorrow. Try and get some sleep."

He watched her stalk towards the door. "I never sleep before the battle. My mind wanders, and it is impossible to rest." Her hand stilled at the handle as he spoke, and she looked over her shoulder at him with the same expression he had seen earlier. But then she was gone, like the sound of a storm having just passed overhead, she was gone.

I lied about Teagan, but I couldn't get this out of my head. This had to come first, I'm afraid. We'll get to the Landsmeet soon, I promise! And once more, thank you all for the lovely reviews and for sticking with the story and the premise!