"Is it because we're bad people?" Kya blurted out as Loghain opened the door. He stared at her, dubious and frowning.
"What?" Loghain asked. Then he sighed and opened the door completely, letting her in. Kya could feel his questioning eyes on her back as she padded past him. She heard the soft click of the door behind her.
She turned to look at him and realized this was a very bad idea. All of it was, in fact. They'd returned from the tower to find that Leliana and Zevran had managed to break into the little inn once they realized the innkeep wasn't returning. Fled north to avoid the darkspawn, they assumed. Oghren was disappointed that Felsi was gone as well, but he consoled himself with the barrels of ale that had been left behind. They made themselves at home.
That wasn't a great idea.
The inn was small, only a few rooms. They'd all doubled up, but saved a private room for Kya and another for Loghain. Kya's for privacy or mourning, she assumed. And Loghain's? So no one was tempted to kill him; that from Zevran's lips. But it was the first time, in a very long time, that Kya had been left alone. And she did not like it, one bit.
She should have welcomed it, but she grew up in a place where they slept twenty to a room. Then a year between camp and battle, and a new warm presence in her bedroll that was now coldly absent.
Kya was lonely. But she could have gone into the bar, to drink with Oghren or argue with Wynne. She could have even slipped into Zevran's bed; he certainly wouldn't have turned her away. She could have let Leliana comb her hair, as she seemed so fond of doing. She could have found Morrigan, and learned more from Flemeth grimoire. But instead she found herself barefoot and dressed in some white nightgown she'd found in a chest, looking for all the world like an innocent child, in Loghain's room. He was staring at her like she had gone mad.
This was a terrible idea.
But at the moment, Kya didn't care. She let out a sigh, and sank down on to the rug in front of the tiny fireplace. She tucked her knees under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs.
"I just wonder sometimes," she continued. "If when terrible things happen, if maybe we don't deserve them."
Loghain snorted. "Like some punishment from the Maker, I suppose?" he said. He sounded decidedly annoyed. "I think you spend too much time with the Orlesian bard."
"She's rather hard to avoid," Kya sighed. "And I think she might have a point."
She looked up at Loghain through her eyelashes. He was leaning against the wall next to the fireplace with his ankles crossed and his arms folded over his chest. His dark hair was damp and hanging loose around his stern face.
"So," he said. "What is it that you've done that you think merits punishment?"
"Do you want a list?" Kya sighed. "That could take a while."
Loghain gave a short bitter laugh. "Perhaps just the highlights then."
"I betrayed my best friend and it led to his death," she started. "And I did it, I think, because I was angry that he had learned blood magic and hadn't taught me." She took a breath. "I helped put a fratricide on the throne of Orzammar, but not before giving a tool to a madwoman that would allow her to steal souls to make golems. Just because golems would make fighting the horde that much easier," she continued.
"Rather sensible, actually . . . ," Loghain began.
Kya cut him off, "I helped a band of cursed werewolves slaughter a clan of Dalish elves. And yes, they will be welcome in the fight, but I think I did it mostly because the elves were rude." She made a bitter little sound.
"And?" he prodded.
"Well," she replied, frowning. "I . . . deflowered . . . a Templar, or at least an ex-Templar."
Loghain grunted. "That's hardly a crime."
Kya looked at her hands. "I'm also rather much a bitch," she said quietly.
"That also," he said. "Is hardly criminal." He crouched down beside her. She heard the joints in his knees crack. It was an oddly comforting, and yet disconcerting sound. It made Loghain seem a bit more real than she was sure she wanted him to be.
"I imagine that if we are to compare crimes, yours pale in comparison," he said, leaning back on his hand to sit down next to her. "And yet I am still alive."
Kya looked up at him. "Isn't that a bit of a punishment in and of itself?"
"Perhaps," he said. "Or perhaps not. I haven't decided yet."
Kya didn't reply. She realized she been hoping for condemnation, or at least agreement, and she wasn't going to find it here. Loghain was quietly staring at her.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "Why am I fighting the Blight?"
Loghain looked amused. "No, that bit I understand; The Taint, Grey Warden, save the world, and so forth," he said. "Why are you here? With me, when your friends are all waiting to console you?"
"Because they are all dying to console me," she groaned "And even after all of it, even after . . . well, they look at me like I'm some kind of sodding hero." She sighed again. "I have no idea how you could stand it."
Loghain made a non-committal noise, but his message was clear enough. He couldn't stand it. Never had.
"And you don't," she said.
Loghain seemed to be considering. "Would you prefer that I did?" he asked.
"Maker's breath, no!" Kya said. She gave a slight, wry laugh. "I can just see it, you'll call me my lady and bow. It is kind of a funny picture, actually."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said. "In case I ever feel the need to harass you." He shook his head and rubbed his temples.
Kya frowned. "Am I giving you another headache?" she asked.
"Hm? Oh, not at all," he said, looking up at her warily. "Habit I suppose, after having a dull headache for the last five years." He looked uncomfortable for a split second, but he seemed to swallow it. "Actually, it appears you were right, at least in part."
"Oh?" she asked, looking at him closely. "Oh." It occurred to her that he hadn't braided his hair again. She wondered how she hadn't noticed until now. "At least I'm not completely useless."
"Don't," Loghain said sharply.
"Don't what?"
"Muddle into more self-recrimination," he said. "That is what is useless. Trust me, I've tried it and it doesn't help anything."
"I'm sorry," she sighed, looking back at her hands. "I just . . . I don't know. I'm exhausted, but the thought of sleep makes me ill." She glanced back at him. There were dark smudges of violet under his eyes. He looked utterly exhausted, and Kya expected she did as well. "I sorry, I should go, I'm sure you need to sleep."
Loghain shook his head. "I suppose, but I have no burning desire to enter the Fade," he said. His voice was strained. "You were right about that as well."
"Nightmares," Kya said.
"Yes," he admitted. "It's worse than I expected."
"I'm sorry about that too," she said. "Since I forced that on you."
"Would you rather I was dead?" he asked perfunctorily.
Kya's head snapped up. "I . . . ," she said. The room felt suddenly very warm. "Of course not."
"Then don't apologize, since death was the only other option," he said. He stretched out his legs and leaned back on his palms casually. "Although I haven't yet decided if it was a good idea or not."
They were quiet for a while then. Kya was surprised at how not uncomfortable the silence was. She'd never managed to just sit with someone without one of them having to fill up the quiet with platitudes. Not even with Alistair.
The thought of him gave her a strange hollow feeling in her chest, like a drop of water falling in a cold, empty cave. It had only been a few days, after all. Yet, there was a part of her that had known all along that it was always going to be temporary. He was Ferelden's king, by blood. And Kya knew exactly how powerful blood was.
"Do you think Alistair will make a good king?" she asked quickly.
Loghain gave her a cold look. "Perhaps," he said. "If he isn't too foolish to take council from Anora." He gritted his teeth. "Because on his own, he is weak. All the Banns know it. It won't be long before they are clamoring for concessions. If he isn't careful, the throne will become no more important than a farmhold."
"Hm," she said. "You are probably right at that. He is easily influenced."
"I expected as much," Loghain said. "I didn't fight against his claim because of some twisted desire for my own power. I fought him because Ferelden doesn't need another King as foolish as Cailan."
"He isn't like Cailan," she said. "You know, he actually agreed with you about the battle plans for Ostagar, well, before you . . . changed your mind, anyway."
"Did he?" Loghain looked surprised. "Perhaps there is hope for him after all. I do pray that there is, although I expect nothing."
"Did you . . . ," Kya began. "Ah, never mind."
"No. I thought we were past this," Loghain prodded. "Ask your question."
"Did you plan all along to leave Cailan and the Grey Wardens on the field? Was that always what you intended to do?" she asked and wondered if she sounded as shocked by her impertinence as she felt.
"I planned for the worst," he said simply. "But I hoped for the best, right up until the end."
"That's oddly comforting," she said. They were quiet again for a moment. Loghain seemed to be pondering something painful. A muscle twitched in his jaw.
"I suppose you think I'm some sort of monster," he said.
Kya furrowed her brow. "I don't think you're a monster," she said. "I think the same thing that I did the first time we spoke about this. I think that you were the Hero of River Dane, and my hero, for a very long time. I think the worst thing you did was the one thing you couldn't help."
"And what is that?" he asked.
"Being only human, only a man, after all," she said. "All of Ferelden had you on a pedestal. It was a long way down to the ground with the rest of us mere mortals."
"If you do this thing, defeat the Blight," he said. "Be careful that they don't do the same to you." His voice was bitter and cold. "It is a long way down."
"Does it hurt?" she asked. "Falling from grace?"
Loghain just looked at her. Kya watched him carefully as his face flickered through a myriad of subtle emotion. That wall he had, the one behind his eyes that made them look so much like shards of ice, it wavered. She expected him to frown, scowl or take on another familiar expression. But instead, the lines on his face relaxed, and the corner of his mouth quirked up, just a bit. He suddenly looked like a young man; not the Hero of River Dane or the Teryn of Gwaren, or even a bitter and resigned Grey Warden. He looked like man with thick dark hair veiling a long chiseled face and intense blue eyes the color of a clear winter sky.
He looked rather handsome, in fact.
"Not at all," he said finally. "It's a relief, actually. So instead of you apologizing, I should thank you."
"For what?" she asked.
"For giving me a chance to have a life of my own, albeit a short one, considering the taint," he said. "Since the day Maric stumbled into me in the forest, haggard and blood soaked and terrified, my life has belonged to someone else. And although the chance is slight indeed, if I survive Archdemon and the hoard, I will have a life that is my own."
"You will still be a Grey Warden," Kya said softly. "There is duty there as well."
"Just so," he said. "But it is a duty that is black and white. There is a clear line that I can defend. That is what I want. There are no questions there."
"By any means necessary," Kya said, "Is not as cut and dry as you might think."
"No, it never is," Loghain replied. "But the ending is clear. And with the darkspawn, the ends will always justify the means. Guilt can be damned, if the other choice is watching Ferelden be swallowed up by the taint."
"Well," she sighed. "You're welcome, then."
The corner of Loghain's mouth finally curled up. It was more a smirk, than a smile, but it looked far more sincere than any other expression she'd seen from him thus far. More than that, Kya was surprised at just how good that smile made her feel. It didn't take a genius to know that Loghain was not a man for whom smiling came easy.
Kya once thought that Alistair's smile was as bright as the sun. She supposed it was; bright and golden and good. Loghain's smile was more like the moon appearing from behind a cloud. It occurred to her that as lovely and warm as the sun was, you couldn't stare at it long or it would blind and burn you.
But you could spend an entire night gazing up at the moon.
