Loghain's Death: 9:46 Dragon.

It had been coming. All of them, Gareth included, sensed it before it was obvious. He had begun growing weaker, memory lost at regular intervals, and sometimes…sometimes the darkspawn would run straight towards him and then ignore him the rest. It wasn't until three months before his walk through the gates leading to the Deep Roads where he began to hear it. The sweet Calling.

Loghain barely slept as it was. Now he didn't sleep at all. If he shut his eyes, he saw flashes of his family dying. Of Rowan becoming a Broodmother. Of Gareth being slaughtered with a dying scream. Of Anora being assassinated by poison. Of Maric being betrayed by the bard Katriel. Of his mother being assaulted and killed by the Orlesian bastard who turned into a smirking Ogre. It was too much. It was simply too much.

Rowan was his rock in every step of the way. She knew that he would go first, that his time to go would arrive quickly. Too quickly for her tastes but she refused to cry. She refused to break down and weep as anyone else in her position would. Each nightmare he struggled with, she was there, saying nothing. She would hold him close and tenderly stroke his hair. Eventually he would realized who was holding him and meet her gaze. They said nothing, knowing words were useless at this point. So they cherished what little time they had left in each other's arms, both unrelenting in their passion. If young Gareth complained, they didn't notice.

Their son was a strong lad. He too knew what was coming. Both his parents had sat him down at the age of ten and one to explain their shortened lifespans. They held back nothing, telling him that his father would more than likely not live to see his twentieth birthday. Gareth cried that day, sobbing at the bitter reality that neither of his parents would live to see their potential grandchildren. To see him become the man they and others had taught him to be. A harsh lesson for a young lad but there were no secrets amongst the Mac Tirs if it could be helped. Not about this at any rate. He hadn't cried since. He vowed to stay strong for his mother and father, to never let them see the pain of losing both his mum and pa.


Rowan, Gareth, Fergus, Anora, Elle, and Alistair accompanied the taciturn Teyrn of Highever to Orzammar where they were all greeted as distinguished guests of King Bhelen. Prince Bryce and Princess Leliana were back in Denerim, running the palace under the advisory of Teagan and Erys while their parents were gone. Bhelen held many feasts in Loghain's honor as well as a Proving. To everyone's shock, except for perhaps Anora, Rowan, and Gareth, Loghain signed up to be one of the contenders in his own Proving. Needless to say he won though it took a great toll on his weakening body.


It was later that night when they were all in their own rooms when Rowan and Loghain discussed final rites. "I want to go with you." She spoke, meeting his gaze evenly. He let out a weary sigh and squeezed her hand. "If only you could, love, but you have a son to think about as well as the Teyrnir. You still have years left before its your turn." He replied. Her eyes glistened with tears. She whispered, "You'll be going in there alone. I know in my heart that you speak the truth…but yet it protests at sending you into the Deep Roads on your own." He didn't laugh. It was a fate no Warden wished for, even as reluctant as they were. Still it was a duty they could not evade. "Better that I go alone now and not have to worry about turning into a darkspawn and harming those I love." Loghain sighed, his attention half focused on the taunting song in his head. She nodded reluctantly, knowing that he was right. Soon it would be her turn. No doubt Alistair and Elle, perhaps even Erys, would join her.

"Loghain Mac Tir, I will always love you no matter what the Maker sends my way." How fitting those would be her last private words to him. A smirk crossed his face as he cupped her face in his hands. Just before he took her into his arms, he murmured, "Rowan Mac Tir, I will always love you no matter what the damned Maker sends my way."


"Father-" Anora broke off, crying. Loghain kissed the top of her head before gazing sternly at his solemn son. "You take good care of your mother and sister, lad, you hear? Don't make me come from the Fade to kick you back into shape." Gareth couldn't help but snort at his father's never-ending penchant for words. He sobered very quickly and gave him a nod. "Good luck, Pa." Gareth Mac Tir heard himself say, immediately regretting his last few words. The old man heh'ed before exchanging quick words with the others. Alistair simply wished Loghain the best of luck whereas Elle actually loosened up enough to squeeze his hands in final farewell. Fergus, with one arm wrapped around Anora, made his final farewells with him. Finally, Loghain turned to face his wife.

She was beautiful, he thought. A sight that would stick with him for the remainder of his life. Rowan did not shed a tear. Her head was raised high and she gave him a fierce look that sent heat straight to his loins. What he wouldn't do to have just a few more moments with her. A growl slipped through his lips as he moved to crush her against him, capturing her lips with a heated kiss. They remained intertwined for several seconds before breaking apart, giving each other a final smile. "Take as many of the bastards down you can." Rowan murmured. He stroked the side of her face and nodded before turning for the gate. He met the guard's gaze and said gravely, "I'm ready. Open the doors." The group of guards quickly moved to their positions and pulled the mighty doors opened. Loghain began making his way through the entrance, never looking back. Rowan's eyes never left his back even as the doors closed with a final clang.