Loghain briefly considered going back to the Warden compound and trying to sleep at least until dawn, but he knew it was a pointless exercise. He'd never needed much sleep anyway, so there was no point in struggling himself into unconsciousness just to be awakened by nightmares.
It was hard to say whether those dreams would be of darkspawn or of broken hearts, but neither was something he wanted to experience.
He went instead to the lakeshore, hoping the brisk, damp air might clear his head. It was painful, this, but he had to be the one willing to be strong. He remembered that night so long ago, when he sent Rowan to Maric, knowing that she would never be his again. Though there have been many of those in power who've lead secret lives apart from the face they showed the world he knew he would never have been able to keep up such a farce. His own daughter's marriage, at least the first one, had been much like that...Cailan was always carrying on with other women. But Loghain knew that neither he nor Rowan would be able to keep what they felt for each other separate from what they felt for Maric, so the only thing to do was to let them go, if more for Maric's sake than their own. Though Loghain was never one for thinking with his heart, he was easily hurt. He knew it was a balancing act they could only fail.
So he let her go. He let them all go eventually because that was how the world worked. Nothing was permanent, no matter how one railed against it. Wasn't it better to not deny the inevitable? Wasn't it better to walk away before it got any worse?
Sweet Andraste, he hoped he was right.
As dawn finally lit the sky, he returned to the compound and threw himself back into training. By the end of the day, those poor sodding noble bastards were drenched in sweat and hardly fit to be alive. They'd be cursing his name for a year, after what he put them through. Any still able to walk in the morning were going to get the same treatment all over again tomorrow.
The other Wardens, as always, gave Loghain a wide berth. He had no interest in commiserating with them, though he knew they were talking. He'd made no secret of his time with Adrian and he was sure the gossiping fishwives were happy now with something to talk about to distract them for all their other, darker concerns.
Loghain walked through nearly a week like that, sleepwalking through his life such as it was and ignoring the hollow ache in his chest. He focused on fighting the song of the Calling in his head, but that focus only served to make things worse. It was Adrian who'd given him the comfort and the strength that had been holding it back. He wanted to ferret out what was going on before he admitted it to anyone, but he knew he'd have to give in to it, sooner or later. He no longer wondered if he was an idiot; he knew he was. But that didn't change the fact that he'd done the right thing by letting Adrian go. He was sure she didn't agree, but much better for her to hate him than pine for him when they were inevitably separated. They had both agreed they did not want complications. He'd foolishly gone and gotten attached - it was his duty to make it right again.
That didn't make him feel any better.
He'd utterly convinced himself that he'd made both the right and wrong decision when Warden Constable Bernard called for him.
"Warden Loghain," the useless waste of skin greeted him, lounging in his chair like an over fed cat. "We have received an answer from Weisshaupt for your little Mage."
Loghain clenched his teeth together but did not reply.
"I am sure you are not surprised that the First Warden has no interest in antagonizing the Chantry or the rogue Templars and has denied the First Enchanter's request for Grey Warden aid." He said her title with equal amounts disdain and sarcasm.
"I am not surprised," Loghain replied coldly. "Though your perverse pleasure in denying her seems inappropriate."
The man smiled at him with too many teeth. "I don't care about her. I am glad to deny you, Monsieur, anything that might please you in any way. And we all know how her joy would please you from the screaming from your apartments." Bernard's distaste was evident as leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. "My father was a Chevalier, you see. He was sent to Ferelden when I was just a pup and he was slaughtered at the Battle of River Dane." He laid his hands on the desktop, palms down. "So you see, Warden Loghain, it is you I enjoy displeasing, not your little slut of a mage."
Loghain felt a vein pulse in his temple, anger surging. He leaned forward menacingly and to the void with the chain of command. He slammed his hands on the desk. "I only regret I couldn't kill your father before he left his dried spunk on your mother's leg. Or perhaps we'd all be better off if he'd fucked her in the ass, though if he had I suppose you'd still be here, little shit that you are."
Bernard leapt to his feet. "If I...you...get out." He stammered in his frustration.
Instead of walking out, Loghain folded his arms across his chest. Bernard was short, though broad enough through the chest to legitimately be called a Grey Warden , yet Loghain easily towered down at him.
They stared at each other for a few increasingly tense moments before Bernard folded and sat down. He waved his hand at Loghain.
"Fine, I don't care. Scowl and threaten all you like. It doesn't change anything," Bernard said, leaning back in his chair but with far less ease than before.
He might be able to cow Bernard, but he was right. Loghain's anger wouldn't change anything. He had no allies here, not yet, though that was something he knew now that needed to change. As much as it irked him, it was time to call on his reputation for both heroics and treachery because men flocked to both. This worm didn't deserve his power and Loghain felt no desire to all it to continue. But it couldn't change today. Today, Bernard's word and the messenger's word were the law. The Wardens wouldn't help the mages.
Accepting temporary defeat, Loghain retreated. He knew the value of a calculated falling back. It would be Bernard who regretted this battle in time.
For now, all he could do was tell Adrian the news and offer her his promise that he would see things change. He wasn't going to give up on the Wardens or on her, no matter what he thought in the throws of his own earlier selfishness. Perhaps he couldn't get the Wardens to fight alongside the mages, but he could prevent then from fighting against them. There were darker things at work. If he could find out the heart of those, the Wardens would be too distracted, at least, to offer resistance.
Loghain drew a line. He intended to defend it.
He left the compound with a mission, determined to make things right one way or the other. If Bernard only knew what his cajoling had done, he'd probably take it back but Loghain watched his own reaction to that pig's words and knew the truth. He wouldn't fight against Adrian or the mages. How could he have imagined he could, after all that had happened?
He would change the Grey Wardens if he had to. It would be easier than changing his own mind; a lifetime of stubborn, bull-headed, mabari like behavior stretched out behind him drove that point home.
His steps were long and confident for the first time since he left Adrian. He expected her wrath and knew he deserved it, it was something he was willing to face especially now that he'd stopped being a sniveling coward. He knew the truth of the matter. He was the man who'd ruled Ferelden in all but name for decades and groomed his daughter to rule after him. He was Loghain Mac Tir, the former Teyrn of Gwaren, the Hero of River Dane and the companion of the brave and beautiful hero of Ferelden. How could he have let himself be turned away from what he wanted, yet again, by insecurity and weakness?
Not this time.
He saw her on the approach to the tower, her bright hair a tiny ginger colored blot against the grey stones. She was motionless and he almost imagined her standing there, arms crossed over her chest ready and willing to give with a fiery dressing down that he most certainly had earned. He had plans in his mind to stop her anger. Plans that included needing her help, and the deviousness of her mind to help him turn the bulk of the Wardens to their cause. Not just her cause, their cause.
There was nothing that aroused Loghain more than knowing where he stood; knowing what was the side of righteousness and which was that of callowness. He had fought many battles in his life, some more valiantly than others. But, when he'd truly deigned to take the battle to the field, eventually he always succeeded. Even where he failed against Kya, he'd won the war, kept his daughter on her throne and ended the Blight by her side.
Loghain was exhilarated and could not wait to see Adrian standing there, proud and haughty and ready for a battle of their own.
But Adrian wasn't standing, she was sitting with her head hanging low and her elbows on her knees, hands held prone out before her. When he got close enough, he realized her hands were covered in blood.
