Borrowed Time, Ch 26 – Eulogy
AN: Rated M for sexual references. I included something from the game that sealed the deal as far as my Loghain fangirlness went.
Riordan was in the courtyard when Shiva and her companions returned. He took Shiva's hand to welcome her back and asked if she and Loghain would join him in a meeting within once they had settled. The man was all business.
Businessman was going to wait until Shiva drew a bath, she needed to thaw before she'd be ready for the next step. Leliana walked in, unannounced when she decided it was time to mend things between them. The Orlesian hoped their relationship would never end, but couldn't dismiss the nagging in the back of her mind.
She was addicted to the adventure, just as she had been in Orlais and there was a new thrill each time her love took a step. Even their nights, which she knew was the highlight for Shiva, were times she would miss.
Leliana squatted by the bath were Shiva reclined. The pirate turned her head, but didn't look at her. Her arms were resting across the back of the washtub, leaving her body exposed. She watched as the water licked at Shiva's breasts, tracing her collarbone with a finger and laying her chin on her shoulder. She could see Shiva's expression – she hadn't seen her so sad since the days after Alistair left. It had been months already. Leliana sat on her heels to strip so she could join her.
When Shiva made it to the Commander's quarters, Loghain and Riordan were already talking. Their conversation was clipped and unfriendly, so understandably both were relieved when Shiva entered so they could defer to her instead of each other.
"I understand you have not rested as much as you need so I will keep this short," Riordan stated. "I received a report from the Blackstone Irregulars, the have been keeping an eye out for darkspawn and they informed me that the horde is marching for Redcliff. We need to leave soon."
Loghain frowned. "This is the time to call upon the armies, I assume?"
"Already taken care of," Riordan nodded. "I sent the messengers two days ago. The darkspawn will beat us there, but the army at Redcliff may be able to hold on long enough to live to see reinforcements."
"That's optimistic," Shiva grumbled.
"Take what time you need. We must head for Redcliff soon. No later than the week's end."
"Very well," Shiva sighed. She shook her head. They fell to the whole damn horde just eleven months ago. How much had it grown since? Did the few of them stand a chance?
Loghain was having difficulty sleeping. The bloody nightmares were keeping him from much needed rest. He had gotten up to pace in the kitchens, looking for something but he knew not what. Perhaps whatever luck he found the night of his Joining, when he rose from sweat drenched sheets and found Shiva in the kitchens to talk him down. The kitchens tonight were cold and empty except for himself. No comfort from his commander.
He shouldn't need comfort from anyone. He was a grown man, damn it, an old man. He could live without those breathtaking blue eyes watching him, those softly curved lips speaking honesty and jests to him. Yes, he was just fine without her.
But was he? Life between Ostagar and the Landsmeet had been hellish. So much that in a night of weakness he sought comfort in the arms of a woman he should have never touched. She had expected more, too, though it was clear he was only in need of her companionship that night. Just one night without the burden of Cailan's death, Anora's grief, the Banns' accusations.
But with Cauthrien, why in Andraste's ass had he done that? With her? He woke the next dawn with more anxiety than release, sick from drink from the night before as she still slept in his bed. Right where he should never have let her be. He got minimal pleasure from bedding her, something gnawing at the back of his mind as well as a million other reasons kept him from enjoying himself. But her affection for him grew, the one he ignored for so long thinking, hoping it would fade once she opened her eyes and saw him for the cantankerous, haggard old man that he was.
Shiva didn't see it either. She saw a brother in arms, a soldier – one with more experience and wisdom than she ever expected to have. He was fine with that, though he would prefer if she switched her idea of him with Cauthrien.
No, that didn't make sense! She was still too young, it was still inappropriate. He shouldn't think of bedding another woman since Celia's death. He had produced an heir, and he couldn't ask for a better child than Anora. He wasn't meant to have more adventures between the sheets than that. That's just not the sort of thing his life allowed. His body begged to differ. Another downside of the Joining. He was grateful for the heavy armor he wore, his appreciation of the way Shiva bent over without caring who was behind her, moved her hips with each step, and stretched her back in the evenings around the fire was well hidden.
Loghain gave up. He recovered from the nightmare, cursing himself for thinking of Shiva's body to do so, and was ready to return to his room to do something about his current state. He was far from tired, but perhaps tending to his arousal would be enough to relax him.
When he turned, he ran into a knee high, solid mass. He glared downwards, past his erection to see a black muzzle, parted to release a long, lolling tongue.
"What are you doing up at this hour, hm?" Loghain sat on a nearby stool, holding his hand out to the Mabari. The hound licked his hand, making the general smile. He thought with bitter pride that this was the one member of camp he truly got along with.
Shiva rose from sleep, a large furry warmth near the foot of the bed was noticeably absent. It was early, she knew – just past dawn, she guessed from the miniscule amount of light streaming through the window. She walked out of her chambers, through the corridors until she heard a deep, rumbling voice – from the kitchens?
She stood at the threshold. Loghain was feeding Loki bits of ham, earning excited huffing and drool on his shoes.
"I had a mabari once. Adalla – that was her name. We found her in the wood shed one night. She was still a pup then, we never figured out where she came from. My mother called her a gift from the Maker. And she was… She really was." He was smiling in a way he didn't let himself, or maybe didn't get the opportunity to, around people.
"She was beautiful," he continued. "She had a lovely chestnut brown coat, and the most intelligent, understanding eyes. You would have liked her. We grew up together. She never left my side, not once. Ten years we had her, before she was taken away." All contentment he had when he remembered his pet drained into dejection.
"This was when Orlais still ruled and it was an Orlesian lordling who took her. He wanted to mix the blood of our noble Mabari with their frail, wasp waisted game hounds, which were bred for looks, not intelligence. I tried to keep her, but there was little I could do to stop the Orlesian… I wasn't even a man then. You can imagine what it was like for her, being torn away from the boy – the family she was bonded to. It was six months before we saw her again. The Orlesian returned her – and when I say 'returned,' I mean 'pushed her out of his wagon.' She was skin and bone, and still carried the scars from where their pronged collars bit into her neck. She never quite recovered. She passed away after a week. It was as though she held on long enough to come home to us. I held her head in my lap, and I believe she died happy." He ended his eulogy with a heavy sigh.
Shiva didn't move from where she stood, but her eyes were large and tears welled up. She couldn't believe she was so moved. Loki noticed her, reflecting her sympathy with a sad, long whine.
"None of that from you, dog. Finish your snack," Loghain gently ordered.
"Am I allowed?" Loghain turned to Shiva with surprise, even more so when he saw she had tears in her eyes and an unhappy pout. She leaned against the doorframe, scratching at the wooden beam with her nail.
He half chuckled, half grunted at her reaction. "You're serious, aren't you?" She stepped forward to kneel next to her dog, who was for once taking his time eating. Her head was level with Loghain's knee and he was uncomfortable with her proximity in that position.
"I don't know what I'd do about that. Pets are my weakness. That and family, likely because they are synonymous." He had to agree as he watched her pet the hound.
"Better be damned grateful Maric and I drove those bastards out. Such cruelty is their nature," he muttered contemptuously.
She rose quickly, outstretched arms wrapped around him in a hug before he could object. "I am grateful. Thank you for kicking their asses, Loghain." His jaw dropped. Without thinking, he placed a hand on her back as a semi-returned hug. When he caught himself, he snapped his mouth shut and backed away a fraction. She took the hint and released him, leaned against the table beside him with her arms crossed, watching the dog as Loghain watched her.
He thought ironically that the dog may have been pleased by their contact. He had confided his interest in the woman to the dog. But mabari were trustworthy – his secret was safe.
He still couldn't believe she hugged him. Maker, help him – he could feel her as if she was still pressed against his body. He shook his head. "You must be delirious. Were you awakened with nightmares last night as well, or is there another reason for your mood?" Come to think of it, he probably didn't want to know.
"Just not looking forward to Redcliff, I guess. I fully expected to die at Ostagar. Maybe that luck was a one time thing, or my death was postponed until the day I have something to lose."
"Don't say that." It was something that made his heart sink, but that wasn't what he would tell her. "You are the commander, or at least the closest to one we have. Riordan can go back to Orlais for all we care. We follow you, and if everyone sees that you're disheartened, morale will plummet – and if I've learned anything as a general, it's that morale is a powerful tool. It can work for or against you. We have the skill to make it through, but if you convince yourself you don't have the stomach for it, we're all doomed." He raised a brow when she saw her purse her lips to fight a smile.
"With these speeches and a dash of 'Maker this, Maker that,' some chantry robes might suit you." She giggled at his scowl before growing serious. "I hear you, and you're right. Again." He hummed as if he was agreeing with the obvious. A comfortable silence lasted several minutes before Shiva drew a deep breath and shifted. "We head for Redcliff tomorrow. Everyone is in dire need of rest, and I'm going back to bed." He didn't notice her hand was on his arm until he felt it slide away.
Loki was torn between following his mistress and staying put. Truth be told, Loghain felt the same. He stood from the stool he had been sitting on for hours, his legs wobbly from disuse and the uncomfortable pressure that was at the back of his leg, and he walked as briskly as the discomfort allowed. He caught up to Shiva when she was at her chamber door and he was standing near his, hand on the wall and suddenly very awkward. Shiva heard his steps, had turned and was giving him a worried look. "Are you alright?"
"Oh Maker, my foot's asleep," he muttered. He limped into his chambers and slammed the door so he could lean against it until the discomfort tingling up his leg passed. Thank Andraste it caught his attention. He heard the sound of a door shut in the hall, refusing to believe that he had actually followed her to – no, he couldn't think about it.
He was such a fool.