A/N: Sorry, a rather actionless but necessary chapter to tie up some loose ends from their Blackmarsh adventures.
Agreements, Arrangements and Arguments
As tired as she was, Leonie was not allowed the privacy of her room upon their return to the Vigil. Everyone had things they needed or wanted from her or wished to say to her. She was being pulled in several directions at once. Her frustration was encouraged by her exhaustion and settled along her skin like an itch.
She spent an hour with Aura, consoling the woman, extracting a promise from the widow to stay with them for the time being. Her heart ached for the pain she knew that Aura must be feeling and Leonie also felt a great deal of pride at how stoically the younger woman was taking the news. But then, Leonie thought with bitter reflection, Aura actually knew how to be the wife of a Grey Warden, as opposed to Nida, who had used it as an excuse to bed another. She pushed the thoughts away and stood up.
"I shall arrange a larger, cheerier room for you Aura and I hope you will agree to stay permanently. You have a home here should you so choose," Leonie said as she gave the other woman a hug.
"I will send a tray up to your room, Aura. Please promise me you will eat something," Leonie instructed in a kind but stern voice. Varel called it her Command and Conquer voice. She had chuckled then, unaware that she had such a voice but enjoying his observation. "And I shall send our healer to visit you. He will be able to offer a sleeping draught, should you so need," Leonie finished in a softer voice.
She tapped on Anders' door and he opened it, freshly scrubbed and in an intricately crafted robe of various shades of green with gold braided trim. "Ah, finally come to your senses, woman?" he asked, leering at her.
"I am afraid that a man who wears a robe more beautiful than my best ballgown is far above me. I could never be sure who people were casting admiring glances at," she responded with a wide smile.
"Hmm, somehow that's not the response I was expecting," Anders said with a slight frown which righted itself immediately. "But it's undoubtedly true!"
She instructed Anders to check in with Aura to make sure she was well. "Have I your agreement that you will offer her aid and nothing more?" she asked seriously.
"You do, Lion. I can be a gentleman when necessary," Anders agreed with irony lacing his words, another smile on his lips. "Mind you, it isn't easy, but I think I can show the proper restraint," he added with good-natured humor and she couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up.
"No, I imagine it is not," she responded and then went next to Ser Tamra's room. Nathaniel answered her knock and she blushed, convinced she must have taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up at Nathaniel's door.
"Am I lost again? I was looking for Ser Tamra's room," Leonie said with an embarrassed smile. "I beg your pardon for the interruption," she added and started to move away until she noticed that the normally pale Nathaniel was turning a vivid shade of red.
"You're not lost. I was just…" he trailed off and it was then that she noticed his clothing was slightly disheveled and his braids had been taken out, his hair hanging lose and dark, brushing his shoulders.
"Oh? Oh – I – will leave you to it. I mean…" Leonie trailed off as her embarrassment grew.
They stood staring at each other for long moments and later Leonie would wonder who was the more embarrassed of the two. Finally, when the silence was about to strangle her, she stuttered, "Oh Maker, just let Ser Tamra know that we will discuss her decision in the morning."
"Thank you Commander Leonie!" Tamra called from the room and Leonie's blush only heightened, as did Nathaniel's.
She walked quickly down the hall. Some would call it a hasty retreat but Leonie told herself it was merely a strategic one. She knocked softly on Sigrun's door.
"Hey Lion! What'd you need?" Sigrun asked, opening the door with a book in her hand. Sigrun had discovered the vast library of the Vigil and as Leonie stepped into Sigrun's room, she noticed a large stack of books on the floor beside the dwarf's bed.
"I wanted to make sure that your wounds were healing," Leonie explained and then waved at the pile of books. "But I shall not keep you from your reading," she added with a grin.
"There are so many books in one place. I tried to sneak into the Shaperate once. Shaper Czibor threatened to have me exiled," Sigrun explained with an unrepentant grin. "I told him he'd have to catch me first."
Leonie laughed. "I will have to arrange for my books to be sent from Val Royeaux. There is a history of the Orzammar Shaperate among them."
"Really? You would do that for me?" Sigrun asked, her blue eyes widened with surprise and delight.
"Absolutely. I shall send the letter tomorrow, my friend."
If only, Leonie thought tiredly as she wound around the long corridors to the staircase, she herself had time to curl up with a good book. With a grimace, she made her way down the stairs to her office. Both Varel and Garavel were waiting inside and Leonie began to issue orders immediately, eager to be done with her day.
"Captain Garavel, I want you to arrange for three guards to accompany me tomorrow morning. We are going to retrieve a body and I want a litter or, preferably, the oxcart to accompany us."
She saw Garavel frowning and raised her hand to stop the objection already forming on his lips. "Kristoff deserves no less than his due, a funeral pyre and service, Garavel. I will tolerate no arguments on the subject," she warned irately. Was there a notice posted somewhere in the keep that suggested she enjoyed issuing commands only to have to stop and explain them?
Garavel had the sense to nod and bow. "Yes, Commander. I will make the arrangements."
"You are also to make the arrangements for the funeral pyre. It will take four days for the round trip there and back. Have the pyre scheduled for the fourth night, yes?"
"At your order, ser," he answered and she dismissed him.
"A day without arguments would be a glorious day indeed," she remarked wistfully to Varel. He smiled slightly in sympathy.
"Yes, Commander, I should think so."
"Please make arrangements for Aura to have a larger, brighter room, yes? She will need a place to mourn in private but I do not wish her to be so far from other people," she instructed.
"As you say Commander," Varel replied and then asked in his oddly comforting, solid way, "Will she be with us long?"
Leonie tapped her chin lightly with a thoughtful expression and then nodded once. "If she in agreement, she will become the new keeper of the house, yes?"
"I believe you mean housekeeper, Commander," Varel corrected with a quiet huff of laughter.
"Is that not what I said?" Leonie sighed, moving fingers to her temple. Bath. Dinner. Bed. All were calling her, beckoning to her and all were just out of reach at the moment.
"Of course," Varel agreed and she saw his lips twitch as he handed her a stack of letters. "This is the official proclamation announcing Delilah Howe Beechem as the new Bann of Amaranthine. There are four copies you must sign. One goes to Teyrn Fergus Cousland, one goes to Queen Anora, one goes to Bann Delilah and one for your personal records."
"I suspect Teryn Fergus will not be at all happy with the decision. I wish to add a personal note in with the official letter, yes?"
"I think that would be wise. I will be happy to help with that," he offered.
"I want Loghain to add a letter to Queen Anora's. I shall include one as well but I think perhaps his voice will be the one she listens to."
Varel pulled up a chair and together they composed the note to Teryn Fergus Cousland. Leonie ended it with an invitation to visit the Vigil and Amaranthine. She extended the same invitation to the queen. She was sure they would both decline the invitation. She was not exactly on their favored guest lists. She gave Varel the letter and instructed him to find Loghain and have him add a note. With a sigh, she pulled another stack of paperwork to her.
An hour later, Leonie hurried out of her office and up the stairs, determined to take a hot bath and have a home cooked meal before any other duties prevented it. Thankfully she saw no one as she took the steps two at a time and, once in her room, waiting for the hot water to arrive, she sank onto the bed, glad beyond measure to feel the softness surround her.
A firm knock announced the arrival of her hot water and she ushered the young servants in. Within a few minutes she was soaking in the water, her head leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Her cuts were protesting but her muscles were practically purring in contentment as they began to uncoil.
Another knock, this one more than firm, startled her out of her contented state. She contemplated, with lazy indolence, ignoring the interruption and was about to do so when an imperious pounding caused her eyes to widen. Only Loghain had the effrontery to bang on her door in such a high-handed manner. Leonie supposed it was time to stop avoiding the inevitable argument.
She splashed out of the tub, grabbing her bathsheet. "A moment!" she called and struggled to dry off. Her skin glowing from the scrubbing, and still damp, she grabbed up her wrapper and belted it around her waist. Hasty fingers raked through her wet hair.
Loghain, looking no warmer than he had earlier, strode into her room the minute she opened the door. The temperature in the room dropped.
"Come in," she murmured dryly. "Do not stand upon formalities," she added, tightening the knot of her wrapper.
She stepped into the hall and motioned for the guard to step closer. "Please go to the kitchens and instruct the cook to send a dinner tray up in an hour. I suggest you avail yourself of a meal whilst there," she advised before closing the door and resting against it. There was no reason to have the unsuspecting guard witness to the argument that was about to ensue.
"I warn you, Loghain, should you yell and carry on, you will be met with equal verve," she cautioned. "It has been a very long day and I am exhausted. And," she continued, lips twitching, "may I also just say that you look terrible?"
Loghain did not reply, did not acknowledge the humor. He was alternating between ice and stone and she had to bite back the sudden rise of laughter that tickled her throat. He was angry and in the low lighting in her room, he looked almost petulant, a child not getting his way.
"Perhaps if you list my transgressions, we can get down to the actual argument," she finally said after several moments had passed.
Loghain was staring out her window and seemed to be lost in thought. She came closer, put a gentle hand on his arm. "Tell me what it is that is upsetting you, Loghain," she urged, squeezing his arm in encouragement.
"You said you love me," he began and then fell silent again. Leonie sighed. He was angry because she loved him? They would have a very rocky time of it if he got angry every time she declared her feelings.
"I did say that, yes."
"Why?" he asked and there was a savagery in his tone that caused her to take a step back, her hand dropping from his arm.
"Because it is so," she responded in surprise.
His sharp bark of laughter was bitter, a dull scrape of rusty hinges. He moved away from her. "The man who murdered your husband and then didn't have the decency to let you mourn him properly?" he asked sarcastically. "I find that difficult to believe."
Leonie's heart skidded and thudded along a bumpy path as she tried to understand the man before her. It was as if he didn't want forgiveness. A tortured soul who could not move beyond his pain because he could not acknowledge it and Leonie wondered suddenly if she had the strength within her to pull him, however reluctantly, to a place beyond that pain.
"The man who now holds my heart in his hands, yes," she finally murmured. "And difficult or no, I speak honestly, Loghain."
Silence again, so thick with emotion that Leonie could feel it wrapping around her like the heavy mist of the Blackmarsh.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he snarled suddenly, turning and taking a step forward, a step toward her. Leonie braced herself, knowing that if his anger turned outward against her, she would be forced to hurt him, to make good on her promise that he would not manhandle her again without consequences. His hands hung in tight fists at his sides as he waited for her answer.
"As I do not know to what you refer, I can hardly answer the question, Loghain."
"About your customs, about what my actions cost you?"
"I would not take a knife to a healed wound merely to open it and watch it bleed again. Why would I do such a thing?" she asked, her heart aching now at the sight of his pain. Her frustration at his unwillingness, his inability to just voice his real fears, his pain and be done with it softened.
He fell silent again and she saw how he was struggling with his emotions, how tired he was, how alone he was, living in a self-created universe of one.
"Come, Loghain, can you not just admit that your anger is because you are afraid? You are afraid, I think, of many things. Of being alone. Of being hurt. Of allowing me into your heart," she ended quietly, putting her hand on his arm again, looking into his face.
"You have been hurt many times, I see that. We have even discussed this before and I have told you that I will not deliberately hurt you," she continued tenderly. "Why can you not believe in my words?"
Loghain's face stilled and he closed his eyes. "You fight like a woman possessed, a woman who doesn't seem to care at all for her safety," he said finally but the icy heat of his anger was dissipating. A weariness crept in to his voice, highlighting his pain. And while the sudden change in his demeanor momentarily confused her, she was determined to work through these issues once and for all.
"I fight like a warrior. I am a warrior," she chided. "Would you put me in skirts and condemn me to a life as a lady of the manor? That would kill me, Loghain, more surely than any darkspawn, and more quickly than the taint within me."
A pain, a sharp brief flicker of raw emotion behind the icy blue eyes. She frowned. There was something else, something he couldn't bring himself to say hidden in those eyes.
"I don't want to watch you throw yourself at your enemies like a madwoman," he began and the ice started to harden again.
"I am smaller than you, lighter than you. I have neither the strength nor the reach that you, as a warrior, have. I must turn those drawbacks into strengths, yes? That includes launching myself at the enemy and anything else that gives me an advantage. Surely you know this, Loghain?"
"I find it amazing that you can excuse such reckless disregard for your life," he ground out as his pain gave way to anger again. "You have no comprehension of how unnerving it is to see you scaling a beast that is ten times your height and weight."
"Then do not watch. Or perhaps you would prefer to be the one in noble clothing, the gentleman of the manor?" Leonie responded, her impatience growing. He snorted in derision.
With blinding insight, Leonie leaned in to him, resting her head against his chest. "This is about your Fade dream, is it not?"
He was silent and she allowed the silence for a time before she said, "You saw something that you wanted, did you not? Something you long for and when you look at me you realize it is not possible, yes? That is where your true anger at me comes from. It is not about my fighting like a madwoman." She leaned away from him, studying his face. She could see that she had hit an exposed nerve, he flinched and moved away. The silence settled again, broken only by her stomach grumbling with empty impatience. She ignored it.
"Loghain, if you do not wish to talk, why are you here?" she finally asked, exasperated by his reticence. "You start to say something and you stop. You, the former regent, the right hand of Maric. Both positions that require quick thinking and clear speech, I would hazard. How is that possible that you cannot complete a coherent thought now?"
He moved to her again, quick steps, and she tensed. He saw it, his eyes closing briefly. "I suppose I deserve that," he said and there was a hint of warmth in his tone, a hint of humor. He reached out and let his hands rested lightly on her arms.
"I can't understand you at all," he said finally. "You keep me completely off guard."
"And that is not a state you enjoy," she guessed and her heart hurt, seemed to shrink as he nodded. He was going to tell her he could not continue with the relationship, that he could not love her. To her dismay she could even appreciate why. She pre-empted him. "Perhaps we should agree to stop this now, before we hurt each other more than we already have."
Silence again, long and bleak. It was her turn to move to the window and stare out into the darkness. They would always argue and she could accept that. She could not, however, bring herself to continue to hurt him. She leaned her head against the cool pane of glass and closed her eyes. She was too tired and too confused to cry.
"You are the most impractical, imprudent, impossible, implacable woman I have ever known," Loghain began, coming to stand behind her. She felt his hands, as light as thistledown, on her shoulders, felt his breath against her ear.
"I can see where that might make our relationship a painful thing," she agreed with a soft sigh. "I would wish that we argued only of inconsequential things, which side of the bed to sleep on, whether to have wine or ale with our meal. I would wish that we could agree that, while we are as different as the bear and the lion, there is some need within us that calls to the other. I would wish we could arrange a time each day to just be alone, to learn more about the other." Again she sighed.
"But I would not cause you pain, that was never my intention," she finished and her sadness threatened to overwhelm her, to break her resolve not to cry. She clenched her jaws, her determination not to ask him to love her, to accept her, to accept himself threatening to abandon her.
She felt his hands moving lightly along her arms and back again to rest on her shoulders. "Is that what you really want?" he asked finally and she heard the uncertainty in his voice.
"What do you want?" she countered quietly, a whispered sigh of regret.
"To understand why you love me, to understand why it matters to me. Why you matter to me," he answered against her neck. "To stop wondering when it will end, when you will see me for who I really am."
It was as honest as she had ever heard him. Hope stirred in her, as tentative and fragile as the first bloom of spring flowers. "I see who you are, Loghain. Love does not make one blind. And in seeing who you are, I still choose to love you. I see who I am more clearly."
He turned her slowly to face him and his eyes bored into hers, probing for a truth he wanted to believe in. He slanted is mouth over hers, his lips light and undemanding. "Teach me how to accept, how to believe," he whispered against her lips.
Before she could respond, the window shattered, showering them with glass. She gave a startled cry as Loghain threw her to the ground and called for the guard, who burst into the room, weapon drawn. Heart pounding, blood thrumming with adrenaline, Leonie reached out and took the rock that had been hurled through the window. With shaking fingers she untied the vellum that was attached to it. The words sickened her, angered her, but they did not frighten her.
"You will pay, you Orlesian whore."