Loghain felt good.
After all the injuries he'd suffered in the battle to save Denerim, he wasn't sure he'd ever be the same again. But most amazingly, Wynne had spent innumerable hours healing both he and Kya, and he realized she may have even healed old wounds he'd forgotten he had.
Amaranthine was a long way off, but he found the prospect of an extended journey was rather appealing. Especially the idea of a journey without someone hunting him. Although their awaiting company was mostly Ferelden, there were a large number of Orlesian Wardens with them. He expected it would make him cranky. He discovered quickly that he really didn't care.
He'd still defend the borders of Ferelden against Orlais to the death, Grey Warden or not, but these were Wardens first. Finally he knew what that meant. And if it meant being part of the glorious thing that happened on top of Fort Drakon, maybe even he could learn to respect them, Orlesian blood and all.
Maker's Breath, he was starting to sound like Cailan.
But what made him even more gratified than his new level of tolerance, was the horses. No more blasted walking, and he had a particular fondness for horses themselves as well. He was also amused by the decidedly worried look on Kya's face when she spotted the animals.
"Oh great," she sighed. "I get to leave Denerim all dignified by falling off the back some beast. That'll be just sodding wonderful."
"Falling off?" Loghain commented, reminded of Maric for a moment. He was forever falling off horses. "Why would you do that?"
Kya gave him a blazing look. "Because I've never actually ridden a horse before. Remember, Circle of Magi? If you missed it, there aren't exactly stables in the tower."
Loghain felt a little jolt at her familiar tone. "We could always pack you into one of the wagons."
"Very funny," she snapped. She was looking up at the horse with trepidation.
"Or," he said, suddenly feeling a rather enormous amount of trepidation himself, "Until we have time for some riding lessons, you could ride with me."
Kya looked equally relieved and nervous. "You can do that?"
"Of course," Loghain said, "The horse certainly won't mind."
"What about you?" she asked. "Don't you think that might be . . . uncomfortable for you?"
"Why would it be?"
"You are still Loghain Mac Tir, the hero of River Dane, and I expect . . . ."
He cut her off. "I'm a Grey Warden, assisting his commander. Unless that is a problem."
"No, of course it isn't," she said quickly. Very quickly, he noted.
She was looking at him again, with that strange wistful expression he just couldn't comprehend. But it made him feel a bit like his chest might explode. He'd come to terms with what happened when the archdemon died as best he could, but it wasn't easy.
He was tired of lying to himself. And he just couldn't be honest and deny that he felt something for her. Something that was more intense and certainly more affectionate than what a man should feel for his commander. Of course, the Grey Wardens were not an army. With the exception of Kya's position, they had no ranks, no chain of command. They were all equals. She was just the first among equals.
When she looked at him like that, it made him feel like he was a young man again. And it had been a very long time since anyone would have described him as such. He wasn't sure he'd even been young when he was young.
She raised her eyebrows at him. She was waiting for him to say something, or do something, but he had just been staring like a slack jawed fool. He cleared his throat and turned to the horse, taking the reins in his hand.
"Here," he said, turning the horse to face her. "Say hello."
Kya reached out her hand, very slowly and touched the horse's snout. She looked surprised.
"Oh," she exclaimed. "It's so soft!"
Loghain found himself smiling. "Yes, it is." He ran his hand down the beast's forehead, patting it affectionately. He had always had a fondness for animals, horses in particular. And Mabari hounds, which he was reminded of as Kya's brindle hound, Keiran, ran towards them. The little stub of his tail wagged so hard his entire body shook.
"Hey there boy!" Kya said, crouching down and throwing her arms around Keiran's thick neck. She kissed his nose and he gave a happy little bark. "Think you can keep up with the horses?" she asked him. He barked again. Kya kissed him again, completely oblivious to the hound's fearsome appearance.
Loghain loved animals; it was true. But he'd never felt jealous of one before.
She stood and looked at him again. She squared her shoulders.
"Alright," she said, "Let's get this over with."
"Your foot here," he gestured. "Take the pommel in your hand, and jump."
She did as he instructed and managed it rather gracefully, all things considered. But once she was perched in the saddle, he realized she looked very pale.
She faced the archdemon, a nearly immortal dragon, as big as house and spewing flames of unnatural purple fire and she looked terrified at the prospect of riding a horse. It gave Loghain a boost of confidence, at that. Perhaps it was endurable then that he was half terrified of climbing up on the horse behind her.
But they were waiting, so Loghain swung up behind her. She tensed and swayed a bit at his abrupt movement, and he had to grab her around the waist to keep her steady. It had a rather profound effect on him when she relaxed back against him.
Kya trusted him. Of all the people in the world, and after all the ways he had tried to hurt her, without ever knowing who she was, she trusted him.
Loghain's revelry was cut short by the arrival of the King and Queen. The looks from both Alistair and his daughter seeing him up on the horse with his arm wrapped around Kya chilled his blood. As the cliche went -- if looks could kill -- he would have been dead on the spot. Although he wasn't sure if it was Alistair or Anora's expression that was more deadly.
"Father, Warden," Anora said, recovering her composure first. "I see that you are ready to depart."
"I see something," Alistair said. Loghain wouldn't say he growled it, but it was suspiciously close.
Kya tensed again and sat up straight. He could feel that it was the last thing she wanted to do, but he knew her well enough to know she wasn't about to show weakness now.
"Yes, your Majesties," she said formally. "Have you come to see us off?"
"We have," Anora replied. Her tone was suitably regal. "And we have one last subject of great import it occurred to us that we did not inform you of."
"And that is?" Kya asked. Loghain got the impression she was trying very hard not to sound annoyed.
"Although the Arling of Amaranthine is granted to the Grey Wardens, it will still need to be governed. And from what I understand, the Grey Wardens as a group do not involve themselves with politics," Anora intoned. "At least under normal circumstances."
"That's right," Kya said. "Not under normal circumstances, that is."
Anora continued, "As such, we do not expect the Grey Wardens to be involved directly in . . . ."
"What the Queen is trying to say," Alistair interrupted, "Is that we intend to offer that duty to you."
"Excuse me?" Kya said.
"If you will accept, we would like you to be the Arlessa of Amaranthine," Anora finished, giving Alistair an aggravated look.
"I . . . appreciate the offer," Kya said, choosing her words carefully. "But I am a Grey Warden, your Majesties, and furthermore, I am a mage. As a mage cannot inherit a title, I am not suited for such an honor."
"Perhaps it is time such practices are amended," Anora said.
"Maybe someday," Kya said. "But not today, and not for me. I have no need of more responsibilities. I will serve the crown, in my own way, but not in this. Amarantine will be protected by the Grey Wardens, but we will not be more involved than that." Kya paused, as if she was waiting for an argument. But there was none.
"I thought as much," Anora said finally. "But the King insisted. He felt that a Grey Warden presence at the Landsmeet might benefit Ferelden."
Alistair looked mortified.
"It might at that," Loghain interjected. "But I agree with Commander Kya; the Grey Wardens have no place in politics."
The irony of that statement was not lost on him. If it hadn't been for a particular Grey Warden entangling herself rather deeply into Ferelden politics, he wouldn't be on the back of this horse with that same young and formidable woman sitting between his legs.
Instead, he'd likely be dead.
"Again," Kya said, " I thank you for your offer, but I must decline. And now, we must take our leave. The road to Amarathine is long, and there is much to be done." She leaned back slightly and whispered so only Loghain could hear. "Think you can give us a suitably dramatic exit?"
He resisted the urge to laugh, and instead spurred the horse forward.
"Farewell, your Majesties," she said as the horse found it's rhythm.
Loghain urged the horse forward, quickly from a walk to a gallop. He wrapped his arm tightly around Kya, remembering her comment about falling. If she wanted a dramatic exit, he was more than happy to give her one. He'd learned the power of a theatrical performance a long time ago. Not only did it leave an impression, but it felt damn good.
Loghain heard Kya laugh though the rush of the wind past his face. He could get used to this.
"I cannot believe they . . . he . . . tried to pull such a sneaky, backhanded thing," Kya said, sighing.
"Perhaps he is grasping politics faster than I expected," Loghain replied. He'd slowed the horse to gentle walk, since they'd gotten so far ahead. He could hear the creak of wagons and the thrum of voices in the distance as the group they'd assembled followed. They were still a way off, leaving the two of them alone.
And she was still leaning against him, a warm presence between his legs. She seemed to be catching on to the rhythm of moving with the horse quickly. Loghain knew it would be perfectly safe to move his arm from where it was still wrapped around her, but he found he had no desire to do so. Maybe it wasn't surprising, but she didn't seem to mind.
"Maker's breath, that's a horrifying thought," she said. "I hope Anora has enough will to prevent him from doing anything too stupid."
Loghain sighed. He might have her in his arms, but she was still thinking about him.
"Ah, but it doesn't matter," she continued. She leaned her head back against his shoulder. "I really don't want to think about either of them for a very long time."
"No?" Loghain asked.
"No," she repeated. "Not one bit. And frankly I'd like to pretend not to be a Grey Warden, for a couple hours at least."
"Then how will you explain why you are here?" he asked.
"Which part?" she asked. He saw the corners of her eyes crinkle. "The bit where I'm on my way to Amaranthine or the bit where I'm sitting rather close to you?"
Loghain wasn't sure what to say. He realized he was suddenly very uneasy. It seemed she sensed it as soon as he did and she sat up a bit straighter, lifting her head.
"Sorry," she said quietly. "That was rather inappropriate, wasn't it?"
"I . . . ," he began. "No, not really." Andraste's flaming sword, he sounded like an imbecile. "I am just not sure that I'm used to . . . ."
"To someone talking to you like you're a person?" she finished his thought.
"You have the gist of it," he said. "I have been called 'my lord' for so long, I think I've forgotten."
"Why do you think I wanted to get away from Denerim so quickly?" she said. She leaned her head back again. "For your sake as much as mine. I didn't forget what you said."
"What did I say?" Loghain asked, trying to ignore how right it felt having her resting against him.
"You said you wanted a life of your own," she said. "And I think I owe you that much, at least."
He shook his head. "You don't owe me anything."
"Maybe not," she said. "But I'm going to do it anyway."
