"Loghain?"

He heard her voice calling for him through the trees. He had the sudden notion that he was seventeen years old again. What exactly did he think he was doing here? First, he practically assaulted the poor girl and then he runs off like an humiliated child? It was official, he had completely lost touch with reality. If he had any sense left at all, he'd go talk to her, apologize for being a swine and implore her to pretend it never happened.

But he wasn't moving, and he wasn't responding to her calls.

Once, he'd tried to run away from his responsibilities. After Rowan had rejected him the first time, he had gathered up his things and had nearly been gone before Maric found him. But instead of leaving as he intended, he'd ended that night as a commander in the rebel army and on his knees giving his oath of loyalty to serve Maric.

Loghain was never quite sure if he was proud or mortified by that memory.

He'd run for the same reason that night that he fled on this one. Kya hadn't rejected him, but he was silent now because it felt incontrovertible that she would. He often wondered at the fact that he could face an army, practically rule Ferelden for a very long time and make all the difficult decisions a man would ever face, but he could not brave a lone woman.

He knew the truth of that, at least.

To the world, Loghain made himself an unstoppable force, an impenetrable shield, a wall without even the slightest chink. There could be no vulnerability in a world full of opportunists and assassins. But when he was alone, as he had been far too often for one lifetime, he was weak. He was pathetic and alone and knew it was because at his core, he was simply unlovable. It wasn't a complicated equation, at that.

How could he have let this happen again? How could his foolishness and vanity brought him so close to ruin yet again?

"Loghain!" he heard her say again, her voice sounding near panic. "I know you're here." He heard her tentative footsteps in the fallen leaves. It was pitch black beneath the canopy of the trees, and he was glad of it. She would not see the weakness he fought against, and was failing to defeat.

"Fine," she said. "If you won't say anything, then just listen." He heard her sigh.

"I might just be standing here in the dark, talking to myself like an idiot," she said. "But if you are here, I hope you are actually listening. And not just deciding what I'm saying, but really hearing me. I get the impression that you usually predict what people are going to say, before they do. And I have news for you Loghain, sometimes you are going to get it wrong."

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool, smooth bark of a nearby tree. He wanted nothing more than to leave. He did not want to hear this, but he knew if he moved, she'd hear him and he'd have no choice. At least this way he might be able to pretend later that he'd heard nothing. And perhaps even manage to convince himself what he had just done was nothing more than a bad dream.

"First, I want you to know that if you ever get the urge to kiss me again," she started. "I think you should just go ahead and do it, as long as you promise not to run off again."

Loghain was sure he was dreaming now.

"Because perhaps it is madness," she continued. "But I liked it. I just wish it hadn't happened so fast that I missed most of it."

Yes, dreaming. It was the only possible explanation.

"Maker," she said, sounding equally frustrated and embarrassed. "Why does everything need to be so sodding complicated? You know, sometimes I think fate has a terrible sense of humor. Of all the people in the world . . . ." She sighed again. "You aren't here, are you?" she asked the darkness.

Loghain knew he should say something, but he couldn't find his voice.

"Andraste's frilly knickers, I am so stupid," she continued. "You probably just don't want to have to face me to tell me that you were . . . just overtired or something. I can't believe I actually thought . . . ." She made a little sound like a sob. "I am so brainless. Me and my insipid heart again."

He wasn't sure he was actually hearing what she was saying, but it sounded so much like what he was feeling he could scarcely believe it.

"Do you know how many times I've been wrong?" she said. He realized she wasn't really talking to him anymore, just to herself. "How many times did I want to think that someone might actually care about me? Not just what they thought I was, or hoped I was . . . Cullen thought I was some unattainable thing, and only wanted me because he couldn't have me. And Alistair . . . he was in love with some sodding heroine I've never even met. I just kept hoping that someday, somebody would finally see me or at least take the time to try." She hiccupped.

Kya was crying.

"And, you know, I thought my luck was changing at last. I never tried to pretend I was someone else with you. And that isn't easy. It's easier to play a part, even a role that you despise. Then if you don't get loved, it doesn't hurt so much. Because it wasn't really me," she said. She took a shaky breath. "And I was so stupid to think that you might be the one to do it. To see me, and decide I was worth it anyway. Maker, I just want to crawl in a hole."

He heard her take a few shuffling steps, and sniffle.

"The worst part of it is that I just can't stop. I know I'm supposed to hate you, but I can't," she said. "Even now, when it's hopeless, I just can't. Because even though it goes against everything that's right, and sensible and reasonable, I can't hate you. I think I might just love you instead."

It felt like the ground had just been torn out from under Loghain's feet. She didn't say anything, or move for what seemed like an eternity. She made a few small sounds that made him feel like his heart might explode.

"I really thought you might feel the same way," she said finally. "But I guess I was wrong."

He heard her turn, saw just the tiniest flicker of her outline in the shadows.

"I should have never asked you to sleep with Morrigan. I should have just done what I was supposed to, and died. I'd make a far better hero that way," she said.

She started walking away. Although it was harder than if he'd fought the entire Orlesian army himself, Loghain managed to speak.

"Wait," he said.

"Oh Maker," she said, sounding aghast. "You are here. And you heard all that."

"I did," he managed. "And I'm not sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," she said. She sounded angry. "But I swear if you try to use what I just said against me, I'll . . . I'll think of something suitably horrible."

With that, she tore off. Loghain heard her crashing through the brush. She said something that sounded like a curse and he distinctly heard the sound of her falling. And then it was deadly silent. Spurred into action, he went after her. He stumbled through the undergrowth, the brush grabbing at his clothes. A branch snapped against his face and he felt it draw blood.

The trees thinned just enough to let the light of the moon through when he spotted her laying on the ground. She was cradling her ankle, with a stricken look on her face. Her face glittered with the stains of tears.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, crouching down beside her. Her hand struck out like a snake, pushing him hard across his chest, sending him off balance. He fell back completely ungracefully and hit the back of his head against a sapling.

"Of course I'm hurt, you idiot," she spat at him. "I go chasing off into the dark to find you, spill my guts like I'm insane and then trip over a sodding log and fall on my face. What do you think?"

Loghain closed his eyes. "I think I'm sorry."

"Save it," she snapped. "I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity," he said. He wanted desperately to say something, anything that might make her understand, but he couldn't find words.

She made a face. "I'm sure it's not." She sighed. "Look, I already feel stupid enough. I don't need any help."

They sat, just looking at each other in the wan light. She blinked hard and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

"Did you mean it?" Loghain eventually blurted out.

"Yes," she said slowly. It looked like she was having a very hard time keeping her eyes on his. "I did. I thought I was talking to myself after all, it's rather pointless to lie at that point."

"You would think," he said. "But it is entirely possible to lie to yourself. Maker knows I've done it often enough."

"Did you?" she asked.

"Did I what?"

"Did you mean it? I guess you didn't really say anything, but you know what I mean." She looked flustered.

"I think maybe I did," he admitted.

"Then why did you leave?"

"I don't know," he said.

"Liar." Kya gave him a little grin. "I bet you know exactly why you left, you just aren't going to tell me."

"Not today," he said, running his hand through his hair. His fingers snagged on a piece of twig tangled there. Kya crept on to her knees as he struggled to untwist it. She reached up and gently pulled it out for him, holding it out like a trophy. She dropped it to the ground, but didn't move. She was very, very close.

Loghain looked up at her.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked, reaching out tentatively. She gently brushed the tips of her fingers against his cheekbone. He closed his eyes. Before he could open them again, he felt her breath against his face.

"If I kiss you, you aren't going to go chasing off into the woods again, are you?" she asked, her lips brushing against his cheek.

Loghain shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Good," she said.

And then she did. Every coherent thought Loghain had leapt out of his head to make room for the feeling of her lips and her cool hands, one on his face and the other on the back of his neck. Her fingers tangled into his hair. He felt his arms reach up as if they had minds of their own, wrapping around her. Almost unconsciously, he leaned back and she followed until she was nestled into the crook of his arm.

He forgot to breathe.

When it finally seemed like he might be content to die right then and there, she pulled away and burrowed down against him, wrapping her arm around his chest. She made a contented little sound. It was the sort of sound Loghain realized he'd always wanted to hear, but had never quite been lucky enough before to have.

"So," she said quietly. "Now what?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Loghain said. He groaned. "Anora is going to have me executed."

Kya laughed. "Yes, well, my head will be on the pike right next to yours."

"This is a bad idea," he said, turning his head to look at her. She tilted her head up and kissed his chin.

"I don't doubt it," she said. "But if I faced an archdemon, I think I can manage to face your daughter." She paused. "Eventually, anyway. And besides, I've only kissed you, I can't imagine that's grounds for a death sentence."

"Then you don't know Anora very well," Loghain chuckled.

"Well, if that's the case," she said, sitting up, but leaving her hand on his chest, "When we get to Amarathine, I promise I'll do something worthy of the punishment."

The look on her face was positively wicked.

And if Loghain had been able to have his way, he would have put her back on the horse and raced to Amaranthine so fast the horse would probably die from the strain. From the look she was giving him, he was certain it would be worth it.