Second chapter for Masked Mirrors. Not much to say about it except that I was really eager to get this written so I started it almost the second I had the first chapter posted. I'm not sure how quickly updates will come considering the fact my work week just started, but I'll do my best to keep the wait from becoming too long.

Again, don't own Dragon Age. Loghain and Solona belongs to Bioware, but I'm happy to say this version of her is all mine.

Chapter 2: Welcome Home

To say that Solona Amell was suspicious when she was asked to have tea with the Queen Anora would have been an understatement. Warnings had been going off in her mind from the moment she'd received the invitation, brought to her by a personal messenger who insisted Her Majesty wanted to see her as soon as possible.

It wasn't like she had never had dealings with the royal woman before, but it was always when she was already in Denerim for some other reason. She'd never been personally invited from Amaranthine just to socialize, and something about it hadn't bode well to her.

Still, it's not like she could say no. Even if she'd planned to ignore it, the messenger had been given instructions to take her there himself, so she couldn't claim the invitation hadn't gotten to her. With no good excuse to not go, she'd had little choice in the matter.

It was why she was in the gardens of the castle now, sitting across from Anora at a little white painted table of beautiful decoration, and a tea set spread out in front of her that probably cost more than a soldier working in the Ferelden army made in a month. It wasn't the first time she'd been here, in this position, but before Solona knew just why the queen wanted to talk to her. This time was a total mystery.

"I trust you are enjoying the tea?" the queen asked as she sipped daintily from her cup.

"You know as well as I do that I haven't touched it," Solona remarked. True enough, her cup was still full and untouched.

"It's called polite conversation. Something important for court, you know," Anora said, her eyebrow arched a bit. "Not to your taste?"

"The tea or polite conversation?" she asked.

"Take your pick."

"I'd prefer blunt honesty, actually," the mage replied. "You've never invited me to the castle in almost two years. I can't help but wonder why you decided to break from tradition."

The queen looked at her for a second, her expression blank, but Solona could tell the gears in her mind was turning. She let the woman think, picking up the tea to drink. It wasn't bad actually. She'd always preferred coffee though. Tea was just a bit too sweet for her, something she'd never bothered to mention to the queen. It's not like the drinks would change if she did.

"I have a favor I wanted to ask of you," Anora confessed. "Something only you could do."

"I see," Solona said. "Trouble in the kingdom?"

"Not exactly, no. This really is a friendly visit. Nothing official," Anora said. "As I'm sure you're aware, the second anniversary of the end of the Blight is approaching. Ferelden has many dates to celebrate. So many good things happened for the country then, and I think it's a good idea to let the people enjoy themselves."

"You want me there?" Solona asked. Of course she'd want her there. She was the Hero of Ferelden after all. "You could have just invited me with a letter, Your Majesty. No need to invite me personally."

"Oh, I know," Anora said. "Of course you're expected to make an appearance. Several, in fact. I don't plan just one celebration. With the date of my anniversary to Alistair, along with the end of the civil war. There are plenty of official dates that could use a holiday. I've decided to make it a long event for the nobles and people to enjoy. The matter is though, I think there is someone who simply must be here, even more than you."

"Oh?" Solona asked as she took another sip. "Who?"

"My father."

For a moment, the mage said nothing. She set her cup down and waited for Anora to continue, but it seemed she'd said her piece so far. Eventually the mage pushed the cup away and leaned back in her chair.

"You want to invite your father to this party, and you called me here instead?" she guessed. "I'm going to assume there's some reason why."

"I won't waste words. The fact is, my father has been away for far too long. I have not seen him since he was called away by the Grey Wardens. They've flat out said it's to keep him from interfering with politics here. If I were to invite him back, they may see it as a plot," Anora explained.

"Your Majesty, if I may speak frankly?" Solona asked.

"Yes?"

"Have you gotten worse at lying since the last time I saw you?"

The queen's face went a bit red for a moment, her lips pursed together. Solona could tell she'd struck a nerve, but she didn't feel sorry for it. Whenever they talked it was about Loghain. The mage was long since used to it, and liked the honesty between them. She knew perfectly well Anora could care less about her, but kept things polite because it was easier.

If she was going to be drug away from her keep and her command by Anora, she was going to know why, and it was going to be the truth.

"The Grey Wardens have no problem with visiting amongst family and I know personally he's been keeping his nose clean. They would have no problem with his own daughter asking him to come home for a short time. You're a clever woman too. I know you know this. So why don't you tell me what you really want from me, and why?" she suggested. "Otherwise I must thank you for the tea and be on my way. I have work to do."

"You'd never survive in the royal court with the way you speak so frankly," Anora muttered. "These matters are delicate. It's important to be treated that way."

"I have no time for court anyway. It's not my interests," she admitted. "So, what do you really need?"

"What I've told you before. You to invite my father to these events," Anora said. "As for the reason? Fine. The truth is, Alistair and I have been... strained lately. More so than usual. I won't get into details but he's... been distant. Cold."

Solona wasn't aware there wasn't a time when Alistair hadn't been cold to Anora. What had changed so much to make it worse?

"Is this whole party a chance to cheer him up?"

"This is for the good of the kingdom. If he wants to sulk, it's on him. He's simply ignoring his duties to me," Anora snapped. "I need him for certain things, and he refuses to help."

"I thought he'd been a great influence on the throne so far," Solona said in confusion. "What's happened?"

"No... not that," Anora admitted. She began playing with her fingers and fidgeted a little in her chair, a nervous habit of hers. "He's been neglecting his duties to... me. For an heir."

The mage, for the first time since she'd sat down here for this discussion, felt shocked. That was not something she'd been expecting to hear. She wasn't sure she wanted to either.

"I don't see how I have anything to do with that," she said quickly.

"What you have to do with it is nothing at all, I can assure you that," Anora said, her eyes cold. "I can work on the rift between my husband and I just fine. That is not the issue at hand. What is, is the fact my father should be here for this. His reputation is in tatters and I know he can rebuild it by coming back here. It's only... Alistair has never forgiven him. I cannot be the one to invite him without risking repercussion, but I know you two are in contact. If your official invitation were to include a guest to bring, surely it would be fine for you to ask him. No one would need to know it was on my behalf."

"I don't think that would make the king very happy with me," Solona noted.

"It doesn't matter. He hates you anyway."

The mage sat there and felt a little cold when she heard the harsh words stated so casually. Even after all this time, there was a sting to hearing things like that. The queen was able to say it so easily, as if it were fact as true as the sky being blue. Maybe it was. It's not like Solona could go and ask him about it, nor did she really want to.

She sat there and considered for a moment, thinking it over in her mind. It had been a long time since she'd seen the man. Not since that night that she'd caught him in his bedroom, and then an awkward farewell the next morning. Things had long since been smoothed over in the letters obviously, and by smoothed over, she meant ignored and never brought up. Loghain probably didn't even remember that night, even though it had haunted the mage quite a few times in weaker, and more fun, moments.

Her thoughts about the former general had only grown since then, and in a way she never would have expected them to. The sight of him naked and bare underneath his blanket had burned into her mind and she'd never been able to truly chase it away. She'd never wanted to either. To say she'd had lusty thoughts about him would be downplaying it in the extreme. There had been times she'd absolutely yearned for him.

She'd come a long way from that shy young woman who didn't even know what to do with a man beyond theory, one who'd run from his bed without even explaining why. She wondered what it would be like to see him again, the things she could talk to him about now. After all, she was more grown up, and he would only be here for a short time.

At the very least, it would be nice to have him around again. More than that... well, perhaps she could convince him of her interests, if she were able to put it in a way he might appreciate. She wasn't sure what kind of woman he liked, but she was certainly bold enough to ask him now or at least put out a few hints and see if he caught her intentions.

Solona looked at Anora, even as she wondered if her father was just as delicious looking as he had been over a year ago and wondered what it would be like to taste him. Filthy thoughts were already dancing in her mind of running her tongue along his body and she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

"It's been a while since I've been to the estate here in Denerim anyway, and it seems like it would be a bit empty if it were just me," she admitted. "Very well. I don't mind inviting him for you."

"Thank you," Anora said. "I only have one further condition, if you don't mind?"

"What's that?"

"Don't tell anyone why you invited him, not even him. If anyone asks, just tell them you wanted to see him again," the queen instructed. "Especially Alistair."

If the invitation to tea had been suspicious, this felt like Anora waiting for her to turn around to plunge a dagger in her back in comparison. This was beyond just a little suspicious. Why would she care if Loghain knew the truth? He'd never be dumb enough to say anything and risk upsetting his daughter's marriage. Oh well. Solona didn't honestly care enough at this point. Anora was right. Alistair could not be any more distant from the mage if she went up and slapped him, and it wasn't anyone else's business why she would invite Loghain. Besides, the 'false' reason for asking him was true even if Anora didn't know it.
She did want to see Loghain again after all. The mage might never have thought to ask him on her own for risk of rocking the waters, but since she'd been asked, she certainly would do it. Just not for the queen.

It still made her think Anora wasn't quite telling her everything, all this secrecy, but she considered the fact she'd be trying her best to seduce the woman's father right underneath her nose was good enough revenge on the queen for making her be a part of all this cloak and dagger silliness.

#-#

Loghain's travels to reach Montsimmard had taken him almost a month when he'd first left, but he made it back to Denerim in only a week. Taking the direct roads had helped this time, and he was actually eager to get to his destination this time instead of doing everything he could to put it off. It was a delight to actually be back home again. The sound of his people talking, the smell of the city, and even the air felt welcoming to him. The cool, crisp breeze on his face was a wonderful sensation, even as it whipped his cloak about him and he had to tug it tight around himself to keep warm.

While he did wish to wander around the city and enjoy the sights he'd long missed, he was tired from his journey. The very first thing he was concerned about was getting some rest.

It seemed Amell had been waiting for him to show though, because he had not been in the city for longer than fifteen minutes before a young boy ran up to him. He was dirty and a bit on the gangly side, and when he smiled his two front teeth were missing.

"Loghain Mac Tir?" he asked.

Loghain felt a little insulted the boy even asked. He was well known enough in his country, especially this city, to know there was no need for anyone to ask.

"Yes," he said. "What?"

"Me and some of the boys were told to tell you if we saw you. Arlessa Amell is waiting in her manor, formerly Howe's estate. She requests that you come as soon as you can," he said as he rubbed at his pockets before giving a big smile.

"You expect a tip, I take it?" Loghain asked.

"If you're going to tell me to take a bath and eat a hot meal, I already heard that today, Ser. Twice," he said with a shrug, his smile turning into a frown.

The former general grabbed a couple silvers from his side pouch and pushed it in the boy's hands. He could afford more, but he knew these messenger boys. Give them too much, and the whole pack would follow you around in hopes for more. He didn't feel like getting the headache, so he moved on almost immediately.

It didn't take long to reach the estate, but he was a little surprised by it. When Howe had lived here, it had been crawling with guards and servants. Yet when he was greeted, it was only by a couple of older elves that had graying hair, along with a daughter who looked to be little older than fifteen or so.

"Arlessa Amell is upstairs," he'd been informed as they bowed their heads to him. "Freilni, go get the mistress."

The girl had curtsied a bit to the man, then ran off to find the mage. Loghain looked around as he waited, seeing many of the rooms boarded off or closed with tapestries blocking spots he knew doors would be.

"Is the manor being reconstructed?" he asked the older elf woman.

"No, Ser," she said with a nod. "We are the only care takers left of the house. Most of the staff was moved elsewhere, and the guards fired or pulled into serving at Vigil's Keep. Arlessa Amell has little interest in the house. She only keeps it for taxes and to stay when on business here in Denerim. Most of the manor has been closed off to reduce cost for heating."

Of course it would be too spacey for a single woman and just a few servants. Howe himself had loved power as well as showing it off. He'd liked having his own personal army of guards, and a place to keep them. Commander Amell had her keep though, so she probably had little use for another large home to worry about.

After another few minutes, the elf girl came back, along with a young woman. Loghain looked at Solona for the first time in eighteen months and was shocked by her appearance.

When he had last seen her, the commander had been rather skinny, almost underdeveloped. Too much time spent cooped up in some tower, left to look small in comparison to her companions, like a weed in a garden. She'd still been growing into herself back then, only seventeen or eighteen at the time if he could recall correctly. Though legally an adult at sixteen, she hadn't really been physically.

That had clearly changed over time. There was more meat on her bones now, the appetite of being a Grey Warden clearly doing her some good. She was dressed in a sleek gown of red velvet, cut low in both the front and back, with golden embroidery and a golden chain for a belt. Her chestnut hair had also grown, while before it had been short, now her hair was tied into a bun with her long bangs trailing down the sides of her face and resting on her breasts. Even though she was fully dressed, her curves were obvious, nothing but a healthy woman standing in front of him.

She had certainly grown into her own over time.

"Loghain, I'm so glad you made it," she said as she approached him. "How are you? Was the trip okay?"

"I made it here alive. I think that should be answer enough," he stated, though he paused when she took his hands into her own.

"It's been too long. I'm so happy you accepted my invitation. You'll have to forgive the dress. I was in the middle of trying on gowns for the parties. You're lucky you got here a few days early. Your daughter has been doing nothing but giving suggestions about what I should wear and what I should say since I agreed to come. I'm sure she'll want to go over you with a fine tooth comb as well. You'll probably have a nice set of ceremonial armor you can use though. Lucky you. Apparently none of my battle robes are appropriate," she explained.

"There's nothing to excuse," he said politely. "It looks charming on you."

She smiled softly, and dropped his hands, twirling her fingers through her strands of hair before shaking her head.

"You must be tired from your trip. Have you eaten?" she asked. "Rossdaer makes a wonderful stew. Perfect for cold days like this."

The male elf nodded his head a bit.

"That sounds fine. Thank you," Loghain said.

"Perfect. Freilni, take his bags to his room, and Gratna, fetch a bottle of wine," Solona instructed.

"Any year you would like, Arlessa?" the woman asked.

"This is a celebration to welcome the Hero of the River Dane home," she said as she pondered it over, tapping a finger on her chin. "I think something from the sixth age would be appropriate."

"As you say, Arlessa," she said before bowing a bit and the three left to take care of their duties.

"You have become very comfortable with command, I see," he noted. "So much for your position being temporary."

"I had always intended it to be that way," she admitted. "I guess it stuck though. I'm not here much though, so I like to relax when I am, or at least try to. It's almost always business when I'm in Denerim. These three don't even see me much. I pretty much give them run of the house while I'm away."

He followed her to the dinning hall, the large table still there, made to sit a good twenty people, and still as many chairs. To be polite, he pulled the chair at the head out for her and allowed her to sit before before pushing it gently back in.

"As I said before, you wear it well," he said. "You've gotten a confidence about you. It's a good thing."

"Yes, I suppose confidence was not the first trait people would have described me with when I first left the Circle," she admitted. "I was probably too young to be out trying to save the world."

"There have been younger," he told her as he began to remove his cloak, stained a dirty brown in all his traveling. He noticed her eyes catch on him when his Grey Warden armor underneath was revealed and he almost regretted taking off his cloak as he sat down at her left. "It's utterly foolish looking, isn't it?"

"This is the first time I've seen the Orlesian Warden armor," she admitted as she looked him up and down. "In person anyway. I've seen pictures, sketches. Her Majesty seems to think we should adapt a similar uniform, for unity purposes."

"Oh really?" he asked with an eyebrow arched before snorting. "I certainly hope not."

"It looks handsome on you," she commented suddenly. "It doesn't really fit you though."

Her contradictory words were a little confusing to him, and he looked at her in curiosity.

"How can they make me look handsome, and yet not suit me?" he asked her.

"It's... difficult to explain," she admitted as she looked away for a moment. "Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything. It's simply... it looks nice. It seem light and decent to fight in. Not primary for protection, but there's a freedom of movement to the design. There's a certain grace about it. I'm just not used to thinking about you in anything but armor that's all steel and clanking loudly. It doesn't suit what I remember of you."

"The fact that the design is Orlesian then?" he asked her.

"So's the dress I'm wearing," she admitted. "They put art to everything. There's nothing wrong with looking fancy, though I would never wear this into battle. At least that has some use to it. Why? Do you not like it?"

"I've gotten used to it," he admitted. "But no, I don't. Not especially. Truth be told, I find the idea of a uniform for an order that spends most of its time underground and fighting the Maker damned darkspawn to be a bit pointless. They insisted I have it though, and there are so many variations. I actually have three myself. One is just for official events or social engagements that I can't get out of."

"Lots of those?" she asked with a smile.

"More than I'm comfortable with," he answered. "That one I always keep clean. It's never seen battle. I also have one I wear when I know I'm going into battle or to the Deep Roads. It has stains that will not come off even with magic. Less of a hassle to worry about, and then there's this one. It's the middle ground one for everyday wear. Not too pristine, but I could meet a dignitary in it if I had to."

"Sounds complicated," she admitted.

"That's nothing. There are some Wardens there who have ten or so," Loghain snorted. "They're unbelievable at times."

"I'm sure you're happy to be here where things are a little more down to earth," she guessed.

"You have no idea."

Just then Gratna came back with two wine glasses and the bottle of their drink. She poured for them before leaving the bottle and with one last bow, left. Solona picked up her own glass and watched Loghain over the top. Her eyes followed as he took a sip of the liquid and smiled softly. Part of her had been worried that talking to him would have been harder than this. When she'd been trying to figure out just what he was to her she'd been able to have civil conversations with him, but after the incident in his bed she'd felt like such a child in comparison.

A large part had been terrified she'd still feel that way, that hiding behind the letters had been the only reason she could still talk to him. A relief washed over her when she realized that was not the case. She felt more like his equal now, speaking on an even level.

Solona prayed to the Maker for a brief second with the hopes he saw her as an equal too.

"So, how has the hunt for the monsters been going in Orlais?" she asked him as she spun the thin glass handle between her fingers as she kept a steady eye on him. "Well, I hope."

"Nothing nearly as exciting as what you've faced," he admitted. "The bands are getting smaller, and we've been tracking brood mothers and slaying them as fast as we could. It's a sick sight, and to know what the darkspawn do to those poor women. It's a good thing to know we are able to put them out of their misery."

"I remember the first time I learned what they were, back as Ostagar," she admitted. "It was... terrifying. I think I began to fight darkspawn even harder than before that. His Majesty once said there were never many women in the Wardens. Perhaps that is why."

"In Orlais, the female Wardens we have that begin to experience their Calling are given the option of a ceremonial suicide, rather than go to the Deep Roads and risk such a fate instead of just fighting to the death. Have you something similar here?" he asked her.

"So far, I haven't been faced with anyone experiencing it. The bright side of so many being freshly recruited. I'll have to make that an option though," she said before shuddering. This was not exactly a topic appropriate for what she'd had planned for him. Just why had brought up those things anyway? "Perhaps we should pick a better topic. After all, those creatures aren't meant for discussions over wine and lunch in the middle of the day."

"I agree," he said solemnly. "It's too dark a topic for now. Have you been to the Circle recently? I've heard they rebuilt wonderfully."

"They have," she replied with a smile. "It's been slow going and hard work, but rewarding. I was there recently actually. The templars and mages have been working hard to bring it back to its former glory, which I think is a good sign. There's been a lot of unrest in many of the Circles lately, mostly due to a lack of trust. The two sides are so parallel to one another, yet so many people on each side think the other is the enemy. It's where so many problems stem from. Corrupt templars that abuse their charges, and mages that turn to blood magic in order to free themselves. It's a horrible cycle, and it's not why the Circle was formed. I'm hoping with this example of the two sides helping each other, it will help smooth over tension."

"Is the tension bad then?" he asked her. He had never paid much attention to mages himself. He'd never had a reason to before meeting this woman.

"Yes and no," she said. "There are a lot of radical movements, people who believe we should break away from the Chantry entirely. It's mostly all discussion at this point, but there's already been two failed votes. Mages being shut down are feeling like their voices don't matter and it's making compromise difficult. There are so many that feel like slaves, and they want freedom."

"What about you?" he asked quietly. "Do you feel like a slave?"

"I... I don't know," she admitted. "I am a Grey Warden, and thus immune to many of the rules of the Circle's law. Without the title the Order provides me, I would never be able to hold land or a manor like this. I understand it's not really mine. It's something I inherited with the position of Commander. If I am removed and replaced, or if I die, it will go to the next in line for control. I don't actually own any of it. I'm allowed to go wherever I want however. I will never have to worry about Templars dragging me back, but I am and always will be a mage. I've seen the outside world and it made the Circle seem so small. I wasn't like other children who were brought in who could remember their life from before. I'm told that my magical capabilities showed themselves almost immediately after my birth, only a few months.

"I actually have three siblings, all of them born in the city Nathaniel was in, Kirkwall. I always knew my family was noble. They're mentioned in several history books covering a past Blight. I didn't know any specifics though, about my parents or siblings until I was able to go out and see the world with my own two eyes."

"You have siblings?" he asked with interest. "Where are they?"

"In different towers. Family contact is discouraged. I had an older sister. She would have been in her upper twenties by now, and she died in the Blight. I also have two brothers, a set of twins. They were both made Tranquil," she explained.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

She looked down at the table for a moment before shaking her head.

"I used to believe so much in my home, and the rules I was taught. I still lead my whole life by them," Solona stated. "There's a lack of freedom though I never knew existed until I left. The Ferelden Circle was one of the best. Once you're past your harrowing, you can travel with permission to just about anywhere so long as you have reason to. I thought it was like that everywhere, but there are Circles that I've heard pure nightmares about. It's something that desperately needs fixing, but it's not something the Chantry will allow."

She suddenly sighed and took a sip of her wine.

"Our conversations turn so dour so quickly," she said with a laugh, but to Loghain, it sounded forced. "Why do you think that is?"

"Probably because we lead very dour lives," he guessed.

"Then we should try harder to celebrate our good fortunes when given the chance," the mage informed him before downing her glass and pouring another for herself. "Top you off?"

He gave a throaty chuckle and nodded, holding his out for her to pour. He noticed her fingers trailed over the long neck of the bottle after she'd finished, setting it down on the table and playing idly with it. He was about to ask her if she was in thought about what they'd been talking about when their lunch came and the conversation was effectively killed for the moment.

They ate mostly in silence, the stew thick and hot going down his throat. It was a simple meal, but filling and warm. Much better than Orlesian dishes there were small servings with dribbles of sauce on the plate that barely filled anyone. He always had to eat again right after, but this was filling. There was certainly something to be said about comforting home cooked food.

"You must have been starving," she said once he had a third bowl. She'd had only two herself, surely more than she'd eaten before her Joining. "Do you need more? Perhaps another loaf of bread?"

"No, this was enough," he said, feeling satisfied. "Thank you. You've been a very good hostess so far."

"You have a few weeks here. Don't get too impressed too quickly," she said with a smirk. "You must be tired though. Would you like to rest?"

"Yes, I think sleep on an actual bed would be wonderful," he admitted. It was in the middle of the day, but he'd pushed himself hard to get back as soon as possible. A day just to relax would be welcome, even if he didn't need to sleep the whole time. Just laying down would be a welcome respite.

"I'll have a bath drawn for you before dinner, so you can relax your muscles a little and wash up," she informed him. "Let me show you where your room is."
He was actually familiar enough with the manor she could have just told him and he would have been able to find it himself, but she seemed to be taking her duties as seeing to him as a guest seriously. He couldn't help but note his quarters were right across from the master bedroom. Was that where she was sleeping? Surely she wouldn't take one of the smaller rooms. He almost asked, in case he needed to find her later but held back. Something prickled in the back of his mind that wouldn't be appropriate.

Which was utterly ridiculous. It was not as if there was anything wrong with wanting to know where he could find her if he needed to, and she probably would not even mind answering. He'd spent too much time amongst the Orlesians if he was getting so caught up on what was civil and polite amongst his own friend. Next thing he'd be insisting she have six different sets of forks and spoons set out for dinner if he was so used to such ridiculous levels of propriety. Clearly he needed to just lay down.

"Well, I will see you at dinner," he said. "We have some time to prepare for all the lavish things my daughter has planned. I'm sure it will be very busy."

"Yes, I'm sure it will," she said softly before she laid a hand on his arm, her fingers tracing gently against the scalemail sewn into his blue leather top. "Welcome home, Loghain."

She leaned in suddenly to press a kiss to his cheek and smiled a little before turning and walking away. He watched her leave, unable to keep himself from noticing the sway to her hips as she sauntered off. Had she always walked like that? Easy not to notice before when she'd been so skinny and small. He suddenly muttered a small curse for staring and went into his room, determined to get some sleep and ignore the warm feeling settled in his skin after she'd kissed him.

End of Chapter 2

Skinny little Solona Amell. She grew up. She filled out.

Pffft, okay now that I'm done quoting the Sin City film for my fanfiction (because Loghain as Hartigan does something to my feels) I hope this was enjoyable. I think I already know this is going to be a bit longer than five chapters, writing it now, because Loghain and Amell talking is just too much fun. I'd first intended her just to start flirting with him the second he hit the door when I envisioned this fic, but it's clearly not going that way. There's just too much for them to share, deep discussion to have, just to jump straight to smut.

Don't worry though. There will in fact be smut coming. Oh, there will be smut galore.

In any case, if you could be so kind as to review and share your thoughts. You will be loved forever.