Authors note: I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far ;)
He wonders if she will ever forgive him.
And it is only days later, when they have recovered from the battle, that he finally musters the courage to ask her why she does not hate him as she should.
He dislikes having to ask, feels it makes him look weak and unsure, very much unlike the hardened veteran he fought to be. Even more so dressed in the simple linen shirt and pants that would normally go beneath his armour. But as she stood there, a bright light in the grey stone of her room at the castle, he decides his desire to know outweighs his discomfort.
Her response to his question is to smile and lean against her oak bedframe, "I wondered if you would ask me. If you even cared to ask."
He gives a slight shrug, indicating that she should continue. She obliges, "Revenge…Hate. It's a sickness. If I let it in me, if I let what happened that night create hate inside me, then I would lose who I am. I hated Howe and I killed him. and if I had realised at ostagar that it had been your doing then I'd have hated you. but now that I've had my revenge, hate is bitter, like ashes in my mouth. I don't want it anymore. Then we started talking, I started to understand."
She shifts slightly, and he is suddenly very aware of her form, of the way the simple white dress clings to her skin, the sharp contrast of this paleness with the vibrant red hair that tumbles about her shoulders. He hadn't realised it before in his desperation to know the answer, but he had obviously caught her just before bed.
She lets out a sigh, "you didn't hate me. didn't even really know me. and I doubt you know who it was that Howe would slaughter. But I think you reasoned it, one family to have the army to fight the blight. That was not a high price to pay. You did the same at Ostagar, one king, some grey wardens, a few hundred soldiers, again not high prices to pay in order to have the strength to defend Ferelden"
To hear his own reasoning drop from her lips shocks him, so much so that he forgets to control his face and shows her his surprise. A glint of amusement in her eyes lets him know she saw it, and she answers his unspoken question, "I'm very good at reading people. As the daughter of a Teryn I had to be. I needed to know who was sincere and who was trying to use me, who was telling me truth and who was telling me what I wanted to hear. It was vital to learn such things. My father taught me tactics as a child, raising me to eventually take command of Highever in the event that Fergus fell."
He is able to regain control, making his expression blank once more, and merely nods his head once in acknowledgement.
She pushes away from the bed frame and walks towards him, her steps light and measured, the simple dress flowing about her as she did. she stops a few inches away, staring up at him with a strange kind of intensity in her gaze.
"You want my forgiveness?" she questions, "Why haven't you asked for it?"
It is shame he feels, shame at being read so easily, at his role in her life. He cannot meet her gaze and turns his head away, silently answering her question. the reason is simple, he doesn't feel like he deserves it. He doesn't deserve to be forgiven.
Suddenly her hand is on his cheek, gently turning him back to her, bringing his gaze back down to hers. He is older than her, but not so old as to be immune to the warmth and life in her eyes. and he has been cold for a very long time, ever since his wife had died.
"When I first met you Loghain, I admired you. You were everything the king should have been. When you betrayed us at Ostagar I wanted to hate you. But I saw what it was, ruthless tactics. And while the plans weren't spectacular knowing what we know now, I couldn't fault you for them. but I couldn't just leave it to you. I had to gather my own army. I had to make you understand that the only way to win was to unite Ferelden into one army, one force."
Her eyes burn brightly, and though he is the stronger by far he could not break her gaze. He is rendered mute by this light inside of her.
"When you came to warn us in Denerim I saw your surprise that it was I that had survived. And though you'd never have admitted it, there was regret there. I thought, at first, that I had simply imagined it. but you gave me Howe. You told me where he was."
She pauses to chuckle at the shock he no longer bothers to hide. It is strange, inside that gaze all that he is, is laid bare.
"Perhaps not consciously. But you did make sure to tell me which estate he was running, and anyone with five silver can find any building here. You bellowed at me, called me impertinent for speaking out. But you respected me then."
He could not find fault with her words. Instead he was pulled along, driven to hear the point she was reaching.
"When we stood before the landsmeet I was reminded of how strong you were, of why I had admired you. You had thought to shoulder all the lands burdens alone. And when we fought you gave me honour by not holding back, by not treating me like some fragile daughter of a teryn who had only survived because she had others to do her fighting.
She swayed closer, her fingers flexing against his face.
"Do you remember how you looked at me after our battle? you were so shocked as I helped you up. I knew then that you hadn't hated me, it had nothing to do with me all this time. it had been about Ferelden, about keeping it safe. I couldn't let Alistair kill you after that."
Her voice turned soft, "then I got to know you Loghain. I listened to you speak and I watched you listen. And then you did the ritual with Morrigan, even though I know you didn't want to. Tell me why Loghain."
His answer is shocked and sharp, "I'm sure you already know why."
But she doesn't seem taken aback by his tone, instead the side of her mouth tugs upwards in a half smile, "Yes I do. but I want to hear you say it."
He let out a long breath, "because I…I owed you a life."
She sighs, but it isn't a mournful sound, "then why take that blow on top of Fort Drakon, you knew I would survive. Why risk it?"
He gives the only answer he can, compelled to speak the truth to those burning eyes, "because it would have been a bad time to be wrong."
Vanilla slides across his senses, her innate scent lingering in the air. the crimson of her hair caresses the sides of her face, pale skin framing those oh so expressive eyes. she lowers her hand and suddenly she is hugging him, her form carefully resting against his. It seems instinctive to lift his arms and wrap them around her. and when he does it seems right, as if she fit perfectly into that space. But all of those thoughts are blown out of his mind when she raises her head and captures him with her gaze once more, "I forgive you Loghain."
With her simple soft words, a weight he had borne since learning the Cousland fate lightened. He does not know how to thank her, no words will form the depth of his gratitude. But without even a sound from him she smiles a wicked smile, "You're trying to think up how to thank me…aren't you?"
She pulls back to better see his face, after a moment he nods once and her grin widens slightly, "Well you could always kiss me again. That seemed to work last time."
He is stunned, and for a moment he does not move. Her face turns shy and she pulls away lowering her head and breaking his gaze, "I mean…if you wanted to."