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As they cut through the black waters of Gwaren’s harbor, the only sound was the creaking of oars at work and their wake clapping against the wooden hulls of other boats tied up for the night. There was almost no wind to speak of, the harbor had the stale aroma of low-tide, of decaying fish and stale waters. It was enough to turn any traveler away, but this was not an ordinary traveler.
It was no surprise the city slept at this time of night, he thought as he looked out at the only lights still aglow. He’d expected all of them. The lighthouse, at the far edge of the harbor, it’s slow beam flashing every so often; those of taverns and brothels whose patrons would be at last beginning their stumbling journeys home; and then the was the single lantern at the end of the dock, lit just enough to guide them the small boat to its destination.
The crewman reached up to grab hold of the dock at the same time the lantern-holding man reached a hand down toward the passenger. They clasped each other at the forearm, and with one strong heft, he pulled the passenger up to the dock.
“You were right, they’re here,” the lantern-holder said as he covered the light, directing it downward.
From deep within the hood of his cloak, Loghain sighed. The sigh could have been mistaken for irritation at the man’s words, but it wasn’t. He’d expected Grey Wardens to come here. Here, to this far reach of Ferelden he’d once called home.
But no, his sigh was something different altogether. It surprised even him that it was one of relief at having returned at last.
He dropped his head back to gaze up at the night sky and took a deep breath in through his nose. It had been years since he’d set foot in Gwaren. Loghain was uncertain of when he’d grown so fond of it.
But the moment was short-lived as the man started down the dock.
“How many?” Loghain asked. There was no moon tonight, so Loghain kept close. The man, Gene, had been his steward for decades. There was no better choice as steward of the teyrnir. He’d kept it running smooth as could be after–
Loghain’s swallow was loud in his ears. Celia was hard for anyone to follow, but Gene had done an admirable job. Gwaren was in his blood just as it had been in hers.
“Four in the village. Orlesians.” The man sniffed disdainfully. Orlesians were not well remembered around these parts. He waited a beat before adding, “Plus one more.”
One more? Loghain cocked his head. “Alone?”
Gene was silent another beat, and Loghain thought he might be nodding, though it was impossible to see in this darkness. “Showed up day before last. Seems to be avoiding the others.” Another beat. “Lot like you.”
Loghain let out a small huff of amusement. Gene was, above all else, loyal to Gwaren, and with that to Ferelden, but he also had a strong mistrust of the Grey Wardens. Many in this forgotten corner of Thedas did. They’d never quite forgiven Maric for inviting them back into Ferelden.
Nothing good ever came of Grey Wardens.
The irony of his current predicament was not lost on him. Another deep breath, and Loghain asked, “He’s still here?”
Gene let out a noncommittal grunt. “At the keep.”
Loghain cast a glance his direction. “Why?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Gene's voice gave nothing away. Loghain wished he could see the man’s face.
Loghain frowned and started mulling over who it could be–one of those Orlesian hunters perhaps–though not for long. Gene turned off the main road onto a rocky path that cut up to the keep. It was a shortcut that received little use, due to its perilous nature. It was precarious at the best of times, but in the dead of the night with no moon?
“Few of ‘em blocked off the road ahead,” Gene answered Loghain’s unasked question.
By the time they completed the ascent, night had faded into dayspring. The walls of Gwaren’s keep rose in front of him. Gene had already pulled open the door tucked behind some spiny overgrowth, but Loghain paused, and turned back to look over the city.
Her residents hurried around, going about their morning business. At the dock, ships were loaded and unloaded, but the one he’d come in on was nowhere to be seen. Loghain’s next sigh was one of relief of having made it this far. Now to rest and then he’d figure out his next move.
***
After a few hours’ rest, a bath, and a shave, Loghain could almost consider himself a new man. He walked through sun-drenched halls, reveling in the quiet of the keep. Its halls had teemed with life when Celia was alive, but it had been more years than he was willing to count since her death.
Gwaren had never been the same. It was a teyrnir at the edge of the world, he’d often thought, but he had hoped, for a time, that it could be more for him. At some point, it had. Somehow, it’d become a place of refuge and safety since that fateful duel a decade now past.
But Loghain didn’t think of those days often. There was no point dwelling on what was and what could have been.
At the door to his office, he paused. He’d not seen Gene since he awoke and there was still the matter of the other Grey Warden. If it were someone of concern, Gene would have given Loghain more of a warning. This Warden then…
Loghain pushed open the door.
She stood at the window, looking out at the small harbor as Loghain himself often did. Sunlight caught the edges of her face just so, and Loghain stilled. It had been…years. He’d not seen her since after the defeat of the Archdemon when she’d unceremoniously delivered him to the Wardens in Orlais.
The hardness in her eyes that day was something that Loghain would not ever forget. He could not.
“Lady Cousland.” His voice was still filled with gravel from sleep, grating to his ears. Loghain cringed at the sound, swallowing to cover it.
The years had been kind to her, though there was little trace of her youth left. Edges replaced formerly soft features on her face, but they suited her. His eyes trailed down to her lips, and they pursed ever so slightly as her head tipped a fraction to the side. “Lady Cousland was my mother. Warden Elissa will do just fine.”
“Why are you at Gwaren?”
The corner of Elissa’s mouth ticked up. The smile seemed almost mischievous. What was she up to? “The queen offered me use whenever I may need,” she said.
“And what use is that?”
Her lips pulled back as the smile spread across her face, lines appearing at the corner of her eyes. Loghain was struck by their brightness when she smiled. Not just her eyes, but her entire face shone like the summer sun and she seemed lighter. Had he ever seen her do that before, all those years ago?
No. There was no reason to smile during the Blight, even when it was all said and done. His last image of her was not one he oft dwelled on.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, pulling him away from his runaway thoughts.
“I beg your pardon?” Loghain’s eyes met hers. The smile had disappeared, replaced by a deep indent between her brows.
“I said that I need information and hope you could help, and you simply stared as though Sten stole your cookie.” She held his gaze.
“My apologies. I was lost in my thoughts.” That slight indent of her brows softened as he nodded. “Sten still steals cookies then?”
Elissa let out a snort. Gentle, but it was a snort. “I wouldn’t go around accusing the Arishok of being a cookie thief if I were you.”
It was comfortable and easy. He knew he should be wary of her, after all they’d been through, but he liked the ease of their conversation and her many smiles he’d never seen. He hoped she might stick around, for more conversation and smiles, but she was here for information.
Loghain gestured her toward his desk.
There was a warmth on the air as she passed. Marigolds. Loghain lingered, reveling in it, waiting for her to take her seat. She did, resting her hands in her lap and lifting her chin as she turned her face towards him ever so slightly.
Anticipation hung thick between them. Loghain walked to the window and looked out at the city beyond, out toward the sea. The day seemed perfect, but the weather on the coast was unpredictable. One never knew what might develop.
He took a slow breath and turned, leaning back against the sill. “What information?”
Elissa’s head tilted just a hair further and let a silence linger between them. She held his gaze, unflinching. She’d always been confident. Loghain was relieved to know at least that had not changed.
She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it before saying anything. Her tongue darted out and then she rubbed them together. Another breath, before she finally said, “Do you hear it?”
He didn’t need clarification to know she meant that itch at the back of his mind. That eerie melody that gave him no peace. “All the time.”
“So do I. It brings me relief to know I am not the only one.” Her shoulders relaxed as she blew out a long breath.
Loghain huffed, biting back the laughter. She had no idea, did she?
“I’d heard…” Elissa started, but trailed off, her lips once more pressed firmly together.
Loghain gave her several beats, but she didn’t continue. He prompted, “You heard what?”
A smile appeared once more. It was small, but it was there. “That you, Warden, are as rebellious as ever.”
Rebellious? He supposed he was. That was how he ended up here after all in the waning of his life, playing mouse and cat as a renegade Warden, when he should have been enjoying the spoils. “And what of it?”
The abruptness with which she stood surprised Loghain, his hand reached toward the knife at his waist without thought. Her eyes darted down, then back up and she lifted a hand, her palm facing his. “I am here for me, not the Wardens.”
“Then what is it that you want, Elissa?” He’d meant to call her Warden, but the last word slipped out before he could stop himself.
She held his gaze, and then the lines appeared at the corners of her eyes once more. “What I want…” she paused, the ghost of a smile appearing on her lips and a light–a hope–in her eyes, “is to live.”
***
The Calling terrified her, as it did many a Grey Warden. He wasn’t prepared to admit it had terrified him too, that it had come so soon. Loghain had a vantage though, surrounded by other Wardens. He’d known something she hadn’t. They’d all heard it, all at once, no matter the years since each Wardens’ Joining.
It was impossible, but many of his fellow Wardens disagreed. All of them, in fact.
The sun had sunk low in the sky when Gene reappeared with a meal. They took it together, hunched over hand drawn maps and notes he’d gathered in his search, spread across his desk. Hawke knew, and they’d exchanged plenty of letters delving into the specifics of how Corypheus may be involved, but sharing with another Warden lifted the burden from his shoulders he hadn’t even known he carried.
For the first time in a decade, someone listened. And even more remarkable, listened to him.
Loghain stole a glance her direction. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth as she read one of the letters. He allowed himself a moment to study her face. The angle of her jaw where it met her neck. The slight curve of her nose. The old scar that peeked out from her hairline, though it was new to him.
Who was she now? Whenever he’d thought of her over the years, she’d been the angry young Cousland who’d done what she had to do to save Ferelden, but this Elissa…she was nothing like he remembered.
A lock of her hair had escaped from the twist at the back of her neck, and it lingered at the edge of her face. Loghain watched it take flight as she blew in it’s direction, and then her fingers tucked it behind her ear.
Her eyes met his. He averted his gaze quickly, excuses ready at the tip of his tongue, but she said nothing.
He risked another glance in her direction. Her eyes were still on him, and she smiled. Loghain cleared his throat, “You really think Hawke could help?”
Her shrug was meant to look half-hearted, but Loghain had already learned her disaffected air was a cover. This was important to her. “Perhaps. He knows people.”
“People?”
“Other Wardens. Rebellious ones,” she teased, a smile at the corners of her mouth.
Loghain lifted his eyebrows. “And here I had started to hope I was special.” Her smile slipped. Loghain could kick himself for bringing down the mood. He’d meant it in good fun, but had missed the mark. He forced a smile. “A mere joke, Warden. I’m aware I’m not special.”
“It’s only–” she herself cut off with a sigh.
“Say no more.” He looked back down at the documents spread out in front of them. It had been a fleeting hope that she’d managed to crush with one involuntary reaction. He felt foolish, that he’d allowed himself to hope. But hope for what? Friendship? Companionship? An end to his loneliness? Loghain himself didn’t even know.
That afternoon, she’d treated him as a friend, but he was a means to an end. No more.
“Loghain, I–” A loud knock on the door interrupted her. Both of their heads shot up to look at it as it cracked open.
Gene’s face appeared in the gap. “Wardens on the way. First marker.”
No more than fifteen minutes before they were at the keep’s door if they were already at the first marker on the path up. Loghain glanced at Elissa. Her eyes were wide, her lips thin and her jaw was firmly set. Bad news for both of them it seemed.
“Can you hold them off?” Gene shook his head. Loghain blew out a puff of air and started gathering the documents strewn across the desk. Elissa grabbed the map and started rolling it. He asked, “Are you ready?”
“Always,” came her swift reply.
“My pack and the lady’s,” Loghain told Gene. The man nodded and his face disappeared back through the door before he closed it behind him.
They worked in silence, stowing everything spread across the desk back into Loghain’s satchel. It took no more than a few minutes before they were moving toward the depths of the keep. Loghain had been looking forward to a full night’s sleep in a real bed, but it wasn’t meant to be.
“I suppose you have a plan?” Elissa asked from behind him. His steps were long, but she’d managed to keep up with him admirably despite her smaller stature.
Loghain shook his head. “No more than the escape.”
When Celia had rebuilt the keep, he’d made sure to have the passage put in. He’d never be trapped by Orlesians again if he had any say about it, though the irony at becoming an Orlesian Warden was not lost on him. Unlike the short cut to the village, this passage dumped out in a nearby village, not far from the edge of the Brecilian forest.
Gene stood near the passage entrance, their packs on the floor in front of him. In his hands was a small cloth bag. “For the journey,” Gene offered, holding it toward them. Loghain accepted the offering. The scent of fresh baked bread reached his nose. At least they’d have another good meal tonight.
He grabbed his pack. Elissa already had hers and was being ushered into the passage behind where an old cabinet had been pulled back. Loghain followed her, pausing at the threshold to tell Gene, “Be safe, my friend.”
Gene nodded and offered a small smile. “Maker direct you.” Then he began to push the cabinet over the opening behind them.
***
They’d put as much distance between themselves and Gwaren as they could, traveling under the cover of darkness until they were too tired to go any further. They continued on that way for days, making good progress through the Brecilian passage. They clung to the edges of the road, expecting pursuit from the Wardens, but they never came.
As they traveled, they talked. Though Loghain preferred to travel alone, he had to admit that he was happy to have the company for once. The life of a Grey Warden could be lonely, but with Elissa at his side, it was less so. It had been years since he’d had a companion on his travels. He’d not expected to find one since he’d been branded a traitor to the order.
Even so, they were his brethren. He’d made promises to them and now he’d do what he could to stop them from making a colossal mistake.
It was their last night in the Brecilian passage before they’d skirt along the edge of the forest then head west, toward Ostagar. Hawke’s last missive indicated he’d be meeting with the new Inquisitor in the Frostback Mountains. With any luck, he’d have more on Corypheus soon.
They made camp early, while it was still light. They’d provisioned themselves in a village the day before, and Loghain prepared a modest feast for the two of them. He’d honed his cooking skills over the years and had happily cooked the nights they’d had the time.
It had been a good day, one of the better. Elissa sat in front of the campfire, waxing her bowstrings. In the firelight, her face had softened, reminding him of the young woman he’d once known. It hadn’t been long that they’d traveled together during the Blight, but even then he’d been struck by her strength. After all she’d been through…
“Is there something you want to know,” she asked without looking up from her work, “or are you simply admiring the view?”
He let out a light huff. There was much he wanted to know, but none that he was owed. The questions–about her life these last ten years, whether she still hated him–they were best left unasked. Instead, he asked, “How is Anora?”
She glanced up. “You don’t know?”
“Know about what?” he asked, quicker and more forceful than he’d intended.
“What?” Her eyebrows drew together for a brief moment, and then her eyes popped wide. “Oh! No, there’s nothing… I merely meant that, you mean, you haven’t heard from her yourself?”
“Not in months. It’s not…” Loghain sighed. “The Wardens consider me a traitor. I would not risk her for my vanity.”
She regarded him, eyebrows pulling together as she tilted her head. He wondered what she was thinking as she gazed at him, firelight dancing in her eyes. “She is well,” she told him. “Happy. A good queen.”
Emotion welled in him, unexpected and sudden. Elissa continued to study him from across the fire, her fingers working the piece of leather over the strings. He swallowed, the sound loud in his ears, and broke eye contact.
“You should write to her,” Elissa said. “She’d welcome it.”
Loghain nodded, not yet ready to speak. He’d do that. It had been too long. He’d heard bits about her, it was hard not to hear about the queen, but it would not ever be the same as knowing first hand. Elissa and Anora…they had been friends when they were younger. It was a comfort to know they still were, by the sounds of it, despite what had happened during the Blight.
They’d all made choices they weren’t proud of. Some of them more damaging than others.
He sat quietly, listening to the crackling of the fire. Elissa packed her strings away, then sat quietly too. After a time, she took in a breath and he expected her to speak, but she didn’t. Out of the side of his eye, he saw her straighten her back and fold her hands in her lap. After what seemed an age, she spoke. “May I ask you a question?”
He lifted his eyes to hers. “Ask away.”
“Could you ever forgive me for what I did?” Now it was Loghain’s turn to be confused. What did she do that required forgiveness? The possibilities ran through his mind, quicker than he could grasp. Had she told the Wardens his location? Had it been a set up all along? The confusion must have been evident on his face, because she offered, “For forcing you to become a Warden.”
For forcing him to… “During the Blight?” She nodded. Loghain did not mean a chuckle as his response, but a small one slipped out. “There’s nothing to forgive. Why? Do you regret allowing me to live?”
“No.” Her response was swift and vehement. “But I did not consider what you–”
“You did what you had to do. There is no shame in that.”
She regarded him for a brief moment, before pushing to her feet. “Of course. Would you excuse me?” Without a word, she disappeared out of the firelight into the dark woods beyond.
***
Loghain stared at the place the darkness had swallowed her. Until tonight, their conversation had been easy and natural and now… He stood, pulled out his bedroll and laid it out next to the fire. He’d apologize when she returned. He’d not meant to upset her, but it was clear there was more to her question than he understood.
He stooped to grab another piece of wood and added it to the fire. He took his time prodding it into the burning embers, making sure it caught, when he heard her return. Tension released from where he’d been holding it between his shoulders. “I’ll take the first watch–” he started as he stood and turned to face her.
She’d stop close to him, closer than he’d expected. She was close enough that he could make out the dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose, even by the light of the fire. He could smell her, that scent of warm Ferelden sunshine.
And her eyes…there was a look in them that made Loghain’s breath catch.
She closed her eyes, took a breath and said, “I did it because I wanted you, even then. And maybe I shouldn’t admit this, but it was a selfish choice, to make you a Warden.” She swallowed, the motion drawing his attention. “You must have known.”
“I…” He couldn’t think of the words as he mind sprinted too fast to catch. Must have known. What should he have known? How could he have?
“Tell me you don’t want this.” She took a step toward him and reached out a hand, laying her palm flat against his chest. His heart raced beneath her palm and he wondered whether or not she could feel it. He shook his head, sucking in a breath as she ran her fingers up and wrapped them around the back of his neck at the delightful tingle that trickled down his spine. “Tell me you don’t want me.”
Gently, and slowly, so slowly he hardly noticed he was moving, she pulled his face down toward hers.
“No,” he murmured.
“No?” Her lips were close, close enough that they shared the same air with each breath.
Every little moment he’d allowed himself to hope… Every time he’d thought there was a glimmer of something more… They all came down to this. “I am not a liar,” his voice was little more than a whisper. He felt more than saw the smile, and she closed the distance that remained between them.
It had been too long since Loghain had the pleasure of another’s lips on his. Hers were softer than he thought possible, though she kissed him with purpose, stealing the air from his lungs and leaving them both gasping for more when they at last broke apart. Loghain stroked his fingers down the side of her cheek and leaned his forehead against hers. “Elissa…”
She brought her lips to his once more, kissing him again more urgently than before. They stumbled toward his bedroll, her hands tugging at the edge of his shirt, pulling it up over his head. He reached for hers, but before he could make any headway, she pressed him down onto his back and straddled him.
He reached once more for her shirt, but she swatted at his hand, with a coy smile. “Wait.”
Loghain settled his hands on her hips, determined to wait patiently. She ran her fingers over the scar cross-crossing his bare chest. She leaned over him and pressed a kiss to the hollow at the base of his neck, rolling her hips against him as she did. He groaned at the sensation that pulsed through his body as his fingers tightened against the fabric of her leggings.
When she didn’t move again, he opened his eyes. She hovered over him–half in shadow, half lit by the warm light of the fire. She smiled and lightly dragged her nails down his chest and over his abdomen. Loghain sucked in a breath, the sensation of each scrape almost too much for him. She ran her hands up over her thighs, to the hem of her tunic, and then slowly, maddeningly slowly, pulled it over her head. Loghain gave up on waiting and slid his hands up her sides, over the scars marking her soft skin.
She bent to kiss him once more, this time slower, taking her time to explore his mouth with hers. They stayed that way for some time, occasionally breaking apart to kiss along a jawline or nip at the other’s collarbone as their hands explored each other's bodies. Loghain wanted more, he needed more–it had been longer than he’d care to admit since he’d been another–but Elissa seemed content to keep the pace slow. A frustrated noise escaped as she revisited a stretch of sensitive skin at the edge of his jawline.
“No need to rush,” she teased. “You and I both know we have all night.”
He ran his hands up her back, tangling his fingers in her hair. “Is that a challenge?”
“Mmmhmm.” Her eyes danced as she leaned back over him, running the tip of her tongue along the outer edge of his ear.
“Then I accept.” Loghain wrapped a leg around hers and in one swift movement, flipped them. It wasn’t as smooth as he’d have liked, but it was effective. Elissa giggled and they both eased themselves into more comfortable positions. “Now,” he mused aloud, raking his eyes over her body. “Where to start?”
The edge of her mouth ticked upward. Then she oh so slowly dragged a finger up the center of her body. When she stopped, she lifted an eyebrow.
Loghain obliged her. After all, they had all night.
***
They stood hand-in-hand in the middle of the road, where it diverged between his destination and hers. Loghain had always known this day would come, and he’d been dreading it as each mile brought them closer. Elissa eased her pack down to the ground in front of her before she tilted her face up toward his. The words tore at his lips, desperate to be let out, but Loghain bit his tongue. She’d been clear that her search for a cure was more important than anything else, just as he’d been clear that his investigation was.
“We don’t have to say goodbye.” She swallowed as she stepped toward him. “You could come with me.”
A tempting offer, but one he couldn’t take. He had his duty and he would not forsake it, not for anyone. He shook his head, squeezing her hand as he said, “Forgive me, I cannot.”
She smiled, tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. “I would have regretted not asking.”
Loghain stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her as she melted him against him. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her for what he hoped would not be the last time. His chest was heavy, each breath a burden, and he blinked back the tears of his own that threatened at the back of his eyes.
They stayed there, for a time, clinging to each other. As though if they wished for it enough, it didn’t have to be this way. At last, she stirred. Lifting her chin, her lips against his neck, she whispered, “Stay safe, Loghain.”
“And you, Elissa.” He kissed the top of her head, then pulled back. “Until we meet again.”