Chapter 5 - Taking Charge

When the familiar silhouette of Vigil's Keep finally appeared on the horizon, Morena almost sagged with relief. Maker, she detested the Deep Roads, the darkness and the stench and the constant threat of darkspawn. But most of all she hated to be reminded she would one day have to return there, never to leave again. The final sacrifice every Warden had to make.

It was good to be out in the open again, good to be on the way home. Looking around at her companions, she realized they all felt much the same. A tiny smile was playing around Anders' lips as he returned her gaze, and even Nathaniel looked slightly less grumpy than usual. Only Sigrun seemed uncomfortable under the open sky, but that was to be expected. After all, she had grown up in Orzammar, and as a member of the Legion of the Dead, she wouldn't have expected ever to see daylight again. Still, Morena was glad they had rescued her, and Sigrun had agreed to join them. The perky dwarf was an able fighter and a constant source of good cheer and optimism, despite her insistence she was already dead. Morena could do with someone like her around the place, someone who didn't need constant encouragement and support to function.

On the whole, the trip to Kal'Hirol had been a success, she mused as they were approaching the Keep's gates. They had taken out several broodmothers, defeated another one of the dangerous talking darkspawn and found some amazing runes and armour. Once again her Wardens had proven their worth against foes that were the stuff of nightmares. Anders in particular had saved all their lives more than once, but Nathaniel's bow had been invaluable as well, sending arrow after arrow at the darkspawn with deadly precision.

Morena had hoped to have a few hours all to herself when they got back, but apparently it was not to be. As soon as they had passed the threshold, Mistress Woolsey began nagging her about some problems with the Keep's accounts. Ser Garevel wanted her advice on how to deal with the bandits plaguing the trade routes between Amaranthine and Denerim. And just as she was ready to finally retire to her quarters, Seneschal Varel informed her it was court day and he needed her to decide several cases.

With a sigh, she followed him to the throne room. The first case was a shepherd who had stolen food from the Crown. Varel suggested having him hanged, and Morena was inclined to agree, if only to get the procedure over with as soon as possible. But then she took a closer look at the young man. He seemed strong and able, and there was a fire in his eyes, which made her pause.

"Let him join the army instead," she pronounced her sentence. "He seems to be a man of action. Let him direct his energies against the darkspawn."

She didn't miss the dark expression on the young man's features as the guards led him out of the room. He would have to leave his family behind, and fighting against the darkspawn might very well turn out to be a death sentence after all. She shrugged. He should be grateful. At least he has a chance now.

Quickly, she dealt with the rest of the cases. She sentenced a deserting soldier to death without so much as a second thought, ignoring the young woman's impassioned pleas. Morena had no patience with deserters. If everyone started leaving their posts to run home to their families, soon there would be nothing to defend. The last case, a land dispute, she left to Varel.

Turning to mount the stairs, she encountered Oghren, drunk as usual and full of complaints about the quality of the ale in the cellar. She cut him off with a terse rebuke. Honestly, was no one in this place able to solve their own problems?

Her mood improved a little as soon as the door closed behind her. Her room was cosy and warm, a fire burning merrily in the fireplace, a tray of food arranged on the table next to it. Walking over to her desk, she scanned the pile of papers covering it, until a courier's packet tied with silk cord caught her attention. Loghain's reports from Orlais.

He had been thorough, as usual, and she put aside the thick wad of paper containing his official memorandum. It could wait till tomorrow. But there was a personal message as well, marked with her name instead of her title, and she opened it with a small smile on her face. She hadn't expected him to write to her when he'd left. Loghain wasn't much of a talker, but apparently he found it easier to communicate by letter. She enjoyed his terse, precise style and had been surprised to find she was looking forward to his messages.

Morena,

No endearments, but the use of her first name made it more than clear this was no formal correspondence.

Another month gone by. Thank you for your letter, and for the map. It's a wonderful example of craftsmanship as well as an important reminder of past sufferings and misfortunes.

Morena had sent him a map of Ferelden during the time of the Orlesian occupation. She had found it among the many treasures she'd collected on her travels. Remembering his fondness for old maps, she had immediately realized it would be the perfect gift for him.

Not that the Orlesian Wardens are likely to let me forget the past anyway. To them, I'm not a fellow Warden. I'm the Fereldan butcher, the slayer of chevaliers, the walking, talking symbol of their defeat. They seem determined to take out all their frustration on me, coming up with new petty insults and provocations every day. I'm not about to let them needle me into doing something stupid, though.

Morena's face darkened. She knew this kind of thing bothered him more than he let on. Part of why he was attracted to her was that she'd always treated him like any other man, with the respect he deserved but without any undue reverence. He hated being reduced to his heroic past. Even here, in Ferelden, where people recalled his deeds with awe and gratitude, he'd rather not be recognized as the Hero of the River Dane, treated as some sort of living legend. It had to be worse amongst his ancient enemies.

But as she read on, her frown turned into a smile.

They couldn't even give me a properly trained warhorse. Said it would be wasted on a Fereldan dog lord. Instead I'm stuck with a young mare that no one else wanted. Actually, she rather reminds me of you. She's beautiful as sin, full of fire and as spirited as they get. Moody and unpredictable, and she will bite if I'm not careful. But she likes the smell of my leathers and I'm certain I can tame her eventually.

Morena grinned at the implied insolence. "Don't be too sure, Loghain MacTir," she muttered. "Not every female is so easily tamed."

Yet at the same time his words were stoking the fires of her imagination. So he was thinking of her, there in Montsimmard, remembering her fondness for leather, the way she would bite his shoulder in the throes of passion... He was thinking about her, just like she was thinking about him. She imagined him, alone on his bed in his quarters, lonely and horny, caught up in a memory of their nights together, and her breath caught in her throat at the image.

True, her own bed was not quite as cold as his. Anders made sure of that. But Anders, much as she loved him, couldn't give her what she craved right now, what Loghain had done for her. Oh, the mage adored her, perhaps more than any other person on Thedas, and he accepted her unconditionally. He'd do anything she asked of him. But Anders would always be a burden, a liability. Like everyone else, he relied on her to put things right.

Loghain, on the other hand... She missed him. Missed his determination, his firmness. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he wasn't shy about taking it. No amount of wheedling or seducing would make him change his mind if he didn't want to. She could force him, fight him, but he'd always take charge if she let him.

Just like he did when they made love... Morena shivered, and the letter dropped from her hands as she sank back on the bed and closed her eyes. Rolling onto her stomach, she reached between her legs to touch her heated core, burying her face into the pillow as if to recapture his scent there.

Loghain, kissing her hard, his lips demanding and forceful. His powerful body, pinning her to the mattress, as he moved above her, unexpectedly graceful despite his size. His weight on her body, almost squeezing the air out of her lungs as he took her from behind, his hot torso pressed against her back, his hips rolling against her until she was whimpering, begging him to go on forever, to never stop.

Her fingers moved in soft circles, but it was the images in her mind that made her moan, made her writhe against the covers and shiver all over. Loghain's rough hands on her body, his hoarse voice whispering in her ear, his lips and tongue on her skin, tasting her, devouring her, making her his. She almost screamed his name as she came, shuddering, trembling, full of longing for him.

For a long moment she lay there on the bed, trying to catch her breath, to find her balance again. Oh yes, she missed him. More than she'd ever expected to.

Reaching for the discarded letter, she quickly read the last paragraph.

Sixteen months until I'll be back, Morena. What you wrote about your last assignment sounded dangerous, or should I say reckless? Take care and try not to get killed. I'm counting on you to welcome me home to Ferelden.
Loghain

No tender words, no mention of love. And yet, it was easy to read between the lines that he cared. For a moment, she closed her eyes and raised the letter to her lips, still lost in her fantasy. But then she shook herself and rose to put it away. Dreams were all well and good, but the present demanded her attention.

As if on cue, there was a knock on her door. She checked her appearance in the mirror and straightened out her robes before she opened it, schooling her features to be calm and serene.

"Yes, Nathaniel? Anything I can do for you?"

Hugs and thanks to zevgirl for another awesome beta job!