[OPEN] and anyway, I told the truth

[mactears]

WHO: Loghain Mac Tir, Alistair Theirin + OPEN
WHAT: Loghain settles into life in Kirkwall.
WHEN: Throughout early September, and right after Loghain and Alistair's sending crystal conversation.
WHERE: The stables; the Gallows library at night, the dining hall.
NOTES: The thread between Loghain and Alistair is open to everyone! Feel free to witness and contribute to what goes down. Aside from the first prompt, you can assume that the others happen on multiple different occasions throughout the month.

I. THE STABLES (ALISTAIR)


He reaches the stables towards the end of the day, with the last of the sun's warmth beginning to wane and some slight cloud cover rolling in from the west. It's cold, but his reception from Alistair is guaranteed to be downright frosty.

Loghain steps into the stables, and checks the impulse to detour past Sooty's stall. Best not to put this off. "Alistair?"



II. THE LIBRARY


Through trial and error, Loghain has determined that the best time to make use of the Inquisitions' research facilities is in the dead of night, for what normal person would choose to sit at a desk and squint at centuries' old books by candlelight? Doing this means it's a bit slower going for him to track down what he needs, but it at least also means that there are no scowling faces nearby to draw his focus away from his work.

There are, regretfully, few resources at his disposal here for research into red lyrium or Corypheus's history, but what few books and papers he has been able to dig up are currently spread out before him on a library table. Rather than sitting at a chair to work, Loghain instead paces slowly behind it, alternating between sipping from a cooling mug of black tea, leaning over to make pencil notations on a map, and flipping through pages of notes, searching for connections.

It's possible he's been at this for a few hours.



III. THE DINING HALL


In general, he prefers to take his meals in private, but suspects that over the long run, this will only make his situation in Kirkwall more difficult, and make the untenable aspects of it persist for even longer. So while he continues his routine of having breakfast alone, he makes it a point to join the rest of the Inquisition's personnel in one of the dining halls each day for both lunch and dinner. So far, most people have left him alone.

He's seated at one of those long tables now, idly stirring a spoon in a bowl of stew until it cools. The other hand holds open the pages of a book, which he reads from in silence.



IV. THE STABLES--ON A DIFFERENT DAY


The stables undoubtedly have grooms and stablehands to see to this sort of work, but Loghain has spent the last several months trekking across Thedas with only his horse for company. It still seems odd to leave her care in the hands of strangers.

Dressed in clothes he doesn't mind getting a bit dirty, he is at work in Sooty's stall brushing her coat down after an invigorating run through the surrounding, stark hills. He talks to her quietly under his breath as he does so, smiling, and feeds her bits of vegetable out of a pouch on his belt every so often.

Comments

[doneisdone]

Teren nods once in acknowledgment, her demeanor relaxed enough that it's clear she accepts what he's told her. "As does the lot of ours," she sighs, squinting irritably off to one side. "Whether or not we like how it finishes."
She can't really hold it against him that he's untrustworthy and doesn't want to be here. It's a feeling she knows all too well.

[mactears]

It's an opportunity to shift the subject a little way's away from how little the rest of the Wardens--indeed, much of the Inquisition--mistrusts him, and towards their enemy. Loghain takes it.

"How do you anticipate this ending, for all of us?" he asks her seriously; he knows very little of this mysterious Nevarran Warden, but what little he has glimpsed so far suggests to him that her perceptive insight into matters might be the edge they need.

[doneisdone]

Teren abruptly looks uncomfortable-- not only does she know at least one answer to this, she's seen it. But she's kept that mainly to herself, finding it too difficult to engage with it by acknowledging its reality.

"...if we cock it up, badly." That's vague enough. "Red lyrium growing out of everything and everyone. We'll all be useless or thralls or ghouls. ...I imagine." Nice save.
"If we want Corypheus to stay out of our heads, we'll need to find and deal with him sooner or later. He's a right tosser, but at least he's no archdemon."

[mactears]

"...if we cock it up, badly. Red lyrium growing out of everything and everyone. We'll all be useless or thralls or ghouls. ...I imagine. If we want Corypheus to stay out of our heads, we'll need to find and deal with him sooner or later. He's a right tosser, but at least he's no archdemon."

Alive, and corrupted, and good for no one at all. The thought becomes a knot of dread in his gut, and he chooses not to consider how Teren can predict this future.

"...in that case," he replies, perhaps a few weighted moments later than necessary, "I should continue my research, in hopes of identifying some means of protecting us from further corruption." He looks back to his work again; it's not a dismissal, for he welcomes her company, but he doesn't do well with too much talk for too long.

[doneisdone]

Whatever fears she may have had for the Order's well-being, they've been mitigated. Not eliminated, not entirely, but Teren knows a waste of time when she sees one, and paying so much attention to this man's comings and goings fits the bill.
"That you should," she agrees, rising from her seat and cracking her back when she stands. "Until next time." She may still have to kill him someday, but that goes for most people she knows.

[mactears]

At her words of farewell, he offers her the closest approximation to a smile that he can summon to his weathered face. "Until next time," he agrees. He watches her take her leave in pensive silence, before slowly resuming his idle pacing behind his work table again.