WHO: Adalia, Alistair, Freddie, Herian, Loghain, Medicine Seller, Melys, Nathaniel, Notas, Teren. WHAT: Rescuing a king, maybe. WHEN: Early Wintermarch WHERE: An island off Seheron, the Fade NOTES: Violence, disturbing imagery.
Loghain may be in the minority of preferring a rough sea voyage to a calm one, if only because it gives him plenty of opportunities to make himself useful. He moves with purpose around the deck seeing to various tasks that need doing, careful never to give any instruction or suggestion that may give the appearance of contravening the authority of the ship's captain.
Now it's late afternoon, and he's standing near the prow of the boat watching the horizon. To call his expression inscrutable would be an understatement.
It's impossible to forget how the last voyage went, and Teren has been making herself as useful as possible while also trying not to panic every time the boat pitches or she spots a disturbance in the water. She's kept it under wraps for the most part, but it's a stressed Senior Warden who appears at Loghain's side while he stands at the prow, her arms clasped tightly over each other to ward off the cold and overall misery.
"Mac Tir," she greets in a low voice, almost as though she's ashamed to.
He turns his head at her greeting and returns it with a wordless nod. There's a softness in his eyes when he looks at her now, but today it's overshadowed by grim preoccupation with the task that they've undertaken together. He exhales and chafes a hand against his weathered face, turning his eyes back out across the water.
"I pray this does not turn out to be a fool's errand," he admits to her quietly. (He hears the note of shame in her voice, but knows better than to draw attention to it.)
"Even if it does," she reasons quietly, resting a hand on the boat's railing, "you shall keep on living regardless." She learned that the hard way, on her own fool's errand. "And there will be clarity, in some form or another." A covert glance toward his face. "One hopes."
He voices a low, pensive sound of agreement and lets the sound of the waves washing up against the hull of the ship fill the silence between them for the moment. Loghain has never much been given over to small talk, which makes keeping company with Teren pleasant, since she seems similarly inclined most of the time.
(There's still that newly acknowledged bit of tension between them, however--)
"Regardless, I am glad for company, on an errand such as this one," he says. He could be talking about anyone's company, of course. Not just Teren's, of course. (of course.)
Of course. She too is content enough to let the silence grow between them, and appreciates that it feels natural this time. It isn't difficult to recognize that nothing about this mission is about her, that she's here to play a support role to two people going through something difficult. When she's not paying attention, Teren can be thoughtful.
In response to Loghain's remark, she dares herself to rest a hand on his arm, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance. "We'll find him," she decides.
A warm, gentle touch, and words of comfort that he'd come to expect from no one--Loghain glances down at her hand on his arm wordlessly. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he briefly covers her hand with his own, squeezes once.
He can't speak the words to give voice to the welling of gratitude that he feels. But he presses his lips together tightly, nods once, and clears his throat.
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they're on a boat
Now it's late afternoon, and he's standing near the prow of the boat watching the horizon. To call his expression inscrutable would be an understatement.
no subject
"Mac Tir," she greets in a low voice, almost as though she's ashamed to.
no subject
"I pray this does not turn out to be a fool's errand," he admits to her quietly. (He hears the note of shame in her voice, but knows better than to draw attention to it.)
no subject
no subject
(There's still that newly acknowledged bit of tension between them, however--)
"Regardless, I am glad for company, on an errand such as this one," he says. He could be talking about anyone's company, of course. Not just Teren's, of course. (of course.)
no subject
She too is content enough to let the silence grow between them, and appreciates that it feels natural this time. It isn't difficult to recognize that nothing about this mission is about her, that she's here to play a support role to two people going through something difficult.
When she's not paying attention, Teren can be thoughtful.
In response to Loghain's remark, she dares herself to rest a hand on his arm, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance. "We'll find him," she decides.
no subject
He can't speak the words to give voice to the welling of gratitude that he feels. But he presses his lips together tightly, nods once, and clears his throat.