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.
The transition from private, intimate moment alone with Maric to having this moment suddenly laid bare before other eyes--before Alistair's, Maker help him--is abrupt, and leaves Loghain feeling as though he's been struck by something. He stands where Maric leaves him against the stone wall, his eyes still vague, but only for a moment longer.
It's painfully apt that Teren's appearance is what jogs him back into the moment; the stab of guilt, of shame that follows can't be dealt with now. They don't have the time.
"Maric," he says again, his voice a little hoarse but with growing confidence, because he remembers now and can feel the fingers of the Fade slowly loosening their hold on his mind. He remembers. "We've come to Seheron. For you."
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It's painfully apt that Teren's appearance is what jogs him back into the moment; the stab of guilt, of shame that follows can't be dealt with now. They don't have the time.
"Maric," he says again, his voice a little hoarse but with growing confidence, because he remembers now and can feel the fingers of the Fade slowly loosening their hold on his mind. He remembers. "We've come to Seheron. For you."