A Fereldan Carol (A Dragon Age fanfiction)

Stave 2

Loghain slammed the door to his room, disgusted with himself that he had fallen victim to some weak-minded hallucination. Maric's drowned ghost could hardly have come visiting him, he scoffed. The remaining piles of seaweed must be someone's idea of a sick joke. Maker knew, he'd made enough enemies in his time. Not that he cared. Almost defiantly, he began stripping off his clothes, getting ready to climb into bed.
It occurred to him, as he reached for the blankets, that Maric hadn't said when the three spirits would be arriving. Not, he thought, that he believed in the spirits. Or in Maric's ghost. Certainly not. But all the same, he scanned the room, still dimly lit by the fire, to reassure himself that no one was there before he sank back into the pillows.

He dropped into an unusually deep slumber, secure in the knowledge that the Grey Wardens were safe in jail, money was pouring into the country's coffers, and Anora was taken care of here in the palace.
Sometime later Loghain awoke when the covers were yanked off of him. "Who's there?" he said muzzily, still half asleep. He sat up, feeling in the darkness. His hand encountered a misty damp coldness hanging in midair. He snatched the hand back with an exclamation of disgust.

Reaching to the table by the bed, Loghain struggled with a taper, trying to light the candle he kept there. His hands were shaking. "Get hold of yourself," he muttered, finally managing to light the candle. He held it up toward the cold spot he had felt.

"Ah, so you are awake, Loghain Mac Tir." The voice was soft, almost ethereal, definitely female.

"Get out of my room," he growled. "I have no need of any ... companionship this night."

"You were warned to expect me," the voice said. "Arise. We have many places to go, and we will not get there by lying abed."

"Why don't you go, then, and leave me in peace?"

"Are you? At peace?"

Loghain groaned, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Clearly not," he snapped, "with you chattering at my bedside."

"Then come with me."

He stood up, looking down at the spirit. She was an elf, swathed in a gauzy white robe, emitting a soft white light from somewhere inside her. "Do I know you?"

"I am a spirit, nothing more. My light has been with you, but my face will not be known to you."

Loghain hastily pulled his clothes on, feeling more able to handle the situation when he was fully dressed. He turned to face her. "Where exactly do you intend to take me?" he demanded.

"If you will follow, all will be revealed."

Really, there was little he disliked more than cryptic statements that were supposed to sound meaningful. "Is it that hard to answer a direct question?" he snapped.

In response, the spirit's glowing white hand wrapped around his. Loghain looked down at it, somewhat surprised that her hand hadn't slid right through his, but the train of thought was disrupted when his feet left the ground. Or, to be more accurate, the ground left his feet.

Loghain had the sensation of standing perfectly still as the world turned around him, a blur of colors and sounds. As it began to slow, he recognized the deep greens and dusty greys of the Korcari Wilds.

He looked around him with suspicion. "What is this, spirit? Why are we here?"

"Do you not know where you are?"

"I know where we are," he said. "I cannot imagine why we're here, or how we arrived."

"Is it necessary always to know how and why? Perhaps those questions will be answered on their own. If you are patient."