As some of you know, I headcanon Loghain gay- explaining my feelings about how he relates to the women in his life, especially since I have no intention of erasing them, is difficult, so I tried to do it with this fic about him and Celia.
There weren’t many dances in Gwaren. It was a practical
little town, still recovering from the war, focused mostly on trading goods
through the bustling port. But still, when the King came to town, you threw
some pomp and ceremony, tried a little harder to impress. That’s what the few
city officials Loghain listened to said, anyway, and after weeks of begging, he
finally accepted their request for a ball.
The clothes he was wearing were tight on his shoulders and
chest. He still hunted and fought in skirmishes, and the clothes were made for
a smaller man. At least they were simple. He wouldn’t go out in public wearing
the sort of finery the Orlesians preferred. It wouldn’t get on his body in the
“You’re staring again.”