Preamble
The God-child's birth is a major event, and probably warrants a dramatic story on its own. I don't think one like this been published here before. The female PC is of course the witch Morrigan who was in a relationship with a human noble warrior simply known as The Warden. A very humane and realistic picture of the characters is portrayed, encouraging the readers to feel compassion for them. The storyline is kept simple, but imagery is detailed. The emotions and feelings of the characters help bring them to life. Some scenes are violent, some are tender. Certain scenes may shock, but this is the aim – to evoke emotions. The overall tone of the story is quite dark and serious. Not everyone will like it, but I hope you'll enjoy reading it anyway.
She caught her reflection in the brimming bucket of water as she heaved it from the banks of the brook. Within the murky liquid, the clear outline of her face stared back at her, interrupted only by the glint of the morning sun as its rays bounced off the water's surface. She admired her eyes, a deep, piercing golden-yellow colour, so striking that even strangers would stop to remark upon their uniqueness, and her narrow, delicate nose, set above soft fuchsia lips. Her skin was pale and flawless. Her dark hair was tied loosely in a bun above her nape. Strands of soft wavy hair fell carelessly over her forehead.
By the time she was eighteen years of age, no less than a handful of men had given up their lives at her hands. Although knowledgeable in the arcane arts, it was her beauty and charm that she relied on to further her cause and satisfy her whims, whatever they may be. Men were fools, she knew, so easily distracted by the mere glimpse of a woman's ankle. But her beloved was not the same as other men. He was a Grey Warden, high-born and noble in all manner and deeds. He had been her lover and companion for a short while, yet strong as she was, she had been weakened by her feelings for him. Her thoughts strayed back to that fateful night in Redcliffe, when they had lain together for the last time and she had conceived their child. She had made him vow never to seek her out. And it seemed that he had duly obeyed. Part of her wished it weren't so. No, I shan't think about that! She chided herself for feeling regret. You have no choice. Yet, she could not but help feel a certain emptiness and longing that she had never felt before.
Her eyes cast downwards, towards her ample bosom, which had swelled considerably in the last few months. This pleased her, but for the awful soreness that accompanied it, making it painful to wear clothing lest they rubbed against her breasts. Nonetheless some form of cover was required to keep warm, even if they were mere rags, which she wore loosely around her bosom and waist. She lay her hand on her exposed belly, which was swollen and heavy with child. She had not enjoyed the way her normally slender body had swelled and become more rounded as the babe grew inside her; it was grotesque and disfiguring, she had felt. There is little elegance in one heavy with child. And she was indeed very heavy now, as she could no longer see her feet as she walked nor breathe or lie without discomfort.
No doubt it will be over soon, she comforted herself, as the nine months drew to a close. Still, she did not resent the life inside of her, but felt a sense of protectiveness and possibly even love towards it, which surprised her. She winced as she felt a strong kick from her womb.
The brook meandered close to her small hut deep in the Korcari Wilds. It was sturdily built with stone and wood but had long ago been abandoned, and was now her home. After the Archdemon was slain, she had returned to the wilds where she grew up, relishing the comfort that seclusion and familiarity had brought. She had ensured that no one would be able to find her easily, masking all her tracks as she made her way far into the depths of the wilds. The tales of various monstrosities and beasts that slumbered in these parts were enough to keep many a daring adventurer away. Nearby, a temple to an unknown divinity lay in ruins, undisturbed for many centuries. She had rarely ventured out, seeking only to steal necessary supplies from the nearest settlements fringing the wilds, always under the cover of darkness.
Dark clouds had gathered on the horizon and the rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, warning of an impending storm. She reached out to grasp a branch, steadying herself as she carried the bucket towards her hut. She had felt unusually drained today and thought only of lying down to rest. She had become much weaker as the months went by, which was no doubt the doing of the growing babe. And then she felt it. A strong wave of pain seared through her body as the bucket fell to her feet, drenching the ground beneath her. She lurched forwards, gasping for breath as the pain took hold, her hands clutching her belly. With great effort, she staggered into her hut. A rush of warm fluid ran down the inside of her legs. Carefully, she lowered herself onto the soft straw which served as her bed, and waited in silence until the pain passed. It is time, she thought to herself, and although she had prepared herself as best she could, she dreaded what was to follow.