Blood Ties
A/N This fic has yet to be completely proofread but I promise it will be. It has been quite a while since the last time I wrote a fanfic so I'm submitting this chapter now to test the waters. I intend to contact a beta reader, proofread and revise this chapter and continue the story.
If you think my plot or writing does – or doesn't – hold any promise, let me know.
I haven't played the Awakening expansion and therefore I'm not taking the events of it into consideration in this fic. I hope you can enjoy this anyway as a standalone sequel to Dragon Age Origins.
Note that this chapter is a bit on the angsty side but the cheerfulness will improve in later chapters. Enjoy.
Chapter I
Sheila's POV
The streets of Denerim were bustling with activity as Sheila regarded the citizens go about their daily business though the window of the royal palace.
A merchant carrying crates of goods to the market.
A guard directing a foreigner toward the Alienage.
A woman tickling her child, the little boy laughing heartily.
She felt a twinge in her heart at the sight and looked away. It was too painful.
She gave a start when muscled arms encircled her waist from behind and she felt a stubbled cheek press against her temple.
A pair of hands gently lay against her flat belly.
"How did it go, love?"
She stiffened as she recalled her meeting with the mage at court. She closed her eyes for a moment and summoned all her strength to be able to speak without wavering.
"We still haven't had any luck."
She felt him sigh. It was subtle and she could tell that he was trying to suppress it, but she felt the slight broadening of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled. Then his grip on her tightened and he pressed a gentle kiss to her hair.
"Don't worry about it, my love. It's just like you said. It won't be for a lack of trying."
Even though her eyes were watery she couldn't help but smile at her beloved husband's optimism. She turned in his embrace and put her arms around his neck.
Her smile vanished and she turned serious. Her green eyes sought his brown ones.
"Do you think we'll ever succeed?"
He regarded her speculatively for a moment.
He had changed so much during the last twelve months, the coronation and the wedding forcing his transition from boy to man. Except for his familiar sense of humour, the mischievous glint in his eyes and his boyish smile all traces of the awkward, insecure boy she met was gone. With her help he had adapted to his new role in Fereldan society and Ferelden flourished under the rule of the new strong and righteous king.
He rested his forehead against hers.
"We gathered the forces of the dwarves, the elves and the humans. We defeated Teyrn Loghain and ended the Blight. I think you and I can do anything we want to do." He stated, his gaze insistent and willing her to believe him. She nodded tentatively and stroked his cheek.
"I love you, Alistair. You know that right?"
He smiled mischievously and opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Your Majesty's presence is requested in the main hall." A muffled voice sounded from the other side.
Alistair rolled his eyes and kissed the tip of her nose before pulling away.
"Sorry darling. Duty calls." He said, his voice mockingly solemn.
Before exiting their sleeping quarters he turned to her and winked.
"And just for the record: I love you too."
When he closed the door behind him she sat down on their bed and stared absent-mindedly into the wall, worry tying her stomach in knots.
* * * Earlier * * *
Sheila drew a deep breath as she stood outside the door of the mage at court. It was time for the monthly consultation she had attended since she and Alistair had been wed.
She noticed her hand shaking as she reached for the doorknob and rebuked herself for her nervousness.
"By Andraste's Sword, pull yourself together, woman! You have faced down hordes of Darkspawn, not to mention the Archdemon itself! You can do this."
By sheer force of will she turned the doorknob and crossed the threshold. As she entered the room she was met by a gentle smile from Ainea, the elder mage, who attended to any medical or practical need for magic at the royal court. She sat behind her desk, various documents scattered across its surface, glasses placed on the tip of her nose.
"Ah, there you are, Your Majesty. Right on time. Please sit down." She offered softly and gestured toward the familiar tall chair by her desk.
Sheila approached warily and carefully sat down, feeling uncomfortable and exposed, as Ainea got out of her chair and circled the desk to stand in front of her.
Sheila, being familiar with the procedure, lifted the hem of the simple blue tunic she wore to expose her belly and Ainea carefully placed her hands against Sheila's lower abdomen and closed her eyes. She felt the tingling sensation of magic spreading through her from Ainea's fingertips, warming her and gently prodding around.
Sheila tried to focus on anything else but the impending outcome of the mage's examination. She stared at the fine grey hairs subtly appearing in the mage's otherwise thick, dark mane as the mage opened her eyes slowly and furrowed her brow, looking concerned.
Sheila swallowed forcefully when Ainea removed her hands and folded them in front of her. Her expression was serious and Sheila felt her chest tighten at the prospect of receiving bad news once again.
"And?" She inquired tentatively, searching Ainea's eyes. They turned soft and sympathetic.
"I'm sorry, my dear. But you are not yet with child."
The disappointment washing over her was almost palpable, leaving a bitter taste lingering in her mouth. She nodded stiffly in acceptance.
"Well, we'll just have to keep trying then." She stated, her voice betraying her hopelessness and lacking the confidence and determination of the first six months of her marriage.
The mage patted her reassuringly on the shoulder.
"As always, I have attempted to enhance your chances of pregnancy to the best of my ability."
Sheila forced a smile and thanked Ainea for her time and effort before returning to her and Alistair's sleeping quarters.
As she closed the door, she leaned against it and slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands.
She wasn't used to problems that couldn't be solved with her sword or her tongue.
Her background as a noble woman of Highever had endowed her with the talents of a great politician and advisor as well as combat skills that made her the competent Fereldan general and Grey Warden that she was.
But at this point her political and military skills weren't enough. Her devotion to her King and husband wasn't enough. As the Queen of Ferelden she was required to give her King an heir and the fact that she hadn't made the nobles restless.
Arl Eamon had welcomed her with open arms when she impulsively had announced her engagement to Alistair at the Landsmeet but she couldn't avoid noticing the expectant sideways glances he cast her every time they visited Redcliffe.
She got up and went to the window, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she observed the people who could live their lives the way she wished she could.
* * * * * *
As she sat on the bed mentally recalling the sight of the mother and her son outside the palace, she felt longing claw at her heart.
Lately she had found herself longing for a child of her own, an heir to carry on her family, her name and her memory.
During the Blight thoughts of the future seemed distant and meaningless. The slim chances of pregnancy and the drastic reduction of her life span caused by the Taint hadn't worried her at a time when every moment could be her last anyway. Only the here and now mattered then and sensations of grief, joy and love were intense and overwhelming.
Now she found herself in the aftermath where she was struggling to come to terms with a somewhat trivial life that wasn't really hers to lead.
She was faced with the reality that experiencing the joys of motherhood wasn't an option.
Growing old with her husband wasn't an option.
And every dream and ambition seemed to crumble along with their loss.
Sheila felt defiance and anger surge through her veins like liquid fire and she fisted her hands tightly.
Where was the justice in the heroes, who gave up everything to save the world, suffering this punishment?
Sheila felt her survival instinct kick in. She wouldn't accept this fate. She refused to admit defeat and submit to a future she didn't deserve.
Alistair was right. They had defeated Teyrn Loghain and the Blight against all odds.
They could do anything they wanted to do.
With this resolution in mind she pulled her old, worn backpack out of a chest and began packing. She had some travelling to do.