"Ah for fuck sake!"
Nas grabbed the small towel from the counter and wrapped it around her hand. Before she could summon her mana to heal the cut, the door to the small kitchen was wrenched open and a half naked elf stood in the frame.
She raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
Fenris took two long strides before he was filling her aura with his intoxicating presence. He grabbed her hand and pulled off the towel. Fenris poked the cut and Nas winced before she yanked her hand form his. He looked up at her with huge emerald puppy eyes.
"It's a cut. I'm fine."
As if enforcing her statement, Nas held her hand up to his eyes level and summoned a small ball of bright red mana in her palm. There was a tingling sensation before it vanished and left her hand perfectly cut free. Fenris continued to watch her as if she was about to collapse. Anger soared through her so easily that she surprised herself.
Part of her wanted to throw him through the wall. Instead, she turned and picked up the small knife again, slicing it over the potato and removing the skin.
She expected him to leave, but lately he had been doing things that surprised her. She felt his warm hands gently slip around her hips and his body lean against her back. His warm palms stopped on the small rise that was her womb. Her markings tickled as his lyrium caressed them. She felt her eyes close and her body come lose. She sighed inwardly. She was powerless against him.
Nas jumped as a high pitched cry pierced their moment. Both of them turned and saw Merrill standing awkwardly in the doorway. In her arms she cradled a squirming bundle of blankets and pink skin.
"Oh! I'm sorry! I – ill just-"
"No, Merrill, stay. I'm just making dinner. And what's this little man crying for, hm?"
Fenris let her go as Nas walked forward and reached out for the crying babe. She hushed and cooed to him as Merrill gently took his small figure. Looking down, Nas felt something stir in her chest. It was like looking down into Carver's face nearly twenty eight years ago. A flash of his dying face went through her mind before she blinked and sent it somewhere deep into the back of her mind.
The babe's face was delicate and lithe like it's mothers but his face was big and bulky like his father's. Painted across his cheeks were marks identical to Merrill's, but there was more added to them. Nas smiled, remember watching Varric go through his own Joining. To become Merrill's mate, he had had to have not only his Birth Marks but his Bonded Marks. And having them all at once made the dwarf look like a swollen punching bag. And it had taken nearly twelve hours for Merrill to tattoo them all.
According to the Dalish tradition, a babe born from a Bonded couple took a mixture of its parents markings. But they weren't tattooed onto the child's face permanently until their first year.
Nas tried to shake the idea away. There was no force on earth or paradise that would let Merrill tattoo a one year old. But that was something she wouldn't think about. For now, she had her own problem and priorities.
Her free hand went instinctively to the small rise that was her own babe. She ran her hand over her stomach, enjoying the feel of what was soon to be her own child.
She took a deep breath as she watched Tamlen open his big brown eyes.
Nas wasn't aware that everyone was watching her with the babe. She didn't see the way Merrill smiled and danced inwardly, or the way Fenris saw how much of a great mother his wife was going to become. All she saw was the way Tamlen studied her face and raised his hands to grab at the loose strands of her golden hair.
Nas turned her head. Fenris lay on his stomach with one hand by his face and the other no doubt dangling from the end of the bed. His hair stuck up wildly and he had kicked the covers off himself so much that they were in a crumpled heap by his feet.
She turned back to the book in her hands. Her eyes wondered over the words without actually taking anything in. She lowered the book and sighed. Her eyes wondered to the dark window.
Nas had never wanted to live in a forest. The one thing she had hated about Lothering was how close they were to the Wilds. She had gotten lost in the Wilds when she was younger and ever since that horrible day she had never thought she would step foot in a forest. And then she had gone to Kirkwall and ended up swashing through unidentifiable muck more times than she would care to count. And now she lived in the Brecillian Forest.
Nas snorted. Oh, the irony.
For the precious few months that she had been pregnant, her body had become... odd. But it could have been from her new markings. Nas lifted up her hand. The markings glowed faintly in the candle light. They spread over the back of her hand and up her arm.
And she knew that they went around her whole body and even on her face. She was glad that in some ways the Old Magic of Meredith's sword had saved her. It had given her the power to save Kirkwall. But was it worth it? She couldn't even summon a small fire spell now without lighting up her whole body. She knew that she was powerful before, but now... she was a beacon of mana.
Nas looked over to her sleeping husband. His markings now to her looked so pure. In some ways, he had saved her just as much as the magic.
Fenris had never blinked an eye about her markings. He had accepted them with a quiet understanding.
But now against him, she felt evil – corrupted. The magic had done so much wrong. It had sent Bartrand insane. It had sent Meredith packing to the nuthouse. So why had it marked her and not consumed her? Anders had left as soon as they had landed on Ferelden shores.
Isabella had gone not long after that. Even Aveline and Donnic had left for Denerim. Only Merrill and Varric had stayed, and Nas guessed it was because Merrill had been far too pregnant to travel. She sighed.
Looking down at her barely visible bump, a wave of guilt swam over her. What would her baby come out like? Would it be something dark and twisted because of the corruption in her skin?
Her stomach clenched.
Taking another deep breath, she tried to calm her racing her heart. Her baby would be fine. It'll have Fenris' green eyes and her blonde hair.
It will be perfect.
Her body relaxed and she picked up the book again. As she started to read, there was a small sigh from beside her. Looking down, she saw a groggy pair of eyes looking up. Reaching over, Nas gently brushed a strand of hair from his face.
"Can't sleep?"
Nas smiled and shook her head.
Fenris sat up and grabbed the blanket before lying back down. He opened his arms and Nas gently shuffled her way into his embrace.
She breathed him in deep. He smelt like oil, leather and earth. Since they came to the forest, Fenris seemed to have developed a... almost a connection to the earth. It seemed clichéd to her, but watching him dig in their small garden the day before, Nas saw how much he enjoyed the freedom. He would dig his hands completely into the earth and seemingly just to savour the feel.
Her body began to relax as she revelled in his warmth. It wasn't until a wave of nausea came over her that she jumped from the bed and grabbed the bucket in the far corner. Bringing up the remains of the rabbit stew she had made, Nas felt her whole body tremble. She hated being sick almost as much as she hated templars.
And she hated templars.
Sinking onto the cold wooden floor, Nas cradled the stinking bucket. She wanted to put her hand on her stomach, but part of her was angry at the babe.
She had grown used to the idea that she would never have children. After the abuse when she was fourteen, the incident had left her scarred and had permanently severed her chance of children. Her father had only confirmed this. She remembered the day when he had had to tell her.
Nas hadn't been able to move from the bed for two weeks. Her father went to her every hour to trickle more healing magic into her, but no amount of magic healed a broken spirit. He knew that she had to heal that by herself.
"Sweetness," he had said. "I need to talk to you about... about your injuries."
She turned her head slowly away from the window. The bruises on her face had gone from a deep purple to a greenish-yellow, which shows they were healing, but they were a constant reminder of what had happened to her.
Nas looked at her father with dead eyes.
His lower lip trembled slightly as he took her hand. Nas felt him squeeze reassuringly, but part of her already knew what he was going to say.
"Sweetness, the knife that was dragged across your belly caught your womb... I..." his voice broke. There was a small part of Nas that wanted to comfort her father, but why should she? Where was he what she had been pinned down by two templars?
"Honey, I don't think you'll be able to have babies." His voice was barely a whisper.
Nas blinked. Without a word or even a twitch of emotion in her stony face, she slowly pulled her hand away from her father. She folded her hands together and rested them above the healing wound on her belly before turning her head and looking back towards the window.
Her father had leant forward and rested his forehead against her elbow. She felt his body wracking with sobs, but she still didn't comfort him. She didn't even look at him.
Nas sucked in a breath, drawing herself from the memory.
She looked down to the bucket she was cradling. Before she could really try to control herself, Nas felt a tear fall down her cheeks. She had blamed him for something he was powerless to stop. She had blamed him for the greed and lust of two corrupted men.
And now she could never tell him how sorry she was.
When Nas could walk again, she had fled Denerim by herself. Too long did she wonder Ferelden, killing herself slowly with alcohol, sex and drugs. It wasn't until she received word that a young mage-girl with raven black hair had been caught trying to buy information about Nas from a templar. Bethany had travelled to Amaranthine to find her, and got herself caught in the process. Nas had sobered herself up, bought out some mercenaries and ambushed the carriage that was taking Bethany to the Circle.
After that, Nas knew that her family needed her. And she had stayed with them ever since. Not long after her return, her father had died. But at least she got to see him before he did. Although she was too stubborn to apologise to him. She had seen it though, seen forgiveness in his liquid gold eyes.
She would always cherish that look in his face. He was proud of her.
Nas felt a sob escape her lips. She was sorry, to him, to herself. Sorry to the baby for being so weak. Sorry to her mother for letting her die. Sorry to Beth, and to Carver. She had let everyone down, and now they were all dead.
Her body slowly slid closer to the floor and soon she was curled in a ball around the bucket.
As her mind started to become foggy and her thoughts became sluggish, Nas barely felt it when Fenris hooked his arms under her body. She felt herself shiver in his arms before he gently lay her on the bed. He climbed in next to her and pulled the blanket over them.
Nas sniffed quietly before closing her eyes again and letting herself slip uneasily into the Fade.
A small breeze blew a strand of her hair over her nose, making her cheek twitch. She felt the cold in the Fade, as if something was following her. She hated coming back to the deserted plains of the Fade. Ever since she had been trapped here, reliving her worst memories over and over again, she couldn't go back to dreaming normally. She always came to the same spot. It was a deserted island floating above the Land of Dreams. She sometimes heard the laughter come from someone's dream. Sometimes she even felt like she recognised it.
Another breeze rolled by making her shiver.
There was a noise behind her and she turned. The only sight that greeted her was more deserted space. She frowned and started to turn back to admiring the Land below. Something caught the corner of her vision. It was like a shadow that was too quick for her eyes to catch.
Another shiver went through her, but this wasn't from the cold. There was something following her here.
Naaaaaasssss...
Nas spun around, trying to catch the shadow. "Who's there?"
We ssssssee yoouuuu... we know you...
"Know me how?"
Your magic is sssssstrong...
"What do you mean? Who the hell are you?"
We aaaare coming... you will be oursssss...
A bolt of lightning went through her as she sat up. The sun was barely shining through their small window as Nas panted. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and small droplets of sweat ran down her face.
Her heart raced so quickly in her chest, she was sure it was going to crack something. Her markings were bright as if she had just cast a spell and her eyes were watering. Wiping the moisture from her lashes, Nas climbed from the bed.
Grabbing her trous from the floor, she dressed her bare legs and then wrapped herself in a thin cardigan that she had picked up from a small town on their way to the Brecillian forest.
Creeping across the cold floor, she looked over at Fenris's still sleeping frame. He was curled around himself, and his peaceful expression made her smile. But the smile was short lived when a shiver of pure dread crept down her spine. It was so strong that it made her gasp.
"Nas?"
Nas spun on her heel, calling her mana to her instantly. She dropped her defensive stance when she saw Merrill's eyes go wide and she cradles Tamlen closer to her chest.
Her markings lost their colour instantly and she sighed.
"I'm sorry Merrill... I just, didn't sleep well."
The elf nodded and loosened her grip on her baby. A wave of guilt flushed through Nas and she walked forward. Smiling at Merrill she looked down at Tamlen. His little cheeks had gotten chubby and his tiny ears had the slightest point at the tip.
"He used his magic last night."
Nas raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"
"I looked at his crib and he was glowing like a star."
Nas chuckled. "Smart boy."
Merrill nodded and looked down at the baby. Watching the way the elf studied the babe, as if nothing else in the world mattered, Nas felt jealous. As if in response, her stomach growled. Nas patted her belly and walked with Merrill into the kitchen.
Nas put water on the stove and started to cut bread slices as Merrill fed the baby.
When the toast and tea was done, they sat together at the small table and talked about mundane things. The conversation soon went quiet and Nas looked around the kitchen for something she could do. Her eyes landed on a small basket by the fireplace. Merrill had taught them all how to survive in the forest, and she had shown Nas which mushrooms and plants were good to eat.
The idea of walking alone in the early morning forest suddenly became a craving to her. She stood up and grabbed the basket.
"I'm going to go pick some... stuff. Whatever I can find."
Merrill gave her a weary look before nodding quickly. Nas walked towards the door and shoved her feet into her boots. She didn't bother with her cloak but as she strode out into the crisp morning, she regretted it. Ignoring the breeze against her skin, Nas trudged forward into the mass of trees.
He felt her absence as soon as he regained consciousness. The bed had a cold feel to it and reaching his hand over, his suspicions were confirmed.
Opening his eyes, he saw the crumpled emptiness of their bed. It wasn't unusual for her now. She hardly slept and rarely ate. He was hoping that it was because of the pregnancy, rather than... her change.
He was transported back to that battlefield in Kirkwall, hearing the way she screamed. He had felt her jump on him to protect him, but he couldn't bring his body to move. He fought tirelessly, but his body was exhausted.
It wasn't until Anders had gave him some energy that he was able to open his eyes and watch her as she ripped into the Knight-Commander.
She had been surrounded by a bright red light, but it seemed to move with her and not controlling her. He had watched her feed her magic into Meredith until she had overloaded and was turned to stone. After that, the magic cut light a candle being snuffed.
And that's when he saw the veins. The magic had embedded her skin just like his own, except hers were more violent. They were like scratches across her skin and they even went up and around her face. He had ran over to her and picked her up. When he saw her eyes though... he felt himself falter.
Her eyes had gone blood red.
It had startled him, to say the least. He felt the power surrounding her, but they were in too much of a rush to stop. He saw the way the rest of them had stared at her though, and he saw the hurt in her eyes. And he understood then. It was a moment of clarity that he'd never forget.
It didn't take him long to see that the magic had healed her whole body. Every scar, every broken bone. She had become a vision of perfection. He smirked to himself.
Not that she wasn't before.
But when she had told him... about the baby.
Fenris sat up and let the covers fall off him. He still didn't know what to feel. A part of him never wanted to stay still. He had gotten so used to moving, staying in Kirkwall for so long had been agonising. He was glad that they had ventured out of there every once in a while.
But having a child? That would root him down to one place. He had no qualms with being married, but staying in one home to raise a baby. He couldn't tell if he was anxious or scared.
But seeing Nasara, sitting in the light of a candle with a book in one hand and the other on her small bump. He could watch her for hours, if she didn't turn and glare at him with her red eyes that seemed to glow the angrier she got.
He heard a high pitched cry from the other room. Getting up and pulling on a shirt, Fenris wondered into the other room, following the smell of strong tea. He saw Merrill singing to herself as he walked into the kitchen. She was happily kneading dough. Her face was smeared with flour and it was all over her clothes. He saw the small basket on the table containing a sleeping baby.
"Merrill?"
The bloodmage turned ad gave him an innocent smile.
"Morning Fenris," she chirped.
He pulled out a chair and sat down. Merrill passed him a steaming mug and then turned back to her bread. Curiosity got the better of him and he found himself looking into the basket. The boy slept soundly for such a young babe. From his knowledge of babies, they usually cried the majority of the time and when they didn't, they just seemed to whinge.
But Tamlen, as far as he knew, was a quiet baby. He watched as the baby raised its tiny hand and flexed his fingers. There was a jolt of surprise when he saw a tiny spark of green light that flickered between his tiny palms. A swell of anger went through him, but he pushed it down. He clenched and unclenched his fists until the anger was gone.
"Where's Hawke?" He winced. Part of him couldn't drop the habit of calling Nasara by her last name.
"I mean Nas."
"Oh, she went out to pick some mushrooms, I think."
Fenris nodded and took a sip from his mug. Merrill suddenly stopped and turned to him.
"Fenris..." He raised an eyebrow. "Can I ask you a question?"
He nodded.
"Is there anything wrong with Nasara? She seemed, I don't know... a little jumpy this morning. She, uh... almost fried me."
"Fried you?"
"Yes, well... I walked out of my room the same time as she walked from hers and... she lit up like a lighthouse. She actually looked a little scary..."
Fenris studied the elf. She looked sheepish about talking about what was troubling her, but he saw genuine concern on her small face.
"She hasn't been sleeping well."
"Do you think it's the pregnancy?" He shrugged.
"What happened with you when you were pregnant?"
"Urm... I was the opposite, actually. I couldn't stay awake," she giggled nervously.
The room went quiet again as Merrill turned back to the dough. He understood the elf's concern, Nasara had seemed a little on edge lately.
"I'll see if I can find her."
Merrill nodded encouragingly as Fenris got to his feet. He turned to leave when he almost crashed into Varric. The dwarf gave him a smile, but Fenris saw the dark circles under his eyes.
Fenris changed quickly and wrapped himself up in his cloak. Before he left, he grabbed the red velvet cloak hanging on the hooks by the door. She usually forgot to wrap up in anything but what she was wearing. So, she was probably freezing.
He walked into the fresh morning and took a deep breath.
There was a small trail in the ground before him, with the distinct star imprint of her boots. Following her slowly, he let his mind wonder as he walked further into the forest.
He was so engrossed in his own mind that he didn't feel the change in the air until it practically danced on his skin. Fenris stopped dead. The very trees around him were silent. There was no sound around him and the air was thin. He itched to reach for the sword that wasn't on his back.
His body curled defensively. Fenris felt his senses come alive as the predator in him came alive. Something was wrong, and every fibre of him screamed at him to find his wife and unborn child.
"Nasara?"
His response was silence.
His eyes darted around wildly as he crept forward. And then the smell hit him.
It smelt like burnt hair.
Fenris ran forward until he stopped in the middle of a circle of burnt forest. The trees in the circle were char grilled and the ground was black. Magic crackled in the air and a basket full of mushrooms was tossed to the side.
His mind instantly went to the worst conclusion, and he felt panic starting to grip his mind. Then he saw the drag marks leading away from the burnt circle. His body came alive as he jumped over burnt ground and followed the trail.
Merrill wrung her hands again.
"Something is wrong."
Varric gently put his hand on the curve of her back. "They're fine."
"Varric they've been gone all day. They should be back by now... maybe we should look for them."
"Daisy I'm sure they just wanted some privacy."
But Merrill was already putting on her boots. He sighed and walked over to his babe in the basket. He grabbed another blanket from the back of a chair and wrapped it around him.
As he was about to grab the basket, he heard a gasp. Spinning on his heel, he was ready to pounce the intruder when he saw that the muddy figure was Fenris.
He stood, looming in the doorway. His whole body was covered in mud and his breathing was laboured. Merrill ran over to him, but the elf didn't see her. Varric saw something dangling from his clenched fist. After looking closer, he recognised it as Hawke's mother's locket. A locket that she never took off.
"It's Nasara. She's been taken."