"Cullen?"
He hadn't heard the door to his office open. He glanced at the window behind him. Maker's breath. How had it gotten so dark already?
He looked up at her. She had barely opened the door.
"Ganina! I'm sorry. I've had so much to do." She stepped inside and shut the door behind her. "Wait, how long have you been back?" He stepped around his desk and gathered her into his arms. She smelled of fire and horses. The smells of battle.
"Not long." She was out of her armor. She wore her quilted underpadding, a dark cloak against the cold.
"Why didn't anyone let me know?" He asked. "They're supposed to tell me when you're on the approach."
"I know. I asked them to let me—surprise you." She wasn't meeting his eyes. She didn't wrap her arms around him like she usually did. She didn't smile and press her lips against him like she usually did.
"Of course you did." He laughed, still spinning with surprised relief, glad to have her back intact. Her hair was still bundled into a utilitarian braid, and he couldn't help but dig his fingers into the plait at the back of her head. "Maker's Breath, I missed you."
"I missed you too." She murmured. She pressed her nose against his jaw. Her skin was cold.
"How was Emprise du Lion? Anything out of the ordinary?" He asked. He cursed himself. As much as he was ready to drag her up to his bed, he still needed a report before he could put his mind at ease. "Are you alright?"
"Actually, there's something I need to tell you." She took a deep breath. When she stared off into the corner and still didn't meet his eyes, the bright joy he felt at her presence started to sour.
"What's wrong?" He stepped back and attempted to look her over. She stilled his hands on her shoulders. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm not hurt, nothing like that."
"What's wrong?" He repeated. She was chewing on her lower lip. Her eyes were focused on his shoulder. "Ganina, what's going on? Is everyone else alright?"
"I'm… It's not bad." She said. Her voice wasn't right. She was usually powerful, bright like the blaze in a fireplace, roaring like the waves over a rocky shore. Tonight she was like the robin that sang several hours before the sun rose.
"Alright." He answered. He pulled her back towards his desk, the light of the candles and the slight warmth they offered. "So what is it? Did something happen?"
"Yes. Actually, no, it might be bad." She pressed her hands into her eyes. "I can't tell right now."
"Ganina, just tell me." He pressed, trying to peer into her face as if she might lower her hands, finally meet his eyes, he might be able to see whatever was happening there. "Whatever it is we'll make it work."
"I'm pregnant." There was a blankness that spread through his mind like molasses. That couldn't… How did…
"What?"
"I'm pregnant!" She finally pulled her hands down, and for only the second time since he'd known her he could see tears between her lashes.
That sticky silence faded and visions that he hadn't touched in many, many years washed over him. A family, a child to call his own was a far-away, golden dream that had remained untouched since he had been sent away to the Chantry.
"What? My love, that's not bad! How could that be bad?"
"I still have to fight him." Her eyes were wide and dark. "We can't stop now. I can't stop."
He led her back to sit in his chair. He had to remove several books and stacks of papers from it first, but after moving everything to the top of his desk, he led her to sit.
She sank into the chair farther than he though possible, and he wrapped his fingers around her chilly cheeks, hoping to spread some warmth into her. He sat on the desk in front of her and propped a foot on the chair by her leg. Her hands finally reached out to him. He felt her fingers burrowing under his cloaks and armor, come to rest on his sides.
This war was almost finished. Since they had returned from the Arbor Wilds, there had been little mention of Corypheus, and from what they had gathered, he was on the run. There was little left but to finish him. But… from everything they had learned, it was fairly clear that she needed to be the one to finish him.
"I don't know how, either though." She said softly, staring at their gloved hands. "I thought the lyrium… I thought it made it impossible."
"I stopped taking the lyrium, though." He said softly. "Months ago." Watching her, he was alarmed how crestfallen she looked. Was this not something she would want? "Almost a year ago. I didn't know that it could be reversed—That that part of it…" He pushed a piece of hair from her face. "Do you want this?" He asked quietly.
"Yes!" She grasped at his hands. "Yes, but, not now. It's now that's the problem. I don't know how I can finish this in good conscience now." The breath she took shook. "I can't believe this is the mistake we've made."
"It's not a mistake." He insisted against her forehead.
"In this context…" She began. "I can't believe I was that stupid."
"Not stupid. Just another problem to solve. Another factor to our planning."
She laughed, and pulled him close into an embrace. "Yes, Commander." He wrapped his arms as tight about her as he could. He couldn't hold back a slight laugh as he thought about what their children would look like. Would they have his blond hair and fair skin or be ginger haired and freckled like her?
Why was he not panicking like her?
"We'll figure this out." He said quietly. Saying it somehow made it true. "How far?" She pulled back and tilted her head at him. "How far are you?"
"About two months." He thought back to that visit in Orlais with a smile. "As near as I can figure." She pressed her fingers into the muscle behind his knees. "What do we do?"
"We finish this." He said quietly. "What else?" He brushed her hair down the back of her neck. She was so soft, so hard at the same time. "Sooner rather than later."
"How?" She asked? The tears were back in her eyes, which terrified him. He hoped they wouldn't become a permanent fixture with her pregnancy. He kissed her forehead.
"I'll figure it out." He spoke against her skin. "We'll figure it out. But not right now." He was too warm with the thought that he was to be a father—dad. And she was to be mother, and they would finally create life instead of taking it. He hadn't realized how ready to nurture he was until he was faced with the thought of a chubby, fresh-skinned babe in his arms.
"Just think, Josephine was so upset when we were late to that dinner…" He teased her, nudging her face up to his with his nose. "and think how she'll change her tune now." She laughed quietly, a sullen puff of air, and pressed her mouth against his knee.
"Does it feel any different?" As his hands found their way to her shoulders, he realized he was probing her, feeling her out, trying to see what was different now that he knew. Was she softer? Her skin seemed warmer, suddenly. Her cheeks maybe seemed rounder. Her eyes definitely shone differently—he couldn't decide about the tears, yet.
"No." She answered. "Yes." She suddenly laughed. He pulled back and looked at her. She was finally smiling. "I'm tired. I've been tired a lot. Dorian was giving me hassle all the way back."
"Of course he was. So do they all know?" She laughed again. That smile looked good on her, he decided.
"Yes! Completely unintentionally! I couldn't hide the sickness, and then Cole goes and spouts off while we're gearing up one morning… Bless his soul…" She stilled and looked up at him, a slight curl to her lips. He began to worry for a moment, until her fingers squeezed at the flesh of his knee. "Are you… are you okay with this?"
"Okay? I…" He grabbed her hands from around his knees and pressed her knuckles to his mouth. Her fingers were too cold, too. There was no way they'd be able to sleep in his room tonight. "This is amazing." No, that wasn't it. "You're amazing." She slipped a hand from his and pulled him down by the neck until she could press her lips against him. She was dry, finally warm, and he dug his fingers into her hair again.
When he found himself just sitting and smiling at her, she stood up and took his hand. "Come with me, I'm starving."
"Oh, well we can't have that." He answered, rushing to open the door for her. "You're taking care of my child in there."
"Yours?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Ours." He kissed her again. As she pulled away, she sighed.
"I did have every intention of telling you before anyone else, but my dear Cole had no idea that telling Dorian and Blackwall over the campfire five nights ago wasn't exactly 'helping'."
"How did he find out?" Cullen wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"He just knew. Like he does. I think I was nervous. About keeping it a secret. So he let the secret out."
"At least you didn't have to write out announcement letters."
"Ugh. Nobles are supposed to do that, aren't they?" He nodded, pulling an extra mantle from a chair by the door and wrapping it around her. To his surprise, she let him coddle her, wrapping the thick fabric around her shoulders and pulling it up to her cheeks. "We'll leave that to Josie. I'm sure she'll enjoy it."
"Good news for once. We haven't had enough of that lately." He held the door open for them, and braced himself against the cold wind that shot through the doorway.
"I'll say. Dorian was positively giddy. I won't be surprised if he presents me with knitted booties in a few days. He's declared himself an honorary uncle."
"I'm sure this child will have many aunts and uncles."
She stopped just outside the door to the keep. "Are you happy?" He turned and presented his attention. "With this? I know we never talked about it, and we've never really had time to talk about the future, what we wanted—"
He kissed her. He kissed her and tried to tell her everything he wasn't able to put into words just yet. He kissed her and placed his hands on the pulse in her neck, reveled in the warmth of her, the fire of her. As he felt her smile against his mouth, he couldn't stop a laugh.
"Sorry." He whispered. "What I meant to say was 'I love you', and 'I couldn't be happier', and 'we'll make it work.'"