Ellisa Cousland, or rather Queen Theirin, meandered her way through the rich halls of the Anrivan palace. Bright red tapestries adorned the walls, sheer curtains blowing lightly in the breeze that curled off the canals. She had never imagined that she would make it out of Ferelden, even as a noble born woman. When she was young she had resigned herself to a boring marriage with a man much older than herself and having to deal with the headaches of court gossip and fashion forward elites.

But then Duncan appeared in her life, bringing turmoil with him like a hurricane. No, that was not an apt description for the man that conscripted her into the Grey Wardens. Duncan was more of a herald, an ominous breeze on which a terrific storm followed.

And before she knew it she was an adventurer with not even a dozen misfits under her command. She made closer friends in those nine months than the maidens that grew up beside her in Highever. She learned the truth of death and life, how the finality of death flipped worlds around. Her blade tasted true vengeance at Howe's throat. She lost her best friend in exchange for her life.

She smiled as she reminisced on her party's adventures, despite running a blade through the skull of the Archdemon, she still counted her greatest victory as Alistair. Her love, husband and King had made all the cold nights of terror and stress worth it. Finally, standing at his side as Queen and Warden Commander she felt like she belonged for the first time in her life.

A stone dropped in her gut as she thought of her duty as queen. She was an excellent ruler, even Landsmeet could agree on the fact that she was born to be a leader. Diplomacy was in her blood, graceful power exuded from her every pore, but that made no difference in the fact that she could not seem to perform her most important task.

She could not produce and heir.

She very well knew that the taint in her blood would make it hard for her to bear child with a normal man, but two Grey Wardens trying to produce a child? The chances were impossibly slim. It was a miracle that he was even able to produce a child with Morrigan.

Elissa winced. That thought still stung.

Looking back, Elissa knew she was being selfish when she accepted Morrigan's proposal. She should have died like all the Grey Wardens before her. Instead she drove off her best friend, urged her man to sleep with a woman he hated with a passion, and created another royal bastard and potentially a monster in a child's body.

The Queen's downcast eyes rose as a lovely smell curled into her nostrils. A grin lit her face; food. She was still a fighter and Warden, which was a burden enough on the palace kitchens, but as of late she has been eating enough to shame Ohgren. The Dwarf often teased his Commander that she would turn into a blight-pig sooner or later.

He found that the prison cell floors were not very comfortable.

She followed her nose through a maze of corridors that she did not know in the direction of the food that teased her. She loved Antivan food, she didn't know if she would ever appreciate a beef and cabbage stew again after sampling the palette of Antivan royalty.

Much to her annoyance, fifteen minutes into walking and she was thoroughly lost. She huffed to herself; the walls around her were lined with books and scrolls, no longer resembling the elegant décor of the main hall. Great, she found her way into the archives.

Suddenly her steps faltered, feet fumbling across the alabaster stone. A hand shot out to brace against a shelf, the other raised to her forehead. Elissa scowled at herself; another bout of dizziness, the third in the past two days. The world lurched around her and she moved closer to the bookshelf, using it to lower herself to the floor, this one was worse than the others. Gray edged at her vision and she made a muffled sound, tongue feeling heavy and unnatural in her mouth as she tried to call out.

The Hero of Ferelden could not defeat the enemy that was her own body and she lost consciousness, lost to the world around her.

Alistair grimaced at another bad joke by the current king of Antiva, though from recent political upheavals he wouldn't be surprised if on his next visit he would be addressing a different man as king. He was enjoying a light lunch with the elite of Antivan society. And by enjoying he meant suffering through. As if it wasn't enough that every time he heard that flowing accent he thought of one of Zevran's outrageous innuendos, but his wife and partner in crime at social events was not with him.

They had made a habit of discreetly making fun of the nobles in court, making the day in-day out line of cordial affairs bearable. He felt a hint of betrayal; chances were she was hiding away in an attempt to avoid the latest get together, sacrificing him like a lamb to the overly touchy Antivans.

On second thought perhaps it was best that she wasn't here. The 'friendly' nobles were getting on his nerves terribly when it came to his queen.

His mood dampened further as he started to analyze Elissa's absence. She had been feeling under the weather their entire trip- no- longer than that. She has been depressed and forlorn due to what she couldn't control. They wanted a family desperately, and with nothing to show for their enthusiastic efforts she was blaming herself.

And it's not like they weren't trying! They tried almost everyday, scaring the serving staff terribly. On beds, tables, thrones…storage cupboards. She reasoned that since Alistair was able to conceive a child with Morrigan then it must be something wrong with her.

He almost sneered in the face of the Antivan King. Morrigan. Just the thought of the woman still gave him a headache. He did not enjoy a moment of the intimate night he shared with the witch, he only thought of Elissa. After that night he found he hated Morrigan even more…if that was possible. What kind of person goes up to their best friend and asks to sleep with her recently announced fiancée…even if it was for a kinda good reason.

His mental rant that he wished to throw in the face of the 'Bitch of the Wilds' was abruptly cut off as a serving boy rushed into the middle of the party unannounced; a major error that would probably get him whipped. His eyes searched the assembled guests franticly until they fell on the Ferelden King.

"M-my Lord!" The servant scampered over to him. "Your wife- the Queen- she was found unconscious. She is ill!"

Alistair did not stay to hear the rest of the report, or give his proper good byes to his host. He just ran.

Not Elissa, anyone but Elissa.

Elissa's eyes slid open slowly, the first thing she noticed was that she was no longer leaning against a very uncomfortable book shelf. As her eyes focused she realized that her vision was blocked by her husband's face; all concerned puppy eyes and pouting lips.

She felt a warm hand stroking her hair and she closed her eyes again at the relaxing motion. This seemed to put Alistair back into a panic as he started calling her name and trying to persuade her to stay awake. She smiled in amusement at his doting and decided to grant him reprieve by opening her eyes and giving him a comforting smile.

Alistair's anxiety retreated as she got a firm grip on her consciousness, but it was short lived. His eyes darted to the side at the healer that had given her a check up, though he was usually wary of mages as an almost-templar, he nearly gathered her up in a hug when she had reported to him. Now how to tell Elissa…

At the sight of the King's worried expression, Elissa tried to sit up and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He only gently pushed her back against the soft silk cushions, answering her unanswered question with a sweet smile.

"Elissa…" he trailed of, looking to the side again. His tongue felt like lead, contrasting with his heart that simply wanted to soar out of his chest. "Love, you collapsed in the library and…"

A face-splitting grin over took his face and it only confused her more. If he was this pleased, maybe she should faint more often.

"We got you checked up and it was only stress that made you faint, but they found something else." Alistair couldn't keep his voice at a calm pitch, voice raising an octave with unadulterated joy as he gazed down at his queen.

Elissa was just getting progressively more confused. What in Thedas was happening?

Alistair took a deep breath. Ecstatic words rushing out all in one breathe.

"You're pregnant!"

A/N: For those who read my other stories; I warned you guys that I was getting all over Dragon Age. You knew this was coming.

Everyone else: Thank you so much for reading. It will not be rainbows and butterflies for long. In fact shit is about to get real. So stick around for Hawke in the next chapter and her lover~

Drop a review so I know if I'm doing good. Thank you!