Author's Note: It gets a bit darker here...I promise this is a darker tale despite how lighthearted the first chapter is!
"It's just that you have the same glow your mother did…but I could be wrong!"
Dilwyn's words still rang in Kila's head. The gravel crunched under her feet as she pulled the hood of her cloak further down over her forehead. She was not attempting to conceal her identity, but she was also not interested in talking to anyone as she made her way through Denerim. Wynne. She had to see Wynne, the only person that could help her sort this out. Impulsively her hand dropped down to her stomach. There was no denying the faint lump growing on her abdomen. With all the administrative duties she was trapped in, she assumed that she was growing soft, much to her embarrassment. Once she dealt with the source of the nausea, she had vowed to do double time on the training grounds to make up for it all…but now?
Suddenly, she was jerked out of her thoughts as a small boy ran up to her, "Lady Kila?" he asked and she curtly nodded, "Message for you! The King requests an audience."
"He's back?" she asked the boy. He politely nodded as he turned heel to run off to his next assignment. The question was redundant, of course the King returned.
For the first time in days, she gasped with excitement. Alistair might have some answers for her, or at least he would understand why she was upset. As she quickened her pace, Wynne was pushed out of her mind completely. After a short explanation to the guards, she was soon ushered into one of the conference chambers where she waited for Alistair.
"Lady Kila!" Alistair exclaimed loudly as he threw his arms open for a hug. He was never one for being proper. With a childish grin, she returned his hug, letting her worries lift away for a brief moment. "That was fast, I didn't expect to see you until at least evening"
Kila smiled as she stepped back, "I was already on my way when your boy found me. I had no idea you were back, when did you arrive?"
"Oh, just a couple of days but we kept it quiet. You know how I feel about all the pomp and ceremony. When I leave there's a ceremony, when I return there's another, when I wipe my nose…well you get the point. Bloody waste of time if you ask me."
"Oh, a couple of days. So I assume you've spent some time with Anora?" she asked. He quickly broke eye contact. That was a no. "Oh Alistair," she scolded "You know, I've spent a lot of time with her lately. She'd been a huge help teaching me the…drier side of things. But I am surprised how much I've come to like her. She's not as terrible as all that."
With a sour look on his face he turned back to his friend before quickly changing the subject, "Riiight. So anyway, why were you already on your way here?"
Kila pursed her lips at his rebuff. She had started seeing a new side to the Queen, one she was sure Alistair would like if she could just convince him to try. But pulling a stubborn mule doesn't get a person very far either. She sighed, letting it go for now, "I was actually coming to see Wynne."
The pair relaxed and settled in while they caught up on recent news. Alistair's tour had been uneventful, including no Darkspawn incidents. Ever since the Blight, Darkspawn numbers had dwindled, but there were still reports of unorganized roaming bands of them.
Finally, Alistair broke out of the pleasantries and silently stared at the woman across the table until she finally shifted uncomfortably in her chair, "So…do you plan on telling me what's going on here, or do I need to force it out of you? And don't even think about lying to me. I can tell you know."
Kila's eyebrow gracefully arched as she measured her friend. When did we get so clever? She had many questions for him, but suddenly her mouth felt full of sand as the enormity of the situation hit her again. "Why were you coming to see Wynne? It wasn't just social was it?" he pressed.
Words are simple bits of air pushed forth from the mouth. And yet, these particular words sat heavily in her throat, quietly strangling her. The walls were closing in. Her palms itched with sweat. Abruptly she stood up from her chair and marched towards the door, "Forget it, this was a mistake."
With surprising speed, Alistair blocked her exit and gently grabbed her by the arm, "Oh, I don't think so. You don't honestly expect me to let you just walk out after you piqued my interest?" He tried desperately to joke through the sudden, foreign, tension.
Kila jerked her arm away and took a step back. "No, there's no point in talking to you. You have already been wrong in saying this couldn't happen so I don't know what other specks of brilliant misinformation I was hoping for by coming to you."
Alistair's eyed widened in confusion at the vague accusation, "I what? What did I say couldn't happen?"
Raising her chin upwards, she looked directly into his eyes, "You said Wardens can't have children. You said it never happens and the only ones who have children are those who had them before they joined."
Instinctively, Alistair defended himself, "I did not! I said it's difficult for Wardens to have children, and the only people I personally knew that had children were from before the Joining. I never said it was impossible! According to Duncan, it has happened."
Angrily, she crossed her arms in front of her and looked away, but didn't argue. Sometimes the mind remembers what it will.
Finally, the thought struck him and a smile burst out, "Wait…is this your way of telling me that you are going to have a child?"
Her only reply was returning her gaze to him. It was so cold, but Alistair seemed to take no notice. "Oh, that's wonderful news! Who would have thought that you'd beat me to having an heir," he teased.
"Well if you'd spend more than two minutes with your wife, it wouldn't be a problem!" Kila snapped, "The whole country thinks you're so wonderful with all these good-will tours when the truth is you're just running away like a scared little boy! The worst part is, if you'd just give her a chance you might actually discover you don't want to run away."
Alistair blinked for a moment, as his amused expression turned to a dumbfounded one. Finally he frowned halfway between serious and jest, "Hey, what are you yelling at me for? I didn't do anything. So…as King I say you can't do that anymore." Stern silence. "Look, why don't you just save us…well me…a lot of headache here and tell me what's going on."
Turning her back to him, Kila lowered herself into a chair. She sighed, "I'm sorry Alistair, I don't mean to be so…" The sentence hung unfinished and she moved on, "I came to you, instead of Wynne, to find out if you know anything about Grey Wardens and their offspring. Has there been anything recorded?"
Thoughtfully, Alistair leaned against the wall and reflected. "There must be, but not that I've seen myself. So much was lost here in Ferelden, but I imagine Orlais would have records. What information are you looking for…exactly?"
He had never seen her look so small. Her head proudly remained raised, but her slight shoulders began to slump. This shrinking frame was a stark comparison to the fierce woman he knew. With a disconnection to her words, she simply stated, "Alistair, I am tainted."
Blankly, he stared at the back of her. Continuing, her voice steadily lost its commanding tone, "Alistair, what if I am with child? I am tainted." She paused. "What would that do to the child?"
Finally, the understanding drained a bit of colour from his face. That thought had never occurred to him, "I…I don't know what to say. Duncan never mentioned any…issues with the few known children."
"Which were likely sired by Warden men," she interjected.
Helplessly he shrugged. "I don't know but…there aren't many female Grey Wardens," he reluctantly agreed.
"Do you think it would be different for a woman?" She asked quietly, "The baby spends all this time…fermenting…in the taint. How could that not…" Taking a deep breath, she finished, "What if I am just a glorified broodmother?"
Alistair couldn't help but chuckle, "Kila, I don't have all the answers, but I know it doesn't work like that!"
"Ruck then." She drowned his light words with ones of despair.
Ruck. A name Alistair hadn't heard in so long. Her brief time spent with the tainted dwarf in the Deep Roads still continued to haunt her even after all this time. That name sat heavy in his mind, pondering the likelihood that her concerns were valid. It was not a trail of thought he could fully go down right now.
"What does Zevran have to say about all this?" Alistair asked. Kila's head finally dropped as her eyes fell to the table. Her transformation from proud warrior to a woman in anguish was complete.
Alistair had seen her bloodied and bruised, her skin split wide open and sewn shut again, her body tossed to the ground like a lifeless ragdoll. And yet, through all of those times, he had never seen her look so broken. Finally, he noticed the quiver to her shoulders. She was crying.
He stiffened as he stood facing her back, trying to decide what to do. Quickly, he moved in, gently turning her towards him as he wrapped his arms around her. There was nothing more he could say beyond hollow words of encouragement, and they both knew this.
Instead of spewing meaningless words, he simply held her as she finally cried.
