It curved, so perfectly and so smoothly she couldn't help but softly run her fingertips over the expanding skin. The fourth month had brought an end to the sickness, the constant waves of bile and near inability to keep anything down. Now it was just a small growth, a sign of life like that of a farmer who had just planted his years first crop. Her legacy was alive and flourishing and she would do anything to keep that small being safe and nourished, while she carried it and once it opened its eyes to the endless skies of Ferelden.

Aurora found a happiness, a newly discovered thing which had deserted her for a time that was neither in quaintness nor in an eternity. It was a feeling similar to the first time Alistair had kissed her, his calloused hand tilting her chin up and his eyes so serene that in that very moment all was forgotten. Ever pain drenched memory simply evaporated and rose freely, undignified and gravity deafeningly into the heavens and far away from the chambers of her heart.

Sadness still dripped through, coated in loneliness and penetrating so deeply that for a moment she felt lost with herself. Often, her imagination escaped to a place in which her and Alistair had never taken different pathways. Her creativity painted an ideology in which that night, the night all had been lost between the two of them, had never occurred. She had slept in her lovers arms, cradled in his safety, and when they awoke he struck down the man that had harmed both of their souls so deeply. The reality was though that it was not like this at all and she could not remold the clay of life, for it had long since dried into permanency. In this she wept, wept for her child who would know no Father, not like she had in the safety of her home with late night stories in front of fire places and secret laughs in quiet libraries.

Time did not stop for the feelings of one woman though, and she was forced to live her life in the state that the Maker had intended. In the mornings she washed her face in a basin that sat in the kitchen, then rubbed elfroot oil into her expanding belly. Being an expert in poisons, she was also equipped with the knowledge of healing and started scavenging the surrounding forests for roots and creating her own little garden along the way. After ensuring what she took would not harm her unborn child, she would make tea with what ever plants she had harvested and would drink the mug gone.

Sitting within the comfort of her newly made and cushioned rocking chair she would read books and write in her journal, all the while scratching Dream's head. They would go on walks after lunch, exploring the depths of the vast vegetation much like they had done when she was barely thirteen and her mabari hound still in the process of being house broken.

It was at a point that these daily things had formed into a ritual, a habit in which was repeated over and over. By the third week, the pair was nestled into their favorite spot of the forest; beneath a large tree that stretched its branched to the heavens and held a crook in the middle just big enough for Aurora to sit within. They would watch the fast moving river, the occasional bird soaring down and carrying off with a silver bellied fish. This day was spiced with something different though, something that would break their heavily broken in schedules.

"You always did remind me of a painting," a voice stirred her thoughts then promptly dumped then on the ground. Aurora immediately rose, taking on the position of a rogue, a placement that came as naturally as breathing, a dagger already in her hand. Then, suddenly and all at once, everything in her softened to the point of near melting. "Zev", she dropped the metallic sharpened object of doom and ran to him, immediately hiding her head in his chest.

"I have missed you too, Rora," He wrapped his tanned and muscled arms around her, planting a kiss upon her autumn toned locks. Dream barked happily, his tongue waving around in a fashion that beheld similarity to a drunk sailor.

"I didn't think I would ever see you again!", She looked up at him, blue eyes wide and expansive. He took a minute to admire her facial features, the external and internal beauty that truly was Aurora Cousland.

"Please, you do not think you can rid yourself of an assassin so simply? Tsk tsk, my dear," He smiled and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, "While I did of course have my own visit planned for you, I was sent by your brother."

Her face lit up, full lips moving into a wide smile, "He is back, then? My brother has returned from his voyage on the sea?"

"Yes, and he wishes dearly that his kid sister would return to Highever quickly. He is," Zevran stopped for a moment, glancing away as if to rethink his words,"Worried about you, Rora. We all are, after with what happened between you and Alistair."

Looking down, the young woman rubbed her fingers over wrists and frowned, "I should not have pushed you all away. There was just such a void within me, I don't even know how to ask for forgiveness."

"You don't have to. Sometimes you have to deal with pain on your own, at least for a bit." He smiled, "Come on, I already have a horse ready. We can ride off to Highever, it is not that far. It'll be just like the good old days, just less bloody and no death constantly snapping at our heels."/p

She smiled at this, but then remembered that she was carrying a very tiny babe within her that would probably not appreciate the constant up and down gambling that came with directly riding a horse. "I don't believe that would be in the best interest of my current state." The way she said it was hushed and she refused to meet his eyes when the words left her mouth, already the acquaintance of a blush on her cheeks.

"Your...current state?" The elf's face was slightly crinkled, trying to figure what in the holy Maker the woman meant.

"It seems one of my final encounters with our dear friend Alistair left me...carrying his child." Months had been born into the lapses of time since she had last spoken his name out loud. It was like the world suddenly felt foreign on her lips, different and somehow twisted and wrong. How had the most beautiful idiom become the hardest to speak?

Zevran's eyes scanned her body, stopping on the slightly increased abdomen. "That bastard."

"He doesn't know, Zev. It is better hat he does not. I do not want our child facing rejection. No babe should have to face a Father who does not believe them to be their own."

The tattooed elf shook his head, letting out a low whistle. "My dear, you are sounding more and more like an Antivian royal everyday." The response he received was a smack to the gut, to which he simply grinned in attempt to use his handsome features to melt the woman he had not been able to crack the chastity belt lock of since day one.

"You're an ass." She smiled though, one of the few genuine she had experienced in what seemed like ages.

"But a nice ass, no?" He smiled and kissed her knuckles, then giving some deserved attention to her mabari. "I suppose we will have to find you a less bumpy way to travel, then. Like a cushioned chariot of gold."

"All the cushions you can find."