A/N: First of all, my belated apologies for any confusion regarding the time jumps in this fic! Since this is more a series of loosely interconnected moments rather than a story with one continuous plot, sometimes I take the liberty of jumping ahead a year or a few, which is what happened in the last chapter. There will probably be some more of that later on, so I'll try to do a better job making it clear in future chapters.

On that note, this chapter takes place almost directly after the previous one, so no fast-forwarding this time! Again, sorry for the confusion.


Delilah Howe wasn't quite sure what to make of her new sister-in-law.

Nathaniel's disposition had improved since her sudden arrival, that much was certain. The deep, troubled lines had eased from his face, and his lengthy despondent silences disappeared, reverting to his usual stoic-yet-sensible demeanor. He had never been an overly demonstrative man, but Delilah knew him well enough to catch the subtle hints of relief and affection as she watched him interact with his wife. Each small gesture—the softening of his eyes when he glanced at her, the brush of his fingers on her arm—spoke volumes to Delilah's sharp, sisterly eye.

Velanna, on the other hand, was like a closed and locked door.

She stood near the kitchen table, her posture so stiff it looked to Delilah as though she might fall over in a brisk wind. One hand was curled around a glass half-full of water—she'd refused anything stronger—while the other kept straying toward a nearby chair, as though she wanted to relax but was unsure if she was welcome to touch the furniture. Her gaze was riveted on the floor in front of her, where Nathaniel sat cross-legged with his nephew, helping him set up his toy soldiers for what looked to be a battle of great importance.

A shriek of childish laughter came from the floor as the boy bashed two of the small figures together, and something unidentifiable flashed across Velanna's face. Delilah bit her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth.

The elven woman had been nothing but stiffly polite ever since her arrival, but it was clear she was ill at ease. Her features seemed permanently frozen in a neutral expression so controlled it could only be a mask, and she'd automatically recoiled whenever anyone but Nathaniel came within an arm's length of her. Delilah found herself unsure whether to feel sympathy for Velanna's discomfort, or to wonder if Nathaniel had taken leave of his senses to fall for someone so cold.

Velanna's expression flickered again as she continued to watch the impromptu toy battle, and Delilah drew a deep breath, stepping forward to seize the opening.

"You look rather quizzical," she said, keeping her voice light and unassuming. It was a stretch of the truth at best, but it would serve as an inoffensive conversation opener. She hoped.

Velanna gave a visible start, her head snapping around. Her eyes looked almost owlish, too big for her slender face.

"What do you mean?" she demanded. A light pink flush colored her ears almost instantly, and Delilah took care not to let her eyes linger on the pointed tips.

"When you were watching them," she replied, trying a smile as she gestured toward Nathaniel and her son.

"Oh," Velanna said. "Well, it's…there aren't many children at the Keep."

"I can imagine," Delilah nodded. "And I suppose even if there were, he surely wouldn't get down on the floor and play with them. It might ruin his dark and brooding image." She chuckled. "This must be a new side of him for you."

To her surprise, Velanna's ears flushed an even darker red, and she realized too late that the statement could be interpreted as a criticism, a smug reminder that you may be his wife, but I'm his sister. I know him better than you.

She drew a sharp breath, opening her mouth to clarify her meaning, but Velanna spoke before she could form the words.

"I suppose it is," the elf murmured. Her voice was soft, but not angry, and Delilah let out a quiet sigh of relief.

The silence that followed was reasonably comfortable, broken by occasional playful noises from the floor. To Delilah's pleasant surprise, Velanna seemed to relax a little, her fingers loosening their death grip on the glass and her shoulders lowering a fraction.

Encouraged by the signs, Delilah wet her lips, looking back and forth between her sister-in-law and her son before she spoke again.

"I know it's really none of my business," she began, "but I can't help but be curious, and I suppose it's an affectionate sister's job to be nosy, isn't it?" She gave another chuckle, hoping it didn't sound too nervous. "I was wondering…are you and my brother planning on starting a family? Maybe not right now, of course—I know you're both very busy—but in the foreseeable future, perhaps? I'm sure my boy would love to have a little cousin as a playmate," she finished, sending an indulgent smile in her son's direction.

Velanna grew very still, the tension returning to her limbs, and Delilah felt a cold feeling settle in the pit of her stomach. She braced herself for the elf to snap at her, to say no, it wasn't any of her business, and she could go stick her nose somewhere—

"We can't," Velanna said.

Delilah blinked, her tumbling thoughts screeching to a halt. In the back of her mind, she realized her face was likely frozen somewhere between a polite smile and pure surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"Grey Wardens can't have children together," Velanna went on. Her mouth was pinched, but her voice remained even. "At least not without magic. Or a miracle. It's…difficult to explain why. Just call it a side effect, I suppose."

"Oh, Maker." Delilah raised a hand to her mouth, the chill in her stomach turning to a horrid churning sensation. "I—I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"It is what it is." Velanna folded her arms, a muscle twitching in her cheek. "Nathaniel has been less than forthcoming about what exactly the life of a Grey Warden entails, I see."

Delilah spread her hands, her mind still whirling. "He never tells me anything. I try to refrain from prying, but—" She broke off with an agitated sigh. "I just can't help but worry about him."

She found herself surprised yet again when a pang of emotion crossed Velanna's face, making her appear almost wistful.

"He is lucky to have you," she said, her voice soft. She looked down at the tabletop, her distant gaze speaking of old and painful memories.

"I…" Delilah cast around a moment, searching for a suitable response. "Thank you," she finally said, though the words seemed somehow inadequate.

Velanna only nodded, setting her glass down.

"If you'll excuse me," she said, her voice still holding the same muted tone. "I need some air."

"Of course," Delilah said. She stepped aside, watching the other woman stride across the room and disappear through the front door.


Dusk was beginning to fall by the time Nathaniel stepped outside, transforming the sky into a canvas of reds and purples streaked with the sun's dying rays. He found Velanna watching the sunset by the edge of the small garden, her palms propped on the fence post. Her head turned slightly as he approached, eyes flicking to his before returning to the horizon.

"Everything all right?" Nathaniel asked, keeping his voice low.

She nodded. "I just needed to get out for a little while."

He reached out to rest his hands on the fence next to hers, their fingers just barely touching. "Delilah seemed to think she had upset you."

"No. I've just been thinking." She tilted her head up to look at him, the fading sunlight glinting in her hair. "Does it bother you that we'll never have children?"

Nathaniel blinked, his hands dropping from the fence as he turned to face her. "Is that what the two of you were talking about?"

"Yes."

"I see." He crossed his arms over his chest, remembering his nephew's unruly mop of hair and quick laughter. "It would be a lie to say that I never think about it. Had the Howes remained nobles, I suppose I would have had a duty to carry on the family name. No chance of that anymore, what with my brother dead, my being a Grey Warden, and Delilah's son taking her husband's name. But there are more important things to consider than family legacies, now."

Velanna was watching him closely. "Such as?"

"That 'Grey Warden' isn't the best career to mix with raising children," he said. "Between the taint, the Calling, and thousands of encounters with darkspawn, the chances of the child prematurely losing one or both parents would be much higher than most. Even if it were possible, I don't know if it would be fair to put children through that."

Velanna nodded, her eyes following the sun's path as it dipped toward the horizon. "True. An orphan's life isn't an easy one."

Nathaniel leaned back against the fence next to her, peering down at her face. "You seem unusually reticent this evening. You have opinions on this subject, I'm sure."

Her eyes sharpened on his face. "I'm not sure if they're opinions you'll like."

He laughed aloud at that. "At what point in the history of our relationship has that ever stopped you?"

Velanna raised her chin, trying to suppress a smile and failing. "I'm just giving you fair warning!" She paused, expression sobering. "I don't want another fight."

"Nor do I." He leaned down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Very well. Consider me properly warned."

She blew out a deep breath. "I always thought I would have children. Growing up, it wasn't even in question—it can't be, for a Dalish, because we're so few in number. I used to envision myself passing my heritage on to my children, teaching them all our ways, our history and traditions. Part of me will always regret that I lost that chance when I became a Grey Warden. But the rest of me is relieved."

His gray eyes were steady on her face. "Because I'm human."

She nodded and looked past him, as though the sunset had all of a sudden grown immeasurably more fascinating. "I love you," she said, her tone almost grudging, "but I could never be with you if there was a chance we could have a child together. The taboo against interbreeding with humans is too ingrained to overcome. If I gave birth to a human child, I—" Her face twisted into an expression that was equal parts pain and revulsion. "I would never be able to look another elf in the eye again."

Nathaniel's face remained impassive aside from a quirk of one eyebrow. "Then the Grey Warden taint is a blessing in disguise, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is." She squared her shoulders, absently letting a flicker of magic run down one wrist, the nervous habit clashing with her defiant stance. "Does that make you angry?"

"Well, I doubt any man particularly enjoys hearing that his wife is repulsed by the thought of bearing his child," Nathaniel said dryly. "But no, I'm not angry. I knew about your culture before I married you."

"Good." She relaxed visibly, stepping forward to lean on the fencepost. Nathaniel slid his arm around her waist, and she allowed him to pull her close against his side.

"It's funny, isn't it?" she murmured after a moment. "Both of us so far removed from the paths we thought our lives would take."

Nathaniel smiled. "They say the Maker works in mysterious ways."

She snorted. "Then he has a twisted sense of humor, this Maker of yours."

"Indeed." His fingers trailed a slow, warm path up and down her back. "But somehow, I don't mind."