Aurora sighed, staring at the pale parchment paper laid before her but making no moves to write words with her overly inked quill. Writing to Wynne made her nervous, nervous that when she arrived something would not be right with her child, or that she would at once make her tell the Father that he was, well, to be a Father. She dearly hoped that the older woman, who had become much like a Mother figure to her in the passing of her own, would understand. Finally taking a deep breath in, she summoned all the courage she could find with her and began to write,

Dear Wynne,

While I wish I could say I am writing to you simply to state a simple greeting and question you of how the Tower fairs, I am afraid there is a completely different matter at hand. A month or so after we ended the Blight, I began to have symptoms that finally became explained; I am with child, about five months. Being as this is an impossibility, I really was never supposed to be able to conceive, I would like to request your presence. There is no better Healer in all of Thedas, nor would I rather have any other woman at my side, save for my own Mother, during this time. I have enclosed payments for your travels here, my former home of Highever, and I hope to see you soon.

Your favorite Warden, Aurora.

Letting all the air she had been forcefully stuffing in her lungs, she sat back in her chair and looked at the ceiling, the same ceiling she had stared upon for years in her childhood when rest would not come. It had seemed that after Howe had taken over everything her family had once owned, he had not even had the castle lived in. He simply slaughtered every inhabitant and rose his own status, stating what had happened as a great tragedy and nothing more. Even his death memories of him still haunted her, plagued the back of her mind and twisted her emotions into painful things that demanded to be felt. Only one soul knew of her past with Howe, the only man she had trusted and loved enough to allow entry into her heart. Maker, did she miss those arms and comforting midnight kisses. The way he would pull her close when the nightmares struck, the only witness to their love the silent and forever blinking stars. If they could talk, could they remind her of the fondest of times with her long gone lover? How many secrets did the night sky hold?

Her belly had seemed to double in size in the week she spent at Highever, growing in a roundness that now was instantly recognizable as a hint at flourishing new life. Sometimes her little miracle would kick hard, sending its Mother jumping and nearly dropping whatever it was she had been doing prior. The favorite thing though, a memory she would hold near and dear to her heart for the rest of her life, was the little responsive kicks she would get by pressing at where she felt her little one. Yearning to hold her baby already, she would ask one of the servant woman to bring her fabric and other sewing things from the markets and day dream of little fingers and toes while designing little sleeping gowns and mittens. He or she would be born in the winter, and she wanted to make sure they had the most warmth possible.

A knock on her door moved her away from the oak desk, opening to see who was there. Fergus greeted her with a smile, "There you are. Care to go for a walk?" He held his arm out, to which she wrapped a hand around his elbow and continued with him out the door.

"I feel huge", she looked down, seeing only the dark purple fabric of her dress rather than her toes; dresses had seemed a lot more comfortable than pants, lately.

"Oh please, you just look like you've stolen one of the smaller sized pumpkins from the market and shoved it under your gown."

"Well this is the heaviest damn small pumpkin I've ever carried." She smiled though, settling her hands on her belly.

"Mother would be so happy...seeing you like this. Maybe not the unwed part, but part, but..." He smiled sadly, eyes distant with graying memories.

"I remember how she was with Oriana, always asking if the baby was kicking. Oh, Fergus, I'm so sorry", she froze, seeming horrified with herself.

"No, don't apologize. They may no longer be with us, but we can always keep them alive through words. Oren would have been ecstatic to finally have a playmate, he was practically begging us for a little brother by the time he could talk," He paused for a moment," I miss him, his play fighting with wooden swords and mispronunciation of "truthiness". If he had known his Auntie was a Grey Warden, he would have been asking you for a wrapped griffon under the Christmas tree."

Aurora smiled at his, her chest aching to hug her little nephew once more. "He was the kindest little soul I ever met."

"And the bravest, he was born to be a warrior, a knight perhaps. He deserved so much more than...than what he got." Fergus's voice cracked, giving away at the sorrow he had held in so long. Even if he had not let it destroy him, it still stung him deeply.

"Fergus...would you help me, with the nursery? I really have no clue what I'm doing..." She looked at him, hoping her question would not backfire into more sadness.

"You know, I always thought you'd be asking me to be the dummy of one of your sword practices, not an architect."

"What can I say? You just scream, Orlasian Designer to me."

He laughed at this, "Well, we'll have to have a bassinet made. Not that the babe will be in there nearly as much as it is in bed with you, that I promise, but it is nice to have one on hand. You really can never go wrong with a rocking chair...wait, does this mean you'll be staying here?"

"Well of course. Where else would I raise a Cousland?"

"Oh thank the Maker, truth be told I was a bit worried about how lonely it would be here with you." He breathed out, a sigh of relief.

"I would never leave you alone here, Fergus, even if I wasn't pregnant."

"Speaking of which, does Alistair know?"

"No, he doesn't. I'm afraid he'll question the child's paternity, after what happened with Loghain."

"Aurora, I know you have no desire to speak with the man and I don't think anyone can blame you, but this is his child as well."

"I'm well aware of that, how could I not be? But I do not want her to face the rejection of her Father, I don't want her to feel that pain. No child should grow up like that, Fergus. No baby should feel unloved by one of their parents."

He nodded slowly, "I know, but Aurora, this could be the only heir of Ferelden, the only hope of a future King or Queen this country has. Do you really want to have to tell this child last minute someday when Ferleden is scraping around the barrel for some long lost cousin to seat on the throne? We both know how that felt for Alistair."

"I know, I know. I'm, I'm scared Fergus. Scared of seeing him, scared of hurting again, I'm so damn terrified. I can handle him rejecting me, it hurts, but I can take it. Rejecting our child though, that would hurt me so much more."

"You know that Zevran and I will be with you every step of the way, Aurora." He put an arm on her shoulder, "You will never have to go through anything alone."

She looked up at him, chewing her lower lip and finally nodding, "Okay. I'll tell him."