My apologies for the unscheduled posting delay! I blame the snow ... the muse clearly lost her snowshoes and couldn't get to me. Yeah, that's the story. I'm getting back on track now, though - many thanks to Shakespira for the support and encouragement! And thanks to my oh-so-patient beta, WellspringCD, for putting up with me and keeping me on track! Two notes: I think we're going to try to stick with Wednesdays as update day for a while; and in case you're curious, I have no plans to tie anything from Dragon Age II into this story. If that changes, I'll let you know!
19 August:
Sooner than Alistair had thought possible, Erlina was poking her head into Anora's room. "I have brought the healer, Your Majesty. May I bring him in?"
Alistair looked questioningly at Anora. She sat up straight, patting her hair. He watched the royal mask come over her face—placid, unflappable, polite, and pleasant. The healer might be about to look under Anora's skirt, but she wasn't about to allow him to see inside her. Anora nodded to Erlina. "You may bring the healer now. Thank you."
Erlina pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped in, followed by a brawny bald man in regular working-man's clothes. He looked more like a blacksmith than a mage. At Alistair's evident surprise, the man smiled. "It doesn't pay to look like a mage in Ferelden, Your Majesty." He removed his cap respectfully, looking at Anora. "My queen, I am Thaddeus. Sanga sent me along to look after you. Your maid says you are with child?"
Anora nodded.
"And you're bleeding?"
Another nod, this one a bit shakier than the first.
"I see." Thaddeus approached the bed. "With Your Majesties' permission, I'll need to look at and touch certain areas in order to conduct my examination." He looked pointedly at Alistair, still sitting on the edge of the bed and holding Anora's hand.
"Oh! Right." Alistair let go of Anora and stood up hastily, moving out of the mage's way.
Thaddeus arranged Anora more comfortably in the bed, and for several minutes the room was silent as he felt and probed her stomach and genitals with both hand and magical sense, making small "hm" sounds. He asked her a few questions about the bleeding and other symptoms, listening intently to her answers. At last he straightened. "You'll be glad to know that I do sense the second heartbeat—you have not lost the child."
"Oh, thank the Maker," Alistair breathed. He took Anora's hand in his, pressing a kiss on her fingers, and she smiled at him, her blue eyes clear of shadows for the first time since he'd returned from Amaranthine.
Thaddeus watched the moment, waiting until the King and Queen were looking at him again. "I recommend limiting your activities for a time, Your Highness. You don't need to remain in bed—I don't think that would be healthy, either—but nothing more strenuous than a mild stroll about the garden, please. Some slight bleeding in early pregnancy is not uncommon. Should the bleeding become heavier, or especially if you see a noticeable change in color or consistency, please send for me immediately." He looked at Alistair. "I would like to remain here at the Palace to look after her, but I have responsibilities elsewhere—in addition to the Pearl, I am making daily calls on several refugee camps. It is a delicate balance, trying to heal where I can without subjecting myself to the scrutiny of those who were once Templars. I can recommend a midwife who could keep an eye on the Queen during her pregnancy, if you'd like."
Alistair shook his head. "I have sent for a trusted healer, and expect her response any day. It worries me that you still feel you have to hide, though. You should be safe in Denerim. If anyone tries to interfere with you, you may tell them you are under the protection of the King."
Thaddeus's eyes met Alistair's squarely. "There are those out there who wouldn't stop to ask, Your Majesty. Ask yourself—why aren't there more mages in Denerim?"
"If you have information …" Alistair began, but Thaddeus cut him off.
"Nothing definite, sire. I simply know that people I used to count as colleagues have vanished without a trace."
Alistair was about to press further, but he caught Erlina's eye, and the maid looked pointedly toward Anora. Getting the message, Alistair said, "Thank you, Thaddeus. Whatever your fee, I'll gladly—"
"No need, Your Majesty." Thaddeus smiled at the Queen. "It was my privilege, and my pleasure. Do call if you need anything."
"Thank you, Thaddeus." Anora smiled gently at him, and the mage bowed and left the room. Erlina, at a subtle signal from her mistress, followed, leaving the monarchs alone.
"Anora, I am so sorry." The words tumbled from Alistair's lips unexpectedly. "Everything you said was right. I'm a cad and a fool and I'm incredibly lucky to be married to you. I'm going to do my best to make sure you know that. Always."
Her heart tenderized by the emotions of the day, Anora couldn't retain her usual reserve. "Alistair," she whispered, pulling him closer, nestling into the warmth of his arms. "I—" But even now, those words trembled unspoken on her lips. She simply wasn't ready to be that vulnerable in front of him. "Thank you."
"For what?" He rested his cheek on her hair.
"For … being here. And holding me. And not … not m-making me feel like a f-failure." She sniffled, remembering the couple of false alarms she'd had when she was married to Cailan. He had tried to be comforting when they turned out to be nothing more than delayed cycles, but empathy had never been part of Cailan's nature, and he had never been able to disguise his disappointment and irritation. It had always been very clear to Anora that Cailan regarded the heir issue as Anora's problem and didn't want to be bothered with it once he'd created one. Alistair, on the other hand, had rushed immediately to her side and been concerned for her, for her feelings; had been willing to share in the disappointment and heartache as well as the fun part. Anora would never forget that.
Alistair tilted her head up so he could look into her eyes. "You are not a failure. You are a highly intelligent, remarkably capable woman who has been the rock holding this nation up since my father died. You have proved your value over and over again. Yes, we want an heir. Yes, we want this baby to be born healthy and strong so we can love him or her. But Anora, whether you can produce children or not has nothing to do with your success." He grinned suddenly. "We'll have to measure your success by whether you keep me from destroying the country with my ineptitude."
She chuckled, and Alistair felt a glow of happiness at the sound. "I have my work cut out for me, then, don't I?" At peace in a way she had never expected to be, Anora snuggled close to Alistair, and fell into an exhausted but restful sleep to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
21 August:
The ocean breezes that wafted over Highever were a blessed relief. Judith thought half the dust from here to Denerim must be sticking to her neck. She devoutly hoped Daniel had thought to take a room at an inn somewhere—she couldn't imagine meeting anyone, much less his mother, in this condition.
Once they entered the city, Fergus pulled to a stop. "I think this is where I leave you," he said. He smiled kindly at Judith. "Good luck to you."
"Where will you go?" she asked.
His face darkened, and she knew the question had been too abrupt. "There's an inn—the innkeeper knew my family. They keep a room for me, so I don't have to— I'm sure there will be quite a few requests and petitions waiting there for me to deal with. Daniel, day after tomorrow all right? To go … there?"
"Of course."
"All right. I'll meet you at the inn. And Daniel? Thank you." Fergus turned his horse, heading down the broad main street of the city. Daniel was heartened to see how many of the citizens turned to smile and cheer for the young Teyrn. The support of his people would be good for Fergus, remind him that although he'd lost much, there were still people who believed in and cared for him.
He turned to his wife. "Are you ready?"
"Um?" She looked at him, wide-eyed, one hand straying to the wisps of hair hanging around her face.
"Don't worry. She'll love you!" he said cheerfully, completely missing her concern about her appearance. She always looked beautiful to him. He turned the horse, leading her down a cobble-stoned street.
Judith wasn't so sure. With a last attempt to push her hair into a passably decent style, she followed Kylon's horse, wishing hers hadn't suddenly learned to trot so fast.
They stopped in front of a small whitewashed house at the edge of town. It was neat and tidy and well-kept and fairly shouted a domesticity Judith knew she could never attain. Her stomach churned and she desperately wanted to vomit. And then shower. And then have a couple of barrels of Oghren's ale. Daniel was already swinging down from his horse, calling out cheerily, "Hello, the house!" He came over to Judith's horse, helping her get down. Her knees were shaky underneath her, although she wasn't sure if that was nerves or the effect of having spent the day on horseback.
"There you two are!" a bluff, hearty voice called out. Judith looked over the back of the horse and saw a man with a neat blond beard and twinkling brown eyes coming out of the house.
"Lloyd!" Daniel smiled at the man, leading Judith around the horse and toward the house. "Lloyd, this is my bride, Judith. Judith, my stepfather, Lloyd."
"Please. Stepfather is such an … old word." Lloyd grinned. "And in the face of such beauty, I am as young as the spring." He bowed to Judith.
"He likes to think of himself as a poet," Daniel said to Judith, shaking Lloyd's hand. "Where's Mama?"
"Around back in the garden. Shall we?"
"No need." A husky voice startled Judith, and she saw a very small woman come around the corner of the house, walking with obvious difficulty. She leaned heavily on a cane that thumped on the cobblestones as she moved.
"Mama!" Daniel moved forward, leaning over to hug the little woman. Judith looked at her tall, strapping husband and then at the small woman in surprise. They did have the same dark red hair, but that was the only resemblance she could see.
"So it takes you all this time to make a short trip to Highever?"
"I've been busy," Daniel protested. "There was a Blight, and then the Arlhood, and the wedding, and …"
"Nobles," she scoffed. "They're all the same. Too busy for the little people." But she smiled, and Judith could see that the woman was extremely proud and fond of her son. "Now, where's this Hero of Ferelden?"
Judith stepped forward, tugging at the skirt of her armor. "Um, pleased to meet you," she said.
"Oh?" Daniel's mother frowned, moving closer to Judith, her dark eyes searching Judith's face. "Not sure I can say the same."
Startled, Judith looked up at Daniel. Why hadn't he prepared her, if his mother wasn't happy with their marriage? He didn't seem concerned, and she looked back down at her mother-in-law, who was smiling suddenly.
"I'm delighted!" said Daniel's mother heartily. "Now, I want you to call me Elda, and I want to know all about you and whether my son's taking good care of you. Do you mind?" She gestured to Judith's arm. Judith held it out and Elda leaned on it as the two of them executed a series of ungainly half-steps toward the door of the house. "You have to forgive my Daniel," Elda said. "He's been a soldier so long he doesn't know what matters to a woman." Her eyes lingered on Judith's sweaty face and unkempt hair and Judith blushed. "Let's get you inside and I'll have Lloyd bring you in some hot water and we'll have a nice long talk when you've had a bath and some dinner."
And before she knew it, Judith had bathed and dressed and was eating a delicious meal of some kind of meat in a rich sauce with fresh-grown vegetables and crusty bread. "This is wonderful," she said between mouthfuls.
"Lloyd's doing," Elda said, smiling at her husband. "I don't get around well enough to do a lot of cooking anymore, so he's taken to it."
"Well, ser, if you ever tire of being a butcher, I have a keep full of hungry Wardens who would consider you the Hero of Ferelden if you could feed them like this," Judith said.
Lloyd laughed. "I'll keep it in mind."
"You see yourself staying on as Warden Commander?" Elda's tone was light and curious, but Judith heard the question as a challenge.
"It's not exactly optional. Being a Grey Warden is for life." Even to her own ears, Judith sounded defensive, and she felt Daniel stiffen slightly next to her.
"That's not how she meant it, sweetheart," he said.
"Oh." Judith looked down at her plate.
Elda set her cup down with a loud clink that startled everyone. "Boys, why don't you go take a look at the new meat locker? I know Lloyd's going to want to tell you all about it, Daniel. My daughter-in-law and I will clear the table." It was not a request. Daniel and Lloyd exchanged a look and got up from the table, almost knocking their chairs over in their haste to leave the room.
Judith stood up and started to clear the table. "Sit down," Elda snapped. "Are you always so literal?"
Obediently, Judith sat down again. "Yes, I think I am. In the Tower, when they say they want you to clear the table, they mean 'do it right now, mage, or else'."
"What was the Tower like? Did you—did you know my daughter?" Elda asked, whatever else she'd wanted to discuss forgotten for the moment.
"No, I didn't. One of the other Grey Wardens, Anders, knew her. He was with Melanie when she escaped."
"Escaped?"
"Didn't Daniel tell you? Melanie escaped the Tower years ago."
"Where did she go?"
"We don't know. I want to try to find her for Daniel. And for you."
Elda nodded slowly. "I would appreciate that. Tell me, Judith—why did you marry my son?"
"Because—because I love him," Judith said, uncomfortable sharing her feelings so openly.
"And you choose to live in separate cities because?"
"It's our duty." Judith shrugged.
"What about family? Isn't that more important than duty?"
Judith began to bristle, but she looked across the table at the worn, lined face of Daniel's mother and realized the question wasn't a criticism, but rather the wishful thinking of an aging woman who wanted to see her only son happy. Twisting her hands uncomfortably in her lap, Judith said, "About that. Family. I— I'm afraid that isn't really a consideration. Daniel and I will never— I mean, I can't— Grey Wardens aren't fertile," she finished in a rush, her cheeks flaming.
Elda nodded sadly. "I see."
"Truthfully, I think this bothers Daniel more than it does me," Judith said. "In the Tower—Well, mages occasionally have children, but the children are taken away. It's said they're given to the Chantry. There are whispers that some become Templars—the very people charged with keeping the mages in line might well be the children of mages. It's— I never would have allowed myself to become pregnant."
"My dear," Elda said, "that is … a disappointment, to be sure. I had hoped to hold a grandchild at least once. But children are not all that marriage is about, of course. You will have to excuse me if I worry for my son's happiness and well-being—the two of you are in an awkward situation."
"I know," Judith said. "I keep hoping things will slow down, the crises will end, so there's time for Daniel and I to decide how we're going to make this work."
Elda grasped Judith's wrist, leaning across the table and holding Judith's gaze with her own. "We both know that day never comes. There's always a crisis. Don't put off your lives waiting until there's time for happiness—make your happiness with whatever time you can find. You never know if it's all you'll have."