She was so pale. So very, very pale. Aedan had only really seen that kind of pallor on someone with battle wounds - it seemed utterly wrong that his wife could look so ill and yet technically not be dying.

"I'm sorry, your majesty," the healer was saying, wringing his hands. Aedan felt like growling at the man. He had sent to Nathaniel to have Anders come - the former apostate for all he grated across every single nerve in Aedan's body, was twice the healer this man from the Tower was. But Nathaniel had sent an apologetic note back - Anders was traveling Ferelden looking for apostates to recruit into the wardens. Aedan couldn't believe the new Commander thought Anders could be trusted on such an errand, but then he guessed Nathaniel had gotten to know the man better than Aedan had. His spy at the Keep had informed him there were rumours the two men were lovers - they certainly spent enough time in each other's company. Aedan hadn't pegged Nate as someone who swung that way, but he'd been wrong about such things before.

"I can only reassure you," the fool man continued. "She will survive - the babe is healthy and strong and almost certainly will carry to term, but she is weak from the constant vomiting and dehydrated. She must rest and drink constantly."

Anora stirred in her sleep and Aedan's heart clenched. How could a pregnancy do this to a woman? He wondered if it had something to do with the taint in his blood. He dismissed the mage and sat in the chair near his wife's bed, lifting her hand and holding it in his. The bloated swelling of her stomach seemed almost obscene to him, yet it carried his legacy.

Avernus might be able to help. If for some reason the taint in his blood had caused her illness - perhaps the old blood mage could help him? She had only two months left, however, and any trip to Soldier's Peak would consume at least one of those months. He would send a messenger to bring the old man back to the Palace, however.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the fingers, wondering that she could have come to mean so much to him in so short a time. Then he stood, feeling foolish, and left the room.

"There haven't been any attacks since the failed one on the Arl of Denerim," Carroll was saying. "We figure she got a fright - or perhaps a wound, and she's lying low until she's recovered."

"There's no chance she was killed?"

Carroll shrugged. "We can hope," he said. "But I don't like not having a body to confirm it. If she disappears completely without explanation we might do well to plant a corpse and tell people she's been confirmed dead..."

Aedan shook his head firmly. "No," he said. "If it turns out she isn't dead it would be even worse for us - having an enemy rise from the grave.."

Carroll pursed his lips. "I see what you mean," he said.

Aedan ran a finger through his hair, loose from its braid lately - sometimes there just wasn't the time these days. "Have you anything else to report?" Carroll shifted uncomfortably and Aedan fixed him with a hard gaze. "What is it, man?"

"I.. ah.. I..."

"Out with it."

"There have been rumours, your majesty. About the Queen."

Aedan sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. "Rumours?"

"Of blood magic, your highness."

Aedan almost laughed. That this morning he had been considering calling on the only practitioner of blood magic he knew seemed too ironic. "Specifics, please," he said instead.

Carroll took a deep breath. "They say you forced her into marriage. That you used blood magic to control her and somehow the baby is contaminated by it. They say that she's not ill at all, just being kept quiet so she doesn't speak out against you. Or that she's being made ill by you. They say you're secretly a malificar yourself..."

Aedan rolled his eyes. "Maker's breath," he muttered. "Who is starting all these rumours?" he got to his feet. Anora was in no condition to show herself to the public at present - any attempt to do so would only serve to confirm the rumours. But something would have to be done. He nodded to Carroll. "Thank you for letting me know," he said. "Tell the servant to call Eamon to me on your way out."

Carroll bowed deeply and left. Aedan pinched the bridge of his nose - Eamon would probably have some idea of what to do to fix this but truly he could have done without extra troubles.

"You sent for me," Eamon entered slowly and Aedan suddenly realised that the man was showing his age. With his wife dead and his son sent to the Tower he supposed the only thing he had left to him was his position, and Aedan would freely admit that he didn't allow the man much time to rest.

"We have problems, Eamon," Aedan said, motioning for him to sit. "It seems the populace are about to accuse me of using blood magic to assume the throne."

The old man's eyebrow shot up. "Truly? That surprises me. Most know that you avoided mages during the blight."

"Perhaps they think I didn't need them, being malificar myself."

Eamon snorted. It was strangely reassuring to know that the old man didn't think he was the type to use blood magic. Even if he was completely wrong. "The best way to dispel those doubts would be to have Anora speak for you," Eamon said.

"In her current state I fear that would do us more harm than good," Aedan said.

"She is not well then?"

"The healers say she will be fine, once the baby is born. But at present, no, she's in no condition to make public appearances. Hence some of the difficulty."

"I see."

"I was wondering if we could somehow get some Chantry support," Aedan continued. "The Revered Mother could issue some sort of statement..."

"That's a good idea," Eamon said. "If we offer her a large enough tithe she should be more than willing to issue a statement declaring your innocence. That would be enough to convince the common folk, at least."

"And the nobility know better than to accuse me of something I am innocent of," Aedan said.

Eamon smiled, a grim expression, but one that made Aedan feel strangely satisfied. He hadn't thought he wanted the respect of the man and had never looked for it, but to have it meant more to him than he would have thought. "I shall arrange it," Eamon said, getting to his feet.

"You have my thanks, Eamon," Aedan said.

Once he was alone again in his office Aedan stood and moved to the window. He would consult with Avernus when he reached Denerim - perhaps there was a way for Anora to avoid her current illness with any subsequent pregnancies. Perhaps the warden research he had been conducting had offered a solution to the other problem - the one he hoped he would never have to share with his wife and child.

Perhaps the White Lady truly had been killed, and there would be no more of her attacks.

Perhaps.