"If he has magic and I can't teach him, I'd like you to take him to the Ferelden tower," Neria said. Shartan was making his stiff-legged way along the couch toward Alistair and gave a happy, wordless shriek upon encountering the Warden's knee. "And if anything happens to me and Zev—and it might, of course it might, he was the grandmaster and I'm still a maleficar—I'd like you to raise him."

Alistair lifted Shartan up and the baby's face split into an enormous, gummy grin. Sunlight filled him and he smiled in return.

They rocked side to side on the boat to Antiva City. Darisa was looking out over the water. Alistair was looking at her. He moved close to her and slung his arm around her. She stiffened; he hesitated a moment. He ran his fingers gently through her hair and kissed her temple. She slowly leaned into his arm with a little sigh.

He came as often as was reasonable, which translated to a bit more than once a year. His fourth visit was the first one where Shartan remembered him, hanging out the window and shouting, unclo, unclo, unclo! before hurtling out the door on dusty bare feet.

Darisa wouldn't come with him on the fifth visit, and before he left Vigil's Keep the Warden-Commander pulled him in for a private meeting and made him carry a letter away.

The real shock came when he walked into Neria's house. Shartan was on his shoulders, yanking his hair and talking so fast that Alistair couldn't even understand the Fereldan bits and Neria came into view. The air felt thick then with the words would not be spoken: Neria would die before this second child grew to adulthood.

Shartan crashed into Alistair's bed the morning when Neria's pains had shut her and Zevran up in their room. The boy tugged at his uncle's ears to try to make them less round and argued with him over the uselessness of a shield when his own superior papa used two blades. The shield became a point of some obsession after their honey-soaked breakfast. Shartan wanted to hold it and Alistair helped him by taking most of the weight until the boy admitted defeat.

The midwife came out of the room around lunchtime and muttered to herself in Antivan while fetching things from the kitchen. Shartan listened with round eyes.

"What did she say?" asked Alistair.

"She said that it is bad that papa is in the room with mamma." Shartan seemed troubled by this and Alistair put a soothing hand on his back. He frowned. "That is stupid. My papa keeps my mamma safe because she can't do it herself because the baby is big." He looked up at Alistair, brows lifted. The boy was so beautiful. He was nut-brown with red-gold hair lightened from the sun and tilted gold-flecked brown eyes. "Is this right, unclo?"

"Your papa and mamma know what they are doing."

There was a bit of a kerfuffle at bedtime when neither mamma nor papa were present to see Shartan off to the Fade. The boy kept insisting that Alistair was doing it wrong and Alistair couldn't help but agree. It took over an hour for the sobbing child to fall asleep against his neck. And even though the last hour had been hell, really, he sat there in the lamp-lit evening and stroked Shartan's small back, thinking about his own child that he would never meet, filled with affection for this child that he did know.

Taddeo shared breakfast with Shartan and Alistair the next morning. They watched the child play among the trellises and Alistair expressed some worry about how Neria had not yet given birth. The Crow shrugged as if uncaring.

"I don't think the mistress gives birth very well. She nearly died with the last one. I would not be surprised if this one does kill her." He threw an apple core into the field. "The master will be a real bastard to deal with after. With any luck, I'll get a raise out of it."

Never go to a Crow for reassurance on matters of life or death, Alistair remembered.

The midwife fetched Alistair in a flurry of irritated and incomprehensible Antivan. He followed her into the bedroom and found that Neria did look nearly dead. The midwife passed out of the room carrying a basin of bloody water and… yes, that was also blood on the floor. Zevran's hand was gentle as he smoothed Neria's sticky hair and he chuckled roughly at the look on Alistair's face. "It was easier for her this time," he said with a kind of black humor.

"It was?" Neria opened her eyes to look at him as she said this and, Maker, yes, she had two black eyes, and the horrifying thing is that Alistair hadn't even noticed when he first came in. This made him very, very glad that he wouldn't see Darisa go through this.

"Si, amora," Zevran answered. "Do you not think so? It went faster and… ah, nevermind. Why should I be talking about this, yes?" He kissed her temple and went back to stroking her hair.

They gave Alistair the baby, a tiny reddened bald thing with one ear-tip folded over. He carefully supported the head and felt like an enormous clumsy brute while holding it close. "It's a girl," Neria told him, and she grinned through her bruised face. "Her name is Surana."

"We wanted to give her a name as grand as Shartan's, but felt Adraste might be a bit much," Zevran explained, and they both laughed. The sound made the baby's face go through a series of contortions before she settled back to sleep. Alistair cradled her against his chest, already plotting for how to make his next visit come sooner.

To the Warden-Commander Nathaniel of Ferelden:

First, I extend my greetings and well-wishes to you. I would like to say that you have exceeded all of my expectations in how you have caused the Order to flourish in our country, but this would not be the truth. I knew when first I saw you that you would be a Warden of exceedingly good quality and that the honor of the Howe name would be restored through your actions. You have proved my faith in you repeatedly and I wish for only more of the same for you in the future. Amaranthine is in very good hands.

I am afraid that circumstances are such that as yet I am unable to return. Should her majesty the Queen see fit to fulfill the boon she offered me upon her coronation, I will reconsider. Until that day I hope that you can be reassured that I am still a loyal Grey Warden and continue to harry the darkspawn where I am as best as I am able. I do what I can to support Vigil's Keep from a distance. You may ask Alistair of my activities on your behalf if you like.

Kind regards,

Warden Neria