38. Routine
9:38 Dragon
Waters crashed harshly against the basalt columns of the Storm Coast. The rain never seemed to cease here as the soil soaked in to full saturation. Asher could sense her boots sinking deeper and deeper into the ground as she made her way up the hill. The ferns hung low, brushing against her legs. The smell of decaying earth filled her lungs, soothing the ache in her temple for a moment. It calmed her, settled the nerves. Asher eagerly got used to this sensation day by day.
She glanced back to the mainland. Her daily foraging to the woods proved fruitful this time around. Asher had gathered enough medicinal herbs to last for a month and some edible berries to add to her tea. The rest she would use to barter and trade with the passing merchants on the Imperial Highway.
Asher had wandered the edge of Ferelden for weeks until she settled on an abandoned cabin in the Storm Coast. From most angles, it was undetectable. Its location on top of the hill proved to be strategic to watch for any unwanted intruders. The dense fog masked the cabin while the raging waters prevented most boats from docking. If she played her cards right, kept her head low, and fortified the island well enough, Asher had plans to make this her sanctuary as a way to avoid the rising Mage-Templar conflict. As the days turned into weeks turned to months, Asher grew accustomed to this new situation. It was certainly difficult in the beginning but, with time, she fell into a comfortable routine and found some stability in her fully-fledged apostate life.
But this wasn't the vision she had in mind when they departed the docks of Kirkwall that day. Far from it.
On they journey to escape Kirkwall, Asher and her apprentices pulled up the shores of the Planasene Forest only to rest for the night as they continued their head-fast course for Nevarra. The chaos in Kirkwall kept most attention in Thedas while the group escaped under everyone's nose. Their goal was to reach Cumberland and seek asylum in the Nevarran Circle. That was the consensus her students came to after weeks of being on the run. Rather than become apostates, the apprentices decided to take their chance by assimilating to a new Circle culture. Nevarran Circles were unlike the ones in the Free Marches or Ferelden. Many of their Mages were part of daily society and members of the community. The plan was promising and Asher had every intention to join.
Until something came up.
They saw the golden dome of the ports of Cumberland, gleaming brilliantly against the sun rays, when they finally pulled into the docks. She watched the apprentices follow a group of Chantry Sisters that escorted them deeper into the city from her view on the boat. Her heart sunk lower. Six years was not long enough. She watched these kids grow, some into young adults. For six years they were her only reason to keep fighting so hard in Kirkwall against the Templar oppression. Time was not long enough.
Asher turned back south, across the Waking Sea. The only place she could make home again with the tension between Mages and Templars rising was Ferelden. Her permanent home. No matter how much she wanted to make her true home with her students. Or go back to her temporary home with Cullen. Asher was set for Ferelden. But not Kinloch Hold. She now had a reason to abandon the Circles forever.
Grabbing onto the wooden surface, Asher leaned in to start her ascent up the ladder for her cabin. There was one prominent downside to this hidden home on the coast. The hike into the cliff-side was never pleasant and the climb up the ladders was even less so. Sometimes it was brutal. Especially when she was carrying additional weight on her back to bring back home. The winds would pick up the higher she climbed, blasting against her exposed skin as the rain washed sideways. She carefully took each step and tugged her weight to keep balance on the dangling structure. The process was always terrifying.
Asher pulled herself off the cliff, breath heavy and pulse erratic. She was getting better at this but her body was still too weak. More time was required to rebuild her strength. She turned to her cabin, minding the remaining steps to the end of her journey. Her fingers searched the knapsack at her waist for the key as she waddled over to the door, her stamina nearly giving up. The morning had worn her out. Stumbling inside after prodding open the entrance, Asher fought the urge to drop everything and collapse on her bed.
The previous residents of the cabin did not leave much after their departure. Immediately inside was a small table and chair pressed against the wall underneath the window that looked out onto the sea. A wood stove was lodged across the room neatly into the corner where Asher often ignited the flames to warm up the cabin during the winter months. She patched up the gaping holes with scraps of fabric from her old robes to keep the wind from entering. Asher made a mental note to find a better fix soon before the temperature started to drop further.
With a flick of her wrist, Asher set flame to the stove, basking the room in serene warmth. She walked over to the table to lay out the herbs to dry and set down her knapsack on the chair. Her shawl had nearly soaked through, peeling the fabric from her skin. As she hung the coat over the chair shoulders, Asher reached around to undo the fastening at her waist. She gave a gentle swing to leverage the swaddle of fabric from her back forward. The motion prompted a stir.
"Shh, shh, shh." Asher whispered beneath her breath. Cradling the bundle at her chest, she walked back and forth across the room while giving a tender hop to her step. "I know, I know… it's not fun being under that shawl."
She was met with a pair of sleepy eyes that stared back at her with a familiar green tint. A silent yawn escaped. Asher stared back at the perplexed creature in her arms. If there was a Maker somewhere out there in the ether sphere, she was absolutely certain that he found pleasure in making her life unbearable. This was her reason for not joining her students in Nevarra. Here it looked back at her with curiosity and a scrunched pink nose.
Her apprentices took note first before she had. As they travelled across the Waking Sea, her seasickness was starting to get worse. Walking on shore did not seem to help either. It was then that her older students began to speculate before the thought even crossed her mind. Most foods they cooked over supper made her stomach churn violently, much like how it twisted during the early stages when she was still in Kirkwall. The signs had been there all along. She just did not slow down enough to take notice. It was easier to blame it on the fear and anxiety she felt over the sensitive situation between Meredith and Orsino. The realization that her own pupils were more receptive to her state of affairs than she had become rather embarrassing. But none of them thought on this matter as she did. Instead, there was an unexpected cry of happiness for her newly discovered pregnancy.
And then the dread set in.
Asher discussed it with her students. All of her students. It was a reality that they needed to be aware of. They chatted on the matter for many nights as they travelled to Nevarra, weighing the consequences of arriving in the Circle with an unborn baby on the way. Bearing children in the Circle was a rarity that never brought a satisfying conclusion. She wondered whether her older kids had any speculation on who the other party member was in this fiasco but none of them ever mentioned anything on the matter. It seemed everything about this topic was taboo.
Quietly, Asher stepped around the room to the hidden enclosure behind the wall. There was a private space tucked in behind the stove where the bed had been placed. Asher traded for fabric and collected wool from the wild rams to fashion a pillow and blanket to keep them warm at night. The previous residents left a bear pelt hanging on the wall that Asher repurposed into a layer for the winter months. She had no skills in woodcraft and it proved to be difficult to find a wandering merchant carrying a crib in their supplies. She settled on sewing more pillows to create a barrier on the bed, closest to the wall, where she would place the child to rest. As she made her way to the back room, the little one closed their eyes again to continue their slumber.
After settling down, Asher returned to the main room to start preparing food for the night. Living as an apostate in Ferelden with a child was the last possible scenario she had envisioned for herself. These days, Asher would sense fear and panic creep in the distant edges of her mind. She found it impossible to breathe and her pulse would race, as if her heart threatened to burst from her chest. The stress she felt while in the Circle was nothing compared to the terror she harbored in her mind now. Whenever these attacks began, Asher would turn to sewing as a way to distract her racing thoughts. Her apprentices were everything to her. She would give her own life to protect them. Now that dynamic had shifted.
Without giving it a second thought, even before the child was born, Asher had already placed more value in protecting it over her students. The possibility made her sick – disgusted in her own decision. Her students, on the other hand, were completely in agreement of that choice. Before they left for Nevarra, each of them had said their goodbyes. If it wasn't for their support, Asher was certain that the guilt she felt for abandoning them would have killed her by now.
But she hadn't abandoned them, as Paora stated. They expressed their gratitude in taking care of them and claimed that it was time for them to do the same for others, the younger ones. Parting with her students was the most painful choice Asher had made in her life thus far. If she allowed her fears to get the best of her now, she would be disappointing her students who gave her freedom from the Chantry. She had to survive. She must.
The soup had been set to boil on the stove. Asher sat at the table with her mug of tea to watch the waters come in and out of the shore. A year had passed since she left Kirkwall. She pulled out a parchment of paper to start writing another letter to a recipient that would never read its contents.
This had become another habit.
Cullen,
It is raining here, as usual. The winds are beginning to die down but a chill is traveling from the mountains as we greet winter. I managed to preserve some vegetables for the upcoming months. Hopefully you're eating enough as well. I sometimes wonder if you're too absorbed by your work to forget your meals. I imagine restoring Kirkwall must be taking a toll by now. Know you, you're probably working yourself to the bone and ignoring the state of your health. I can't exactly scold you for that though – not when I was a poor example myself.
A flash of lightning illuminated the cabin as the rain picked up. Asher readjusted in her seat to continue.
I am glad that you don't have to worry about us. If you knew of your son, I fear you would have abandoned your duties to the Order to protect that child. It would pain me to see you give up your dreams and aspirations. You probably think this is selfish on my part. But in truth, even I did not suspect that I was with your child before the fighting broke out in Kirkwall. Maybe this is for the best, after all.
She paused. Her heart fluttered and lodged to her throat.
I miss you. I wish I could spend another evening in your company over tea as we chat about nothing. Even if The Gallows was a living nightmare with Orsino and Meredith at each other's throats, it was still precious time spent with you.
Asher took another sip, swallowing the growing lump.
I miss your laugh. I miss seeing your brows bunch together when you're frustrated. I miss watching you patrol the halls, stopping to talk with apprentices and Templars alike. I think we both know that you were the best remedy for Kirkwall. Sure, you have very strict and indoctrinated views on Mages… but at least you still saw them as human. That's more than most. I know deep down that if you left with us that night, Kirkwall would have fallen apart completely. I am glad that you are there. Truly.
Her chest tightened.
We were both prepared for this moment. We knew that this would not last forever. Nevertheless, I must admit that it is difficult to move on. Now, I'm uncertain if I ever fully will. A piece of you is still here. I can feel it in him. And I sometimes dread waiting to see more of you manifest over time. Maybe this is a punishment… or a gift?
She could sense the sting at the corner of her eyes.
It hurts. A lot. I'm sor
Asher sat back. Inhaling deep, she closed her eyes shut to will the tears from escaping. She folded the parchment a couple times over, gently bending the crease. Without allowing her mind to think twice on the matter, she turned around and tossed the paper into the flame.
That became her new routine where she wrote countless letters to him without ever sending one. Asher looked at it as a way to clear her mind and help her recovery. This was the only way that seemed to work for her to cope with reality.
She was pathetic.
Wiping her face, Asher gathered herself to stand again. The day was running out of light. Soon the wolves would start their howls and she'd hear the occasional critter scratching at her walls. She stirred the pot of soup as it slowly cooked over the flame. Her thoughts spun in circles just the same.
She wasn't ready for this. In fact, Asher was convinced that she never wanted this. Her apprentices filled that gap in her life where typically children did. She was content with being an Enchanter for the rest of her days, teaching students through the years and watching them blossom into capable young adults. She would even be willing to give up her dream of becoming a First Enchanter if it meant security for her apprentices.
Then this baby appeared. Sure, it was a product of a shared intimate connection with a person she most cherished. Most women would be ecstatic to carry the child of their beloved. Some even delivered multiples with that joy. Asher, on the other hand, looked at this baby and saw nothing but a chain to her freedom. She could not be part of the Circle anymore, her future with her students robbed. The Chantry would never approve for her to keep this thing. And if the Order found out who the father was, Asher would never be permitted to engage with Cullen or anyone else again.
The first couple months of carrying it were the worst on her psyche. Asher hated this thing. She wanted to do nothing more than carve it out of her stomach and toss it into the sea. She pondered on the possibility - considered whether abandoning it would be worth it to get back her freedom. But did she have freedom within the Circle to begin with? No matter how she looked at it, both choices were damning. The only reasoning she had came from her apprentices when they first found out about her condition.
Aside from the immense and unexplainable delight they expressed, some of her older students dared to ask whether this child was created with affection. The question threw her off guard. Yes? She had asked herself. Of course it did. This came from the person she loved dearly through a connection they treasured deeply. Even if Asher may not want to be pregnant, this was still a part of him. And if she was convinced that they would never cross paths again, would it be so bad to have a piece of his with her? At the end of it, whether she loathed or loved the idea of becoming a mother, this would be her only memento of a time shared with Cullen.
That was the only thought that kept her from ending it all. And when the child was born, despite the hours of labour, pain, and suffering she endured in solitude, Asher could not imagine harming it any longer.
New fears emerged instead.
Was she going to be a good enough mother for it? What if her magical heritage passed down and it became a Mage? Would she teach it the ways to control its powers and nightmares in the Fade? Could they even live long enough to avoid the foreboding eye of the Chantry? What if a Templar stole it from her, dragged it to the nearest Circle, and subjected it to tranquility as punishment for being an apostate? Could she provide a life worth living? Did she have enough love left within her to share with another human being? Why didn't motherhood come easy for her? Did she even deserve to be a mother in the first place?
She hated herself for having these thoughts.
Many nights were spent bawling into a pillow until the intensity of her migraines knocked her out into cold sleep. Then she would wake to a stirring and hungry baby to do this all over again. Her body was exhausted. Her mind was in disarray. Her heart was broken. Everything seemed grey. But despite it all, she had to pull herself together day after day to keep this child alive. This too became a routine in time.
Asher grabbed a bowl from the table to fill it with soup. Her fingers wrapped around the surface, feeling the warmth radiate as it traveled up her veins and into her core. Asher wobbled back to the chair. The day was nearing its end and she needed to head for bed soon. Tomorrow would bring new possibilities. Perhaps tomorrow she would wake to finally unravel the mystery of parenthood. Or at least spend the morning observing her little one wiggle about and show more of himself to the world.
That would be enough, too.
She could wait to figure out how to be a better mother.
A knock of three on her door jolted Asher from her thoughts.
Or postpartum depression? Dang... I wrote and re-wrote this chapter way too many times. I wanted to capture the mess of thoughts, emotions, and events all jumbled about to represent Asher's confused state. I think I just made myself confused in the process! XD