Notes: Song is "Carry On" by Fun.

This chapter is about one subject, despite its length, but it is a subject of extreme importance to Caitlyn and Anders, so I think it's all right to devote this much page space to it.

Also, there is a NSFW scene in the middle!


Chapter 50: Like To Think We Can Cheat It All


Neither Caitlyn nor Anders dared say a word to each other about the implication of the rumor from Ferelden. It might not be true, in the first place; Anora might just be unwell and eager people could have made an unsupported leap. If she was indeed pregnant, there was also the possibility that the child would not make it, especially if—Caitlyn finally allowed herself to think—she had only conceived because of an experimental treatment for Warden infertility.

If there was a child, it was Alistair's; of that Caitlyn was sure. Having met them, Caitlyn greatly doubted that the Queen would have an affair. They did not seem nearly as affectionate as she and Anders were, but they did seem fond enough of each other and got along well—and an adulterous affair would expose the Queen to blackmail, to boot, and she was far too smart to make herself vulnerable like that. Caitlyn had also learned more about the politics of the Fereldan Crown prior to the Blight. Some nobles had believed that Anora was barren, but the Queen herself later said that it was more likely to be her first husband, Cailan, who was sterile, since he had definitely not honored his marriage vows but had not even sired any royal bastards. If Anora were the sort to present a cuckoo's egg as a child of the King, then her first marriage would have been the time to do it, when she was not wed to a King who was a Grey Warden and would suspect immediately. If the rumor was true, then there was a cure. They would just have to wait to find out if the rumor were true.

When they were alone that evening, Anders said to her, "I doubt that the Warden-Commander of Ferelden will confirm... anything... before the Crown does." He was not looking at her when he spoke, as if fearful of jinxing it.

Caitlyn agreed. "No, I'm sure she won't," she said, "not if it's true, anyway. If it's false, perhaps... but we'll find that out ourselves soon enough if it is. Let's just wait."

They seemed to agree by mutual, unspoken consent not to have a discussion yet about whether they should try for a second child, given the amount of turmoil that they feared in the future—and the fact that Mal was soon going to be vulnerable to suspicion. He would be eight in a couple of months. That was still young enough that people would not assume he had shown magic, but it felt like the calendar was advancing far faster than Caitlyn or Anders wanted to accept. They knew that if the Fereldan rumor turned out to be true, and their own hopes of over four years could be fulfilled after all, the question remained as to whether they should have another child who would probably be a mage.


Dragon 9:35 advanced toward its end in a flurry of cold and snow that extended even farther north than Kirkwall. The city was no stranger to snow, but snow in Haring was a bit unusual there, unlike in southern Ferelden. With the blast of winter came a flurry of something else: couriers and traders who sought shelter from the unexpected chill. One brought messages to the Keep from Ferelden: a pair of letters from the Grey Wardens and an official document with the royal seal.

Caitlyn and Anders knew at once what word had come to them. As soon as they dismissed the courier to a guest room in the outer Keep, they tore into their letters with a zeal that was a mix of excitement and dread.

Caitlyn's message from the Fereldan Crown was a fine parchment filled with decorative flourishes and illuminations, announcing the expected birth of a royal child in 9:36 Bloomingtide. The document did not announce whether they expected a prince or a princess; evidently they did not have a mage royal Healer who could tell them—or did not choose to proclaim it if they did know. She set down the parchment, her breath suddenly short, and gazed at Anders, who was still reading his letters.

He set aside the first one and picked up the second anxiously. His gaze darted quickly from line to line. In a few seconds, he set this one down too and took a deep, shaky breath. He gazed at her, eyes wide.

"It's not just the Fereldan Crown," he managed. "The Teyrna of Gwaren is married to a Warden too and she's also with child. Maker," he swore, momentarily overcome. "I didn't really believe... I had lost hope... but it's real. It is real, love. The second letter is from the head Warden mage of Ferelden... it's Finn Aldebrant, the one who annoyed me in the Circle, but I can't hate the bearer of... good news. He sent the recipe and instructions."

"The first letter is from Lady Cousland, then? Sent separately?" Caitlyn asked. His thoughts seemed to be jumbled, or at least, his ability to vocalize them, and she wanted to help him order his thoughts so that they could have this discussion at last.

He closed his eyes, organizing his mind, and nodded. "It was from her. It seems that there are three Warden posts in Ferelden now. Her letter is from Vigil's Keep, but the other is from Soldier's Peak, where most of the mages are... and there is apparently a third located in Gwaren now, led by Loghain. I guess he wanted to be with his... new... family." Anders breathed deeply again. "They've done it. It was that blood mage in Soldier's Peak and the mages who decided to do research with him, but this isn't blood magic. It is just a mix of ingredients and two spells that they invented." He passed her the letter containing the instructions.

Caitlyn read it, her heart thumping. Indeed, the recipe called for a series of herbal ingredients, and a Warden mage had to make it, but there was nothing dubious in it. "This Warden says that this is only shown to work on men," she said, her lips curling slightly. "They are still developing a cure for women."

Anders gazed wryly at her. "Well, test material from men is so much easier to get." He winked suggestively.

She glowered, raising her hand, small flames on each of her fingertips. He tried to back away, but she was too quick. In a flash, her burning hand was touching the side of his face, eliciting a yelp from him. She laughed as he took her wrist in hand and held it tightly, pulling it away from his head.

"All right," she chuckled, allowing her magic to subside, "I guess we have a decision to make."

He stroked her hand, which he still held, caressing the palm and the top with gentle motions, as he gazed ahead. He was not looking at her.

"Anders," she said, reaching with her free hand to turn his head to face her.

When he finally was able to speak, his voice was much weaker and more uncertain now. "I have wanted this," he said. "It isn't only because I missed Mal's earliest years, though that does make me want it even more. In Lothering, I dreamed of... of having more children with you. But... now that we actually have the chance... now that it is a real possibility and not an impossible hope, I don't know. Is it wise?" He looked terribly unsure. "Things look more hopeful for mages than they did nine years ago, but for us personally, there could be a lot of trouble ahead. I don't know anymore..." He trailed off.

She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning against his shoulder, letting him release her hand and give her a hug instead. She tried to make sense of the mix of thoughts that she was experiencing herself.

At last she felt able to speak. "I wanted that too in Lothering," she said. "I always had an... ambitious side... but for years, after I learned I was a mage, I didn't let myself think about that part of me, because it didn't seem that I could ever satisfy it. I thought that the most I could have was a life like my parents', and that was all right. I could see that they were happy and loved each other and their children so much. I wanted what they had." She clung to him. "When I fell for you, and especially when we learned about Mal, I knew that I wanted it with you."

"Darling," he whispered, unable to say anything cohesive, but he realized that they both needed comfort and tenderness right now. They needed to talk it out together.

"My father would have taught you how to farm and trained us to take it over when he and Mother became too old. I probably always would have wondered what I could have been in another life, but I would have had you, Mal would have had several little siblings, my parents and both of my siblings would have been there... We would've been so happy..."

He held her tightly. Every now and then, she said something like this, and he sensed that some part of it was guilt for what had happened to him—what he had missed—even though it was not her fault. "I don't want you to think you must do this so that I can have the experiences at last," he said, "and especially since... well... when Merrill was captured, it made me realize some things. If, Maker forbid, Meredith took Mal..."

"We said we would not allow it," Caitlyn protested.

"But if she did, of course we would get him out—and then what?" he said. "We couldn't conceal that. And given that we are both mages, the odds are in favor of all of our children having magic. From what I have seen—and read of Tevinter—it is basically a coin flip if one parent is a mage and very probable if both are, especially if at least one has it in prior generations—as you do. I don't know about my family history, but you obviously do."

"On both sides."

He nodded. "And so long as Meredith—or someone like her—runs the Templars here, so long as the Circles still claim the right to take children from their parents, even if the parents could hire a mage teacher, even if the parents are mages, then it's a danger to our family. Mal already faces it."

Caitlyn thought about what he was saying, but she did not have to do so for very long. "Exactly," she said. "He already faces it. We know for a fact that he is a mage, and he is soon going to be old enough that other people will start to ask questions too. He is about eight; I showed magic at nine. You were a little older, but people will start to ask soon. He is the child at risk immediately, not a baby who doesn't even exist yet. There is no reason not to try for a second child if that's the risk. He is the one in immediate danger. Having another child does not change the danger to him."

"But we don't know how long Meredith will remain in power. If she comes after Mal in a couple of years, and we have another child who is barely old enough to talk, that child is yet another extremely vulnerable target for her. Mal is already at risk. Do we want to have another vulnerable, innocent child who will also be at risk? For my part..." His expression hardened. "I would cut her down violently before I let her threaten our children. Even if it ignited a war. But... is it right to have another one, who would be little more than a baby when it happened, if we know that it might come to that?"

Caitlyn stared ahead for a moment. Would it come to that at last? As much as she did not want to think about it, she finally had to accept the fact that it might. Justinia was the one who had to get rid of Meredith if it were to be done peacefully. Justinia was the one who had to make the kinds of changes that she and Anders wanted made. Justinia would have to order changes that would not just let Circle mages see their families occasionally, but would give parents the right to have their mage children taught entirely outside the Circles if they chose. Justinia would have to allow any mage the right to live a normal life in the world, rather than having that right contingent on being in service to the state in some manner. They could try such reforms for Kirkwall if the Grand Cleric went along and Caitlyn successfully menaced Orsino into taking their side, but the reforms would be immediately challenged by the reactionaries in the north, and Divine Justinia would have to affirm or revoke them at last. She held the cards—but it appeared, increasingly, that she did not want to play them any time soon, either to order reforms or to get rid of Meredith Stannard. Maybe she meant to reform the Circles in the longer term, and for that to be her great project, the legacy and culmination of her service as Divine, but time for Caitlyn and Anders' firstborn was about to run out—and neither of them knew how long Justinia meant to take. I am almost twenty-nine, thought Caitlyn, and it has been eight years since his birth. If I wait eight more, it will be tougher to conceive, and Mal will be so very much older than his sibling if I do at all.

"I would do the same thing," Caitlyn finally said to him. "Even if it meant war. Some things are worth fighting for—and this was my first promise, to protect our family, no matter what." It felt like a prediction of doom, but it needed to be said—and she felt stronger, bolder, and somehow purer and cleaner for saying it. It was as if the cloud of political machinations and tough compromises in which she had been shrouded for months suddenly lifted at these words.

An expression of awe, admiration, and love bloomed on Anders' face. It was not a smile, exactly, and she realized it would have been inappropriate for it to have been, but it was nonetheless an expression that set her heart aflutter and hardened her own resolve. "And I will not let the fear of Meredith Stannard or anyone like her control how many more children we choose to have. I say enough," she added. "I want this too, Anders. Yes, I do want you to experience it at last, after it was taken from you before—but I want it too, and so do you. And I will not let fear of her keep us from it if we both want it."

His breath became short as he pulled her close. "You're magnificent," he murmured, caressing her sides, rubbing the small of her back through her gown. "Just listening to you say that, your strength and resolve... Maker."

"I want this," she repeated, letting him kiss her on the tender spot where her neck met her jaw. "I want to feel your child, our child, grow and move in me again."

Anders groaned and pushed her against the sofa, kissing her deeply.

"And I want you to see and feel it too this time. You knew Mal was there, but you never got to see me when I was heavy with him... you never got to feel him kick... he is your son and they took that chance away." Tears filled her eyes as she caressed his face.

"I always loved him, though," Anders whispered. "When I was locked away, I never stopped loving both of you and wanting to come back..."

"I know," she said, laying her head on his shoulder again. "But... this was taken from us, and the chance to have his father with him was taken from him for the first three and a half years of his life. Nothing can undo that... but we have been given another chance now, all three of us. A chance for him to have a little sister or brother like we wanted him to have, and a chance for us to experience what we should have been allowed to experience together with him." She drew away just enough to gaze at him full in the face. "I don't want the same kind of person to take that away again because we're afraid."

Smiling, he caressed her face and leaned in to kiss her gently on the cheek.


Mal noticed that his parents seemed unusually happy that evening. "What happened?" he asked eagerly when they ate dinner in the smaller family dining room of the Keep. "Is Uncle Carver visiting us again? You seem happy."

Caitlyn smiled. "I don't know when your uncle is visiting us again, but we are indeed happy—though about something else. Mal," she said, leaning in to gaze seriously at him, "how would you like to have a little brother or sister?"

The boy's eyes grew wide. "Are you..." he trailed off.

"No," she said, "not yet—but your father and I think we want to try to have another child. What do you think of that?"

"I... would... but..." His lower jaw trembled for a moment before he gazed down at his lap, wiping his eyes.

Instantly Anders leaped from his chair to crouch beside him, patting his back. "This has nothing to do with you," he said reassuringly. "You aren't being replaced, and we'll still love you just as much. Is that what bothers you?"

He hugged his father back, squeezing Anders tightly enough that it actually surprised him. How could a child grip a grown man that fiercely? But this did not seem to be just an expression of love, Anders realized. Mal seemed... afraid. Of what?

He did not have to wonder long. "You were taken away!" Mal exclaimed through frightened sobs. "Wicked Templars took you from Mother and me!" He squeezed Anders even harder. "They're going to do it again," he burst out. "The Knight-Commander hates you and Mother and she's going to do it if Mother has another baby..."

Caitlyn got up from her chair too to join Anders in trying to comfort him. "They won't," she said, trying to put confidence into her voice. "Your father is a Grey Warden, and the Grand Cleric said I would never have to go to a Circle. No one will take us from you, Mal." You are the one in danger now, she thought miserably, but she did not dare tell him that.

But he was an intelligent child, and he did not have to be told. "But she didn't say that about me," he whispered. "She didn't say that I would never go to the Circle." He gazed at his parents in terror. "If the Knight-Commander hates you, she would hate me because I'm your son! I know she likes to hurt people. I hear the two of you talking about her. She would take me from you and hurt me because of who I am!"

Caitlyn and Anders exchanged wretched glances. Mal was sometimes too perceptive and smart for his own emotional good. Anders held him closely to his chest, then drew away, keeping a firm grip on his shoulders as he gazed into his son's face. "Mal," he said, "listen to me very closely."

The child looked up, trying to suppress his own tremors of fear.

"No Templar is going to take you away from us. If the Knight-Commander or anyone else ever so much as tries, your mother and I will fight them until they are defeated."

"But... I am a mage," Mal whispered. "People think that mages have to..."

"Not all people think that," said Anders, "but I promise you, and I mean this, son—your mother and I would fight anyone in the world who tried to take you away. Anyone. No matter who it was. Even if they think they speak for the Maker, they are wrong. The Maker gave us our magic. People who would try to take you from us for being born that way are wrong, and your mother and I won't stand for it." He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "And we would do the same for any other children we ever have if they are mages too. Nobody will divide this family ever again."

A few more moments passed, but at last, Mal nodded, loosening his grip on his father. "I would like to have a brother or sister, then. Even if it's just a baby. Babies grow up."

That they do, thought Anders, sharing a slightly pained glance with Caitlyn.

"And if you do, and my new sibling is also a mage, then I could help you and Mother teach magic to them!" he added.

"You could," Anders agreed, rising to his feet beside Caitlyn and ruffling Mal's hair. He sighed to himself. It was a hopeful promise that by that time, Mal would not have to hide either. Maybe we'll make it happen, he thought.


Anders studied the recipe and instructions that night with Caitlyn. Unlike Avernus's potion that apparently prevented the Calling, this was not a potion that only needed to be taken once. Finn's letter was very forthright about it, and Anders silently gave thanks for the fact that Healers were often quite open and explicit about medical matters. According to the research that his Warden Healers had conducted on men, the Taint damaged a male Warden's seed, making it nonviable in almost every instance. The actual reproductive organs themselves were not harmed too greatly, but the fragile sperm were. Since men were constantly producing more, they would need to take this medical potion whenever they were trying to sire a child. Finn had said that it was more urgent to find a cure for male Wardens due to the sensitive political need for the King to have an heir, but that he had hopes that female Wardens would actually be easier to treat—or at least, that they would only need to take the potion once, since they did not produce new eggs. But the potion for men did not work on women, it seemed, so they had to do more research.

The ingredients themselves were easy enough to procure. Anders could get most of them from apothecaries in Kirkwall. One ingredient, royal elfroot, was rare, and he might have to forage for that—or order it from abroad, since this was winter. Antiva probably has it, he thought, given how common poisoning is there. A powerful healing herb should be easy to find for sale! There were also some spells that he would need to cast on himself once he had imbibed the potion. He passed the note to Caitlyn after reading it.

She scanned it quickly, then set it down. "Do you have these things?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'll have to order one and buy several of the others here."

"Maker, Anders—we have never tried to have a baby before. Mal was a surprise. In Ferelden, we tried to time our intimate encounters so that I wouldn't become pregnant!"

"For one month," he chuckled. "For the second, we were pretty careless."

She gazed lovingly at him. "I never regretted it, even when I had convinced myself that you had abandoned me."

He got up and sat down next to her on their bed, embracing her. "I know," he said. "I know." He gazed deeply into her green eyes. "I can't give you another tonight... nor, probably, for at least a month, depending on how long it takes for the ingredient I have to order from abroad to arrive..."

"But we can practice," she said, smirking. Her right hand found its way to his waist.

He sucked in his breath at the sensation. "We have practiced for over four years here in Kirkwall and another four months in Ferelden," he replied, smirking back.

"The more, the better."

"Agreed," he said, his voice turned into almost a growl now. He breathed heavily, pulling her close in a kiss, before they flung each other down on the mattress in a rush of heat and passion.


The royal elfroot did take about a month to arrive. They had already held birthday celebrations for Mal and Caitlyn in Wintermarch—and a quiet, private observation of the anniversary of the day that Anders first met her—when the package came to the Keep. Despite the fact that Caitlyn did not think she was at her most fertile right then, Anders made the potion anyway, deciding that it might work better if his body had already received the beneficial effect. Even if the Taint was harder on certain parts of him than others, and even if Justice's presence and Avernus's first potion did lessen or eliminate its very worst effects, it still did something to every organ, Anders reasoned—so better to fight that in advance.

A week later, when Caitlyn had higher expectations, he was suddenly nearly overcome with fear as he gazed at the potion vial in his hands. If this works, he thought, then it will make all of us very happy, but then what? I am a Healer; I can help her through the physical aspects of pregnancy this time, but what do I really know about taking care of a baby? Mal was already a small child when I met him. I won't know what to do.

But she will, he realized. She did it, and she didn't have me there. She had to learn from her mother. I can follow her lead. Maker... I don't know if she realizes how much this is going to affect her, if this works—what kinds of memories it will stir up again. All of her memories of raising Mal as a baby are tinged with sadness, because I wasn't there and because she has lost Bethany since then. At the time, she was also afraid that I was dead or Tranquil and angry that I was not with her. All that will be dredged back up. Is she prepared for it? And am I?

"Darling?" she said, noticing his hesitancy. "Are you all right?"

He gazed at her and nodded. "I'm just thinking about what this will mean if it succeeds. We'll be happy, but there will be other emotions too, memories of your pregnancy with Mal. It may not be easy."

She leaned against him. "But we are together now. Whatever we feel, we don't have to feel it alone this time."

Unless one of us does, he thought suddenly. In that moment, the horrible memory of the clinic explosion flooded his mind. "Let's hope," he whispered.

"What does that mean?" she exclaimed.

He swallowed. "I'm tired of being afraid," he said, "but I can't stop feeling fear. It used to be the fear that I would be captured... as I always was, until I became a Warden. For a time it was the fear that I would never see you again. Then it was the fear that Meredith would capture you, then that she would take Mal, and now, it is that fear and the fear that our family will be shattered permanently by violence—that one of us will be alone again. The fear has changed over the years, but it's always some damn thing." He scowled, trying to make himself angry to banish the fears, but the attempt felt feeble.

Caitlyn cuddled against him, trying to comfort him physically. "I won't tell you that you shouldn't fear those things," she said. "But we can't let that sort of fear cripple us from living the life we want. Their goal is to keep mages like us from doing the things that everyone else gets to do if they want to. They have already won if they frighten us out of living the private, personal lives we want to live, Anders."

He leaned into her embrace, closing his eyes, letting her words wash over him. "You're right," he finally said. "As usual." A wry smile filled his face.

"So... are you over yourself now and ready to prove your renewed virility? Ready, if you will, to get justice for what was taken from us before?"

He chuckled wickedly, feeling better already at these provocative words. "Maybe. The question is, are you ready?"

"Why don't you find out?"

"I think I will." With a sudden surge of defiant courage, he downed the potion in one gulp. He stared intensely at her, taking in her form, before falling into a rough embrace and tumbling onto his side with her in his arms.


Two weeks later.

Caitlyn almost cried in disappointment. Anders' spell to detect pregnancy had not given a positive result, and he had cautioned her not to get her hopes up that it was wrong, but she realized that she had anyway. Now, though, there was no doubt; she had bloody proof that she was not pregnant. It's not fair, she thought unhappily. It worked for two other Grey Wardens. Why not Anders? Could Justice be interfering, rather than enhancing its effect? Not deliberately, of course, but... Or is it me? I have been injured a lot since I moved to Kirkwall. I practiced blood magic for two years. Could that be the problem? She felt awful at that idea and realized that she would have to know.

She told her fears privately to Anders that afternoon, and immediately, he moved to embrace her. "Most people have to try for more than one month," he said. "We didn't conceive Mal the very first month either, even though we could have. We started being careful... briefly... after we realized that we'd had a close call, if I recall correctly."

"That's true, but there are still other things that worry me. I used to practice blood magic..."

"I can guarantee this, it is not your past use of blood magic," he said. "Mages in Tevinter practice it on the sly—and sometimes openly—all the time. If it made it harder for them to have children, I am sure they would know that and it would be a reason to stop doing it."

She breathed; that was logical, but there was still something else troubling her. "What about injuries, though?" she fretted. "I have been hurt a lot over my years here, and some of the injuries were severe, as you well know."

"Do you want me to examine you as a Healer?" he said seriously.

She nodded at once. "But only if you will tell me the truth if you find anything wrong."

"I promise," he said. He gestured to the nearest sofa, which she promptly lay upon. Anders readied his magic and cast a series of powerful diagnostic spells on her, focusing in particular on her lower abdomen. He knew she needed to be sure, but he doubted that any of her combat injuries had left scars severe enough to prevent her from conceiving. The worst injury she had suffered was the temporary paralysis that Corypheus had given her in 9:33. She had never taken a blade or a deep spell to this area of her body and had never been poisoned; the worst wounds that she had suffered there had been limited to her skin. Anders suspected that the "problem" was either random chance, as many couples experienced, or that the Warden potion really did need to be taken for longer than just a month to have a good chance of working. The Fereldan mage Wardens might have found that the Taint harmed a man's seed far more than his organs, but that did not mean that there was no damage. He wondered how long it had taken Anora and Cauthrien to become pregnant.

"You are in perfectly fine shape," he told Caitlyn when his spells passed over her body, revealing nothing amiss. "It's not you, love. It may not even be me. This happens sometimes."

She sat upright, breathing heavily and nodding. "I understand."


When the same thing happened next month at the end of Guardian, Anders did not know what to tell her. It was not her "fault," even by the cold logic that assigned causality to one partner or the other by dint of medical reason. He knew from performing spells on himself that his health was not quite as good as hers, but that was not news to him, given the Warden's Taint. And yet, he was not ready to give up hope so soon. After a "discussion" of sorts with Justice—though it was hard to call it that when they really just shared their thoughts and feelings—he was confident that the spirit was not treating the potion as a toxin, but rather, as the healing mixture that it was. Justice also agreed with Anders—and Caitlyn—that it would be just for their family to have this experience at last, after what had been done to them the first time—the very injustice that had first drawn him to Anders, after all. The spirit's presence, which Anders could turn to healing effect through his own Spirit Healer knowledge, was a benefit that the other Wardens did not have, and yet, at least two of them had managed to father children. Anders still believed it was just a matter of time.

And yet Caitlyn remained unhappy. It seemed especially tough for her when the Fereldan couriers reported that the Queen and Teyrna were growing heavy, and that Fergus Cousland's new wife, Alfstanna, had given birth to twins. That couple were not Wardens, and the poor Teyrn had certainly suffered greatly to lose his first wife and young son to a traitor's attack, but Anders knew that it was hard for Caitlyn to hear the news of people on the other side of the Waking Sea experiencing something that she desperately wanted to feel again, but that she still feared she would never get to experience in full with him. He could not blame her. He hoped that she—that they—would not have to wait too much longer, and he very much hoped that the potion would do its job before she received word of births to Fereldan Wardens and their wives. She would definitely have to give gifts to her allies the King and Queen, and it was advisable to give them to Gwaren as well, especially since Cauthrien and Loghain had been skeptical of her—and it might be too much for her if she was still disappointed herself.


Two weeks later, early in Drakonis, she realized with resignation that it was apparently her fertility peak again. How many more months will I go through this? Caitlyn thought sadly the evening she had that realization. We were so hopeful. The spark of hope entered our minds as soon as we heard the rumor, and it was so bright and strong when we received those letters in Haring... and when his ingredients arrived... but it has been two months of failure since then. It may not be "my" failure or "his," but it is failure. Maker, why? I want this for Anders, for Mal, for us as a couple, and for all of us as a family. I have wanted it for so long. He has too, even if he hasn't been able to admit it. We have to keep trying, I suppose.

As she got ready for bed, that dutiful resignation filling her, she realized that this moroseness had even begun to affect her thoughts about this most intimate part of her life. That was startling—and distressing. I am letting this become a task to complete, she realized. An obligation, rather than something to do to express my love, to feel close to him, to fulfill my desires for him and his for me. It is becoming something colder now. Maker's breath! If I do conceive, I'm sure I will feel renewed closeness to him for that reason... but what if I don't for another month... or longer? The full implication hit her, and she became rapidly resolved. No. I know that this is happening now in my mind, and I won't let it go any further. Anders and I have each other. We already have a child of our own, and Anders got to help me raise him after all. As he has said to me many times before, we are a couple and a family. I must not forget that. He has taken his potion, of course, but tonight will be for us.

Thoughts came almost unbidden to her mind, epochal moments of her relationship with him. Walking back to the little cabin with him in the blowing snow. The first long conversation, in which he confessed his desire to stay. The first kiss. Our first time to make love, as he cast the healing spell to take away the pain of virginity loss so that I could enjoy it even then. The moment that we learned that Mal was growing within me. The first night in Kirkwall after he finally met Mal and told us what had happened to him. The reconciliation on the log before Karl's pyre. The first kiss and first intimacy in Kirkwall in his Darktown clinic. His proposal, also in bed in the clinic. The moment that he saved Carver's life. Our wedding day... our reconciliation after the first big fight... the night that we saved Mother... the moment I was crowned Viscountess as he and Mal stood by in support and I knew that they would always be there for me... and, yes, the moment that he stood up and saved all those lives in the Keep clinic, risking his own. As this series of thoughts passed through her mind, a surge of love and desire for him nearly overpowered her.

It was good timing. Anders entered the room almost immediately after the memories had flooded Caitlyn, shedding his coat and hanging it on the coat rack at the door to their bedchamber. In the warm light of the dwarf-made lamps, he appeared almost glowing—not with spirit light, but with the warmth of health and vigor. He gazed back at her, smiling mildly.

"Come here," she said, surprised at how throaty her voice sounded. She opened her arms to him. "I need you."

His eyes widened, but he did not object for one moment. He crossed the room and stood beside her for a second, looking deeply into her eyes, before pulling her to her feet in a crushing kiss. She swayed on her feet for a moment and then pulled him back with her onto the soft mattress, letting him tumble on top of her for a few moments as she fell deeper and deeper into the kisses.

He managed to break away from her, gazing at her with rapidly dilating eyes. "Someone's in a mood tonight," he teased, though his voice was husky.

She merely smirked back as they began to peel each other's clothes off, eager fingers pulling at soft rich fabric that slid off their bodies so smoothly. "What do I have to thank for this?" he continued, once they were in nothing but their smalls. His amber eyes gleamed in the lamplight. "Was it something I did? I want to know so that I'll know to do it again..."

"Oh, you," she said, playful exasperation in her tone. "You 'did it' by being yourself for all this time." Her smirk softened to a warm smile. "I was thinking about us before you came in—our most beautiful moments. I can't help what it did to me," she added, the teasing returning to her voice at this.

Anders gave her another brief but warm and tender kiss. "So much the better, then," he purred. He drew back, breaking the kiss, and lowered his gaze to her waist. His hands found the hem of her smalls and pulled them down, as she helped him by drawing up her legs so that he would not have as far to move. He gave her a very intense look, almost a glare, before drawing one hot, dry, smooth hand up her inner thighs. "Holy Maker," he exclaimed, eyes wide as he reached her core. "You were thinking nice thoughts!"

"All of them about you," she said, shifting on the bed to feel his nimble fingers slip into her. A moan escaped her as his digits slid into her slippery center. He curled his fingers, a smirk forming on his face, eliciting another, louder groan from her. "Please," she begged.

He breathed in and out, eyes fixed upon her, while pleasuring her with his hand. Her eyes fluttered closed in bliss, and she began to breathe shallow breaths too, her lips parted just enough. Every few moments she would open her eyes to gaze intensely at him, moving slightly on the bed beneath him, her chest heaving. Finally he felt his smallclothes tighten, and he realized that he could not continue. "I need—" he broke off, withdrawing his hand almost without even knowing.

Caitlyn moaned in complaint for a moment but understood. Immediately she moved her hands to his waist to help him take off his smalls, revealing the very hard erection they had been poorly concealing. She gave him a quick, light stroke, making him cry out and pin her hard to the bed by her shoulders. "I want you too," he burst out, positioning himself between her legs without any further ado. "I want you for the rest of our lives—no matter what else changes or doesn't."

She understood what he meant. He was telling her that it would be all right if they never managed to have a second child, that although that would make them both happier, what they had together and with their firstborn was still enough. She understood, and as he filled her swiftly and thoroughly and they both began to move in their familiar passionate rhythm, she realized that she had decided that herself tonight.

Despite the heat of the moment, they knew now how to make this last for each other. In a minute, Anders was shooting mild but still startling sparks into her, sometimes in time with his motions and sometimes by surprise, and she retaliated with alternately searing hot and shockingly frost-capped fingertips against his back, leaving a trail of meltwater that ran down him in rivulets. It was winter, and the Keep was drafty even with the firewood still glowing orange beneath blackened bark, but they kept each other hot. At last she gasped out her release, legs shaking and stretched, and he clung to her shoulders, head bent, his lower lip between his teeth, trembling from his own. Behind the heavy drapes, they were warm enough that it might have been summer.

He rolled off her, pulling her on top of him down to the waist with one arm, stroking her back with his free hand and sharing languid kisses. "Love you so much," he murmured.

She sensed that he was dozing off, and to be fair, that had been exhausting. "I love you too," she whispered.


Caitlyn did not even ask Anders to perform his detection spell after that. She did not want to change for her memories what that delightful night had been about. It had been a night of love, intimacy, and affection. If anything more resulted from it, that would be wonderful, but she decided to find out for herself when the time came. Anders seemed to realize and agree; he did not offer to do the spell either. They went about their daily lives for the next two weeks—and then Caitlyn waited. And waited. Several more days passed before she finally went to him.

"Four days late?" he mused. "It could be... but do you want me to do the spell to know for sure?" He seemed uncertain, afraid that it would give another negative result and she—they—would again be disappointed.

She realized what he was likely thinking, but at the same time, now that her body was giving her suspicious signals, she did need to know. And if it again didn't happen, we will be disappointed later anyway. The time has come to cast the spell. "Yes," she told him, confidence in her words. "It's better that we know."

Anders nodded silently as she sat down. He ran his hand up her long skirt. His hand lingered between her thighs, and a smirk briefly formed, but only for a moment; now was not the time for that. It was possible to cast the spell through clothing, but in early days, it would be more likely to detect a pregnancy if cast directly against skin.

The spell glowed bright, piercingly blue.

For a moment, neither of them seemed to comprehend what they were seeing. I have not seen that since Lothering, almost nine years ago to the day, Caitlyn thought, feeling somehow detached from her own body at the moment. Anders also stared at the glow as it faded, his expression confused and not comprehending—or not believing.

Then he burst out in a laugh of shock and joy. "Did you see that?" he exclaimed, looking up at her, eyes wide and sparkling. "It's... it worked, Cait! It happened!" He rested one cheek against her belly, smiling, as his eyes grew watery.

She finally was able to process what was happening. A sob escaped her as she held him tightly in place, stroking his hair. "It did," she whispered. "I'm... we're going to be parents of another, Anders."

A happy, wistful sob—an expression of joy for the second chance and grief for the theft of the earliest years of the first—escaped him. He relaxed on his knees before her, aware that he would have to get to his feet and that they would both have other things to do soon enough, but wanting to relish this moment. At last, a measure of justice, he thought. The spirit within him seemed to agree.


They did not tell Mal immediately, wanting to be sure that the child survived long enough to quicken. Anders became even more affectionate to her than usual, giving her frequent pecks on the cheek or embraces—sometimes even in public—and despite the fear that they both felt for the future, a smile frequently adorned his face. Caitlyn wondered how long it would take for Mal to guess why.

She still had to adjust some aspects of her lifestyle. No longer could she have a drink at dinner; Anders was very adamant that that was harmful. Her sudden abstinence was something that would be impossible to conceal if she had to host a state dinner, and she was definitely not ready to make that announcement yet—but fortunately, no such events were on her calendar for the period when they chose to keep it a secret. She also had to be more careful of her physical activity. Since becoming Viscountess, she had found herself in fighting situations a lot less frequently—the most significant being the face-off with the High Dragon—but she realized, as the joy of her new "condition" became familiar and other feelings settled in too, that she had taken a lot for granted in her first few years in Kirkwall. I can't rush headlong into danger now, she thought about a month and a half along. Not only would I be risking the city, risking the cause, and risking creating grief for my current family, I would now be risking the life of this baby too. I never had to worry about that in Ferelden with Mal. I did farm work and cast spells at a distance if some sort of dangerous animal approached. It has been nine years since I last became pregnant, she thought, and so much has changed. Maker—I want to tell Mal, but I need to wait a little longer yet.

After that moment of contemplation, she decided that a suitable time to tell him was when they knew whether they were having a boy or a girl this time. Before, Anders had been able to tell her that they were having a boy about two months into her pregnancy. That was still before the traditional three-month period for making the official announcement to the public, but her family could know. Mal can know, she amended, not quite trusting her mother's discretion.

Anders was also anxious to tell Mal, but after discussing it with her, he agreed with her opinion of the best time for that. "We should think about names," he said.

Caitlyn considered that briefly. "I'd rather know first. That way I won't get more attached to one name than the other!" When he gaped at her, stifling a shocked laugh, she laughed ruefully as well. "Well... that and it seems like a jinx. I know it's foolish. I'm a mage, and even though I am not a professional Healer, I have lived with one for four and a half years. Closer to five, if we count Lothering. I know that these things are a matter of health, mine and the baby's, not superstition. But... Maker."

"I know," he said quietly, holding her in a loose hug. "Considering what happened to us with Mal, I understand and I feel that myself sometimes. We'll wait, then."


At last, two months had passed. Despite her resolution not to think about baby names, she had done so. If they were having a girl, she wanted to honor Bethany, but she could not name the child directly after her sister. That was too much. The first name, the name by which she called her daughter, if she had a daughter, needed to be something else—and she thought she knew what it should be. She hoped that Anders would approve if they had a girl; he, after all, had never called his mother by her first name, so she hoped that it would not seem to him like borrowing her identity. But if they had another boy, she found herself coming up empty. She really, really did not want to name a son of hers after her grandfather Aristide Amell or her uncle Gamlen. She did not know anything about her father's family—and after he had escaped from the Circle, he had not reunited with them anyway. She also knew that Anders would not want to give any honor to the father who gave him away because he was a mage, knowing he wouldn't see his son again; in fact, he had dropped his own birth name at twelve because he had originally been named for the man who had discarded him. She supposed that if they were having another boy, they would need to think of an entirely new name rather than honoring someone in the family lines. I have a unique name, after all, Caitlyn thought.

She was aware that she was postponing telling Mal, because that would somehow would make it realer. It would mean knowing the sex of the child and choosing a name. It would mean that in the next month, she would need to tell everyone else—including the people of Kirkwall, her foreign allies, and her adversaries, both foreign and not. I knew this, she thought as the end of the month approached. I knew that these things would not go away, and I chose with my eyes open.

It was a warm, stuffy, humid day—a day to be indoors where at least there was shade and the draftiness of the Keep was finally an advantage—when a well-dressed courier rode up to the Keep. He was wearing a tabard with a mabari sigil on one side and a wyvern on the other: the heraldry of the Theirins and the Mac Tirs, donning both devices because the Fereldan royal couple shared the crown and ruled jointly. When he was admitted to the Keep, Caitlyn knew what tidings he bore as soon as she was told he was there. So did Anders.

Mal was somewhat uncooperative about putting down his little staff and leaving the practice room to greet the guest. "This is a royal messenger from Ferelden," Caitlyn chided him, "and he has something very important to say, we think. Surely you don't want a king and queen to think you were impolite!"

He pouted, but only for a moment. "All right," he said grudgingly, putting his staff into a closet in the practice room. Anders locked and warded the door. Together they all headed out to the outer Keep, where the courier waited.

"Your Graces," he announced, "I bear joyous news from your allies in Ferelden: Her Majesty the Queen has been safely delivered of a daughter, Princess Celia Brighid Dairine Theirin."

"That's a lot of names," muttered Mal. Anders gave him a nudge.

"I'm delighted to hear this," said Caitlyn—and it was true, she realized. Now that she was expecting another child herself, she was happy for her allies. "I will certainly send gifts to them by you when it is time for your return."

They him put up in one of the outer Keep guest rooms before returning to the area in the family quarters next to the warded practice room. Caitlyn let Mal scamper off to resume his practice, then turned to Anders.

"You want to know," he guessed. She nodded. He gazed around furtively before beginning the spell that he had last used for her back in Ferelden, in Lothering...

A smile bloomed on his face. "This one's a girl," he said. "We're having a daughter too." He gazed adoringly at her. "We're having a little girl."

Her hand covered her belly at once, though she could still feel nothing. "Can we..." Her voice became husky.

He got to his feet and placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "Are you all right, love?"

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat that had suddenly formed. "Can we... would you mind... if we name her Johanna Bethany? I thought..."

His eyes widened in surprise, but it lasted only for a moment before he enveloped her fully in his embrace. "That's... I don't know what to say," he choked out. "She would be honored. Both of them. Jo Beth?" he said weakly. "Keeping with the tradition you started of giving a nickname, a name that is only their own..."

"Sure," she agreed through unshed tears. "Maker, Anders, I'm so happy that you are here to discuss this with me. I made the decision alone for him."

"I probably would have suggested naming him for your father, even if he had survived," he said quietly. "But you named him for me too... and I would not have presumed to suggest that!" Gentle teasing filled his words suddenly, but they both knew it was a way to avoid being overcome with emotions.

"I expect I still would have," she said, oddly relieved that Mal still would have been Mal even if Anders had been there to help her name him.

Inside the practice room, the child in question overheard. He stopped throwing spells at the warded stone and marched toward his parents. "What's going on?" he said. "Are you all right?"

"We are," Caitlyn said, getting control of herself as she faced him. She took a deep breath. "Mal... darling... the message that the courier brought made us remember to do something, and we just learned that... you are going to have a sister."

His eyes grew very wide, and he was struck speechless for a moment. "A sister," he said in awe. "When?"

She did the maths quickly in her head. "Haring. Another winter birthday, like you and I have!"

"Father doesn't," Mal pointed out. Indeed, Anders' birthday was in the summer. "But that's good! I can't wait."

"Neither can we," Anders said softly.


Notes: I hope this isn't too nauseatingly sweet and was a nice respite from the dark grimness of the preceding chapters… and, yes, those yet to come.

I decided for my own headcanon purposes that Anders decided affirmatively to change his name as a kid—that it wasn't just that he answered to a name given to him at the Circle (which would actually be rather strange, considering), but that (and this is my own HC) he had been named for his father and deliberately wanted nothing more to do with that name, whatever it was, after being given away. Given that his mother's name is Johanna (I think it is? It is fanon, at a minimum), and the Anderfels are linguistically "Germanic," I think it was a misjudgment to make her Fereldan and the dad Ander, and I'm strongly inclined to make the reverse my headcanon too.