When we love, we always strive to become better than we are.
When we strive to become better than we are,
everything around us becomes better too.
 ~ Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

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Warm and soft, she's heavier than she looks, but still lighter than his sword and shield. She nestles against his chest, fists curled against rounded cheeks. He can't quite get over the perfection of her fingers or the tiny point to her ears. When she opens her eyes, he knows they will be large and blue going to green, and all he can see when he studies her face is her mother.

He walks the loft above his office, past the newly built stairs and floor, bare feet on a throw rug, feeling the beat of her heart against his chest. Knowing that you'll love them doesn't prepare you for what it feels like – the terror and the joy blending together until it's difficult to breathe. But when he holds her, singing the Chant of Light beneath his breath, all he feels is peace.

Melori stirs in the bed, her long hair scattered across the pillow where it has escaped the braid. They both have too many nightmares – often of the same events – so he tries to let her sleep when he cannot. It wasn't that the baby was fussy or even needed changing. He liked the feel of her in his arms; the steady weight and warmth of his daughter held against his unarmored chest in those early mornings when the memory of lyrium sings him awake with demons and the memory of fallen friends.

Almost every morning, somewhere before dawn, he would wake and lift her from the cradle, delighted by the way her lips purse and press together and how her lashes curl against her cheeks. Tonight she has a serious expression, pale brows tugging together above her tiny nose, and he wonders if infants dream. He hopes not, or, if they do, it is some protected and safe place in the Fade.

"Cullen?"

He looks up to find Melori awake and blinking sleepily, trying to sort out her tangled curls with her fingers. "Is everything all right?"

"I wanted to hold her," he admits, stepping across the floor to settle down beside her on the bed. "She's still asleep."

"Small blessings," she laughs, and their eyes meet and tangle over the baby's head. He remembers how he'd afraid he'd been the night Caro was born and leans forward to press a kiss to her mouth, startled as always by the soft slide of her lips against his and the way she always sighs, as though melting into him. The baby squirms against his arm as they break apart and Melori's eyes move to Caro's face, lingering there.

"I can't quite believe she's real," She whispers, tucking herself in along his right side and pulling the blankets up around them.

"Not even when she's yelling to the ceiling because she's hungry?" he asks, chuckling.

"Especially then," Melori laughs. "Dorian holds her high and encourages her to cry louder. He says she'll be a famous singer someday."

"I'm not sure I appreciate him giving her ideas," Cullen mutters, smiling as Caro yawns again. "Though I suspect I'll have to become accustomed to it. He's remarkably fond of her."

"I'm glad. It's rather like having a brother to be her uncle," Melori says, still leaning against his side. "I have brothers, but I've never met them … and they're Dalish."

"They wouldn't approve, would they?" He says, glancing at her. "I have a brother and two sisters, you know. They'll love you both."

"We should visit them." She smiles, "I'd like to meet Mia, the one you say writes to you all the time?"

"I've thought, if we were to leave Skyhold in the future, we could settle near Honnleath. We'd be nearer to them, yet not so far we could not return here when we wished."

"I've never been to Honnleath," Melori thinks about it, leaning her chin against his arm. "What would we do there?"

"There's a castle not far from the village," he muses, leaning his head back against the headboard.. "About the size of the fortress in Crestwood. I thought we could settle there, host the forces here for the summer training, and ... well, raise a family."

"A family?"

"Unless ... if you don't wish to have more children ..." he says, looking back down at her. "I would never ... I mean..."

"No! Cullen," she laughs and leans up to kiss him again. "It's not that. I just ... I never imagined it. That's all. Just having the two of you is ... I'm still amazed by my luck."

The sun rises outside, sending rays across the tower as they curl together, and he thinks about how it might have been and thanks Andraste for her grace.

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NOTE: I like to think Cullen is finding some measure of peace once he's with whoever he ends up with after DAI or the events in PFOS with Melori. Though, knowing Bioware, he's going to end up in DA4 with more angst than he had going into DAI. *sighs*