"He's a hungry little one," Joscelyn said. She was magnificent and glowing, sitting next to him in the driving seat of the wagon. Still thick around the middle, although she assured him that would pass, but otherwise back to how she had been when he first met her, eight months ago. The baby - Anders she said she wanted to call him, although he didn't know why - was nursing. He'd been nursing or sleeping for the past day.
"Are you sure you're all right to travel?" he asked. He was somewhat astonished at her ability to recuperate, even though he knew about her special circumstances. Not that he'd ever seen a woman give birth before, but he truly hadn't expected it to take that long.
"Felix, I'm fine. We had to move in any case - they would have felt me in Highever."
He frowned. "I'm glad we finished trading then," he said. "Will they come after us?"
"They won't know which direction to go in," she said, with a satisfied smile. "We're safe as long as we're on the move. And luckily," she gave him a brilliant smile, "we're always on the move."
He took her free hand and squeezed it. He was amazed, sometimes, that a woman like her would choose to be his wife. She had not needed to marry him, even pregnant with another man's child she seemed perfectly capable of looking after herself, selling potions and poultices to villages as she traveled around the country. They had traveled together for convenience, after meeting in Lothering and talking over dinner in the inn. He discovered she was a healer - she discovered he traded arms and armour and any other trinkets he could barter for. He had a wagon, she had an old gelding who had seen better days. He offered to let her accompany him when he found out she was pregnant and stuck in Lothering until she could acquire a wagon of her own.
For four months they traveled together, and he found himself falling in love with everything about her. She could be quiet and thoughtful, or merry and loquacious depending on the patient she was attending. With him, she was guarded at first, until they had a discussion about magic and he let her know his true feelings about the Circle. Then she started to open up more and he discovered the kindness and good humour she showed to those patients who needed it was closest to her true personality. She had little bad to say about anyone or anything, which was refreshing next to his usually dour outlook and cynicism. She chided him gently when he was sarcastic or critical, but often he saw her eyes twinkle with laughter.
He had expected her to turn him down, but she had fixed him with her gaze and kissed him thoroughly when he asked her to be his wife.
They merged their businesses. They were doing very well for themselves - people always needed healing, always needed a merchant, and people had assumed the child was his.
That could be a problem now, of course. The babe looked nothing like either of them - his pale hair and indeterminate eyes (Joscelyn assured him they would settle on a colour later) could have marked him as someone else's entirely.
She never told him who the father was. He didn't ask.
They were heading for Denerim, with a stop in Amaranthine on the way, but they were taking back roads. He had been dubious, the first time she insisted on back roads, worried about bandits, wild animals...
Until they'd met some. He had some skill with a bow, but he'd barely had to reach for it. Now he wasn't worried at all.
His father would have scoffed at him, relying on a woman to defend them. But he had inherited his practicality from his mother's side of the family. If his father had ever had to face the snarling jaws of a wolf leaping for his throat he probably would have changed his mind.
By Amaranthine she looked just like she had when he'd first seen her in Lothering. Tall, slender and willowy. Anders was constantly strapped to her chest in a complicated wrap that kept him secure and allowed him to nurse - it was almost as though he was still tucked up tight in her womb. She didn't let him slow her down, administering poultices and doctoring to the villages they stopped at on the way with all of her usual vigour.
They stayed at the Crown and Lion in Amaranthine - the innkeeper knew them well and showed them to their usual room. Felix sighed and sank into a chair as she busied herself with setting up the room - a crib for Anders, the top of a dresser converted for changing him.
"You seem to know everything there is to know about looking after a baby," he said, watching her. He'd been bewildered and awed the first time he'd held the child, terrified he'd break him or make him hate him somehow. Anders had simply looked up at him with wide solemn eyes for a few moments before closing them and falling asleep. Obviously he had no trouble with being a baby, the look had seem to say. Why should Felix?
"I'm the eldest of six, remember," she said, smiling at him.
"I choose to believe you are just intrinsically perfect," he said.
"That is your job, my love," she said, settling Anders into his crib. She made her way over to him and settled in his lap. "Do you want children? Of your own?"
"With you, absolutely," he said.
"Even though they'll possibly... "
"Be like you? Especially because of that."
She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "It's going to be difficult," she said. "Teaching him not to give himself away. It was very difficult for me."
"How did your parents manage?"
"My parents never knew," she said. "I was taught by someone else."
He sat up a little straighter at that, interested. "Who?" he asked.
"There was a circle mage - he lived on a farm outside our village," she frowned. "He was in the circle for more than thirty years before they finally let him out. He told me that no matter how dangerous we were, we deserved the chance to prove ourselves before we were locked up."
"The Rivaini have no circle."
"Perhaps we should move there."
He smiled. "It's a rough place, my love," he said. "But we can go there, if you like. Raising little Anders and any other additions... it will be hard, but not in the same way." He considered for a moment. He had spent only a few years of his young life in his mother's homeland, but there were some memories of it that made the idea of returning less than palatable. "Of course there's always the chance that we're found by Qun converts. I have no wish to see you leashed."
She shuddered. "No, there are some places worse than Ferelden for mages," she said. "And I love it here. Since King Maric freed us from the Orlesians, it has been a happy place. And we can do so much good."
"And make so much coin!" he added, grinning. "The way Ferelden nobles spend money - you'd think they'd never seen it before."
"They'll calm down soon enough," she said. "It's the giddyness of freedom. Actually being able to spend your own money, rather than hand it over to Orlesians? Very good for business. I'd give it two more years before you'll need to drop your prices."
He rubbed his hands together in mock glee. There was a cry from the crib and he moved to let her up, but she shook her head and snuggled against him. "Give him a moment, he might settle down."
He stroked her hair and listened to the small snuffles and cries from the crib for a few minutes. Sure enough, he settled down again. "Not hungry," she said, lightly poking him in the ribs. "Not wet. Just grumpy. We should sleep - it's our first time in a proper bed for weeks."
"Sleep only?" he said.
She smiled ruefully. "For another few weeks, I'm afraid," she said. "Even with my healing magic, there are some things that should not be attempted."
"Ah well," he said. "I suppose I can wait. And sleep will be nice."
She pulled him to his feet and kissed him, thoroughly. He held her gently, thinking how lucky he was to have found her.