Fix 5/19)

It took an assault on the location in the Arbor Wilds and negotiations with the oddest sentinels ever set to guard a temple, but they had made it. Morrigan raced ahead, Bethy hot on her trail as her trio of followers attempted to catch up. At the ending, the witch felt the call of the waters and let her breath catch. This, she realized, was the destiny she had been meant for. Always. She looked back to Bethany, the Inquisitor, pleading for her chance as Solas, Cole, and Carver came into view.

"If the Well is knowledge it is not meant for one person," Bethany argued quickly, locking eyes. "Do not take the burden alone your majesty."

"What do you suggest? That we let it go? Drain it, leave the knowledge to be lost to the ages?"

"No. I would share this burden, if it can be split." She looked back to Solas. "Is such a thing possible?"

"It has not been heard of, but neither had I heard tell of the Well. The concept does have merit."

"Then let us try." Morrigan assented, stepping in time with Bethany into the waters. There was a flow, and the sensations fluttered around them. They both held tightly, the swirls of magic a frightening thing as they felt the knowledge realign. Then, just as suddenly, the weight of it brought both women to their knees, but both clung tightly to the other. When the sensation abated, there was no more time to think- instead, both let the darkness take over as they collapsed, just barely cognizant as Carver grabbed one over each shoulder and hurried as the eluvian provided escape.

When Bethany awoke, she heard the words in her ears and knew she had to speak with Morrigan. They were hushed whispers, too quiet to make out on her own. She sought out the witch, finding the woman reading a book in the garden and laughing. Bethany sat beside her, reaching out. "Morrigan."

"Hawkeling." Morrigan set the book down, Bethany seeing it was written fully in elvhen. She chose to ignore the insult.

"These whispers are elvhen, aren't they?"

Morrigan gaped, then shook her head. "You have no idea what you are hearing, do you?"

Bethany rolled her eyes. "How would I?"

"The Well will tell you what it means to say, if you let it."

Bethany closed her eyes and sought the details, deep down, and she heard it. It spoke to her briefly, then dissipated nearly as quickly. "I hear snippets," she admitted. "Nothing solid."

"Then we must keep trying so that your part of the knowledge is not lost. In the meantime, there are many things we must discuss..."

- Later that evening -

Bethany went up the stairs to the top of the Warden tower to find Marian and Fiona playing cards over the desk. The red-head glared over the edges of her cards at the older mage and sighed. "I'm out."

Fiona breathed in, relief flooding. "My hand then."

"Am I intruding?"

"Not at all Inquisitor" came in time with "Bethy! Save me!" as both women dropped their cards.

Bethany allowed herself a wide grin. "I think I'll be ending your game, Mari, but you aren't going to like it. Well- maybe. I had an interesting talk with Morrigan."

Marian rolled her eyes. "And what does the Witch of Fereldan have to say? Is she looking for another romp through the Wilds?"

"No," Bethany responded a bit too quickly. "Well that too, but that wasn't the most interesting part. She actually wanted me to ask what you might do if a betrothal contract materialized for Leandra to Keiran."

Marian paused. Two minutes later she had not moved. Fiona stood and tapped the Commander on the arm, but she remained stock-still. "Howe?"

Bethany came on Marian's other side and poked her shoulder. "I... think I broke my sister."

- 0 - 0 -

Bethany's steps finally led up up to the rookery, every footfall bringing her closer to Leliana's lair. The last one brought her eye-to-eye with the object of affection. The spymaster turned as she approached, as if she had already known Bethany was coming. Maybe she did. Often the strange woman seemed to know her mage better than Bethany knew herself.

Leliana had a grand smile plastered on her face, one arm reaching out. "My dear dove."

"Leliana."

"I promised we would speak," the red-head offered. "I suppose, after all you have done for me, it is long past time."

"It is," Bethany agreed, taking a place at the window.

"You once suggested I may need to forge a new path," Leliana started. "It seems you were right. The Divine was right. I have walked where the Maker led me and I have been rewarded for my faith. It is time to set down the burden. I have found you."

Bethany blushed profusely. "Me, Leliana?"

"You are my path, Dove. The Maker wants his children to be happy. I cannot believe He would have created in us the capacity for love if he did not mean for us to find it."

"Love?" Bethany let the surprise hit her voice.

"That's right. Love. That gloriously rich, decadent emotion that you are hopelessly stuck in upon finding it." Leliana moved in closely, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. "And I do find myself stuck, dove."

Bethany eased into the embrace, pushing her body forward to meet Leliana even closer. "Stuck in love. I could get used to that."

They kissed again, this time Leliana forceful in her request. They held on tightly to each other for minutes like that, exploring the more intimate closeness before Leliana pulled away. "It is bedtime. My bed is soft, but intimately small..."

"My room," Bethany suggested breathlessly. "More than enough room for two there."

-Meanwhile, in the top room of the inn-

Carver pulled the two naked women in his arms into him, one on each side. They curled in happily, and Carver nuzzled the two naked frames gently./

"That's enough to last a while," Merrill sighed happily.

"I suppose so."

Carver looked down at his two wives. "Am I missing something my loves?"

"I'm pregnant," Merrill blurted out. Then, giving in to snark and her tendency to prattle, she continued, "Not sure if it's yours or Izzy's, or least I wouldn't be if Izzy wasn't a girl, so it's gotta be your da'len...that is, I hope you wanted a da'len...a child."

Carver kissed the elf-girl's forehead. "A family sounds nice."

"Thank goodness for that," Isabella chimed in, grabbing his hand and putting it to her stomach. "Then you don't mind a couple of kids running around the ship."

Stunned, Carver rolled his eyes. "You're both... Maker's breath, girls! You're going to be the death of me."

"Not going to happen, love," the two assured in tandem before curling back into bed beside him.

It was going to be a strange year.

-In the Warden Tower-

Marian had fallen asleep at her desk. Nathaniel smiled as he walked in on her and turned off the candle, picking her up in his arms. She was lighter than he remembered, but at least in the dimness he could ignore the scarring on her arms from those past two years. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, waking slightly with a gasp.

"Just me love," he assured, feeling her ease in his hold. "Try to get back to sleep."

"'M sleeping," she grumbled, nuzzling into his neck.

"Yes you are," he hushed, letting her slack into his hold. A few steps later he deposited her into bed, falling in beside her and wrapping arms around her waist. "I'll be right beside you."

Marian grabbed for his hand, and Nathaniel easily gave it over. The next day would bring changes, but this would not be one of them.