Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 39
Brother's Arms
9:36 Dragon, Spring 3, 19th day
"I… I can't believe he did that." Aldo fell into the comfy chair by Elinora's fire. He wiped a hand down his face and stared into the cold hearth.
Maphisa rolled her eyes as she leaned against the wall beside the room. Arms crossed and eyes on the door, she was quite the bodyguard. Elinora was looking forward to the elf and Sten getting to know each other.
"And you have no idea where Rainer went?" Burion was pacing around the room, straightening things. He liked order and Elinora's room was anything but. Babies tended to throw things into chaos, even before they could actually throw things.
"None." Elinora shook her head and leaned back against her pillows. Petra was still insisting that she stay in bed. It was getting a little ridiculous.
Aldo drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Knowing him, he's going to try and track down Morrigan and her child. He'll try to fix his mistake."
"Or he's going to join them," Elinora muttered. Everyone stared at her, even Alcina stopped playing with Duncen long enough for an explanation. Elinora cleared her throat. "Barth told me that Morrigan and Rainer had become lovers. She could have quite a hold over him by now."
Burion and Aldo gaped at her like she had told them that Rainer had grown wings. Maphisa and Alcina exchanged puzzled looks, though the elf's had a touch of 'I told you so' so it. Elinora just rubbed her eyes and tried not to think about it.
The speculative silence stretched until Alcina's patented mischievous grin appeared. "We really should have stuck around. Looks like we missed all the good stuff."
Elinora witty retort was interrupted by a light knock on the door. Twyla poked her head into the room. "Dinner is just about ready, and Petra has given her blessing for you to join us tonight."
"Thank the Maker," Elinora sighed and slid out of bed. "One little fainting spell and I'm back to invalid. All of you out, so I can get dressed properly."
The Wardens filed out, Aldo and Burion lost in thought and Maphisa rolling her eyes yet again as Alcina made some more cooing noises and put Duncen back into his cradle.
Twyla helped Elinora dress, still in loose gowns with unbinding bodices. Elinora scowled in the mirror. "When do I get to wear something not ridiculously frumpy?"
Twyla responded by lightly poking Elinora in the belly. Elinora flinched. "When that doesn't hurt, my lady."
"Right," Elinora muttered, staring into the mirror at a woman she barely knew.
"You left Orbert in charge of Amaranthine?" Elinora passed the bowl of potatoes down the long table where generations of Couslands had eaten meals together. Tonight it was crowded with Wardens and friends, Alistair at its head, Cailin happily situated between Maphisa and Alcina. It seemed right, even if was a bit strange.
Burion swallowed his bite of venison before answering. "He's good at that sort of thing. Turns out, he's some sort of prince."
"Oh yes," Aldo chimed in. "The fifth son of the king of the Anderfels. Its tradition; any son after the third goes to the Grey Wardens, for training if nothing else."
"Let me get this straight," Alistair leaned in, emphasizing his point with his fork. "You left a foreign prince running a Ferelden arling?"
Burion shrugged. "I left a capable Grey Warden running a Grey Warden compound." He turned to Elinora. "He sends his regards and says he will be sending a cradle gift along as soon as it's ready. And no, I don't know what it is."
Speculation ran around the table, mostly consisting of baby's first weapon, until the crash of the doors being thrown open interrupting them.
"Where is she?"
Fergus Cousland strode into the Hall, an angry glare searching the faces at the table.
"Not again," Alistair muttered as he stood. "She's right here." He waved a hand at Elinora, who rose and returned her brother's glare.
"Not her!" Fergus boomed. "Twyla."
"You can quit thundering at the guests, I'm right here." Twyla swept into the Hall, gracefully setting aside the bottle of wine she had just brought up from the cellar. She met his eyes and squared her shoulders, elegant arms sweeping towards the corridor and his study. "Shall we go…"
"What's the meaning of this?" Fergus produced a piece of parchment, clutched in his fist.
Twyla's chin raised and her voice was calm as she answered. "I think its pretty clear."
"How long have you known?" Fergus demanded, still waving the battered piece of parchment at her.
"What's the date on the letter?" she replied calmly.
He looked at it. "The ninth."
"Since about then."
Elinora slammed her tankard on the table and stood. "That's enough! Will one of you please let the rest of us in on the crisis?"
Fergus crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on the floor. "She's pregnant, and has kindly offered to go back to Soldier's Peak and not trouble me again."
Twyla's mouth twitched. "I thought it might be for the best."
"I'll be damned," Fergus growled, rounding on Alistair. "Your majesty, is there a bloody priest left in Highever? Or have you run them all off?"
Twyla's jaw dropped as Alistair looked for an answer. Sybila raised a cautious if amused hand from further down the table. "Revered Mother Eartha is still in the village. She's officially retired, but still conducts ceremonies when needed."
Fergus gave a curt nod. "Good." He strode across the room to Twyla, pulled her body to his, and kissed her deep and hard. She fought him for a moment before they melted together as the kiss went on and on.
Alistair looked to Elinora. "Did you know?"
She shook her head and glanced over to Petra, who nodded with a smug smile.
"Of course," Alistair muttered with a grin. He turned his attention to Fergus and Twyla, still wrapped up in each other. With a very pronounced throat clearing, he said, "Teryn Cousland, my apologizes for interrupting, but, um, what have you done with the army?"
Fergus broke the kiss, but not his hold on Twyla. "There's a contingent of one hundred a few hours behind me. I, er, got a bit impatient," he looked to Twyla with a soft smile. The rest is still at the border and in excellent hands." Fergus remembered himself and whom he was talking to. His posture straightened as he loosened his hold on his betrothed. "I have a full report for his majesty at his convenience."
"Anything dire?"
"Not at all."
"Then it will wait until first thing in the morning." Alistair stood, offering Fergus his traditional place at the head of the Cousland table. "Sit, eat, if Barth has left any dinner behind."
The big Warden snorted. "I'm sure there's a hoof or two left."
"And if you'll excuse me, I believe its someone's bed time." Alistair gave Cailin a pointed look that he scowled at, but graciously rose from the table. He tugged Elinora's sleeve with a small pleading look.
Elinora left her seat and took Cailin's hand. She paused a moment to give Fergus a kiss and whisper, which made him chuckle, then allowed herself to be lead out by her love and eldest son.
They were down the corridor when Fergus realized she wasn't pregnant anymore.
Half an hour later, Fergus found his sister in her room, Duncen happily nursing at her breast. He leaned against her door and watched the very picture of maternal love. "Now's there's some I never thought I would live to see."
"Didn't think anyone would have me?" she said with a wry grin.
"Nah, just imagined a string of jilted lovers across the countryside. No settling down into motherhood for you."
Elinora snorted a laugh. "I doubt there's going to be much settling down of any kind, mother or no." Duncen finished with a snuffle and Elinora got herself decent. "Come here and met your nephew."
Fergus walked across the room slowly. Carefully, he took Duncen out of Elinora's hands. "So you're what all the fuss is about, eh?" Fergus paced a bit, bouncing Duncen as he did. "You're cuter than your mum was."
Elinora stuck her tongue out at him.
"So, what happened?"
She told the story as best she could, trying to gloss over the parts that would worry her occasionally overprotective brother. What was done was done and she didn't need chiding from one of the few people who wouldn't hesitate to do so. When it was done, she had questions of her own. "When did you and Twyla…?"
Fergus sighed and tucked Duncen into his cradle. "Mid-winter. It wasn't supposed to be…" His voice trailed off.
"I understand, but now?"
He grimaced and turned to the window. "I have no intention of leaving bastard babies lying around. Besides, I missed…"
His thought was cut off by his sister's sob. Fergus turned as Elinora face fell into her hands. He rushed to her and knelt by her chair. "I am such an ass, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"
"Of course you didn't," she snapped. "Just like you didn't mean anything by that rot when you came in here. Fergus, why did I ever think I could do this? Should do this?"
Duncen started to wail with his mother. She swore and went to collect him from the cradle. Their sobs faded together, her soothing words easing both of them.
Fergus smiled as he stood. "Look at that. You're a natural. Could or should doesn't matter. You are." He gently embraced his little sister and kissed her forehead. "And I'm proud of you." With a light squeeze to her shoulder, he stepped back. "But I am off to bed. Have to report to His Majesty tomorrow, and then go pick a fight with the bastard who knocked my baby sister up and hasn't married her yet."
Elinora scowled. "Then get hung for treason by lunch. What an excellent day you've planned."
"I try." With a wink, Fergus left her and Duncen for the evening.
Elinora looked down at her infant son and bumped her nose to his. "We're going to have lots of bad influences to keep from you."