Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.
Rating: T+
Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Awakening, Origins DL content, and Dragon Age II as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling.
Chapter Seventy-Four: Harvest Time
Time moved on in its steady fashion. An angry pair of monarchs confronted the Grand Cleric with the captured templars and Loghain's account of what took place in the Aeonar, and all were satisfied by the end that the elderly cleric knew nothing of the activities at the mage's prison. Though she'd heard of its existence that was basically all she knew of it. She wept when she saw the lyrium-bright scars on Loghain's chest and stomach, and the brands on the soles of his feet, and denounced any Priest or templar who took part in the torture as heretical.
Shale took up residence in the memorial park, and soon the squirrel and pigeon population dwindled drastically. She remained a quiet, thoughtful golem, however, and brooded long over the story of her fleshly origins.
Elilia wished for her child to be born in Gwaren, so after a few months to arrange affairs she and Loghain packed up the Denerim household and headed south. The natives greeted their now obviously-pregnant new Teyrna coolly, her Teyrn-Consort with something approaching warmth and a degree of relief.
In the late summer, a messenger arrived from Denerim, bearing a gift for Loghain from Master Wade. The golden longsword, forged from the scales of the felled dragon, was quite dazzling to the eye and fairly sang as it cut the air toward a target, which target was inevitably obliterated upon being struck. The tear stains on the letter Wade sent along attested to the heartfelt emotion of the smith for the honor of having worked such a marvelous piece.
As Elilia's due date neared, and she and Seanna both became more nervous about her condition and that of the baby, Loghain took to making long walks in the forest to get out from underfoot and calm himself of his own fears. Fears that Elilia would become ill or have a difficult, dangerous birth, fears that the baby would not make it, fears that the child would bear the strangeness of the dragon's blood as he did. He did a great deal of hunting on these long walks, running down prey on all fours and tearing it with his teeth and nails. He would never speak of that to a living soul.
Varric came down from the city for the Harvestmere celebration, as he said he would. Laz and Paragon, of course, came with him, but so too did Champion Hawke, Merrill, Bethany, and Captain Isabela, who was always up for a party wherever one was to be found. The baby was expected any day, but Elilia insisted she was well enough to attend the village festival.
"It's an important day to Gwareners," she said, "and they're going to have to get used to seeing me there."
On Loghain's arm, trying her best not to waddle, Elilia toured the food stands and greeted her most immediate subjects. Bann Cauthrien was also present in the village for the festival, and greeted her Teyrna with some worry creasing her features.
"Are you certain you ought to be exerting yourself, Your Grace?" she asked. Her eyes lingered on Elilia's massive ball of a belly beneath the plain shift dress she wore. As if to punctuate the Bann's fears, the baby kicked hard. Elilia smiled weakly.
"The exercise is doing me good," she said. "I've spent too much time cooped up inside lately, it's driving me batty."
As she wandered through the village she heard a good deal of gossip, much of it pertaining to her condition. "She's carrying high - definitely a boy," was the prevalent rumor. She got the distinct impression that she was seen less as a person than as a vessel for the production of "the Teyrn's" child. She tried not to let it bother her. The former Teyrna, after all, had been one of these people born and bred, and they were unlikely ever to accept that she'd been replaced with a Blue-Blood.
Pregnancy made her every bit as ravenous as being a Warden ever had, and she raided the foodstuffs greedily. Abalone and fried clam, fish chowder and oyster stew, turkey drumsticks and chicken feet - if it was meat, she was hungry for it. Seanna nervously joked that the baby must weigh forty pounds if it was an ounce. Elilia herself felt fat and wretched about it, but for whatever reason Loghain still seemed to find her attractive even in this condition. Perhaps it was that fabled "glow" she'd always heard about but never noticed in anyone herself.
As evening drew in the musicale began. The minstrels tuned up and played the old songs, many of which predated the kingdom itself. Elilia tried to settle in and enjoy it, but contractions kept her wincing. They were well-spaced, nothing to worry about, but still…
A powerful contraction hit her, and she grabbed for Loghain's arm. She took deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. "I think…I think this baby wants out," she said as she felt her water break.
Loghain swept her up into his arms immediately. "Seanna, bring the midwife, please," he said, and carried his wife back into the Keep. He put her to bed and held her hand until the women showed up.
"Step out, please, Your Grace," the midwife said, but Elilia squeezed down hard on his hand.
"If I'm going to make it through this with my sanity intact, I need him here," she said.
The midwife was clearly flustered - men weren't supposed to be present when a woman gave birth - but Seanna calmly said, "Very well, my friend, if that's what you need."
The midwife rallied best she could do, and Loghain sat at the head of the bed, holding Elilia's hand and feeling very much out of place but glad, overall, to be there. Her grip on his hand relaxed slightly, but she bore down hard again as another contraction swept her.
"My goodness, we're very nearly ready already," the midwife said, after an inspection beneath the hem of Elilia's dress. "This baby means business."
"Half Cousland, half Mac Tir," Elilia said, with a weak smile. "You'd better believe he means business."
"Or she," Seanna said, with a faint smile.
"Definitely means business, if it's a she," Loghain said. "Always more deadly than the male."
Another contraction hit. "Son of a - " Elilia said.
The baby certainly did mean business. The midwife was not finished making her preparations before she had to leave off, since the child fully intended to come forth with or without hot water and warm towels.
"Let us have done with it, then," she said. "Push, My Lady, push!"
With a deep, gutteral groan, Elilia pushed. In what Loghain could not help but feel must be record time, the midwife stood up with an enormous armful of child. She smacked it on the bottom, and the child cried with fine voice. Seanna cut the cord that tied it to its mother. Elilia flopped back on the pillows, red-faced and sweating and breathing hard.
"Dear sweet Maker, it's huge," she said.
The midwife hefted the child. "I'd guess she weighs a stone easy, My Lady. Sometimes when they're born big like this, means there's a problem with the mother's blood."
"No such problem exists here," Seanna said, with a reassuring pat to Elilia's knee. "Your body is regulating its sugars just fine. She's just a big girl, I suppose."
"It's a girl?" Elilia asked. "Can I hold her?"
"Let me get her washed up first, My Lady," the midwife said. "Once she's clean she could do with a good feeding."
"Are you going to be all right to do that?" Seanna asked, concerned. Elilia blushed, but nodded firmly.
"She's my daughter, not a darkspawn. I can feed her."
"She's beautiful," Loghain said, and stroked Elilia's sweaty hair. "You're beautiful."
"I'm a mess," Elilia said. The midwife returned and laid the child in her arms. "But I do agree she's beautiful."
"What are you going to name her?" Seanna asked.
"Well, I had thought if I had a girl I would name her after our mothers - Eleanor Nerissia Cousland. Now, though, something is telling me that this little girl's name is Harvest."
She let Loghain hold his daughter for a moment before she started to feed her. Loghain looked down into the little red face and wondered if she was simply big or if there was more to it than that. Baby eyes blinked open and wavered uncertainly at the twin silverite disks over his eyes. The chubby little face lit in a bright smile. Loghain was relieved to see no teeth in the child's moist pink gums. It was the only relief he was afforded.
Little Harvest Cousland was too new for the blue of her eyes to be certain, but one thing was: her pupils were straight slit up and down, just like her father's.