Ok so I lied when I said this was done. I think this will be my sad Solavellan dump spot. Feel free to bring tissues.
He's been gone for a month when the sickness starts. At first, it's nothing – Leliana isn't feeling on top of the weather either, so Josie has a word with the cook, and they get rid of a few hams and some mutton. That's not the end, though; after the first unpleasant morning, however, Adhwen keeps it hidden. She's grown adept at hiding the pain; this is just one more thing. She doesn't think twice about it, assuming the sleeplessness and long work hours are playing havoc with her system.
It's not until Cole says something offhand to Dorian – neither he nor Vivienne are particularly health-minded, after all, and the Inquisitor has one hell of a Game face – that Dorian stops digging through the library long enough to pull Adhwen aside. "I know you're fine," he says, impatiently, when she argues. "Just let me give you a checkup; I know you haven't been to the healer, and you've got a lot on your shoulders." She grumbles, but acquiesces.
It's a bad moment when he tells her; she doesn't say anything – and neither does he, as he's learned a thing or two about tact since Redcliffe. He can read it, however, on her brow and the lines of her shoulders (he's learned a thing or two about her since Redcliffe, as well). He's also not surprised when all she does is give him a nod, and a thank you, and a brief hug after about ten minutes of silence, heading off to her room. He just wishes she'd talk to him, or anyone else for that matter. Even as she thanks him her face shows none of the agony of that first week – but he has a small, sad suspicion that no one will see that sort of emotion again. Not from her.
Cole is the one who finds his way to her, wherever she is, most often in those next few weeks. She hasn't told anyone, and frequently the only reason she knows he was around is because there's a mug of honeyed tea waiting for her when she gets to her desk, or a flower on the windowsill, the scent especially good for easing nausea. He can't do the things that he once did, but this is different, anyhow. There's nothing he can tell her she doesn't already know. Still, it makes him ridiculously happy when she comes to sit beside him one afternoon, and gives him a long, wordless hug.
Finally, once the sickness has eased, she tells her advisors one soft, warm afternoon. She's long since filed down the sharpest edges of the secret; even if its blunted corners still hurt, she's numb to them by now. Cullen is probably the most shocked. Leliana has been wondering already, and Josephine – dear Josie – has long ago made contingency plans for any and every outcome that could ever happen. They're still speechless, for long enough that Adhwen has time to turn back to the table to look back over the trade routes; finally, Josie breaks the silence.
"When do you wish to announce it?"
"I don't." The words are quiet. "It's nothing to do with the Inquisition, and even if people know – we'll hardly be able to hide it after a few months – it's not as if I'm going out to hunt dragons every day. If empresses and queens can manage it, I can."
Josie and Leliana exchange glances; Cullen has stepped over to the window to look up at the sky, his heart heavy. Josie nods slowly. "I understand, Inquisitor. But might I ask… at least… what you intend to name him?"
She's quiet for a time, looking down at the table; Josie almost regrets asking, but then Adhwen looks up. She speaks a word in elven, too quiet to hear.
Josie raises an eyebrow. "Pardon?"
A faint smile. "His father was Pride," she says. "My son shall be Wisdom."
All characters belong to BioWare except the personality of Adhwen Lavellan.