"There's a light headed feeling, you may lose a day sleeping it off, but then freedom. No more nightmares or hunger. However, be careful to avoid any, um, unexpected accidents."
He blinked a moment, then lifted up a smile at the idea, "Commander, did they fail to tell you about the birds & the bees in the Circle? I swear, I thought we all got the same harrowing tale of disease and ruin from that man who was nothing but fat rolls."
"Ha ha," she rolled her eyes, "but I'm serious. Something in it makes people extra fertile."
Anders laughed, "I doubt that will be a problem seeing as how Hawke's got a good five or so years on you." He shook his damn cocksure head again, then blinked, the idea finally striking his airy head, "How long did you wind up pregnant after taking it?"
"Four months for me, but with Reiss she was knocked up in under one. So..."
That gave him pause again. So many years of nothing and then two women with full wombs in a narrow timeframe was rather terrifying. Lana had no clue what ignited their fertility but it must be powerful. Shaking his head, Anders chuckled, "No, not Hawke. With her life, she would never..."
Suddenly, the potions door threw open and Hawke shrieked at the top of her lungs, "Did you know babies can sneeze?!" Little Gavin blinked in concern while trapped in the loud woman's arms, but seemed generally content.
Chuckling at her, Lana slid forward and tried to mop up the line of snot her son sprayed out of his nose. "Yes, they can do everything people can, within some reason." He was so beautiful, those amber eyes focusing on his mother and the thick lips lifting into a great smile at her nearness. It surprised her nearly every time she stared at her baby. How can the Maker create something this adorable?
"Maker's sake," Cullen gasped, skidding in behind Hawke and clutching to his side. "How in the void do you move so fast?"
"Long legs," Hawke said with total sincerity before glancing down at them. "Are you gonna have long legs?" she returned to the baby. "Oh, shit," her voice lifted so fast from its baby talking nasally tone to crushing seriousness nearly everyone snapped to attention, "does he have the Amell birthmark too?"
"Amell...?" Cullen asked, trying to squeeze his hands down below Hawke's arms in the off chance she suddenly dropped their son.
"You know," she tipped her head back and forth, "Lana's got hers on her neck, mine's right across my..." Hawke moved to point at her ass, but Anders cut her off.
"I don't think they need to know about that."
"What? Cuz here's seen it," she elbowed Lana in the ribs, Gavin giggling as he undulated in the Champion's arms. "Remember the thorn patch."
That earned a deep groan from Lana, memories of her wild year with her new found cousin flashing back. "Far too well."
"And Bethy's mark. She got hers on her..."
"Hawke!"
"On her arm, right underneath kinda near her armpit," the woman blinked in confusion at the people rounding on her. "What'd you think I was gonna say?"
Lana waved her hand then shifted closer to her boy, "Never mind. He does have a mark, not as large as mine. I didn't realize it was a family trait." She unbuttoned a small section of pajama directly over Gavin's stomach. "Right beside his belly button." The baby giggled at his mother smoothing her fingers over the dark patch of skin that could almost be confused for a larger mole.
"Does that look like a crown to anyone?" Hawke asked, her eyes squinting.
"What?" Cullen dashed forward staring at his son's belly as if he'd never seen him before.
"Nope, that's a cactus. Had it upside down," the woman smiled at the mother before glancing back at Cullen's panicked face. "Don't go telling me you think there's some fancy prophecy with these? Ain't like Lana here became known for raising flowers. I think that's what that is."
"That..." his honey eyes softened a beat while staring at Lana's, but she knew the fear in his heart. The idea of his son having anything to do with the crown or the Theirin family put him in a tizzy. She suspected in Cullen's mind their boy would become the farmer he never was. A simple, quiet life with few chances of torment and demons. She didn't have it in her to voice that with their blood, it was highly unlikely their child would live anything simple.
Nestled in his aunt's arms, Gavin made a few more gurgles, his hands slapping together in what might one day be considered a clap. "Oh," Hawke buried her nose tight to that little tummy and cooed, "whatza matter? You want to become some great hero and you're worried your dad'll stop you? Just call on ol' auntie Hawke. I'll get you the really big sword."
"There is a chance the child will be a mage," Anders spoke up. He stared defiantly at Cullen, as if daring the ex-templar to insist no son of his would ever be a dangerous, impure mage.
Cullen cupped his hand around Gavin's head, smoothing down the strings of dark hair that kept appearing with every day. "A very powerful mage, indeed," he smiled at his son before turning to Lana. She knew he'd always love his son no matter what came, but trusting him with that kind of power might be a challenge. Still, it did her heart good to watch Cullen easily accept the possibility, and to turn and catch Anders crumbling as his little barb failed to hurt.
"So," Hawke glanced around, "a sword staff then? Your cane staff's pretty sweet too. No one sees it coming." Gavin lifted his lips into a big smile, a focus rising to his eyes. "You like that? A shiny cane like your Mommy to take down bad guys and...Oh."
Hawke began to dangle the baby off her extended arms, Gavin kicking his legs in the ain as a tell tale odor wafted from his backside. "I think he made a little stinky. Big stinky. Maker's sake, what are you feeding him?"
"Here," Cullen scooped up his son out of Hawke's arms, "I'll handle it."
While he tipped his head up to get a not feces scented breath of air, Lana called out, "The clean nappies are..."
"By the fire, I know," Cullen nodded and then vanished out the door with their main source of entertainment.
"Too damn cute," Hawke muttered to herself as father and son dashed down the stairs to find a change of pants, "aside from the other end, but not many are lucky enough to get that part to be cute."
"A few do," Anders cut in, sliding his arm around Hawke's back.
The Champion laughed with her full spirit as she did with everything, then bonked her forehead to Anders. They'd been loving but distant when Lana first ran into them in the deep roads. Something had changed, Hawke more willing to wrap Anders up in her arms and the man happier to give it back. Fearing the one you loved had died or was beyond your reach was an eye opener. One she knew far too well.
After she finished staring in rapture at her gaunt mage, Hawke glanced over and in a slightly colder voice asked, "Did you two have a good talk up here, or..."
"Yes, love," Anders cut in first. He turned from her to stare at Lana and a tender smile broke against his face. "It was a good one."
"Got everything out in the open like? Now we can all be best friends forever?"
Lana coughed at the idea, "Let's not go that far."
"She's nowhere near as bad as the elf," Anders said under his breath. Lana had no idea who he meant, but his avoidance of a name and all but spitting the placeholder told her enough.
Hawke laughed at that, "Good, 'cause I want to see my little Gavin when I can and last thing I need to deal with is you two threatening to fist each other."
"I, uh..." Lana blanched, whipping her head first to Hawke who meant every word, then to Anders who was angrily blushing, "Do the what?"
"Forget it," Anders waved his hand. The sneer broke as his eyes turned over to the bottle Lana gifted him, the one that could change his future in ways he'd never thought possible. "Hawke?" She stared down at him, waiting for Anders to work up the nerve to ask what seemed blisteringly obvious. "Do you...want children?"
"Are you kidding me?" Hawke gasped. "I've got Varric to take care of, and he's like having triplets inside of one body. No thank you." A breath of relief escaped from Anders, the man all but folding in half at not facing the yoke o
f progeny. "Nah, all I want is to tickle 'em, give raspberries on tummies, then hand 'em over to Dad when they fill their drawers."
At that pronouncement, Hawke beamed a wide smile at Lana. She was ecstatic to be the somewhat eccentric Aunt for Gavin, and Lana was grateful for it. The Champion was the last family Lana ever expected to find or want, but she was blessed for having her in her life. Suddenly, the smile dimmed and an almost sheepish Hawke butted her forehead against the side of Anders' cheek to whisper, "What about...? You don't want to, um...?"
"No, I'm content with you. And on occasion seeing your nephew," he added, tipping his head to Lana. As she accepted his gratitude, Anders scooped the bottle into his hands off the counter and placed it safely into his pocket. So many of her people she failed. It felt uplifting to save even just one of them.
"Now that that's settled, there's a baby that I have to tickle and then teach how to swing a sword," Hawke rubbed her hands together then began to stomp out the door to find Cullen and Gavin.
"That, uh..." Lana tried to race after, but the woman's great gait made it hard, "he's not capable of holding anything yet!"
"Give it up, Commander. When Hawke's got her heart set on something..."
Lana ducked her head down and laughed, "The fade itself shifts to make it so. Come on, you and Cullen can trade glares about the plight of mages over dinner."
The man who started the rebellion, who destroyed a chantry, and had a spirit of justice merged into his soul smiled at her. She should hate him, she could, but he was one of hers and always would be. "What are we having?"
"Stew," she admitted, "Oh, and those little cookies that they used to serve in the tower for dessert."
Anders laughed at that, "You know, that may be the only thing I liked about the Circle."
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
Legitimate
3 weeks old...
Normally, he'd pace about the room while people bickered over vitally important things like the proper configuration for tying their shoes but the quiet bundle in his arms required Alistair to plop into his throne. He did keep one leg up on the arm rest though; there was still that reputation of his to maintain.
"So, you and Bann Gillian were both promised the same strip of land?" Alistair spoke to the court. He'd managed to avoid all the crown stuff for a little while officially on account of the holiday, but more because people didn't trust their King with any important decisions while running on so little sleep. Alas, even the leader of the country couldn't hide from work forever. He was too big to fit inside the cupboard.
"That's correct, Your Majesty," Bann Rian tipped lower. "Our Arl had entrusted to me and my holdings any land upon the west bank of the river in the year 7:97."
"Which is a load of horse shit and you know it, Rian," Gillian shouted from her little stand. A throng of people flocked both, the underlings passing up information and generally trying to look as intimidating as one could in those stupid little red hats that were all the rage. "This was before the occupation, which renders everything null and void under the articles of..."
Her voice faded away to background as Alistair caught a tiny flash of green prodding up from below the blankets. Myra'd been asleep for the entire ass crushing proceedings, only the occasional smack of her toothless lips letting on that he held a baby in his arms and not stolen laundry. Now she peered up in curiosity watching her Daddy do the thing he hated but was apparently the only person in thedas that could manage to do it.
"Sire...Sire?" Gillian shrieked louder, her hands flapping to get his attention.
"Unless a bee just flew up your sleeve, I think you can lower your arms," Alistair snickered.
The Bann sneered but did as commanded. He nodded his thanks then shifted Myra to the other arm in order to get blood flow back. That set Gillian off, the woman fuming and trying to whisper to the people behind her, but in her rage and thanks the acoustics of the hall everyone heard her groan, "Unbelievable!"
Alistair sat up higher at that, "What was that?"
She dug her pale hands into the pillar behind her, no doubt wishing it was his neck, but spat out, "Nothing, your Majesty."
"Are you sure, because it seems like you really want to tell me something that's weighing on your mind," he tipped Wheaty up to his shoulder and let her cute little face begin to gnaw all over the royal finery. The blanket slipped away revealing her soft head and the wash of blonde hair. Nearly every eye in the place suddenly peered close at the baby. It wasn't until he took to patting her back that he realized they weren't trying to see how adorable she was but to get a look at her ears.
Yup, human-ish. Her eyes were gigantic, but Alistair figured that'd work to her advantage. It sure did melt his heart every time he slipped in to walk her around the castle. The rest of her was all baby; teeny, tiny, precious, and very pink. He forgot just how pink they got.
"Sire, I..." Bann Rian stepped forward, the calmer of the two who'd been arguing for the past hour over a scrap of land that couldn't even feed one cow. "Perhaps it is in everyone's best interest if you, um..."
"If I what?" Alistair sounded perfectly innocent, his hand patting into his daughter's little butt to bounce her up and down against his chest.
"It's only that the distraction in your, that is, I mean," the guy danced around not saying what he was clearly aching too.
Bann Gillian spun around and spat out, "Have you even listened to a word anyone's said?!"
Alistair paused in soothing his little Wheaty and glared over at the pair of them. "You, Gillian, are upset because Rian, your neighbor for Maker as long as Calenhad got everyone to stop fighting with each other in order to form this country, has suddenly lain claim to a piece of land you couldn't give two shits about. Which is why you're here fighting tooth and nail to get it back, because he suddenly wants it. So the only question really being unspoken here is what's on it; gold, ore, precious jewels, or was it some ancient ritual site where blood mages sacrificed demons?"
The two Bann's eyes shot open wide at his not only paying attention but getting right at their problem. As if he hadn't seen this kind of shit over and over before. "And you better not be raising any blighted dead out there Rian because we're low on templars and the knights are not fans of dealing with revenants."
"No, your Majesty," Rian all but fell to the floor to beg for forgiveness, "I swear, there is no...nothing of the sort."
"Right, good," Alistair nodded. "Then the Treaty of River Dane only negates any holdings transferred by Orlesian houses of power. Seeing as how both of you lay claim to Fereldens and those who cozied up to the occupiers the original deal still stands."
It took a moment before Gillian sneered at her loss, she was still trying to hide the shame of her grandparents being on the side of the Orlesians, same as Rian. As the fact he won struck, the man smiled wide. "Thank you, your Majesty, for your fair ruling."
"And," Alistair cut him off, returning to bouncing his baby girl, "with the rumors swirling of dark magics on the land, I don't think you'll mind if the crown takes a little look-see around just to make sure. Without the templar order, it's our job to protect you from any potential undead and demons."
"That, um," Rian gulped, his eyes drifting to the side where the real brains behind his new operation sat.
"Of course, should the knights stumble across any new and previously undiscovered valuables they'll be certain to secure away the fair amount for any taxes you may owe." Alistair grinned right at his crumbling face, then he turned his focus fully upon the bright green eyes staring at her little fist, "Isn't that right, Wheaty? I think it is."
The baby made a little crinkle of her nose and then returned to dripping her personal brand of drool down the front of his shirt. Maker take him, but he missed that feeling. "Well, I think we're done here," Alistair looked up and caught Karelle's eye. She waved towards the guards to helpfully guide both a distraught Gillian and Rian out the door. "Who's next?" he asked towards Karelle, just as the absolute last person Al
istair wanted to see edged up to the complaining podium.
It had some fancy and ancient name in Tevene with lots of extra secret letters, but that's what it really was. His various citizens would walk up to the thing, cough, then proceed to blame him for everything that ever went wrong in their lives up to and including the boil on their ass. It almost made Alistair wish he had the power to grant boils; there'd be a lot more people unable to sit down. This man in particular came for every court and always with the same three complaints: His neighbor was far too loud (which was impressive as he lived near the blighted cemetery). He tried to purchase some good from some store (the details rotated by the week) and either found it rotten or broken. And, finally, he really hated all the young people. Why couldn't the King have a war or something to clear them out?
The man shuffled up and banged his hand on the podium when the doors opened and the only person Alistair wanted to see came streaking past the court. Reiss had on one of his tunics, barely belted so it almost looked as if she still had the baby inside her. She cast a quick glance at the complaining man who glared at the elf (Oh yes, he often complained about the elves doing elfy things as well), then dashed down the aisle towards the King. About midway towards him, Reiss' cheeks lit up in a blush as she must have realized how it looked and the woman turned towards Karelle.
The Chamberlain feigned listening as the elf shouted at the King through her, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Being yelled at by my citizens, pretty typical Wednesday," Alistair shot back with a smile.
He expected a laugh but Reiss gritted her teeth, "Why is Myra here?"
"To see Daddy at work," Alistair chuckled before placing a soft kiss to her little forehead. He couldn't wait for when she started smiling. Making his kids giggle was often the only reason Alistair got out of bed.
"For all the...and you let him?" Reiss turned on Karelle, who hadn't said much about the King sitting down with his child.
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