Love's Blush

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  Beatrice looked exhausted but she acquiesced, "Very well."

  After planting a slobbery kiss to Myra's cheek, Cailan skipped out on his mother's arm, singing a song about inch worms much to Beatrice's delight. In the wake of the Queen's retreat her group bowed their heads again and murmured more, "Your Majesties."

  It wasn't until the door closed tight that all the heads snapped up and honed in on Reiss. "Was that the Queen queen?"

  "Maker's sake. No, Jorel. There are a good dozen copies running around the palace grounds pretending to be Beatrice."

  "She's not as tall as I would have expected," Qimat mused to herself.

  "Never met a Queen before. Met a man who claimed to be the Queen of Antiva, but that was only on Thursday nights at the Pearl," Kurt whispered more to himself than anyone else.

  It was Lunet who folded her arms and sighed, "Not like we all didn't know who the father was."

  "Yeah, but...whenever A's in the agency he's just so not royal, you know," Jorel argued with Lunet.

  "A man who can't find his mount with the bridle tied to his hands," Qimat agreed.

  Reiss' arms began to give out and she snuggled Myra back into them. Her baby gave a bit of a fuss at missing out on all those funny shapes in front of her, but the kicking legs faded as sleep snuck back in. She'd had a big day.

  "We should leave you be," Lunet said, catching on that the baby was going down for a nap.

  "Nonsense," Reiss shook her head. "Let me put Myra to bed and then we can all get caught up in the solarium down the hall." She settled her baby onto her back, trying to trap her in place with a few stuffed griffins and pillows. Barely out and the kid was already doing everything she could to flip over onto her stomach.

  "Is that smart?" Jorel asked, "Leaving her alone, I mean. What if something happens?"

  "Trust me, she's got a powerful wail that can travel nearly across the castle. And I don't think she's old enough to get into the poison and dagger box yet," Reiss snickered. Her crew gathered around the crib, every eye watching her beautiful girl yawn before those bright green eyes slid away under her thin lids. To speed up the process, Reiss rocked the ingenious crib a bit, the cradle part swaying her baby off to the fade.

  "Well," Lunet wrapped an arm around her shoulder, "we know one thing for sure, Rat. You certainly gave birth to the King's brat."

  "I did," Reiss sighed.

  * * *

  She wasn't certain if it was the dribbles of water or the soft cry that shattered her sleep. Reiss stumbled to her feet off the small bed, wrapping a robe around her arms. She was to the door before she realized the baby's cry had already stopped. It took a few more fuzzy blinks until it dawned on her that the cries didn't come from the cradle beside her bed.

  Tiptoeing out into the nursery proper, she spotted Myra propped up in a low metal bucket. Water streaked down her head, splattering that fine blonde hair tight to her scalp. Alistair was careful to tip her back to prevent any from getting into those big green eyes. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" he whispered to his daughter.

  She bounced a bit, either agreeing or disagreeing with her father; it was often hard to tell. They wound up on the floor, Alistair's legs wrapped around the bucket while he used one arm to keep Myra in position as the other kept dribbling small bits of water onto her from a glass. As it glittered against the firelight, Reiss realized the man was using a crystal goblet to bathe his infant daughter. Of course he was.

  Unaware of the luxury being spent upon her, Myra began to cry. "Shh," he tried to softly rock her back and forth but she wasn't having any of that, "you're going to wake your Mom."

  "Too late," Reiss spoke up, sliding out of the shadows.

  Alistair glanced over his shoulder and a sheepish apology clung to his smile, "Sorry about that. Seems this one's anti-water."

  "I could have told you that," Reiss chuckled, her fingers curling around the back of Alistair's neck. She could pluck up their daughter and dry and clothe her, but he clearly wanted to. Sometimes she thought he needed to.

  The proud papa washed off the last bit of soap clinging to baby elbows then picked up a towel to swaddle Myra up tight. She gurgled at being free of the water, her tears stopping as soon as they began. "Oh, you are going to be fun when you're a toddler. Mom's handling all your baths then," Alistair murmured to the girl.

  Reiss sighed, shaking her head while Alistair roughed up the baby's wet hair until it once again stood up straight. His little Wheaty. "Last I remember you two were going for a little look around the castle," she said. The drying paused and Alistair picked up a far happier baby to place upon the changing area while he hunted for a nappy.

  "We did, isn't that right Wheaters?" he cooed to Myra. After securing her diaper, he waved her tiny arms up and down as if she was cheering.

  "What part of walking around indoors suddenly requires a bath late at night?" Reiss stepped closer to them both, trying to avoid the obvious water spills across the floor. She glanced down at her baby but there didn't seem to be any major stains upon her pink skin. Whatever happened at least Alistair was skilled enough to get it off.

  "There were a few, uh, complications." He waved his hand around, then tried to wiggle open a drawer, "Where are the cute pajamas?"

  "Second drawer to the left," Reiss said. "What sort of complications?"

  "You know of the, um, Daddy gets hungry, snatches up something one handed while the baby's in the other, goes to rock her and then has it dribble onto her face variety," he winced at the end, then shot a concerned look over at Reiss.

  She wafted back and forth on her feet, a finger to her lips before she spoke, "Gravy or jam?"

  Alistair's impish smile returned bright as ever, "Gravy, good guess."

  "It's what I do," she said drawing her arms across his shoulders and laying her head against that warm back. They rarely saw each other much, and when they did it was while tending to a squealing or screaming infant. Maker she missed curling into those arms.

  "Ah, here they are!" Alistair exclaimed as if he'd just routed out Andraste's Sacred Ashes. Bypassing piles of perfectly good pajamas he removed a small pair of dark grey ones in a fluffy fleece. They weren't particularly special nor fancy, one solid color save the grey warden emblem embroidered to the chest and back. "Spuddy loved these as an infant, I bet you will too," he whispered to Myra while bundling her up.

  Reiss suspected she'd like them because they were warm and being unable to talk she couldn't exactly voice her opinion much. But he grinned wider as his daughter slipped into the old life he nearly had. The one that would have kept him from having a wife and children. Myra's legs waved, her tiny feet popping out of the pants that were a bit too short. Her baby came out long and lean, though everyone kept assuring her the chubby baby rolls would appear in time. Reiss pursed her lips to that, elven babies never really gaining as many rolls, but this wasn't an elven baby. She was human, as human as her father.

  "Who's a happy little Wheaty? I bet it's you," Alistair booped her nose, Myra rolling back and forth at that. He scooped her up into his arms and placed her right to his chest. Maker's sake, he barely had to dip his knees before her little eyes shut tight in sleep.

  "I don't know if I should be jealous that you can manage that or grateful because it knocks her out," Reiss sighed. While he cuddled their daughter, she scooped her hands tighter around his waist. Alistair looked up from a content Myra and then wrapped one arm around Reiss.

  "Be jealous. You're crazy hot when jealous," he chuckled, his hands swirling against the small of her back.

  Reiss rolled her eyes up at him, no doubt a little fire in there, "Jealous? You've never seen me jealous."

  "Uh, that mage," he laughed causing her to scowl. "Don't think I didn't notice your eyes got a little greener when you looked at her. It's a good thing you don't have any magic powers or she'd have combusted on the spot."

  "Oh yeah," Reiss blinked, trying to shake off the foolish notion she cared about that mage from when they
first met. Linaya was off in the College doing Maker knew what, while Alistair held their child in his arms. A cruel smile twisted up her lips and she turned on him, "What about Liam?"

  "So not fair," Alistair gritted his teeth. He was never quite as good at taking what he dished out.

  "I tell you, repeatedly, that he's a client. But do you believe me? No. You're so dead certain he's trying to court me, what do you do?"

  Alistair's eyes darted around the room, trying to find anyway out of this problem of his own making, "I'm not at liberty to talk about that."

  "You send your newest Spymaster after him, only to find..."

  "Fine, yes, I have the absolute worst sense of when a man isn't into women. Congratulations. You've sussed me out," the fake anger faded and he melted into his usual sugar sweet smile. Placing a kiss to her forehead Alistair murmured, "And I will never be jealous of you ever again."

  "You can be jealous, just don't do anything stupid."

  "Now you're asking for the moon, love," he snickered, Reiss laughing with him. A comfortable silence fell between the young family, Alistair clinging tight to their daughter while Reiss drew her fingers through the damp hair. To think when she first set foot in this place, Reiss thought they were going to have her killed for dishonoring Arl Teagan. She never imagined she'd be offered a job, fall madly in love with the King, and eventually create this breathtaking baby with him.

  Alistair's head knocked into hers, a slight sting radiating from the clumsy move, but then he breathed warmly against her cheek to whisper, "I adore you."

  He spoke with everything in his heart, no holding back with a cautionary tongue for fear of looking the fool. As if acting foolish ever stopped Alistair. Reiss tipped her head up to stare deep into those eyes overflowing in happiness. "You're wonderful," she murmured before pressing her lips to his for a tender kiss. Soft and succulent, Reiss could taste the lingering hints of the gravy that'd dotted Myra's head upon him. Somehow that foolish little moment drove her to love him even more. He cared so damn much it almost hurt.

  As she broke away, Myra stirred. "Oh dear," Reiss reached over instantly, "I don't think she's happy about being stuck between us." Alistair gave in to the mother's hands snuggling their baby in her arms, his palms swooping down to caress her hips while he watched Myra slip back to sleep. After Reiss was certain she was down, she looked up into his eyes. "Why don't we sit together?"

  He smiled wide, and guiding Reiss, he plopped onto the rug beside the fire. With his assistance she curled up in his lap while Myra snoozed away in her arms. Alistair perched his chin upon Reiss' shoulder, peering down at their creation while his hands swooped up her stomach to pin her tight. By the shifting pops of orange and yellow light, they watched their baby's little eyelids flutter in dreams. She should probably be sleeping in anticipation of the oncoming feeding but Reiss couldn't stop staring at Myra nor feeling secure in Alistair's warm arms.

  "Thank you," he breathed beside her cheek.

  "Are you going to be thanking me for giving birth to her until Myra's eighteen?" Reiss snickered.

  "There's a good possibility it'll be until she's thirty, but I meant more..." he buried his lips into her collar bone, something weighing upon his heart. "With Spud and Cailan, people didn't like the idea of me being too involved. I could hold them sometimes, read them books, play, but when they were this tiny I think they all feared I'd accidentally drop the baby then kick it under the dresser."

  Reiss laughed at the foolish image. While dropping was possible, babies could bounce. And she knew Alistair's reflexes were good enough he'd probably catch her on the rebound.

  "I never got to bathe them before, Marn being of the opinion that it was beneath her employers I guess." Alistair sighed deeper in contentment, "This is perfect."

  "Even if she squealed about getting wet?"

  "Even better, because, I don't know. I really don't get it. Maybe it's stupid to be this happy, to be this excited to clean gravy off my baby daughter, but..."

  Reiss glanced over her shoulder, one eye watching Alistair struggle through his mess of emotions. She couldn't blame him, she'd been fighting through the never ending cascade since Myra came into existence. Now that she was here in her arms they made a bit more sense if not still just as unhelpful as before.

  "Alistair," she hefted up their sleeping girl until he could press a kiss to Myra's cheek. "She's your daughter. Meaning everything that comes with that is as much a part of your life as mine."

  "Really?" he gasped as if surprised she'd want his help.

  "I wouldn't get too excited. She's a little warm slug right now, but the second that kid's crawling..."

  Alistair laughed in glee at the thought, "I shall have to cover every staircase with boxes and stuff cotton in the various bear rug's mouths."

  "You've thought of everything," Reiss sighed, the warmth of his body beginning to overtake her as well. Alistair scooted closer, his chest supporting her as he always would. His hands drifted under Myra, keeping her safe as well. How did everything in her life wind up so perfect?

  "Reiss?" he whispered in her ear. She shook off the cotton swaddling her brain to focus on him. "Are you happy here?"

  Leaning back to smile at her husband, she whispered, "Happier than I ever thought possible."

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

  Guarded Heart

  15 weeks old...

  Blowing against the wood, sawdust scattered off his work to coat the bench. Cullen spotted a knot and reached back for a tool only to have his elbow slip against a bit of scrap wood. It clattered to the ground, bouncing upon the stones in a hollow almost hypnotic rhythm. He'd have ignored it, if not for the gurgling cry of fascination from behind.

  Unable to stop the smile, he placed the board down and turned to his son laying stomach first upon a blanket. His bright eyes beamed at where the wood fell, fingers struggling to reach out towards it while his legs kicked as if he were attempting to swim through air. "Did you see this?" Cullen asked, dipping down to scoop up the three inches of excess 2X4 he no longer needed.

  Gavin's eyes opened wide, the legs kicking faster as a string of babble erupted from his chubby cheeks. "What do you think of it?" Cullen sat upon the floor and extended the piece closer to his son. Tiny fingers reached out, trying to swipe at it. They weren't quite able to grab at things, but when his hand made contact a great laugh erupted from the boy.

  "It's real cherry wood. Lana wasn't happy about losing the tree but it was about to fall down and rather than risk it destroying others in a storm, I thought it might make a lovely crib for you." He kept the trophy out of the baby's inquisitive fingers and reached over to tousle his son's hair. It was already curling at the ends, knotting back in on itself as even more of the mahogany locks appeared. There was going to be a lot of it, the boy inheriting his mother's thick hair with a slight dash of his father's coloring on the ends in the right light.

  A different grump erupted from the end of the room and Cullen turned to catch Honor watching over the two of them with a careful eye. "What about you, girl? Do you want this scrap?" he chuckled.

  Honor woofed and with a great dog sigh rose to her weary bones. She placed her teeth upon the edge of the scrap, plucking it from Cullen's fingers. He expected her to take it back to her corner of the shop away from the baby and chew on it, but the dog placed two paws upon Gavin's blanket, tipped downward, and dropped her soggy prize beside the baby. Cooing, Gavin tried to wiggle to find the doggy, but he hadn't quite gotten spinning down yet. With one hand rubbing Honor's head, Cullen twisted his boy to face the doggy.

  Baby hands swatted out of the air, a few landing near Honor's nose, but that fearsome mabari warrior who'd stand against any and all attacks, slid closer to the boy. She lapped her tongue against the soft skin, taking each tiny blow as a game. Gavin scooted harder on his stomach, laughing like mad at the puppy that kept slobbering on his head.

  "And here I was worried you two wouldn't get along," Cullen mused. The boy g
urgled more, the increasing babble lapping as if he was trying to tell Honor all of his secrets. For her part, the dog sat and listened with rapt attention.

  The small shop's door opened to Lana standing huddled in her cloak. She stepped onto the higher wooden floor and shook off the hood. "Here my boys are," she smiled at both. "And Honor too, glad to see you're all free of this cold."

  Cullen moved to stagger up to his feet, but she skirted her hand over his shoulders and bent down to kiss him. Pressing his palm to her cheek, he started at how cold she felt, "Maker's breath, how long were you out in this?"

  "Not very," she sighed, "A few quick rounds, nothing strenuous. Just wanted to say hi. Seems all our residents were rather unhappy I didn't have the cute baby with me as I went." Lana broke from explaining away her day in order to struggle lower to her knees. Cullen gripped her hand, taking her weight as she buffed up their son's hair and caressed his back. "And how are you doing with your father? Enjoying tummy time?"

  Gavin lifted his head even higher than before, his amber eyes shining at the touch and sound of his mother. Legs kicking against the air, he tried to scoot closer to her and she laughed. "I take it that's a yes. When did you get so big?"

  "The very moment you turned around," Cullen mused, his hands plying through Lana's curls. "I fear I missed it as well."

  "Well, we have a few years until he's running around in the back woods chasing goblins," she smiled.

  "I certainly hope so. I need a couple more weeks at least until the crib's finished. If he grows out of his cradle before then..." Cullen grimaced, turning back to the project he foolishly thought he'd have plenty of time to accomplish once their baby was born. There'd been a waning lack of good wood and he got it in his head that personalizing it to his child would somehow be better. Not to mention the always weighing fear that there was a great chance they may not require it. Cullen had been prepared to tear apart the cradle for firewood if something terrible happened to their baby, but to do it to both cradle and crib would...