Love's Blush

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  Placing a kiss to Myra's forehead, Reiss moved to tuck her into the crib before she paused. "Here," she passed the baby to him, "you can put her to bed." Alistair's wilting face lifted a bit at that and he bumped his nose into Myra's before whispering a soft lullaby. With all the grace that people assumed their King didn't have, he lay the baby onto her back and sang a bit more above her. He didn't have the kind of voice one wanted to encourage, but Myra adored it, her little hands waving in joy.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Reiss caught Sylaise leaping up onto the counter. Her tail swished a bit while those yellow eyes stared down at the newest addition to their family. There wasn't any malice in the old alley cat's face, but the same 'I'm here to protect you' gaze she had with Muse until the dog grew to the size of a pony. Scritching along Sylaise's head, Reiss tried to calm the pounding in her heart but it wouldn't go. This should be some beautiful picture of a family all gathered together putting the baby to sleep. But below her, the wreckage of her life's work lay in tatters. Not even an hour earlier, her friends and neighbors came to stone and butcher her in front of her agency. Nothing was right about any of this.

  As he finished his song, Alistair turned away from Myra with the promise that she'd go to sleep. His eyes softened and for a glimmer the old puppy dog ones returned. "We need to talk about this," he groaned, tugging his hair upward in agony. "I know right now isn't the best time, but I need to..."

  Alistair froze, his hands thudding to the sides as he stared empty eyed at the ground, "Reiss, when you didn't return, for a moment I feared that you'd left me again. That you'd both left me."

  "Oh Alistair, I'm so... I never meant to do that," she unfolded her crossed arms and in spite of every fear hounding her steps, she wrapped herself around the shem King.

  "I don't want to lose you," he murmured, returning the hug.

  "I know you love Myra," Reiss assured him, as if love could somehow conquer all.

  He shook his head, burying his face into her shoulder, "Not just my Wheaty. Reiss, I love you. And facing a world without you is...I don't want to do it again."

  A sob jammed in her throat, and Reiss began to moan at the thought. She didn't want to lose him either. "I'm sorry," Reiss cried, tears raining down his tunic as she clung tighter to him. "I'm sorry, I didn't, I don't..." From the moment she first saw her agency bruised and beaten Reiss closed off her heart. She couldn't afford to feel anything because if she did it'd all be lost. She'd fall to her knees and never get up again. Cold and calculating, careful to never let the betrayal and anger sink in, she needed a calm head to steer her people and get this place back.

  Everything ripped apart inside of her. The survivor, the refugee, the soldier, the woman who'd scaled a mountain of a man in order to stab him to death and rescue their King, shattered. Reiss began to sink to her knees, but Alistair was quick to catch her. His lips murmured something beside her cheek as he guided her towards the bed. Together they flopped down upon it, Alistair holding her tight to his chest while he rubbed her back in soothing circles.

  "Reiss," he whispered, "are you okay?"

  "I don't know," she admitted. "I have to be, but I don't know. I hate everything right now. Everyone that...how do I go back out there? I knew some of them. And tomorrow it's a new day, with so much work to fix this. I don't know if I can. Maker's breath, by the light of the sun I have to pretend that what they nearly did...that they weren't going to gut me like a fish."

  Alistair paused, his body snapping rigid below hers and she groaned. No, not another argument. Please. Not now. She couldn't take it. "What will you do?" he asked after a breath. The hands resumed their caresses, one lightly cupping her bun.

  "Go on, I guess. Prove that I'm...that I deserve to be here."

  He scrunched up tight, his hands circling around her back as he buried his lips to her shoulder. It felt as if his entire body was wrapping around hers to keep her tight.

  "I'm afraid," Alistair whispered to her, his voice barely breaking into sound.

  She wanted to return the hug but Reiss was pulverized by the pounding in her brain. How could she be so delusional into thinking they'd accepted her kind here? That they'd turn a blind eye or even willingly embrace her? She was worthless, and would have to scrape, and beg, and devote every minute of her life to climbing out of this hole.

  Laying her head down upon him, she whispered back, "So am I."

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  Survive

  19 weeks old...

  "This little piggy went to market," Alistair wiggled back and forth Myra's big toe that he couldn't keep inside her socks no matter how hard he tried. She sat upon her mother's new desk, her hands buried in his hair while he'd first attempted to get her to put back on the socks she kicked off. Then, he abandoned that foolish quest and took to playing instead.

  "And this little piggy...uh," those big green eyes stared in wonder at him, waiting with bated breath for what her second toe did next, "also went to market. Seems there was a good sale that day because the third little piggy had to...buy himself a new plow. The only one was broken on a rock that the fourth little piggy left in farmer piggy's field. Rather cruel of four but it was known for being an inconsiderate piggy."

  His babble faded at the baby clapping her hands and giggling like it was the most well crafted joke in all of thedas. Watching her laugh was like climbing into a fancy orlesian spa for a week, it cleansed his soul in ways he didn't ever think possible. Alistair moved on to the fifth piggy, who was about to try and scam number three, when Lunet dropped a pile of folders onto the desk.

  "Ah kid, don't fall for his nonsense," she chuckled, then buffed up Wheater's hair. His little girl stuffed her fingers in her mouth to gum on them, but at the touch turned to smile wide and giggle at Mummy's friend. "It'll rot yer brain and then you'll be left with nothing but goo dripping out of your nose."

  "Hey," Alistair grumped, then he shrugged, "actually, that's probably a fair point."

  Lunet eyed him up and sighed, "Course it is, I gave it." She was wearing quite a bit of armor, a lot of it looked like it was pilfered from old sets rusting in the backs of shops. In fact, nearly all of the crew were. Alistair could almost swear he spotted upon one of the dwarves a single gauntlet from the Legion of the Dead that Lanny yanked from the deep roads. One of many things they sold off to pay for their little army what felt five decades ago.

  Having said her peace, Lunet flopped down onto the stack of crates behind the desk she had to share with the quieter dwarf twin. Whenever she'd reach over into his workspace, or prop her feet up, he'd scrunch back and apologize for getting in the way. If it'd been the loud one, there'd probably be new blood all over the walls by now.

  Jorel glanced over at the father trying to wipe the drool off his daughter's chin. For a brief beat their eyes met, but the dwarf quickly looked away. No doubt out of a fear that he'd fall madly in love with the loopy man and then there'd have to be a duel of honor for his hand with the boss. Or, he was terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing with the King around. The whole office was on pins and needles courtesy of the man that was kinda in charge of the country sitting in the back playing with his baby.

  They'd never really connected much before, Reiss keeping her two lives separate. The only one who'd even talk to him was... "Hey, Lunet," Alistair called to her. The elf dramatically dropped her quill and sighed with her head tipped to the sky before turning to him.

  "What?"

  "How come you're always giving me shit?"

  She rolled her tongue back and forth before spitting out, "Wouldn't get none if you didn't start it."

  "Fair enough, but I mean, seems like everyone here's on their tenderest hooks to avoid the wrath of the crown. But you...you never blanch for even a minute."

  More than a few heads around the office suddenly stopped working and swung over to listen while trying to make it look like they weren't. Lunet ran her tongue over her teeth then sighed, "Ain't got no reason to stop giving you
what you deserve."

  "You're not scared."

  "Of you?" She laughed hard enough his ego took a good ding or two. "Look, no offense, but I've known bigger trash talkers with nothing behind their name but a 'Wanted: dead or alive.' You're not what I'd call scary."

  Wheaty reached for a paperweight on Reiss' desk and Alistair held it up to the light for her entertainment. "Really? What about the whole leader of the country, slayer of darkspawn, could order you executed and do it himself bit? Not that I would, just..." He turned from Lunet to watch Myra lean forward, her chubby fingers reaching for the paperweight. "Whoa there, kiddo," he lashed his palm out, keeping his baby in the upright position.

  "Yeah, real terrifying there," Lunet snickered. "Sure, fine, captain hoity toity, it's all a tightrope walk. Everyone here knows it, same as you do. Say the wrong word, be in the wrong place, step on the wrong toe and it's 'off with yer head.'"

  "You make it sound like we're Orlesians," Alistair sighed.

  "You ain't never been an elf," she pointed out, jabbing a finger at him. A rumbling in his gut returned the clouds that drifted into his once rosy relationship. It was the only argument Reiss had that he couldn't fight back against. Even knowing about his mother changed nothing, even if he sometimes wanted to know. Wondered what that other half of him was like. To be an elf. And now his daughter was torn even more between the two worlds. Why not be a fish that can fly, or a bird that breathes water? It would probably be easier than a half-elf, half-human child.

  "Point being," Lunet continued, interrupting his internal grumbling, "I don't have no family you can threaten, and I ain't scared to stand up for what's right."

  "Meaning..."

  "You hurt her and you'll be answering to me. And a few others I bet I can round up."

  Alistair laughed at that, "Three years and your threat hasn't changed a lick."

  "Nope," she smiled, "though I suppose adding in the squirt to it should be done. Not that I think..." A shadow crested over Lunet's face and she turned to glare down at her work. The carefree bonhomie between King and 'subject that didn't give a shit who he was' shattered.

  That first night was not easy. In the ranking of pains in Alistair's life it'd fall below his Joining but somewhere around that night before they reached Denerim prior to the big battle. When he kept trying to wash the stink of witch off him while Lanny did her best to not ask how it went. He felt unclean, angry, regretful, ashamed, and terrified all at once. Clinging tight to Reiss, the woman he loved, while she cried in regret about the people who tried to murder her, who attacked her life, he felt anger. At those who would threaten her, call her such vulgarities as if they had a clue about the truth. Risk their baby's life to meter out their own warped justice. But also at Reiss, for forgetting about him, about what he could offer to help, about how he'd be struck down if he lost either of them, for choosing the agency before him without a second thought.

  That anger brought forth a shame that he even felt it. She could have died. He nearly lost her that night and he wouldn't have even known it until the morning or later. Denerim would have burned, the King dragging those that turned upon an innocent woman from their homes to be executed without thought. People rarely saw him when he was full of wrath, Alistair's defense mechanism fooling them into thinking he'd moved past it or was too ignorant to feel pain. But anyone who hurt Reiss or their child would pay in blood.

  When the sun rose, bringing even more work for the exhausted woman, his churning mind settled on terror. He couldn't protect her. Try as hard as he might, dream of being the knight in shining armor that rides in at her door, this life was out of his hands. He could order royal guards to stand outside her doors day and night, but Reiss shouted that down in an instant saying it'd make everything worse. And she wouldn't see reason. Not her, oh no. If she decided on something, wild horses the size of giants couldn't pull her from it.

  Maker's sake, why did he had to fall for such stubborn women?

  "Lunet," Alistair whispered, wincing as Myra tugged on his hair but he didn't stop her. The pain felt good, his baby alive to inflict it. "Do you think this'll work?"

  Lunet paused in her work then turned to face him. A thousand thoughts were scrawled in her eyes but she wouldn't open her mouth to voice them. "I dunno," she whispered back. They both stared out at the mess remaining. A week on and the place wasn't looking much better. The garbage was cleared out, but they could only get one extra desk and Reiss was getting the run around about her window, which drew a new twitch to her jaw.

  But what was most damning, in all that time of being open, not a single person had dared to step through the door and ask for their help. No customers meant no coin. No coin meant the place would die without torches or stones having to get involved. And that may crush Reiss as bad as losing their baby would.

  "You know the boss, she gets something in her head and nothing nor nobody can stop her," Lunet laughed.

  "I'm serious," he whipped his head at her. "You know these streets, probably better than Reiss. Though, Maker, don't tell her I said that. Do you think this will work?"

  She stared at him in surprise, that sheen of stupidity he marinated in fading away as he needed to have an answer. Tapping her fingers against the desk still calling them all whores, Lunet sighed, "Honestly? No. I don't. Cause all those shitwicks will get together, tell their friends and other friends that we're not wanted no more. To stay away, blacklist us from everything we need to survive. The coin'll vanish trying to cling to this idea we were so certain would work and then poof. All gone."

  He feared as such even while Reiss devoted every hour she was awake into resuscitating her business. At the end of all the tears and sweat and pain was nothing. It was all his fault. If he hadn't taken that potion, if he thought for a second about what would happen when he was free of the taint, if he had pulled out... Okay, he was really bad at that part. It was doomed and there was no stopping Reiss from flailing to her own failure.

  Little Wheaty, seeming to sense her Daddy's sour turn face planted into his cheek and began to blow bubbles against his skin. That caused him to chuckle even while her saliva dripped down towards his chin. "You're right, squirt. Your Mummy does amazing things. Who knows, she may pull a miracle off."

  "Aye," Lunet nodded to herself, "she may. Rye has a habit of surprising even when there ain't a point in fighting anymore." She stared hard at Alistair, then slid down to look at the baby to solidify her point. Lunet never thought Reiss would come back to this life, she'd already counted on it being over and her losing a friend. That was the danger of discounting Reiss, she did whatever she wanted even if it the path was nothing but brambles. More tenacious than a mabari with a dragon bone.

  The door to the office blew open, revealing the silhouette of a long coat and unmistakable hat. Reiss yanked that tell-tale hat off her head and tossed it onto the rack. "I've got good news!" she cheered to everyone gathered.

  "Thank the Maker for small favors," Lunet grumbled, sliding forward. "What is it?"

  "As you said, Felix is acting squirrlier than usual," Reiss muttered. She didn't walk closer to the gang, but kept an eye wandering back out the door held open an inch by her hand.

  "That's it? That's your good news, our resident fence of all things illegal and/or fell outta the back of a wagon is being weird? Great," Lunet smacked her hands into her desk, looking as if she wanted to throw in the towel completely.

  "No, that's not it. I'm pretty sure he knows where the sword ended up. Jorel, you're on Felix duty," Reiss shot over to the dwarf. He snarled, not keeping his complaints about watching the 'twitchy tall one' very quiet. The rest of the office seemed less enthused about finding the stolen sword, but she made it her priority and even if the Maker himself told her it was pointless Reiss wouldn't give up until it was in her hand. Alistair offered to get her a new one, wasn't as if they didn't have a bunch of old swords cluttering up the royal armory, but it was the principle of the thing.

  She danced back to pe
er through the door, then dashed on her feet to the middle of the room. "My real news is this," twisting around, she held her hands out as Qimat approached the door guiding along a tiny human girl who looked at most sixteen. Alistair was taking a stab in the dark with that age. Boasting giant blue eyes and black hair that framed her face, she could be all of thirteen with kerchiefs stuffed in her dress to pad out the lithe figure or twenty five and blessed to never age.

  "I solved the L'Arange case," Reiss smiled wide while the girl, probably of the L'Arange family stepped timidly into the room. She seemed more spooked by the grinning elf than the giant qunari woman, who kept leaning over to whisper that things were okay in her ear.

  "Maker's sake," Lunet all but leaped over her desk in order to run towards the girl, "we been scrabbling at this thing for months? Where was she?"

  "Guess," Reiss grinned wide, savoring her victory. The joy didn't pass over to Lunet who stared dead eyed at her friend, not wanting to play the game. "Lady Apple, of course."

  "Of all the copper bottom..." Lunet let her curse die, then sneered to herself, "I should have known. She's been out sniffing around the little pretty ones a lot lately. But to go after a L'Arange...lady's gone full daft."

  "I don't think she knew just who she seduced into her web until it was too late," Reiss eyed up the poor girl who looked as if she wanted to bolt.

  The girl's whisper-quiet soprano voice spoke, "Lady Apple was..."

  "Here, here," Lunet, the sharpest woman he'd ever met, wrapped a soothing arm around the girl, "I know, she made all these pretty promises and no doubt told you how lovely you are every night. It's what she does. But it'll be better."

  "I don't want her to be hurt," the girl stuttered, trying hide below her bangs.

  Lunet and Reiss shared a quick look that said how badly they wanted to hurt this Lady Apple. "She won't be, love. Promise. How about we get you back to your parents? You can clean up there and..."