"Meaning he lets you stay home more without inventing crises to send you rushing out there."
Teagan was kind enough to chortle at her summation before tipping his head, "As you say."
"I was just curious if the little girl looks as much like him as people are saying. All of Alistair's letters paint a very different picture, of course. It's a wonder baby Myra hasn't already mastered the art of swordplay, weaving, and lute playing from how he extolls on and on about her. Ah well," Lana tousled up her baby's curls, Gavin reaching up to his hair to give a soft tug in response, "I'm certain we'll see her in good time."
A knock broke against the bedroom door, catching both their attentions. Rather than call out, Teagan opened it himself to reveal a well tailored servant. Tipping down her head, an elven woman murmured, "My Lord, you are requested in the meeting room with the others."
"I'm afraid I am required elsewhere," Teagan sighed at Lana. "Do you need anything before I go?"
"No, I believe we shall do just fine in here," she smiled at Teagan before turning to her son. "Isn't that right, Gavin?"
He opened his mouth and she expected a string of babble to escape but at watching the Arl's face, those thick lips slapped shut tight. So much like his father it struck Lana in surprise sometimes. Smiling, Teagan took his leave, shuffling off to find the damn near elite of thedas all tucked away in Redcliffe castle. Cullen at first refused to attend the talks, insisting that he was needed at home to help with his new baby and not wasting a month in Orlais. While she figured her and Gavin could survive a month without him, Lana was grateful for his choice to remain.
When the second, harried looking raven arrived, the message growing more cryptic and urgent, they realized something big was brewing. Lana arrived at the idea of holding it at Teagan's. He was more or less in on the whole issue of her being somewhat in hiding and having a new baby. It was a perfect chance for her to slip back unnoticed into a bedroom alone while Cullen attended to meetings. He could return to her and Gavin at their leisure rather than fretting leagues away. Being so near home, Lana and Cullen only had a two day ride out to the castle and back. It was rather nice taking their time to Redcliffe, Lana showing Gavin the passing countryside which he watched with his same concerned and dour expression.
Without anyone there to watch him, Gavin began to flap his arms around and twist in Lana's hands. "What do you want?" she asked, a string of babble responding. "Is it down? Very well."
First she sat upon the bed, her legs far too weary for her to not crash straight to floor if she didn't take a slow detour. Sensing his freedom, Gavin began to flail both arms and legs like a turtle lifted off the grass. "Will you give me a moment?" she laughed at her boy before leaning over and letting him touch upon the floor. Barely pausing at the new surroundings, her baby took off, arms and legs flailing as he crawled towards the bookcase. He'd been rising up and down on his arms and legs during tummy time for a few days, seeming to get the hang of them, or doing pushups. She wasn't certain if he'd ever catch on to crawling when suddenly off he went without a thought. Now it was a sight to watch everyone scattering to stop the baby from getting himself into and under things.
Lana eased off the bed onto the floor, her motherly gaze hunting around the room to find all the objects Gavin could hurt or be hurt by. Luckily, there seemed to be almost nothing. The heavy furniture was bolted in place and anything smaller tucked away up high. Teagan, of course. He'd gone through this stage not too long ago himself. While Gavin flopped onto his stomach and found the beveled edge of the bookcase feet fascinating, Lana did her best to not fret about whatever the Inquisitor wanted.
Not just him, they brought in the Seeker as well. Cassandra was ushered in so quickly, Lana only caught a flash of her pink armor while peering out the window. There'd been talk of Leliana arriving, but then some great religious crisis called her to southern Orlais. Too bad, she had yet to find time to visit Gavin even as she kept burying him in elaborate gifts. A Divine's work was never done.
A few others slipped by, faces Lana didn't recognize from her time in the Inquisition, all of which necessitated the hiding Hero of Ferelden to remain sequestered in her room. It wasn't so bad, she had the baby to keep her company and plenty busy. He'd been growing more fascinated by everything around him, the boy often following his father and mother around on rounds. Most of their charges loved Gavin and he in turn found them interesting, but there were a few that he didn't warm to no matter how hard they tried. He was very cautious.
A gurgle caught Lana's attention and she watched her son roll back onto his butt into a sitting position. Those stubby little fingers drifted higher up the case, struggling to reach for anything to tug out. Luckily, it was all drawers at that level. Gavin swatted at the case as if it questioned his parentage, when his hands suddenly lifted up one of the handles. The metal tipped up, then bounced down in a flash of glint and sound.
Oh, that was enough. The baby knocked it up again, laughing as it struck. His eyes grew wider each time he lifted the handle, then crinkled into great giggles when it fell. Gavin batted at it a good dozen more times before he glanced over at his mother as if to say 'Did you see this? How amazing is this?' She scooted towards her son and, while resting upon her hip, softly soothed his back.
They put him in one of the fancier tunics and leggings gifted to them by... Maker, she couldn't remember. Forest green with tan accents for the collar and cuff -- in that shirt he looked like a dashing ranger leaping from tree to tree while hunting for stag. The leggings were tan as well, and lasted about all of ten minutes for greetings before Gavin decided he did not want them on. With summer on the way, and the castle well heated for guests, Lana let him run around in just his nappy. Pants were overrated, she laughed. His parents were both rather known for wearing skirts anyway.
Gavin flopped forward, his arms sliding under the bookcase. At first he seemed to be happy to just dust under the furniture for Teagan, when he suddenly sat up. "What did you find, my little squirrel?" she asked, catching something dark slip into her boy's hand. He gurgled and waved it at her to show off what almost looked like the torso of a golem.
It was good sized so there probably was no risk of him choking on it. Shrugging her shoulders, Lana let Gavin pat at the golem's stomach before promptly shoving it in his mouth. That was where everything wound up in the end.
"Is that the same way our dear Commander Cullen approaches the unknown?" a voice oozed from the doorway. Lana whipped her head around, reaching over instinctively to protect Gavin when she recognized the exposed walnut colored shoulder and perfectly curled mustache.
"Hello, Dorian," Lana greeted him. Technically, he wasn't one of the few let in on her secret. The fact he was on again, off again with the Inquisitor who did know it meant he probably learned the truth of her return an hour after Gaerwn did. She wasn't certain what the state of their relationship currently was, but that he left Tevinter for this summit either hinted that more threats were rising than she already knew or he'd returned to the Inquisitor's bed. For thedas' sake she hoped it was the latter.
The Magister tipped his head, the braid in his hair knocking towards his shoulder, "When they told me Cullen actually bred, I thought it'd be a litter of those hounds you all have running around here."
"Nope, all human," she put on a smile, uncertain just what she'd be up against. Charming like Zev Lana could deal with, infuriatingly smarmy she could also deal with but that required a whole different set of skills. Gavin paused in gumming up his golem and his once ecstatic eyes dimmed to shadows to stare up at Dorian.
"And I can see by that glare that the father has already told the son all about me," he chuckled.
"He gets that way with strangers," Lana tried to apologize for her boy. So many people wanted him to instantly fall in love with them and play, but that wasn't Gavin's style. He watched the world cautiously from a quick head turn, before burying his face back in his mother's or father's chest.
"What's your li
ttle ankle biter's name?" Dorian was trying to act cool, but she could sense his eyes peering down at the baby even while he focused on his nails. He wanted to hold Gavin. Few who saw the baby didn't.
"Gavin," she said, which caused the baby to stare at her for summoning him.
"Not the worst thing. I assume it was your doing. The Commander strikes me as a man who'd name his children after swords. Broad. Long. Short. Bastard. That'd probably get confusing if they were all legitimate."
Sighing at his continued insouciance, Lana scooted a bit back from her son and waved him over. "Come say hi. Gavin likes it best when people meet him on his level."
"Eye to eye, trying to size up the enemy. Have you got him marching drills yet?" Dorian asked even as he risked his fine clothing by taking a knee towards the boy.
Lana rolled her eyes, "He just learned how to crawl a few days ago. Drilling's still a couple years off."
The Magister scoffed a moment at the very idea, then he extended his hand to Gavin, "Pleased to meet you."
Amber eyes watched the hand, then darted up to Dorian, back to the hand, got distracted by a shiny buckle, before the boy slowly leaned forward to deposit his drool soaked golem torso into the proffered hand. The man grimaced at the thing, and Gavin laughed uproariously at his move, his free hands slapping together to applaud himself.
"Maker's sake, what is this?" he groaned, extending the spit-soaked thing between forefinger and thumb.
Lana laughed, "I believe that's Gavin's way of sharing with you. He's saying hello."
"Those of us in civilized society do it with a handshake and a greeting. I suppose you southerners trade in slobbery rocks."
For whatever reason, Dorian's continued annoyance made her son clap harder. He was laughing so hard he began to snort a bit in pure joy. Lana reached over to make certain her boy didn't fall back and bonk his head on the floor.
"Here," Dorian extended the toy to him, "you can take this back."
Gavin was quick to scoop up his chew toy, returning it to his mouth. He was no longer eyeing up the stranger, but began to babble in nonsense at Lana as if telling her all the funny things Dorian did. Seemed the Tevinter mage won him over fast, Gavin's free hand bonking into Dorian's as if slapping it.
"Is it normal for them to speak as if they're possessed?" Dorian asked, squinting at the typical baby-talk.
"I'm guessing you don't have a lot of baby experience."
"We try to limit ourselves to only one or two infant sacrifices in the Imperium a year. It can get rather costly," he joked, before smoothing down the mustache.
Lana snaked her arms around her son and picked him up off the floor. In the move, the golem doll tumbled out of his hands, but Gavin didn't have time to react to the loss as she plopped him into Dorian's unexpected grasp. "What am I...?" he all but shrieked, clearly feeling out his element as he raced to knot his hands around the baby. Gavin found it all fascinating, his fingers greedily reaching for the mustache.
"Ah," she warned, "might want to tip your head back. He really loves tugging on beards."
"Is that why you never allowed our dear Commander to grow one?" Dorian laughed, doing as she suggested. Gavin's fingers landed upon one of the dozen or so buckles and that was enough to catch his eye. Rolling the clasp back and forth, he focused with everything inside of him on the shiny bauble.
"That and he looks like a total pillock with one," she laughed. "All that blonde hair does not lead to a lush beard. Looks more like his face is covered in spun sugar."
Dorian chuckled as well. With the baby entertained, he eased out of the horrors of holding one. Carefully, he slid one hand to cushion under Gavin's armpits while the other kept tight against his waist. "A look the famous Commander of the Inquisition cannot pull off. It will shatter hearts from here to Seheron."
"Seheron? Is that why you're here at this meeting we're all pretending isn't happening?" Lana pressed him.
"No, though Maker knows the ox men are quite enjoying knocking upon our door and leaving a severed head upon the stoop every chance they can. I am here for moral support, more or less," he smiled, drawn in by the baby still rolling his pudgy fingers over the buckle.
"More or less?"
Those impish eyes rolled up to her and he winked, "It depends on who wants to give the more, or less."
Zevran, definitely. That twinkle with a come-what-may attitude to distract from whatever real pains were eating him up inside reminded her far too much of that blonde elf. Maker, what would happen if Master Dorian and Zev were alone together? Throw in Isabela and no port, nor bed, nor spouse in thedas was safe.
"You have no idea what's going on?" Lana pressed.
"I wouldn't say that, but..." Dorian paused in trying to eye up Gavin's drooling as if terrified it might land upon his finery. He sighed, an obvious shudder rolling up his spine and broken sky eyes like the edge of a storm turned to Lana. "I'm not entirely at liberty to discuss what I know. But, if you put the screws to your templar, I imagine he'll tell you all you want."
"Who needs screws when you have these," Lana muttered, gesturing to her chest.
The mage laughed softly at that, when Gavin's hand broke from the buckle to bonk on his nose. "I say," the mage thundered, "that is quite impolite. We don't slap at someone's nose until we've been well introduced, young man."
Gavin giggled hard at the words, then patted his nose again. He had a fascination with them, often trying to stuff things up Cullen's while he held his son. It got to the point Cullen barely bothered stopping him and would merely blow the object out when he had the opportunity.
"Very well," Dorian sighed. He eased Gavin's little feet to land upon his thighs while staring deep into the amber eyes. Unaware he was on trial, the baby began to gnaw upon his hand, more drool dribbling down the chin. "I know your name, it is Gavin. A pleasure. Assuming you do not urinate all over my pants I'm certain we will get along swimmingly. It is only fair that you know my name. Dorian."
"Can you say Dorian?" he asked with such force Gavin turned from the fascinating nothing he was staring at to focus back upon the mage. "Dorian. Come now, even your father learned it in a few years time."
"He's not really talking yet, just a few squeals, and yips, and other noises," Lana tried to explain, but the two of them seemed to have found a game in this. At least Gavin was wide eyed in thought, so focused upon this strange new friend he even stopped gnawing. Lana darted closer to try and mop the spittle up off his folds with her sleeve.
"Dor-I-An. See. Quite simple," he kept on. "You may have to remove your fist from your mouth first." Dorian slipped up and gently tugged the rolly-polly fingers free. At first Lana braced herself for cries at having his chew toy removed, but Gavin was in full contemplation mode. Andraste preserve her, but he was the spitting image of Cullen when the man was deep in thought.
"Now you try," Dorian commanded as if it was that simple.
"Da," Gavin shouted.
"No, Dor."
"Da," the baby chuckled and he flapped both arms like he was trying to take flight. Did he just...? Lana staggered back to watch Gavin focus on her, then turn to Dorian. Shrieking in glee he began to chant, "Da da da da..."
"Fasta Vaas, how do I turn this off?" Dorian cried, turning over to find Lana rising quickly to her feet. "What are you doing?"
"I'll be back in a moment. Keep watch over Gavin," she stuttered, yanking back the door and dashing into the hall.
"Watch?" Dorian's pitiful cries echoed in her wake. "I have no idea what one does with a baby! What if it defecates?!"
Lana leaned tight to the wall, trying to shuffle down the hall with its help as she foolishly left her cane back in the room. Her brain was running on pure shock which pumped enough energy into her depleted body to dip down the corridor and right towards the main room. A pair of soldiers stood guard, both standing taller at her presence.
"Ma'am," one tipped his head.
"Is Cullen inside?" she skidded to a halt and tried to peer thro
ugh the door they no doubt bolted.
"Yes, ma'am, but no one's allowed inside until the talks are..."
"I'm his wife," Lana interrupted.
That caused both to blink in surprise. A lot of thedas buzzed about the Commander of the Inquisition settling down but few ever got right what the infamous ball and chain looked like. The prevailing theory was that she was a redhead, nearly six feet tall, with purple eyes and loads of freckles. And certainly not a mage.
Afraid that she was going to have to flatten both men with her magic, Lana tried sweetness first, "Please?"
"Oh, let her in Carl. What's the worst that'll happen?"
"Fine, but it's your head if something goes tits up," the guard named Carl groaned. He rapped twice on the door. She didn't realize there were voices speaking behind it until they stopped, the silence heavy. It took a few more beats, the guards watching Lana closely in the event the Commander wouldn't claim her, before the door opened.
Teagan stood in the way and glanced down at her in surprise, "Lana?"
"I need to speak to Cullen," she said, eyeing up a long table with a good dozen people sitting at it. The Inquisitor took up the head, maps laid out in front of him. To his left was Scout Harding, tapping her foot on the chair in thought. On the right, Seeker Cassandra, who glanced over at the intruder and her stern face softened. Beside her was the man in question.
He took a moment to finish jotting something down before looking over at Lana. "What is it?" he spoke simply before a look of panic crossed his face, "Is it the baby? Is something wrong?" Cullen stumbled to his feet, all but knocking his chair over, when Lana sighed. She should have known he'd leap straight to worry.
"No, you come with me. Now," she reached out to try and cup his hands.
Cullen grabbed onto hers, then moved to wrap a hand around her waist to steady her weight. Realizing he'd just about run out of a meeting, he glanced towards the Inquisitor. Gaerwn shrugged and waved his hand out, "Go on, Commander."
Together they limped back towards their room, Cullen peppering her with questions about what was going on, and where their baby was. She tried to insist he wait and that Gavin was fine, it was something he had to see. That earned her a groan, Cullen never happy about surprises, but he trusted her enough to follow.
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