"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 of 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 EIGHTEEN
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?" Gi
llian 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 Alistair 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.
Karelle eyed up the audience, then whispered, "This is not really the proper place for you two to be having a discussion. Any discussion."
"She's right," Reiss deflated even if she looked like she wanted to have a few go's at Alistair right there in the throne room.
Cupping Wheaty closer to his chest, Alistair rose from the chair and announced, "I'm taking a quick break. There are refreshments in the lobby, might be a good time to take a visit to the bushes if you have to. Bye."
"Sire..." Karelle tried to wave him off, but he was already trailing towards the little side chamber. Quick on his heels was Reiss, the woman scowling deeper with every step.
Inside, Alistair found a couple clerks who were trying to toss quills up into the ceiling. "Could you excuse us?" he asked, making no mention of the dozen or so feathers jammed up in the rafters. As the clerks scuttled away, he buried his face against Myra's while Reiss slammed the door and glared.
"What in the blighted void of the Maker's ass cheek do you think you're doing?" He bit down on the sarcastic response because when Reiss reached such a swear level that they weren't even making sense he knew it was bad. "I wake up to discover my baby's gone. I think, oh, maybe one of the girls took her for a little walk, or she was crying and annoyed someone. Then I find out her father carried her into the throne room, sat down in it, and proceeded to parade her about in front of every Bann and Arl in Denerim!"
"Am I missing something? What's the big deal?" Alistair shook his head.
"The big deal? The big deal?! Blessed Andraste, give m
e strength." Reiss prayed to the wall with a stuffed bobcat head on it before whipping back to him, "You keep trying to legitimize her. You can't do that."
"Why not?" he blinked, fully lost beyond measure while his baby slipped down to be rocked in his arms.
"She's..." Reiss rose up on her toes in order to glare into his eyes, "You're not this stupid. Are you playing with me? Is this one of your pretending to be dumb so people go away things, or...?"
Her anger abated a moment and he cupped her cheek. Sighing, Reiss stared down at their baby girl who was warm and happy next to her father. Alistair groaned, "I don't understand why it's a problem. She's my daughter."
"She's not the King's daughter," Reiss whispered. They'd had a rather easy time of it all things considered, Myra getting onto a schedule fast -- her mother's influence, no doubt -- and the castle chipping in when needed. Alistair adored stumbling across Reiss with their baby pressed to her breast while she tipped back and forth in the rocking chair. Or letting her nap in the day bed while he walked their baby back to sleep. It was bliss for him even if there was some serious sleep deprivation at times.
It wasn't until a few nobby noses started poking into their business that things began to fray. Eamon rolled out of retirement long enough to stop in and see the child. That must have set off some long dormant beehive as more people kept appearing outside the nursery just to see. See if the baby was real. See if she really did look so damn much like her father. See if she was an elf or not. See if it wasn't all some trick pulled by an elf trying to get back into the royal circle.
Now there were clucks trailing Reiss, which the woman shrugged off as she did so much more. They shut up when Alistair was with her, but he knew it was probably even worse when she was alone with their baby. Why did it all have to be so blighted complicated?
"Why does it matter?" he groaned to himself. "Spud will be Queen. We did all the fancy paperwork needed to cement that fact. Cailan after that. All the T's dotted, all the I's are crossed. It's set in stone for the Maker's sake. Not literally, though Spuddy wanted to stick a sword in one for some reason."
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