Alistair glanced up and down it a moment, but he returned back to her hat. "There is something different," he skirted his finger over the dip to the brim.
"Right," Reiss remembered now, "I cut holes in the side so my ears would stick out."
He blinked a moment before smiling, "No tape this time?"
"No, they weren't rubbing, it...funny enough it turned out people were asking about the elf. The investigator elf to help fix things, solve their problems, but when I wore the hat no one realized I was an elf, so..."
Alistair laughed at her ingenuity, his hands locking around her back. He looked as if he wanted to kiss her, and Maker did she want him to, but the office had been saddled with enough of their affection. Reiss placed her fingertips to his lips instead, softly tracing up and down the tiny bow.
"How long did you get off this time?" she asked.
"I was a very good boy who did all his homework. Two days," he smiled wide.
"Two days? You know I have work to do during that time?" she gasped, even while silently excited for every potential minute together.
"So I'll sit there watching you do all that work people keep gushing to me about."
Lunet twisted back to shout, "You'll be sitting on the floor, all the chairs are claimed."
It warmed Reiss' heart how quickly Lunet came to accept the strange arrangement between King and city elf. As Lune put it, "If he's willing to sleep in rat infested apartments with nearly no heat and spitting distance to the alienage just to make you happy, then...who am I to hate him?" It moved from a begrudging respect to dare Reiss even think it, a friendship. At least Alistair gave back as good as Lunet did, which endeared them both to each other.
"People were talking about me?" Reiss asked, wanting to hear the latest gossip about her little group.
"Oh Maker, yes. Shiani was going on and on about that one you solved with the alienage underground nug fighting ring. Had to tell me all the details and I happily pretended I didn't already know them, but she kept smiling in her not really smiling way to say 'That woman's sure sharp.'"
"She's just happy that it turned out to be the work of the shem gangs. If I'd had to have pointed the finger at the elves instead..."
"Reiss," Alistair grabbed onto her hands and pinned them close, "you're doing good work, amazing work. I...I'm damn proud of you. Which I mean in a sincere way and not a 'I have no idea what you painted but you got most of it on the parchment so good job' way. Denerim's been changing, improving with your little group here toiling away. People don't say it, but there's trust in the air. And that's a very good thing to have."
She smiled, his words swaddling her like the fuzziest blankets, but she cocked an eyebrow up and smirked, "How long were you working on that speech?"
"Four days, pretty much since the last second I saw you. Oh," he yanked his hands away to go rifling in his pocket. "Here."
Alistair plopped what looked like a desiccated apple core nearly picked clean that someone then sewed a small kerchief too. Reiss let it rest in her palms, slightly terrified it was a new clue in a case involving cultists. At her confused look, he explained, "Spud's learned how to make dried apple dolls. Well, being four she thinks taking the time for someone to carve a face and wait for it to dry is boring, so she eats the apple, then insists one of us tack on a dress. I've got a good four in my office. She wanted you to have this one."
"That's sweet of her," Reiss smiled, happily placed the apple core doll down beside the vase on her desk. "And we should be going," she grabbed onto his arm, tugging him through the maze of desks. So much work waited for her, the city teeming with problems that used to get kicked under the rug. It was both exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. "I'm off, probably won't be back til nightfall."
"When we'll all be long gone, trust me," Lunet shouted for the others trying to politely not watch their boss and King make out.
"Lune, can you lock up?" Reiss asked, already knowing the answer. At her slow nod accompanied by two raised fingers, Reiss tugged Alistair to the door. Outside, Denerim bustled through the snow, the slush in the streets turning a dingy grey but white flecks cleared away the rot to reveal gleaming hope below.
She reached behind her to tug on the door, the damn thing always sticking, when her eyes caught a sign dangling above her head. It read "Solvers: Investigators Into Affairs and Crimes Thought Impossible" with the address for "221 on the street with the Baker" below that. Reiss turned over to Alistair who was trying to fish a scarf out of the folds of his layered clothing's pockets.
"Did you do this?" she asked, jabbing a finger at it.
"Nope," he admitted, which caused her to cross her arms, "I swear. I didn't think you were sold on the name. It must have been one of your other loyal fans."
"I..." Reiss gazed up at it, noticing that while the lettering wasn't perfectly crafted, the cheap paint flecking off already, it was just right. "I guess so."
"Told you, you're having an impact," Alistair bowed his arm out, which Reiss gladly took as they walked towards the alienage. "And, about Satinalia...Please say you'll come. I know, you're busy, but Bea's bringing her entire family. I think she's got a good five dozen sisters. I tried counting them all once, but I ran out of toes. I really need backup, an excuse to slip away before the constant clucking of how I'm failing my children by breathing wrong overwhelms me. You should know, I'm not above begging."
"Okay," she pressed tighter to him, savoring the warmth from his body that embraced her soul. "I'll come. It'd be nice to see the kids again."
"Spud's moved from despot tyrant to evil Empress, thank the Maker for four. I thought three would nearly kill me. But then Cailan..."
"Uh oh, what now?"
"Did I not tell you? He's finally figured out that those stumpy legs can do more than walk. I think Spud pretty much moved from rolling around to running without any stops in the middle, but that kid loved nothing more than to sit and watch. People feared maybe there was something wrong because he wasn't up and running."
"People like you?" Reiss prodded her elbow into him, and Alistair released his arm so he could curl it around her hip. They moved as one down the side of the street.
"I worry about everything, especially when it comes to my kids. But Bea was like 'It'll be fine, and even if it's not we'll find a solution.' Some solution. Kid gets up to his wobbly legs, takes a few steps, then out of nowhere bolts out the door. We're all in such shock, no one thinks to chase after him. He was damn near down the palace steps before anyone tries to stop the prince from rushing headlong under the horses. Now he's got every nanny and handmaiden in the palace chasing after him, and laughing at the top of his lungs at their misfortune."
"Sounds like a handful, that you wouldn't change for a thing," Reiss smiled.
Alistair slowed his steps so he could stare deep into her eyes, "Not a lick. Not Spud, not the speedy baby shattering every wobbly vase in the palace, and never you."
"I know it's not easy, my being out here instead of..." Reiss began. There were nights when she ached for him, days when she missed seeing him across her tiny table and she knew he felt the same.
His fingers smooshed against her lips, stopping her apology, "You're happy, and so am I. It's working. Maker take me, but somehow it is, and I am so grateful for it." Dipping to his knees, Alistair moved to kiss her, when his forehead banged into the rim of her hat.
Playfully, he tipped it back giving him the room to press his lips to hers, his hands swooping around her back. People shifted around the two idiots kissing with their whole hearts, no one giving a second glance at the King madly in love with an elf that couldn't imagine anyone else at her side. As Alistair broke away from her, a giddy smile in place, his fingers tugged Reiss' hat back in place. She laughed at the move but he kept running the tip of his finger back and forth over the brim.
"Oh for all the," Reiss yanked off her hat, the fabric tugging on her ears as it went, then plopped it onto Alistair's head. His face lit up in an instant
, the man obsessed with hats. Which seemed particularly odd as he never wore one. "You know, I really thought it'd be the coat you'd want to wear instead? Did you see these pockets?"
He twisted his obsession around, the hat too small for his head, but Alistair wasn't about to give up. After gazing skyward at it for a moment, he stared down at Reiss. "I only want to see that coat on you," leaning closer to her ears, his warm breath washed over them as he whispered, "preferably with nothing else on."
"That..." the blush she should have gotten over but somehow never left her always butterflying stomach rampaged her cold cheeks. Touching her fingers to it to warm them, she smiled, "that can be arranged."
"Good," Alistair tucked her tight to him, "now, to dumplings because I am starving!"
In the years of her scrounging life, Reiss never thought she'd want to spend her days staring at knife wounds, asking dock workers if they saw anything shady the night in question, or telling a widow that she knew who killed his husband. But now she couldn't imagine doing anything else.
And after all those lonely nights, Reiss never imagined she could be with someone so sweet, kind, hilariously goofy, and...Maker, those shoulders. It may not be perfect, but it was right.
Hand in hand, the two of them walked down the street together to the promise of a warm future full of dumplings and whatever else may come.
Miracle
Miracle
After the Hero of Ferelden thinks she stumbled into a way to cure the taint and shares it with King Alistair, neither of them took into account any unexpected side effects emerging 9 months later. Two unexpected pregnancies, two unplanned babies, two terrified fathers, hilarity ensues.
This is for everyone who wanted to read Alistair as an about to be dad and for those who didn't ask for Cullen to worry himself to death over it.
A follow up to Guarded Love and the rest of the My Love series.
CHAPTER ONE
Uh-Oh
A giant qunari lady's horn almost smacked right into Alistair's cheek. Luckily, he had just enough waning training in his blood to dodge first before asking questions. The woman in question was spinning on her feet, trying to wrestle with a dwarf that had no mind to pay for whatever crime he kept insisting he didn't commit. She groaned, her eyes rolling as the dwarf inched his manacled hands around a desk and drew forth a small letter opener to defend himself. Unaware of the King enjoying the show, the newest detective yanked up the dwarf by the waistband of his pants and dangled him high in the air.
"Hey, let me down!" he squirmed, those short legs paddling freely.
The Qunari snarled, "Not bloody likely," then she turned and caught the human flesh clogging up the door, "oh, hi your Majesty."
"Don't mind me," Alistair chuckled. "I'll keep far out of your way." He was used to the hustle and bustle of the Solver's agency by now. Voices shouted out questions from one end of the room to the other, the sound of quills scratching against vellum a constant background noise, and...sure enough there glittering in the back of the madness were the eyes he expected.
"Lunet," Alistair tipped his head to the elf that was both confusingly secretary and second in command at the same time. He paused and thought of Karelle. Actually, that wasn't so surprising. "Where's...?" he began, when a voice called from behind a giant stack of crates.
"I'm back here."
"Reiss," he finished first to Lunet -- who only shrugged, then got back to jabbing her pastry into a stein of coffee. Sliding through the office's maze of desks, always shifting thanks to evidence piling up at random, Alistair came to a seeming impenetrable wall made of stacks and stacks of boxes. Somewhere behind it was the woman he loved, the clear sound of her belabored breath breaking past the wooden barrier.
"Hello!" he shouted, a hand cupped to his mouth. "Excuse me, keeper of the boxes, but have you seen a lovely elf by any chance? About five foot seven with golden hair, eyes of summer, and the sharpest tongue you've ever faced?" Alistair felt a snicker from the dark haired elf behind him and he tipped his head in recognition.
"Oh for the..." Reiss growled, when her head shot out through a hole. Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and she'd doffed her hat to reveal that familiar bun, though the requisite dagger was nowhere to be seen.
"Hello," Alistair smiled before bending over and placing a soft kiss to her perturbed lips. Her hand lashed out from behind the wall, fingers tenting against his cheek for balance as she returned the affection. "Busy?"
"When aren't I?" Reiss volleyed back. Groaning, she slid half her body through the hole, slightly widening it. "If you maybe duck down you can get in through here." It took more than his ducking, Alistair having to suck in his gut which he'd always considered rather trim, as well as feeling the unfinished wood snag upon the backside of his trousers. But, after a bit of impossible bending of his body, he made it back to where her desk sat.
Walled off from the rest of the office, a strange silence fell, as if they were in a secret cave hiding from an oncoming storm. Reiss wiped her hands off on her tunic, oddly missing the scrap of plate metal she always wore. A few ink stains and whatever filth clung to the boxes trailed behind her hands, but Alistair didn't care.
"Maker's breath, you're beautiful," he murmured, entranced with the set in her glistening eyes and the turn to her smile.
"You always say that," she answered back, but a soft blush rose upon those cheeks.
With a curl of his fingers, he tipped a breakaway tendril of golden hair back behind her ears and whispered, "Because it's always true." This time Reiss crossed the distance, her hands wrapping tight around the back of his neck while her lips devoured his. She must have been famished, her tongue quickly finding its way in to resuscitate his. Pinning his palms around her waist, Alistair wished to shed every stitch of clothing off her.
"Oi, you two better not be snogging in there," Lunet's snarky voice managed to reach them through the barricade.
Breaking away from him with a sigh at being interrupted, Reiss smiled, "Hello, husband."
"Hello, wife," he whispered, always lighter when he could say those words to her. There was almost no one else in thedas who knew, but damn it, it meant something to him. "Let me guess," he gestured to the boxes, "there was a great estate sale and you simply had to buy everything in the place."
"Ha," Reiss laughed once, her body slotting against his side in a half hug. Pointing to each section of wall, she explained, "Let's see, Dixon Hill case, an Adrian's Ghost Monk, missing Miss Marples, and the Purloined Pussy."
"You're looking into someone's missing cat?" he asked, surprised she'd take on such a small matter.
Reiss blinked a moment, then blushed, "Not exactly, no."
"How are you surviving back here?" he stared around at this secret base where no one else entered or left. "How long have you been surviving in this?"
"Not very, a few days," she waved her hand as if it wasn't a problem, "I can slip out if the need arises and I trust my people to handle anything big that comes through the door." Reiss pressed her warm lips against his neck, obviously trying to distract him from her current predicament. Sadly, Alistair was a simple man and it was working perfectly for her.
Moaning in the back of his throat, he turned, prepared to do all the snogging he wanted with the boss. Reiss slipped away, those dangerously smart eyes sizing him up. "You got here rather quickly..."
"I had little to do today. Really. Pinkie swear," he extended it out and even under her scrutinizing stare, she returned the gesture with her own. "The castle's been recuperating from the huge birthday party."
Reiss smiled wide at that, "How'd it go?"
"Pretty good. Spud ushered in the big six with near on ten thousand of her cousins around. Maker's sake, I have no idea how many there are, it's just a sea of tiny hands and feet flapping around up there. Spent the day eating cake, opening up presents, drinking punch, eating more cake, then riding around on ponies."
She tipped her head at that, "You didn't ride a pony, right?"
Slowly her eyes darted down his form that'd crush the poor thing.
"Had to, the birthday girl insisted. While all the kids were saddled up and squealing, I sort of waddled around over top the poor thing squished between my thighs."
The bright laughter echoing in Reiss' throat was enough to make up for his abject humiliation. In truth, it wasn't that bad, Spud clapping like mad every time the pony whinnied in annoyance. And he didn't get kicked, so that was good.
"How'd Cailan take it?"
"About as good as can be expected at three," Alistair admitted. "At first he was terrified of the thing. I couldn't blame him, the poor pony's bridle was festooned with ribbons. It looked like its head was being consumed by a cotton candy colored squid. Then he saw his sister wanted to ride and we couldn't stop the kid from leaping into a saddle."
Reiss slid out from hugging him in order to sit down upon her desk. Her eyes kept staring up at his face while she gripped onto the edge for balance.
"It's real fun when he's at that age to want to do everything his sister does and she's at the age where she doesn't want a damn thing to do with him. Near on everyday it's an utter conniption over 'Daddy, he's touching my things!' 'Daddy, I don't wanna take Caywen!' And of course my son's just crying 'Sissy' and chasing after her as if it's all a fun game."
Her sweet shoulders began to shake a little at a contained laugh from his misfortune. Reaching forward, her fingers skirted with his and she gripped to his hand. "They'll grow out of it."
"Maker's sake, I hope so. There was a near on meltdown right outside the chantry steps because 'Caywen touched my kerchief.' And Cailan's bawling because Spud's being mean and he's so very tender hearted about such things. I thought the Grand Cleric was going to have me excommunicated, then tossed into the stocks on the very spot for it," he paused to shake his head at the children that both filled and drained his life. It was a good day when it came to a wash. "At least Cailan's pretty much out of nappies."
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