My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  Reiss' hands curled up his neck, her touch slowing his babble. He blinked at her beautiful face, then leaned forward to kiss her. She returned it a moment before whispering, "Myra's not just your daughter, she's your bastard."

  "So what? Am I supposed to toss her out to the wolves? Make her sleep in the kennels? Forget she exists until she's eighteen and suddenly we need her? I'm not doing it!"

  "I know, Alistair," Reiss said. She pressed herself tighter to him for a hug. One hand skirted around their baby's back, the mother gently rubbing Wheaty's soft dress, while the other caressed him. "She's your baby girl. There's no changing that, no denying it. Look at that face."

  "All I see is her breathtaking mother," he smiled, trying to fight through the pit in his stomach.

  "That's because you're blinded by her eyes. That bone structure, that's all you."

  "Poor kid," he muttered, tucking Myra up to plant a kiss to her forehead.

  "She's beautiful," Reiss insisted through his grumping, though she was right. He was blessed with three beautiful children, not a weirdly shaped head or third arm in the bunch. "And she's a bastard."

  "I hate that," Alistair sneered. Hated that it mattered. Hated that people cared. Hated how easily it was thrown around as if it was all this tiny baby's fault in how she came out.

  "It doesn't have to sting if you don't let it," Reiss reached over to hold Myra and Alistair released his hold. She scooped her daughter into her arms, both proud parents gazing down at the vibrant eyes watching them. "So she's a bastard, so what? I don't care. You don't care. Only let into her life the people who don't care."

  "Reiss..." he began.

  "Don't," she shuddered in a breath, "Don't take her to court. Don't let them burn into her so early how wrong she is."

  Alistair drew his fingers down that swath of thick blonde hair, "I wanted to hold her, to be with her. It's hard to leave her for even a second sometimes."

  The woman who was his wife regardless of what any chantry said burrowed her nose into his neck. She sighed, a few tears dripping off her cheeks from the stress of a new baby plus having to deal with him. "I understand. And I get that too. Maybe, to a few meetings. If she's not being fussy and they don't mind. The Denerim ones, they're all used to me and her. But not court. Please. Let her, let her be Myra without the bastard tacked on the front, for a few months anyway."

  "Okay," Alistair nodded, "I'll try. How are you doing?"

  "Good. Up walking, eating normal. I don't have to face a massacre in my pants every time I go to the bathroom, so that's nice," she smiled through the pains her body endured while trying to return to normal.

  He scooped his free hands around her, snuggling his face tight to her shoulder while his eyes peered down at the baby. All he could see in her was Reiss because all he could see was how damn beautiful she was. His little Wheaty. "I meant more about all of this stuff," he waved his hand to try and circle around the bureaucracy but it looked more like he was blaming books for attacking her.

  "People are...I have a few friends here, and that's enough."

  "Wasn't your agency group going to visit soon to pick at the new baby and probably use all their freaky mind tricks to determine what position we used to make her?"

  Reiss blushed a moment at the idea, then a heart warming smile lifted her lips. "Tomorrow. I don't know how many are going to show, but..."

  "I bet it'll be a packed house," Alistair grinned at her.

  He curled tighter to her, his whole world expanding to let a new face in. Why did everyone have to make it so hard? For some reason he was able to tamp down on feeling like an imposter bastard on the throne with Spud and Radish in his arsenal. Perhaps it was because everyone accepted them as legitimate thanks to not knowing the truth and a good dash of willful ignorance. But his Wheaty, they didn't see a cute little baby, only a problem, a rock in the road to succession. Well, too bad for them. This was his daughter and she was going to be in his life even if it pissed off every Bann and Arl in Ferelden.

  "I love you, both of you," Alistair whispered to them.

  "I love you too," Reiss twisted in his grasp, about to kiss him, when she froze and sighed, "And I believe Myra shows her love by shitting in her drawers. If you'll excuse me..." She sighed, trying to shift the soggy bottom away from anything too expensive while Alistair laughed.

  "Sire," Karelle dipped her head in to watch Reiss slipping out the back exit, "you're needed in court."

  Honestly, he'd rather deal with a pile of baby poo than the walking turds out in the grand room. Sighing, he nodded, "Fine." Alistair paused and snickered, "Duty calls."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Happy

  Lunet glowered at the baby cuddled in Reiss' arms as if she feared Myra was about to sprout tentacles and begin to slap her about the room. The rest of the group were far more supportive, the entire office filing into the nursery to get a good look at her baby. They appeared in the middle of Myra's nap, Reiss threatening to have them all disemboweled if anyone woke her. But at the sound of her mother's whispered threats, she stirred, her little fists pounding against the crib's pillow and Reiss lifted her for the entire agency to coo over.

  Well, almost all.

  "That's some fancy duds," Lunet eyed up the red dress with little blue buttons down the front, "for a baby that's gonna shit all over it."

  "Spit up's the bigger problem," Reiss admitted. She sat down in her rocking chair and spun it around to face everyone. Hooking her hands under Myra's armpits, she let the little socked feet brush against her legs while showing off her pride and joy.

  "Is that real silk?" Jorel asked, reaching out for the hem of Myra's outfit.

  "What? Of blighted course it isn't. It's...I think linen, maybe cotton. I'm not a weaver," she groaned.

  "This," Jorel tipped his bull-head towards a blanket that dangled off the crib, "this is made of silk?"

  "Will someone tell me what's wrong with the dwarf?" Reiss asked, glaring around at her crew. Qimat glanced up from her knees; she'd been enraptured with the baby, the glint to her horns often catching Myra's eye. Whenever the flash of green trailed Qimat, the woman would clap and laugh.

  "He's been working on his textile studies," the qunari woman didn't explain.

  "Very poorly, I see," Reiss grumbled. She wished she could fold her arms to glare but they were still full of a baby that was dribbling down her little chin. Dabbing at it with the starry blanket, Reiss sighed, "Okay, what's really going on?"

  Lunet rubbed her nose, "He thinks there has to be some great riches in here he can knick and sell off, what with this being the castle and all."

  "For the love of," Reiss tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. "There are no golden dipped booties, there aren't even any brass ones. All you'll find are some old baby clothes, a giant pile of nappies, an even bigger pile of soiled ones, and half of a mobile."

  "Half?" Kurt spoke up, the first word he'd said beyond "hi."

  Reiss chuckled at the memory, "Alistair tried to put it up but things didn't go according to plan. There's only about half of a dragon circling over Myra's head while she sleeps."

  Every eye shifted over to see, sure enough, the front half of a dragon pivoting around in an elliptical oval off a wire while three stars instead of six trailed it. Reiss figured she'd fix the problem and get the back half up once she had a proper sleep and time to study the instructions. Breaking them away from the King's half failure, Reiss smiled, "So, who wants to hold the baby?"

  She guided Myra into Qimat's arms first, the tiny infant not even the length of her forearm. The poor woman looked like she was carrying a primed grenade from how wide her eyes opened in fear and how gently she clung to the baby. Give her a few minutes, she'd get it down.

  "I want to see her," Jorel tried to tug Myra down to his level, suddenly interested in the reason they came now that there were no secret jewels to be ferreted out hidden behind ancient passageways.

  While the rest of her crew wandered around
Qimat to stare down at that beautiful sunny face, Lunet nudged a shoulder into Reiss. "How's the rat doing up here?"

  "Good, Lune. We're both doing good," Reiss smiled, trying to wave away her friend's concern. It was very misplaced. Despite her minor freak out about finding Myra in the middle of court, everyone had treated her well. She didn't move too much around the palace, but Karelle would swing by -- usually to try and corral the King, but she'd stay and talk with Reiss. And Renata was often sending finger foods up that could be eaten one handed while holding a fussy baby. For as strange as the situation was, the castle seemed to be rolling with it.

  Only Lunet eyed her up cooly, her lip jutting out as she stared over at the baby. "Not even a hint of the point to her, is there? Think she'll pass?"

  Reiss blinked, trying to shake off the indignation that her baby looking like an elf would in anyway be bad while also secretly hoping she did look more human than not. "I don't know. She looks an awful lot like her father."

  "That don't worry you?"

  "Just because you don't understand what I see in him doesn't mean that..." Reiss rolled her eyes at her friend and the teasing faded at the stricken look in Lunet's eye. "What is it?"

  The woman who'd curse the Divine to her face -- though mercifully was never gifted the opportunity -- opened her mouth and then paused. Shaking her head she sighed, "Never mind." A smile raised up Lunet's lips, "You did good. As far as baby's go, that one's pretty cute."

  "What, you thought I'd make something with three heads that spit fire?"

  "I seen you when you're mad. Fire if we're lucky," Lunet snickered bringing a laugh to Reiss. She wanted to wrap an arm around her old friend, around all of them in a great hug. But that would be a bit awkward, especially with Jorel, so she maintained her boss distance.

  Lunet unwrapped a lolly and stuck it into her mouth. She shifted it in her jaw a few times before asking, "You had any chance to take a peek at the case I sent up?"

  At that Reiss laughed, "I'm lucky if I have time to pee, never mind pry into work matters."

  "Fair enough," her friend nodded as if she expected that answer, but didn't want to hear it.

  Reiss side eyed her, then asked, "How are things going in the agency? I haven't heard any..."

  At that moment Myra's little mouth opened wide in a desperate cry for someone familiar to rescue her. "It wasn't me!" Jorel shouted, throwing both of his arms wide. Poor Qimat looked distraught as the baby she'd been entrusted with kept making a Maker awful noise.

  "Here," Reiss reached over and scooped Myra into her arms. "She can get a bit fussy at times," she began to coddle Myra to her chest the same way Alistair would. Maker save her, but it seemed to work, the baby preferring to be vertical as often as possible. "Don't say anything smart, Lunet," Reiss shot over at her friend, well aware of what was about to come.

  "I wasn't thinking nothing," Lunet swore but Reiss knew her far too well.

  Settling into the chair, Reiss pried her baby off her shoulder to stare into those great green eyes and the abandoned tears clinging to her cheeks. "Oh, it's not so bad," she cooed, drying them off with the corner of the blanket. "We're all friends here." Myra's nose crinkled up, almost as if she was attempting a smile but couldn't get her lips to go. Or it might be the start of a sneeze, or a sign of pooping; she couldn't tell.

  A head of shaggy black hair darted in through the room and a familiar sight dashed around the piles of legs to stop in front of Reiss. "Baby!" Cailan cried, already reaching out to cup Myra's stomach. For some reason he found her belly hilarious, in particular when the umbilical cord took its sweet time in falling off. He thought she was pooing out of her stomach, a fact endorsed by his sister that Alistair failed to stop. At this point the entire royal family was going to think Reiss did nothing but poop out of every one of her orifices.

  "Is that...?" Jorel asked, suddenly shifting further away. His wild eyes glanced up at the others and they all seemed to come to the same conclusion, everyone taking a few steps back.

  Reiss watched them a minute, shaking her head at acting as if the three year old had the plague. "Hello Cailan," she greeted the boy.

  "Baby," he giggled, finding Myra endlessly fascinating. Often he'd curl up in Alistair's lap while the pair held her, both rocking away slowly. After Reiss would extract Myra, Alistair would increase the speed, getting even more laughs from his son. The princess was another matter entirely.

  "That's the prince? Prince prince, as in prince of Ferelden?" Jorel continued, seeming to have troubles grasping that simple concept.

  Reiss turned away from the boy poking a finger into Myra's belly to stare at her friends. At that moment, Beatrice entered and their wide eyed stares gave way to a near faint from the appearance of their Queen.

  "My Lady," Kurt bowed first, and the rest began to follow suit. Even Lunet dipped her head down to Beatrice, but she shot her eyes over at Reiss with some accusation in them.

  "Here you are," Beatrice honed in on her boy first. "I should have known. Oh, forgive me, I didn't realize you had guests. And so many interesting characters." The Queen's eyes landed upon Qimat who was having trouble getting her head anywhere near lower than the short woman. "Please stand, you need not go to such back breaking troubles on my account."

  "These are my fellow Solvers," Reiss said, proud of her people.

  "Ah, a visit to see the baby, which I assume is what my wayward son came to do as well."

  "Mummy," Cailan tugged on her droopy sleeve, his mother leaning down. He grabbed onto her cheeks and whispered in her ear, "That's a baby."

  "I know darling," she chuckled. "You require a doll quickly, you cannot keep disturbing Reiss like this."

  "It's all right," Reiss shifted, not wanting to be the cause of the boy's pain, "I don't mind and Myra seems to enjoy it." She had to often remind Cailan to be gentle, but beyond that, her baby's eyes would open wide while watching this other smaller human laugh and dance around her.

  "You are too kind," Beatrice tipped her head at Reiss then spun to her son, "Regardless, you are due for your nap. No, do not try to wheedle out of this. Say goodbye to everyone because we are off."

  She had a good grip on her boy's hand. It took a moment for Cailan to realize there were people other than his mother, Reiss, and the baby in the room. Sheepishly, he dug his chin deep into the collar of his shirt and mumbled out a, "Bye." Then his eyes honed in on the baby and he demanded, "Have to give kiss bye bye!"

  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 h
all." 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.