My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  "'Kay," Lunet bobbed her head, turning towards the others who seemed frozen to the spot.

  Reiss swayed her crying baby in her arms, then turned to her people, "Come in tomorrow early. We need to find a desk, at least one for all of us to work on, and chairs. And there was something in that L'range case that struck me, I want to inspect down at the foundry."

  Her friend's lips lifted in a smile and Lunet bobbed her head, "Aye, aye, Ma'am."

  Turning away from her people, Reiss faced a long, hard climb up the stairs to her old apartment. No, not old. It was her apartment. She knocked open the sticky door to find Alistair sitting on her bed, his head cradled in his hands as the elbows dug divots into his thighs. "Shh," without the immediate screaming match, Reiss turned her attentions on Myra. "It'll be okay. There's no more loud yelling."

  "You sure about that," he whispered from his lap but didn't raise his head.

  Myra's shrieking continued onward, the baby as exhausted as her mother and only able to express it in one fashion. Reiss could handle about two at this point. "Come on, My," Reiss practically begged, "please stop crying. This isn't good for you."

  "Here," Alistair staggered up to his feet and reached out, "let me try."

  She froze a moment, the protective instinct to survive at all costs that she'd cultivated since she was fourteen rearing up. This was her baby. No one would ever hurt her as long as Reiss breathed.

  And that's the father.

  Releasing Myra into Alistair's arms, Reiss padded around her dusty kitchen while he cooed and was generally perfect with their daughter. She kicked up a bit more of a fuss, but once he bounced his nose into hers a few times, and blew kisses on her cheeks, she quieted down. The baby was sated, but neither of the parents were. Silence reigned, only the pitter patter of booted feet leaving for the night and the sound of their new door being jammed into place broke through it.

  Alistair buried his face into the top of Myra's wheat hair. "I was so damn scared," he whispered. "I had no idea what happened. What could have happened to you, to both of you." At that he looked up at Reiss and tears dripped down his cheeks.

  "Alistair," she padded over towards him, wanting to soothe his pains away.

  He sneered and wiped a wrist against the tears. "Would it have killed you to leave a note?" the snarl was back in place to cover over the emotions.

  "I did."

  "Yeah, 'Hey, Lunet showed up, so I'm taking Myra on a little jaunt about the city. Love Reiss.' Does that sound like a trip that should take over 12 hours? I kept saying, oh, she's catching up with her friend. She probably got pulled into a case. No reason to worry if they stopped outside the gates for a bite to eat or something. Maybe they're making a really big quilt together. That takes time. But when you didn't show up with our child by midnight, I was..."

  Alistair glanced back at the window, the tears returning but he didn't want her to see. "I know what happens to people on the streets in this city. What could have happened to both of you."

  She gritted her teeth, her arms circling around to hug herself. He wasn't wrong, but he wasn't right either. He didn't really know, he just read about it. Sucking in a breath to try and steady her voice, she said, "I'm sorry I didn't send along a message to the palace. I...I got embroiled in fixing this place, we had to have it up and running before nightfall. And the time slipped away from me. I didn't want to worry you."

  "Why?" he shook his head, the edges of his cheeks puckering as if he smelled something foul, "Why nightfall?"

  "Because if we didn't make a show of strength the shems were going to burn it to the ground," she growled, the rage returning. It was the same that helped her to kill a full grown tal-vashoth when she was only a girl, to take down Brunt with a broken arm. It was an unquenchable fury that could send dragons skittering away in terror.

  "Burn it to the ground," Alistair shook his head, "do you even hear yourself? I'm asking because you can't possibly be thinking of the same thing I am. Death by fire? How horrific that is? Maybe you got it confused with being smothered by cupcakes or something."

  "My sister nearly..." Reiss snarled before walking it back. "I stopped it."

  "For now, what about tomorrow? Or the day after that? Or next Tuesday? Tuesdays are big bonfire days around here. How many times are you going to have to face down a mob come to kill you?"

  "As many as it fucking takes!" she shrieked, then caught Myra's eyes opening wide in preparation of more tears. Screwing up her face, Reiss turned to glare at the ground, but she circled her hand up and down her baby's back. All she wanted was to climb into bed with her child snuggled up on her chest and for a few brief hours forget the world existed. Forget that people hated her, hated her baby, came to her door to try and kill her.

  "Why you?" Alistair interrupted her thoughts. "Lunet, or the dwarf twins, or the qunari woman. They could all stand watch now that you know it could be coming."

  "It has to be me," Reiss sighed. He glared, his normally sweet eyes razor sharp by the candlelight. "I'm the knife-eared whore," she said to try and explain it. "They don't care about taking down Lunet, or a couple of dwarves, or even a large ash skin. It's me, I'm the one, the face of this place. They're trying to hurt me. To stop me."

  "Why?" he brushed his lips over Myra's chubby cheeks.

  Reiss rolled her eyes, wanting to hit something, anything. "You know why. You're holding the why."

  "She's just a baby," Alistair whimpered as if that made any damn difference. Reiss knew there'd be trouble when she signed on for this affair with him. There'd been the occasional rumble and spit in her face in the early days, but as she worked to form a bond with the people around her it stopped. They came to see her as something other than the King's sidepiece, something they could count on and needed. Somehow this little proof of their affair was enough to set that dusty, forgotten powder keg aflame.

  "I have to stay here," Reiss said, returning to pacing. Her path to redemption lay out before her. "Get the agency back on track. Solve some big cases. Find the fucking sword they stole from us. Be in the area at all times so they see my face and don't think I've run off with my tail between my legs."

  "By the void you are," Alistair spoke up. His voice was a whisper for their baby, but fire flared in his eyes. "We had a deal."

  "A 'deal?' Way to make it sound sleazy? Should I expect you to leave a few coins on the chest before you leave in the morning?"

  "That isn't what...you agreed to spend the year up there with me. Let me be with my little girl."

  "That deal didn't include the eventuality of someone storming into my agency and destroying everything they could smash," Reiss growled, "The deal isn't an option anymore. This is where I belong. This was always where we belong."

  Myra began to babble in her own language, almost as if she was trying to get into this serious conversation about her future. It was enough to throw off Alistair's anger as he gazed down at his baby girl gurgling and drooling. "And I'm what, supposed to just be fine with you two down here on the streets in the heart of this mess, with angry mobs storming your door, alone? To risk our child's life for this?"

  "There are hundreds of children in Denerim right now living in these dangerous neighborhoods, but you don't cry a tear for them. Their suffering doesn't matter because, what, they're not of royal blood?"

  "It's different," he gritted his teeth.

  "Why? Why is it different? She's a baby, she drools, she poops her drawers, just like the dozens of other half-blood infants across the city who might be sleeping in a drawer, or with a rat for a pillow. Now you suddenly worry about the crime here because your daughter spent all of twelve hours near it?"

  He chewed into his lip, wanting to lash out at her, but he didn't have anything to strike back with. She could counter it all without lifting an arm. He heard of it, but she knew what went on here, faced it every day when not pretending to be something else in the castle in the clouds. Alistair's brow clouded and he huffed, "Are you blaming me for the fact
things aren't perfect? I am trying to make things better for people."

  "Then try harder!" Reiss shrieked, tears springing in her eyes. "I...I'm sorry. It's not easy, I know; but, Alistair, I'm an elf. I'll always be an elf. This isn't some fairytale where the pretty girl suffers for a few years in squalor before being whisked away to her castle. Real people here are scrabbling to make due, my people. And they're her people too."

  Myra blew a great bubble with her lips, which popped upon her father's chin. He smiled softly at her infant antics before sighing, "I want what's best for her. I want to keep her safe."

  "I know," Reiss slid closer, "but she's not a princess. She's a bastard. Life won't be easy," She wrapped her arms around him and Myra before burying her face into Alistair's shoulder, "it wasn't for you."

  "Ha, it was a walk through cake compared to yours."

  Reiss caressed her hand over Myra's head, the blonde hair sifting like fine golden silk. "She has a home, she has parents, that's already doing better than a lot of elves I know in the alienage."

  He stared into their little girl's big green eyes, both of which honed in on her daddy's great nose. Myra loved swiping at it, as if she could catch the end and keep it for herself. More of the tears resumed dripping off his cheeks. "You promised," he whispered, the words barely catching in the wind. At Reiss' confusion Alistair continued, "You swore I'd be a part of her life. Well, how can I be when you're both down here? Huh?"

  The fire returned in him, Alistair glaring at Reiss as she slid away. She hadn't figured it out yet, there'd been so much else with rescuing her agency. Working Alistair in was a problem to solve later. If...

  "I am her father," he swore, his hands cupping tighter to Myra. The baby caught on that Daddy was getting madder by the second. Her nearly constant smile drooped down and she tried to reach over to pat at his cheeks, perhaps in an attempt to get him to smile again. "And you just get to decide, without me, without even letting me know what's going on, that I have no more say in my daughter's life."

  "I didn't..." Reiss tried to butt in.

  He rose up off the bed, the tears dried to anger as he began to pace. Reiss kept one eye on him and another on Myra, watching her cub the way a cautious mountain lion would. "You know, you know what my kids mean to me. All of them. I already barely get to see 'em as much as I want, and this!" Alistair gasped, his voice cracking as he shook his head like a mad bull. "You can't do this."

  "I'm not leaving my home," Reiss formed up on him. "And Myra isn't leaving my side, not until she's weened." Fear grew inside her gut. What if Alistair abducted their baby? What if he turned on his heel with her, fled into the night back to his fortified palace, and refused to return her? Reiss couldn't do a thing to stop him.

  She extended her arms, holding them as steady as she could while staring into his eyes. Alistair glanced over at Myra's watering eyes, then sighed, "I'm sorry." Reiss girded herself, preparing to leap forward, but he released her daughter back into her arms. Maker, she felt stupid for even thinking it.

  "Is there nothing I can do to talk you out of this? Out of risking our baby girl's life just so you can show up a few bastards? Prove that you're strong. For the love of the Maker, Reiss, you don't have to stick your chin out every time danger appears just to show you can survive. We already know it."

  Was she being stubborn? Reiss turned to stare into her baby's face, the stub of a nose bumping into hers. More drool stained Myra's chin, the jawline nearly the exact same shape as her father's. But that didn't matter. Even if Reiss had a boy who was the spitting image of Alistair, he wouldn't be safe, he couldn't ever be, because he'd still be elf-blooded until the day he died.

  "You don't understand," she said.

  "Then blighted explain it to me!"

  She closed her eyes, feeling everything crashing around inside of her. "I have to stay. Myra has to remain with me until she's on solids. That's how this works. This is our place in the world, and if you don't like it, then...there's the door. I won't hold you prisoner."

  "Maker's breath!" Alistair shouted, his hands knotting together as if he was trying to strangle the air. "Fine. You want to stay? I'll...ah!" He stomped towards the exit, not even looking back at her or their daughter. In his state, he didn't even bother to close the door, just let it fly back on its rusted hinges and rest limply by the wall.

  All the fight in Reiss fled in an instant and she crumbled to her knees onto the bed. She wanted to curl up in agony, but the baby pressed up tight in her lap, Myra twisting around with her arms flailing in the air as if she was reaching for her father. Her father who just walked out the door without a second thought. How could she do this? How could she do this again?

  Alistair, please...

  The mess of tears pooling on her cheeks paused as she heard grunting from the floor below. A crash of something heavy striking the wall, then another, increased closer up the stairs. Oh Maker, they hadn't returned, had they? Reiss glanced around her tiny home hoping to find anything she could defend herself with. There was a knife, but with a baby in her arms the reach was minimal.

  She was about to edge towards the window, when a crib appeared in the door. Red faced from the strain, Alistair slid the piece of furniture he carried up her long staircase into the middle of the room. "Wh..." Reiss swallowed, afraid it was all a mirage her exhausted brain dreamed up, "what are you doing?"

  "You need a bed for Myra, and you're not supposed to lift anything bigger than...how much does our daughter weigh?"

  "Twelve pounds," Reiss recited part of the typical greeting for any new mother. She plopped to her numb feet, slowly sidling towards the crib that he carted up the stairs for them both. In all the time during the day, Reiss hadn't considered how she'd get it up here. Or... Maker's sake, she hadn't done a damn thing to prepare her home for a baby.

  "Myra needs sleep," Alistair grumbled, the brow furrowed under clouds, but his voice was softer. "We all need sleep."

  "Alistair...?"

  "I'm not happy about this, not at all," he shuddered in a breath, then glanced over at her, "But I know you. You're like trying to move a damn mountain when you dig your heels in. And I'm not losing Myra, or you. I love you both even if one of you's really pissing me off right now."

  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 hersel
f 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.