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Maeve stood over her sad attempt at dinner. She was not a cook by any means, but she had put all this effort in to try and show Cullen and Alistair that she missed them on their week long mission to the ruins of Haven. It had been their first one together since Jena had been born three months previously and it was the first time Maeve had been left on her own with their young daughter. Maeve managed well enough, but the short week they had been gone made Maeve see just how much she relied on them both. Maeve had spent most of the day trying her best to cook a decent meal for the two men she cared so deeply for. Her efforts were less than successful.
The two men sat across the table. Each out of their armor and in simple tunics, trying their best to act like they were excited by the food before each of them. A single bowl of fairly solid stew in front of each man. Alistair had a spoon in his like he was about to take a bite then stopped to look up at Maeve, hands folding in front of her flour dusted apron. Her long dark hair falling from the messy bun she had thrown it up in. “Go on…” Maeve urged nervously.
Cullen was eyeing the flat, rock hard bread that sat between them before looking up at Maeve. She looked so proud of the concoctions that she had made. Mustering a warm smile, Cullen knocked his knuckles against the top there was a solid thunk. His face paled a little as it took every ounce of effort he had to keep the smile plastered across his face as he looked up at Maeve. “It looks...” Cullen’s voice began to waiver.
Never missing a cue, Alistair leaned forward and finished what he hoped was going to be Cullen’s thought. “It looks wonderful!” Alistair exclaimed as he reached over and grabbed Cullen’s arm stopping him before he potentially said something that would have only upset their love’s tender feelings. They shared a lingering knowing look before they shared a short, barely noticeable nod. Turning back to Maeve, Alistiar smirked up at her. “It looks like a really good attempt, love.” He was forcing every ounce of enthusiasm he could because he could tell Maeve had worked hard on the lackluster spread before them. He knew for a fact that Morrigan could cook food that even hounds would turn their noses up at, so he knew Maeve had next to no reference on how to make anything remotely edible.
Her simple black dress, old tattered apron (that she had stolen from the kitchens) and much of her face and hair were covered in flour. So much that Cullen made the mental note that she had appeared to make a bigger mess of herself attempting to cook for them than he had ever seen her in a fight. There was something infinitely sweet about the fact she had put forth so much effort into preparing a meal for them. Even if it did look absolutely disgusting.
Still thinking that she had done a passing job, Maeve beamed at the complements, “Really?” She asked happily. “I have never really cooked before,” Maeve admitted as she wiped her hands on the flour-covered apron. There was so much pride in her voice that both Alistair and Cullen were smiling to see her back more to the woman they had both fallen in love with. “Sera helped me with the bread...” Cullen and Alistair slowly turned to face each other. Sharing a panicked glance before turning back to their bowls. “Eat...go on... I am going to go check on Jena...” Taking off her apron, laying it across the back of a nearby chair, Maeve turned and walked into the next room where the infant had been sleeping.
Once alone, the two men turned to each other, looking skeptically towards the bowls of stew. Each man poked at it, making various forms of the same unsettled look. Alistair glanced over his shoulder at Cullen as he tried to muster the will to take a bite but the smell from the bowl was enough to stop him. “She really cannot cook...” Alistair noted in a strained voice, wiggling the spoon in the congealed mass of something that had intentions of being a stew. He nearly lifted the spoon from the bowl before he shook his head and set it down and pushed it away.
Cullen lifted the spoon from his bowl, a chunk of brown gelatinous food wiggling on the utensil as he grimaced. With his own pained sigh he sunk the spoon back in the bowl. “No... no she cannot.” Cullen concluded with a small groan. “She is a skilled fighter...” He noted trying to find other skills she possessed. “She is very funny when she wants to be as well.” He nodded as he looked more closely at the bread before leaning back in the chair, arms crossed shaking his head.
Alistair nodded as he turned to Cullen.“Yes, she is a good mother too, I mean Jena is everything to her,” He smiled. “Maeve is so good at so many important things.” Cullen nodded in agreement.
“Absolutely.” Cullen agreed as he watched the door. “Our girl is beautiful, smart, funny... but not a cook.” He laughed, hanging his head for a moment before looking back up and watching the door. He hadn’t seen Jena yet, she had been napping since they returned. She was his child, that was unmistakable from the day she had been born. He never held it over Alistair’s head and very much viewed Alistair as another one of her parents. Yet, Jena was his baby and he missed her. He could hear Maeve mumbling to Jena who was protesting being woken up. A smirk passed across his lips as he realized that Maeve was going to bring her out.
Alistair noticed Cullen watching the door and smirked before he patted Cullen’s arms. “Not a cook…maybe a baker?” Alistair repeated as he reached out and lifted up the dense bread before dropping it back to the plate. As it hit the porcelain, the bread was so dense that it cracked the plate. Both men started to laugh. “Not a baker either,” Alistair shook his head as he sunk back in the chair running his hands through his messy hair as he sighed. “Oh Andraste bless her, she tried.”
“She really did,” Cullen agreed with a small laugh and a warm smile. “But we can’t eat this.” He pointed out gesturing to the food before him.
“You’re right.” Alistair reached over and picked up Cullen’s bowl before standing. “I think the hogs will enjoy the feast.” He concluded as he brought the bowls over to the fire and scrapped the contents back into the pot that was filled with the same unappetizing brown sludge. There was more noise from the other room of the baby cooing and Maeve speaking to her before the door creaked open drawing both men’s attention.
As the door opened, Maeve stood in the doorway, a small child no more than a few months old in her arms. A pained expression passed across her pale face as she realized what was going on. The little girl chewing a pale pink blanket that was mostly wrapped around her. Both Alistair and Cullen smiled brightly at the child before their expression quickly shifted as Maeve let out a pained groan before uttering, “It was bad? Really bad? I messed it up?” She was genuinely upset with her failure to provide such a basic need for her family. With a heavy sigh, she clung to the squirming infant in her arms. “How did I ever expect that I could do this?!” She exclaimed in defeat.
Alistair set the bowls down on the grey flagstone floors and Cullen quickly stood from the table. The chair he was sitting in nearly knocked over with how fast he stood. Within a few moments both men were at Maeve’s side. Uttering as much reassurance as they could in a jumbled mess of words. Maeve kept shaking her head till Alistair slipped his hand over her cheek and made her look at him as he began to speak. Cullen smiled warmly down at the little girl in her arms, who shared the same mess of soft blonde curls as he did. Reaching over he patted Jena’s back before leaning down and kissing the top of her head. “Hello, sweetheart…” Cullen whispered before turning his attention back to Maeve and Alistair.
Meanwhile, Alistair was doing his best to pull Maeve out of her spiral of shame. “Sparrow, it is fine... not everyone can cook.” He reassured as he tried to keep her attention for a moment. Tears of frustration were rolling down her cheeks. Running his calloused thumb across her pale freckled cheek, Alistair wiped her tears away. “You are a very capable woman, just not a cook.” There was no frustration in his voice, only concern that something that in the grand scale of things was once again spiraling into something that would take Maeve days to pull herself out of. “Maeve, love, it’s not that bad…”
Maeve made a pained groan as she turned to Cullen. He smiled warmly as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “You handled Jena on your own for the first time. That’s an accomplishment... right?” Maeve shrugged.
“I had Raven and Morrigan to help,” she protested trying to downplay the fact she had just spent the first full week on her own with their daughter. While Morrigan and Raven both helped occupy Jena during the day while Maeve did what work she needed to in the running of the Inquisition. All night she was on her own, and that was when Jena struggled the most. The baby slept about as well as her collective parents, often only sleeping soundly being held by Cullen. Jena did not handle the first few days of his absence well at all and Maeve had struggled. “I am her mother. Tis not like it should be a feat of note for me to take care of her on my own.” Maeve whispered as she held Jena close.
“Oh, Morrigan and Raven don’t count as help.” Chuckling softly Alistair reached over and slipped his hands around Jena lifting her from Maeve’s arms. A small gasp of protest escaped Maeve’s lips but when she saw the way Jena’s face lit up when she heard Alistair’s voice she could only smile. Alistair settled the infant in his arms before turning back to Maeve, “It is still a big feat to take care of my peanut...all by yourself for a week!” Alistair agreed, kissing Maeve’s other cheek. Jena made a soft coo of protest that Alistiair had turned his attention away from her. “Oh, I am sorry, peanut… am I not paying enough attention to my girl?” He asked playfully, looking down at her he began to make a silly face to amuse the little girl he viewed as much his own child as Keran was. “Mama did a good job with everything else but cooking,” Alistair pointed out as if he was talking to Jena, who started to giggle as her pudgy little hand reached out towards Alistair’s face. He playfully began to pretend to bite at her fingers which only made the little girl’s giggles to intensify.
Slipping his hand over the small of Maeve’s back before pulling her back against him, Cullen wrapped his arms around her waist. “See, you did well at what was most important, Jena,” he whispered. Maeve mustered a smile as Cullen leaned in and rested his chin on her shoulder as she watched Alistair playing with Jena. In her heart she knew Cullen spoke the truth, but she had hoped to be able to be the image of a proper Fereldan wife and mother, which included being able to feed your family. A small sigh of defeat escaped her lips.
Cullen let out a sigh of his own, as his hands ran across Maeve’s stomach pulled her back against him. “You do not have to be a good cook for us to love you. You know that by now,” Cullen whispered as he kissed her neck making Maeve chuckle softly as she playfully started to push him away. Cullen’s grip tightened as he laughed and turned her around so Maeve was facing him.
“Cullen...Come on,” Maeve laughed as she tried to pull away. Her golden eyes darted over to Alistair who only shook his head.
Cullen’s hand ran over the small of Maeve’s back as he pulled her closer, “What? I missed you…” He whispered leaning as he planted a quick kiss on her lips as Maeve laughed. Her hands resting on his chest as if she was going to push him away at first.
Smirking just a few feet away, Alistair leaned down and acted as if he was about to whisper a great secret to Jena, “Look at Mama and Papa...” Alistair laughed as he bounced Jena in his arms. “They are so cute when they want to be.”
Instantly Cullen and Maeve broke the kiss and the both looked over at Alistair. Maeve turned around and waved her hand dismissively, “Oh, you can hush...” Maeve laughed. Cullen was smirking behind her, his hand gliding over her hips as she reached out and gestured to Alistair to give her the baby back. “Can I please have my daughter back now?” She asked softly, taking a step away from Cullen and towards Alistair. Behind her Cullen raised his eyebrows and pointed to himself silently gesturing for Alistair to give him the baby finally. Catching Cullen’s subtle cue, Alistair playfully pouted before he kissed Jena’s cheek. Maeve was reaching out for Jena, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the silent exchange between the men.
Once she was close enough, he leaned in. “No,” Alistair teased as he leaned in to kiss Maeve to distract her as Cullen snuck up beside them, lifting Jena from Alistair’s arms in a fluid movement. Once his hands were free, they went straight to Maeve’s hips and gripped them tight enough to keep her from spinning around and beginning her protest again. Cullen had his moment with her, now Alistair wanted his. “Oh no,” Alistair chuckled. “Let Cullen cuddle his baby.” He urged tenderly as he reached up and caressed her cheek before kissing her softly..
The kiss did not last long as she heard Cullen talking softly to Jena. Breaking the kiss as she glanced over her shoulder she saw Cullen resting his cheek against the top of her head as Jena continually chewed on her fingers. “I think I may have missed you more than your mama this time.” Maeve could just barely hear his whisper. This trip had been the first time Cullen had been away from his child and Maeve knew how hard it had been the few times she had left. Alistair had even struggled with leaving his little family, though he was the one who had to leave the most often. The bond Cullen and Jena shared was sweet, different from the one she had with either of her other parents. In the back of her mind, Maeve hoped they would always share such a bond. Even one day, in the not so distant future when Jena came into her magic.
Maeve let out a rather pleased sigh as finally gave in and admitted that cooking had defeated her. She pushed Alistair’s hands away from her hips as she slipped her arms around his waist as she finally settled next to him. Draping his arm over Maeve’s shoulder, Alistair beckoned for Cullen to come closer. It was rare that Maeve had been without one of them, the last time being right before Jena had been born. It was hard enough before away from one of them, both of them more difficult than Maeve thought she could ever find words for. Looking up she glanced between them both and smiled. “The only time I feel like everything is going to be alright is when we are all together.” Maeve admitted as Cullen settled beside her with Jena nestled against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder as she cooed contentedly.
“I know,” Cullen whispered. “When this is all said and done, we will never have to be apart again.” It was a declaration, not a hope nor a promise. To Cullen it was a fact.
“No getting rid of us. We are stuck together… the three of us… and my peanut… huh peanut?” Alistair conquered as he reached out and rubbed Jena’s back. “We are a family, even if we may starve because none of us can cook.” The three of them shared a soft laugh as Maeve’s cheeks turned a pale pink.
As they settled into silence, Cullen looked down at Jena for a moment and let out an amused huff before turning his gaze back to Maeve and Alistair. “I can cook. I just do not enjoy it,” Cullen proclaimed flatly and the other two looked at him with a similar surprised expression.
“How am I just now learning this?” Alistair asked a little wounded that he did not know this about Cullen. He thought they had been decent enough friends in their youth and since entering their relationship with Maeve they had only grown closer. He was shocked that such a detail had not come up in their countless conversations.
Cullen shrugged, “My mother made sure we could all feed ourselves,” He murmured as he looked down at Jena, part of him rather sad that his daughter would never meet either of her grandmothers. His mother, because she had passed and Flemeth, well he prayed to the Maker each night that Flemeth would never so much as cast a shadow upon her. He sighed as he kissed the top of Jena’s head knowing what he had to do. “Alright, go see Mama so I can go try to make us something edible.”
Finally with Jena back in her arms Maeve smiled brightly, “See… Mama gets her way,” She whispered, kissing her daughter’s cheek as she watched Cullen chuckled. Alistair leaned in and smirked down at the infant. “I just had to destroy dinner, Papa will cook. Daddy cleaned up. Master plans my sweet girl.”
Leaning in Alistar rubbed Jena’s back watching her snuggle against Maeve’s chest, the corner of the pink blanket back in her mouth. “Oh Mama always gets her way. That’s how you are even here… yes it is…” Alistair said to Jena in a sing-song voice as he made a silly face once more.
“And demanding. So demanding,” Cullen teased walking towards the doors to head to the kitchens. “Don’t let her cook anything while I am gone, Alistair.”
“Oh she is never cooking again,” Alistair laughed as he leaned in and kissed Maeve’s cheek. Maeve may have failed at cooking but she knew that she had chosen the right men to fall in love with.