Chapter Text
Touch me I'm cold, unable to control
Touch me I'm golden and wild as the wind blows
It was the third day of bitter, angry negotiations with yet another noble family with claims to the throne. Cassandra had long since resigned herself to the fact that Ellana and Anthony were more adept at handling these sorts of things than she truly cared to be, and leaned back in her chair, letting her mind wander. The negotiations themselves were trivial, for show, mostly, and the lord would be placated with gold and land and he would leave them well enough alone. It was tedious work, none of the glamour she had been promised accompanied the royal life when she was a girl.
Her mind wandered to Kirkwall, where she knew Varric was preparing for his trip to Nevarra, his third in sixth months. The letters had never been quite enough, and when they began arriving from him after longer and longer periods of time, she wondered if, perhaps, she had been misplaced to give her heart so quickly to a man she hardly knew.
And then he arrived at the castle, no warning, and stayed for six weeks. It had been blissful, it had been excruciatingly painful to have him leave her again, but he promised to come back, and he did. He had kept every promise he'd made to her so far, and she had no reason to think he wouldn't continue for as many years as they could manage. The thought of the future always gave her pause, though. That had always been Anthony's forte -- he could picture disaster and ruin and stagnation for decades to come, but Cassandra found it difficult at times to see so far. She had plans and ideas, of course, but they were foggy, since she had become queen. Fate conspired to give her an uncertain future, but with Varric, she could see things more clearly.
She knew he loved her, and that he would. She knew she needed him, and would always. That much was certain. The rest of it was not.
As the meeting began to wrap up, Cassandra said a few words to the lord that seemed to please him, but she wasn't feeling as well as she had when the negotiations had started. She watched the guards escort the man from the room, and turned to Ellana. "I must retire."
"M'lady, are you unwell?"
"No, I--" She froze, feeling the meager breakfast she'd forced down begin to come back, and turned quickly from her advisor.
"Sister--"
"I'll escort her majesty to her quarters," Ellana said quickly. She took Cassandra's arm and whispered. "Straight up, don't let them see you like this."
Cassandra, probably as green as she felt, nodded, and let the elf lead her back to her quarters where, behind the safety of a locked and closed door, she heaved her sickness into a vase Ellana shoved into her hands. The leaves pushed against her nose, doing nothing for her uneasy stomach, and she was sick again and again until finally there was nothing left. Ellana took the vase and replaced it with a goblet of water. "Thank you."
"Lie down. It's been a very long day. I'll get a healer in to you look at you."
"No, I...don't think that will be necessary."
"Your majesty--"
"Ellana." Cassandra stood up straighter. "I am fine. Please make sure the details of the negotiation aren't lost to my brothers terrible scrawl. I'll rest and call for you within the hour."
Ellana was understandably unconvinced, but a queen's orders were final. She gave a quick bow and turned to leave.
Once the doors had shut behind her, Cassandra grabbed the vase again, and allowed herself the pleasurable misery of true, honest, sickness.
Ellana defied orders that night when Cassandra did not return for her, and long after she'd refused her dinner. She opened the door and came in, alone, reaching out for her queen. "M'lady."
"Ellana--"
"You are unwell. Please, let the healer see you."
"That isn't necessary--"
"Perhaps not to you. But your brother is worried."
Of course Anthony was worried, and of course he'd send his lover in to chastise her for doing it to him. But Ellana's tone was soft, the sweet lilting tone of her voice prying Cassandra from her discomfort, and she finally stretched out and took the girl's hand. "Yes," she said. "Alright."
Nodding, Ellana went to the door and gestured for the healer to enter. She kneeled and stood, lighting a few more lamps while Ellana trailed behind her. "Can't have our queen feeling sick now, can we?" The healer was a soft woman, a dwarf, and she smiled, reaching out to take Cassandra's hand. "No magic needed today, your majesty. Just a few herbs for a queasy stomach. Tell me though, when did you last bleed?"
Cassandra balked. "I'm sorry?"
"You're not a young woman, your majesty. Let's be honest with one another." The dwarf began mixing something together, crunching herbs and taking a few drops of some sort of extract. She mixed it into a cup and handed it over. "That should keep you well for a while. I'll make another in the morning. But you still didn't answer."
Cassandra took a sip of the brew, feeling almost instant relief. She moaned, realizing now she had a terrible headache, and pressed the heel of her palm to one of her eyes. "I...am not sure."
"You think on it for a moment. I'll get you some water." The healer went out of the room, and Cassandra waved to Ellana.
"M'lady--"
"I cannot remember. I...with everything that has happened, with all the negotiations, I--" She frowned. "Two months," she said. "It has been two months."
Ellana breathed. "Creators..."
"Here you are, your majesty." The dwarf brought back and cup of water and Cassandra drank half of it down. "Did you recall?"
"I...yes. It has been...two months."
"I see." The dwarf looked through her bag and brought something else out. "Chew these leaves. They'll help with your headache. I'll call for a more advanced healer in the morning. Keep her in bed. She isn't to move until we get to the bottom of this, understand?"
Cassandra's temper flared. "I am the queen--"
"Yes," the dwarf said. "And so we must have you at your best, mustn't we?" She kneeled again before taking her things. "I'll return in the morning with another healer. Sleep well, your majesty." The dwarf shut the door behind her. In the silence of her wake, Cassandra felt herself begin to tremble.
"How--"
"You know how, m'lady."
"That is not possible."
Ellana shrugged. "It would appear to be."
Cassandra reached for her. "Do not tell Anthony."
"I wouldn't, m'lady." Ellana squeezed the queen's hand and put it over her heart. "Your secret is safe here, with me."
In the morning, Cassandra awoke to the smell of brewing herbs. Ellana had made the package the dwarf healer had left them, and was pouring it into a goblet. She smiled when Cassandra sat up, handing over the concoction. "Thank you."
"Another healer is on their way. We'll know for sure."
"I already know," Cassandra snapped. How could she not? How could her own body become suddenly such a mystery to her. The fact that she was pregnant should have been obvious, but she had been so anxious, and she had missed times before that in her life had gone months without bleeding, and even longer still without a man to cause it. Now, her lover a dwarf, she was suddenly face with what she had assumed was an impossibility.
She did hate being wrong, sometimes.
The healer was a tall, severe looking woman. She glanced at Cassandra, worried for a moment, before she smiled, the tension on her face melting away. "Your majesty." She knelt and rose, setting a bag on the bedside table. "Are you feeling better?"
"Much."
"Mina's work is good," she said, glancing at the dwarf. "Let's see if we can't find out what troubles you."
Cassandra bit her lip. Too many people were here to know her secret. If it was indeed true, if she was with child...Maker, there would be work to do. Anthony would be furious. My sister, he'd say. Doing it all out of order. Cassandra leaned back against her pillows and let the healers do their work. A rune was placed on her belly, a drop of her blood taken and mixed in a vial. For an hour or more they worked, murmuring to one another about things Cassandra didn't understand, or couldn't hear. There was a ringing in her ears, and she was anxious to have answers.
She needed to tell Varric.
"Your majesty." The taller woman took the rune from Cassandra's belly. "You are with child," she said quietly. Her expression was pained, expecting the worst from her queen. But Cassandra sat up, and offered her a smile.
"I know more now than I did before. Thank you..."
"Gretchen," the woman said.
"Thank you, Gretchen. I will ask for you again soon, I am sure." Cassandra spared a glance down to her stomach, silent and smooth now. She remembered an aunt of hers from childhood, who had been pregnant with triplets. Gretchen nodded, taking her things and kneeling with Mina before leaving. Ellana closed the door after them. "It is true, then."
"They're quite sure of it," Ellana said.
"I'm sure they are. I am as well." She put a hand on the flat expanse of her belly. "What will we do now?" she murmured. She felt Ellana come sit next to her, reaching out to take her hand. "Anthony will be livid."
"He will get over it, in time." Ellana smiled. "Master Tethras will be here soon."
"He will."
"There will be much to discuss. Arrangements will have to be made."
Cassandra frowned. "Arrangements."
"For the baby. For your future. Whatever you wish to do, we will have to do it quickly. You're nearly two months pregnant, m'lady. It will pass you by too quickly."
Cassandra nodded. "Of course."
"But...you need time to think."
"I do."
"I'll leave you then, m'lady."
"Do not tell Anthony. Not yet."
Ellana smiled. She hesitated for a moment, then she leaned forward, pressing her lips to Cassandra's temple. The motion surprised her, but she was pleased. "Of course, your majesty. It remains, for now, our secret." She dipped her head and left Cassandra alone. The smell of herbs still lingered, as she rose to walk onto her balcony. It was midday. She should have been with Anthony, but she needed time alone. Time to think, time to wonder what she would do. She rubbed circles along her abdomen, contemplating the thing.
How would she tell Varric? They had not known one another a year yet, but still. Still. He was the man she loved, would always love. And he was now the father of their child. A future king or queen of Nevarra. The idea made her stomach turn, suddenly, and she rushed back to drink her strange tea, calming the nausea.
Andraste preserve me, she thought. Let him love me still.