Summersday

She was running out of time.
Brianna stood before the mirror in her bedchamber at the palace, wearing nothing but her smallclothes. Her hand cautiously stroked the small bulge that was forming at her waist as she looked at herself in the mirror. “Oh Maker!” she exclaimed.
It had been over three months since that night at the hunting lodge near Highever. They’d followed all of Morrigan’s instructions to the letter; a quiet undisturbed night, each one drinking the prescribed potion, the orichalcum. They’d gone at each other all night without stopping, finally collapsing on the floor in front of the fire, spent and exhausted. It had been the best sex she’d ever had.
The result now stared at her in the mirror; she was pregnant. The signs were undeniable. Brianna’s heart leaped with joy each time she looked at herself or felt the bulge that was beginning to make her clothes too tight. She had only one problem…she hadn’t told Alistair yet.
It wasn’t as if she were keeping it all a secret. Soon she’d have no choice and even her busy husband would notice the change in his normally slim and trim wife and lover. She just couldn’t get him to stand still long enough. It needed to be special. This was their only chance.
Brianna sighed and pulled out a corset from her bureau drawer. She hated corsets with a passion. They were too tight and made breathing impossible for an active woman but they were a necessity now. A corset was the only thing that kept the bulge from showing and allowed her to wear her armor. She laced it tightly and finished dressing.
Her assistant, Rob, was waiting for her in her study, going over a missive of some sort when she walked in. His eyes narrowed as she entered and he worriedly asked, “What is it?”
Brianna shook her head at her friend. In the years that she’d known him, he had taken it upon himself to look out for her welfare, just as he had in the prison where they had met, two years before. “Something’s come up.”
“Okay. What is it? I’m sure we can handle it,” he replied, rising to meet her.
“Well….you see…I’m pregnant,” she said, hesitating before just blurting it out.
Rob grabbed her up in a big bear hug. “That’s wonderful, Bree! When is it due? What did Alistair say?”
She pushed Rob away as her face fell. “I haven’t told him yet.”
“Haven’t told him? How long have you known?”
“About a month.”
“A month! Bree, you have to tell him. He has a right to know. Why wait so long?”
“I keep waiting for the time to be right and then when it is, he is off to some meeting, or touring or he is so exhausted that he falls asleep. We can’t get together long enough. I don’t know what to do, Rob!” She sat down on the settee and began to cry. “I hate crying and now I can’t stop doing it!”
Rob ran over to the door and shot the bolt to prevent them from being disturbed. He joined her on the settee and put his arm around her as she cried, murmuring nonsense to calm her down. When she had stopped he spoke, “Feeling better now?”
Brianna smiled a little, “Yes, thank you. I can’t stop doing that.”
“I remember. My wife was the same way. She cried for an hour once after she’d dropped and broken a plate. It is very common for pregnant women and it will pass.”
She looked at him thoughtfully; he rarely spoke of his past to her, especially of his wife. The poor woman had died giving birth to a son who had died a few days later for lack of a wet nurse to feed him. Rob had been beside himself with grief, turning to the drink and eventually, crime. It was how he had ended up in Ft Drakon. “So it’s normal.”
“Completely normal.” He cleared his throat and continued, “You must tell him, Bree. He needs to know, as king and your husband. You carry the next king or queen of Ferelden.”
“I wanted it to be special.”
“I know. That won’t be possible for much longer. Even your thick headed husband will notice soon, the way you two go at it.” Rob laughed.
Brianna smiled and laughed. “Yes, he’ll notice. He notices nothing outside his bedchamber but everything in his bed. How do I get him to stand still long enough to tell him?”
“We could plan a dinner. You could order all his favorites, have Eamon clear his schedule for an evening and tell him then. I’ll act as security and keep everyone away.”
“Tried that, twice. A messenger arrived from the Rivaini ambassador demanding an immediate audience and the other time there was that mess with Tevinter he’s trying to negotiate out of. I can’t win!” She put her head in her hands and began to cry softly again.
Rob pulled her close, “Then let’s use those meetings to our advantage. I have an idea that just might work.”
“What is it?”
“Well, first, we need to pay a visit to the market,” he said. “I’ll tell you the rest as we go.” He grabbed his sword and shield and picked up her bow. “Let’s go.” She smiled and took the bow, following him out the door.

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Alistair was stuck in meeting number three of five, bored to complete distraction as some minor noble went on and on about someone taking over something without authorization or some such nonsense. He had no idea what the man was blabbering about. All he could think about was Brianna.
She’d been so very moody lately and he knew there was something she wanted to tell him. It was completely out of character for her. He’d tried several times to talk to her but he was always summoned here or there for this and that. Being king was impossible for a marriage. “No wonder Cailan strayed,” he thought. “Anora was never around long enough and neither was he. He made do with whoever was.” The thought of straying made him angry; he’d left those ways behind him along with many other things and he had vowed never to think of them. Brianna was worth it and he’d keep her. He just wanted to know what was wrong.
Two nights before, she had planned an intimate dinner for the two of them. He’d cleared his schedule, even taking the precaution of telling his manservant, Martin, that he did not want to be disturbed unless the world was coming to an end, and even then the man was to think twice before bothering him. It hadn’t worked. Eamon found a way and off he went, leaving his crying wife behind and feeling like an utter cad. The next time the world could just end, he’d run Eamon through with his sword if that’s what it took to get time alone with his wife.
Until then, he turned his attention back to the lord in front of him, wishing the man had blue eyes and brown hair that fell in soft curls around his shoulders. It would help if he were a woman too.

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Rob finished tying the small package in front of him, smugly patting himself on the back for his ingenuity. It had been a stroke of genius and the perfect solution to his mistress and friend’s problem. He owed her so much for his good fortune and he had vowed to pay her back for it anyway he could. Saving her marriage was just the thing, he thought.
Brianna, for her part, was nervous as a cat in a room full of Mabari hounds. She paced her sitting room, wondering if the plan would work or not. When she was tired, she sat down on the settee and chewed her nails until she became restless and started pacing again. It was going to be a long wait for a short time.

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Meeting number five involved a formal introduction and reception of the newest ambassador from Antiva. The man was a frilly sort of guy with lace dripping off of every edge of his clothing. Alistair began to wonder if he was underdressed until he noticed that no one else was wearing lace. He shrugged in his dark brown coat embroidered with the seals of the House of Theirin, the Royal Seal of Ferelden and the Grey Warden Griffon. The three seals together had become his official coat of arms and he had had them embroidered or stamped on everything he owned, including himself and Brianna. Zevran had done the tattoos for them as a wedding present.
The Antivan bowed gracefully before him and presented his credentials. Alistair opened the ornate scroll and skimmed the words quickly; a courtesy that he felt must be performed. He nodded his approval and the man smiled, greeting him warmly. Alistair motioned for the man to take a seat at the conference table next to him and offered refreshments. They were soon deep in conversation about matters of state.
A subtle and quiet knock on the chamber door was heard not long after and a messenger entered and approached Eamon. “An urgent message for the king, my lord. He is to open it at once.” The man handed the package to Eamon who gave the man a puzzled look then approached his king as he sat at the table talking.
“My humble pardon, sire and your grace. An urgent message has arrived that needs your immediate attention,” Eamon said, placing the package in front of his king.
Alistair narrowed his eyes, confused, then looked to his guest, “Please forgive me, your grace.”
“Of course, your majesty,” answered the man politely. “Let me stretch my legs for a moment while you take care of this.” The man stood and bowed, then headed for the sideboard table where food and drink had been set out.
Alistair looked down at the package before him. Written in plain letters on top were the words, “Happy Summersday.” He smiled for a moment then his face fell when he realized he needed to get something for Brianna. It was tradition for lovers to give each other gifts on Summersday and he’d forgotten, again.
“I’m on it, sire,” whispered Eamon as he summoned a servant over. He whispered to the man and handed him a purse, sending him out quickly. Turning back to his king, “Ronald will take care of it, sire.” Alistair smiled and began to unwrap the package.
Inside the box was not what he expected to find. On the top was a perfectly carved miniature golem doll. Eamon laughed as he looked at it. “That looks like the one I brought you all those years ago.”
“It does. Who would send me this?” Alistair asked. Looking down into the box he pulled out a hard circle carved from ivory. “What is this?”
Eamon laughed, “It’s a teething ring. Perhaps someone thinks you are cutting teeth.”
“Very strange.” Alistair looked into the box again and pulled out a roll of cloth. He unrolled it, his brow knitting as he did. “Uhhh…cloth?”
The Arl examined the cloth carefully, opening it up and laying it out on the table. The shape gave its use away. “Swaddling cloth. Isolde used to wrap Connor in it when he was a baby. Why would someone be sending you this?”
Alistair looked into the box again and pulled out a small scroll, tied with both a pink and blue ribbon. He opened it and all was revealed.

Look to the door and your questions will be answered.
B

The king of Ferelden looked up and towards the door to see his wife standing there, her hand on her stomach. “Maker take me for a blind man!” he cursed, jumping up and running to the door. He stopped short of embracing Brianna, instead closing his eyes and concentrating for a few moments, reaching out with his Warden senses. When he opened his eyes, they were lit with joy from within. “Really?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied.
“When?”
“About six months.” Brianna started to speak, “Alistair, I’m sorry. I tried….” Her words were stopped by her husband’s mouth as it descended on hers in a kiss.
“I’m a fool, love. Can you forgive me?” he asked as held her tightly.
“I was so afraid I’d never get to tell you, so yes, you are forgiven,” she said, smiling. “Happy Summersday!”
Alistair laughed and kissed her again. Turning the assembled company he announced. “Ladies and gentleman, I’m going to be a father!” The guests erupted in applause and cheers. “A round of drinks, please, Eamon. Everyone celebrate!” Brianna smiled happily at his joy.
The Antivan ambassador smiled at the couple and bowed low before them both. “My extreme felicitations to you both. May the Maker and his bride shine upon your good fortune.” He kissed Brianna’s hand and shook Alistair’s. “If I may be so bold, your majesty, you should be spending this day with your wife, not a stuffy, frilly ambassador. Go now. I will return on the morrow and we will continue our talk. I’ll keep them busy while you escape. My joy to you both!” He bowed again and began to shoo the company to the side table and the drinks that had arrived.
Alistair took Brianna’s hand and snuck out the door, and the two of them ran to their bedchamber and locked themselves in. As they leaned against the door to catch their breath, they heard the sound of the chantry bells ringing to announce their news and they laughed as they listened. Alistair turned to Brianna, his voice soft as he spoke:

“Before I loved you, love, nothing was my own:
I wavered through the streets, among objects:
nothing mattered or had a name:
the world was made of air, which waited.

I knew rooms full of ashes,
tunnels where the moon lived,
rough warehouses that growled 'get lost',
questions that insisted in the sand.

Everything was empty, dead, mute,
fallen abandoned, and decayed:
inconceivably alien, it all

belonged to someone else - to no one:
till your beauty and your poverty
filled the autumn plentiful with gifts.” *

“I love you, wife,” he said, looking down at her.
“I love you, husband,” she said. “And your child.”

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* “Sonnet XXV.” Pablo Neruda. http://www.quotesandpoem.com/poems/SelectedPoemByTopic/Neruda/Love-&-Romance/Son... February, 2012.